A Short Story by Gary Rehmeier

Illustrated by Lisa Bjarnson 

Narrated by Curt Hawkins

THE team of Percheron horses stamped their feet and snorted, vapor puffing out of their nostrils in frosty trails against the crisp, cold winter air. The harness jingled as the horses pranced, the hames, metal buckles and rings, and heel chains creating a symphony of sound against the backdrop of the deep forest. The team was impatiently waiting for the teamster to give them the signal to pull their heavy load.

It was the winter of 1977, and arctic weather lay across the valley like a cloak, the temperature plunging to minus 30 degrees Celsius. Deep in the heart of the vast British Columbia forest, rugged lumberjacks harvested timber destined for the local sawmill. These mighty men pitted their strength against Mother Nature, carving out logging trails and small landings to process the wood for shipping.

Big Jake stood quietly in the morning sun next to his sleigh as he listened to the sounds of his fellow loggers. Just off the landing not too far away, Tim was pulling logs with his skid horse. “Get over, Flame! Gee now, and giddup!” cried the teamster as his red gelding leaned into the harness to pull the hefty log. Jake could hear the clinking of the heel chains and singletree as Flame trotted down the narrow trail towards the loading ramp towing the birch log behind him.

Over to his right, Big Jake could hear the roar of a chain saw as Ted prepared to fall another tree. There was no one else in that area, Jake knew, because all the loggers were aware of the danger zones, and where trees were falling, everyone stayed away! Suddenly, Jake could hear the snap of the tree as it broke away from the stump and then, with a mighty crash, struck the forest floor! Branches and debris flew into the air and then all was quiet.

In the distance he could hear Casey shouting commands to his horse. “Whoa there, Princess! Now back up, back up, easy now. Haw, get over haw. Back, back, Whoa!” Jake knew Casey was hooking up another log to the skid chain and soon Princess would be huffing as she pulled the huge birch towards the sleigh where he was standing. They would soon have a full load, and then Big Jake would be on his way to the sawmill.

To load the sleigh, the logging team built a log ramp into the side of a small hill. They supported three parallel logs on top of another structure also make out of timbers. At the end of these logs were flip-down poles that allowed the cut up trees to be rolled onto the sleigh. Everything was done by horsepower or manpower; none of the lumberjacks had an ounce of fat on them due to the strenuous work. They were as tough as nails, these men of the north, and they worked from dawn to dusk to complete their task.

Tim and his horse Flame arrived at the ramp. “Howdy, Tim!” called Jake. “I see you’ve got one big log there. Let me give you a hand.”

Tim grinned. “Hey, Jake! Yeah, grab that canthook and peavey and lets git-er-done!”

Together they rolled the massive log onto the ramp, down to the flip poles, and onto the sleigh. By the time they finished, both were breathing heavily, the vapor from their breaths forming into ice crystals that hung suspended in the cold air. While they were catching their breath, Casey pulled up to the ramp. Together, the three of them wrestled another big log onto the sleigh.