Great Britain -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction; Short stories, English; West Riding of Yorkshire (England) -- Fiction
Every year, as early as the middle of April or as late as the middle of
May, they set forth in a band, and the whole village assembled to see
them off. The two great waggons, packed the day before, and the
pole-wain on which the long ladders trailed almost to the ground, would
be had out of the sheds at the town end; and the talk and laughter of
the villagers would mingle with the singing of the larks and the
bleating of the lambs on the bare hillsides and all the noises of the
morning. The horses would be brought out and backed into the shafts with
a great clatter and stamping, and the brass discs and buckles of the
harness would flash and jangle in the sun. The manes of the horses had
been decked with red, blue, and white ribbons, and straw had been
trimmed and plaited into their tails; and while lads frolicked and ran
in and out, the smallest of the children would be held up to tie
rosettes and favours to the whips. The foremost waggon was always hung
round with crocks and kettles like a tinker’s caravan, and to this the
three or four women who were to accompany the men would mount. Good-byes
would be said, handkerchiefs waved, and a man would take the head of the
leading horse. The crocks and kettles would set up a clangour; the
second waggon, that carried the saws and axes and boiling-irons, would
fall in; and the lads would run behind the long wain, swinging on the
ladders that rocked up and down like a rantipole. So they would pass
between the dewy hawthorn hedges, and at the turn of the road, where the
wheels were clogged to drop down the hill, the village would lose sight
of them for maybe three weeks or a month.
Sometimes they pilled (or “barked,” as some call it) for others, being
then paid by the day or contract, sometimes they bought the bark
themselves to sell again to the tanners; and when the timber was not to
come down at once they left the stripped trees, naked and white and
ghostly, to stand for another year that the sap might retire and the
tree season as it stood. While the men worked in the woods, the women
cooked and mended, plied the pilling-irons on the smaller branches,
stacked the bark into light sheds, and perchance plaited osiers or wove
straw basses for beehives meanwhile. Sometimes they slept in inns and
farm-kitchens, and sometimes barns and sheds were prepared against their
coming.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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