But a laugh does not deter a man like Frank Higgins. The love of the forest and river was in his blood, and the strong body and determined will welcomed the difficulties of the river. Even the discomforts of a sudden bath did not cool his zeal. He believed that if these men were to be his hearers he must know how to appreciate their labors, and that appreciation could only be acquired by passing through the intricacies of the calling. So skill came with practice, and a knowledge of the drive after many sudden descents into the flowing waters. This was a part of the equipment for ministering--a strange preparation--but men whose labors demand strength of limb and skill of body are more likely to listen to him who can prove his physical ability. In the estimation of some, manual labor may not preserve the dignity of the cloth, but it adds to the dignity of the man. The lumberjacks and rivermen have no admiration for him who is fearful of hardship, or succumbs before the strenuous labor which they themselves must daily perform. The pineries is no place for weaklings, nor the drive for the fearful. Among these men physical prowess wins where mental powers fail to get a hearing, but the combination of both, backed by a strong desire to serve, is a combination sure of success. "When you are in Barnum I want you men to remember me," said the preacher to the drivers. "My home and church are open to you. You are just as welcome as the people of the village." Shortly after the above invitation the boys came to town. It was Sunday, and the hour of the morning service. Three big rivermen entered the church and took seats in the rear of the building. They were dressed as the necessities of their vocation require, flannel shirts resplendent in fighting colors, broad belts, and heavy spike-soled boots. It was no small sensation their presence created. Barnum was a lumber town, but although accustomed to the lumberjacks and drivers, it had never seen them in church. The saloons were their known retreats. Before beginning the service Mr. Higgins went down to the drivers and bade them welcome. "We thought we'd drop in and see if you'd make us as welcome in the gospel shop as we made you in the bunkhouse," said the spokesman. "I guess he has, Bill," he said, turning to his friend. After that they came to the little church whenever they sundayed in town. With the trio came others, for they knew they would be hospitably received. This proved to the minister that the man who wants a larger parish has only to remove the fence that encloses his present one. As often as his pressing duties would allow it, the missionary followed his new found flock. The distance was great to Kettle River, yet he walked to the camp that service might be held on the bank of the stream. From the memories of the men who heard and of him who preached, the pleasure of those sunset gatherings will never be effaced. Kettle River drive was more fruitful than preacher or logger dreamed.