About five hundred camps mar this beautiful region with their rude shacks and temporary shelters, some of them being scores of miles from the permanent settlements. During the winter months twenty thousand men labor in the scattered camps of this vast territory, removing the growth of ages that the farms and cities may have comfort and protection. The primeval forest has been invaded, and on the zero air of the north the ring of the ax, the tearing of saws and the strange oaths of the teamsters mingle with the crash of falling trees. The workers of the forest are called lumberjacks. In all the country there is scarcely a more interesting group of men--interesting because so wayward and prodigal in life and habit, while their forest home appeals to every leaf-loving soul. They are the nomads of the west--farm hands and railroad constructionists in summer, woodsmen in winter--with no settled abode, no place they call home. A few years ago Michigan claimed them; later their habitat was in the forests of Wisconsin; now the woods of Minnesota is their rendezvous. [Illustration: LUMBER CAMP IN THE LONG, LACE-LIKE NORWAYS] The typical lumberjack is a man of large heart and little will. He sins with willing freedom, because he has almost lost the power to check his evil desires, and it is so easy to yield to the vultures who make sin convenient and righteousness hard. The saloon and brothel are ever alluringly near, while the church and bethel are slow to approach. The harpies of sin wait at every turn to prey upon the woodsman--though they damn his soul it matters not, if they obtain the cash.