"Not a word, preacher, not a word. I ain't got a word to say against it. Preacher, don't you ever think I want to say anything against it. I just wanted to know if you was the man, that's all. You're all right, preacher, you're all right. 'Twas a blank good throw. I ain't got nothin' against it." Turning to the other lumberjacks, Mr. Higgins said: "Boys, did you ever know Higgins to do you a bad turn? Can you show me where I have not tried to help you? Yet for the sport of the thing you try to get this poor, drunken fellow to cause trouble, just for a moment's laughter. Is that a proper return?" The men made no answer, but shame rested on many a winter beaten cheek. That night in a nearby camp almost every man of them came to the preacher after the meeting. "Forget it, Pilot," said the spokesman, "We're ashamed of the way we came at you, but you know it wasn't us, it was Whiskey. That's your only enemy in these woods. Say you'll forget it and shake." "Thanks, boys, I have already. Give me your hands." The pastorate has its trials, as every minister knows, but for unbounded variety of the unexpected the camp missionary has the city man far in the rear. Church quarrels have bounds, but where are the limits of the quarrels of the lumberjacks? From words they readily pass to blows and in a moment's flight blood-shed results. In February of this year the writer received a letter from Mr. Higgins, describing a railway trip. A portion is appended: "I recently left Deer River on the Itasca Logging Railroad for Fourtown, and experienced the worst trip it was ever my lot to take. The car was crowded with lumberjacks, few of whom were sober. The woodsmen had over twenty quarts of Deer River squirrel whiskey, and in a short time things were moving at a terrific rate. You may call it a tempest in a teapot, but never have I seen anything like the affair; no human tongue could describe the sight. The Irish, the Swedes and the Glengarry Scotch were filled with whiskey, and every man was out for blood, and blood they had,--an abundance of it. An old time lumberjack said that in all his days in the woods he has yet to see the equal of the scene. "I took a hand in trying to keep the boys in order and although I succeeded in preventing three fights, the conditions were soon beyond me, for it was impossible, even for a traveling missionary, to be in more than one part of the car at the same time and the performance was more than a three ring affair.