Frontier and pioneer life -- Ontario -- Fiction; Ontario -- History -- Fiction
A year passed and the folk of St. Marys had not yet accustomed
themselves to drawing water from a tap and turning on the light with a
switch ere Clark began a frontal attack on the resources of the country
to the north. It was typical of his methods that he invariably used
new agencies by which to approach affairs which, in the main, differed
from those already existing. Thus he called on many and widely
separated individuals, who, answering his imperious summons, fell
straightway under the spell of his remarkable personality, and found
themselves shortly in positions of increasing responsibility. They
became the heads of various activities, but, in a way, the secondary
heads, for Clark retained all kingship for himself. So it came that as
months passed he was surrounded by a constantly increasing band of
active and loyal retainers.
Such was John Baudette, for whom Clark had sent to talk pulp wood, but,
it is recorded, that Baudette's manner and bearing changed not at all
when Clark stared at him across the big flat topped desk and remarked
evenly that he wanted pulp wood and was assured that there was an ample
supply within fifty miles.
Baudette's hard blue eyes met the stare placidly. "Yes, there is pulp
wood north of here."
"I know it, because I've had some," said Clark, "but I want fifty
thousand cords next May and seventy-five thousand the year after."
Baudette felt in a way more at home, but he had never contemplated
seventy-five thousand cords of wood. "Am I to go and take it?"
Clark laughed, then settled back with the shadow of a smile on his
lips, and bent on the woodsman that swift inspection which discomforted
so many. It embarrassed Baudette not at all. He was rather small and
of slight build, but he was constructed in the manner of a bundle of
steel wire that enfolds a heart of inflexible determination. On casual
inspection he did not appear to be a strong man, but his body was a
mass of tireless sinew. His eyes were of that cold, hard blue which is
the color of fortitude, his face clean shaven and rather thin; his jaw
slightly underhung, his lips narrow and tightly compressed. In
demeanor he was quiet and almost shy, but it was the quietness of one
who has spent his days in the open, and the shyness of a life which has
dealt with simple things in a simple but efficient way. The longer
Clark looked at him the more he liked this new discovery. Presently he
began to talk.
"I want a man to take charge of my forest department, and one who has
got his experience at the expense of some one else. We need pulp wood
in larger quantities than have been required in this country before.
Next year we begin to grind wood that you will cut this winter."
The little man neither moved nor took his eyes from Clark's face, and
the latter, with the faintest twitch of his lip, went on.
"I'm satisfied that this wood exists in ample quantities and the rest
is up to you. You can have any reasonable salary you ask for."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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