Sawmill

One evening in our hunting-lodge, far out in the wilderness, an old

friend of mine told me that somewhere down the stream there once had

been a sawmill. 200 years ago someone hewed his timber here during

the winter and sawed his planks during the summer. Then he had to

wait for the next winter to sledge his lumber home by horse.

Every year for 34 years I have spent one week here hunting and newer

saw anything like a sawmill. The next day I went down the stream and

within a couple of stone's throws I found it. I spent a while there

humbly thinking of my ancestors efforts.