VOL. VI OCTOBER, 1917 No. 9 EDITORIAL CHAT 'F we had put a title on this editorial it would have killed its chances of being read because it's on the ancient and venerable subject of co-operation, so much talked about-and largely taken out in talk. That's why it still holds the world's long distance title for inspired effusions. From a purely selfish standpoint, a man's best chance of progress and success lies in an intelligent dovetailing of his own efforts with those of his colleagues. If this were only understood there would be no dearth of co-operation; the element of selfishness is fairly common. Let those who are relying entirely in their individual efforts ask themselves what they would think of an army sent into battle without any training. Their own chances are no better on the battlefield of business. The army is drilled and trained until every order is executed with the utmost precision of concerted action. Then it is fit for effective service. Could the armies of the Kaiser (strafe him) have held out for three years against the rest of the world if the individuals composing them had not been schooled for years in the most intense kind of co-operation? Co-operation isn't relaxing individual effort and drifting along on the momentum of the organization. An army would not be particularly formidable whose men each relied on the rest to do the work. It's individual effort that keeps it from being annihilated and also that wins promotion and honor, but it is individual effort intelligently striving for the objects of the whole. Consider your own organization in the light of an army. Don't deprive it of any part of the full measure of your support by failure to work in complete harmony with the other units of the organization. Supremacy in the field of commerce demands unity of purpose and action just as on the field of battle. And don't forget that the richest rewards are shared by the most successful-in both cases. Quality Pioneer Lumbering and its By an old timer, W. E. DUDLEY The Lumberman, unlike the average manufacturer, while living and working close to nature, left development of improved devices to the manufacturer of the various lumber equipments and they in turn submitted the equipment to him for his approval. When approved by him it was adopted for the lumberman's general use. One of the pioneers in these developments, working and bringing forth most essential logging and sawmill equipment was Henry Disston, the developer of the cross-cut saw, saw and band saw. circular To relate in detail the whole story would take volumes to print and days to read, so we will just cite a few of the essential means of the progress of the lumberman in the last fifty years. The most important man in the history of the lumber business is The Timber Cruiser, shown in the illustrations. A hardy, courageous and fearless man, who knew no limit to his endurance and integrity. His word was his bond, and was relied on with as much faith as our Government bond is to-day. He is a character that has become almost extinct, and it is a rare treat when you have an opportunity nowadays to shake the hand of one of the old veterans. His duties were to roll up his blankets and cooking utensils, attach his packing straps and shoulder a one-hundred pound pack of provisions and in company with his compass-man, he would either walk or canoe his way up the various streams into the virgin forest to be gone days and months, looking over and estimating the timber and the chances for logging the following winter. On his return to his employer, he would render his report of the amount, quality and chances to log, upon which depended whether the lumberman would send his logger with a crew that fall into that particular section. If he stated that it was a good lay-out and everything favorable, then the lumberman would figure on that particular tract for his year's supply and if not, he would set out to look up one that was favorable. The success of the lumberman those days depended wholly upon the cruiser's word and judgment. Then came the outfitting for the winter's work. The lumberman would call in his foreman. He, as a rule, was "some man," for he had to be to gain the title of a woods foreman. He had to possess excellent stature and physique and to have absolute control over his men to keep harmony and peace among a crew of hardy frontiersmen, in the woods, miles from civilization from September to the following June, was no easy task. It was a rare occasion, that a man ever came down or quit in the meantime. Speaking of the great pine forests of Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota fifty years ago, the lumber-jack those days made a specialty of woods work and took pride in striving to be the best man in his particular line. We reproduce here an exact likeness, recently taken in Lincoln County, Wisconsin, of the lumber jack of fifty years ago, in the act of felling timber with an improved, up-to-date Disston high-grade cross-cut saw. Speaking of the foreman's orders, when called in, the lumberman would say: "Well, Bob, we are going to log on the Tomahawk this winter, and you will bank your logs at the Half Breed Rapids. I think that would be the proper place to build your camps, but you can decide when you get there. You need about fifty men and eight yoke of cattle. Now get things together in a hurry and get up there as soon as possible and see if you can make a record for yourself this winter." These being his final orders, he starts to round up his men and teams. After getting them all together, picking out the best of them to pole the canoes loaded down with their winter supplies, consisting of salt-pork, beans, prunes, flour, molasses, and Peerless tobacco, they start out, some of the men driving the cattle along the old toat-road which followed the river banks and the canoe-men working their way slowly up the stream, stopping at the various portages where all hands turned in and packed their supplies and canoes around the rapids. It was not uncommon for a lumber-jack to carry a 200-pound barrel of pork on his shoulders over the portage. Eventually arriving at their destination they would T HIS piece of flat spring steel was encountered by a Disston Saw in the box factory of George E. Keith Company, Campello, Mass. The saw was a 19-gauge band resaw. The only damage done was to take the corners off the teeth. The saw was reground and refitted, and when again put in service showed no worse for the experience. This is considered the more remarkable as the test was much more severe than if the metal had been solid. The vibrating and chattering of both sides of the spring would have destroyed any but a saw of highest quality. From "American Forest Trees" (Quercus Virginiana) Copyright Hardwood Record T HE history of this live oak is a reversal of the history of almost every other important forest tree of the United States. It seems to be the lone exception to the rule that the use of a certain wood never decreases until forced by scarcity. There was a time when hardly any wood in this country was in greater demand than this, and now there is hardly one in less demand. The decline has not been the result of scarcity, for there has never been a time when plenty was not in sight. A few years ago several fine live oaks were cut in making street changes in New Orleans, and a number of sound logs, over three feet in diameter, were rolled aside, and it was publicly announced that anyone who would take them away could have them. No one took them. It is doubtful if that could happen with timber of any other kind. The situation was different 120 years ago. At that time live oak was in such demand that the government, soon after the adoption of the constitution, became anxious lest enough could not be had to meet the requirements of the navy department. The keels of the first war vessels built by this government were about to be laid, and the most necessary material for their construction was live oak. The vessels were to be of wood, of course; and their strength and reliability depended upon the size and quality of the heavy braces used in the lower framework. These braces were called knees and were crooked at right angles. They were hewed in solid pieces, and the largest weighed nearly 1,000 pounds. No other wood was as suitable as live oak, which is very strong, and it grows knees in the form desired. The crooks produced by the junction of large roots with the base of the trunk were selected, and shipbuilders with saws, broadaxes, and adzes cut them in the desired sizes and shapes. When the building of the first ships of the navy was undertaken, the alarm was sounded that live oak was scarce, and that speculators were buying it to sell to European governments. Congress appropriated large sums of money and bought islands and other lands along the south Atlantic and Gulf coast, where the best live oak grew. In Louisiana alone the government bought 37,000 live oak trees, as well as large numbers in Florida and Georgia. In some instances the land on which the trees stood was bought. Ship carpenters were sent from New England to hew knees for the first vessels of the navy. The story of the troubles and triumphs of the contractors and knee cutters is an interesting one, but too long for even a summary here; suffice it that in due time the vessels were finished. The history of those vessels is almost a history (Continued on page 141) |