Pigeon River Country: A Michigan Forest

12. Chore Boy

12 Chore Boy In September 1969, James G. Smith Jr. left a sign along the Pigeon that said, “I worked in Cornwell’s mill on this spot in 1908 . . . age 16, now 77.” District game supervisor Ford Kellum found the sign and communicated with Mr. Smith. In 1975, Sam Titus and Ned Caveney went to Alma, Michigan, to interview Mr. Smith in his home. James Smith Sr. was the engineer at the Cornwell mill on the Pigeon around what is now Section Four Lake north of the headquarters. His son worked at the C. S. Bliss lumber camp on the Tittabawassee River in 1907, when he was 15, then joined his father on the Pigeon as chore boy from October 1908 until July 4, 1909. Young Jim built the ‹res in the men’s camp, cook camp, and of‹ce and called the cooks. That work was done before the foreman and the men got up each day. He got $20 per month. James Smith Jr.: There isn’t really much to talk about—only get up real early in the morning and go to bed late at night. I traded horses up there one time, and I was pretty smart. I was going to beat this fella at a horse deal. I never saw the man before. I just came out of the men’s camp, he stopped and talked, a perfect stranger. He said, “Is there anybody around here who wants to trade horses?” I said, “What kind of a horse do you want?” He said, “Any kind.” I said, “Well, I’ll trade with ya.” So, I said, “What kind of a horse do you want, a workhorse or a driving horse or what?” He said, “Just a horse.” Well, I said, “All right, come down and get it.” I said, “I’ll trade ya. I haven’t seen your horse and you haven’t seen mine. So call it a deal.” So, we had a sawhorse laying up against the barn with one leg broke off of it. So I was real smart, and I went down. I said, “Well, here’s your horse.” “Boy,” he said, “it’s just right.” He picked it up and put it on his shoulder and started out across the dam. I said, “Now just what is 154 this?” I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. I hollered at him. I said, “Where is my horse?” He said, “The other side of the mill, right around on the road.” So he went on across the dam. I went around back of the mill, followed the road. There lay a dead horse. Well, it was my horse, so I had to bury him. Afterward I found the sawhorse. He just carried it across the dam nicely and threw it over in the swamp. I buried the horse with the shovel. I did wiggle him around and get him in a hollow spot and I threw the dirt over top. Sam Titus or Ned Caveney: It’s beautiful country up there. A: Yes, it is. I would love to have a little house right up in there where the mill used to be, right on the stream, and I wouldn’t care if I never saw another person. [Pointing to his hand-drawn map:] And this is your pond where they used to hold the water. Q: Floated the logs. A: And the sluiceway. The water would go right through. Q: What was the sluiceway made of? A: Just wood, very crude. Then this jack ladder was a conveyor; went from here up into the mill. The saw was in the upper part of the mill, the upstairs. Old Tom Manning—old Tom, he was 66 and I am 83 now, yet he was old Tom (laughter). Tom’s job was to sort the logs and send them up the jack ladder. One day Charlie Cornwell, that was the big shot, was in there. Tom made a mistake where a log got ahead of him. He sent the wrong kind of log up. All they had to do is roll the log off and wait till they were cutting that kind of timber. But Charlie wasn’t satis‹ed, he had to go down there and blow a little. So he went down and jumped Tom about it and said, “What’s the matter with ya, Tom? Don’t you know anything?” Tom said, “I’m not supposed to...