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One logger lately from Sweden complained to another "By yimminy ! I yust got so I can say yam and now they change it to yelly."

Occasionally there was trouble in a camp - somethimes over card-playing, sometimes over the cook. Before coming to the Humptulips, Gust Murhard was running a camp near Porter on the Chehalis River. He employed a Chinese cook. The crew didn't like it. At breakfast one morning a logger tasted his coffee, then threw it in the cook's face. The Chinaman, rightly insulted, went for his gun. At that, Gust stepped between them. He knew the logger was altogether at fault, but he also realized that to fire him and keep the Chinaman would only cause further trouble in camp. Much as he disliked to do it, he ordered both men to leave.

During the succeeding years, the ox-team was replaced by the horse and capstan, then by the Delbeer steam engine and line horse, then by larger steam Roaders and yarders, the bulldozer, and finally by Diesel engines and highline cables hitched to spar trees. This latter method eliminated much of the destruction of young growth incident to logging. Even the hand-operated, two-man crosscut saw is giving way to the automatic chain-saw. Instead of floating rafts down the rivers, heavy loads of logs are now trucked to the mill over hard-surfaced roads.

In as much as the Quinault River empties directly into the Pacific Ocean, and log rafts cannot be safely towed on the open sea. The ancient forests of that area awaited the overland invasion of loggers from the south. In 1958, as this is written, most of the timber coming into Hoquiam is from the Quinault area, and is hauled from forty to sixty miles by powerful auto-trucks.

Notwithstanding all the modern advances, logging is not for weaklinigs. It is still a dangerous occupation, requiring men of brawn and endurance and frequently takes its toll in lives.