Chapter II - My Night in the Outhouse with the Bear
We slept in a log cabin with about 10 beds lined up in a row. If a newcomer arrived with bed bugs or fleas, we all got our share of them and ended up in the morning scratching. The only solution was to pile up all the clothing and blankets and douse them with DDT. This got rid of them but these bites would itch for several days.
The toilet was an outhouse out back. It had 10 holes in a line and with no partitions. It was a building with a screen door and set above a big hole. The idea was that when the hole filled up you dug another hole and several men would pick up the cabin and move it to the new location. I was assigned at one point the job of digging the new hole but I will tell you about that in another chapter.
The morning visit before going off to work was a very social event with a full line up of men sitting there with most of them smoking. It was sort of a solemn ritual as they sat there in silence with rarely a word exchanged. The smoking at least reduced the smell from this open pit. Mosquitoes seemed to like the pit below so this added to the discomfort from the flea and bed bug bites. I being a city boy hated joining this line up so attempted several alternative methods to enjoy some privacy. The mill whistle went off at 7 AM and the men got out of bed at 6AM for breakfast and then used the outhouse for their morning crap before going off to work. I waited until the last minute, about 6:50 AM when most had left for work, did my business quickly and ran to the sawmill with about a minute to spare.
Another solution was to take an oil lantern and head out back when most men went to bed. One night as I sat there alone I heard a scratch at the screen door. I looked up and saw a big black bear - at least the it looked very big to me at the time - staring in at me,. The bear seemed very interested in checking me out and made a small noise, sort of a snorting sound or maybe it was heavy breathing. At first I sat there quietly not daring to move and hoping it would stop scratching at the door and go away. It was a pretty flimsy door so I didn’t want to excite the bear because it could have easily ripped it open with one slap of a paw. I didn’t dare shout but I finally worked up the courage to say very quietly, “shush!” This caused the bear to sit down and tilt its head onto one side as though it was trying to figure out what to do next. The bear just stayed at the door and it looked like it was going to be a very long night in that smelly outhouse. I just sat and the bear just sat as we stared at each other. I thought that if I looked away and stopped staring at the bear eye ball to eye ball it would get bored, but when I looked back it was still there staring. It seemed like forever, but finally it turned around and left.
I wasn’t sure whether it was outside and still waiting somewhere, but I finally cautiously opened the screen door and looked around in the dark. Hearing no sound I worked up my courage and leapt off the porch with oil lamp in hand and in record time was back in the bunk house. I did not attempt again to go to the outhouse at night and finally became accustomed to sitting with my work mates.
Thinking back on it 62 years later maybe the bear was just trying to be friendly, but I will never know.
We slept in a log cabin with about 10 beds lined up in a row. If a newcomer arrived with bed bugs or fleas, we all got our share of them and ended up in the morning scratching. The only solution was to pile up all the clothing and blankets and douse them with DDT. This got rid of them but these bites would itch for several days.
The toilet was an outhouse out back. It had 10 holes in a line and with no partitions. It was a building with a screen door and set above a big hole. The idea was that when the hole filled up you dug another hole and several men would pick up the cabin and move it to the new location. I was assigned at one point the job of digging the new hole but I will tell you about that in another chapter.
The morning visit before going off to work was a very social event with a full line up of men sitting there with most of them smoking. It was sort of a solemn ritual as they sat there in silence with rarely a word exchanged. The smoking at least reduced the smell from this open pit. Mosquitoes seemed to like the pit below so this added to the discomfort from the flea and bed bug bites. I being a city boy hated joining this line up so attempted several alternative methods to enjoy some privacy. The mill whistle went off at 7 AM and the men got out of bed at 6AM for breakfast and then used the outhouse for their morning crap before going off to work. I waited until the last minute, about 6:50 AM when most had left for work, did my business quickly and ran to the sawmill with about a minute to spare.
Another solution was to take an oil lantern and head out back when most men went to bed. One night as I sat there alone I heard a scratch at the screen door. I looked up and saw a big black bear - at least the it looked very big to me at the time - staring in at me,. The bear seemed very interested in checking me out and made a small noise, sort of a snorting sound or maybe it was heavy breathing. At first I sat there quietly not daring to move and hoping it would stop scratching at the door and go away. It was a pretty flimsy door so I didn’t want to excite the bear because it could have easily ripped it open with one slap of a paw. I didn’t dare shout but I finally worked up the courage to say very quietly, “shush!” This caused the bear to sit down and tilt its head onto one side as though it was trying to figure out what to do next. The bear just stayed at the door and it looked like it was going to be a very long night in that smelly outhouse. I just sat and the bear just sat as we stared at each other. I thought that if I looked away and stopped staring at the bear eye ball to eye ball it would get bored, but when I looked back it was still there staring. It seemed like forever, but finally it turned around and left.
I wasn’t sure whether it was outside and still waiting somewhere, but I finally cautiously opened the screen door and looked around in the dark. Hearing no sound I worked up my courage and leapt off the porch with oil lamp in hand and in record time was back in the bunk house. I did not attempt again to go to the outhouse at night and finally became accustomed to sitting with my work mates.
Thinking back on it 62 years later maybe the bear was just trying to be friendly, but I will never know.
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