The Bavarian Gate

"You ever do this before?" Lars asked. His accent was slight; he'd come over as a child, and gone to school in Nehtaka.

"Not in trees like these," Macurdy answered.

"Let's see how you do."

The cut had been started, and the saw left in the kerf. Macurdy took hold of the handle, and after a few strokes got the feel of it. "Okay," Lars said. "Remember, I don't stand for nobody loafing, even if this is piece work. If you don't get the wood out, you go down the road."

He left then. As Macurdy drew and pushed the long saw, he decided he was going to like this job.

In Severtson's camp, buckers slept in their own shack, and fallers in another. The choker setters and whistle punks shared still another, as did the cooks, the riggers and ski

For two weeks Macurdy bucked fir-two weeks in which he also learned to file a saw like a pro. The camp had filers, but the general attitude was that any real honest-to-god sawyer filed his own. Macurdy's dad had taught him as a boy, but he'd never been more than adequate before. Now he learned the fine points of swaging, and how to get the set so even, the cut surface was as smooth as if planed.

Then Roy's felling partner was afflicted with terminal thirst, and left for Portland to drink up his money. Roy suggested Macurdy for a replacement, and Lars agreed to give him a trial. Skill with the axe was the most demanding part of the faller's job, and axemanship Macurdy's best woods skill; they became not only a successful team, but by Macurdy's second week felling with Roy, they were in contention for the highest producing team, and the big monthly prize of twenty dollars each.

The previously dominant team included a man everyone stayed clear of, so far as possible. Even his partner was wary of him. Like Macurdy, Patsy Ha

Ha

Surprisingly, Ha

It never happened. Ha

That never happened either. Because one morning the sheriff and a deputy came to camp, Axel with them, bearing a warrant from Coos County for Ha

The crew had finished breakfast, and the men were gathered at the lunch tables, packing their lunches. As soon as the sheriff identified his purpose, Ha

His fourth shot hit no one, however, because Macurdy threw his heavy sheath knife, taking Ha

Macurdy used an Ozian shaman's version of first aid to hen p Axel and the sheriff. The deputy and Ha

He had no idea what Ha

5

Mary Preuss

Lars sent the crew to the woods anyway. Axel wasn't dead, he said, Ha

Production wasn't up to standard that day, of course, except by Klaplanahoo and Macurdy. There was a lot of talking, much of it about Macurdy: how quickly he'd moved, how accurately and powerfully he'd thrown.

Two days later a deputy arrived with a court order: Macurdy was to come in for a hearing. Lars demanded to know why. Because, the deputy told him, anyone who willfully killed someone, even with good cause, had to have a court hearing, to establish in law that the act had been necessary. That way, he explained, no one could ever claim he'd done wrong by it.

Lars explained back that that was a lot of bullshit-at no one could ever say there was anything wrong with what Macurdy had done. But he took the deputy out to Roy's and Macurdy's cutting strip, and Macurdy left for town in the sheriff department's new 1933 Ford V-8, with a radio like the police car in Miles City. Macurdy wasn't worried; the deputy's aura reflected friendly admiration.

In town, the sheriff, Fritzi Preuss, sat behind his desk with his right arm and shoulder in a cast. His face was drawn, his aura marked by trauma and the strong analgesic he'd been given for pain. Ha

Having come to Oregon to keep from being traced, the questions made Macurdy uncomfortable. "I'd rather my folks don't get word of this," he said. "They'd worry."

Fritzi grunted. "Your address I need only for the record. I'm not going to write to your family. But the law says I also have to contact the county there, to find out if you have a criminal record." He paused, fixing Macurdy with his eyes. "Do you have a criminal record?"

Macurdy shook his head. "No sir."

Fritzi smiled lopsidedly. "Good! I tell you what: We kill two birds with the same stone. I tell them I want the information because I'm considering hiring you as a deputy. I am, you know; to replace Marvin. You should make a good deputy. You are big; that helps when loggers are in town. You think quick; that's always good for a lawman. And after what you will have a reputation. They will talk about you in camps all the way to Canada, to California."