After a supper in the cook's shack such as Paul Bunion, that mythical but|
mighty figure of Lumber-Jack lore, might have eaten, Pierre tunes up his
fiddle. His swaying body and time-thumping boot are irresistible, and soon
forgetting the intense cold and toil of the long day, each hardy woodman is
pounding the rough floor with his spiked boots suiting his steps and capers
of his personal taste and intense need of rhythmical gratification.