Summary

Portrait of Susanna Moodie Susanna Moodie Roughing it in the Bush — Chapter XVII: Our Logging-Bee

A logging-bee followed the burning of the fallow, as a matter of course. In the bush, where hands are few, and labour commands an enormous rate of wages, these gatherings are considered indispensable, and much has been written in their praise; but to me, they present the most disgusting picture of a bush life. They are noisy, riotous, drunken meetings, often terminating in violent quarrels, sometimes even in bloodshed. Accidents of the most serious nature often occur, and very little work is done when we consider the number of hands employed, and the great consumption of food and liquor.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Susanna Moodie Susanna Moodie Roughing it in the Bush — Chapter XVII: Our Logging-Bee

I was very ill, yet for hours at a time I had no friendly voice to cheer me, to proffer me a drink of cold water, or to attend to the poor babe; and worse, still worse, there was no one to help that pale, marble child, who lay so cold and still, with "half-closed violet eyes," as if death had already chilled her young heart in his iron grasp.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Susanna Moodie Susanna Moodie Roughing it in the Bush — Chapter XVII: Our Logging-Bee

In what respect is he better than us?" was an observation too frequently made use of at these gatherings. To see a bad man in the very worst point of view, follow him to a bee: be he profane, licentious, quarrelsome, or a rogue, all his native wickedness will be fully developed there.
Just after the last of these logging-bees, we had to part with our good servant Mary, and just at a time when it was the heaviest loss to me. Her father, who had been a dairyman in the north of Ireland, an honest, industrious man, had brought out upwards of one hundred pounds to this country.
Source: Wikisource

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