by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
LIFE IN A LOG-HUT.
The log-hut was finished on the 1st of September, and not a day toosoon; for on that very day the winter set in with full severity. Aheavy fall of snow came down in the night; and next morning, when ourvoyageurs looked abroad, the ground was covered to the depth of a foot,or more; and the ice upon the lake was also white. Walking through thegreat wreaths now became very difficult; and the next thing to be donewas the making of "snow-shoes."
Snow-shoes are an invention of the Indians; and, in the winter of theArctic regions of America, are an article almost as indispensable asclothing itself. Without them, travelling afoot would be impossible.In these countries, as already stated, the snow often covers the groundto the depth of many feet; and remains without any considerablediminution for six, and, in some years, eight or nine months. At times,it is frozen hard enough on the surface to bear a man without thesnow-shoes; but oftener on account of thaws and fresh falls, it becomesquite soft, and at such times travelling over it is both difficult anddangerous. To avoid both the difficulty and the danger, the Indiansmake use of this _very_ singular sort of foot-wear--called "snow-shoes"by the English, and "raquets" by the Canadian voyageurs. They are usedby all the Indian tribes of the Hudson's Bay territory; and were it notfor them these people would be confined to one place for monthstogether, and could not follow the deer or other game. As almost allsavages are improvident, and none more so than the North AmericanIndians, were they prevented for a season from going out to hunt, wholetribes would starve. Indeed, many individuals of them perish withhunger as it is; and the life of all these Indians is nothing more thanone continued struggle for food enough to sustain them. In summer theyare often in the midst of plenty; slaughtering deer and buffalo byhundreds, taking out only the tongues, and recklessly leaving the fleshto the wolves! In winter the very same Indians may be seen without apound of meat in their encampment--the lives of themselves and theirfamilies depending upon the success of a single day's hunt!
But let us return to the snow-shoes. Let us see what they are, andlearn how they are made.
Any boy who has snared sparrows in snow-time, has, no doubt, done so bytying his snares upon a hoop netted across with twine or other smallcord. Now, if he will conceive his hoop bent into an oblong shape--something like what the figure of a boat turned on its mouth would makein snow--and if he will also fancy the netting to consist of thongs oftwisted deer-hide woven somewhat closely together, he will get a verygood idea of an Indian snow-shoe. It is usually from three to four feetlong, by about a foot wide at the middle part, from which it tapersgently to a point, both at the heel and toe. The frame, as I have said,is like the hoop of a boy's bird-snare. It is made of light, toughwood, and, of course, carefully bent and polished with the knife. Theslender branches of the "scrub-pine" (_Pinus Banksiana_) are esteemedexcellent for this purpose, as their wood is light, flexible and toughin its fibres. This is also a favourite tree, where it grows, to maketent-poles, canoe-timbers, and other implements required by the Indians;and these people use so much of it for their arrows, that it hasreceived from the Canadian voyageurs the name of _bois de fleche_(arrow-wood).
Well, then, the frame of the snow-shoes being bent to its proper shape,two transverse bars are placed across near the middle, and severalinches from each other. They are for the foot to rest upon, as well asto give strength to the whole structure. These being made fast, thenetting is woven on, and extends over the whole frame, with theexception of a little space in front of the bars where the ball of thefoot is to rest. This space is left free of netting, in order to allowplay to the toes while walking. The mesh-work is made of thongs usuallycut from the parchment-skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twistedintestines are used, and the netting exactly resembles that seen in"racquets" for ball play.
The snow-shoe, when finished, is simply fastened upon the foot by meansof straps or thongs; and a pair of them thus placed, will present asurface to the snow of nearly six square feet--more, if required, bymaking them larger. But this is enough to sustain the heaviest man uponthe softest snow, and an Indian thus "shod" will skim over the surfacelike a skater.
The shoes used by all tribes of Indians are not alike in shape. Thereare fashions and fancies in this respect. Some are made--as among theChippewa Indians--with one side of the frame nearly straight; and these,of course, will not do for either foot, but are "rights and lefts."Generally, however, the shape is such that the snow-shoe will fit eitherfoot.
The snow-shoes having now become a necessary thing, our young voyageursset about making a complete set for the whole party--that is, no lessthan four pairs. Norman was the "shoemaker," and Norman knew how. Hecould splice the frames, and work in the netting, equal to an Indiansquaw. Of course all the others assisted him. Lucien cut themoose-skin into fine regular strips; Basil waded off through the snow,and procured the frames from the wood of the scrub-pine-trees where hehad encountered the porcupine; and then he and Francois trimmed themwith their knives, and sweated them in the hot ashes until they becamedry, and ready for the hands of the "shoemaker."
This work occupied them several days, and then each had a pair of shoesfitted to his size and weight.
The next consideration was, to lay in a stock of meat. The moose hadfurnished them with enough for present use, but that would not lastlong, as there was no bread nor anything else to eat with it. Personsin their situation require a great deal of meat to sustain them, muchmore than those who live in great cities, who eat a variety ofsubstances, and drink many kinds of drinks. The healthy voyageur israrely without a keen appetite; and meat by itself is a food thatspeedily digests, and makes way for a fresh meal; so that the rationusually allowed to the _employes_ of the fur companies would appearlarge enough to supply the table of several families. For instance, insome parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, the voyageur is allowed eightpounds of buffalo-meat _per diem_! And yet it is all eaten by him, andsometimes deemed barely sufficient. A single deer, therefore, or even abuffalo, lasts a party of voyageurs for a very short time, since theyhave no other substance, such as bread or vegetables, to help it out.It was necessary, then, that our travellers should use all theirdiligence in laying up a stock of dried meat, before the winter becametoo cold for them to hunt. There was another consideration--theirclothing. They all had clothing sufficient for such weather as they hadyet experienced; but that would never do for the winter of the GreatSlave Lake, and they knew it. Many deer must be killed, and many hidesdressed, before they could make a full set of clothing for all, as wellas a set of deerskin blankets, which would be much needed.
As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, therefore, Basil and Normanwent out each day upon long hunting expeditions, from which they rarelyreturned before nightfall. Sometimes they brought with them a deer, ofthe caribou or reindeer species, and the "woodland" variety, which wereplenty at this place. They only carried to camp the best parts with theskin, as the flesh of the woodland caribou is not much esteemed. It islarger than the other kind--the "Barren Ground caribou," weighing aboutone hundred and fifty pounds; but both its venison and hide are ofinferior quality to those of the latter species. Sometimes our hunterskilled smaller game; and on several occasions they returned withouthaving emptied their guns at all. But there was one day that made upfor several--one grand day when they were extremely successful, and onwhich they killed a whole herd of moose, consisting of fiveindividuals--the old bull, a spike buck--that is, a young buck, whosehorns had not yet got antlers upon them--the cow, and two calves. Thesethey had tracked and followed for a long distance, and had succeeded, atlength, in running into a valley where the snow was exceedingly deep,and where the moose became entangled. There had been a shower of rainthe day before that had melted the surface of the snow; and this hadagain frozen into an icy crust, upon which the deer lacerated theirankles at every plunge, leaving a track of blood behind them as theyran. Under these circumstances they were easily
trailed, and Basil andNorman, skimming along upon their snow-shoes, soon came up with them,and shot first one and then another, until the whole herd were stretchedin the valley. They then butchered them, and hung the hides andquarters upon high branches, so as to secure them from wolves andwolverenes. When the job was finished, the whole place looked like agreat slaughter-yard! Next day a rude sledge was constructed; and thevoyageurs, returning in full force, transported the meat to camp. Hugefires were kindled outside the hut, and several days were spent incutting up and drying the flesh. Had our travellers been certain thatthe frost would have continued all winter, this would not have beennecessary--since the meat was already frozen as hard as a brick. Butthey knew that a sudden thaw would spoil it; and, as there was plenty ofgood firewood on the spot, they were not going to run the risk of losingit in that way.
They had now enough provision to last them for months; and huntingbecame no longer necessary, except to obtain fresh meat--which was, ofcourse, preferable to the dry stock. Hunting, also, gave them exerciseand amusement--both of which were necessary to their health; for toremain idle and inactive in a situation such as that in which they wereplaced is the worst possible plan, and is sure to engender both sicknessand _ennui_. Indeed, the last grew upon them, notwithstanding all thepains they took to prevent it. There were days on which the cold was soextreme, that they could not put their noses out of the door without thedanger of having them frost-bitten--although each had now a completesuit of deerskin clothing, made by Lucien, the "tailor" of the party.Upon such days they were fain to remain shut up in their hut; and,seated around their huge log-fire, they passed the time in cleaningtheir guns, mending their nets, stitching their clothes, and such-likeemployments. These days were far from being their dullest; for, whatwith the varied and scientific knowledge of Lucien, which he tookpleasure in imparting to his companions--what with the practicalexperience of Norman amid scenes of Arctic life, and the many "voyageurtales" he could tell--what with Francois' merry jokes and _bon mots_--and what with Basil's _talent for listening_--not the least importantelement in a good _conversazione_,--our _quartette_ of young voyageursfound their indoor days anything but dull.
This was all well enough for a while. For a month or two they boretheir odd kind of life cheerfully enough; but the prospect of nearly sixmonths more of it began to appal them, when they reflected upon it; andthey soon found themselves longing for a change. Hunting adventures,that at other times would have interested them, now occurred withoutcreating any excitement; and the whole routine of their employmentsseemed monotonous. Nearly all of them were boys of an active characterof mind; and most of them were old enough to reason about the value oftime. Their idea of such a long isolation from civilised life, and,above all, the being debarred from following any useful pursuit, beganto impress some of them forcibly. Others, as Francois, could not becontented for a very great stretch of time with any sort of life; sothat all of them began to sigh for a change.
One day, while conversing upon this theme, a bold proposal was made byBasil. It was, that they should "strike camp," and continue theirjourney. This proposal took the others by surprise, but they were alljust in the frame of mind to entertain and discuss it; and a longconsultation was held upon the point. Francois chimed in with theproposal at once; while Lucien, more cautious, did not exactly oppose,but rather offered the reasons that were against it, and pointed out theperils of the undertaking. Norman, of course, was appealed to--all ofthem looking to him as one whose advice, upon that question at least,was more valuable than their own.
Norman admitted the dangers pointed out by Lucien, but believed thatthey might overcome them by a proper caution. On the whole, Normanapproved of the plan, and it was at length adopted. Perhaps Norman'shabitual prudence was to some extent influenced on this occasion by thevery natural desire he had of returning to what he considered his home.He had now been absent nearly two years, and was desirous of once moreseeing his father and his old companions at the Fort. There was anotherfeeling that influenced nearly all of them: that was _ambition_. Theyknew that to make such a journey would be something of a feat, and theywished to have the credit of performing it. To minds like that ofBasil, even the danger had something attractive in it. It was resolvedthen to break up the encampment, and continue their journey.