The log-hut was finished on the 1st of September, and not a day too
soon; for on that very day the winter set in with full severity. A
heavy fall of snow came down in the night; and next morning, when our
voyageurs 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 the
great wreaths now became very difficult; and the next thing to be done
was the making of "snow-shoes."
Snow-shoes are an invention of the Indians; and, in the winter of the
Arctic regions of America, are an article almost as indispensable as
clothing itself. Without them, travelling afoot would be impossible.
In these countries, as already stated, the snow often covers the ground
to the depth of many feet; and remains without any considerable
diminution 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 the
snow-shoes; but oftener on account of thaws and fresh falls, it becomes
quite soft, and at such times travelling over it is both difficult and
dangerous. To avoid both the difficulty and the danger, the Indians
make use of this _very_ singular sort of foot-wear--called "snow-shoes"
by the English, and "raquets" by the Canadian voyageurs. They are used
by all the Indian tribes of the Hudson's Bay territory; and were it not
for them these people would be confined to one place for months
together, and could not follow the deer or other game. As almost all
savages are improvident, and none more so than the North American
Indians, were they prevented for a season from going out to hunt, whole
tribes would starve. Indeed, many individuals of them perish with
hunger as it is; and the life of all these Indians is nothing more than
one continued struggle for food enough to sustain them. In summer they
are often in the midst of plenty; slaughtering deer and buffalo by
hundreds, taking out only the tongues, and recklessly leaving the flesh
to the wolves! In winter the very same Indians may be seen without a
pound of meat in their encampment--the lives of themselves and their
families depending upon the success of a single day's hunt!
But let us return to the snow-shoes. Let us see what they are, and
learn how they are made.
Any boy who has snared sparrows in snow-time, has, no doubt, done so by
tying his snares upon a hoop netted across with twine or other small
cord. 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 make
in snow--and if he will also fancy the netting to consist of thongs of
twisted deer-hide woven somewhat closely together, he will get a very
good idea of an Indian snow-shoe. It is usually from three to four feet
long, by about a foot wide at the middle part, from which it tapers
gently 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, tough
wood, and, of course, carefully bent and polished with the knife. The
slender branches of the "scrub-pine" (_Pinus Banksiana_) are esteemed
excellent for this purpose, as their wood is light, flexible and tough
in its fibres. This is also a favourite tree, where it grows, to make
tent-poles, canoe-timbers, and other implements required by the Indians;
and these people use so much of it for their arrows, that it has
received 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 several
inches from each other. They are for the foot to rest upon, as well as
to give strength to the whole structure. These being made fast, the
netting is woven on, and extends over the whole frame, with the
exception of a little space in front of the bars where the ball of the
foot is to rest. This space is left free of netting, in order to allow
play to the toes while walking. The mesh-work is made of thongs usually
cut from the parchment-skin of a deer, and twisted. Sometimes twisted
intestines 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 means
of straps or thongs; and a pair of them thus placed, will present a
surface to the snow of nearly six square feet--more, if required, by
making them larger. But this is enough to sustain the heaviest man upon
the softest snow, and an Indian thus "shod" will skim over the surface
like a skater.
The shoes used by all tribes of Indians are not alike in shape. There
are fashions and fancies in this respect. Some are made--as among the
Chippewa 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 either
foot.
The snow-shoes having now become a necessary thing, our young voyageurs
set about making a complete set for the whole party--that is, no less
than four pairs. Norman was the "shoemaker," and Norman knew how. He
could splice the frames, and work in the netting, equal to an Indian
squaw. Of course all the others assisted him. Lucien cut the
moose-skin into fine regular strips; Basil waded off through the snow,
and procured the frames from the wood of the scrub-pine-trees where he
had encountered the porcupine; and then he and Francois trimmed them
with their knives, and sweated them in the hot ashes until they became
dry, and ready for the hands of the "shoemaker."
This work occupied them several days, and then each had a pair of shoes
fitted to his size and weight.
The next consideration was, to lay in a stock of meat. The moose had
furnished them with enough for present use, but that would not last
long, as there was no bread nor anything else to eat with it. Persons
in their situation require a great deal of meat to sustain them, much
more than those who live in great cities, who eat a variety of
substances, and drink many kinds of drinks. The healthy voyageur is
rarely without a keen appetite; and meat by itself is a food that
speedily digests, and makes way for a fresh meal; so that the ration
usually allowed to the _employes_ of the fur companies would appear
large enough to supply the table of several families. For instance, in
some parts of the Hudson's Bay territory, the voyageur is allowed eight
pounds of buffalo-meat _per diem_! And yet it is all eaten by him, and
sometimes deemed barely sufficient. A single deer, therefore, or even a
buffalo, lasts a party of voyageurs for a very short time, since they
have no other substance, such as bread or vegetables, to help it out.
It was necessary, then, that our travellers should use all their
diligence in laying up a stock of dried meat, before the winter became
too cold for them to hunt. There was another consideration--their
clothing. They all had clothing sufficient for such weather as they had
yet experienced; but that would never do for the winter of the Great
Slave Lake, and they knew it. Many deer must be killed, and many hides
dressed, before they could make a full set of clothing for all, as well
as a set of deerskin blankets, which would be much needed.
As soon as the snow-shoes were finished, therefore, Basil and Norman
went out each day upon long hunting expeditions, from which they rarely
returned before nightfall. Sometimes they brought with them a deer, of
the caribou or reindeer species, and the "woodland" variety, which were
plenty at this place. They only carried to camp the best parts with the
skin, as the flesh of the woodland caribou is not much esteemed. It is
larger than the other kind--the "Barren Ground caribou," weighing about
one hundred and fifty pounds; but both its venison and hide are of
inferior quality to those of the latter species. Sometimes our hunters
killed smaller game; and on several occasions they returned without
having emptied their guns at all. But there was one day that made up
for several--one grand day when they were extremely successful, and on
which they killed a whole herd of moose, consisting of five
individuals--the old bull, a spike buck--that is, a young buck, whose
horns had not yet got antlers upon them--the cow, and two calves. These
they had tracked and followed for a long distance, and had succeeded, at
length, in running into a valley where the snow was exceedingly deep,
and where the moose became entangled. There had been a shower of rain
the day before that had melted the surface of the snow; and this had
again frozen into an icy crust, upon which the deer lacerated their
ankles at every plunge, leaving a track of blood behind them as they
ran. Under these circumstances they were easily trailed, and Basil and
Norman, skimming along upon their snow-shoes, soon came up with them,
and shot first one and then another, until the whole herd were stretched
in the valley. They then butchered them, and hung the hides and
quarters upon high branches, so as to secure them from wolves and
wolverenes. When the job was finished, the whole place looked like a
great slaughter-yard! Next day a rude sledge was constructed; and the
voyageurs, returning in full force, transported the meat to camp. Huge
fires were kindled outside the hut, and several days were spent in
cutting up and drying the flesh. Had our travellers been certain that
the frost would have continued all winter, this would not have been
necessary--since the meat was already frozen as hard as a brick. But
they knew that a sudden thaw would spoil it; and, as there was plenty of
good firewood on the spot, they were not going to run the risk of losing
it in that way.
They had now enough provision to last them for months; and hunting
became no longer necessary, except to obtain fresh meat--which was, of
course, preferable to the dry stock. Hunting, also, gave them exercise
and amusement--both of which were necessary to their health; for to
remain idle and inactive in a situation such as that in which they were
placed is the worst possible plan, and is sure to engender both sickness
and _ennui_. Indeed, the last grew upon them, notwithstanding all the
pains they took to prevent it. There were days on which the cold was so
extreme, that they could not put their noses out of the door without the
danger of having them frost-bitten--although each had now a complete
suit 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 cleaning
their guns, mending their nets, stitching their clothes, and such-like
employments. These days were far from being their dullest; for, what
with the varied and scientific knowledge of Lucien, which he took
pleasure in imparting to his companions--what with the practical
experience of Norman amid scenes of Arctic life, and the many "voyageur
tales" he could tell--what with Francois' merry jokes and _bon mots_--
and what with Basil's _talent for listening_--not the least important
element in a good _conversazione_,--our _quartette_ of young voyageurs
found their indoor days anything but dull.
This was all well enough for a while. For a month or two they bore
their odd kind of life cheerfully enough; but the prospect of nearly six
months more of it began to appal them, when they reflected upon it; and
they soon found themselves longing for a change. Hunting adventures,
that at other times would have interested them, now occurred without
creating any excitement; and the whole routine of their employments
seemed monotonous. Nearly all of them were boys of an active character
of mind; and most of them were old enough to reason about the value of
time. Their idea of such a long isolation from civilised life, and,
above all, the being debarred from following any useful pursuit, began
to impress some of them forcibly. Others, as Francois, could not be
contented for a very great stretch of time with any sort of life; so
that all of them began to sigh for a change.
One day, while conversing upon this theme, a bold proposal was made by
Basil. It was, that they should "strike camp," and continue their
journey. This proposal took the others by surprise, but they were all
just in the frame of mind to entertain and discuss it; and a long
consultation was held upon the point. Francois chimed in with the
proposal at once; while Lucien, more cautious, did not exactly oppose,
but rather offered the reasons that were against it, and pointed out the
perils of the undertaking. Norman, of course, was appealed to--all of
them 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 that
they might overcome them by a proper caution. On the whole, Norman
approved of the plan, and it was at length adopted. Perhaps Norman's
habitual prudence was to some extent influenced on this occasion by the
very 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 more
seeing his father and his old companions at the Fort. There was another
feeling that influenced nearly all of them: that was _ambition_. They
knew that to make such a journey would be something of a feat, and they
wished to have the credit of performing it. To minds like that of
Basil, even the danger had something attractive in it. It was resolved
then to break up the encampment, and continue their journey.