INLAND PACKS.
Prior to 1865, furs at inland posts were made up in packs of ninety
pounds for transport to the frontier, but some of the young canoe men
were not sufficiently strong to handle such a weight in debarking or
loading them into the canoes, and a pack slipping from their grasp
into the water and becoming wet inside caused delay to the whole
brigade. A stop had to be made and the damaged pack unlaced, dried
and repaired, before the journey could be resumed.
About the year mentioned, a top pack slipped off a man's back while
being carried over a side portage, and before the man could save it
had bounded down the hillside into the rapid, and was lost.
This happened to be a very valuable package, and its loss being
reported called forth the next year, from headquarters, a general
order to reduce the weight from ninety to eighty pounds per pack, and
to make each package of pure skins--i. e., skins of only one kind.
This order to discontinue the mixing of skins was not pleasing to
post managers, inasmuch as a smaller and better pack can be
constructed of mixed skins than of only one kind.
For the information of trappers of to-day, I will give a summary of
how many of each kind of skins made up, as nearly as possible, the
prescribed weight of eighty pounds, thus:
Forty large beavers and 20 small beavers made 80 pounds.
Eight large bears and 4 small bears made 80 pounds.
Five hundred spring rats, 80 pounds.
Seven hundred and twenty large and small rats, fall, 80 pounds.
Two beavers, large, for top and bottom covers, and 60 lynx skins
made 80 pounds.
Two beavers for covers and 30 otters made 80 pounds.
Two beavers for covers and 50 fox skins made 80 pounds.
We had orders to gather such furs as fisher, ermine, wolf, wolverine,
skunk, and any broken or damaged skins, and make up into a separate
pack.
The fine and delicate skins, as marten, mink, silver and cross foxes,
were to be packed in boxes thirty inches long by twenty inches
square, and into this small compass the martens and mink, after being
tied in bundles of ten skins each, were packed to the number of four
hundred skins.
This made a very valuable package, and the greatest care was taken of
it the whole journey. Valuing them at only $5 each, one of these
boxes represented the sum of $2,000.
We all saw that this mode of packing would not last; as, taking the
best of care, accidents will happen, and they began the very year
after the order came in force. Leaving a disagreeable job to the
last, the men at each carrying place avoided these boxes, and there
was a struggle to see who would not carry them. The sharp corners
abraded the men's backs, and when carried on top of a pack they hurt
the back of the head; so, as a rule, they were generally left till
the last load, and then taken with bitter comments, and a fervent
wish that the promulgator of the order for such packages were himself
present to portage them over the carry.
Two of these marten boxes were left by one of our crews in the middle
of a brule. In making the former trip some careless fellow must have
thrown down a half-burnt match; in a few moments dense clouds of
smoke arose in their rear. The country was as dry as tinder, and in
the space of a very few minutes the flames swept to the other end of
the portage, licking up in passing those valuable boxes and contents.
We, figuratively, locked the door for the balance of that trip after
the horse had been stolen, for the remaining boxes were stored each
night in the officers' tent, and during the day a responsible person
was on guard over them.
It was a severe loss out of the returns of one post. No one, perhaps,
could be blamed for it, but it had the desired effect of repealing
the order, and we were told to pack as in the good "old corn-meal
days," and mix our furs.
To arrive at an average of each kind of skins through each and every
pack, we counted the whole returns and estimated the gross weight,
and then divided so many of each kind of furs through the several
packs, something like this: 10 beavers, 2 bears, 40 marten, 10 mink,
100 rats, 4 foxes, 4 otters, 4 lynx--80 pounds, or as the average
might count out.
Previous to packing, the skins were neatly folded, placed in a pile
and weighted down for a week. They were then built in the desired
pack shape and underwent a severe wedge press hammering to reduce the
bulk, then tied with three strong cross lashings, either of raw
cowhide or twenty-four-thread cod line, and when all was secure, the
wedges being released, the pack tumbled out complete, less the
lateral tyings, which were two in number, of eighteen-thread cod
line.
The size of one of these packs, ready for transportation, was 24
inches long, 17 inches broad, and 10 inches thick. The expansion of
the compressed skins would, after a few days, give it a rounded shape
in the middle, but when first out of the press it was almost
perfectly square, and it was the pride of each post manager to outdo
the others in the beauty and solidity of his packs.
A well-made pack would withstand the ill usage and the hundreds of
handlings in making a journey of four or five hundred miles from an
interior post, and would reach the first steamer or train of cars
without a tying giving way. In my young days I have seen a pile of
296 of these packs on the beach at one portage.
An anecdote relating to the care of such a valuable cargo may be here
appended. An old factor who had not left the interior for
twenty-seven years, applied for and received leave to visit
civilization with the understanding that he would take care of the
furs in transit. This he did during a journey of days and weeks
coming down the great river, standing at each portage till every pack
was over, and checking them off by numbers and the aggregate.
At last he reached steamboat navigation, shipped his packs, and had
the bill of lading in his pocket. Having shipped the furs he took
passage on the same boat. During the midnight hours the captain, in
making his rounds, was surprised to find a man sitting among the
cargo. Who was this but Mr. S., still keeping his faithful watch. The
captain asked why he was not abed in his stateroom.
"Well," he replied, "I saw rough deck hands going about the packs,
and thought it better to keep an eye on them."
The captain laughed. "Why, man," he said, "we have signed bills of
lading for those goods, and we are responsible for their safe
delivery. Go to bed, Mr. S.," he continued, "and rest in peace, for
even you have no right to touch one of those packs, now they are
aboard this vessel."
That was in 1873, and I believe that old gentleman is alive yet. He
retired many years ago and settled in Ontario.