[Contents]CHAPTER XXIIITHE BEAVER HUNTIf Bruce and Ray had ever had the idea that Indians in camp led a lazy life, they now found out their mistake.Ganawa had made two chisels out of the big bones of a moose, and these chisels the lads learned to use in peeling spruce and cedar bark for a winter bark-house. They also secured some pieces of birch-bark, but most of the birches would no longer peel. However, with the aid of their bone chisels they soon secured enough spruce and cedar bark to build a round hut of poles and bark, such as the Chippewa Indians have built for many centuries. No nails were used in the construction of the house, the pieces of bark being tied in place with watap, rawhide, or thongs of willow bark.“We need this house if our tepee gets too cold, and if we live in the tepee we[180]need it to keep our meat and other things so we do not lose them in the deep snow,” Ganawa told the lads.When the bark-house was finished, he told the boys that they must secure some kind of skins to make themselves a robe for winter. “Our women make very warm blankets,” he explained, “by weaving together many strips of rabbit skins, but rabbits are very scarce around here. The hide of a moose is too heavy, so we must try to get some beavers. But we have no traps and we cannot wait till the ponds freeze over; we must try to catch them when they are cutting trees. I think in this country the beaver have not been hunted much, and we may find them working in the daytime.”A few days later, the Chippewa returned to camp and told that he had found a beaver pond not far away, and on the following afternoon the three campers started out to try their luck on the shy and wary beavers. Tawny was also allowed to go along, for he was a good hunting dog, and never broke[181]until he was told to go. The hunters approached with the utmost care, against the wind, the place where the beavers were cutting their winter food supply of poplars. The pond had been occupied for several years, the trees near the pond had all been cut, and as a result the animals had to work more than fifty yards from water.In the water and in his house surrounded by water, a beaver can laugh at all his enemies with the possible exception of the otter. But even the otter, although like the beaver, he is an expert swimmer and diver, probably has to be content with catching a careless young beaver now and then. However, on land the beaver is less at home than any old-time sailor ever was; he can neither put up a good fight nor make a good run for safety.When the hunters carefully peeped over a ridge to the beavers’ lumber-yard, the hearts of the white boys almost stopped beating. Close by, within twenty yards they saw eight or ten beavers. “They are working[182]like beavers,” Ray whispered. And so they were. Some sitting on their haunches were cutting down trees, others were busy cutting felled trees into sections four or five feet long, and still others seemed to be lopping off the smaller branches.But there was not much time to watch a scene which very few white men have ever been lucky enough to observe. When Ganawa gave the signal to fire, four beavers toppled over, and Tawny caught and killed two more before the frightened animals could scamper to the safety of their pond.Ray let out a shout and was going to run over to the game, but Ganawa reminded him that a good hunter always reloads his gun before he does anything else.Neither of the lads had ever closely examined a beaver, and they had many questions to ask about its peculiar structures. They were curious about the flat hairless tail, which looks as if it were covered with black scales; the short and stubby forelegs, the powerful hindlegs with webbed feet, and[183]the sharp front teeth with which the beaver people can cut down trees much faster than any Indians with primitive stone axes.But Ganawa fingered fondly the dense woolly fur under the long dark brown hair. “The fur is good,” he remarked. “It will make a good warm robe for my sons.”On the way to camp, the lads received another jolt to their former idea about the lazy life of an Indian hunter. Ganawa carried three beavers, Bruce took two and Ray carried one. An adult beaver weighs from thirty to fifty pounds, and when Ray dropped his game at the end of a three-mile walk through brush and timber, he felt sure that his beaver weighed a hundred pounds.Ganawa quickly skinned the smallest beaver, cut up the best of the meat and put it in the kettle. Then he scalded the black tail over the fire, and the skin blistered and came off easily. He cut the tail into several pieces and added them to the meat in the kettle.“My sons,” he spoke, “put a little salt[184]in the kettle and some of the wild onions you have gathered. And when the meat is almost done, you must add a little of the wild rice I have in my pack. To-night we shall make a big feast. We shall have beaver meat and beaver-tail soup. Some white hunters say they do not care much for beaver meat, but all are very fond of beaver-tail soup. I have cut up the meat of a young beaver and you will find it very good.”The lads had grown accustomed by this time to a diet of fish and meat, but they were glad of any change and both of them said that beaver meat and beaver-tail soup were the best foods they had ever eaten. The meat was dark and tasted much like the dark meat of a chicken.The tail of a beaver does not consist of muscle, but of a peculiar white, fatty, and gristly texture. When boiled it looks and tastes like very young fat pork, and the boys left none of it in the kettle. It is this part of the beaver which furnishes the beaver-tail soup, highly praised in many old journals[185]but never described in detail. The writer of this story has cooked beaver meat and beaver-tail soup and can testify to the fact that both are good.If any of my readers ever have a chance to make a beaver stew, or beaver-tail soup, I would advise that they boil the meat with a liberal pinch of “mixed spices”—the kind one buys in paper boxes. Beaver-tail soup with wild rice thus properly seasoned is much too good for a king, but just the food for a tired and hungry camper.Bruce and Ray could not get enough of the soup and when the feast was over there was nothing left but some bones and scraps for Tawny. It had been a real feast, and when the few dishes were washed, the lads built a camp-fire and asked Ganawa to tell them of his own boyhood of long ago.[186]
[Contents]CHAPTER XXIIITHE BEAVER HUNTIf Bruce and Ray had ever had the idea that Indians in camp led a lazy life, they now found out their mistake.Ganawa had made two chisels out of the big bones of a moose, and these chisels the lads learned to use in peeling spruce and cedar bark for a winter bark-house. They also secured some pieces of birch-bark, but most of the birches would no longer peel. However, with the aid of their bone chisels they soon secured enough spruce and cedar bark to build a round hut of poles and bark, such as the Chippewa Indians have built for many centuries. No nails were used in the construction of the house, the pieces of bark being tied in place with watap, rawhide, or thongs of willow bark.“We need this house if our tepee gets too cold, and if we live in the tepee we[180]need it to keep our meat and other things so we do not lose them in the deep snow,” Ganawa told the lads.When the bark-house was finished, he told the boys that they must secure some kind of skins to make themselves a robe for winter. “Our women make very warm blankets,” he explained, “by weaving together many strips of rabbit skins, but rabbits are very scarce around here. The hide of a moose is too heavy, so we must try to get some beavers. But we have no traps and we cannot wait till the ponds freeze over; we must try to catch them when they are cutting trees. I think in this country the beaver have not been hunted much, and we may find them working in the daytime.”A few days later, the Chippewa returned to camp and told that he had found a beaver pond not far away, and on the following afternoon the three campers started out to try their luck on the shy and wary beavers. Tawny was also allowed to go along, for he was a good hunting dog, and never broke[181]until he was told to go. The hunters approached with the utmost care, against the wind, the place where the beavers were cutting their winter food supply of poplars. The pond had been occupied for several years, the trees near the pond had all been cut, and as a result the animals had to work more than fifty yards from water.In the water and in his house surrounded by water, a beaver can laugh at all his enemies with the possible exception of the otter. But even the otter, although like the beaver, he is an expert swimmer and diver, probably has to be content with catching a careless young beaver now and then. However, on land the beaver is less at home than any old-time sailor ever was; he can neither put up a good fight nor make a good run for safety.When the hunters carefully peeped over a ridge to the beavers’ lumber-yard, the hearts of the white boys almost stopped beating. Close by, within twenty yards they saw eight or ten beavers. “They are working[182]like beavers,” Ray whispered. And so they were. Some sitting on their haunches were cutting down trees, others were busy cutting felled trees into sections four or five feet long, and still others seemed to be lopping off the smaller branches.But there was not much time to watch a scene which very few white men have ever been lucky enough to observe. When Ganawa gave the signal to fire, four beavers toppled over, and Tawny caught and killed two more before the frightened animals could scamper to the safety of their pond.Ray let out a shout and was going to run over to the game, but Ganawa reminded him that a good hunter always reloads his gun before he does anything else.Neither of the lads had ever closely examined a beaver, and they had many questions to ask about its peculiar structures. They were curious about the flat hairless tail, which looks as if it were covered with black scales; the short and stubby forelegs, the powerful hindlegs with webbed feet, and[183]the sharp front teeth with which the beaver people can cut down trees much faster than any Indians with primitive stone axes.But Ganawa fingered fondly the dense woolly fur under the long dark brown hair. “The fur is good,” he remarked. “It will make a good warm robe for my sons.”On the way to camp, the lads received another jolt to their former idea about the lazy life of an Indian hunter. Ganawa carried three beavers, Bruce took two and Ray carried one. An adult beaver weighs from thirty to fifty pounds, and when Ray dropped his game at the end of a three-mile walk through brush and timber, he felt sure that his beaver weighed a hundred pounds.Ganawa quickly skinned the smallest beaver, cut up the best of the meat and put it in the kettle. Then he scalded the black tail over the fire, and the skin blistered and came off easily. He cut the tail into several pieces and added them to the meat in the kettle.“My sons,” he spoke, “put a little salt[184]in the kettle and some of the wild onions you have gathered. And when the meat is almost done, you must add a little of the wild rice I have in my pack. To-night we shall make a big feast. We shall have beaver meat and beaver-tail soup. Some white hunters say they do not care much for beaver meat, but all are very fond of beaver-tail soup. I have cut up the meat of a young beaver and you will find it very good.”The lads had grown accustomed by this time to a diet of fish and meat, but they were glad of any change and both of them said that beaver meat and beaver-tail soup were the best foods they had ever eaten. The meat was dark and tasted much like the dark meat of a chicken.The tail of a beaver does not consist of muscle, but of a peculiar white, fatty, and gristly texture. When boiled it looks and tastes like very young fat pork, and the boys left none of it in the kettle. It is this part of the beaver which furnishes the beaver-tail soup, highly praised in many old journals[185]but never described in detail. The writer of this story has cooked beaver meat and beaver-tail soup and can testify to the fact that both are good.If any of my readers ever have a chance to make a beaver stew, or beaver-tail soup, I would advise that they boil the meat with a liberal pinch of “mixed spices”—the kind one buys in paper boxes. Beaver-tail soup with wild rice thus properly seasoned is much too good for a king, but just the food for a tired and hungry camper.Bruce and Ray could not get enough of the soup and when the feast was over there was nothing left but some bones and scraps for Tawny. It had been a real feast, and when the few dishes were washed, the lads built a camp-fire and asked Ganawa to tell them of his own boyhood of long ago.[186]
CHAPTER XXIIITHE BEAVER HUNT
If Bruce and Ray had ever had the idea that Indians in camp led a lazy life, they now found out their mistake.Ganawa had made two chisels out of the big bones of a moose, and these chisels the lads learned to use in peeling spruce and cedar bark for a winter bark-house. They also secured some pieces of birch-bark, but most of the birches would no longer peel. However, with the aid of their bone chisels they soon secured enough spruce and cedar bark to build a round hut of poles and bark, such as the Chippewa Indians have built for many centuries. No nails were used in the construction of the house, the pieces of bark being tied in place with watap, rawhide, or thongs of willow bark.“We need this house if our tepee gets too cold, and if we live in the tepee we[180]need it to keep our meat and other things so we do not lose them in the deep snow,” Ganawa told the lads.When the bark-house was finished, he told the boys that they must secure some kind of skins to make themselves a robe for winter. “Our women make very warm blankets,” he explained, “by weaving together many strips of rabbit skins, but rabbits are very scarce around here. The hide of a moose is too heavy, so we must try to get some beavers. But we have no traps and we cannot wait till the ponds freeze over; we must try to catch them when they are cutting trees. I think in this country the beaver have not been hunted much, and we may find them working in the daytime.”A few days later, the Chippewa returned to camp and told that he had found a beaver pond not far away, and on the following afternoon the three campers started out to try their luck on the shy and wary beavers. Tawny was also allowed to go along, for he was a good hunting dog, and never broke[181]until he was told to go. The hunters approached with the utmost care, against the wind, the place where the beavers were cutting their winter food supply of poplars. The pond had been occupied for several years, the trees near the pond had all been cut, and as a result the animals had to work more than fifty yards from water.In the water and in his house surrounded by water, a beaver can laugh at all his enemies with the possible exception of the otter. But even the otter, although like the beaver, he is an expert swimmer and diver, probably has to be content with catching a careless young beaver now and then. However, on land the beaver is less at home than any old-time sailor ever was; he can neither put up a good fight nor make a good run for safety.When the hunters carefully peeped over a ridge to the beavers’ lumber-yard, the hearts of the white boys almost stopped beating. Close by, within twenty yards they saw eight or ten beavers. “They are working[182]like beavers,” Ray whispered. And so they were. Some sitting on their haunches were cutting down trees, others were busy cutting felled trees into sections four or five feet long, and still others seemed to be lopping off the smaller branches.But there was not much time to watch a scene which very few white men have ever been lucky enough to observe. When Ganawa gave the signal to fire, four beavers toppled over, and Tawny caught and killed two more before the frightened animals could scamper to the safety of their pond.Ray let out a shout and was going to run over to the game, but Ganawa reminded him that a good hunter always reloads his gun before he does anything else.Neither of the lads had ever closely examined a beaver, and they had many questions to ask about its peculiar structures. They were curious about the flat hairless tail, which looks as if it were covered with black scales; the short and stubby forelegs, the powerful hindlegs with webbed feet, and[183]the sharp front teeth with which the beaver people can cut down trees much faster than any Indians with primitive stone axes.But Ganawa fingered fondly the dense woolly fur under the long dark brown hair. “The fur is good,” he remarked. “It will make a good warm robe for my sons.”On the way to camp, the lads received another jolt to their former idea about the lazy life of an Indian hunter. Ganawa carried three beavers, Bruce took two and Ray carried one. An adult beaver weighs from thirty to fifty pounds, and when Ray dropped his game at the end of a three-mile walk through brush and timber, he felt sure that his beaver weighed a hundred pounds.Ganawa quickly skinned the smallest beaver, cut up the best of the meat and put it in the kettle. Then he scalded the black tail over the fire, and the skin blistered and came off easily. He cut the tail into several pieces and added them to the meat in the kettle.“My sons,” he spoke, “put a little salt[184]in the kettle and some of the wild onions you have gathered. And when the meat is almost done, you must add a little of the wild rice I have in my pack. To-night we shall make a big feast. We shall have beaver meat and beaver-tail soup. Some white hunters say they do not care much for beaver meat, but all are very fond of beaver-tail soup. I have cut up the meat of a young beaver and you will find it very good.”The lads had grown accustomed by this time to a diet of fish and meat, but they were glad of any change and both of them said that beaver meat and beaver-tail soup were the best foods they had ever eaten. The meat was dark and tasted much like the dark meat of a chicken.The tail of a beaver does not consist of muscle, but of a peculiar white, fatty, and gristly texture. When boiled it looks and tastes like very young fat pork, and the boys left none of it in the kettle. It is this part of the beaver which furnishes the beaver-tail soup, highly praised in many old journals[185]but never described in detail. The writer of this story has cooked beaver meat and beaver-tail soup and can testify to the fact that both are good.If any of my readers ever have a chance to make a beaver stew, or beaver-tail soup, I would advise that they boil the meat with a liberal pinch of “mixed spices”—the kind one buys in paper boxes. Beaver-tail soup with wild rice thus properly seasoned is much too good for a king, but just the food for a tired and hungry camper.Bruce and Ray could not get enough of the soup and when the feast was over there was nothing left but some bones and scraps for Tawny. It had been a real feast, and when the few dishes were washed, the lads built a camp-fire and asked Ganawa to tell them of his own boyhood of long ago.[186]
If Bruce and Ray had ever had the idea that Indians in camp led a lazy life, they now found out their mistake.
Ganawa had made two chisels out of the big bones of a moose, and these chisels the lads learned to use in peeling spruce and cedar bark for a winter bark-house. They also secured some pieces of birch-bark, but most of the birches would no longer peel. However, with the aid of their bone chisels they soon secured enough spruce and cedar bark to build a round hut of poles and bark, such as the Chippewa Indians have built for many centuries. No nails were used in the construction of the house, the pieces of bark being tied in place with watap, rawhide, or thongs of willow bark.
“We need this house if our tepee gets too cold, and if we live in the tepee we[180]need it to keep our meat and other things so we do not lose them in the deep snow,” Ganawa told the lads.
When the bark-house was finished, he told the boys that they must secure some kind of skins to make themselves a robe for winter. “Our women make very warm blankets,” he explained, “by weaving together many strips of rabbit skins, but rabbits are very scarce around here. The hide of a moose is too heavy, so we must try to get some beavers. But we have no traps and we cannot wait till the ponds freeze over; we must try to catch them when they are cutting trees. I think in this country the beaver have not been hunted much, and we may find them working in the daytime.”
A few days later, the Chippewa returned to camp and told that he had found a beaver pond not far away, and on the following afternoon the three campers started out to try their luck on the shy and wary beavers. Tawny was also allowed to go along, for he was a good hunting dog, and never broke[181]until he was told to go. The hunters approached with the utmost care, against the wind, the place where the beavers were cutting their winter food supply of poplars. The pond had been occupied for several years, the trees near the pond had all been cut, and as a result the animals had to work more than fifty yards from water.
In the water and in his house surrounded by water, a beaver can laugh at all his enemies with the possible exception of the otter. But even the otter, although like the beaver, he is an expert swimmer and diver, probably has to be content with catching a careless young beaver now and then. However, on land the beaver is less at home than any old-time sailor ever was; he can neither put up a good fight nor make a good run for safety.
When the hunters carefully peeped over a ridge to the beavers’ lumber-yard, the hearts of the white boys almost stopped beating. Close by, within twenty yards they saw eight or ten beavers. “They are working[182]like beavers,” Ray whispered. And so they were. Some sitting on their haunches were cutting down trees, others were busy cutting felled trees into sections four or five feet long, and still others seemed to be lopping off the smaller branches.
But there was not much time to watch a scene which very few white men have ever been lucky enough to observe. When Ganawa gave the signal to fire, four beavers toppled over, and Tawny caught and killed two more before the frightened animals could scamper to the safety of their pond.
Ray let out a shout and was going to run over to the game, but Ganawa reminded him that a good hunter always reloads his gun before he does anything else.
Neither of the lads had ever closely examined a beaver, and they had many questions to ask about its peculiar structures. They were curious about the flat hairless tail, which looks as if it were covered with black scales; the short and stubby forelegs, the powerful hindlegs with webbed feet, and[183]the sharp front teeth with which the beaver people can cut down trees much faster than any Indians with primitive stone axes.
But Ganawa fingered fondly the dense woolly fur under the long dark brown hair. “The fur is good,” he remarked. “It will make a good warm robe for my sons.”
On the way to camp, the lads received another jolt to their former idea about the lazy life of an Indian hunter. Ganawa carried three beavers, Bruce took two and Ray carried one. An adult beaver weighs from thirty to fifty pounds, and when Ray dropped his game at the end of a three-mile walk through brush and timber, he felt sure that his beaver weighed a hundred pounds.
Ganawa quickly skinned the smallest beaver, cut up the best of the meat and put it in the kettle. Then he scalded the black tail over the fire, and the skin blistered and came off easily. He cut the tail into several pieces and added them to the meat in the kettle.
“My sons,” he spoke, “put a little salt[184]in the kettle and some of the wild onions you have gathered. And when the meat is almost done, you must add a little of the wild rice I have in my pack. To-night we shall make a big feast. We shall have beaver meat and beaver-tail soup. Some white hunters say they do not care much for beaver meat, but all are very fond of beaver-tail soup. I have cut up the meat of a young beaver and you will find it very good.”
The lads had grown accustomed by this time to a diet of fish and meat, but they were glad of any change and both of them said that beaver meat and beaver-tail soup were the best foods they had ever eaten. The meat was dark and tasted much like the dark meat of a chicken.
The tail of a beaver does not consist of muscle, but of a peculiar white, fatty, and gristly texture. When boiled it looks and tastes like very young fat pork, and the boys left none of it in the kettle. It is this part of the beaver which furnishes the beaver-tail soup, highly praised in many old journals[185]but never described in detail. The writer of this story has cooked beaver meat and beaver-tail soup and can testify to the fact that both are good.
If any of my readers ever have a chance to make a beaver stew, or beaver-tail soup, I would advise that they boil the meat with a liberal pinch of “mixed spices”—the kind one buys in paper boxes. Beaver-tail soup with wild rice thus properly seasoned is much too good for a king, but just the food for a tired and hungry camper.
Bruce and Ray could not get enough of the soup and when the feast was over there was nothing left but some bones and scraps for Tawny. It had been a real feast, and when the few dishes were washed, the lads built a camp-fire and asked Ganawa to tell them of his own boyhood of long ago.[186]