If you are in the woods and spot a big fire, make careful note of the direction the smoke is blowing and then if it is headed your way set a course that will take you above or below the fire, whichever is shortest. To run ahead of a forest fire is usually a losing game, for when it really gets up to full power it travels at terrible speed, and as its front widens you don’t have time to get out of its path.
Back of my cabin in an open sandy place where the sun strikes down all day, I have built myself a sundial, for it is interesting to watch a shadow mark off the hours, although, as I have said before, we don’t live by hours up here. Instead of making a small sundial, I got a clean, straight tamarack about twelve feet long and prepared a location by leveling the ground carefully. That is important if you want accurate time. The pole was set in a hole nearly three feet deep and the earth filled in loosely so that I could swing it down for final adjustment to the proper position. Once that was done I waited until darkness fell and then slanted the pole to the north until, when I sighted along it, the North Star was exactly in line. Then I tamped the earth firmly around the base and made a final check by sighting along the pole to make sure it had not shifted position.
The angle of sight from where you stand to the North Star corresponds to the latitude of your location, so you can also put up a sundial by finding your latitude and setting the pole at that angle. Just for example, if you live at forty-five degrees north the pointer would be set at an angle of forty-five degrees, but don’t forget that in addition to placing it at the proper angle, it must always point North.
The next step is to lay out the hour marks on a circle around the pointer. The simplest method is to drop a plumb bob from the tip of the pointer and drive a stake directly beneath it. If the pole is properly set the shadow of the pole should cover the stake at twelve o’clock, noon. Then with a watch you can mark off each hour by driving a stake in the center of the shadow for every hour that has sunlight enough to cast a shadow.
What got me started making a sundial was one of the signs the Chief left for us when he went on a trip one day. When Hank and I went over to see him we found a little sapling stuck in the ground pointing east, which meant that he had gone across the lake. Right beside it he had marked a rough circle like a clockface and stuck a twig in pointing out from six o’clock. That was his way of telling us the time he left. There was a twig leaning toward the four o’clock mark, so we knew he expected to be back about that time. And it wasn’t more than half an hour after that we saw him coming across the lake.
The Chief can’t write, but his signs tell a lot. If he is away and wants us to wait for him he will put up little twigs in the shape of a tepee, meaning to make use of his cabin. If he wants to tell us that he has gone for two days he will draw a circle to represent the sun and stick two twigs in the middle, with another outside leaning in the direction he went. If for some reason he didn’t want us to follow him he would put two crossed sticks in front of the one showing direction.
Once he left a sign that took me a while to figure out. It was two little logs with a lot of twigs between and a sapling slanting over them. Finally it came to me, for the sapling was just where a pot would be over a fire, which was indicated by the twigs between the logs. Then beside it was the circle with the six o’clock hour marked with a twig showing he would be back about six o’clock. I made a good guess that he meant me to get a fire going in the cabin stove for supper. And sure enough he came back with a fine catch of trout.
It didn’t take me long to find out what the Chief had in mind, for he loves the kind of trout chowder I make and he had even saved a few potatoes that he had brought in on his last trip to the settlement. I like my chowder without any bones, so I get rid of all skin and bones, and start by frying several thick slices of salt pork with chopped onions until they are well browned. This is put in the pot with the fish and raw potatoes cut in chunks with just enough water to cover. Then I add a generous amount of evaporated milk, which to my mind is even better than fresh milk for a chowder and many other kinds of cooking. When the chowder is done after cooking slowly for about an hour it is golden brown and Hank and the Chief love the flavor of the fried pork and browned onion.
Harvest of the Wilderness
Now COMES the most favorable time of the year for traveling in the north country. The mosquitoes, black flies, and midges are about gone and the weather tends to be clear and settled, with fine warm days and cooling nights. What is more, this is the harvest season.
The berries are ripe and ready to pick, but you have to know the right places. Besides the big frosty blueberries, there are the low-bush or ground cranberry which hides its small pink and white face deep in the moss, as well as the high-bush kind that grows in or near the swamps. In the sunny clearings and sometimes in shady places where you would never think to look, the juicy blackberries hang on their canes, and among the slash and blowdowns are raspberries bigger and sweeter than any ever grown by man. Until you have lived in the woods a while you have no idea how much fine food nature provides if you know where to find it. Take a ground cranberry, for example. It is as hard to spot as a woodcock in October, unless you learn where the moss grows in places the little fellow likes.
I have had to learn some of my woodcraft the hard way, but what you learn that way you seldom forget. One thing I had to find out from experience is that when you travel in the woods you have to plan ahead with care, taking everything you need in the way of equipment and food, for often there is no turning back, no one to borrow from.
I used to think that going light and roughing it was the thing to do. That is all right if conditions require it, but I find that the good woodsman is a man who takes what he needs to live comfortably, making use of what comes to hand wherever he is. Although I like a balsam bed in the woods, if a fellow wants to carry an air mattress that is all right with me. No need to be uncomfortable just because you are camping. And just in case you think air mattresses are new fangled contraptions, dig back into history and you will find more than 1600 years ago Roman soldiers slept on bags which were filled with air from a bellows. I believe the Emperor Heliogabalus worked out the idea.
As I said, I like a balsam bed in the woods, but in my bunk at the cabin I have the best mattress I could buy. Funny how it came to Cache Lake, too. When I decided to order it I wondered how I would pack it in from the settlement, for if there is a mean and ornery thing to carry, a mattress takes the grand prize. But I didn’t have to tote the thing in after all, for my friend the pilot of the lumber company’s patrol plane, said he would bring it in on one of his trips.
Sure enough, one day I heard him over the lake and by the way the plane was weaving about I knew something was wrong, so I got in the canoe and made ready to give a hand. When he finally came lurching down I couldn’t make out what was going on, but when he landed I could see what the trouble was. It seems my friend rolled the mattress up as tight as he could and tied it with a cord so it would fit into the little cabin. Everything went well until about halfway in to the lake the cord broke and the mattress came to life with a wild bound and just about filled the cabin, with the pilot crouching under it. He was still there, peering out under one edge, when he landed and crawled out. He said he would as leave take ten wildcats for a sight-seeing trip as to keep company in the air with a spring mattress again.
A while back I was talking about my cooking outfit, which has all anyone needs. Add to that a tent, a good oiled tarpaulin, which has many uses in addition to its main purpose as a ground cloth, an axe, which is more important than any other piece of equipment, two heavy all-wool blankets, fishing gear, a good pocketknife as well as a sheath knife, a small file, needles and linen thread for making repairs, a simple medical kit, a few candles, and plenty of matches in waterproof containers or set in paraffin as I described before. With this outfit packed in a large packsack and duffel bag, and a tump line for extra carrying, you can take care of yourself in any kind of summer or fall weather.
Another mistake to watch out for is making up your provision list with the thought that you can get part of your food from the country. Right now, when berries are plentiful and the fishing is good you might figure that you could cut down on some of the staple rations, but I have been on a trip in August through country where there wasn’t a blueberry for a hundred miles and the fishing for one reason or another was poor. Many a man has run out of rations because he figured he would get meat on the way.
Seeing that there is no provision store around the corner once you get into the woods, the wise thing is to plan on taking all the food you need for the full time of your trip. Better to end your journey with a few pounds of food than to work the last day on an empty stomach.
I am going to give you here the ration list that the Chief and I worked out after many years of experience. The amounts given are for one man for one week.
RATION LIST
Flour 4 lbs.
Bacon 5 lbs.
Cheese 2 lbs.
Rice 1¼ lbs.
Lard ½ lb.
Oatmeal 1 lb.
Sugar 1½ lbs.
Tea ¼ lb.
Bar chocolate ½ lb.
Coffee ½ lb.
Beans (dried) 1½ lbs.
or small cans of baked beans 5 cans
Butter (in can) ½ lb.
Dried fruit (prunes, apricots,
peaches, pears, or raisins) 1½ lbs.
Onions 1 lb.
Dried soups 3 oz.
Dried milk 12 oz.
or evaporated 2 cans
Potatoes (fresh) 5 lbs.
or dehydrated 4 oz.
Baking powder 4 oz.
Salt 3 oz.
Pepper ¼ oz.
A few words about these provisions. Part of the amount given for flour can be corn meal. If you are starting out from a place where there is a store that keeps bread, it is nice to take along several loaves to carry you two or three days, but bread doesn’t keep well in woods traveling and don’t cut down the flour ration because you carry a few loaves of bread.
As for bacon, make sure that you get a lean strip. By the time you fry up fat bacon there is not much left but grease. We include lard on our list because it is a fine fat, although the Chief and I usually leave it out and use bacon fat in its place. It is tastier, I think. If you are on a canoe trip where the portages are short and the weight of your outfit is not so important, you might want to cut down the amount of bacon by taking two cans of good corned beef, but always remember that canned goods have a surprising way of gaining weight on a two-mile portage. Some folks do not care about cheese in the woods and I will agree it does not keep too well in hot weather. But it is nourishing food for hard work though not so good for a loafing diet. Some old woodsmen might snort at including chocolate in a ration list, but all the experienced explorers know its great value as a food. It belongs in the meat part of your diet. Many a man has been saved from hunger by carrying a bar of sweet chocolate in his pack when he went out on what he thought was a short tramp.
I would give up a lot of things before I left my rice ration behind, for rice is a democratic sort of food that mixes just as well with sugar and dried fruits as it does in a stew. I like it best hot with milk and maple sugar.
Coffee is included on our list, although most men in the north find that tea makes a much better drink for woods living. Dried soups are wonderful things to have on the trail. They are light, very nourishing, and can be added to stews, mixed with rice, or taken just as warm drinks. You will have to decide for yourself whether you will take dried milk, which is the lightest, or cans of the evaporated kind, which means that you are toting quite a lot of water. Some like condensed milk, but as it is very sweet it does not fit into general cooking.
My weakness is butter and I will give up other luxuries to have it with me on a trip. The only practical kind comes in cans and it keeps well. Beans are a foundation ration and the quantity on our list represents a surprising amount of energy. If the traveling is easy and you do not mind carrying the extra weight, canned beans are convenient. There is not much manpower in an onion, but many a stew has been made the tastier for having an onion chopped up in it. It is my theory that food that pleases a man’s appetite does him a lot more good than victuals that do not appeal to him.
The prepared mixes for hot biscuits and dumplings, corn muffins, griddle cakes, gingerbread, and other things are all fine to take along. Some woodsmen do not bother with potatoes, but if we can get them we always have them in our grub bag for part of the trip at least. Sugar is important because of its value in giving energy, and the craving for sweets in the woods, especially when you are living on the heavier foods, is surprising. Some travelers will tell you that part of your sweetening ration should be saccharin tablets because they are very light and have a powerful sweetening effect. However, a doctor friend of mine tells me that saccharin doesn’t take the place of the sugar the body needs and that steady use of saccharin is bad.
Our provision list totals up to about thirty pounds of working rations. By that I mean rations chosen to keep us fit for steady paddling day in and day out, heavy packing on the portages or cross country tramping. You may have ideas of your own, and almost every woodsman I ever knew had some secret luxury that he liked to tuck in one corner of his food bag. As for me if I can get my hands on a chocolate cake I will lug it with the greatest care for about two days, counting on the time when I can get my teeth into it, and then when I can’t resist any longer I have myself a feast.
Every woodsman has his own ideas about tents and all types have their good points. To my way of thinking it is pretty much a matter of what kind of country you are in, the season of the year, and how long you are going to be out. If it is a “short and light” trip, a small tent of “balloon silk,” which is really Egyptian cotton duck, will serve you well. But for a permanent camp give me a good wall tent of eight or ten-ounce duck with a fly to carry off the rain or keep it cool, for the air moving between the roof of the tent and the fly has a lot to do with the temperature inside. In addition I favor a vent or window in a tent for circulation. It can be very uncomfortable on a warm night when a tent has to be closed up to keep out insects.
I rely on a wall tent for general year-round use, for it provides more headroom, has more usable space, and can be made comfortable in any weather. As a matter of fact, I spent most of a winter in a wall tent with a small stove to keep me warm and it was very snug, I can tell you, even when it was thirty-five below zero.
The only difference between my summer and winter tents was that for winter living I used a double wall, a tent within a tent, one separated from the other by an air space of two inches. The inner tent was held in place by canvas loops fastened to the outside tent at the various places where it would be supported in the ordinary way of setting it up. The air space between the two tents is of great importance in keeping out the cold, and I have since learned that when a dead air space is used for insulation two inches is just right. If it is any more or any less you begin to lose the insulating value of the air trapped between the two walls.
To gain more headroom for my winter tent I built a foundation of logs about three feet high, chinked it with moss, and laid a double floor of saplings with four inches of sphagnum moss between, keeping the double floors separated by three logs so that the moss would not pack down and lose its insulating value. Then I set the double tent on top and tacked the lower edges to the logs with light saplings to keep out the wind and ban
ked it with pine needles and boughs. It was supported by a ridge pole set on shears which are easily adjusted and hold well in almost any weather. Frost that forms on the inside of a warm tent in winter sifts down on you and can be a miserable thing, but in a double-walled tent it falls down between the walls.
The double-walled shelter is not new in the north woods, for some of the Indians built their tepees of hides, covered the shelter with a thick layer of moss and then laid on a second covering of hides or bark. Hides were used not only because they made a strong, tough covering, but also because the hair that was left on gave extra insulation. The secret of this insulation was not only the thickness of the hair, but the fact that each individual hair of the deer is hollow, thus providing added insulation in the form of tiny dead air spaces. The hair of the caribou is said to be the warmest of all.
These tepees had floors laid deep with balsam boughs and hides laid around the outer edges to keep out drafts as much as possible. The door was covered with a tightly stretched skin held in place by pegs. Some Indians still use them although many tepees you see are made of canvas and some Indians have even turned to the white man’s tent.
Another tent that I like very well is one shaped like a lean-to. This type is not so practical during the fly season, but fine in the fall. You can lift the front, support it on a couple of poles and have a roof while you are cooking in the open. On a cold evening you can get a lot of warmth by building your campfire in front of the lean-to, for the slanting roof reflects the heat down.
Cache Lake Country Page 15
