display of excitement. “Stop him!” I cried. “Stop him!”
Of course there was no way we could stop him. As I watched him lope nearer to the water’s edge, I saw the hopes of a meat supply for the next few days disappear with his coming swim.
But just as he neared the water, he stumbled and fell, no longer able to continue. The dogs were fast upon him, and just as fast upon the dogs was LaMeche. He seemed to be everywhere, dragging off animals and pushing them aside, eventually striking a fatal blow to the suffering moose with a blunt club.
Boys ran to help him and claimed their dogs and pulled them aside. With great excitement the people crowded around, exclaiming over the meat that nearly had fallen right into our cooking pots.
The moose was skinned and dressed and portions of meat were handed out to hungry families. I added some chunks of meat to my own cooking pot and sniffed deeply as the fragrance began to waft upward from two dozen fires.
The remainder of the meat was tied and hoisted high in a tree to protect it for the next day’s meal.
I remembered Wynn’s sled dogs. I still had not taken them any food except for a small amount of cornmeal mush. I picked up scraps and bones now, and hurried off to feed them while my stew cooked.
We were all fed to satisfaction that night. By now we were dry, our stomachs were full, and we were fairly comfortable. The families had constructed crude shelters of pine boughs and skins. Some of them even had bits of canvas to stretch across small areas.
I had been too busy to prepare a shelter, but I wasn’t concerned. I would sleep by the fire again if need be. At least I was dry now, and I had a blanket to keep me warm.
I had just washed my dishes in the lake water and set them out to dry when I heard a strange sound. I looked skyward. It had sounded like distant thunder.
To the west, storm clouds had gathered. The storm was moving our way and looked dark and ominous. I pushed back my wayward hair and studied the sky.
“I know we need rain, Lord,” I whispered, “but now doesn’t seem like a good time.”
I looked around me at the makeshift dwellings. Few of them would keep out water.
I was still standing, wondering what to do, when LaMeche joined me.
“Rain now come,” he commented, and I nodded.
“Where you sleep?” he asked, and I broke from my deep thoughts and pointed toward the fire.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “not tonight.”
He looked around deep in thought. When his eyes rested on the wagons, he stopped and studied them.
“What is under canvas?” he asked me.
I looked at him with wide eyes and open mouth. I had not even stopped to think about what was under that canvas.
“Supplies,” I said. “Blankets, clothes, dishes and pots. Lots of things we need! There are impractical things we cannot use but—”
“Can we take canvas?” he interrupted.
I was surprised that the trader was more interested in the canvas than the contents of the crates.
“Yes,” I nodded vigorously. “Take it.”
He was gone, rounding up three boys as he went. Soon I saw them throwing ropes off the wagon and freeing the canvas covering it. Two wagons were then lined up side by side about eight or nine feet apart and the canvas was stretched from the one to the other, forming a shelter of sorts. Then with axes in hand, the four headed for the pines.
I turned back to replenish the fire and check on my “family” members. The wind was up now, bringing with it the smell of rain. Thunder rumbled across the heavens and flashes of lightning streaked the sky. I hastened to get everything I could under some kind of cover.
Soon LaMeche was at my side again. With him came sprinkles of rain.
“It is ready,” he stated, motioning toward the wagons.
A shelter had been made—the three sides protected by pine branches and the top sealed off by the canvas. It looked wonderful.
“Good!” I exclaimed. “Help me get everyone under.”
“It is for
Of course there was no way we could stop him. As I watched him lope nearer to the water’s edge, I saw the hopes of a meat supply for the next few days disappear with his coming swim.
But just as he neared the water, he stumbled and fell, no longer able to continue. The dogs were fast upon him, and just as fast upon the dogs was LaMeche. He seemed to be everywhere, dragging off animals and pushing them aside, eventually striking a fatal blow to the suffering moose with a blunt club.
Boys ran to help him and claimed their dogs and pulled them aside. With great excitement the people crowded around, exclaiming over the meat that nearly had fallen right into our cooking pots.
The moose was skinned and dressed and portions of meat were handed out to hungry families. I added some chunks of meat to my own cooking pot and sniffed deeply as the fragrance began to waft upward from two dozen fires.
The remainder of the meat was tied and hoisted high in a tree to protect it for the next day’s meal.
I remembered Wynn’s sled dogs. I still had not taken them any food except for a small amount of cornmeal mush. I picked up scraps and bones now, and hurried off to feed them while my stew cooked.
We were all fed to satisfaction that night. By now we were dry, our stomachs were full, and we were fairly comfortable. The families had constructed crude shelters of pine boughs and skins. Some of them even had bits of canvas to stretch across small areas.
I had been too busy to prepare a shelter, but I wasn’t concerned. I would sleep by the fire again if need be. At least I was dry now, and I had a blanket to keep me warm.
I had just washed my dishes in the lake water and set them out to dry when I heard a strange sound. I looked skyward. It had sounded like distant thunder.
To the west, storm clouds had gathered. The storm was moving our way and looked dark and ominous. I pushed back my wayward hair and studied the sky.
“I know we need rain, Lord,” I whispered, “but now doesn’t seem like a good time.”
I looked around me at the makeshift dwellings. Few of them would keep out water.
I was still standing, wondering what to do, when LaMeche joined me.
“Rain now come,” he commented, and I nodded.
“Where you sleep?” he asked, and I broke from my deep thoughts and pointed toward the fire.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “not tonight.”
He looked around deep in thought. When his eyes rested on the wagons, he stopped and studied them.
“What is under canvas?” he asked me.
I looked at him with wide eyes and open mouth. I had not even stopped to think about what was under that canvas.
“Supplies,” I said. “Blankets, clothes, dishes and pots. Lots of things we need! There are impractical things we cannot use but—”
“Can we take canvas?” he interrupted.
I was surprised that the trader was more interested in the canvas than the contents of the crates.
“Yes,” I nodded vigorously. “Take it.”
He was gone, rounding up three boys as he went. Soon I saw them throwing ropes off the wagon and freeing the canvas covering it. Two wagons were then lined up side by side about eight or nine feet apart and the canvas was stretched from the one to the other, forming a shelter of sorts. Then with axes in hand, the four headed for the pines.
I turned back to replenish the fire and check on my “family” members. The wind was up now, bringing with it the smell of rain. Thunder rumbled across the heavens and flashes of lightning streaked the sky. I hastened to get everything I could under some kind of cover.
Soon LaMeche was at my side again. With him came sprinkles of rain.
“It is ready,” he stated, motioning toward the wagons.
A shelter had been made—the three sides protected by pine branches and the top sealed off by the canvas. It looked wonderful.
“Good!” I exclaimed. “Help me get everyone under.”
“It is for
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