Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat Page B

that rested on the rock wall and on the shaft of the paddle. Over this he stretched a number of fresh caribou hides, with the fur side down. He arranged the skins in such a way that they sloped out toward the edge of the wall, so they would carry off the rain and melting snow.
    His next task was to gather sphagnum moss and chink the many gaps in the wall. Then he hauled several loads of moss through the door and spread the spongy stuff on the floor as a kind of mattress. The house was done.
    It did not look like much—in fact, from the outside it looked like another pile of rocks in a rocky world. But inside it was fairly snug and warm, and when Jamie hung a piece of deer hide over the doorway the little stone igloo was almost comfortable, even though there was no room to stretch out or stand up.
    Meanwhile, Awasin had been hard at work trying to improvise new moccasins. Though he had often seen his mother and other Cree women making footgear, he had never before tried his hand at it.
    He went at the job doggedly, determined to do well. The first task was to prepare the hide, and this he did by choosing three of the best deerskins and sinking them in a tundra pool, where he left them for two days. At the end of this time the hair had loosened and he was able to scrape it off with the blade of his knife. Next he cut out theleg sections of the hides, and the piece of skin which covers the caribou’s forehead. These pieces were yellow, almost transparent when wet, and looked rather like parchment.
    Awasin knew that the skin should be tanned, but this was a long and difficult business and he did not feel confident of success, so he decided simply to smoke the hides instead. He hung the skins over a fire smothered with wet moss, and every now and then he moistened the hides with water. After several hours the skins had turned to a dirty brown color, and Awasin judged they were ready to use.
    Cutting the moccasins was easy. He took one of his own tattered moose-hide moccasins, slit the seams, and laid it out flat on the deer hide as a pattern. Some careful work with the knife gave him the rough material, cut out to shape. The Cree moccasin is designed in such a way that almost the whole thing can be cut from a single piece of hide. Then the seams are sewn together. It is not really difficult—with needles and thread. Awasin had neither, but like all those who live in the far north, he planned to make what he did not have.
    He searched through the deer bones near camp until he found the shoulder blade of a young deer that had been killed by Denikazi’s hunters. The flat center section was only about an eighth of an inch thick, and from this section Awasin chopped out a piece about as big as a playing card—and almost as thin. Then, using his knife as a splitting tool, and a stone as a hammer, he carefully sliced the bone into a number of slivers. They were the size of toothpicks. Sharp at one end, they were flexible enough to bebent double without breaking. But they had no holes for the thread.
    Awasin considered the problem for a while, and then he got the fishhook. Using the sharp point, he scraped away at the thick ends of his needles until he had made small holes right through the bone. He ruined half his needle supply in the process, but he ended up with five bone needles that—despite their thickness—looked serviceable.
    The thread problem was simpler. Taking down one of the hanks of sinew, Awasin soaked this bone-hard strip in warm water for a few minutes until it became as soft and pliable as silk. Then, with his knife, he split off single threads, each about three feet long.
    Now he was ready for work upon the moccasins. First using the fishhook to make the holes, he began sewing up the seams. At first his stitches were clumsy and too far apart, but Awasin was clever with his hands and soon he did a neater job.
    He had used the leg hide of the caribou for the moccasins, since this is tougher and