Marooned in the Forest: The Story of a Primitive Fight for Life

by A. Hyatt Verrill

Long before the tub was quarter-full I commenced to make use of it, however, and after removing the fur from the skins, by means of wood-ashes and water, I had placed several hares’ hides in it. The result was all I expected, and while the thin, papery rabbit-skins had little strength, yet I was greatly elated at being able to remove the hair and make leather. My intention was to attempt tanning the deer’s hide as soon as I had accumulated enough liquor to cover it. Since I really had no need of a second fur robe, the bear’s skin serving all my purposes, I determined to try to remove the hair from the deer-skin.

To be sure, I had no second receptacle in which to soak the hide in wood-ashes and water, but by stringing up the hide by its four corners and filling it with water I softened it, and then, turning it over, I filled the hair side with the potash solution. I was in some doubt about the success of this experiment. I watched the skin with great care and frequently tested the hair. At last I was rewarded by finding that it came away readily. As soon as this happened I drained off the solution, scraped and rubbed off the hair, and placed the hide in the tanning liquor.

Each day I turned and soused it about and gradually it assumed the texture and appearance of leather. When at last it was drawn out, drained and worked and rubbed until dry, I possessed a fine, large piece of excellent buckskin which I knew would make splendid moccasins and strong, durable garments for use in the spring, when my furs would have to be discarded and I started on my journey to the settlements.

My success was so great that I longed to tan the bear-skin with the fur upon it, for it was a stiff, ungainly thing in its plain dried state, but I could not spare it while cold weather lasted, and I was compelled to continue using it as it was.

Now that I had the means of making leather, I was most anxious to secure hides to tan, and I made long trips into the woods, searching for larger game than hares and partridges. But either the larger creatures had migrated to some part of the country where there was less snow, or else they had seldom been in the vicinity, for, despite every effort, I found few signs of their presence and secured still less. Only twice did I see where deer had passed, and one raccoon, a fox, and two martens were the sole results of all my hunts, aside from the hares and partridges which I had little difficulty in obtaining.

At first I was greatly puzzled by this scarcity of big game, for I was in a wilderness where deer, moose, bear, and even caribou might be found, but after giving the matter due thought I came to the conclusion that it was, no doubt, due to the proximity of the deserted settlement I had found.

Ever since I had first devised my simple calendar I had kept account of the days, weeks, and months, and now I knew that the worst of the winter was past. With each day spring was approaching, and before many months were over I would be on my way toward civilization and my life in the wilderness would be a thing of the past.

With the thought I was filled with pride and happiness to think that I had overcome all obstacles which had arisen, that the long winter—which I had so greatly dreaded—was nearly over, that, after all, it had not been such a terrible experience, and that I had managed to live in comparative comfort and in plenty by my unaided efforts.

Strange as it may seem, I really felt rather sorry at the thought of leaving the cabin where I had lived so long, for I had become so accustomed to it that it seemed quite like home, and the woods about, the friendly jays, the twittering redpolls, and gray-clad chickadees, and even the dainty little wild mouse that crept forth from its hiding-place to share my meals, all seemed like old friends. Even without my calendar I should have known that the backbone of winter was broken, for each morning, when I stepped forth, the rays of sunlight were brighter, the sky held a softer, warmer hue, at midday the snow upon the cabin roof melted and trickled down in little streams that turned to great icicles at night, and the snow was covered with a crust each morning.

Slowly, imperceptibly, the height of the drifted snow about the hut decreased, the roof and walls rose above the surrounding surface of white, and stumps and bushes long hidden from view jutted upward through the snow.