Nangotook had carried with him from camp a fish’s head carefully wrapped in a bit of birch bark. From the odor that drifted down to them, the boys knew he had also offered up some of his precious kinni-kinnik, tobacco mixed with bearberry leaves. Standing on the edge of the pit as the burnt offering was consumed, he gazed down at the copper rock and said a few words in his own language. Then, apparently satisfied that the required ceremonies had all been performed, he climbed down the ladder and prepared to begin work.
With the cedar shovel, he scraped off the rubbish that had accumulated on top of the rock. The pure copper showed plainly in a number of places, but it was evident that much work had been done on the mass, for all the knobs and projections had been hammered away, leaving the surface almost smooth. There seemed to be no place where any of the metal could be broken off, and the boys wondered how Nangotook would manage without steel tools. The Indian did not seem concerned, however. He examined the surface carefully, then ordered the lads to collect kindling and fuel. One side of the mass was composed of what appeared to be a thin sheet of dark rock. On top, just where the free copper and this dark rock came together, Nangotook made a fire, feeding it until it burned hot and clear. When he thought the surface had been heated sufficiently, he hastily scraped off the embers, and picking up a bucket of water he had placed within reach, dashed it quickly over the hot rock. A cloud of steam arose, there was a sharp, cracking report, and a thin piece of rock split off from the mass and fell into the puddle below. Seizing the second pail, which Ronald swung up to him, the Indian emptied it, then followed with the third. The cold water striking the hot surface had split off a part of the sheet of dark rock, but had not exposed enough of the copper to satisfy the Indian miner. Twice he repeated the process, making a hot fire, raking it off when the rock was thoroughly heated, and throwing cold water on it. After the third operation he gave a grunt of satisfaction. A ledge of copper lay exposed.
Raising one of the heavy stones, he struck it against the exposed metal and broke off a small corner. Pure copper is a comparatively soft metal, and heating and dashing with cold water anneals or softens it still more. With a heavy stone maul and, part of the time, with the aid of a wedge-shaped piece of hard rock used as a chisel, Nangotook hammered and split off pieces of the metal. The boys would gladly have helped him with his laborious mining, but he would not let them take part in the actual operations. They might carry water from the stream, gather fuel for the fire, find and hand him another stone sledge when he splintered the one he was using, but the actual processes of fire making, rock splitting and beating off copper, he would not permit them to share. Evidently by Ojibwa tradition, this peculiar mining had something of a sacred or mysterious character, and, to his mind, must be performed by one of his own medicine clan, duly appointed, initiated and trained for the work. The boys knew enough of Indian customs to understand this, so they did not urge their help upon him, but merely obeyed orders.
Such mining was slow work. The rock had to be heated and cooled several times, and the wielding of the stone maul was heavy labor, but at last Nangotook obtained copper enough for his immediate purpose. As they were returning down the cove, he told the boys that the pit where they had been working was the same he and his companions had taken metal from on his previous visit to the island, and the only one he knew of that had been worked in recent years. Jean had picked up a stone hammer with a groove around it, and he showed it to the Indian and asked him what the groove was for. Nangotook answered that a handle of some sort had been attached to the boulder. One of the party he had come to the island with had used such a hammer, he remembered, with a withe twisted about it to hold it by, but he had broken the stone and had thrown it aside. Nangotook thought this might be the very stone. It was not customary to use handles, he said, but he did not know why. Ronald asked how the copper mass came to be in the bottom of the pit. Had it been split off from the side, or was it found by digging down? Nangotook could not answer the question. The rock had been in the same place when he was there before, though then it was well covered with moss and earth, as if it had not been disturbed for a number of years. The tree trunk wedged behind it had been there too, but he and his companions had made the ladder.
No wisp of smoke, was to be seen where Ronald had noticed it the day before, but caribou were again discovered feeding on the ridge, near the spot where the lads had caught a glimpse of them.
The rest of the day and evening were spent in bow and arrow making. Laying a piece of copper on a hard, smooth stone, Nangotook hammered it out with another stone, heating the metal and plunging it in water from time to time, to keep it soft enough to be worked without cracking. When it was hammered out thin at the edge, he could cut it with a knife. After an arrowhead had been properly shaped, he went over it carefully with light, quick blows, to harden it as much as possible without getting it out of shape. Even at the best, copper heads were somewhat soft, but they did not split and warp like bone tips. Their main advantage over stone ones was that they could be made in much less time. Moreover flints suitable for arrowheads were difficult to find. Nangotook made a few sharp pointed bone tips in addition to the copper ones. The latter were attached to shafts of serviceberry wood in the same way as the flint and bone heads, and the shafts were straightened by being pulled through the hole in the piece of bone the Indian had used in his former arrow making. A gull, which Jean caught in a snare, baited with a piece of fish and set on the rocks, furnished feathers for the arrows. Hawk or eagle feathers would have been better, Nangotook insisted, but he had no way of obtaining either without ammunition or finished arrows. He also made another bow, using hare sinew well twisted and braided.
The weather next day was favorable for continuing the journey, but the lads were eager for a caribou hunt, not only for the sake of the sport, but because they sorely needed the nourishing meat. So departure was postponed. When the three reached the place where the animals had been seen the day before, they found distinct trails running in two directions. As they had guessed, the rocky ridge, where the reindeer lichen grew in abundance, was a favorite caribou resort. The hunters decided to separate, Nangotook following one trail and the boys the other. They had only two bows, so Ronald was without a weapon.
Along the top of the ridge, the lads followed the trail, going quietly and cautiously not to disturb the game, if it should happen to be near by. As Jean, who was in advance with the bow, rounded a thicket of leafless bushes, he came upon a place where fire, kindled perhaps by lightning striking a tree, had swept the ridge summit. Small birches, alders and low bushes had grown up among the fallen and standing skeletons of the evergreens, and, scratching about among the underbrush and fallen leaves, were a flock of birds. With a backward gesture, Jean motioned to Ronald, who was just behind him, to stand still. Creeping forward a little to get within range, he fitted an arrow to the string, drew it back and let fly. So swiftly and noiselessly did the arrow pierce the bird, that the rest of the flock did not take fright, and Jean had a chance to make a second shot. That time the whistling of the shaft alarmed the birds. Some of them ran off into the brush, while three rose with a loud whirring noise and a swift direct flight that carried them out of range in a moment. However, Jean had secured two plump, full grown, sharp-tailed grouse. The hunting expedition had begun well.
Not far beyond the spot where Jean killed the grouse, the boys came to a fresh caribou trail, made that morning they were sure, which crossed the older one. They followed the new track, going more cautiously than ever, for the beast might be just ahead. The trail led them down the side of the ridge, and across a bog covered with sphagnum moss stiff with the frost of the night before. There the animal had stopped several times to feed. After a somewhat winding course through the bog, it had climbed another hill beyond.
Jean had a feeling that, when he came to the top of that hill, he would find his game sunning itself in the open. So he bade Ronald keep back, and went very carefully. Through a leafless bush he caught sight of spreading antlers. Cautiously he crept around the bush. He could see the animal’s head and horns above a clump of tiny balsams, but the little trees hid the body. Moreover the range was too great for Jean’s skill and strength. Etienne might have sent a shaft from that distance with a strong enough pull to pierce his game, but Jean felt sure that he could not do so. He must go nearer. Fortunately the wind was blowing towards the hunter, and the beast was wholly unaware of the danger threatening. It lowered its head to graze, and Jean crept forward towards the clump of balsams. He reached them safely, without betraying himself by so much as a snapped twig or the rustle of a dry leaf. Crouching behind the little trees, he peeped around them.