Fig. 354.—Small snowshoe.
The shoes are not quite the same size, as the right has 35, 35, and 28 strands, and the left 33, 33, and 25, in each set respectively. There is no regular rule about the number of strands in any part of the netting, the object being simply to make the meshes always about the same size. The foot netting is made of stout and very white thong from the bearded seal. These shoes have no strings.
No. 89914 [1738] is a pair of rather small shoes from Utkiavwĭñ, one of which is shown in Fig. 354. They are rights and lefts, and are 42 inches long by 10 broad. The frame is wholly of oak, and differs from the type only in having no extra hind bar, and having the heel and toe bars about equal in length. The points are fastened together with a treenail, as well as with a whalebone stitch. The heel-nettings are put on with perfect regularity, as on the pair last described, but the toe-nettings, though they start in the usual way, do not follow any regular rule of sucession, the rounds being put on sometimes inside and sometimes outside of the preceding, till the whole space is filled. The foot-nettings are somewhat clumsily made, especially on the right shoe, which appears to have been broken in several places, and “cobbled” by an unskillful workman. There are only five transverse strands which are double on the left shoe, and the longitudinal strands are not whipped to these, but interwoven, and each pair twisted together between the transverse strands. There is no wattling back of the toe hole, and one pair of longitudinal strands at the side of the latter is not doubled on the left shoe. The strings are put on as on the type except that the ends are knotted instead of being spliced. This pair of shoes was used by the writer on many short excursions around the station during the winters of 1881-’82 and 1882-’83. They were old when purchased.
I had but one opportunity of seeing the process of making the frames of the snowshoes. Ilûbw’ga, the “inland” native frequently mentioned, a particularly skillful workman, undertook to make a pair of snowshoes for Lieut. Ray at our quarters, but did not succeed in finishing them, as the ash lumber which we brought from San Francisco proved too brittle for the purpose. Having a long piece of wood, he “got out” the whole rim in one piece. Ordinarily the splice at the toe must be made, at least temporarily, before the frame can be bent into shape. He softened up the wood by wrapping it in rags wet with hot water. Some of the other natives, however, recommended that the wood should be immersed in the salt water for a day or two, from which I infer that this is a common practice. After slowly bending the toe, with great care, nearly into shape, he inserted into the bend a flat block of wood of the proper shape for the toe and lashed the frame to this. A pointed block was also used to give the proper shape to the heel; the bars being inserted in the mortises before the ends were brought together. The temporary lashings are kept on till the wood dries into shape. The toes are turned up by tying the shoes together, sole to sole, and inserting a transverse stick between the tips of the toes.
The use of finely finished snowshoes of this pattern is of comparatively recent date at Point Barrow. Dr. Simpson[459] is explicit concerning the use of snowshoes in his time (1853-’55). He says: “Snowshoes are so seldom used in the north where the drifted snow presents a hard frozen surface to walk upon, that certainly not half a dozen pairs were in existence at Point Barrow at the time of our arrival, and those were of an inferior sort.” I have already mentioned the universal employment of these snowshoes at the present day, so that the custom must have arisen in the last thirty years. The pattern of shoe now used is identical with those of the Tinné or Athabascan Indians (as is plainly shown by the National Museum collections), and I am inclined to believe that the Point Barrow natives have learned to use them from the “Nunatañmiun,” from whom, indeed, they purchase ready-made snowshoes at the present day, as we ourselves observed. The “Nunatañmiun,” or the closely related people of the Kuwûk River, are known to have intimate trading relations with the Indians, and even in Simpson’s time[460] used the Indian shoe, sometimes at least. The fact that in recent times families of the “Nunatañmiun” have established the habit of spending the winter with the people of Point Barrow and associating with them in the winter deer-hunt, would explain how the latter came to recognize the superior excellence of the Indian shoe.
This is more likely than that they learned to use them from the eastern natives, whom they only meet for a short time in summer, though the latter used the Indian style of snowshoes at least as early as 1826. Franklin[461] speaks of seeing, at Demarcation Point, a pair of snowshoes netted with cords of deerskin and shaped like those of the Indians of the Mackenzie.
Most of the other Eskimo of Alaska, who need to use snowshoes at all, use a style of shoe very much less efficient and more roughly made, the rim being of heavy, rather crooked pieces of willow or alder. Simpson’s description will apply very well to this form, which is used even as far north as Icy Cape, whence Mr. Nelson brought home a pair. It also appears to be the prevailing, if not the only, form on the Siberian coast and St. Lawrence Island, judging from Nordinskiöld’s figure[462] and Mr. Nelson’s collections.
Simpson says:[463] “The most common one is two pieces of alder, about two feet and a half long, curved towards each other at the ends, where they are bound together, and kept apart in the middle by two crosspieces, each end of which is held in a mortise. Between the crosspieces is stretched a stout thong, lengthwise and across, for the foot to rest upon, with another which first forms a loop to allow the toes to pass beneath; this is carried round the back of the ankle to the opposite side of the foot, so as to sling the snowshoe under the joint of the great toe.”