THE MAKING OF THE MOCCASINS 209 



shrunk — and shrunk, antlers laid back against its neck, till there 

 is a vanishing speck on the horizon. The caribou has not been 

 standing at all. It has skimmed out of sight; and if there is any 

 clear ice across the marshes, it literally glides beyond vision from 

 very speed. But, provided no man-smell crosses its course, the 

 caribou is vulnerable in its habits. Morning and evening, it comes 

 back to the same watering-place ; and it returns to the same bed 

 for the night. If the trapper can conceal himself without crossing 

 its trail he easily obtains the fine filling for his snow-shoes. 



Moccasins must now be made. 



The trapper shears off the coarse hair with a sharp knife. The 

 hide is soaked; and a blunter blade tears away the remaining 

 hairs till the skin is white and clean. The flesh side is similarly 

 cleaned and the skin rubbed with all the soap and grease it will 

 absorb. A process of beating follows till the hide is limber. Care- 

 lessness at this stage makes buckskin soak up water like a sponge 

 and dry to a shapeless board. The skin must be stretched and 

 pulled till it will stretch no more. Frost helps the tanning, drying 

 all moisture out ; and the skin becomes as soft as down, without a 

 crease. The smoke of punk from a rotten tree gives the dark 

 yellow color to the hide and prevents hardening. The skin is 

 now ready for the needle ; and all odd bits are hoarded away. 



Equipped with moccasins and snow-shoes, the trapper is now 

 the winged messenger of the tragic fates to the forest world. 



