88 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 



itself. The woman is the country drudge. Her work is 

 never finished. She chops the firewood, dries the fish and 

 meat, snares rabbits, and carries her catch into the post 

 on her back ; scrapes and tans the moose and caribou 

 hides, from the latter of which she afterwards makes ba- 

 biclic (Northland string) by cutting it into strips an 

 eighth of an inch wide ; laces the snow-shoes, makes and 

 embroiders with beads the mittens, moccasins, and leg- 

 gings ; yields the lion's share of the scanty larder to her 

 husband when he is at home luxuriating in smoke and 

 sleep, and, when he is away, gives her children her tiny prct 

 (allowance) of fish and goes hungry without a murmur. 



This is the woman of the post. She of the woods, the 

 full-blooded squaw, and there are few Indians that ever 

 take up a permanent abode in the settlement, does all 

 this and more. In addition to chopping the firewood, she 

 seeks and hauls it ; not only dries, but catches the fish ; 

 goes after and quarters and brings in the game her master 

 has killed ; breaks camp, and pitches it again where the 

 husband, who has gone on ahead with no load but his gun 

 and no thought except for the hunt, and whose trail she 

 has followed, indicates by sticking up brush in the snow. 

 When there is plenty she makes her meal on that which 

 her lord leaves, and when there is little she starves, along 

 with her children and the dogs. 



When in her periodical state she dare not cross the 

 snow-shoe tracks of the men, nor even follow in their steps. 

 She must make her own path. And when she gives birth 

 to her child it is in a lodge by herself, unattended and 

 apart from the others. If at the time she is with a travel- 

 ling band she steps aside to pitch her lodge, and next 

 morning mayhap, with the new-born babe added to her 

 other burdens, she goes on after the Indians that have not 

 tarried. 



