a 
XXII. MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 
“TI wonder if the sap is stirring yet, 
If wintry birds are dreaming of a maie, 
Lf frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun 
And crocus fires are kindling one by one: 
Sing, robin, sing; 
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring” 
—Christina C. Rossetti (The First Spring Day). 
When our forefathers came to America, they found one 
branch of the world’s sugar industry indigenous here. The 
making of both syrup and sugar from the sap of the maple 
tree had been practiced from time immemorial by the Indians. 
Maple sugar was the commonest delicacy in their rather plain 
and unattractive bill of fare. It appealed to the white man’s 
palate, and, after furs and corn, it became one of the common- 
est articles of barter and of commerce. It was especially 
important to the early white traders along the St. Lawrence 
river, for that stream traverses the heart of the maple sugar 
region. The white man learned to make it, and soon it was 
used in all the households of the pioneers. In the north- 
eastern part of the United States and in adjacent portions of 
Canada, maple sugar was for several generations the only 
sugar to be had. 
The aboriginal sugar-maker cut a hole through the bark of 
the maple tree, and collected the sweet sap that flowed there- 
from in vessels made of bark. Then he separated the water 
from the sugar, in part by freezing (removing the cakes of ice 
that formed on the surface of the vessel), and in part by 
evaporation. His methods were crude, and his product was 
dark colored and dirty; but it was sweet and wholesome. 
The dirt it contained was mostly clean dirt—bits of bark and 
chips and insects that fell into the sap, extracts from the bark 
containers, and decomposition products of the sugar itself. 
168 
