6 
FOREST AND STREAM 
of wool. The better the grade the warmer 
the blanket. You can regulate the weight 
or the quantity by the circumstances of 
season or latitude. 
As to choice between bed covering in 
the ordinary civilized fashion and the 
sleeping bag there is a multitude of argu¬ 
ment. Let it rage. I am not taking sides, 
but if pressed to chrose, 1 
would vote for the s.eeping 
bag—if the sleeping bag is 
properly made. 
In summer one does not 
need it, but when the cold 
season comes, the snugness 
with which one can tuck 
himself away—no drafts, no 
slipping off of blankets, and 
the retention of all the body 
heat—these are appealing 
arguments. 
Everybody knows about 
army blankets, Hudson Bay 
blankets, and the like, but 
what did people do before 
any of these were invented, 
and what do they do where 
none are obtainable? 
Fur and skins are the sub¬ 
stitute, although this is rath¬ 
er putting the case back¬ 
wards, for as fingers were 
made before forks, so blank¬ 
ets fall into the chronology 
of the fork. 
The northern Indian of 
today, if he is industrious, 
and is within trading dis¬ 
tance of some fur post, buys 
blankets for himself and 
family. They are cheaper, 
measured in the terms of la¬ 
bor, and suit their purpose 
admirably. But Mrs. In¬ 
dian, if she can spare the 
time and collect the raw ma¬ 
terial, is capable of making 
a blanket that beats any 
wool covering for warmth, 
even if it does shed hair 
sometimes like a pet dog. 
I REFER to the rabbitskin 
blanket. This is nothing 
less than the hide of the 
varying hare, or snowshoe 
rabbit, cut into thongs, plait¬ 
ed together. It is the same on both sides, 
as light as a feather comparatively, and 
yet is one of the warmest coverings used 
in the north. 
The blanket illustrated in this article was 
made by a Tete Boule squaw in northern 
Quebec. Unfortunately for the present 
owner the Hudson Bay factor who kindly 
completed the preliminary negotiations told 
the Indian woman that he wanted the blank¬ 
et for himself, personally, thinking thus to 
insure a little better work. As the factor 
is only a few inches over five feet, the In¬ 
dian lady cut or wove her rabbit skins ac¬ 
cordingly, and rejoiced, no doubt, that the 
Manitou had sent her tribe such a saving 
sort of factor to fit. 
It may be remarked that these rabbitskin 
blankets are often sewed between two cloth 
pieces. This keeps them clean, preserves 
them, and also provides a warmer covering. 
As we drift farther north, skins become 
almost the only article of covering. The 
most beautiful sleeping robe, perhaps, is 
one made of lynx fur. These are expen¬ 
sive, as much as four hundred dollars being 
asked for one, and rare in the bargain. A 
wolf sleeping robe is also a luxury, costing 
about one hundred dollars. Both are worth 
having, if you can afford them. 
RABBITSKIN BLANKET. 
Woven of the Hide of the Snowshoe Rabbit-The Skins Are Cut Into 
Strips and Plaited Together—This Specimen Contains the Skins 
of Over One Hundred Rabbits—Made by the Tete Boule 
Indians, Northern Quebec. 
But after all the caribou is the mainstay 
of the far north. The pelt is put to an in¬ 
finite variety of uses, as is almost every 
other portion of the animal. When the 
caribou migration fails, the Indian starves, 
unless he and his family can get to the Post. 
It is said that the caribou, at least the 
barren land variety, is absolutely imper¬ 
vious to cold. The hair on his body has 
been described as tubular, containing and 
holding more air than that of any other 
animal. I am not saying that this is true, 
but I do know that caribou skins are amaz¬ 
ingly warm. 
So it is only natural that they are used 
for sleeping bags universal¬ 
ly. Along the Atlantic coast, 
up in Labrador, and in fact 
wherever commerce extends 
between the tribes of salt 
and fresh water, an Eskimo 
improvement on the caribou 
sleeping bag is made. 
T HE Eskimo takes the 
skin of the silvery, 
mottled Atlantic seal, 
makes an outer sleeping bag 
of this, and lines it with the 
softest of young caribou 
skin. There you have a 
sleeping bag! Nothing more 
comfortable, or cold-defy¬ 
ing can be devised. Too 
warm, of course, for sum¬ 
mer as we know it here, but 
blizzards may blow over the 
head of him who sleeps in 
the far north, and if he is 
inside one of these bags, he 
can laugh at old Boreas 
himself. 
The bag just described is 
illustrated here. This speci¬ 
men was made last winter 
by the Eskimos—women, 
needless to say—in northern 
Labrador. I suppose it is 
one of the very few ever 
seen in the United States. 
You can tell by looking at 
the picture that the bag al¬ 
most invites you to crawl 
inside and be warm. 
To put a fancy touch on 
the job, the Eskimo woman 
artist provided a face or 
head border of cross fox 
and rabbit fur. But here 
again regret of length be¬ 
tween white men and Es¬ 
kimos must be expressed. 
The bag is too short—that 
is, too short to enable the 
hood to be pulled down over the face. 
Its chief charm is the indescribable soft¬ 
ness of the lining. The young caribou skin, 
hair side out of course, is like down to the 
touch, and the exterior seal covering in¬ 
sures that no heat will escape, or cold or 
damp get in. A beauty, surely, and a trib¬ 
ute to the savage intelligence that first con¬ 
ceived the idea. No less is it a tribute to 
the patient Eskimo woman who, with a 
touch of artistry in her soul, made such a 
handsome specimen under disadvantages 
that would have appalled her civilized white 
sister. 
Bags of this sort are made of various 
weights, to suit circumstances. The bag 
described was built for the requirements of 
a milder climate than the far end of Lab¬ 
rador, and weighs only 15 pounds. In cal¬ 
orics, if the term is permissible, it matches 
up with more pounds than that, of wool. 
Still, it must not be inferred that the 
white man is helpless when it comes to pro- 
