William used his last ounce of energy to shake the snow off his collar before entering the tent. He hoped they were in the right place. Last summer he had visited the Adirondacks with his father, and they eventually stopped at this piece of land jutting out into Raquette Lake. They were staking out a spot for the Durant family compound. Charlie Bennett, his father’s guide, had hosted them in one of his crude cabins in the woods. However, William couldn’t find Bennett’s cabin in the blaze of snow that had been falling on them since dawn. It was now dusk and they didn’t have time to find Charlie or his cabin, they needed to get warm and stay warm. His feet were frozen and so were his hands. He had ventured as far as he dared to gather some wood so they could start a fire while his companion, Jerome Wood put up their tent on the frozen ground under a huge hemlock. The branches, laden with snow, offered protection from the relentless winds.
“Jerome, come help me make a fire before we freeze to death out here,” William said. Jerome had emptied out his pack to find an extra pair of wool socks but stopped his search to help his employer.
They went to work with the kindling and flint in front of their tent. Both men stamped their feet in unison, trying desperately to bring back some blood to their extremities.
“You think they’ll find us?” Jerome asked.
William nodded. “The fire will alert them we’re here.”
They had left the Durants’ North Creek home five days earlier, William insisting they travel to survey in the winter. It was the best time to do so, the only time when most of the trees were bare and he could get a good feel for the layout of the land.
They took horse and sled and worked their way to Blue Mountain where they stabled the horse at an inn.
After one night of rest on a soft warm bed, they crammed their packs with whatever provisions they could, and took off on skis for the eight-mile trek to Raquette Lake. The trip should only have taken a day but as the day progressed the weather turned on them. The small flakes of snow floating in the air aimlessly when they took off in the morning became a vengeful deluge as the day wore on. The blizzard was relentless. In the blinding snow it was hard to see one foot in front of them. They stopped and slept in the tent to gain their strength for a night before starting out again that morning. And now it was too dark to look. They were going to have to spend another night in a cold, dreary tent. To make matters worse, they were running out of food. Although they had plenty of ammunition and guns, and William was a good marksman, finding game was impossible in the current conditions.
“I’m hoping the weather clears by tomorrow so I can scout for some meat,” William said.
“For now, its beans and salt pork,” Jerome said. He went back into the tent to collect the food and implements needed to cook.
William took off one of his leather gloves to check for symptoms of frostbite. Although the gloves were lined with wool they did not provide enough warmth for this climate. His hands were a bright red, his fingers were numb, but so far had not turned white. He clenched his fists, winced in pain, and then splayed his hands over the fire. The heat prickled his skin. Satisfied he wasn’t going to lose any digits, he left the warmth of the fire to find more firewood.
They ate by the fire as the clouds and snow slowly gave way to a clear starry evening. It was too cold to admire; as soon as they finished cleaning up from dinner they retreated to the tent to bury themselves under wool blankets and listen to the icy winds whistling across the frozen lake.
“Allo there!”
William was relieving himself outside of the tent the next morning when he heard someone calling. He hurried about his business, dreading frostbite. It was early dawn, and the skies had cleared considerably, making it feel even colder than the day before.
He walked to the front of the tent to find Jerome with Charlie Bennett and a tall man with beady, penetrating eyes, a grayish beard and a nose the shape of an eagle’s beak. He had on a big cap made of fur and gloves. William wished he was wearing something like it. On both men’s feet was a type of snowshoe William had never encountered. They were contrived of similar material as the pack baskets they carried. The frame was constructed from bent wood and the netting was an intricate lacing of rawhide that kept them from sinking into the snow. They were round at the foot and had a tail of wood that met at the base of the heel. Perfect symmetry for tracking game in two feet of snow. William recalled hunting for hare in Norway using skis for traveling long distances. These shoes were far superior for navigating the forests and staying afloat.
“Bennett, so glad to see you. I thought we might be lost,” William said as he shook his hand.
“We saw smoke last night but figured we’d wait ’til morning. I knew you’d be all right for the night. It’s too cold even for the wildcats to be roaming,” Bennett said. The man to his side said nothing, but William could feel his disapproving glare.
Bennett said, “This is Alvah. Alvah Dunning. Best trapper, nimrod, and guide you can find in all of the Adirondacks.”
“Good to meet you.” William extended his hand.
Alvah returned the greeting and said, “You mighta come better prepared for the turn of weather round here.” Then he turned his head slightly and spit a stream of brown liquid. The men watched as the gob of tobacco juice crystallized in the frozen snow.
“Don’t mind him. We’s glad you made it,” Bennett said.
“And so are we. It was a more treacherous journey from Blue Mountain than I expected, especially on skis.”
“Skied eh? Yeah that would tack on a few days,” Bennett said. “Eaten yet?”
William shook his head.
“Follow us then.” He led Jerome and William back to his cabin in the woods.
They followed a path along the shore. On their right the dark mountains framed the frozen lake. The sky, so threatening the day before, was an intense, sparkling blue in the morning sun.
When they reached the small cabin William was taken aback. It was no longer the small shanty he and his father stayed in the summer before. This building was constructed with logs, the bark left intact, each piled one on top of the other and joined at the ends, and the roof was shingled with bark.
“We upgraded a bit this fall,” Bennett remarked.
When he entered William could see that Bennett had added a potbelly stove with a pipe extended up and out of a hole in the ceiling. There were a few small wooden chairs cast about the room. The men gathered the chairs and sat by the fire drinking coffee from tin cups. William explained their mission.
“I told my father I would stake out the best place to start construction for our camp compound. I think I like the point of land where we set our tent down last night. It gets both the morning and afternoon sun,” he said.
Bennett and Alvah nodded in agreement. “It’s called Long Point,” Alvah said.
There was rustling at the front door and Bennett walked over to open it. A slight man with two young people by his side stood at the entrance.
“Isaac,” he said to the man, “come on in.”
Bennett introduced Isaac Lawrence who was accompanied by his young son Ike and daughter Louise. William guessed she was older than Ike by a few years. They removed their snowshoes, stamped their feet at the entrance and walked into the cabin. They were dressed in unusual outfits, which William recognized as the Iroquois attire he had read about and seen pictures of in the books his father sent him while living abroad.
They had on deerskin moccasins that covered their calves and were lined with some type of fur, possibly rabbit. They also wore rabbit fur hats and deerskin pants. Ike’s looked well worn, a hand-me-down, William imagined. All in all, it suited this landscape, and the need to be light on your feet for hunting in the terrain. Each carried a rifle. Ike’s large hunting knife swung from a belt at his waist.
William couldn’t take his eyes off the young woman. He had seen many exotic women when he traveled the Nile, but she was different. He had never witnessed anyone so beautiful. Her complexion was flawless, in a tint that reminded him of copper, and her eyes were as dark and deep as a doe’s. Her black hair was plaited and ran down the length of her back. As the men talked quietly, she barely spoke, signaling instead to her father or brother when she needed something or if they asked her a question in their native tongue.
“You left the bark on the logs,” Isaac said.
“Yeah, Alvah told me. Said to use cedar,” Bennett responded.
“Cedar lasts longer than hemlock, but if you can find elm, it lasts longest,” Isaac said.
The men shook their heads in agreement and William thought how he wouldn’t know the difference. He left to use the outhouse. When he came back he said to Bennett, “I see you put an entranceway in this room and the one in the back.”
“Makes it easier when the cabin is full and the men have to excuse themselves. No one is disturbed that way.”
Isaac, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rose to his feet. “We are following the trail of a wolf. I left traps before coming here to rest. Louise insisted on coming to prepare our food.” Ike followed his father’s lead and got up as well.
“Of course, and I have enough to feed all of us. Why don’t we join you on your hunt and Louise can stay behind and cook?”
Isaac shot a questioning glance at his daughter. She smiled and quickly moved to open their packs and bring out the venison and vegetables they had wrapped to make stew.
Alvah grabbed his gun and loaded it. “If there’s a wolf, there’s a pack.”
William and Jerome picked up their guns as well. Bennett handed them snowshoes. “You’ll need these.”
Isaac, William learned, was an expert trapper. He had followed the urine trail of the wolf from his own homestead and laid a trap. Before he arrived at Bennett’s cabin he had baited the trap with fresh deer meat. When they came upon it, they found one wolf crying in agony, his leg clamped by the heavy steel jaws, and another circling, howling in fear. Alvah raised his gun and shot the frantic animal. The shot echoed in the forest, and the trapped wolf whimpered.
“I can’t stand to see an animal suffer, and I’m a better shot than you Isaac,” Alvah said.
Isaac said nothing, just walked up to the trapped animal and shot him in the chest, ending his suffering as well.
William was astounded by the size of the beasts. They loaded them on a sledge Isaac had brought and walked back in the snow to the cabin.
“You keep the bounty Isaac, me and the Warden don’t get on too well,” Alvah said.
“How much will these two skins bring you?” William asked.
“Thirty,” Isaac said.
“I’ll give you that and more if you can make fur accouterments for me,” William said.
Isaac stopped and looked up at William. “You’ll have to negotiate that with Louise. She and my wife make our clothes.” He continued walking.
William’s height had always been his advantage, but speaking to Louise, who was at least a foot shorter, made him feel awkward, like a ponderous giant. Further adding to his humility was the fact that he didn’t have the currency he needed to pay her to make the garments, just a few coins. What little money he had brought with him to the wilderness he spent mostly on boarding his horse and sled at the inn at Blue Mountain.
He fumbled to get the coins out of his pack and held them out to her in his outstretched hands, promising more when he saw her next. Louise shook her head.
“No need to give me those now. I will make the clothing for you. You can pay me when we see each other again.” Her faith in his sincerity took him by surprise. She smiled at him as if they shared a secret.
“You are worried about paying me yet you hardly know of my abilities to prepare the skin and sew,” she said.
“Your father told me you make his garments. That is proof enough I think,” William said. “How can you trust that we will see each other again?”
“These woods are big, but unlike animals, people are easy to track. Most men do nothing to hide any sign of their existence,” she said. William found her warm smile endearing.
The Lawrence party was in no hurry to move on. Ike skinned the wolves and Louise prepared the hides for sewing. Ike gave her the brains to soften the hides. She boiled these in water and after scraping away the fat layer on the hide with Ike’s hunting knife, she brushed the brain mixture over the skin, the oils from the brain absorbing into the flesh. She then soaked the hides in water and repeated the procedure. After a couple of days, she stretched out and hung the skins from two oars over a fire outside the cabin. “The smoke will keep them soft while they dry,” she told William who watched her with fascination as she processed the skins. Once the skins were prepared she used sinew to sew the clothes.
William never wanted to leave. Then he remembered why he came. Early one dawn he hiked the mile to the point where he and Jerome had set up their tent. He stood along the beach, his back to the lake, and surveyed the forest. The trees here were mature, they had never been cut. There was little undergrowth; no small saplings to contend with. He envisioned situating the cabins to take advantage of the sun all day, and the lake views. Satisfied with his decision, he retreated back to the path to Bennett’s cabin and heard a small sound. He stood motionless, hoping to hear or catch a glimpse of game. And then he saw her, a doe, on her hind legs, browsing a cedar tree along the shoreline. Carefully, he lifted his gun and took aim. She must have caught his scent because she got back down on her front legs and stared directly through the muzzle of his gun. Her intense stare rattled him. He hesitated. She shuddered, and bounded back into the woods. The moment to shoot was lost. William solemnly walked back in the snow. If they didn’t already own it, he knew he would talk his father into buying this point of land.