THE CANOE;
ITS SELECTION, CARE AND USE
CHAPTER VIII
RIVER WORK
FOR the skilled canoeman river work probably offers the greatest attraction. If it be a known river there is the joy of the swift, short dashes through white water. If it be an unknown stream there is the pleasure of the unexpected at every turn. New rapids must be studied and dared. Upstream there is the toil and risk of portage and pole. Downstream there is the fleetness and hazard of swift current and wrenching rips.
There are really five divisions in river work --the paddle, the setting pole, the tracking line, wading, and the portage. In the first three there is danger, and skill and experience are necessary for the successful journey. As with rough lake travel, definite instruction or rules can serve for little more than a guide.
The pole is used in upstream work, though many use one in running rapids. In swift water and rapids there is no other way to make progress, under ordinary conditions. A five-mile-an-hour current nearly offsets work with the paddle. Passing up through rapids is impossible without a pole.
A pole should be ten or eleven feet long. One end should be shod with an iron spike, which can be attached by means of a cap fitting over the end of the pole and held on with nails. The spike may be carried in a pack and a pole cut and properly shod when it is needed.
Probably more skill is necessary in poling up through rapids than ever is required with the paddle. In eastern Canada, where there are many swift rivers, there are many men who travel up seemingly impossible rapids with comparative ease.
Perhaps the first thing a canoeist should learn is the power of moving water. He can do this in the little mill dam at home, where the inch-deep water from the sluggish creek, flowing through the apron, strikes his feet and shoots up over his head. The faucet in his bathroom will serve for the city man. A stream navigable by canoe may easily develop ten or fifteen thousand horse power. A man has only to thrust his paddle straight down in swift water and try to hold it there to learn how little is his own strength and how great that with which he must contend.
When the canoeman has duly appreciated the power of water in rapids he must not be misled by the seeming ease with which increasing ability with the pole permits him to ascend. The power is still there; he has only acquired the knack of evading t. He learns that success depends upon keeping the canoe headed straight into the current. To let a strong current grip either side of the bow more than the other means an advantage for the current with which his own puny strength is unable to cope. Once a canoe starts to turn, it instantly swings broadside and is swept back and down. If it strikes a rock there is instant disaster. If it plunges broadside into a heavy backlash there is little or no chance.
The skilled handler of a pole, by heading his canoe slightly one way or the other, can utilize the power of the current to carry him sideways without danger of being turned around. This is frequently necessary in changing from one channel to another or in avoiding boulders. It must be done delicately and carefully, however.
In such work the advantage of the canoe with ends higher than the bottom is seen, There is less of bow or stern in the water, and less for the current to grip. The boat can be turned easily by the canoeman, but it is not turned so easily by the current as a straight keeled craft.
When there are two men poling in the same canoe the work is easier and safer. Both can ,n apply motive power, while the man in the bow may do much of the steering. This leaves the stern man free to expend more of his strength in shooting the canoe upstream.
Unlike paddling, both men pole on the same side. The application of power at the stern by pole is directly opposite to that by paddle, so far as the course is concerned, as it is a push, not a pull. In the bow the result is the same with pole or paddle. Hence, both poles must be used on the same side.
One skillful poler can do wonders in upstream work. Two can do the seemingly impossible.
To pole it is necessary, of course, to stand in the canoe. This is not so difficult as it seems, once the canoeman has acquired a natural or instinctive sense of balance. The pole helps greatly in keeping him steady.
The pole should be held with the left hand as near the top as the depth of water permits. The right hand, held about two feet lower, should be stationary. The left hand slides out toward the end on the recovery, sliding down nearer the right when the greatest power is applied.
As the canoeman passes the point where the pole rests on the bottom he begins to apply the greatest pressure. He leans forward, and his weight and strength are both used in a quick propulsion of the canoe against the current. The knees bend, and he assumes a semi-squatting position when exerting the greatest pressure. The recovery and grasp of a new hold on the bottom should be accomplished as quickly as possible that the canoe may not lose all its headway or the bow swing so as to be caught by the current.
If one is not accustomed to poling, it is exceedingly tiresome work for a few days. After once being broken in, a man can pole ten hours a day or more with no greater exhaustion than from paddling.
In running rapids with a pole it is necessary to stand in a canoe, and here greater skill and experience are essential than in ascending swift currents. By beginning in less tumultuous rapids, however, the knack can be learned and the canoeman will discover that, as he can force the canoe against a current, he can also "snub" his craft quickly when going downstream.
In shallow, fast, boulder-filled water the pole is the better implement for running rapids. With the bowman using a paddle and doing much of the steering, the stern man, standing erect with his pole, is ready for instant action in stopping his craft or in swinging it across a current to avoid a boulder or gain a better channel.
Where rapids are deep and with only a few or no large boulders, use of the paddle in both bow and stern is the best method. Both paddlers should kneel, thereby increasing the stability of the canoe and affording greater safety in those strong, quick, lateral strokes necessary in changing the course of the craft. The bowman is of nearly equal importance with the stern paddler in guiding the canoe, and it must always be remembered that the canoe must move faster than the current if there is to be steerage-way. When the craft has been slowed down to the speed of the current, in changing the course from one channel to another or in avoiding boulders, it can be turned only by the paddlers reaching far out to the side and pulling it over by main strength.
Only experience gained by beginning with harmless rips and working up through more treacherous currents can tell the canoeman how to judge rapids and how to estimate his own ability to negotiate them successfully. He will learn the force of moving water and what his craft can do, will learn how quickly he can "snub or turn, how to cross currents, and how to make use of currents in holding or changing his course.
Perhaps the best way to learn to run rapids is to climb them. Let the canoeman use a pole and spend day after day ascending some rapid-filled stream. A strong and necessary respect for the power of moving water will be instilled, and knowledge of the effect of twisting currents on a canoe will be learned with the danger greatly lessened.
Then, after a couple of weeks of the exhausting work, let the canoeman turn his craft and run down. He will pass three to six camping places in a day. There will be the exhilaration of rapid movement that seems more rapid after the long days of plodding. And he will know every rip, every twisting current, the location of every boulder. The slow upward journey permits careful inspection of each rapid and gives that knowledge necessary for successful downstream work. A trip of this nature will give a canoeman far more experience and skill than six weeks of running downstream.
With some canoeists success in running rapids breeds contempt. It is generally with such men that accidents happen. "I got careless just once and ran some rapids without studying them," is the way a mining engineer explained the loss of his equipment when making a run to James Bay. He and his companion lost everything except their canoe and lived on fish for six days.
One of the first things to be learned in river work is the ability to read the bottom of the stream by the surface. The depth of the stream, every boulder, each swirl and twist in the current, is seen instantly by the practiced eye. A trained canoeman will run a strange rapid after one glance downstream. Only a few of the essentials can be told here. The fine points of the game, the infinite variations, must be learned by experience.
A rock four inches below the surface will barely show, by ripples, in a four-mile current. In a twelve-mile current the same sized boulder will be easily known, though it is a foot or more below the surface. In swift rapids, where there is a great volume of water, rocks three or more feet beneath the surface throw up large waves. The canoeman learns to know when his canoe may strike such a rock and when it may pass over it in safety.
At first the canoeman will not be able to distinguish between waves and ripples produced by rocks beneath the surface and those caused by the swift current suddenly entering a deep pool beneath the rapids. Then the backlash, or waves, appear much like those caused by boulders, when in reality they are caused by the shock of swift water suddenly striking comparatively dead water, or by a volume of water so great that the channel does not permit a straight, even flow.
The backlash is not dangerous unless it assumes large proportions or the canoe drops into it broadside. Then it becomes deceptively so. Unlike rollers piled up by a gale on an open lake, waves in rapids are exceedingly stiff and uncompromising. They are high, curling, and close together. The canoe does not have the chance to rise and fall gently as on a lake, but, urged by the current, plunges directly into them before lifting. It is in such rollers, when they become three or more feet high, that a canoe will fill and sink so quickly that the canoeman does not realize what has happened until he is in the water.
More accidents have occurred in rapids because of failure to estimate the backlash, or to handle the canoe properly in it, than from striking rocks. Once the canoeman is in the backlash, the only thing he can do is to hold his craft straight,. ease the shock of striking waves as best he can, and keep an even keel.
Rocks in rapids are dangerous, but they are not so dangerous as popularly supposed. A canoe, properly handled, will never strike a large boulder in midstream if the boulder is so near the surface as to split the current. When a canoe does strike such a rock it is invariably due to ignorance of a simple rule in running rapids. A large rock near or above the surface in a large volume of swift water splits the current completely. Only the spray or a small percentage of the water passes over the rock. The strong, compelling water flows on either side.
In approaching such a rock it is only necessary that the canoe be kept straight with the current and a little to one side of where the split will occur. Then the current will take the canoe with it around the rock. The danger comes in making a quick turn to dodge the rock and permitting that half of the current which passes on the opposite side to grasp the stern. Then things happen so quickly that the canoeman probably never figures out just what did occur.
The canoe was turned to pass to the right of the rock. In turning, the stern was shoved into that part of the current passing to the left of the rock. There it was held and swept downward, the craft turning broadside to the current and being carried directly on to the rock. In such a position skill and strength are powerless, and the canoe is crushed or at least turned over and the canoemen and duffle spilled.
Many times, in running rapids, it is necessary to change from one channel to another. It is in this that great skill is necessary. Knowledge of the action of twisting currents is also essential that the water may be made to do as much of the work as possible. It is necessary first, of course, that the canoe be moving faster than the water that there may be steerage-way. The stern paddler must do most of the work, for the bowman, by pulling the bow to one side or the other, offers the current an opportunity to grasp the canoe broadside. The stern paddler should pull the stern toward the direction in which he wishes to go. The current will swing the bow, although the bowman should hasten the movement. In this way the canoe may be lifted sideways, or slightly diagonally, until the new channel is attained. Sometimes, in swift but comparatively open water, it is possible to shoot diagonally down and across, but the canoe must be traveling much faster than the current.
The beginner should never offer the bow of a canoe to a vicious bit of fast water, nor should he ever attempt to travel straight across a current. In ascending rapids it is a good rule always to keep the bow headed straight into the current until the canoeman has learned to use the current in changing the course. A member of the Canadian geological survey lost his life because he attempted to go straight across a bad stretch of rapids. The current and backlash flipped the canoe over instantly.
There are times when tracking, or lining, a canoe is easier and safer than poling, while the trouble of portaging is unnecessary. Many rapids can be ascended in no other way, the volume or speed of the water making poling impossible.
The line should be run through a ring in the bow of the canoe and fastened to one or two thwarts. If the canoe is heavily loaded and the current very swift, much of the strain may be eased and distributed by passing the line beneath the packs in the bottom of the canoe and fastening to a thwart in the rear. Then any sudden strain is expended on the line beneath the packs and not on any one point in the canoe. When there is no ring in the bow the line should be given a turn on the shore side of the bow thwart and fastened to a rear thwart.
One man can pull a heavy canoe up a bad stretch of rapids. His companion should walk along the shore opposite the craft and keep it off the rocks. If there is much tracking to be done, a tump line used as a breast or shoulder strap will make the work much easier for the man ahead.
Sometimes rapids are so shallow it is necessary to wade and pull the canoe. The work is made much easier if there is a man at either end to lead the craft across currents and around rocks and shallow places. One man alone at the bow often has a difficult and exasperating time of it.
In summing up the question of negotiating rapids, it might be said that it is the most dangerous phase of canoeing, that it never is completely safe, that the utmost skill, caution, and watchfulness must be exercised constantly, and that no other form of canoeing offers so much sport to the man who has mastered his craft and himself.
CHAPTER IX
PRECAUTIONS: BALLASTING THE CANOE
THE seasoned wilderness traveler learns many precautions, recognizes signs of danger, and realizes the value of compromise and stealth as opposed to that of blind, bulldog fighting, while the novice continues unconcernedly, miraculously avoiding dangers which he does not see or recognize. The novice learns slowly, unless disaster has brought him up with a start, or a series of narrow escapes has taught more quickly the necessity of eternal caution when on a canoe journey.
Drifting down a stream in the midst of civilization or traveling through the wilderness, there is always the possibility of danger around the next bend, beyond the next point. Rapids, falls, treacherous currents, gathering storms, sudden squalls, hidden rocks-each of the many possible dangers of the wilderness is taken as part of the day's work by the woodsman and guarded against or anticipated accordingly. The man traveling through a country for the first time, especially if he is not a skilled woodsman, must be on his guard continually. His map may not tell him of every rapids or falls and his ignorance of local weather conditions does not permit his forecasting storms or estimating their possibilities.
The woodsman, if he knows his country, many times travels by weather. That is, he forecasts the weather in the morning and picks his route accordingly. If he sees signs of a heavy wind or quick, strong squalls, he will choose the lee shore of a large lake, even though he must paddle more miles to reach his destination. He may even forsake a straight course down big lakes and make a detour through sheltered streams and small lakes. If he does not know the country he will study his map well at night or before starting in the morning, estimating his chances of crossing big stretches of water, noting islands and points that will afford shelter from a strong wind "and permit him to sneak" around an open stretch.
The seasoned traveler in a land of large lakes does most of his traveling before nine o'clock in the morning. Under ordinary conditions, the wind seldom attains much strength before that time. To be up at three o'clock and in the canoe by four means half a day's travel before a storm makes further progress impossible. The woodsman will study his route and so time his journey that he may strike big, open stretches of water in the early morning. If he knows his country well, he will do most of his traveling after sunset, sleeping in the daytime.
There are days on large lakes when travel is impossible at any time, and there is no alternative except a tiresome wait on shore. The sunset lull may offer a chance of escape, although, in stormy weather, this may last only ten or fifteen minutes, hardly enough to risk a dash across a three or four-mile stretch in which the dead swells are still rolling.
Weather conditions vary in different parts of the country, and forecasting at best is a gamble, but there are generally several signs of squally weather which are common anywhere. A close, hot day generally means a storm in the night or the next forenoon. In some parts of the country certain winds prevailing for a day bring a storm. The canoeist should learn these weather indications in the country in which he is to travel and avoid open stretches when there is a possibility of a quick, sharp squall or strong wind.
While this is important, it is also essential that the canoeist know what he can do and what is impossible for him and his craft under certain conditions. He may cross a stretch of open water in a strong, steady wind in perfect safety, but he should always estimate the nature of the wind and of the waves, look for possible shelter in an emergency and know exactly how much his canoe will stand and how much he himself can contend with.
In traveling in a new country care is necessary in descending rivers. Ordinarily falls or rapids make themselves heard in plenty of time to permit the canoeist to get to shore. But sometimes, when a strong wind is blowing, or the river is making sharp turns in rocky gorges, one will turn a bend to find himself at the brink of a falls or rapids.
People who live in such a country and know the rivers thoroughly will sometimes run the top of a bad stretch of rapids and thereby shorten their portage as much as possible. Care should be taken in such places not to overrun the portage. Upstream, of course, there is practically no danger.
The question of ballasting a canoe properly comes best in such a chapter, for upon the distribution of the load in a craft depends safety as well as ease in travel and dry duffle. No matter what the distribution fore and aft, the weight of the load should always be placed as low as possible. If there is room to lay a pack flat on the bottom, it should not be stood up. If there is not room on the bottom for all the packs, those containing the heaviest articles should be placed beneath those containing tents and blankets. A low load not only means greater stability and safety, but offers less surface to the wind.
In ordinary travel, in open water or in rivers, the bow should ride two or three inches higher than the stern. Many canoeists put an unnecessary drag on their craft by placing the bulk of the load in the stern.
In running down a swift stream or traveling before the wind, a canoe should be on a nearly even keel.
In bucking straight into a heavy wind the bow should be greatly lightened. If two men are traveling with a very light load or with no load at all, it is better for the bowman to move back nearer the middle. A light bow means a drier canoe.
In running before a gale the canoe will handle better, and will be drier, if the bow is as far down as the stern.
In traveling upstream, especially when poling, it is better to have the bow ride much higher than the stern. The canoe handles more easily, as there is less opportunity for the current to grip and twist the bow, and greater progress is possible.
The advisability of having a light bow and stern in a heavy sea or in rapids with a bad backlash is seen when a man paddles his canoe alone from the center. Bow and stern rise and fall easily with each wave, and the lone canoeman, while he may not make the speed, gets through with a dry craft and with practically no danger of upsetting.
To travel on the principle that there is to be no opportunity for an upset is the best way to keep dry duffle. If, however, the canoeist wishes to take chances on windy lakes or in rapids, he should at least take the precaution of lashing the more important pieces of his equipment to the canoe. This may be done, if packsacks are used, by simply unbuckling a strap, passing it over a thwart, and rebuckling it.
If duffle bags are used, a tump line may be attached to a thwart, run through the handles at the ends of the bags and attached to another thwart.
The canoeist should never venture into the wilderness or far from a base of supplies without a repair outfit. Manufacturers invariably will furnish directions for repairing their craft and will supply the necessary materials. As a rule, it is better to obtain such an outfit at the time the canoe is purchased. If this has not been done, a can of Ambroid or a good canoe cement, some copper tacks, and several small squares of canvas will do. White lead is furnished now in friction top tins and is excellent for repairs.
In case of a tear in a canvas canoe, the torn edges should be pulled back, white lead, canoe cement, or Ambroid placed on the planking and the canvas stretched back and tacked down. An outside coat of white lead or cement completes the job. With a wooden canoe it is generally necessary to shape a thin piece of cedar between the ribs and the batten strips on the inside, tacking it on with copper tacks after first coating it with white lead or Ambroid.
CHAPTER X
THE PORTAGE; METHODS OF CARRYING CANOES; THEIR CARE
HERE are many methods of carrying a canoe, each generally depending upon the size and weight of the craft, the custom of a particular district, and the prejudice or hobby of the carrier. A twelve-foot birch, weighing only twenty pounds or less, may be taken across a portage by simply thrusting the arm beneath the middle thwart and carrying it as a woman would a market basket.
With such a canoe, or one weighing as high as fifty pounds, the canoeman may, if there is nothing else to carry, throw it onto his shoulder, one side resting on the shoulder and the other against his head. In both cases the paddles are placed inside.
With light canoes, however, it is very easy and simple to carry a packsack as well, and then the canoe must be turned over and carried bottom side up. This may be done in any one of three or four ways. The canoe may be turned over on the pack and the middle thwart rested on the back of the neck or on the pack itself. Few canoes are made, however, with a thwart exactly in the center. Generally the middle thwart is placed four to twelve inches aft.
There remain the two accepted forms of carrying-with the paddles 01: with a yoke. Some Indians employ a fourth method and carry the canoe by a head strap or tump line attached to a stiff pole lashed to the middle thwart and on top of the gunwales.
With a canoe weighing less than seventy-five or eighty pounds the paddles probably afford the best method. There is no extra contrivance to be adjusted or to get lost, just one less piece in the equipment. To carry a canoe with paddles, thongs or strings should be tacked to the center and rear thwarts. They should be so arranged that the paddles can be easily slipped in and out and yet be held securely. The paddle blades should be placed on the center thwart and the other ends at the stern. The blades should be far enough apart to permit them to rest on the shoulders without cramping the neck muscles.
While a canoe may be carried on paddles with the center thwart some distance from the exact center of balance, the canoeist will be wise to have his canoe built with the center thwart exactly in the center. Then, with the paddles properly adjusted, the weight is distributed between the shoulders, by the paddle blades, and the back of the neck by the thwart. The spring of the paddles is eliminated, and the canoe will carry much more easily.
With either method, if there is not enough natural covering for the bones, a shirt or sweater thrown across the shoulders will serve. Patented air pillows and pads are only something extra to be cared for and accomplish no more than a good woolen shirt.
The Indian seldom attaches his paddles to the thwarts. Generally he places the shafts on the center thwart and the blades on the bottom of the canoe. He will hold them there with his hands as he swings the canoe over his head. But he has a light canoe and has been doing that sort of thing for several hundred years. The white man will have less trouble if he has his paddles lashed.
Several forms of yokes are manufactured, and, where one man is to carry a canoe weighing eighty pounds or more, they will be found an advantage over the paddles. A stiff paddle will hold such a canoe, but it is not the best implement for its principal use.
The original, homemade yoke, and one now being manufactured, consists of two parallel bars reaching from gunwale to gunwale and braced about eighteen inches apart. Sometimes wooden buttons hold the yoke to the gunwales, or it may be made to fit a certain canoe tightly. But generally it is loose, the weight of the canoe holding it in place. The loose yoke is a great disadvantage, however, in getting the canoe to the shoulders and back to the ground.
With such a yoke the shoulder contrivance is made in one of several ways. Generally two broad strips of canvas are tacked to the two crossbars, running parallel to the canoe and resting on the shoulders. Sometimes these strips are made of rawhide or other leather, and canoemen have been known to tack a large piece of raw moose hide to the two bars and cut a hole through which to thrust the head.
One of the first manufactured yokes was patterned after the old-fashioned, hand-carved water bucket yoke. This will serve very well if there is a proper method of attaching it solidly to the canoe. At first the canoeman fears it will twist his head off if he should stumble but a little experience shows that one can easily extricate himself.
The best yoke for carrying a canoe is that generally sold in the United States. It consists of a single crossbar which has a curve of several inches in the center to make room for the neck. On each side of the center is a wooden block covered with a leather, hair stuffed pad. When the canoe is in position, these pads rest on the shoulders and make carrying as comfortable as is possible.
One caution must be exercised in purchasing such a yoke. See that the two pads are attached to the crossbar by thumb screws and are adjustable. One make of yoke has fixed pads, whereas men do not have the same width of neck or of shoulders. A yoke with the pads too close together is impossible.
A little experience will show that a canoe is carried more easily when the carrying contrivance is so fixed that the stern is heavier than the bow. One hand grasping a gunwale then balances the canoe perfectly, while there is no obstruction of the view of the trail.
When a canoe becomes too heavy for one man, or if no one in the party cares to portage an 125-pound craft alone, two men may carry the canoe. Experienced canoemen are unanimous, however, in the opinion that one man may carry a canoe more comfortably alone than with the aid of another, even when the weight exceeds one hundred pounds. Further, there is one less trip across the portage and back.
When two men carry a canoe it should be carried bottom side up and lifted above their heads. The man at the stern then lowers his end until the gunwales rest on his shoulders. His companion lowers his end until the front thwart rests upon the back of his neck and shoulders. Both men then have a good view of the trail, while each may carry a light pack. It should be remembered, however, that the man in front has more than his share of the canoe. Further, if he finds that the thwart is painful, he can lash the paddles to the center and forward thwarts.
Due to ignorance or carelessness, the canoe receives more abuse on portages than anywhere else. Manufacturers have built a remarkable craft for its pounds, but it will not stand everything. The canoe is built for a purpose, a purpose which it alone can fill, and, for the very reason that it will carry heavy loads and still can be easily carried itself, it must have its weak points.
These weak points need never be put to the test if the canoe is properly built and is properly handled. Remember that a craft weighing sixty-five pounds can carry nearly half a ton, but that the sixty-five pounds are spread out over a length of sixteen feet and a width of three. Naturally the supposition should be that no great weight should ever rest on one point or small surface. See that the weight is always distributed, don't try to prove a manufacturer's claim as to what his product will do in a freak test, and your canoe will live much longer and continue to give good service.
Following these simple rules without exception means fair treatment for your canoe:
Never load a canoe which is not floating freely.Never run the bow or stern of a canoe onto the shore; always come up to the land broadside. Step out into the water rather than to rest the craft against a rock, snag, or gravel bottom.
Never take a canoe from the water unless it is empty and can be easily handled.
Never load a canoe on shore and then drag it into the water.
Never lift the bow of a loaded canoe onto a rock or onto the shore. Unload it, or tie it and let it drift.
Always be careful in stepping into a canoe to let the weight down gently, and after making sure that there are no rocks or snags beneath the craft upon which your additional weight will force the bottom.
Never sit on or in a canoe on shore.
To seasoned canoeists some of these rules may appear useless, if not actually an insult. But there is not one of them that is not broken hundreds of times a day, while the men who observe them all are rare.
But caring for the canoe properly and obtaining the most adaptable method of carrying it does not end the subject of portaging. In some districts the portage is an ever-present problem. A portage may be marked on a map, and it may not. Even if marked, it may be on either side. There are a few north country portages which are on islands, rapids, or falls forbidding passage by canoe and the nature of the shore prohibiting an easy carry. Portages leading from lakes to other lakes, or to rivers,may start most anywhere. In fact, a stranger in the wilderness more often than not spends much time looking for the trail over which he must carry his burden. Frequently the take-off is not blazed. It may start from a flat rock on which there is no trace of a trail, or its end may be hidden behind rocks or bushes in a cove.
The experienced woodsman does not have so much trouble, for he has learned how to look for a portage. He knows that a portage, no matter where, how or why, was made by men who sought the shortest and easiest way between two lakes or around a falls. In fact, he looks for the obvious place for the portage rather than for the blaze or the beginning of a trail.
Traveling on a river, he knows, naturally, that there will be portages around bad rapids and falls. When he encounters such a place he looks first at the hills on either side of the stream. He looks down the valley to see if the river bends. If it turns to the left, he looks to the left bank for the beginning of the portage. If it be high water, he looks close to the top of the falls or beginning of the rips. If the water is low, he looks farther up. If there is a short stretch of rapids that can be easily run, and quiet water between it and the more vicious rips beyond, he will run through and look for the portage where the quiet water ends.
On a lake the woodsman will watch the country back from the shore rather than the shore itself. If he knows where the lake or river into which he must portage lies, he will study the intervening country, look for a bay running back in the right direction and then pick the lowest point in the hills behind the shore.
None of these rules is hard and fast, but in the main they are to be relied upon. The exception occurs only where unusual geological formations make unusual portages necessary. There are times, too, when thick brush or windfalls caused the original portage makers to take a longer route because it could be more easily cut out.
In the north country there is invariably one distinguishing feature at each end of every portage -- the tea stick. The Indians and the woodsmen boil the pot often in their travels, and, should there be no blaze or trail to mark the take-off of a portage, the traveler should look for the blackened sapling thrust into the ground or propped across a rock.
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© 2000 Craig O'Donnell
May not be reproduced without my permission.
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