MY FIRST TRIP IN THE COUNTRY

MY FIRST TRIP IN THE COUNTRY

When I was fourteen years of age, I felt I would like to make a trip in the country, especially around the end of April, when the partridges would be flying around and pitching on the barrens picking up berries for food, and to hear the male bird shouting 'come back', as I often heard my dear old Dad telling stories about them.

I kept tormenting my Dad to take me in. He told me to get ready for Monday morning, so I tapped my skin boots and prepared my glasses and everything else that I needed. Dad prepared the food, pot, kettle and all that was needed, and he packed it in our komatik box. Early Monday morning we took off. I was so excited I wouldn't get on the komatik. I could run like a deer, especially when the snow was frozen so hard.

We drove about thirty miles, then we came to a small shack. It reminded me of the small porch Dad has fastened to the house to prevent the snow from drifting in, they called it a snow porch. I was delighted to see this small building stuck up on the nap. I jumped off the komatik and ran to the shack, opened the door and looked in. I saw an old tin stove, two board bunks, a small window and some short junks of wood on the floor.

We removed everything from the komatik and put it in the shack. We boiled the kettle and had our lunch, because Dad was intent to go for a hunt that evening. We had some salted caplin so Dad took the axe and cut a hole in the pond close by and put the caplin in the water to soak some of the salt out, then we took off with our dog team. Soon I saw some birds flying from one barren to another. Dad would go about forty yards from them and 'BANG' go his gun and the poor birds would fall on their sides. Dad killed twenty-eight that evening.

Next morning the snow was frozen hard and we were out early. There were many birds flying around. The male birds were bawling in all directions.

Dad would drive with the dogs until the snow began to get wet and soft from the sun, then he would drive to a barren and I would lie down on the barren with the seven dogs around me. Dad would put on his snowshoes and toddle for another couple of hours, then we'd go back to the shack, get a lunch and lay down for a nap...or, maybe Dad would cook a partridge. I was anxious to see how they cooked partridges in the country, because I'd often heard the hunters say how good the birds tasted in the country.

Dad took a piece of pork and cut three or four slices off and put it in the pot to fry. I picked the bird and then Dad cleaned it, but I noticed that he didn't wash it. I told him that Mom always washes birds before she puts them in the pot. Dad said that spoiled them, so I said if it didn't poison him, it wouldn't poison me. When the pork was fried, in goes the bird and a short while after he added some water. Soon the steam flying from the pot. It took about an hour. Dad laid the pot on the bunk and looked around for some wood to make a couple of spoons. All this was new to me. When the spoons were made, he rose the cover from the pot, took the bird out and cut it in half so there wouldn't be any trouble sharing it out. Dad told me this is what they always did. He then took a bun of bread and broke it in small pieces and dropped it in the pot. Soon the pot was full and Dad asked me if I thought we would eat it all.

I said, "Yes Dad, I can eat a horse."

Dad made a big laugh and we picked up our spoons and began eating. I thought it was the best brewis ever I tasted, anyway we didn't stop until the pot was empty. Then we turned to our kettle, which was ready, and wacked in a spoonful of black molasses in our mugs and stirred it up. It reminded me of tar and water but the taste was good. I certainly enjoyed my first big meal in the country.

That morning as we were driving with our dog team, there was a pond ahead of us. When we got near it, there had been an otter on the edge of the ice eating a trout. The otter saw us before we saw it and it disappeared into the water. After we had our meal, Dad said he'd go to watch for it, because it might come back in the evening. He took his gun and away he went, leaving me to look after the dogs.

After Dad was gone for a couple of hours, I looked to the south and to my surprise the fog was coming in as black as could be. Finally it came in and everything went out of sight. It wasn't long long before I began to get frightened. I thought Dad would get astray and I would have to spend the night all alone. At last I began to cry and look in the direction he was gone. No sign of him coming. There was a small window over the bunk. I would take a look by the corner of the shack, then go in upon the bunk and outdoors again, then back to the bunk and pray again. I was almost gone crazy when I saw his head bobbing over the nap close by. I hopped in the shack and pretended I was a big fellow. I didn't tell Dad how worried I was until a week after we got home. ...

LEO O'BRIEN
L'ANSE AU LOUP

THEM DAYS VOL. 5.1