the Minnesota river. We found this hut partially
filled with the snows of winter and the withered
leaves of the preceding autumn, and it must be
cleared for our use. In the meantime a tent was
pitched outside for a few days' occupancy. The
snow was still deep in the woods, with a solid crust
upon which we could easily walk; for we usually
moved to the sugar house before the sap had act-
ually started, the better to complete our prepara-
tions.

My grandmother worked like a beaver in these
days (or rather like a muskrat, as the Indians say;
for this industrious little animal sometimes collects
as many as six or eight bushels of edible roots for
the winter, only to be robbed of his store by some
of our people). If there was prospect of a good
sugaring season, she now made a second and even
a third canoe to contain the sap. These canoes
were afterward utilized by the hunters for their
proper purpose.

During our last sugar-making in Minnesota, be-
fore the "outbreak," my grandmother was at work
upon a canoe with her axe, while a young aunt of
mine stood by. We boys were congregated with-
in the large, oval sugar house, busily engaged in
making arrows for the destruction of the rabbits
and chipmunks which we knew would come in

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