lects 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, before 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 within the large, oval
sugar house, busily engaged in making arrows for the destruction of the
rabbits and chipmunks which we knew would come in numbers to drink the
sap. The birds also were beginning to return, and the cold storms of
March would drive them to our door. I was then too young to do much
except look on; but I fully entered into the spirit of the occasion,
and rejoiced to see the bigger boys industriously sharpen their arrows,
resting them against the ends of the long sticks which were burning
in the fire, and occasionally cutting a chip from the stick. In their
eagerness they paid little attention to this circumstance, although they
well knew that it was strictly forbidden to touch a knife to a burning
ember.

Suddenly loud screams were heard from without and we all rushed out to
see what was the matter. It was a serious affair. My grandmother's axe
had slipped, and by an upward stroke nearly severed three of the fingers
of my aunt, who stood looking on, with her hands folded upon her waist.
As we ran out the old lady, who had already noticed and reproved our
carelessness in regard to the burning embers, pursued us with loud
reproaches and threats of a whipping. This will seem mysterious to my
readers, but is easily explained by the Indian superstition, which holds
that such an offense as we had committed is invariably punished by the
accidental cutting of some one of the family.

My grandmother did not confine herself to canoe-making. She also
collected a good supply of fuel for the fires, for she would not have
much time to gather wood when the sap began to flow. Presently the
weather moderated and the snow began to melt. The month of April brought
showers which carried most of it off into the Minnesota river. Now the
women began to test the trees-moving leisurely among them, axe in hand,
and striking a single quick blow, to see if the sap would appear. The
trees, like people, have their individual characters; s