One man’s wilderness (18 page)

On the way back from the hump last evening I packed some meat scraps and the antlers and skull of the wolf-killed caribou. The camp robbers were busy now on the meat scraps. There was something the wolves overlooked. I sawed through the skull to remove the antlers and there it was, the brains. I put them into a pan of salt water to soak and would have them for supper.

Put my table top, counter top, counter lower shelf, and shelf over the door together, using half-inch plugs driven into the holes on the edges of the boards. Each plug was coated with glue.

A surprise—Babe again. He brought a couple gallons of nails, spuds, onions, some fresh head lettuce, bananas, three pairs of pants, and still no polyethylene. I hadn’t expected him so soon. I guess if you learn not to expect much, you won’t be disappointed too often.

After Babe left, the boss hunter made two trips in. Lots of traffic today at Twin Lakes. Must be the forecast of a big season.

This evening the table and shelves are very solid. Mighty good glue.

Supper of caribou brains fried with corn meal, eggs, onions, salt, and pepper in bacon grease. And sourdough biscuits, too. That’s eating high off the caribou.

July 21st
. Today will be known as the day of the golden sunrise. Fast-moving fleecy clouds sailing through melted butter. A beautiful sight to watch. I was late having my hotcakes and bacon.

July 22nd
. Cloudy and still.

Two months now since I started the cabin. Lots of nailing on the roof poles today. More finish work on the furniture and the cabin interior. Too windy for the roof job in the afternoon.

July 23rd
. Clouds moving at a good rate of speed out of the southeast. A warm breeze.

A day to hang the door. I checked and rechecked my hinges to see that they were in line. I put the door into the opening and fastened the top and bottom hinges. Swings good but squeaks a bit. Some soap will fix that. Now to fasten number two and three hinges. Number three wasn’t good enough so I pried it off and planed the seating surface. That was about right so I daubed on some glue and nailed it fast. The door works quiet and easy, with all four hinges secure. I could leave it alone or cut it in two for a Dutch door, which I had intended it to be. Let’s cut her in two and see what happens.

I pulled the hinge pins, set the door on edge and sawed it nearly through. Then I put it back, inserted the hinge pins and carefully finished the cut. I swung it back. Happy day! Not perfect but plenty close for rural work. Now I had a Dutch door and a real fancy-looking door at that. With soap on the joints and pins, it is entirely silent. Works just as slick as a door on a bank vault. I must devise a latch for it, not just buttons and hooks like a barn door.

I cut my table legs to length, planed my counter top and shelves, and gave the whole works a coat of varnish. This layout is beginning to take shape.

July 24th
. After supper last night I took the casting rod and the fly rod down to Hope Creek. The grayling were feeding greedily, fins and tails swirling all over the surface. A fish snapped the fly from the leader the very first cast. I didn’t
have another fly with me so I switched to the casting rod and the battered old Super-Duper lure dangling from the end of it. Wham—a heavy strike in the fast water and the tip hoopled. The fish darted this way and that until I finally slid him onto the stones, a handsome grayling all aglitter with silver, purple, and blue. Seventeen and a quarter inches long, enough for my needs. I watched the grayling feast on what the current brought them. What a sight it would be to put on a wet suit and mask and visit the grayling at their evening banquet down under.

Flat calm this morning and high clouds. I gave some thought to the fireplace I was going to make. I had just the log for the mantel all picked out. It was weathered a silver-gray color. I fastened it to the wall with pegs so I can saw them off when I get ready to lay up the rock. That will be an interesting project.

Supper was interrupted by a bear I spotted foraging on the upper Cowgill benches. As I often do, I had taken my binoculars off the hook for an inspection of the slopes and I caught up with the bear, not a big one. He looked like he was wearing a wig. His winter coat was loose, long and dangling from back and sides, and his new dark coat was trying to take over. He pawed over some boulders that bounced down the slope and into the spruce timber. Burned my biscuits and wilted the fireweed salad but it was worth the price.

July 25th
. The camp robbers visited early. I dug out some caribou scraps, and one of the birds finally swooped in and grabbed one of them from my fingers.

I need more storage space in my cabin, something other than cans and boxes, like a closet bureau with doors on the front closing toward each other. I spent the day ripping boards out of logs. I made six hinges out of gas-can tin, then time ran out on me. I will finish it in the morning.

I am nearly moved in now.

Thought I would catch my supper at the creek mouth before heading back to Spike’s cabin. A strike right off, but it got away and must have told every fish in the pool about its narrow escape because I never got another touch.

A warm evening and my sourdoughs puffed up like balloons. Light and heavenly.

July 26th
. A good morning to paddle across the lake to my straight-pole patch. When will this pole business end? I need some for my closet bureau and some to hold the moss down on the woodshed roof.

I cut more poles than I needed. Good straight poles are handy to have standing by. Back with the load before nine o’clock, and before long I finished the closet bureau started yesterday. Its shelves will hold lots of clothes. Room for some small odds and ends, too. The doors open out, close together, and stay shut tight with a twist of the wood cleat over their edges.

Now I need a window. With half-inch by half-inch mullions I divided the window frame into nine pane sections. Storm window plastic was then anchored fast with masking tape on the outside of the muttons. Handiwrap was similarly taped on the inside and the air was trapped between the layers. Presto—a poor man’s thermopane.

July 27th
. How clear it is through my big window! All of a sudden the cabin has more character.

I climbed the hump and filled a can with blueberries. They are at their best with raindrops on them, but I enjoyed them sugared for dessert this evening.

Just before I broke out of the timber, I startled a mother spruce grouse with about six youngsters the size of quail. Such a hurtling in all directions! She stayed on the ground, however, pussyfooting on the carpet of moss and making low clucking sounds without opening her bill at all. Her throat feathers swelled as the low sounds came out.

I spotted a little one balancing on a bough. As I approached, it squatted nervously, stretched its neck down below the level of its body, wobbled its head, teetered, crouched lower, and stretched higher as if to say, “Hey, Ma, what do I do now?” I backed away to avoid further confusion of the family.