Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 281, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 November 1912 — FURS IN FROZEN NORTH [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

FURS IN FROZEN NORTH

JUST the other day it was chronicled that “furs~ valued~at f726,000 were brought to Edmonton, Alberta, from the north country and trans-shipped to London, Paris, SL Petersburg, New York and Boston to supply half the world eventually. Three great companies sent in furs yalued at $626,000, while independent traders brought in the balance. The catch of fox furs was especially large. There are several silver fox skins appraised from $1,250 to $1,500. Experienced trappers have this year made from $1,500 to $2,000 on the average. Scattered the length and breath of the great lone land of northern Canada and along the lonely coast of Labrador at Cartwright, Rigolet, and even to Davis inlet, and still again about the shores of Hudson bay, refined and intelligent Scotch, English and Canadian families live, taking charge of the lone trading posts of the oldest trust in the world. Round about them stretches the wilderness. North of Cartwright, in fact, and almost at that place itself, there is not even a tree of trunk thicker than a sapling’s to comfort the eye, for it is beyond the tree line. Outside, about the post, in the winter nights, the wolves cpme and howl and the call of the wild is answered by the yelp of the Eskimo dog, who is not a dog at all but a species of wolf.

SMp Long Awaited by Exiles. Off to one side is the humble men’s house. There some Indians, or Eskimo, or half breed trappers for the company, who have come in with the load of fur, make merry. In the little whitewashed home, before the twig fire, the factor and hts wife gather and read and write letters, each one long, long letter, a volume almost, to which they add as fancy dictates, for It cannot go until the passage opens in the spring. And then, in the factor’s home, and in the men’s house, both, they look for the coming of the company ship from England. What wealth of good things, what novelties, what dire necessities will not relatives send, or else more prosaic traders ship them! What surprises will there be in store! And what has the world done in all the long months since they lost ear of it? So, like the return of the Mayflower, the exiles speculate, night upon nighty When the ship drops into the har-‘ bor, however, it is to unload as rapidly as possible the supplies for factor and employes, the things to trade with the Eskimo and objects Indians and half breeds covet. And meanwhile they take aboard the furs. It is a perpetual call of “Hurry!” and of “Hasten!” for the summer is short and they must make the round of the posts before the passage closes with the ice, or they will be frozen in. Out in the harbor, where the ship drops anchor, there is the small gray schooner of the factor to catch the eye. It flies a dark blue flag, with a yellow crescent moon, the crescent filled in, then, with red. Off behind several low wooded hills circle about the hamlet. Several neat frames are scattered about and one sees a single main white painted building. This wears a quaint shingle roof, sloping to either side, much like a barn in Ohio. Skiffs lie about outside; two or three other white structures are hidden from view behind it. Again, reflected on the leaden sea is the residence of the factor or agent.

It is icy and drear and lonely here and one is glad to get ashore. First, of course, visitors must peep into the warehouse for furs, killed in the early spring, and awaiting shipment to London. It seems Just a long shed with an aisle down its length, find with barrels to right and to left, four high. Some of the barrels are bound with iron hoops, others with hoops of birch. Brooms stand gathered in a corner, for trading to the trappers, a bundle of withes lies at hand for working into future hoops. Salt is scattered about the floor in lieu ; «f sawdust. Beyond this hut, to right and left of the path, what seem wigwams, but what really are tree trunks, tbin as poles stacked together, rise, the fire

wood for the winter. Between them the walk leads baek to the pier, where other storehouses reveal themselves; two story frames each and all. Towering over these is the master’s house, the seat of government for the poßt. Everywhere outside great Eskimo dogs loiter and there is a, litter of pups under a queer sawmill, with sails resting on the earth as to a salt mill of lower Austria. Newcomers, however, are eager always, first of all, to see more of the furs. To this end they visit a store of the company on the second floor of still another frame structure. Here the trading for pelts is done. All about the wall of the trading post there extend open shelves. On one side a section of these is given over to washbowls of a white porcelain, with blue pattern. The shelf Just below holds more bowls and some socks: that beneath is for worsteds and heavy underwear. Men’s suits finish the compartment. Adjacent to it one finds a section with suits of oilskin, of shirts striped in blue and white, cans of pineapples and tomatoes. Undershirts, too, figure in the availables for trading. Down from the ceiling iron buckets suspend; in a corner there are boxes. Cans of peaches, bundles of brooms, these, too, are open to barter.

Fine Pelts In Trade. A genial young agent, induced to come here from Scotland under a two year contract, takes delight in showing visitors around. He reserves for the last the great chest in which are kept the furs, arrived since the ship took away the spring quota. It is a small outlay, but of inestimable value. Here, for one, is a marten: skin the company paid $22 for. The man who caught It took it out in barter. Two or three silver foxes are brought in a year; some of these net the poor trapper S3OO. One year the post secured seventeen. Then, again, it is a long matter of selection for barter —toilet soap and jiggers for squid, jugs and knives in leather belts, all drawn on by the trapper. Down the front of the store, where the trade is consummated, there extends a heavy, old time counter, with ancient hanging scales at one end. Over these the agent’s servant presides. Out of a pile of furs ready to ship some beauties are brought for inspection. No Hudson bay sable are obtained at this place, but marten are in the yield now. All the skins are packed inside a glove like affair, lined with skin. This becomes a tight case, after proper folding, and the fur is as in a gut. All furs, the man tells us, will fade if kept exposed to the light, and so, in addition, these packets when filled are kept in the ’ tight case in the dark. Meanwhile again he shows some weasel skins from hereabouts. The animals are white in the winter, dark in summer. The skins bring from 25 to 40 cents up here, according to size. Only a part of the skin used.' Even a silver fox skin when brought in is cut in pieces, and these are set into strips from an Inch to two inches broad. These slivers then are set between other strips of cotton in such a way that the garment is made much wider, while the result, to the eye, is the same as if of fur throughout. The front of the skin is used for trimming or insertion under the arms. Only a few years ago marten were worth but $5 or $6 up he*e; now they will bring up to S4O. All furs, in fact, are very high now, since they have become so fashionable. Last winter, in Labrador, the black fox brought from S4OO to SSOO. Marten, too, have been going up each year. Mink and ermine are traded here* 1 , *s6, too, are the white hare and beaver. Mink will come to $5 or $6. Lots of small skins are utilized in filling out a trade. The mink, however, is not of the accustomed reddish tinge unless it has faded. If exposed to light, like all the skins, it turns color and becomes a pale brush red. Tailor marten alone are not so apt as this animal, in the pative state, does not come to bright light so often and nature Is mors sluggish with its n|nnents. ■; 1