CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
THE SUGAR-TREE.
"In the evening, we returned to our house, carrying with us, on the backof Pompo, a good-sized bag of salt. We had evaporated enough to cureour venison, and to last us for several weeks to come. When it shouldbe used up, we knew where to go for more. There was no danger of thespring going dry. We had noticed, previous to the discovery of the saltcreek, that the water of the lake was perceptibly brackish; but we hadnever reflected on the cause. Doubtless, this fact had prevented usfrom yearning--as we might otherwise have done--for the valuablesubstance we had now obtained in such plenty.
"That night, after we had finished eating our supper, Harry, who hadbeen all the day burning with curiosity to know what was the importantdiscovery hinted at by his mother, now reminded her of her promise.
"`Come, now, mamma!' said he, in a challenging tone, `what is it?--Whathave you found equal to that fine bag of salt, which you will all pleaseto remember is the fruit of my discovery?'
"`But did I promise to tell you to-night? I said when we should be inlow spirits, did I not? We are all happy now!'
"`Oh! you said to-night,' replied Harry. `Besides,' added he, trying tolook grave, `I _am_ in low spirits. I have been so all day--eversince--ever since--'
"`Ever since you let the kettle against my shins, and wentskunk-hunting,' interrupted Frank, with a laugh, in which Cudjo joinedheartily.
"This allusion to Harry's morning adventure, which had formed thestanding joke of the day, was not at all relished by him; and the lookof _mock_ gravity which he had assumed now became _real_. His mother--with whom Harry was a favourite--noticed that he was vexed, and that nowwas the very time to apply the remedy. She soon, therefore, changed thecurrent of his thoughts, by proposing to disclose the secret she hadpromised.
"`Well, then,' said she, `my discovery is this. While we were going upthe valley this morning. I saw at some distance over the woods the topleaves of a very beautiful and very valuable tree.'
"`A tree!' cried Harry; `what! a cocoa-nut?'
"`No.'
"`A bread-fruit, maybe?'
"`No.'
"`Orange, then?'
"`No, Harry,' replied his mother. `You must know we are not in thatlatitude. We are too far north for either bread-fruits, orange-trees,or cocoa-nut palms.'
"`Ah!' exclaimed Harry, with a sigh, `those three are the only trees Icare a fig for.'
"`How, now, if it were a fig-tree, since you speak of figs?'
"`Oh! very well,' replied Harry, `figs will do; but I would rather ithad been one of the others.'
"`But it is not even a fig-tree.'
"`Oh! it is not. What then, mamma?'
"`That of which I speak is a tree of the temperate zone; and, in fact,grows to greatest perfection in the coldest parts of it. Have younoticed some tall straight trees, with thick foliage of a bright redcolour?'
"`Yes, mamma,' answered Frank; `I have. I know a part of the valleywhere there are many of them--some of them nearly crimson, while othersare orange-coloured.'
"`Those are the trees of which I speak. The leaves are now of thosecolours because it is autumn. Earlier in the season they were of abright green above, and whitish--or, as it is termed, glaucous--on theunder surface.'
"`Oh!' said Harry, seemingly disappointed with this information. `Ihave noticed them, too. They are very beautiful trees, it is true; butthen--'
"`Then, what?'
"`They are of no use to us--such big trees as they are. There is nofruit upon them, for I looked carefully; and what then? We do not needtheir timber, I'm sure. We have as good timber as we want in thesetulip-trees.'
"`Come, Master Hal--not so fast, if you please. There are many parts ofa tree which may serve for valuable uses besides its fruit, or itstimber either.'
"`What! the leaves?' inquired the impatient Harry. `What use can wemake of leaves?'
"`Come, brother,' said Frank, in an improving tone; `the leaves of sometrees are very valuable. What think you of the tea-plant, forinstance?'
"Harry felt rebuked, and remained silent.
"`We can make no use of the leaves of this tree,' continued his mother;`at least none that I am aware of.'
"`The bark, then?' interrogated Harry.
"`No--not the bark either.'
"`The roots?'
"`I know of no peculiar virtue in its roots more than those of the oak,ash, or any other large timber trees.'
"`What then, mamma? It has no flowers, I am sure; nor fruit neither,except little seeds with wings upon them like a spider-fly.'
"`Those are its fruit.'
"`Oh! what use could we make of them? I have seen just the same, orvery like them, growing on the common sycamore.'
"`You are right there, for the common sycamore, as you call it, is atree of the same family. But I did not say we could make any use ofthese winged seeds. Can you think of nothing else that belongs to everytree?'
"`Nothing! Let me see--yes--yes--the sap?'
"`Ha! the sap!' repeated his mother, with a peculiar emphasis.
"`What, mother!' cried Frank, `a maple?'
"`Yes! a _sugar-maple_! Now, Master Hal!'
"These words produced a startling effect upon the whole company. Frankand his brother had both heard of the famous sugar-maple, though neitherof them had ever seen it. The younger members, Mary and Luisa, knewnothing about maples, but the word `sugar' was more familiar to them;and that, in connexion with the joyous looks of the others, at onceproduced visions of sweetmeats and candy. Cudjo, too, who had never metwith the sugar-maple--as it did not grow in the neighbourhood whereCudjo was himself indigenous--nevertheless liked sugar as well as any ofthem, and greeted the announcement with delight. Nothing was heard forsome moments but cries of joy, mingled with the words `sugar' and`sugar-maple.' Greater is the longing which children, or even men,experience for that which is difficult to obtain; and greater is thedelight that is felt upon the prospect of obtaining it.
"After the transport of our little circle had in some degree subsided,Mary proceeded to explain to them the nature of this remarkable tree.
"`The sugar-maple,' said she, `you may easily distinguish from othertrees by its light-coloured bark, and palmate five-lobed leaves, whichin summer are of a bright green colour, but in autumn change, as yousee, to crimson or orange. It somewhat resembles the English oak in itstrunk, branches, and the great mass of foliage which it carries. Itswood is very heavy, and is often used in the manufacture of beautifularticles of furniture, as well as for ships, mills, and other mechanicalpurposes. But the principal value of this tree is found in its sap; andby the mysterious, but always wise distribution of Nature, it seems tohave been given to the people of the temperate and colder latitudes, inplace of the sugar-cane--which, as you know, flourishes only in hot andtropical countries.
"`Each maple,' continued my wife, `will yield annually from three tofour pounds of excellent sugar; but to do this, it should be tappedearly in the spring--for the sap does not run in the summer or winter.It runs, however, in the autumn--though not so freely as in spring--butwe must hope that we shall be able to draw as much from ours as willsupply us until spring comes round again.'
"`But, mamma,' broke in the inquisitive Harry, `when and how shall weget the sap?'
"`I suppose, Harry, you wish for separate answers to these two questionswhich you have put so closely together. Well, then--our best time todraw it will be after the very first frost which makes its appearance.It has been found that the sap yields best when the nights are clear andcold, and the days dry and warm.
"`The manner of extracting the sap, and the process of making the sugar,are both very simple. In the first place, we must make a great manylittle troughs--one for every tree we intend to tap. These are used tosupply the place of vessels, which of course we have not got. Thefarmers of the United States, who make maple-sugar, also use thesetroughs--as they will often have several hundred trees running at
thesame time, and it would be rather expensive for a backwoodsman to supplyhimself with so many vessels from either the potter, the tinman, or thecooper. But the troughs, which are easily made, answer the purpose justas well; and Cudjo here is able to make them for us.
"`After the troughs nothing more is needed, except a few joints of thecane which grows here all around us. An auger-hole must be bored ineach of the trees, about three feet from the ground. Into each of theseholes a single tube of cane must be inserted, so as to form a spout toconduct the running sap into the troughs below. We shall then havenothing farther to do, but wait while the sap gathers in the troughs,collect it into our kettle, and boil it over the fire in the same manneras we have done the salt water.
"`Now, Master Harry,' concluded my wife, `be patient. Hope for an earlyfrost, and you shall have a practical illustration of all these things.'
"Harry had not long to wait. Upon the third night after, a slighthoar-frost covered the ground, and the day following was bright andwarm. This was the very time to tap the maples, and so we set about it.
"Cudjo had already prepared the troughs--more than twenty of them inall. These he made in the usual manner. He cut the trunks of severaltulip-trees--those that were about twelve inches in diameter--into logsof three feet each. These logs he split into two equal parts, andhollowed out the split sides with his chisel and mallet--thus formingrude vessels, but quite good enough for the purpose of holding the sap.The cane tubes were also got ready; and proceeding to the trees--all ofus together--we bored a hole in each with our auger, fitted in the canejoints, and propped the troughs underneath. In a short time the crystalliquid began to drip from the ends of the spouts, and then it ran fasterand faster, until a small clear stream fell into the troughs. The firstthat issued forth we caught in our cups, as the sugar-water is mostdelicious to drink; and it seemed as if our little people, particularlyMary and Luisa, would never say `enough.' Harry, too, was as fond of itas they; and was heard to declare that the sugar-maple was the finesttree of the forest, and quite a match for either bread-fruits, oranges,or cocoa-palms. We had brought the large kettle, and a fire was soonkindled, and a crane erected--just as we had done when making our salt.In a few hours the kettle was filled with sap, and boiling over thefire.
"Each of us had our separate duty to perform Cudjo, with his bucket,went from tree to tree, collecting the sap as it gathered in thetroughs, while Mary and I kept up the fire, and looked to the ladling.When a kettle of the water was sufficiently boiled down, it wasnecessary to pour it out into small vessels, that the sugar mightcrystallise by cooling. For this purpose we used all our plates,dishes, and cups. As soon as it cooled it became hard as a brick, andof a very dark colour. It was then removed from the small vessels, anda fresh quantity poured into them. That part of the sap which would notcrystallise was carefully strained from the vessels, and becamemolasses; and these, let me tell you, are much finer than the molassesthat are made from the sugar-cane--much richer in colour, and pleasanterto the palate.
"Frank and Harry had their part to perform--which was to walk about,rifles in hand, and guard the troughs. This was an important matter,for it is a singular fact that wolves, raccoons, badgers, opossums, and,in short, every animal wild or tame, will drink the sap of thesugar-maple, and are so fond of it that they will risk their lives toget at it. As the trees we had opened stood at a considerable distancefrom each other, our two little sentries were kept constantly relievingone another upon their rounds.
"The sap continued to run for several days; and, of course, we were keptbusy during all that time. Had it been in the spring-time, we shouldhave been employed for weeks at it, as it then runs longer and morefreely. We were favoured with a smart frost every night, which was afortunate circumstance, as the water did not gather during the coldhours of the night--otherwise we should have found it impossible toguard the wild animals from our troughs.
"All these nights we slept by the fire, where we had made a regularcamp, as is usual in the backwoods of America. We only went to thehouse when it was necessary to get some article that was needed. We hadput up a little tent, made out of our old wagon-tilt, to cover us; andthe place we called by the name which is in use among the backwoodsfarmers--that is to say, a `sugar camp.' We found this out-of-door lifevery exciting and agreeable, camping thus in the thick shady woods withthe great majestic trees towering over and around us--listening at timesto the light breeze, as it rustled their golden leaves--or lulled into apleasing tranquillity by the songs of a thousand birds. At night,however, the music was not so sweet to our ears. Then we heard thebarking of wolves, the mournful `coo-whoo-a' of the great horned owl,and the still more terrifying scream of the cougar. But we kept up acrackling, blazing fire all the night, and we knew that this would keepthese fierce creatures at bay.
"At length our work was done. The sugar-water flowed each hour moreslowly, and then ceased altogether; and we broke up our camp. When wehad returned to our house, and collected our many-shaped loaves--forthey were of various forms, according to the vessels in which they hadbeen moulded--we found that all together weighed nearly an hundredpounds! This would be enough for all our wants--at least, until thespring, when we purposed returning again to our grand store-house amongthe sugar-maples."