Using Fire

Walt recycles his snowmobile fire by shoveling it into his cabin stove. Why waste a perfectly good fire?

Fiery Snowmobile

The favorite section of the movie, Dead River Rough Cut is when Walt warms his behind by setting his snowmobile on fire.

Sam McGee

Walt knew several poems by heart, but his favorite was The Cremation Of Sam McGee.
After a couple of cocktails, Walt would begin his recitation to the amazement of his listeners.

Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.” On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see; It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee. And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.” Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan: “It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone. Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee. There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.” Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing. And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.” And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see; Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee. Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky. I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside. I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide. And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door. It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm— Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee. Walt

A New English Word

Look how beaverish that water looks down there. Walt

Beaver Trapping

You know this beaver trapping for some people is a lot of fun. It is for me, but there’s more work to it than people realize. You have to chisel through 30 inches of ice a lot of times.
Your hands are in the water, ice cold water.
You have to quit working, build a fire and warm your hands, and then come back to work again. There’s more work to it that meets the eye. Bob

Gorby Birds

Here Gorby, come get it. Come on little fella. Aren’t you hungry. That’s a scardie cat there.
Camp Robbers, Canadian Jays, Gorbies, all the same bird. They disappear in the summer, go farther north. They come back in early October. They’re company. You go out here and build a campfire most anywhere and in a minute you have a gorby bird around. The old legend is, if you believe in reincarnation, the souls of old woodsmen come into these birds, and there are some who really believe it. With a lot of these old-timers it’s kind of a superstition with them. I don’t know how many believe it now, but back in the forties, by gory, there was a pile of them. Walt

Always Looking For A Girl

I’m always looking for a girl, but I ain’t found one that wants to live the way I want to live. If I could find a woman that likes the woods life, I wish she’d show herself up, but she’d have to prove herself. I mean I wouldn’t take her word for it. I mean she’d have to live with me and have an awful rough life. She wouldn’t have a spring bed under her every night. I’d tell her that. But if there’s a woman like that around, I’d be tickled to death to have one. But they gotta live my way. Bob

Two At A Time

You know we had an old shack when we were working up there in the Cornish lot. I used to go down and see this old girl. I say old girl, but shit, I guess she was seven or eight years younger than we were. Walt say Jesus, you’re gone two or three nights, how about taking me to get a little. Well, I said I’ll fix you up with one tonight. Walt said she’d never go for that with the both of us. I said don’t worry about that. He bet me a case of beer I couldn’t. We picked her up on an old woods road. Walter had that old panel with a bed in it. Well we kept her out all night and gave her quite a time. The only thing was, I won my case of beer, but Walter sat around and helped me drink it. Bob

Chasing Women

You know it’s cheaper for a man to be married and have only one or two kids than it is to have a whole bunch of women. You know it costs money to run around with these women. Just running and chasing. Just the gas money to run and see the darn things. It runs you into a dollar unless a man finds one of these women who pays the bills, but I never hit too many of them. Jesus Christ, it’s just like anything. It’s like buying a car. You can pay too much money for a car you know. It doesn’t matter what you buy. You can pay too much for a gun. I mean the price it cost just for the drinks you buy and to take ‘em out. Well, some of these women, it just ain’t worth it. Bob

Staying Together

Oh, we’ve worked together in the woods. Cut wood. Yarded wood with horses, yarded wood with cattle. Pulled cattle at the fairs. Christ, we’ve gone out in the woods camping, canoeing, and doing a lot of that stuff together. Fishing, used to go on vacations together. Drank a lot of old cider together. We drank barrels of that stuff. Oh walt’s all right. He has his moods, oh I have to put up with a little of his shit, and maybe he does with mine sometime. We have our ups and downs and ins and outs, arounds and arounds, but we always seem to wind up back together again. It never seems to fail. Bob

O'Nassar

You take that O’Nassar there, he married Jackie Kennedy. Look at the money he’s got, and he’s gonna buy her a diamond mine. Just for the fad of it. Well, that’s all right, that’s all well and good, but there’s no need of any one man having that much money. What the hell does he need all that money for. He could give 90% of it away and still have enough to have anything he wants in the world. Why bunch your money up. Well, I admit, he had to be smart but there’s no man ever made that much money and made it honestly. It’s impossible. It can’t be done. He stole that from somebody through hook or crook or someway. No man ever worked in his life and made that much money. He either had it left to him which is not dishonest, but whoever left him that much, then he was dishonest. He hurt somebody. He’s stepped on a good many little fellas toes, he beat him and didn’t use him fair and right to get that much money. It just can’t be done. You don’t think so, then go ahead and try it.
I’d be all in favor of passing a law that said it ain’t right for you to have that much money. You don’t need it. I’d take it away and just drive down the road and you’ll find some poor guy struggling his head off who got nothing and a whole bunch of kids. Throw him a thousand dollars. Go down the road and throw this other guy a thousand dollars.
I don’t know how much that O’Nassar is worth but he’s worth plenty. I don’t give a damn. When the time comes and the old boy comes down and taps him on the shoulder, and says, hey you’re going to come with me, I don’t care how much money he’s got. He’s gonna go right along same as I’m going to. His money ain’t gonna do him a damn bit of good. And it ain’t. Ain’t gonna do him a might of good. So where’s he gonna be any better than I’ll be when it comes right down to the end of it.
They’re gonna put him right in the ground and he’ll rot just as fast as I will. Bob

Finance Companies.

I’ve drove cattle ever since I’ve been old enough to hold an ox board in my hand. It’s just something you normally done, just like a kid learns to talk.
When you work with a team, you don’t hate yourself. You enjoy yourself. With me, I stuck with teams in the woods. A lot of ‘em laughed, but at the end of the week the money I had was mine. I put it in my pocket. I didn’t have to go pay a bank or finance company.
I’d turn the whole works back about 100 years. Throw the cars all out. Shut the factories all down. Put em all back on little farms again. Of course the people today wouldn’t enjoy that. You take my father, grandfather and all them. They didn’t have no worries, no hubbubs. Hell, today you get up in the morning fighting yourself. Hell, I’m going to be late to work. Everything’s a rush. They gotta get to work because they have a payment comin due on this, a payment coming do on that. Bob

Walt Dreams

I had a dream the other night about these beaver. You know it seemed like I woke up in the middle of the night. It was a nightmare. Here I had two or three of these great big beaver I caught out of a flowage, and one little kitten and there were more in the flowage and they looked at me and they were all pointing at me and they said he’s the one, he’s the one that that caught our momma and daddy and our little brother, he’s the one. Oh that made me feel so bad I woke up and said I’d never trap any more beaver. Walt

Hanging Out

Sit around that old camp a good many nights all alone and then I’d hear a noise and in would come Walter, he’d blow in and we’d shoot the breeze just like old times again but it only lasted a short time then he’d go back to his camp and I’d be alone again. After two or three days he’d be back or I’d be at his place and we’d have a few beers together. Kinda nice to have somebody to shoot the breeze with. Keep you from talking to yourself. Especially with Walter who’s an old buddy and we did so many things together. Bob

Death

These old beaver, you might as well get them out because they have some age on them, they’re on their way out and they’re going to die anyway same as everybody else.
That’s something you can’t get away from, death and taxes. They get away from the taxes, but they don’t get away from death. Bob

Trappers

Nobody really likes trappers. They think they’re a heartless bunch of barbarious savages. No, trappers are not well liked. There’s no question about it. Most guys just trap because they enjoy it. The price of fur isn’t enough to make a career of it. It’s nice to get in the outdoors and match your wits with the elements. These animals, you match your wits with them too. These animals all know how to take care of themselves. Walt

The Turnpike

Our old farm, all grown up now. Sold it when my second wife divorced me. Got rid of it. Place is all grown to bushes. I’d have kept that place if the turnpike hadn’t gone through. We’d go out and sit on the steps years ago. Listen to night noises. Owls be hooting. Foxes yapping, coons squalling.
After the turnpike went through I used to sit on the west steps there and all I could hear was vroom vroom vroom. Go back inside and slam the door disgusted. So I got rid of the place. They went through Clarence Berry’s property. Right down through the middle of his big field. Now he was making his living on his farm. It worked him up so he finally hung himself. Found him hanging off a beam one morning. Walt

Reflections

A person can enjoy very little all by themselves. Most enjoyment comes with and through other people. You know, if a man was sentenced to live the rest of his life on an island, totally isolated from all people, he would be just as well off to be dead. the animals are that way. Animals gather in families unless you find one of these old loners. They’ve generally lost their families and are sort of an outcast. You might possibly class Bob and I as outcasts now. Walt

Modern Life

We just lived as everybody else at one time. He just got plain sick of it and so did I. We think everybody’s crazy wanting all this stuff when they could live simple. I lived that way. That’s why I say I got a right to say it. Had 10 kids, lived in a big house, had 11 rooms in it. 2 and 1/2 stories, electric stove, flush toilet. When the bathroom frigged up, had an old-fashioned shit house out back. That always worked. Bob