Building a longhouse
Everyone takes part in building a new longhouse after a raging fire consumed an old one - and almost the entire village with it. It can be a risky job lifting the massive frames. Moose directs the building as the builders strain their muscles to put the pieces in place.
Click through to see photos of a longhouse in construction
Excerpt from the book
When everyone had eaten, the work on the longhouse began again. The Bear Clan and the Wolf Clan had the most difficult work. They placed four poles flat on the ground, side by side, with the middle poles six paces apart and the outer ones two paces apart. The centre pair was taller than the others, so the roof would be higher in the middle. Nimble fingers from both villages then tied shorter poles across the four long poles to hold them in position.
When the frame was finished, the builders cried out for help. “Frame rising!” they shouted and everyone nearby ran to help them—or watch the excitement.
The crowds carried this huge frame over to where it would be lifted upright, and as soon as it had been moved, another group of builders started laying out poles for the next one. The base ends of each of the four solid poles were positioned over deep holes in the ground.
Next came the dangerous part of raising the frame. With the children standing back and watching from a safe distance, Moose gave the signal and the roof end of the frame was lifted to shoulder height and propped up on short poles. Little by little, the builders replaced the short poles with longer ones and the frame began to rise into position.
At the base of the frame, the heaviest members of the village had the risky job of sitting on the rising frames to keep the bottom ends of the poles firmly over the holes. Teams of muscular men pushed against the frames to make sure the ends didn’t slip out of place.
“Get ready everyone!” called Moose. “This is the hardest part. If the ends slip out of the holes while this frame is being raised, it will shoot forward like a four-pronged spear—and the other end will crash down like a deadfall trap. We all need to be careful. No sudden moves!”
When Moose shouted, the frame was lifted to the height of a man’s head. Longer poles were jammed under the end of the structure to support its weight.
“Lift!” bellowed Moose. Using the poles, the builders now pushed the frame to the height of one man standing on the shoulders of another man.
“Again!” he called in a hoarse voice. The men at the high end strained to push the frame until it was almost standing upright.
“Now for the fun,” yelled Moose, turning to the crowds behind him. He knew that raising a frame was part building and part spectacle. Everyone watching the event knew the danger involved and most had seen at least one accident when an uncontrolled frame slipped from its position. Moose knew the danger too, and he basked in the cheers when each frame was raised successfully into its final position.
“Watch now,” cried Moose, as he lowered his arm. “Push with all your strength!” Every muscle in every builder strained to push the frame upright. It groaned as it moved into position and, with a sudden jerk, dropped straight into the deep holes—all four poles slipped in at once. The crowd screamed and cheered as the men on the opposite side of the frame pushed to hold it in place—until the frame finally stopped moving. When they stood back the crowd cheered again, praising the builders. Moose beamed with pride.
By late afternoon several frames were standing in a long row, joined together by horizontal poles tied tightly into place. And by the time the sun began to set on the far side of the river, Moose and Old Chief stood beside the huge skeleton of the longhouse. They talked proudly about the work that had been completed that day, with no mishaps or injuries.
“Tomorrow we’ll start to put the skin over the bones,” said Moose. “We have enough cedar bark to cover most of the house and some elm for the rest. We had trouble stripping the bark after such a dry summer. It’s much easier in the spring when the sap is flowing.”
“Everything is easier when the sap is flowing,” replied Old Chief with a smile.
Moose laughed at Old Chief ’s wise words. “You’re right, my friend. I would hate to have to skin a tree as old as you.” Old Chief nodded in agreement.