The Trappers Wife
Elizabeth Goudie
(larger version)
Behind every great trapper is an even greater woman! Women far and wide are encouraged to Run Full Tilt! "In a country where only men are encouraged, one must be one's own inspiration." - Tegla Loroupe, Kenya, 1994 New York City Marathon champion.
Woman of Labrador , Children around your cabin door Wondering when their daddy will be home. He's gone on the trapping lines, Seems like such a long, long time since he's waved his last farewell And left you all alone. - Andy Vine, "Women of Labrador," in Tim Borlase, Songs of Labrador
Married life for a young trapper's wife was hard, especially at first. She couldn't go out as often as she has when she was single. She now had to do all the work of the household without her mother's help. When her husband was home, she was expected to stay home, too. When he was away at his traplines, she faced the difficulties of staying home alone.
She would always keep a shotgun above the door. All the outdoor chores now fell to her, as well as her usual work. Often , the nearest neighbors were many kilometers away; but she could not go to them for company of help because of the danger of wild animals.
Not a person to speak to…. A trapper's life was not a lonely one because each day brought sights and new life. His wife would spend a more lonely time…. It was a life not full of people or what people could offer you…. There were no people around you, but every day you had something to make you happy. We were satisfied. - Elizabeth Goudie, Woman of Labrador, pp.28-29.
During the winter months while her husband was away, the trapper's wife was responsible for getting necessary food. Sometimes she would go out onto the frozen bay on snowshoes and jib through the ice for fish. Snowshoes were also useful when she fetched water for her household.
I shut up my little children in the house, took my gun, went down to the river and waited for 2 deer and shot one of them and my eldest daughter came to me with a paddle to strike it on its head, and the dogs heard the report of the gun and came running down so we had to work to drive them away. When it was dead, Susan and me took it on a komatik, took it to the house, skinned it and jointed it and put it way in the store, and here comes the joke. When Mr. Daniel Campbell and Thos. Blake, my eldest song, came home with two deer hearts, I have them some dinner. While they were eating I went out the door slyly, and took in my deer's heart and put it with the other two, and when I asked them how many deer they had killed, they said only two. I said, What three hearts is this? They looked foolish like. They said some mountaineers must have brought it here. They asked each other who killed it. I said I killed it today. Then we all had a laugh over it. - Lydia Campbell, Sketches of Labrador Life, 1983, p.4
When the time came for a woman to have a child, her husband would hire a midwife to come and look after her. As soon as she regained her strength, she once again took up her many chores. If a midwife were not available, others might be called upon to help out.
I had a real bad miscarriage one time. The Indians were traveling out of the country at that time and I was callin' for a mid-wife. There was an old woman called Aunt Lizzie Adams and she was livin' up to Adlatok with Uncle Bill Able. That's the only old lady we could think about callin' and we wrote a letter up. The Indians came with a letter sayin' that Uncle Bill was comin' first open water with a mid-wife. We was some overjoyed. At the same time I was workin' around the house doin' heavy things and I been kind of hurt myself and it happened that I lost the baby. The Indians was the ones that helped me. They come up from their tents and they done everything to bring me around and get me well. - Mabel Manak, Them Days, Vol. 8, No. 1, p.36.
If a family were lost in a storm and came to her house, she would have to be friendly and take them in.
A big storm came on and we had to stay indoors for a couple of days. I heard a faint knock on my door. I stood still for a moment wondering who would be coming on that stormy day. I opened [the door] and standing before me was a starving Indian. I looked behind him and his wife was standing there. I looked behind here: there were two children, one about three years and one about five years old. I had to take them in. I had a little corner behind my stove about four by six feet and he asked me if they could have that. I said yes.
The storm was just as bad [the next day] so I knew I had them for another day.
The next day I got up and looked out; my windows were drifted half-way up. It took me and [the man] all day to dig out our windows and doors.
The following day, the storm passed and they started for Davis Inlet
They looked much better than when they came to my house. They had a good rest. - Elizabeth Goudie, Woman of Labrador, pp.56-58
Very rarely did the chance come to visit with other trapper's wives. When it did, the women would spend a quiet evening together talking about their husbands, each hoping that her man would bring home a good many furs, for more furs meant more money and more food. Her other entertainments might be watching the northern lights through her window, playing with her children, or, if she could, reading the Bible or another book. She grew used to being alone, though her busy schedule and many responsibilities seldom gave her the chance to brood over it.
When spring came, a trapper's wife might go picking berries that had sweetened by winter's frost. Spring also brought her anxiously to her window or door, looking for the return of her husband. To pass the time, she might make new clothing for him. If trapping had not been good, she might accompany him on a second trip to another area. She often worked alongside her husband at heavy physical tasks on such trips, helping to set camp. Sometimes the trip would take several weeks, but the woman would enjoy the outdoor scenery and change from her usual household duties for a while. She might even make new friends along the way.
A trapper's wife led a difficult life. It held much hard work and loneliness; it required much strength and resourcefulness. But it was a life worthy of respect, for her contribution was vital to the success and survival of early settler life in Labrador .
I have been busy all this fall in particular for I had a lot to do with three little motherless granddaughters to work for, besides their poor father and a big son, going off hunting and wood chopping, and the weather so cold as to need all the warm clothing possible to warm them. The weather 30 below zero [Farenheit] and myself off to my rabbit snares, about four miles going and coming over ice and snow, with snowshoes, axe and game bag. Some days I has three rabbits in one day caught in snares, for I had about twenty-four snares, made myself to set them, up and I gets pretty tired some days. Often the snow is deep and soft; just now about three feet deep in the woods. But it can't be expected otherwise with me to get tired, for I am now the last birthday seventy-five years old, last month, first November. I have seen many ups and downs, but the good Lord has safely brought me through. I have been bereaved of my first husband and four of his children. - Lydia Campbell, Sketches of Labrador Life, pp.1-2
Woman of Labrador , Children around your cabin door Wondering when their daddy will be home. He's gone on the trapping lines, Seems like such a long, long time since he's waved his last farewell And left you all alone. - Andy Vine, "Women of Labrador," in Tim Borlase, Songs of Labrador
Married life for a young trapper's wife was hard, especially at first. She couldn't go out as often as she has when she was single. She now had to do all the work of the household without her mother's help. When her husband was home, she was expected to stay home, too. When he was away at his traplines, she faced the difficulties of staying home alone.
She would always keep a shotgun above the door. All the outdoor chores now fell to her, as well as her usual work. Often , the nearest neighbors were many kilometers away; but she could not go to them for company of help because of the danger of wild animals.
Not a person to speak to…. A trapper's life was not a lonely one because each day brought sights and new life. His wife would spend a more lonely time…. It was a life not full of people or what people could offer you…. There were no people around you, but every day you had something to make you happy. We were satisfied. - Elizabeth Goudie, Woman of Labrador, pp.28-29.
During the winter months while her husband was away, the trapper's wife was responsible for getting necessary food. Sometimes she would go out onto the frozen bay on snowshoes and jib through the ice for fish. Snowshoes were also useful when she fetched water for her household.
I shut up my little children in the house, took my gun, went down to the river and waited for 2 deer and shot one of them and my eldest daughter came to me with a paddle to strike it on its head, and the dogs heard the report of the gun and came running down so we had to work to drive them away. When it was dead, Susan and me took it on a komatik, took it to the house, skinned it and jointed it and put it way in the store, and here comes the joke. When Mr. Daniel Campbell and Thos. Blake, my eldest song, came home with two deer hearts, I have them some dinner. While they were eating I went out the door slyly, and took in my deer's heart and put it with the other two, and when I asked them how many deer they had killed, they said only two. I said, What three hearts is this? They looked foolish like. They said some mountaineers must have brought it here. They asked each other who killed it. I said I killed it today. Then we all had a laugh over it. - Lydia Campbell, Sketches of Labrador Life, 1983, p.4
When the time came for a woman to have a child, her husband would hire a midwife to come and look after her. As soon as she regained her strength, she once again took up her many chores. If a midwife were not available, others might be called upon to help out.
I had a real bad miscarriage one time. The Indians were traveling out of the country at that time and I was callin' for a mid-wife. There was an old woman called Aunt Lizzie Adams and she was livin' up to Adlatok with Uncle Bill Able. That's the only old lady we could think about callin' and we wrote a letter up. The Indians came with a letter sayin' that Uncle Bill was comin' first open water with a mid-wife. We was some overjoyed. At the same time I was workin' around the house doin' heavy things and I been kind of hurt myself and it happened that I lost the baby. The Indians was the ones that helped me. They come up from their tents and they done everything to bring me around and get me well. - Mabel Manak, Them Days, Vol. 8, No. 1, p.36.
If a family were lost in a storm and came to her house, she would have to be friendly and take them in.
A big storm came on and we had to stay indoors for a couple of days. I heard a faint knock on my door. I stood still for a moment wondering who would be coming on that stormy day. I opened [the door] and standing before me was a starving Indian. I looked behind him and his wife was standing there. I looked behind here: there were two children, one about three years and one about five years old. I had to take them in. I had a little corner behind my stove about four by six feet and he asked me if they could have that. I said yes.
The storm was just as bad [the next day] so I knew I had them for another day.
The next day I got up and looked out; my windows were drifted half-way up. It took me and [the man] all day to dig out our windows and doors.
The following day, the storm passed and they started for Davis Inlet
They looked much better than when they came to my house. They had a good rest. - Elizabeth Goudie, Woman of Labrador, pp.56-58
Very rarely did the chance come to visit with other trapper's wives. When it did, the women would spend a quiet evening together talking about their husbands, each hoping that her man would bring home a good many furs, for more furs meant more money and more food. Her other entertainments might be watching the northern lights through her window, playing with her children, or, if she could, reading the Bible or another book. She grew used to being alone, though her busy schedule and many responsibilities seldom gave her the chance to brood over it.
When spring came, a trapper's wife might go picking berries that had sweetened by winter's frost. Spring also brought her anxiously to her window or door, looking for the return of her husband. To pass the time, she might make new clothing for him. If trapping had not been good, she might accompany him on a second trip to another area. She often worked alongside her husband at heavy physical tasks on such trips, helping to set camp. Sometimes the trip would take several weeks, but the woman would enjoy the outdoor scenery and change from her usual household duties for a while. She might even make new friends along the way.
A trapper's wife led a difficult life. It held much hard work and loneliness; it required much strength and resourcefulness. But it was a life worthy of respect, for her contribution was vital to the success and survival of early settler life in Labrador .
I have been busy all this fall in particular for I had a lot to do with three little motherless granddaughters to work for, besides their poor father and a big son, going off hunting and wood chopping, and the weather so cold as to need all the warm clothing possible to warm them. The weather 30 below zero [Farenheit] and myself off to my rabbit snares, about four miles going and coming over ice and snow, with snowshoes, axe and game bag. Some days I has three rabbits in one day caught in snares, for I had about twenty-four snares, made myself to set them, up and I gets pretty tired some days. Often the snow is deep and soft; just now about three feet deep in the woods. But it can't be expected otherwise with me to get tired, for I am now the last birthday seventy-five years old, last month, first November. I have seen many ups and downs, but the good Lord has safely brought me through. I have been bereaved of my first husband and four of his children. - Lydia Campbell, Sketches of Labrador Life, pp.1-2