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Updated: June 22, 2025
But it was such a queer one, and I was listening so closely, that I came very near falling off the door-knob when some one started to come out. I think we'd better eat our pie first. I might get one of those huckleberries in my throat while talking, and there's no doctor close at hand to keep me from choking to death." So they ate their huckleberry-pie, and then Mr. Thimblefinger told the story.
The ride in the cedar canoe, with an Indian at the stern carefully guiding it past snags and boulders, is one of the pleasantest portions of the trip. The winding river is followed for nearly fifty miles. There is mile after mile of silent forest, the solitude broken only here and there by camps of Indians who are spending the summer by the river, fishing and picking huckleberries.
In among the blueberry bushes grow huckleberries, "choky pears," and black-snaps. Gnarled oaks and stunted pines lift themselves out of the wilderness of shrubs. They look dwarfed and gloomy, as if Nature had been an untender mother, and denied them proper nourishment. The road is a little-traveled one, and furrows of feathery grasses grow between the long, hot, sandy stretches of the wheel-ruts.
We never wearied watching them, especially when the hazel-nuts were ripe and the little fellows were sitting on the rails nibbling and handling them like tree-squirrels. We used to notice too that, although they are very neat animals, their lips and fingers were dyed red like our own, when the strawberries and huckleberries were ripe.
In the New England and Canada woods beechnuts were their best and most abundant food, farther north, cranberries and huckleberries. After everything was cleaned up in the north and winter was coming on, they went south for rice, corn, acorns, haws, wild grapes, crab-apples, sparkle-berries, etc.
Well, by and by Lonesome Huckleberries' shanty hove in sight, and I was glad to see it, although I had to answer a million questions about Lonesome and his history. I told the Todds that, so fur as nationality was concerned he was a little of everything, like a picked-up dinner; principally Eyetalian and Portugee, I cal'late, with a streak of Gay Head Injun.
I remember, years ago, when I was following the legislation of an eastern State, that a bill was introduced fixing the depth of a strawberry box, and another obliging the vender of huckleberries to put on the boxes a label in letters of certain height indicating that they were picked in a certain way.
The beautiful wanderers flew like the winds in flocks of millions from climate to climate in accord with the weather, finding their food acorns, beechnuts, pine-nuts, cranberries, strawberries, huckleberries, juniper berries, hackberries, buckwheat, rice, wheat, oats, corn in fields and forests thousands of miles apart.
One quart of ripe fresh huckleberries or blueberries, half a teaspoonful of mace or nutmeg, three eggs, well beaten, separately, two cupfuls of sugar, one tablespoonful of cold butter, one cupful of sweet milk, one pint of flour, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Roll the berries well in the flour and add them last of all. Bake half an hour and serve with sauce.
The fisherman, too, dreams of fish, sees a bobbing cork in his dreams, till he can almost catch them in his sink-spout. I knew a girl who, being sent to pick huckleberries, picked wild gooseberries by the quart, where no one else knew that there were any, because she was accustomed to pick them up country where she came from.
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