MAPLE SUGARINGIN THE NORTHERN WOODS

By HAMILTON PERCIVAL

photographs by e. a. wolcott

THE lengthening hours of sunlight,the blue of the sky, the rosy after-noon f lush upon the naked

branches of the woodland, the honey-combing snow—all tell to the initiated thatthe icy bonds of winter will soon bebroken, and sounds of joyous labor re-sound through the snowbound sugar placesof the northern woods. Here and therepatches of bare brown earth peep throughthe snow, edged with a fairy laceworkwrought by the sun, and the soft rushingof many little rills, formed from the melt-ing snows, sound gently upon the ear asthey flow swiftly down the slopes to jointhe truly brimming river.

This is the sugar season; the gala timeof the north.

Although the primitive and romanticfashion of boiling sap in a huge kettle slungover an open fire has passed away withother things of a like nature, yet the sugar-ing time is still a season of joy and ac-tivity to all living within range of thecamps. The first step in the manufactureof maple sugar by present-day methodsis the preparation of horse-sled roads,which begins as soon as the first heavysnow falls in early winter. A woodenroller, similar to, but of greater diameterthan, a land roller, about eight feet inlength and with driver’s seat on top, isdrawn through the woods in given direc-tions. This packs the snow down solidas well as makes a good foundation, andafter every heavy fall the process is re-peated so that roads are formed that willnot slump when heavy loads of sap aredrawn in the thawing days of spring.

As the weather becomes warmer idMarch, buckets and spouts are overhauled,washed and put in order, to be in readinesswhen wanted. These buckets are usuallyof tin, holding about fifteen quarts each,and often covered, although many woodenopen ones are used by small and less pains-taking manufacturers. Loaded upon sleds,

the buckets are drawn out over the pre-pared roads and distributed among thetrees of the orchard. Sometimes this isclone when the snow is still so deep as tonecessitate snow-shoes, but the wise oldsugar makers tell us that sap will not rununtil the snow thaws away from the baseof the trees; and I have known ambitioussugar makers, lured by a few days ofspring-like weather, to scatter their buck-ets and then not be able to find one ofthem for several weeks, because a bigsnowstorm had buried them two feet deepor more.

But finally there are some warm, sunnydays. The nights continue sharp andfrosty, but the sun comes up with a smilingface and the wind is south and mild. Thisis ideal sap weather, and the whole workingforce is at once mustered to tap the treesand hang the buckets. Holes from one andone-half to three inches deep are bored onthe south side of the tree with a half-inch bit,and into these are driven round tin spouts,with hooks attached on which the bucketsare hung. If the sap starts briskly andthe day is still, one can stand in the sugar-house door and hear the measured drip,drip, drip, until the bottom of the emptybucket is covered. In the most up-to-dateplaces the sap is gathered each day; thebig monitor draw-tub, so called from itsresemblance to the celebrated raft, beingdrawn along the roads and filled by relaysof men who collect the sap from tree totree by big pails slung from a shoulderyoke. When the “monitor” is filled it isdrawn to camp and emptied into hugeholders having cloth strainers on top tocatch any foreign substance which mayhave fallen into the sap. Where theorchard lies on a slope the sap is frequentlyconducted to the camp through pipes, andthus much of the hard labor is saved anda part of its picturesqueness lost.

The camps are frame buildings, wellroofed and ventilated and boarded, but

Tapping the Trees.

38 Maple Sugaring in the Northern Woods

having large front openings for the escapeof steam and the admission of plenty offresh air. In the center of the buildingstands the evaporator, and this machinemarks the difference between the old andthe new method of making sugar. Nomore kettle hung over a fire built on theground in the open air. No more panset over a stone or brick and, but a long,shallow vat with corrugated bottom setupon a long iron stove. Entering this vatthrough a regulated feeder, the sap flows

In the camp is usually another iron arch,smaller than the one that holds the evapo-rator, designed to hold a deep pan forsugaring-off purposes. When enoughsyrup has been made for a batch, it isplaced in this deep pan and a fire builtunder it. Then is the time when thesugar” maker has plenty of company, forhis message sent around the neighborhood,“We are going to sugar off at two o’clock;come over,” finds plenty to respond.

The syrup in the pan is boiling up a

After a Snow Storm.

down one corrugation and back another beautiful golden brown, with a fragranceuntil it has traversed the entire number, that makes our mouths water. Theboiling furiously all the time, and is drawnoff, a thin, sweet syrup, to be strained

ladies stand about with saucers and spoons,

through felt and set away to cool.and when the sugar is at the consistency

It ispossible to evaporate a much larger quan-

that best pleases them they present thesesaucers to be filled. The men and the

tity of sap by this method than by the oldway; some of the best medicines are guar-

boys sit around on the woodpile, each busy

anteed to evaporate a pailful a minute;with knife and a birch or maple chip, from

and a pailful (fifteen quarts) of sap willwhich they are fashioning paddles, so-

make about a pound of sugar. Sap variescalled, with a deftness born of much prac-

in sweetness, however, and a machine istice, and with evident knowledge thatthere will be use for them later on. The

seldom run to its highest limit, as it requiresan expert to avoid scorching the syrup.

children (there are always children), snow-ball each other outside.

Washing the Buckets and Sap Holders.

Gathering Sap with a “Monitor” Draw Tub.

Gathering Sap with Yoke and Pails.

Maple Sugaring in the Northern Woods 4 1

The master of ceremonies stands besidethe pan with a bottle of sweet cream anda big clipper. When the bubbling sweet-ness threatens to overflow, he throws intoit a few drops of cream and it immediatelyretires to its proper place.

The bubbles become larger, formslower, and break with a little spitefulpuff. “Will it lay on snow?” chorusseveral; and the boys bring buckets ofsnow and some hot sugar is poured overthem. It cools without sinking. It willlay on snow. The boys are now on handwith their paddlers, the children cometrooping in, and the buckets are surroundedby a noisy, saucy group who speedily clearthe snow of any trace of sugar and loudlycall for more. The dipperfuls of sugarthat are cooled on that snow and then dis-appear would drive a stingy man frantic.The man at the pan calls for a twig ofbirch. One is brought him, slender andsupple. He ties the end into a loop andclips it into the boiling sugar until hecatches a film in the loop, then he carefullyblows upon the film, and when he can blowbubbles through the loop the sugar is done.Some test with a sort of thermometerwhich registers the density, but a goodsugar maker can always test with a twig.When this stage is reached, there is muchhurrying and several men step forward tohelp. A crane is fastened on to the handlesof the pan and it is swung away from thefire to a platform. The men, the ladiestoo, gather round, and some stir the masswith huge paddles, others pour it from thebig dipper. The more it is agitated whilecooling, the whiter and finer-grained it willbe. A very popular method of eating thewarm sugar is to dip a big paddle intothe mass, whirl it quickly around severaltimes in the air to prevent it from dripping,and cool it to waxiness, then scrape it offin mouthfuls with a small paddle. A bigsnowball is also used in the same manner.The buckets are kept well covered, andeach one eats his fill in one way or another.

By and by as the sugar begins to coolit begins to grain, or granulate. It is thenturned into tin or wooden pails and leftto harden. The company fall to with thepaddles and “scrape the pan” of the lastremnants; and then go trooping home,usually rather sticky as to hands and face,and dirty as to clothes, but happy as grigsand with appetites for supper that require

instant attention. There is a brisk de-mand for sour pickles at that meal, andno other time when they taste so good.

Boiling at night, as in the old days, is nolonger necessary; but though safely lockedand left alone in the darkness of the woods,the camp is not always free from intruders.It is no unusual thing, when not too farfrom the village, for it to be invaded atnight by a merry band of boys and girlsarmed with lunch baskets. Then hoistedupon the shoulders of a companion,the lightest weight getting in through awindow, opens the camp to his party.Soon the fires are replenished, eggs boiledin the sap, ham roasted over the coalsand syrup filched from the cans to sweetenthe repast. Nothing ever tasted so goodin all the world, and the number of eggsthat under such conditions even one boywill make away with is amazing. If therebe several in a family, the elders are luckyif they succeed in capturing eggs enoughat that season to properly clear theircoffee.

Sometimes the man who looks after theboiling and camp affairs goes out to helpgather sap, leaving the evaporator to tenditself for a time. Usually the last thinghe does is to stuff the stove with wood. Ifhe stays beyond the time the syrup needsdrawing, a smell of burning sugar will beborne through the air to the man out ofplace, while over the neighborhood peoplesniff and remark that somebody is burninghis evaporator.

There are other accidents that are notaccidental and are fortunately of rareoccurrence. A maker sugars off a bigbatch late in the day and leaves severalhundred pounds of sugar and honey lockedin the camp, thinking it safe until it canbe moved next day. In the night a biglight in the woods marks where a camp isburning; but there is no smell of burntsugar this time in the air.

Sap does not run every day, but only in“sap weather” as described. Sometimesthere comes a cold, stormy time, lasting aweek or ten days, through which the treeswill be frozen and no sap run.

The old sugar makers divide the seasoninto “runs” some of which are character-ized as follows: a “robin run,” after therobins come; a “frog run,” after thefrogs begin their nightly chorus; and a“bud run,” after the leaf buds begin to

Sugaring-off Arch, and Pan Swung Off the Fire—Ready for the Scraping.

swell. They also expect a good run everytime the moon changes, they some-times get badly left, but will always ex-plain satisfactorily to themselves, at least,why the sign failed that particular time.

The product of the last, or “bud run,”is usually very dark, very high flavored,

and will not grain. Dip a paddle into itand begin to wind, and one can wind untilthe tub is empty, unless one takes con-siderable pains to break the waxy thread.When there is such a tub of sugar in thehouse there is usually a paddle or a a spoonnear at hand, and it is often visited by the

Filling the Cans with Maple Honey.

Maple Sugaring in the Northern Woods 4 3

different members of the family, moreparticularly the boys. There is littleof that quality manufactured nowadays.The seasons have changed largely andthere is usually no sap after the robinsmake their appearance; and none is savedafter the buds start. The season’s makeis nearly uniform in quality, very light incolor, and of delicious flavor. It variesin quantity from one to three pounds to a

leaf area and freedom from insect ravages.From two per cent. to four per cent. of thetotal sugar present is removed during thesugar season by the ordinary method oftapping, though it varies with climaticconditions. If we consider three poundsof sugar the tree a good yield, there musthave been about one hundred pounds ofsugar present. Maple sap averages, say,three per cent. sugar, so the tree would

Waiting for the Sap to Run.

tree. The first is a small yield, the last a contain some thirty-three hundred pound?good one. Vermont sugar orchards vary of sap.in size from five hundred to two thousand As to this—I remember a family liv-trees, and the season lasts about four ing on a farm where there was no sugarweeks. The per cent. of sugar which place. They had in their yard a mam-could be taken from a maple tree, without moth maple tree, whose wide-spreadinginjury, cannot be definitely stated. It top drooped its branches over a large area.would depend on many conditions, notably The woman of the house conceived thewhether the previous summer was favor- idea of cutting the ends from twigs andable to growth and consequent storage of hanging gourd-shells under them. Withstarch, from which the sugar is formed, the children’s help she soon had the old

There are always plenty of helpers at the sugaring off.

tree decorated like a Christmas evergreen,and during the season she made fifty poundsof sugar from that one tree, and the treenone the worse for it that any one could see.

Much of the product is put up in galloncans as maple honey. It is of a paleamber color, clear as crystal, and of apeculiar flavor that no one who has evertasted the genuine article will mistake.A large proportion of the “Pure VermontMaple Honey” put upon the marketnever saw a Vermont sugar place. Inproof of my statement I cite the fact thatsigns advertising “New Vermont MapleHoney” will be displayed in city grocerywindows while Vermont is still buriedto her chin in snow and ice. Last year’stub sugar is melted over and largely adul-

terated with glucose and sold for the realthing.

The sugar output has not been so largeas usual for the past three years, owinglargely to the damage done the sugarmaples by the forest worm; but the wormswere not so numerous least year and a goodsugar season is predicted for the presentseason.

Maple sugar making is a more exten-sive industry than might at first be sup-posed, the annual output of the countrybeing 51,000,000 pounds, with 3,000,000gallons of honey; of this Vermont, smallthough she is, furnish more than anyother State. Over seventeen per cent. ofthe granulated sugar produced in thiscountry comes from maple sugar.

Scattering Buckets.