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Subject: Fwd: aunt Charlotte's book (starting a fire)
Date: Wed, 3 Dec 1997 01:21:46 -0500 (EST)


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Date: 97-12-03 01:09:27 EST

I remember the first cook stove that I ever saw. I had gone on a visit and
I saw something in the corner that looked to me like a chair. I did not think
much of it, but I was polite, and sat on it without making any comment. Of
course, there was no fire in it, thou it was still slightly warm. I noticed
that, and wondered about it, till finally one of the older ones said:
"Lottie, do you know that you are sitting on the stove?" Dear me! but I was
deeply mortified, it entirely spoiled my visit. It was what was called a
bench stove, the top was built on two levels, two holes above and two below,
and I still contend that it really looked like a chair. It was a distressing
incident that I was a long time forgetting.

Kindling a fire was quite a different matter from what it is these days.
Matches were unheard of when I was a little girl. They may have had such
things where civilization was, but they were unknown to us.

The usual way to start a fire was to rub bits of powder into some lint or
shreds of tow (the course and broken part of flax or hemp). A piece of cotton
rag would do quite nicely, but rags of any kind were very scarce. The rag or
tow was held against a piece of flint in the left hand. The right hand held a
piece of steel. the trick in starting a fire was to strike the flint with the
steel in such a way that the resulting spark would explode the grains of
powder on the rag. Sometimes, in place of rags, or lint, or tow, we used the
flakes of punk as light as thistle down that we took from rotting trees or
logs, spunk, I called it till long after I was old enough to have known
better.

As I tell it now, it sounds very simple, but it was really quite a trick. I
found it easier to just sprinkle some powder on a rag and lay it on the lid
of our dutch oven, then give the lid a bit of a tap with the butcher knife,
not too hard, just a glancing blow made careless like. pouff! and you could
start as good a fire as anyone could wish for. I do not know whether or not I
could do it now. I fancy I could thou for I know exactly how it is done.

Another way was to place a bit of rag in a gun barrel, ramming it in on a
small charge of powder, then shoot it on to the ground, it would come out a
blazing ball of fire, with kindling handy, there was a fine fire for anyone
who chose to do it that way. It was not considered a very skillful method
thou, and was used mostly by those too clumsy to handle a flint and steel,
beside that the gun barrel must be carefully wiped out afterwards.

I've seen old women who smoked their pipes, carry a ball of fire in their
pockets. I've seen many a patch in a calico skirt that marked the place where
a pocket hung.

They would take a long narrow strip of cloth, get the one end well alight
and charred, then wrap the strip of cloth into a tight ball with the
smouldering end in the center. This all could be unrolled from time to time
as a light was needed, then rewrapped to be returned to the pocket. This did
very well where one was not forgetful, otherwise a patch, sometimes even a
poultice, was apt to be needed.

My Aunt Rachel smoked a pipe. she loved to talk. I think now that she must
have been a rather brilliant talker, for everyone loved to listen to her. She
was always lighting her pipe. It worried Mother and she scolded Rachel about
it. Mother did not smoke.

Walt Davies
Monmouth, OR

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