TO BUILD A
FIRE
Day HAD BROKEN cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man
turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a
dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland.
It was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, excusing the act to
himself by looking at his watch. It was nine o'clock. There was no sun nor hint
of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky. It was a clear day, and yet
there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that
made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun. This fact did not
worry the man. He was used to the lack of sun. It had been days since he had
seen the sun, and he knew that a few more days must pass before that cheerful
orb, due south, would just peep above the sky-line and dip immediately from
view.
To BUILD A FIRE by Jack London is certainly a
cautionary tale about being out in winter weather and your ability to build a
fire. If you haven’t read the
whole tale, simply google the name and the short story is
easily found and read online.
Well, can a modern day mountain man (or mountain boy or girl) build a fire
with just a single match and what they can find? Its always
interesting to find out. And each
winter we try to expose the 6th grade to this task during a field trip.
I like to first allow the students to attempt fire by themselves without
any instruction except for the promise of 1 match.
Early efforts are always interesting as students try different found
materials, and match techniques. Its a rare group
that manages a fire their first attempt, though it does on occasion
happen. The most common effort
starts with too large a stick, and the hope that touching a lighted match to it
will cause it to burst into flame.
The occasional flash of brilliance to gather dead dry grass and heaping
quantities happens and a fire is born.
Lets look back to Jack’s story and see
what his character does…..when the need for a fire suddenly presents
itself (in 70 below temperature)
On top, tangled in the underbrush about the trunks of
several small spruce trees, was a high-water deposit of dry
fire-wood—sticks and twigs, principally, but also larger portions of
seasoned branches and fine, dry, last-year's grasses. He threw down several
large pieces on top of the snow. This served for a foundation and prevented the
young flame from drowning itself in the snow it otherwise would melt. The flame
he got by touching a match to a small shred of birch-bark that he took from his
pocket. This burned even more readily than paper. Placing it on the foundation,
he fed the young flame with wisps of dry grass and with the tiniest dry twigs
After the students first normally failed attempt, I show
them that a match will produce flame from dead dry sticks provided the sticks
are match size or smaller. And
because societal devolution has robbed boys of the ability to carry and use a
pocket knife, none know to shave thin strips from larger branches in the
absence of small or dry sticks.
I also show them that there are other materials in the
woods to be found that burn quite redially, though green spruce needles do not
(a commonly used student item, they reason a forest fire burns them quite
well).
If flame can be coaxed from the single match, and it can
feed tiny and then successively larger twigs, it always seems to surprise
students how many sticks it takes to feed a good fire, and how much work it is
to maintain that fire. Its somewhat common to get a small fire that quickly runs
out of fuel.
The average after a demonstration is about half of those
who try can get a fire going.
The fire building was cold last week and though not
nearly of the same level as our story, certainly cold enough to numb fingers
and toes in the brief time we worked.
Jack’s
character was a newcomer in the land, a chechaquo and this was his first
winter. But alas, winter up north
has little patience for the inept.
High up in the tree one bough capsized its load of snow. This fell on the
boughs beneath, capsizing them. This process continued, spreading out and
involving the whole tree. It grew like an avalanche, and it descended without
warning upon the man and the fire, and the fire was blotted out! Where it had
burned was a mantle of fresh and disordered snow.
The man was shocked, it was though he had just
heard his own sentence of death.