Sign up for the paNOW newsletter

Growing up on the trap lines with Bella Sanderson

Feb 15, 2017 | 2:00 PM

February is Indigenous story telling month. To honour this month, paNOW will speak with First Nations Elders and leaders, and share their stories with you. To read our first two installments, click here or here

 

Not everyone is cut out for the city life.  

For people like Bella Sanderson, an Elder from the Lac La Ronge Indian Band, she feels the most grounded far from civilization, in her cabin deep in the woods.

Today, she resides in La Ronge, but spent much of her youth with her seven sisters and seven brothers on the trap lines.

She said the most valuable lesson she learned on the lines was survival.

“There was a lot of people out there who didn’t really know what to do when they got out there,” Sanderson said. “There’s times when they came to our place to see if we could give them something [to eat] because they were out of food.”

Sanderson admitted to learning the ropes the hard way; by being unsuccessful, even embarrassing herself in the process. She recalled a time when she needed the help of her brother to fix her lines.

“We weren’t doing something right,” Sanderson said. “We’d catch animals but then they get away. The traps were not holding them.”

She showed her brother how she set up a trap, which included covering it with toilet paper. She thought she was being clever as it would blend in with the snow.

“He looks and me and says, ‘what kind of trapper are you, ass-wipe trapper?’” Sanderson said with a laugh. “He said, ‘you’re not supposed to use toilet paper, you use grass.’”

Sanderson spoke fondly of her father, denoting a close relationship. She remembered her father teaching her and her sisters to shoot. He had set up some snowmen as targets for the girls to learn how to handle a .22, a rifle and a shotgun. The shotgun gave Sanderson the most trouble of the three.

“The shotgun, god that kicks,” she said quietly. “My dad says ‘hold it tight,’ so there I was just holding it as tight as I could holding it this way.”

Sanderson mimicked holding a gun, but with the stock against her midsection instead of her shoulder.

“I shot and I went flying. I landed flat on my bum,” Sanderson said with a laugh. “I was so scared, I thought I was dead, then I opened my eyes and saw my dad and he says ‘come on, get up,’… He pulled me up and gave me another shell.”

She recalled another story of her dad, this time as somewhat of a pioneer. She said he was the first person in La Ronge to own a snowmobile. It may not have been as fast as modern day sleds, but she said the locals “went crazy” at the sight of the snow machine.

“I know my dad used to treat his skidoo like dogs. He’d stop and rest his machine, because that’s what you do with dogs, you don’t just keep going and going forever,” Sanderson said. “They used to laugh at him.”

Tragedy strikes

Sometime after Sanderson went off at 14 to school in Prince Albert, her family’s cabin burned down. She said she cried when she was told of the incident. None of the family was harmed in the blaze, but there were some close calls.

Sanderson’s mother was trapped in the fire after she tried to save her belongings. The door closed after she ran in, leaving her trapped inside. She was saved when a family member kicked the door in.  

One of her brothers was asleep in the house and wasn’t aware of the blaze. He was rescued from the house through a broken window.

Life today

At 79, she still finds time to make her way to her cabin the woods. She said she hasn’t trapped for 10 or 15 years as leg problems have prevented her from snowshoeing in the deep snow.

She said she’s not cut out for “city life” because she feels too “closed in.”

On New Year’s Eve, she asked her son to take her to the cabin. She spent two days in deep contemplation away from distractions, and the hectic pace of everyday life.

“It’s nice to get out there like that, you do a lot of thinking.”   

 

Bryan.Eneas@jpbg.ca

On Twitter: @BryanEneas