At thirty nine years of age, he could not believe the good fortune he had in finding this beautiful, secluded tract of land. Why by all accounts, the closest neighbors were more than forty miles away, and as far as his eyes could see, there were trees and thick forests, and all the wildlife they harbored.
Though Spring had just arrived a few weeks ago, he knew he had to get a jump on things before the next Winter. Winters in Northern wisconsin could be quite cruel for the unprepared, and any help from outsiders would be futile should a predicament arise. On the other side of the coin however, Winters in this part of the country were also some of the most beautiful that Mother Nature could provide.
His tools were few; a hammer, saw, shovel, chopping ax, various screws and nails, an old fashioned hunting bow, some steel files, and three large wood planers. These were the tools he needed to build underground containers for storing food during the cold Winter months. One of the reasons this area appealed to him was the bountiful supply of wild animals. Having been taught early in life never to rush things, he began his preparations before the fist of Winter approached.
Day after day he chopped, sawed, and planed trees into much smoother slabs of wood. With these slabs , he shaped them into roughly formed doors. These were then used to line the deep holes he was able to dig into the warming, moist earth. When all four sides were lined, he would finish the container with a top door to seal it off and protect the contents when it was filled. A small layer of top dirt would complete the project. This is Nature's way of refrigerating food. Also, if the need be, it could also protect him if need be. The whole process to biuld one container took about three weeks. with four to build, he had plenty of time, but none to waste.
In late August, the last nail was pounded in. Leaning on his shovel, he admired the four patches of fresh dirt and grinned in satisfaction. He would be ready this Winter, and just in time as the cold winds of November brought the first snowstorm of the season. With temperatures dropping into the thirties, he knew it was time.
Carrying his ax, he began the trek towards the cabin. Soft and sure were his footfalls as he walked the path he had walked many times before in his trial runs.
"Careful preparations make for better rewards," he thought to himself.
It was a good two miles through some dense, snow covered forest when he caught sight of the cabin. The billowy smoke rising from the stone chimney against the dull, blue-gray sky captured a perfect Country scene, sorta Norman Rockwell-ish. Thgis made him smile softly.
Inside, he knew the family of four were preparing for dinner. Through a close study, he knew their habits very well. He cautiously crept to the main window and peered in. The mother was stirring a pot of stew of some sort, while the father sat comfortably in a big oversized lounge chair. The two little children played with toys.
"How perfect!" He thought.
Sliding down with his back against the side of the cabin, he drew his coat tighter to his body for warmth. He reasoned that he needed plenty of food to get through the Winter. He rose again in a few minutes and peered once more through the window. He saw the family sitting at the dinner tableenjoying their meal.
"It's time," he thought.
Taking a firm grip on the ax handle, he casually walked to the front door and gave a flurry of light knocks. He knew the element of surprise was in his favor. He also knew that the strongest needed to go down first, and the others would meekly follow. He needed those food containers filled because this was going to be a very bad Winter.
"Careful preparations make for better rewards," he said to himself as the front door opened.