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With her eyes on the ground, their grandmother walked quietly from place to place
along the shore. She seemed to be looking for something.
"Etsi, what are you doing?" asked Peter.
"I'm starving!" said John.
"Here it is" their grandmother said as she bent down beside some old, curled pieces
of birch bark. The kids ran over to see her.
"I remember coming to this place when
I was about your age. It was fall time and our whole family was travelling north
in birch bark canoes to spend the winter trapping. One of our canoes had a tear
in it. We took some birch bark from that tree over there to fix it." As she pointed,
the cousins looked at a stand of birch trees. They could see a tree with a huge
black scar where the bark had been carefully peeled away. The tree was still alive!
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