Tales of an Empty Cabin

Trevor S. Raymond is a teacher and librarian with the Peel Board of Education and editor of Canadian Holmes.

“I am Wa-Sha-Quon-Asin, Grey Owl, North American Indian, champion of
the Little People of the Forest.” So began a BBC radio talk written by
the author of this book when it was a bestseller more than 60 years ago.
But in 1938, when he died suddenly in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan, the
world learned what only a very few had known: not only was Grey Owl not
an Apache–Scot half-breed (his word), he was not even North American.
He was Archie Belaney, and he hailed from England.

Tales of an Empty Cabin (1936) was the last of his four books, but it
is not as good as his best, Pilgrims of the Wild. The writing is less
polished, occasionally seeming clumsy or forced, and some of the
paragraphs go on for well over a page. But for the most part, it is a
well-written and engaging work. Some of the writing is folksy and
conversational, some elegiac and moving, some serious and laced with
easy allusions to Dickens or the Bible or Longfellow. Tales is a
collection of essays and stories. The longest, “The Tree,” was
subsequently published in England as a short novella. It tells the story
of a giant pine tree from the time a squirrel accidentally drops an
acorn, thereby starting the tree on its long life, through nearly seven
centuries culminating in destruction for a highway. The book contains
memorable portraits of Grey Owl’s fellow rivermen and delightful
anecdotes about his friends, both human and animal. Above all, it is a
powerful environmental imploration. Tales makes a passionate case for
preserving the great forests and all their wildlife.

Perhaps Grey Owl’s fervent entreaty was ahead of its time, but it may
never have been more relevant than now. We should be grateful to see
this Canadian classic back in print in a handsome, sturdy trade
paperback edition with French flaps.