The gathering in Port Hope appeared Masonic with appropriate decor and decorum. The brethren and visitors to Ontario Lodge No. 26 were properly attired with jackets and ties and Masonic aprons.

But the degree team--------their apparel was unique. They appeared in dayglo-orange kevlar vests with matching peak caps. (Some had hunting licenses glued or sewn between the shoulder blades.) Others wore red and black checked bush shirts or camouflage jackets with multiple pockets. Clashing tartans were reminiscent of the field at Culloden. Buckskin pullovers came with or without the dangling fringes. Trousers were chiefly denim, mostly baggy, and with commodious steerage in the stern.

The shoes weren’t dainty either. Kodiak klunkers with snow-tire treads laced, in hunter fashion, to the half-mast position. Or hiking boots with wrap-around laces.

The lodge was holding, for the fifty-eighth time, its annual Hunters Lodge. No one but hunters from the district occupied the Chairs or performed the work. John Murray, an entered apprentice, was passed to the second degree with total propriety by these men of the field and forest. Their fancy dress did nothing to dilute the dignity or quality of the evening.

Of course there’s a story behind all this

LEAN TIMES

The later 1920's were Depression Time. Work was short in the 1920's, money was scarce, work unavailable and some tables were bare. It was Depression time. Shuter Haskill had just been installed as Master of Ontario Lodge. Understand that in lean times, country folk had an advantage. The countryside around Port Hope had its own bounty of venison, moose, grouse, or even rabbit. When "commercial meat" was too expensive, poached deer (known as Ontario County beef) graced the table. That’s part of the reason so many residents were hunters.

Shuter and the boys in his hunting camp were practicing degree work after a day of hunting. An inspiration hatched around the evening campfire. "This is great. Why not do a hunting degree in lodge?" As for the festive table, serving game tied in with the economic realities of the time. It was worth a try.

Delicacies in the early years included everything that would fit in the pot. Beaver tail soup. Muskrat stew. As beaver and muskrat populations declined, bear started filling the pot. One year the candidate provided fish for the feed, a bit of a change.

CHANGING TIMES

In recent years urban sprawl and agribusiness have cut down on the availability of game. Around 1817, when the settlement was originally called "Toronto", The Act for the Preservation of Salmon curtailed river netting. When the town was founded in 1850, a closed season was declared on wild turkeys and grouse, shortly followed by swans and geese. When the lodge was instituted in 1847, the daily quota of ducks was set at 30, with total possession 300. Today it’s a five duck daily limit with a maximum possession of ten. Salmon have returned to the streams, thanks to stocking, and wild turkeys have been reintroduced and hunters are promoting the rehabilitation of wetlands. But big game is scarce. .

The paucity of game was evident for the first time this year. In past years the men ate their fill and leftover venison stew went home in plastic margarine buckets. This time everyone had a taste game, but beef stew was necessary to round out the plates. The situation made for discussion, probably similar to that around Shuter’s campfire.

HUNTERS’ TALK

"It’s been a great year for deer."

"Don’t tell me that. We’ve been as far as Kirkland Lake and we got skunked."

"Why don’t we try groundhog. Farmers happy if you shoot them. Cows trip in the burrows and break their legs you know."

"Groundhog? Who’d eat groundhog?"

"Hey, if it’s in a stew, who’d notice the difference? It’s not like they’re unclean animals. They eat grass and clover, same as cows."

"We could try a special hunt for the pot, going after deer up north."

"No deer up there either."

"You’re kidding There’s more dead by the side of the road than live in the bush."

"Think we could serve road kill?"

(Pause for laughter.)

"Hey, you didn’t have to buy beef. If you’d asked me, I’ve got some venison in the freezer."

"Me too."

"How many rabbits would it take to feed a lodge?"

"Forget it. Besides, rabbit’s dry."

FUTURE FEASTS

There’s no doubt Hunters’ Lodge will be held again next winter, and the pot will be full. It’s a tradition for the lodge, the district, the town, and Shuter’s family. Two of his sons served as Worshipful Master of Ontario Lodge and the third, John, is still a regular attender. This year he sent his regrets. At 94 years of age he broke his hip and couldn’t make it, but says he’ll be there next year with a hip replacement.

The temple in Port Hope is worth a visit. George Garret, a past master, designed the lodge building along with schools and public buildings in Ontario country. It’s very much English design, reflecting his background. You might be interested in the hand-carved wooden chairs for officers. The anteroom has pictures of Edward when he was Prince of Wales and hi young brother Albert, Duke of York, before he became George VI. Both were wearing Masonic regalia.

The artifact that attracted my attention was a photo of a deserted railway bridge, forlorn in a pasture. Both approaches eroded away but the abutments still stood, and the arch was firm. It was built in the mid 1850's by forgotten operative masons. The keystone was removed and now sits under the photograph. The weathered square and compasses engraved in bas-relief indicate that the operative craftsman was a brother.

-end-