One reason why we decided to tan rabbit pelts with the children is because of the access we have to a local rabbit farm. Another attractive feature is their size, which is small enough for the tanning project to be a reasonable undertaking. We presented the kids with the hides (already skinned from the rabbits) and had each of them stretch their pelts flesh-side-out over a short section of round log to use as a fleshing and scraping surface.
Step two: fleshing
This is the part where you test how much the students really want to learn this skill. When the hide comes off the animal various amounts of fat and flesh come with it. This stuff has to come off in order to progress. We used a variety of fleshing tools: some made from antler, stone, hard wood, and even our hands. Some kids saved the fat pieces from their hides to use as fuel for their fat burning stone lamps. They all agreed that this was the grossest part of the entire process.

Step three: scraping
In order for the dressing to thoroughly coat the fiber structure of the hides (the dermis), the thin membrane from the flesh side (the hypodermis) needs to be scraped off. We used the same tools that were utilized in the fleshing process, although now it was more of a challenge to keep the young tanners methodical and persistent enough to effectively remove the membrane. This is the stage of the process that the kids received the most help from the instructors, mostly because it was difficult to see the membrane layer and they were just then gaining experience with the scraping tools for the first time. Once the hides were more or less scraped, the children used sand paper to lightly buff the entire hide, paying special attention to the places that were stubborn to scrape.
Step four: dressing
The dressing substance needs to be emulsified oil. Traditionally people used brains mashed up and mixed with warm water for tanning hides. We used chicken eggs as our dressing, which have been used for this purpose for ages. A dozen eggs beaten and mixed with a half gallon of warm water was enough for fourteen rabbit hides to get two applications. The kids took turns with the paint brushes as they applied the egg dressing onto their dry scraped hides, being careful not to get any egg into the fur. As the hides moistened they were worked with the hands in order to expose the fibers of the dermis to the oils in the dressing. The hides were worked this way until dry, and then the dressing was reapplied.
Step five: stitching
For many of the kids this was the first time they had threaded a needle. Each of the holes that had appeared in the hides (some from over scraping) were stitched closed using a simple whip stitch. The craftsmanship clearly improved with the sewing of each hole.
Step six: stretching
With the holes all sewn up the stretching process began. We fired up the wood stove in the barn and each student pulled and tugged on their hides in opposing directions until they were dry and velvety soft. At this point the project was nearing its end and the kids could directly appreciate the transformation that was occurring.
Step seven: smoking
In order to seal the deal, the rabbit hides needed to be smoked. When the smoke from punky wood is forced through the hide, the fibers of the dermis are coated with resins that finalize the transformation. Our smoking station was composed of a metal bucket with 6 inches of hardwood coals in it, an overhead line of cordage about 10 feet high, and an old pair of denim pants for the buffer skirt. The hides were stitched together into two furry tubes, each stitched to the cuff of each pant leg. The other end of the hide tubes were tied off to the overhead line for suspension. The waistline of the pants was sealed over the rim of the metal bucket after a fresh layer of punky wood was added to produce smoke. The kids watched and listened attentively for flames, and added more punky wood when needed. After 20 minutes or so the hides were finished smoking and the tanning process was completed.
After thoughts:
It was an ambitious project to have a group of kids (age 8-13) each tan their own rabbit hide. Keeping their attention span’s focused on the completion of the project began to be a challenge for some, particularly during the scraping process. However, each student’s enthusiasm was rekindled once the stretching was complete, and the hides changed texture from wet and slimy, to soft and velvety. Each step of the way became its own curriculum: providing opportunities to develop skills and experience with stone tools, needle and thread, the anatomy of a mammal hide, natural history of the lagomorphs, and possibly the most valuable lesson being that persistence and hard work can pay off in great ways.
The first time I saw and heard a big glassy flake of obsidian driven from a core I knew I was doomed. Over the last ten years that ‘doom’ has been the search for making that sound, that clean hard pop, as the millions of tiny bonds holding the rock together let go in a clean shockwave and release the flake I need. Each strike over this time has been and experiment, each experiment has brought me closer to understanding the variables that decide if you get that clean flake, or if you get a chattered and step fractured mess. There is magic in that sound, that clean flake and the clean edges of dangerous sharpness is leaves on both the detached flake and the core. That magic has given human beings their oldest tools, and is at the heart of millions of years of human and pre-human life.
Knapping is about taking good flakes, and good flakes are not mysterious, although sometimes they may seem to be so. Good flakes are what makes a good arrow head, spear point, or knife. Good flakes are everything. Simple, yet elusive, the variable that can take you there can be controlled, you can set yourself up for success, but you have to know how to do it, and you have to know where you are trying to go. Thanks to piles of hours in various knapping pits, basements, barns, and out the back of my truck or even in the front seat on one desperate occasion while traveling, I have really started to see it and feel it. I am proficient...not a master, but proficient none the less, and after all these years really starting to own the skill.
A lot of good and some truly exceptional knappers have passed on knowledge and experience to me and I have not forgotten my first days in the pit in
After working systematically through 30 bifaces applying new techniques and dropping the ones that don't work for me, I put together a new system for myself. Now, I am producing work that, at least to me, is dramatically different. Edges are straighter, thinner, sharper, overall point thickness is reduced, flake scar patterns cleaner, surfaces smoother....
Knapping has been a long road for me so far. From my start at the Tracker School years ago, to mad dashes to the Glass Buttes in cars not meant to handle 500 lbs of obsidian, to years of personal trial and error learning, to moments with amazing knappers like Tim Dillard that opened my mind to new ways of looking at the skill, and finally, lately to hang with someone whose 50 years knapping and insane level of workmanship cannot be disputed. It has been long and fun, and there has been a lot of cursing mixed with important lessons.
Knapping has also opened my eyes to prehistoric timelines, geologic times lines, and a deeper understanding of what it means to live and work with stone tools. As my knapping has improved, and with the addition of pecking and grinding, stone tools have become a much more common part of the variety of other skills we work on at Roots. Being able to quickly produce fifteen hide scrapers for the children’s program students to use to scrape their rabbit hides with allowed us to test five different models of scrapers and settle on which ones we liked most. For those planning to use stone tools to tan a rabbit pelt: (It turned out to be a semi scooped flake about the size of a big potato chip, with unifacially sharpened edges, tight flaking with small teeth left on, and one wide round side and one thinner, finger sized edge.)
By Nick Neddo
The more you know, the less you need”. –Some smart person
I think curiosity taught the cat. It is our curiosity that can inspire us to need to learn or understand something. Consider the function of play in the life of any adolescent mammal. The youth recklessly explores the environment with all senses peaked, seeming to waste the precious calories that the parents provide for them, even in the face of starvation. With such a lean energy budget (in the form of calories) why would the parent mammal tolerate such reckless use of precious resources? The parent knows that as the young mammal explores it gradually develops the skills it needs in order to provide for itself and its offspring. Compare this life training with the 6 hours per day, 5 days per week, for 12 years of industrial schooling that most of us received. Before we left adolescence, how many of us learned to find or provide shelter; locate, filter and purify water; make fire with friction, percussion or compression; and find and prepare food and medicine on the landscape in which we live? How many of us learned how to grow food and protect the soils from erosion? How many of us gained the skills to thoroughly research something for the sake of learning?


In the times we live in today the trend is that people are learning less practical skills than the generation before them, and skills that are learned tend to be so specialized that they are virtually useless outside of their context. As a people our very thinking skills have gone to atrophy as each generation is pumped through the factory farm that is our Prussian-style industrial schooling complex. An ability to solve problems with keen observation and critical thinking skills along with an inquisitive mind is central to our success as a critter. Today it seems that we have become so far removed from our abilities to meet every day needs that we now rely on “experts” to give us the answers and services that we need in order to function.
Perhaps it is out of resistance to this trend of human domestication that I love to learn new skills. Or maybe I like the feeling of strength and security that the addition of a new skill offers me. Recall how you felt when you first rode your bike, balancing on two wheels? Perhaps it is simply the thrill of learning. There is a good reason why Homo sapiens are hard wired to be awesome at it.
More on this later.