Is it just me, or is the nessmuk just a plain knife with a funny humpback on it?

I think it's, pretty plain that Nessmuk considered it a food prep/eating utensil. His bushcraft "knife" seems to have been his hatchet.
 
tknife said:
He comes across as pretentious in some of his stories. Could come from too much time in the woods, away from people.

I'm not doubting his abilities, just his personality.
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I've read him and agree with you whole heartedly. He seemed to love to not share any knowledge just to be able to say "I told you so" later. I also heard that he left his wife and child literally begging in the streets while he played in the woods, although I don't have a source for it.

I like the Nessmuk style knife though, even though it doesn't have a choil . It is comfortable, and the hump is a nice resting spot for my forefinger. The width works great for some tasks, but not so good for others.
 
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sodak said:
I've read him and agree with you whole heartedly. He seemed to love to not share any knowledge just to be able to say "I told you so" later. .
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The book was written in the late 1800's so you have to sort of take into consideration the culture at the time. ;)
 
hollowdweller said:
The book was written in the late 1800's so you have to sort of take into consideration the culture at the time. ;)
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That's probably true. It's really hard to get context when the culture was so different back then. I admit I tend to be hard on him at times...
 
He has always seemed like an asthmatic tool to me. Pretty self-righteous in most regards. But no one's going to be reading anything I wrote in 200 years, anyway.

I do agree with a lot of his perspectives on minimalism and regarding wilderness ventures as a relaxing event.
 
Another pic of our man and a link to his poems

Nessmuk.jpg


http://www.zianet.com/jgray/nessmuk/forest_runes/title_page.html

It is only the born woods crank who can enjoy going to the depths of a lonely forest with a heavy rifle and stinted rations, season after season, to camp alone for weeks at a stretch, in a region as dreary and desolate as—Broadway on a summer afternoon in May.

It is only the descendants of Ananias who are always meeting with hair-breadth escapes and startling adventures on their hunting trips. To the practical, skilled woodsman, their wonderful stories bear the plain imprint of lies. He knows that the deep forest is more safe than the most orderly town; and that there is more danger in meeting one “bridge gang” than there would be in meeting all the wild animals in New York or Pennsylvania.

These facts will explain why I have so little to relate in the way of adventure, though my aggregate of camp-life, most of it alone, will foot up at least 12 years.

I can scarcely recall a dozen adventures from as many years’ outings, culled from the cream of fifty seasons. Incidents of woods life, and interesting ones, are of almost daily occurrence; and these, to the ardent lover of nature, form the attraction of forest life in a far greater degree than does the brutal love of slaughter for the mere pleasure of killing something just because it is alive.

Just here my literary Mentor and Stentor, who has been coolly going through my MSS., remarks sententiously, “Better throw this stuff into the stove and start off with your biography. That is what the Editor wants.” I answer vaguely, “Story? Lord bless you; I have none to tell, sir. Alas! there is so little in an ordinary, humdrum life that is worth the telling. And there is such a wilderness of biographies and autobiographies that no one cares to read.”
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You might consider he was writing for FOREST AND STREAM at the time, and purporting to be the "old forester", giving sage advice to the city-bound and uneducated of the period. Condescension and a certain pomposity accompanying his "know-it-all" tone may have been part of the writing style of the published experts of the era, AND, he may have been juxtaposed with safari-level experts, with pith helmets and bearers. :)

He's certainly guilty of "puffery" and self-advertisement, but he used his ?reputation? to get free lodging at the Adirondack resorts and keep himself fed.

The quality of his writing aside, one can take great advantage of his perspective on "outing" and in this more diffuse society, use it to some great benefit in minimalism without sacrificing comfort or well being.

In short, he may have been a tool, but he added a lot to the knowledge base and distribution of concepts for a lot of people, over a long period of time.

As for the knife design? Hell, we all have too many knives. If it worked for him, fine. Kephart's worked for him, and the Finns' and Lapps' worked for them. In our world of plenty, we have so many options that others have never had. If nothing else, the Nessie gives skilled knifemakers a chance to demonstrate their talents.

That's a good thing.





Kis
enjoy every sandwich
 
Here's a bit more on why he chose the name Nessmuk:

The word Nepmuk, or, as it is sometimes spelled, Nepmug, means Wood-duck. This, in the obsolete lingo of the once powerful Narragansetts. The best Indian of the band was “Injun Levi,” as the whites called him. He was known among his tribe as “Nessmuk;” and I think he exerted a stronger influence on my future than any other man. As a fine physical specimen of the animal man I have seldom seen his equal. As a woodsman and a trusty friend he was good as gold; but he could not change the Indian nature that throbbed in every vein and filled his entire being. Just here I can not do better than reproduce a sketch of him and his tribe which appeared in the columns of Forest and Stream in December, 1881. I will add that Junkamaug is only a corruption of the Indian name, and the other names I give as I had them from the Indians themselves:

“…And I remain yours sincerely, Nessmuk, which means in the Narragansett tongue, or did mean, as long as there were any Narragansetts to give tongue, Wood-duck, or rather, Wood-drake.

“Also, it was the name of the athletic young brave, who was wont to steal me away from home before I was five years old, and carry me around Nepmug and Junkamaug lakes, day after day, until I imbibed much of his woodcraft, all his love for forest life, and alas, much of his good-natured shiftlessness.

“Even now my blood flows faster as I think of the rides I had on his well-formed shoulders, a little leg on either side of his neck, and a death-grip on his strong, black mane; or rode, ‘belly-bumps’ on his back across old Junkamaug, hugging him tightly around the neck, like a selfish little egotist that I was. He tire? He drown? I would as soon have thought to tire a wolf or drown a whale. At first, these excursions were not fairly concluded without a final settlement at home—said settlement consisting of a head-raking with a fine-toothed comb that left my scalp raw, and a subsequent interview, of a private nature, with ‘Par’ behind the barn, at which a yearling apple tree sprout was always a leading factor. (My blood tingles a little at that recollection too.)

“Gradually they came to understand that I was incorrigible, or, as a maiden aunt of the old school put it, ‘given over;’ and, so that I did not run away from school, I was allowed to ‘run with them dirty Injuns,’ as the aunt aforesaid expressed it.

“But I did run away from school, and books of the dry sort, to study the great book of nature. Did I lose by it? I can not tell, even now. As the world goes, perhaps yes. No man can transcend his possibilities.

“I am no believer in the supernatural: mesmerism, spiritualism, and a dozen other ’isms are, to me, but as fetish. But, I sometimes ask myself, did the strong, healthy, magnetic nature of that Indian pass into my boyish life, as I rode on his powerful shoulders, or slept in his strong arms beneath the soft whispering pines of ‘Douglas Woods?’

“Poor Nessmuk! Poor Lo! Fifty years ago the remnant of that tribe numbered thirty-six, housed, fed and clothed by the state. The same number of Dutchmen, under the same conditions, would have over-run the state ere this.

“The Indians have passed away forever; and, when I tried to find the resting place of my old friend, with the view of putting a plain stone above his grave, no one could point out the spot.

“And this is how I happen to write over the name by which he was known among his people, and the reason why a favorite dog or canoe is quite likely to be called Nessmuk.”
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forest-stream-1885-1.jpg
 
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My first Nessmuk...
 

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Handle is the very modern dymonwood, steel is tool steel from a large two man handsaw that might date to over 100 years ago...
Years ago this is how I got started, taking hand saws and making knives from them. When I want to make a design I haven't made before I go back to what I am familure with.
It is razor sharp and thin, I was slicing through 10oz leather like it was butter.

I looked at lots of nessie's before I built this one, and I really like the deep bellied ones, and then I dropped the back of the handle to continue the flow...
 
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charlieridge said:
Handle is the very modern dymonwood, steel is tool steel from a large two man handsaw that might date to over 100 years ago...
Years ago this is how I got started, taking hand saws and making knives from them. When I want to make a design I haven't made before I go back to what I am familure with.
It is razor sharp and thin, I was slicing through 10oz leather like it was butter.

I looked at lots of nessie's before I built this one, and I really like the deep bellied ones, and then I dropped the back of the handle to continue the flow...
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Awesome Knife
 
When I first began messing around with forging blades , I found that trying to squish the tip of the blade to give some taper toward the point ended up with making a hump at the front of the knife ...

this could be part of the reason for the hump on his knife

but I also do very much agree with the others who have pointed out that it was primarily a hunting knife .
I set out to design a knife that would be good for skinning and field dressing , as well as general beating around , I ended up with something silimarish ...
theknife1-1.jpg

I just like clip points :)
 
Kismet said:
You might consider he was writing for FOREST AND STREAM at the time, and purporting to be the "old forester", giving sage advice to the city-bound and uneducated of the period. Condescension and a certain pomposity accompanying his "know-it-all" tone may have been part of the writing style of the published experts of the era, AND, he may have been juxtaposed with safari-level experts, with pith helmets and bearers. :)

He's certainly guilty of "puffery" and self-advertisement, but he used his ?reputation? to get free lodging at the Adirondack resorts and keep himself fed.

The quality of his writing aside, one can take great advantage of his perspective on "outing" and in this more diffuse society, use it to some great benefit in minimalism without sacrificing comfort or well being.

In short, he may have been a tool, but he added a lot to the knowledge base and distribution of concepts for a lot of people, over a long period of time.
Click to expand...

Sounds like Jeff Cooper.
 
The nice little nessie that I made for myself is GONE. My best friend dropped by the shop, picked it up and couldn't put it down! It went home with him and now I don't have one, and that was my first too!!! :(

Oh well, now I get to make another one !!!!! :D
 
I would think the hump would help in splitting wood for tinder also.
 
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