The tough, profitable months of the muskrat

The middle of November was once one of the busiest times of the year in south Louisiana, the time when “the Cajun and other native trappers … are ready for their arduous labors,” as National Geographic reported in an article in 1930.
“They transport their wives and children to the marshes, set up their tiny huts or convert rafts into houseboats.” Some trappers leased the land they worked, paying for exclusive trapping rights. Others bid for the right to trap on public land. Then, on Nov. 20, they “[donned their] hip boots and sleeveless jacket with capacious pockets and [began a] harsh 75-day regimen, rising at daylight to make [their] rounds.”
By Nov. 20, several cold fronts had usually passed through the coastal marshes, causing the muskrat’s fur to grow long, thick, and at its best for the fur market. The trapper’s day began early because muskrats usually move and feed at night. The trapper wanted to get to his traps early before predators – or sometimes other trappers – got to his catch.
In some areas where the trapping was good, the line of houseboats along the banks of a bayou suggested a “Venetian slums main street,” to the magazine writer
“Down the water lane each evening come the fur buyers in their launches. They bring the news of the day … and dispense … items of gossip,” as they haggle over the quality of the day’s pelts.
The furs they examined had been washed, scraped clean, and put on stretchers to dry. Once dry, they were stored in a cool, dry place until the trapper had enough of them to sell. The buyer graded the pelts, reducing the price for any imperfections and raising it according to the thickness and length of the fur.
It was serious business. Trapping played a relatively substantial role in the south Louisiana economy in those days. During the early 1900s, Louisiana’s fur industry involved more than 20,000 trappers and 1,000 fur buyers and dealers. Muskrat populations exploded during the first half of the century with the harvest peaking at more than 9 million pelts worth $12 million in 1945.
The numbers began to decline after that, partly because of encroachment by man (and his drilling rigs) on muskrat habitat, but mainly because the bigger, stronger, and more aggressive nutria began to take over the marsh and, quite literally, eat the muskrat out of house and home
Trapping was hard work for everyone involved, but, according to National Geographic, “An energetic trapper operating on … privately trapped and constantly patrolled marsh will average a net income of $1,000 for his season of 75 days.” That wasn’t bad pay for several month’s work at a time when a family’s average income for an entire year was just under $2,000.
Trappers working state-owned lands probably made a bit less than that. According to a 1941 news story about the opening of the trapping season, the state had licensed 150 trappers to work three Louisiana wildlife sanctuaries. Trappers got 65 percent of the profits and the state got 35 percent.
But there was still good money to be made from the public land. When thieves hit the state fur warehouse in Delcambre in January 1940, they made off with muskrat and mink furs worth up to $75,000. The news report doesn’t say how many pelts were taken, but the night watchman, who was overpowered and tied up, said the robbers had to make two trips to truck them all away.

You can contact Jim Bradshaw at jhbradshaw@bellsouth.net or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.