boots

The next morning he checked the weather — still raining, and colder than it had been the previous morning — and then set to work making footgear.
  It proved both easier and harder than he had thought it would be. The easy part was making a pattern. He just stood on the dry skin and marked around his foot with a piece of charcoal from the fire pit. When he’d cut out the two bottoms he cut two rectangles from the remaining hide and stitched — with some effort as the hide was thick and tough — the two pieces into rough cylinders. Then he sewed each of the tubes down to the sole, attaching it all around the edge, and when he was done he had two clunky boots that he could stick his tennis shoes down into; with the hair on the inside they felt warm the minute he stuck his feet into them. He used the last bits of hide to cut two strips to use for lacing to pull the tops of the cylinders tight to his legs — they hit about midcalf — and it was here he learned how to soften leather.
  The deer hide was dried and working with it was about like working with thin wood. It had no give and was brittle and hard and very, very tough. It was all he could do to sew the cylinders to the bottom using thin-cut hide for lacing and punching holes with the tip of the knife. But the two straps that went around the top had to be soft enough to tie off. He thought of using the fishing line for thread but didn’t want to waste it. Then he found that by working the leather — first between his fingers and then by pulling it over a piece of wood that stuck out of the wall — he could soften it. It never got truly soft and supple like tanned deer hide, but it was workable and got the job done.
  He gathered more wood just before dark and went to sleep that night dreaming of punching holes in leather with the tip of the knife — the image burned into his mind from sitting all day sewing.