127 76 20MB
English Pages 368 Year 1993
Drum Songs
MCGILL-QUEEN'S STUDIES IN ETHNIC HISTORY Donald Harman Akenson, Editor 1 Irish Migrants in the Canadas A New Approach Bruce S. Elliott 2 Critical Years in Immigration Canada and Australia Compared Freda Hawkins (Second edition, 1991) 3 Italians in Toronto Development of a National Identity, l8 75-!935 John E. Zucchi 4 Linguistics and Poetics of Latvian Folk Songs Essays in Honour of the Sesquicentennial of the Birth of Kr. Barons Vaira Vikis-Freibergs
Columbia W. Peter Ward (Second edition, 1990) 9 The People of Glengarry Highlanders in Transition, 1745-1820 Marianne McLean 10 Vancouver's Chinatown Racial Discourse in Canada, 1875-1980 Kay J. Anderson 11 Best Left as Indians Native-White Relations in the Yukon Territory, 1840-1973 Ken Coates 12 Such Hardworking People Italian Immigrants in Postwar Toronto Franca lacovetta
6 Class, Ethnicity, and Social Inequality Christopher McAll
13 The Little Slaves of the Harp Italian Child Street Musicians in NineteenthCentury Paris, London, and New York John E. Zucchi
7 The Victorian Interpretation of Racial Conflict The Maori, the British, and the New Zealand Wars James Belich
14 The Light of Nature and the Law of God Antislavery in Ontario, 1833-1877 Allen P. Stouffer
8 White Canada Forever Popular Attitudes and Public Policy toward Orientals in British
15 Drum Songs Glimpses of Dene History Kerry Abel
5 Johan Schr0der's Travels in Canada, 1863 Orm 0verland
Drum Songs Glimpses of Dene History KERRY ABEL
McGill-Queen's University Press Montreal & Kingston • London • Buffalo
McGill-Queen's University Press 1993 ISBN 0-7735-0992-5 Legal deposit third quarter 1993 Bibliotheque nationale du Quebec
Printed in Canada on acid-free paper This book has been published with the help of a grant from the Social Science Federation of Canada, using funds provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. Funding has also been received from Multiculturalism Canada.
Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data Abel, Kerry M. (Kerry Margaret) Drum songs: glimpses of Dene history (McGill-Queen's studies in ethnic history) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-7735-0092-5 (bound) - ISBN 0-7735-1150-4 (pbk.) i. Tinne Indians — History. 2. Indians of North America — Canada — History. 3. Indians of North America — Arctic regions — History. I. Title. II. Series. E99.T56A23 1993 971'.00497 093-090210-6 This book was typeset by Typo Litho composition inc. in 10/12 Baskerville.
Contents
Tables and Maps vii Preface ix Introduction xiii Illustrations xxi 1 When the Earth Was New 3 2 Life in the Eighteenth Century
17
3 The Stone House People 43 4 The New Traders 65 5 War Songs, 1821 to 1848
88
6 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
113
7 Trappers and Traders 145 8 In Witness Whereof 165 9 Canada and the Dene Nation: Economics 202 10 Canada and the Dene Nation: Society and Politics 231 11 Drum Songs
265
Notes 271 Bibliography 309 Index 333
This page intentionally left blank
Tables and Maps
TABLES
3.1 Northern Natives Visiting Churchill, 1719-35 59 8.1 Average Day School Attendance, Selected Day Schools, 1889-1935 183 8.2 Average Boarding School Attendance, 1887-1935 184 9.1 The Changing Shape of the NWT Economy 229 10.1 Dene School Attendance, NWT, Selected Years, 1901-54 233 10.2 Boarding School Attendance, in the Mackenzie Valley, Selected Years, 1918—54 233 10.3 Native Population, Selected Communities, 1901-86
238
10.4 Populations in a Divided Northwest Territories 263 MAPS
1 The Dene Homeland
16
2 The Eastern Fur Trade 66 3 Treaties and Registered Bands 166
This page intentionally left blank
Preface
While growing up in a number of resource towns in northern Canada, I developed a very distorted view of my world. Schoolteachers provided a sound survey of British history, but Canadian history apparently consisted solely of red tracings of explorers' routes across a pink map. There seemed no evidence around me to contradict that conclusion. There were no elderly people to tell stories of days gone by, everyone lived in houses of the same style and age, and everyone had parents who had been born "outside." Apparently, my land had been a vast and uninhabited frontier awaiting development by the mining and logging companies. Native peoples were mythical beings who had existed in magical times, and it never occurred to us that there might be real, living Natives on our own doorsteps. When it finally became clear to me that northern Canada did indeed have a history as old and fascinating as that of any other part of North America, I began a search for reading material and was sadly disappointed. Most of what had been written dealt with the expansion of Canadian industry into the resource "frontier," compendiums of dry facts that did little to explain the human experience of northern life and seemed to bear no relation to my perspective on my surroundings. Aboriginal peoples were scarcely noted. Those events that had occurred before the arrival of Euro-Canadians were called "prehistory," and after contact, only those events related to issues of interest to Canadian society as a whole were examined. It is only relatively recently that historians have attempted to include events of importance to minority groups in their assessments of the
x
Preface
past. Formerly, for instance, fur trade historians examined the economics of the trade for Canadian and British entrepreneurs or evaluated the place of that trade in imperial expansion. The impact of the trade on the First Nations who participated was not considered important until the late 19605, when pathbreaking studies like A.J. Ray's Indians in the Fur Trade began to appear. Similarly, regional histories have only recently challenged the assumption that the west and the north formed a tabula rasa upon which central Canada etched its image. Northerners have not always accepted Ottawa's policies with passive resignation. They have fought for recognition and fair treatment, and sometimes they succeeded in forcing the politicians and policy makers to re-evaluate their positions and adjust their proposals. What was of importance for northerners was not always what Ottawa considered to be important for Canada as a whole, and the ongoing tension between region and nation has been as much a part of northern Canadian history as it has been for any other region of the country. This book, then, is an attempt to readjust the balance of historical writing. In order to understand northern history, Canadians must begin with an understanding of the people who have been there since ancient times. I make no claims to have written a history of the Dene according to the Dene definition of history. That task can be done only by the Dene themselves, and I hope that someone will attempt it soon. Rather, this is a history researched and written within the parameters of the European tradition so that it will speak clearly to Canadian society as a whole and broaden our understanding of an important region. In several ways this book is not "traditional" history. Traditional history may suffice for history as it traditionally has been denned, but with respect to the Dene, the standard questions and sources are not always appropriate. Instead, an attempt has been made to construct a more holistic view of Dene history so that the reader can appreciate the interaction of social, political, and economic forces within a particular time and space. I would hesitate to call the study "ethnohistory," but I have followed the lead of ethnohistorians in consulting a broad range of source materials. Archival documents, oral testimony, archaeological findings, linguistic studies, and folk traditions together provide a rich resource base from which clues about the past may be extracted. Neither is this an anthropological study. The point of the research was not to prove or disprove particular theories of culture change, or to establish or challenge models of social structures and functions. The major anthropological debates about the Dene (kinship pat-
xi
Preface
terns, historic periodization, and rates of economic change) are noted only in passing. Through the process of research, I discovered that insufficient evidence has survived to allow me to address these debates in any new way. Neither oral tradition nor the records of early European visitors provide enough clues about ancient family systems or regional economies to permit meaningful comparisons with the immediate pre- or postcontact periods. These are interesting questions, but without evidence, discussions of them must remain speculative and theoretical. The point of this study is not to develop new interpretive models. This book is intended instead to reconstruct some important moments in Dene history in order to answer the question of how these northern people have been able to maintain a sense of cultural distinctiveness in the face of overwhelming economic, political, and cultural pressures from the European newcomers to their homelands. Nineteenth-century settlers were convinced that the aboriginal population of North America was doomed to extinction and that small band societies with hunting and gathering economies were particularly vulnerable. The Dene, making their homes in a region of harsh climate and extraordinarily delicate ecosystems, would seem to have been susceptible to the disruptions of the colonizers. Instead, the Dene have persevered. In recent years they have moved beyond concerns at home to make major contributions to the political movement for aboriginal rights in Canada, including the ideological impact of the Dene Declaration in 1975, the leadership of Georges Erasmus in the Assembly of First Nations, and the innovative experiments of the Northwest Territories government. This book is an examination of the process through which the Dene have been able to defy the confident predictions of those nineteenth-century doornsayers. Such an undertaking would not have been possible without the support of many people. The Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada provided funds for two years of the research. The Department of History and the Faculty of Arts at the University of Manitoba financed much of the travel costs involved. Judith Beattie, Anne Morton, Debra Moore, and Michael Mooseberger at the Hudson's Bay Company Archives kindly chased after hundreds of documents and somehow remained cheerful through it all. Mrs Shirlee Anne Smith, keeper of the Hudson's Bay Company Archives, provided much practical as well as moral encouragement. The staff at the NWT Archives in the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre and Chris Hanks of the Archaeology Division made a number of helpful suggestions. Thanks are also due to Terry
xii
Preface
Thompson and Anne ten Gate of the Anglican Archives in Toronto, the Archives Deschatelets (OMI), the staff of the Provincial Archives of Manitoba, the staff of the Provincial Archives of Alberta, and, of course, the staff of the National Library and the National Archives in Ottawa. My colleagues in the Department of History at the University of Manitoba and at St John's College, Winnipeg, sat patiently through my discussions of parts of the "work in progress" and asked very helpful questions. Particular thanks go to Jean Friesen, Jennifer Brown, John Kendle, E.G. Moulton, Gerald Friesen, and, at Queen's University, Donald Swainson. I would also like to thank two of several anonymous readers who made some very helpful suggestions that I have chosen to incorporate. Finally, I would like to thank Christine Earl of the Department of Geography, Carleton University, for her fine work in the preparation of the maps, and Judith Turnbull for her thorough and helpful editorial work.
Introduction
Three canoes slipped silently across the calm waters of the bay. A warm purple haze had settled across the lake on this summer's evening, wrapping the sky and the land in a magical veil. The sun had dipped briefly below the horizon, but its light lingered behind, silhouetting the spruce trees against its promise of return. A raven called from one of the tree tops, urging the canoeists to join the group that had gathered on the lakeshore. The rich, warm smell of a crackling campfire had reached the newcomers even before they rounded the point, and the throbbing of a drum could be heard well before they were close enough to hear the voices accompanying it. Then, suddenly, they were there among the dancers, caught in the rhythms of the drums and the feet and the voices, their bodies bound up in the mass of humanity, but their spirits released by the music. The dancing, feasting, and storytelling would go on for three days in celebration of the successful fishery and the pleasure of one another's company. Children would hear tales of great hunters and courageous warriors, of travels through another world, and of clever women who had overcome adversity in its many forms. Stories from the past would colour the present and shape the future. And beating throughout them all is the drum. As one visitor to Denendeh once wrote, those drum songs "express the spirit of the people, and their melodies possess such subtleties as to defy imitation ... the tea-dances and gambling songs of the Dogribs will haunt me for the rest of my days."1
xiv
Introduction
Who are the Dene? The name, which means simply "people," has been applied to a variety of groups. Outsiders may first have learned of the name from Alexander Mackenzie's account of his travels in the northwest, published in London in 1801. He supplied the word "Dinnie" as Chipewyan for "man" and noted that the Gwich'in (Kutchin) were called the "Deguthee Dinees."2 Nearly thirty years later, the reading public learned from Sir John Franklin that these northern people called themselves "Dinneh" to identify the larger population, and then distinguished separate groups by adding the name of the river or lake associated with the hunting grounds of each. Thus, he recorded, the Dogrib were known as the Thlingchadinneh.3 Father Emile Petitot, OMI, also recognized the name, which he rendered into French as "Dene-Dindjie" in the 18705. The DeneDindjie, according to Petitot, were a family of peoples who could be divided into numerous "tribes"; his names and definitions of those groups varied considerably over the course of his long writing career. Roughly speaking, Petitot applied the name Dindjie to the more northerly people known today as the Gwich'in (Loucheux or Kutchin), and the name Dene to the southern groups, including the Slavey, Dogrib, Chipewyan, and Hare. A second term was introduced in the United States by an early ethnographer, Albert Gallatin. In 1836 he published an essay in the journal of the American Antiquarian Society that identified the Natives of the northwest as "Athapascas."4 Henry Schookraft, in his massive study of American aboriginals prepared for the Bureau of Indian Affairs and published in the 18505, adopted the term Athapascas to refer to "a class of tribes" living north of the Churchill and Saskatchewan rivers, but he explicitly excluded the Gwich'in from the culture group.5 Other scholars rejected the name "Athapascas." In 1915 Father A.G. Morice published an extended essay in which he dismissed the term as being a foreign one imposed by American scholars. He preferred to follow Emile Petitot in promoting the use of the Dene's name for themselves, but he broadened its application to include the western Sekani, Carrier, Chilcotin, and Sarcee as well as the southern Navajo and Apache.6 The Canadian government also adopted the name in its attempt to describe and categorize the First Nations of Canada in a handbook published in 1913, although the authors of the book entered the spelling as "Tinne."7 Both Athapaskan and Dene continue to be used. Some contemporary anthropologists prefer to call the people Northern Athapaskans (to differentiate them from their southern relatives, the Navajo and
xv Introduction Apache) on the basis of linguistic similarities among the various subdivisions.8 Other anthropologists have adopted the term "Dene."9 The people themselves, of course, continue to prefer their own names, a fact demonstrated particularly through the formation of the Dene Nation organization. The Dene today are applying the term in a more limited sense than did Morice, however. The Dene Nation recognizes its members as the Gwich'in, Bearlake (or SahtuDene), Hare, Dogrib, Slavey, Chipewyan, and Mountain people, and sometimes those Cree who live in the vicinity of Fort Smith and Hay River.10 It is this contemporary definition that is used here. This is the story of the people who make their homes in the drainage system of the Mackenzie River, or as the Dene call it today, the Deh-cho. The Mackenzie drainage system includes an area of over 1.8 million square kilometres in Canada's western subarctic. The boreal forest gradually gives way on its northeastern margins to the lichen woodland and eventually the Barren Grounds, or tundra. The rocky ridges of the Cordilleran region in the west meet the sedimentary layers of the interior plains along the Mackenzie Valley proper; to the east are the rocky outcrops of the Precambrian Shield. Summers are short but comfortably warm, while winters are long and cold. There is only light precipitation. Thousands of lakes and rivers dot the landscape, giving the Northwest Territories 9 percent of the world's fresh water. The fish found in these waters grow slowly but are renowned for their fine taste. Principal species include whitefish, trout, pickerel, and pike. Big game resources include bear, barren ground and woodland caribou, moose and wood bison. Small game includes muskrat, hare, beaver, and marten. There are dozens of species of birds and edible plants as well. In short, while many imagine the subarctic as a desolate, inhospitable land, there are adequate resources to provide a comfortable living for human inhabitants if those resources are used with care. The Dene are not a homogeneous people. Half a dozen different languages are spoken throughout their homeland, some of which are as different as French and Spanish. People have specialized in different resource-harvesting activities and identify with distinct social groups. The exact nature of the differences among groups has been a subject of considerable debate among anthropologists. Do commonly used names represent indigenous distinctions, or were they labels applied by fur traders and non-Dene aboriginal neighbours? How did the Dene organize their societies? Anthropologists have argued over whether the Dene should be divided into regional
xvi Introduction
"bands," resource "task groups," "clans," or simply family units. Numerous maps have been produced that purport to indicate the territories inhabited by each culture group at given points in time. These divisions can be problematic because they oversimplify a complex and historically fluid situation. Classification schemes devised by social scientists can be helpful devices for some purposes, but they have sometimes also served to obscure what life was truly like for the people, or what the people themselves considered to be their social organization. Even in general terms, classifications of language, culture, or economic base are not always useful distinctions, since the many opportunities for interaction among peoples serve to transcend these differences. Trade, intermarriage, military excursions, and travel all bring separate groups together temporarily and sometimes permanently. It is because of this complex web of activity that this book addresses the history of the Dene as a whole, rather than attempting to trace the story of any particular group. Nevertheless, certain general population divisions are in common use today. The largest Dene group is the Chipewyan. The name is usually said to be derived from the Cree word meaning "pointed skins," which described the clothing once worn by these people.11 Today, the Chipewyan live in a wide area across northern Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta; north along the Mackenzie Valley; and east to the Barren Grounds. Many Chipewyan groups continue to make use of resources in both the boreal forest and the barrens, relying on the migrating caribou in particular but also fishing in the many lakes and streams. Closely related to the Chipewyan, and sometimes described as part of the same nation, are the Yellowknife. These people were so named because of their access to copper, which they traded with their neighbours. They were once reported to be a large and powerful group, but by the end of the nineteenth century, they had almost disappeared. Today they are considered by some to have vanished as an identifiable group, 12 while others argue that they still exist as a small regional division of the Chipewyan.13 Another subdivision of the Chipewyan was the Caribou Eater nation, so called by nineteenth-century travellers because of their reliance on the caribou for all their food and shelter needs. The name is no longer in common usage. The Dogrib are found today between the Great Slave and Great Bear lakes. Like the Chipewyan, they based their economy on caribou and fish, with summer excursions onto the Barren Grounds and winter camps in the shelter of the trees. Today most live in and around Rae-Edzo, Snare Lake, and Lac la Martre. Their name is derived from a story told widely throughout the north about a woman
xvii Introduction
who married a magical dog that appeared to her as a man. Their offspring became the ancestors of the Dogrib people. Early fur traders often described the Dogrib together with another large population group called the Slavey, or Slave. Today, however, the Slavey are always distinguished as a separate group. They are found along the Mackenzie between Great Slave Lake and Fort Norman, along the Liard River to Fort Nelson, and through northern British Columbia and Alberta to Hay River. Large woodland game, fish, birds, and small game form the basis of their economy. The early fur traders heard the name "Slave" loosely applied by the Cree and Chipewyan to many different groups, including a band of Plains people who are unrelated to the northern Slavey. For a time in the mid-nineteenth century, a pidgin form of the Slavey language known as "broken Slavey" was widely used along the Mackenzie as a universally understood trading language. The Hare people live west and northwest of Great Bear Lake, with their main community centre at Fort Good Hope. They received their name because of their use of rabbit skins for clothing and for shelter, but they also hunted larger game. Close links were developed with their western neighbours, the Gwich'in, and for a time, fur traders referred to a distinct population that appeared through intermarriage as the "Batard-Loucheux," who lived to the north of the Hare and east of the Gwich'in. The Gwich'in people have also been called the Loucheux and the Kutchin. They live along the lower Mackenzie, in the Yukon River valley, and along the Peel River. The name "Loucheux" comes from the French translation of the Chipewyan name for these people and means "squint-eyed." The name "Kutchin" applies to the larger population of which the Loucheux are an eastern branch, while the spelling "Gwich'in" is now preferred by the people themselves. As noted, Emile Petitot also referred to them as "Dindjie."'4 The Gwich'in have a number of customs that are quite distinct from other Dene groups because of their long-term interactions with coastal peoples like the Tlingit, including a clan system and potlatch tradition. To the south, the Mountain people live on the slopes west of the Mackenzie and north of the Liard. Most live today in the communities of Fort Norman and Wrigley. The name was once applied to a much larger group of mountain dwellers, including the Kaska, Nahanni, Tahltan, and Sekani, 1 ^ but today the name is usually applied to the more specific population. Among other resources, they made use of mountain goats and sheep. Today the Fort Norman and Wrigley people are renowned among their neighbours for their
xviii Introduction
songs, dances, and medicine powers. They are also credited as the inventors of the moose-skin boat.' 6 The people who live around Great Bear Lake are known today as the Bearlake people, or Sahtu-Dene. They are recognized as a mix of Slavey, Dogrib, and Hare who came together during the fur trade to form a distinct group. Although the Dene Nation does not include the Beaver in its list of member groups, these people are culturally and linguistically related. They live south of the Slavey and west of the Chipewyan in northeastern British Columbia and northwestern Alberta. These then are the people with whom this history is concerned. The first two chapters will reconstruct as much as possible of their ancient past, drawing on oral traditions, archaeological findings, and linguistic evidence to trace the movement of populations and build a tentative image of what life was like before the arrival of the white men. In chapters 3—5, the story turns to the impact of the arrival of fur traders to the east and south. Long before any Europeans or Canadians arrived in the Mackenzie Basin, their presence was being noted. Rearrangements of trade patterns and territories, the impact of unknown disease, and the political responses of the people will be discussed. Once the competitive energies of the Hudson's Bay Company (HBC) and the Montreal fur trade partnerships were directed into the Athabasca country, life changed irrevokably for the Dene. As will be noted, the trade brought both significant improvements and serious challenges. Before 1821 the ferocious disputes among the Euro-Canadian traders had important implications for the Dene; after the HBC and North West Company merged in 1821, the fur trade itself entered a new period of economic and political stabilization, although relationships among the various nations continued to be uneasy. Chapter 6 examines a new element that was introduced into this economic partnership at mid-century, when the first of the Christian missionaries arrived to spread their message. The interaction of the Dene with these newcomers provides a fascinating glimpse into the dynamics of culture contact. People reacted in a variety of ways to the missionaries and their ideas about religion and society, and these reactions will be examined in some detail. Many of the new Christian ideas were directly analogous to traditional Dene concepts, while others were very different. Individuals and communities struggled to come to terms with these ideas, and in the process, other important changes were introduced into their lives. The missionaries also brought more than a vision of a new religious and social order. They helped to draw the attention of the Canadian governments towards
xix Introduction the region and acted as champions of what they believed were Dene interests in their encounters with that government. Chapter 7 looks at the i88os and 18905, when the Dene found themselves dealing with a third group of newcomers from "outside." While they had worked for many years alongside Metis freetraders who operated independently (or semi-independently) of the HBC, they now were meeting white traders, trappers, and prospectors who had been attracted by the promise of quick wealth. Most did not plan to remain in the north and so had very different attitudes about resource harvesting. For the first time, the Dene were forced to compete for food and furs with outsiders, and disputes inevitably arose. The Canadian government was drawn reluctantly into a more active administrative role in the north in an attempt to deal with these controversies and address the obvious problems that were developing. As northern resources became more important to Canadians as a whole, the government was finally forced to recognize that its claim to the north involved more than a statement of fact. Treaties 8, 10, and 11 are examined in chapter 8. These treaties were produced as part of the government's "solution" to the sovereignty issue. The history of these treaties and the subsequent challenges to their validity form an important part of the recent Dene past and therefore merit attention. How did the Dene interpret the treaty-making process? Have they benefited in any way? Chapter 9 explores the most recent history of the Dene, which has two main focal points: technological change and economic innovation. Aviation was introduced to the north by prospectors and trappers; it has become both a destructive and constructive thread in the socio-economic fabric. Radio and then television have been received with a similar mix of results; for better or worse, they are now an integral part of many lives. Society has also been crucially affected by the institution of the family allowance and old age security programs. The secularization of school curricula and the increased involvement of government in directing the school system as a whole have had a profound impact on everyday life in the north as well. Modern economic changes like the availability of wage employment and the declining overseas fur market must also be considered as important aspects of recent history. Finally, chapter 10 examines what might be called the renaissance of Dene society. A new political awareness, developed during the months of the Mackenzie Valley Pipeline Inquiry, may prove to be the most enduring legacy of that episode. Effective use of the Canadian political system is already producing important results, and organizations like the Dene Nation are directing considerable energy
xx Introduction towards promoting an awareness of the people's history and culture. Dim predictions made only a generation ago that the northern Native peoples were vanishing seem highly unlikely today. As the Dene struggle to be recognized as a people, it is hoped that an understanding of the past will help contribute to an enduring plan for the future. The drum songs of the past carry many messages for the children of tomorrow.
A caribou hunt camp. The hunters are displaying the skins in front of them, while the meat is drying on the racks to the rear. (NA PA 19699)
Gwich' in fish-drying racks. Enormous quantities of fish could be preserved this way for use throughout the winter. (NA PA 101120)
Bloody Falls, near the mouth of the Coppermine River, the probable site of Matonabbee's attack on the Inuit camp as described by Samuel Hearne. (NA PA 120590)
A Dene woman tending her fish weir near the family campsite. Women could contribute significant amounts to the diet through gathering close to home. (NA PA 42048)
A member of the Mountain people at Fort Norman with the winter's fur catch. Europeans were outraged that women were expected to carry such heavy loads, but to the Dene it was only natural, since women were believed to be the stronger of the sexes. (Anglican Church of Canada, General Synod Archives 03-75-103-53-113)
A cache (probably Chipewyan). The toboggans are loaded and ready for winter, placed on a high platform to prevent damage from animals. (NA PA 20010)
Francois Beaulieu, the famous Metis trader who was a thorn in the side of the HBC and a member of a large extended family among the Chipewyan. (NA PA 18924)
OMI mission at Providence with the recently expanded hospital, circa 1900. The mission garden, in which vegetables, flowers, and herbs were grown, is to the right. (PAA)
Snowshoe manufacture, or "knitting," as the HBC sometimes called it. Men shaped the frames and women prepared and wove the lacing. Snowshoes were a vital trade commodity. (NA c 38174)
A moose-skin boat. Invention of these large and practical boats is attributed to the Mountain people. They were once a common sight along the river routes to Fort Norman. (NA PA 18578)
Group of Grey Nuns and children en route to Providence School, circa 1927-29. The man on the right is Father Vacher, who had served in the area since 1895. The other is lay brother Lafreielle. (PAA)
The HBC steamer Wrigley docking at Fort Simpson. The boat represents the beginning of a new era for the region, facilitating local communications, but also providing easy access for non-Native "outsiders." (PAA)
A Dene woman preparing a skin. Larger frames for moose or caribou hides are still found in the north today. (NA PA 42104)
A camp on Great Slave Lake, circa 1902. The European clothing, French Canadian sashes and caps, and indigenous housing provide an interesting combination. Note the absence of women. (PAA)
The famous Dogrib hand game. To the accompaniment of the drum, the seated men are attempting to trick their opponents regarding the number of objects under the blanket. (NA PA 102486)
Drum Songs
This page intentionally left blank
i When the Earth Was New
Who were the first people to make their homes in the Mackenzie Valley? When did they arrive? Archaeologists have been debating these questions for many years, and the answers are as yet by no means certain. The puzzle of ancient Dene history is an important part of the larger puzzle of the ancient history of North America as a whole. Ever since people from Europe and America first met, there have been discussions about population origins. Faced with the biblical interpretation of human origins, Europeans attempted to explain how people had reached the New World. Some suggested that the aboriginal peoples were one of the lost tribes of Israel. Others argued that they had come from Egypt or even from the legendary city of Atlantis. Nineteenth-century anthropologists developed their own ideas. Perhaps the first people of North America had come from Japan, China, or Polynesia. Of course, none of these theories took into consideration what the aboriginal peoples themselves believed about their origins. Rather, each was promoted to serve the purpose of a particular cause: to provide "scientific" proof of the validity of the book of Genesis; to justify seizures of Native peoples' lands and enforced acculturation; or to provide evidence for current theories of human development. If theologians and early anthropologists were unable to agree on the ancient history of North America, modern archaeologists are no more unanimous. Until relatively recently, many believed that people had lived in North America for less than 2,000 years. Arguments were then raised by a few to suggest that people could have been
4 Drum Songs living here in very ancient times indeed, well before the last ice age and at a time when homo erectus or homo neanderthalensis lived in Africa and Europe. No conclusive evidence has yet been produced for such ancient habitation of the Americas. Rather, most archaeologists now agree that it was probably modern human beings (homo sapiens sapiens) who spread across Africa, Europe, and Asia. Then, as the climate warmed and the glaciers of the last ice age retreated, people also began to settle in North America. The most recent glacial advance in North America began some 70,000 years ago and is referred to by geologists as the Wisconsian phase. Contrary to popular belief, the ice did not "advance" once and then "retreat," but rather the ice sheets went through several fluctuations. There were two main sheets of ice covering North America: the eastern Laurentide sheet and the western Cordilleran sheet which grew along the western mountain ridges. During the greatest advances of these sheets, they could have merged and coalesced, but during warmer periods, they did not meet, leaving an ice-free land corridor in between. Geologists are still debating the dates at which such a corridor might have been "open," but there is general agreement as to its periodic existence. Other areas of the northwest have also not always been covered by glaciers. Parts of the Yukon interior and the northern highlands of Yukon and Alaska did not have much more glaciation than at present, ' although much of what is now land was then covered by several glacial lakes. The other important land mass to be exposed during the Wisconsian phase was a vast plain where Bering Strait now exists. Because much of the seawater was held as ice, the sea level was lower than it is today and the level had dropped sufficiently to expose an area of land now referred to as Beringia. Grasses invaded the lands and animal populations undoubtedly followed. Human habitation was therefore at least theoretically possible in some areas of the northwest as early as 40,000 years ago, about the same time as homo sapiens sapiens was appearing in Europe. However, archaeologists have not yet uncovered conclusive evidence of human populations at this very early date. It is now believed that people were living in Alaska and Yukon about 14,000 years ago. These people lived along the ice-free corridor and spread out across the centre of the continent as the glaciers melted and the vegetation and wildlife became established. Thus, the first areas in the northwest to be settled were AlaskaYukon and the land strip between the glaciers, which would have been located roughly along the eastern slopes of the mountain ranges and into what would later form the Mackenzie River Valley.
5
When the Earth Was New
The land resembled tundra rather than forest, with several large glacial lakes. Habitation of these areas is now generally dated at 10,000 to 12,000 years ago. However, one find that appears to contradict such dating was the caribou fleshing tool discovered at Old Crow in the Yukon. The bone, which was apparently worked by human hands, was dated originally at an age of 23,000 to 28,000 years. Several serious questions have been raised recently about the artifact. Was the radiocarbon dating technique used accurately? Was the bone already ancient before it was made into a tool? Were the cuts and fractures in the bone actually made by human beings or were they the result of animal and weathering impact? Until other materials of similar antiquity are found, the Old Crow bone will undoubtedly remain a focus of controversy. About 7,000 years ago, ice no longer covered the main part of what is now the subarctic regions of the Northwest Territories, and vegetation distribution was forming the more modern patterns. Evidence of human habitation across the region dating from this period has been discovered. Where did these settlers originate? Some archaeologists have argued that they were people from the northern plains.2 Once the glaciers had melted and the permafrost receded, the land was probably covered initially with grass or tundra-like vegetation, and the climate would have been relatively dry. People who had already adapted to this type of environment to the south would have found it a relatively easy matter to expand northward. A number of archaeological sites found north of Great Slave Lake and east of Great Bear Lake provide some hints of what life was like for these people who lived on the ancient taiga-tundra about 7,000 years ago.3 Their tools were worked from stone, bone, and wood. A wide range of resources was used, including fish, birds, and both large and small game. People were mobile but returned regularly to certain important sites where they probably gathered for the fall fishery or to quarry stone for tools. Their projectile points and blades resemble those of the Piano people more closely than do those of later populations in this area. Many points were made from locally quarried quartzite, which may have been heat treated in the manufacturing process. The climate continued to warm until about 4,000 years ago. The boreal forest extended across the northern plains and northward beyond even where it is found today. While ancient giants like the mammoth had become extinct, other game animaLs like the caribou and bison became important resources. Three distinct culture groups emerged in the northwest. The first group, sometimes called Shield Archaic, lived in what is now Keewatin District and parts of
6 Drum Songs
Manitoba. They relied on caribou and fish; some lived in partially subterranean homes with caribou-skin covers.4 The second group lived in the boreal forest to the north and west of Great Slave Lake. Like the Shield Archaic people, they based their economy on caribou and fish, but developed slightly different tool-making techniques, which has led archaeologists to classify them as a distinct culture. The third group lived to the west and south of Lake Athabasca, hunting bison and living in a manner more like the northern Piano people. About 4,000 years ago, the climate in the northwest began to turn cooler and wetter. One of the most important results of this change was a gradual retreat of the tree line to the south. Over time, people would have had to adapt to the changing vegetation and resources. The second important change during this period was the arrival of the "Palaeo-Eskimo," or ancestors of the Inuit. Coming from Asia about 4,000 years ago, they settled along the coastal regions of the Arctic, hunting marine mammals as the basis for their economy. In some areas they also hunted land mammals like the muskox, which brought them into contact with the interior peoples. In other areas, the Palaeo-Eskimo occupied lands that had once been occupied by the Shield Archaic people before the climate had cooled. Meanwhile, it appears that another new group was moving in from the northwest. Archaeologists have identified a tool-making tradition that they have called "Northwest Microblade," believed to have appeared first in Alaska and then in the Yukon arid possibly the Northwest Territories. There is insufficient evidence to draw many conclusions about the origins of this tradition or the economy upon which it was based. By about 3,000 years ago, however, microblades were apparently no longer produced by the interior peoples. Regardless of the disputes about classification of tools at particular sites, general agreement is possible on some broad outlines of what life was like for the peoples of the northwest about 3,000 years ago. The forest dwellers used antler, bone, stone, and wood for fashioning a variety of tools, including projectile points, knives, scrapers, and sewing materials. In some areas, they also had access to copper, obsidian, red paint stone or ochre, and possibly jade.5 People lived in small regional groups, making use of local resources and developing unique regional adaptations, but also enjoying the benefits of trade. A particular stone material quarried near the confluence of the Mackenzie and Keele rivers, for instance, has been found in sites as far apart as Maxhamish Lake in northeastern British Columbia and Chick Lake, north of Norman Wells.6 Although archaeological
7 When the Earth Was New
sites have not produced much evidence of fishing, the location of campsites on lakeshores and along rivers suggests that fish played an important part in the economy. Caribou appear to have been killed primarily by spearing as they passed through river narrows or along regular migration paths. Like the caribou, people who lived in the forest-tundra transition zone moved out onto the tundra in summer and back into the woodland in winter. Woodland bison were hunted by people to the south and west, where that species enjoyed a far broader range than it does today. Very little else can be deduced about these ancient populations. Did they have canoes or other water transport? How large were their bands? What languages did they speak? Unfortunately, archaeologists have been unable to agree whether these forest and tundra dwellers of 3,000 years ago were the direct ancestors of the Dene. At many sites, occupation appears to have been continuous and one technological tradition blends gradually into the next. At other sites, however, there are abrupt changes or breaks in the sequences. As a result, most archaeologists are reluctant to ascribe any remains older than about 2,000 years to direct Dene ancestors.7 There has been no agreement on whether a particular tool-making technique is uniquely Athapaskan and therefore might be used as a "diagnostic marker" at an archaeological dig. Regional variations in material culture appear to have been strongly pronounced in ancient times, suggesting that bands or family groups lived relatively autonomously from one another. Language might provide a clue about the ancient population spread of the Dene. Linguists have observed that grammar and vocabulary change with time and geographical distance, and some argue that these changes can be used as indices for measuring population movement and antiquity.8 Languages spoken today by the Dene are classified as part of the Athapaskan "linguistic phylum," or group, which has been subdivided into Northern Athapaskan, Southern Athapaskan (or Apachean), and Pacific Athapaskan. While there is considerable disagreement among linguists about the history of these languages, most agree that the differences between Athapaskan languages and other North American aboriginal languages constitute evidence that the Dene and their relatives arrived on this continent at a more recent date than other Indian groups, but before the Inuit. 9 There is also agreement that the Athapaskan language probably formed a single, unified language until about 2,500 years ago.10 The theory is that these early Athapaskan speakers lived in central Alaska, from where they began to spread across the mountains to the east and south.
8 Drum Songs
If the linguistic theories and archaeological evidence are combined, a third theory about ancient Dene history can be advanced. This theory proposes that the Mackenzie Basin was populated originally by Piano people as the ice receded, beginning some 10,000 years ago. This population was joined a few thousand years later by descendants of another group with ancient roots in Siberia, who had scattered from east-central Alaska. Whether the newcomers drove out the old or whether the two populations merged peacefully is not explained by this theory. At any rate, it implies that the aboriginal population of the Mackenzie River Valley today could well represent the results of a culture contact situation that occurred over 2,000 years ago.11 It seems unlikely that these various theories could ever be proven or disproven on the basis of archaeological or linguistic evidence alone. It is from the traditions of the Dene themselves that the clearest detail of ancient history can be discovered. According to Dene stories, the very ancient world was a much different place from the world as we now know it. "When the earth was new," it was populated by giants and dwarfs, animals who behaved like people, cannibals, and people who possessed the power to transform themselves at will. This magical world was changed gradually into the world as it now exists. Natural features such as mountains and lakes were formed through the activities of people and animals alike, animals were given their distinctive features, and people moved about the landscape to occupy the lands on which their descendants now find themselves. Probably the most widely known story throughout the north is the story of the great flood. While many versions are told, the most commonly repeated tells us that there was once a terrible winter in which much snow fell and everyone was miserably cold. The animals, determining to put an end to the winter, discovered seven great bags that held different types of weather. It was the mouse who finally opened the bag of warmth, but the snow melted so fast that the earth was flooded and all land was lost to sight. The animals huddled together on a raft, and one by one they attempted to dive to find the earth again. Different versions of the story credit different animals with the final success, but most report that it was the muskrat who at last returned from his dive with a handful of mud. The earth was rebuilt, the waters receded, and the world became as it is today. 12 Most Dene groups also tell stories about how their people moved from one land to another. In fact, one of the most persistent themes in Dene oral tradition is the discussion of splits among population groups. One Dogrib story tells of two brothers who were separated
g
When the Earth Was New
after their childhood, one travelling north to the Arctic coast, and the other to the bush country of the Mackenzie. '3 In 1789 the Chipewyan told Alexander Mackenzie that "in ancient times their ancestors lived till their feet were worn out with walking." They had once lived in another country, they explained, "inhabited by very wicked people." They had emigrated from this country "and had traversed a great lake, which was narrow, shallow and full of islands, where they had suffered a great misery, it being always winter, with ice and deep snow."'4 Emile Petitot recorded that the Hare told him that "in the beginning," the Chipewyan, Gwich'in, Beaver, Dogrib, and others were a single people, but a flaming star or comet appeared in the southwest, and the Chipewyan and others broke from the group and travelled to another country.'5 A Slavey story reports that people once lived in the mountains and did not know of the riches of the Mackenzie River until an old man showed them the fish it contained and how they could make use of those fish.l6 Since many societies around the world have stories of migrations, folklorists have sometimes interpreted these as allegorical or representative of deep-seated anxieties about separation from loved ones in a dangerous environment. In the case of the Dene, however, one can correlate unique elements in some of these stories to dateable events in order to provide an understanding of what was probably the most important event of ancient Dene history. Using oral traditions, archaeological evidence, linguistic theories, and the geological record, one can argue that the ancestors of the Dene lived as a single people in the mountains of what is now the Yukon-Alaska borderlands, and that a catastrophic natural event precipitated their dispersal to the east, north, and south in search of new lands. Anthropologists and linguists since the late nineteenth century have accepted the fact that the Navajo and Apache are close relatives of the northern Dene. On the basis of language differences, the split between the groups is now believed to have occurred sometime between 500 and 800 AD. William B. Workman of the University of Alaska once proposed that this upheaval may have been caused by a major volcanic eruption in the St Elias Range that occurred at about that time.17 He later began to doubt the theory because there did not seem to be sufficient archaeological evidence to support it and because, among the people of Alaska with whom he worked, there was no oral tradition of such an event.18 Nevertheless, the theory is a compelling one. Today there is ample evidence available to support the fundamental idea that a volcanic eruption forced the Dene to seek new lands. In fact, two eruptions in the St Elias Range would have affected any people living in the region. The volcano is now
io Drum Songs
referred to as the White River Volcano, and geologists date its most recent eruptions at about 310 AD and 525 AD.' 9 The second eruption was the most devastating, since it produced an explosion of enormous violence, equal to or greater than any other volcanic eruption in the last thousand years of earth history. 20 It produced a massive ashfall that accumulated to a depth of over a metre in areas south of the White River valley itself, while ash up to 30 centimetres deep has been found in the Yukon River valley. Traceable amounts of ash cover an area of some 324,000 square kilometres downwind from the crater. 21 Noxious gases are produced in an eruption of this type, while mudslides, heavy rainfalls of acid rain, and other related phenomena would have created havoc in areas surrounding the volcano. It is hardly surprising that such a devastating event would be commemorated in a people's history. What is surprising, perhaps, is that these stories would continue to be told for a period of almost i ,400 years. There are versions told by the Hare, Mountain, and Slavey as well as stories with indirect references that might be interpreted as partial memories of the catastrophe. Father Emile Petitot was the first to record stories with references to an exploding mountain. In 1869 one of the Mountain people told him how people had once taken refuge on a mountain after the great flood, hoping to save themselves from future disasters. Instead, "the ground which smoked around them caught fire, the rocks exploded, the mountain opened up and out of it came an enormous fire. Then it exploded with a great fracas, and in its place there was nothing but a vast plain, smoking with debris." The people fled in terror in all directions, unable to understand one another because their languages had changed. "This collapse of the high ground happened in the west," Petitot was told.22 A Hare story also links an exploding mountain with the proliferation of languages and the scattering of people. In this version, a magic arrow carries two brothers to the top of a mountain; they hear voices corning from within the mountain, mocking them and saying, "But your languages are not the same, you speak differently from one another." As more and more people began to arrive at the mountaintop, the brothers settled in to make themselves comfortable. But just as they had lit a fire to cook their food, "the rocks exploded, the people took fright; suddenly the great mountain destroyed itself, collapsed and was transformed into a vast plain." The people found that they could no longer understand one another, and scattered in all directions, forming the different nations. 23 A more recently recorded story about the volcano was told by a Slavey storyteller at Fort Simpson in the 19505: "At the beginning of
11
When the Earth Was New
the world it was winter all the time. Ashes falling like snow. People made caves in the ground and by lakes and lived there ... then when the fire passes, green trees. For everything was burned." 24 Of course, dozens of other stories might be interpreted as containing references to the White River eruption, but these are less obvious and more controversial. For instance, several of the great flood stories mentioned above contain suggestions that the flood followed an unusually long and cold winter in which "the air was dark, and thick clouds always covered the sky."2-5 Such a description would certainly be apt for conditions following a volcanic eruption. Whether or not the White River volcano contributed to the split between the Northern and Southern Athapaskans, it seems highly likely that it was responsible for significant Dene migration out of the White River region and into a much broader territory that included the Mackenzie drainage system. Life in the new areas required adaptations to the new environments. For a number of groups, fish became a more significant item in the diet. As one Hare story explains, "In the beginning ... we did not yet know the Nakotsia-kotcho [Mackenzie River] and we lived amidst the Rocky Mountains. Then an old man went as far as the river and in it saw fish swimming. He set out a net in the rapids and gathered many fish. He then returned to tell us the good news and the people went to settle along the Nakotsia-kotcho."26 Roman Catholic missionary and early anthropologist Emile Petitot accepted the oral traditions of the Dene as evidence that the Chipewyan in particular had "a primitive home" in what he believed to be the Rocky Mountains. Hence, he and the French Canadian fur traders occasionally called them "Montagnais," in spite of the fact that by the mid-nineteenth century they lived on flat country. 2 ? This question of population movement has been the subject of discussion in more recent studies. Anthropologist James G.E. Smith observed that it was once commonly believed that the Chipewyan had moved eastward from the Peace River region at a much more recent date: in the early eighteenth century following the establishment of the HBC trading posts on Hudson Bay. Smith and Beryl Gillespie challenged this idea of a west-to-east movement. 28 While they may indeed be correct about the impact of the fur trade, Petitot was arguing in favour of an earlier west/east migration from the mountains, and his remarks seem to have been misunderstood. The other major population movement to which allusion has already been made was the migration southward by the ancestors of today's Navajo and Apache peoples. The history of their travels is a fascinating one, but it remains to be told elsewhere. It is interesting to note, however, that the northern and southern groups continued
12
Drum Songs
to be well aware of each other's existence. As Father Leopold Osternmann wrote in 1905, the Navajo called their northern relatives the "Dene nahodloni," meaning "they who are also Navajos." The Navajo had a tradition that a party once set out to meet the Dene, but after living with them briefly, the Navajo returned home, unable to convince the Dene to come south with them. 2 9 Another important population shift occurred at a more recent date, when the ancestors of the Sarcee people left their northern homelands for a new life on the plains. The Sarcee have several versions of the event. In one, the people were said to have been crossing a frozen lake when they discovered a live elk, frozen into the ice. The elk struggled to free himself and in the process broke up the ice. Many people were drowned, but one group survived because of its position on a floating ice pan. They drifted away from their relatives, the Beaver, and found a new home in the south.3" Besides these forced migrations, people also moved by choice. Trade networks were established for precious commodities like copper, which was apparently derived from two main sources: the Coppermine River and the White River (also known as the Copper River) area of Yukon-Alaska. The copper was pounded into sheets that could be folded, pressed, and formed into the desired shapes. Copper blades, hooks, and awls, as well as decorative items such as beads and bracelets, have been found over a wide geographical area, indicating that considerable trade and contact between groups must have occurred.3' The oldest copper implement found in the Mackenzie District has been tentatively dated at 700 to 400 BC, but most copper tools date from more recent sites.32 It is not clear whether those who gathered the copper also manufactured the items for trade, or whether the copper was exchanged before it had been worked. According to at least one oral tradition, the copper was worked into tools before it was traded, so the miners were also manufacturers. 33 Oral tradition is also very specific about the discovery of copper. Two of the published versions dealing with the Coppermine site credit copper's discovery to a Dene woman who was living among the Inuit but became lonely for her own people. With the assistance of a wolf, she began to make her way home. Along the route, she found the copper, and realizing its value, she marked her pathway home from the site by dropping stones as she went. Her own people treated her badly, however, so she determined to return to the copper source and prevent evil doers from gaining access to it. There she remained for the rest of her life, gradually sinking into the ground.34 As one version of the story has it, "It is said that she made
13 When the Earth Was New
metal with her lungs and her heart and if she was given meat she would give metal in return."35 Her people became known as the Yellowknife, and their role as traders of copper continued into the eighteenth century. More stories have survived about the discovery of the copper along the White (Copper) River. In one of these, credit for the discovery is again given to a woman who had been seized by enemies, but in this case she finds the copper on the top of a high mountain, then continues to travel east to find her people. It is interesting that in the two versions of this story transcribed by Emile Petitot, references are made to a "naming mountain" and a volcano.3*3 Since the White River volcano is located near the source of the copper, these stories provide further evidence of the significance of that site to Dene history, even though the copper trade from this source eventually came to be controlled by other groups.37 Dene stories also tell of people who no longer exist. The Dogrib told Emile Petitot that many years earlier a group called the "Tp-une," or "Lake People," lived at Great Bear Lake. The Dogrib wanted their lands and so launched a surprise attack on the Tp-une, killing all the people.38 Clearly, many important events that occurred hundreds of years ago have now been forgotten, and we may never know exactly how the ancestors of the Dene lived in the days before the Europeans arrived. Nevertheless, archaeological clues do provide some idea about everyday life for the Dene over the i ,000 years preceding the arrival of Europeans. Stone tool manufacturing ceased to dominate the material culture in this period; although stone tools continued to be used, new tools made of bone and antler became increasingly important. The manufacture of microblade-style tools was replaced with that of medium-sized tools of fine workmanship. Snaring and spearing game continued to be the most important hunting techniques, but an innovative weapon began to be adopted; evidence suggests that bows and arrows were first used in the eastern Chipewyan lands about 500 AD and reached Great Slave Lake about 600 years later.39 Some people continued to hunt caribou and fish in the forest lands and along the forest-tundra transition zone, while others continued to rely on the bison in the forest-parkland zones. Scrapers are the most common tool found at many sites, indicating the importance of hide preparation. Many stone tools were not made from locally available materials, leading archaeologists to speculate that either there was considerable population movement or a large and active trade network was in place. To the north, interaction between Inuit and Indian produced an exchange of tools and manufacturing tech-
14 Drum Songs
niques, while in the west similar cultural exchanges were occurring between the mountain and coastal peoples. A wide variety of food resources was used. At one site between the modern communities of Arctic Red River and Inuvik, faunal remains were analysed and found to include the common loon, arctic loon, red-throated loon, red-necked grebe, trumpeter swan, "oldsquaw," white winged scoter, moose, caribou, muskrat, beaver, and dog or wolf. While no remains of fishing gear were positively identified at this site, fish bones were found and these were of sufficient size to indicate that they had not been caught in shallow water close to shore, which would suggest that the people must have built boats.40 Archaeologists have been unable to confirm what those boats would have looked like, however. All of the thousand-year-old campsites discovered so far have been relatively small, and hence they were probably used by no more than a few families who travelled and fished together. Each site was used repeatedly, however, as people returned seasonally to favourite fish lakes or hunting territories. Different housing styles developed in different regions. Skin tents were common in the south and central regions, but in northern Yukon several excavations have uncovered "housepits." A hole was dug into the ground of one metre or more in depth and several metres across. Poles or logs were apparently arranged to form a roof frame, which was then covered with bark or branches. Inside, the earth floor might also have been covered with bark or branches, while an open fireplace was established in the centre. To date, only one subterranean house site has been found in the Mackenzie District, and it appears to have been built much more recently. Around these houses, archaeologists have found small holes dug in the ground to the frost line. These pits may have been used as fish caches in the way some people still store perishables today. Containers for storage appear to have been manufactured from birch-bark sewn with root material, a technique also still known today. Few charred bones have been found at any of these old campsites, leading to speculation that most food was prepared by being boiled in containers rather than by open roasting, an observation substantiated in oral tradition. Rocks were heated in the fire and then dropped into the cooking vessel.4' Regional variations in material culture were apparently significant, but clearly, much is not known about Dene history during the years of population expansion before the arrival of Europeans. Equally clear, however, is the conclusion that that momentous event was not preceded by thousands of years of unchanging existence for the peoples of the subarctic. The term "aboriginal baseline" was once used by social scientists to describe Native societies before their con-
15 When the Earth Was New
tacts with Europeans, but the concept is very misleading. It implies that all changes in aboriginal societies have occurred since their contacts with Europeans; before that date, by implication, aboriginal peoples lived continuously in essentially the same way. While we may not know as much about ancient times as we do about the recent past, it is clear that many changes occurred. Some people moved to new lands as the climate modified and influenced the natural resources available for human use. Other people adapted to new conditions in their old lands. Trade brought new ideas about the world as well as new tools and techniques for manufacturing them. Competition for land and resources precipitated warfare in some cases and brought about agreements in others. The Dene adapted successfully to an environment that demanded detailed knowledge and specialized skills.
Map i The Dene Homeland
2 Life in the Eighteenth Century
Direct contact between the eastern Dene and Europeans began sometime in the late seventeenth century in the Hudson Bay Lowlands. Nevertheless, even before such contacts had occurred, the presence of newcomers among neighbours to the east and west had precipitated changes. New trade contacts were incorporated into some already-existing patterns and caused disruptions in others. Redistribution of wealth and power occurred in some areas, while in others little would change. New reasons for conflict developed as people adapted to changing economies or new territories. The impact of new diseases also became a significant part of life. Scholars once referred to this period in a people's history as the "protohistoric" era, meaning the period immediately before the "historic" era, or period of direct interaction with Europeans. Not only is such an interpretation highly ethnocentric, implying that before the arrival of Europeans, Native peoples did not have a recordable history, but it is based on a very limited definition of the term "history." Many historians have come to recognize that there is more to the past than what has been recorded in the written documents of nations or leaders; other scholars must follow that lead in modifying their understanding of the definition of history. Instead of being termed "protohistoric," this period of the Dene's past might better be referred to as the period of indirect contact. Because it is relatively recent, more details about people's lives and the distribution of Dene groups can be determined. What was the nature of Dene society on the eve of contact with Europeans?
i8 Drum Songs Two major culture groups can be distinguished, much as archaeologists have suggested for the earlier period described in the last chapter. The forest and mountain people made their homes in the full boreal forest along the shores of rivers and lakes and in the mountains west of the Mackenzie River. The caribou hunters lived in the transition zone between the forests and the Barren Grounds, following the great caribou herds seasonally back and forth across their lands. Each of these groups was made up of bands of people united by bonds of kinship, political agreements, and economic ties. Both the composition of these bands and their territorial distribution have been matters of considerable debate. Anthropologist John Ives has devoted an entire book, A Theory of Northern Athapaskan Prehistory, to an analysis of what he calls the "principles of group formation" in the precontact northwest. He argues that kinship relations and economic strategies were important variables in the ways local groups were formed. 1 Because he draws his evidence from ethnographic studies and the scattered observations of fur traders, his theory is interesting and provocative but bound to remain controversial. Very little direct evidence, either oral or written, has survived to tell us much about Dene social life in the distant past. Much will necessarily remain speculative. Nevertheless, some clues do remain about life in the eighteenth century. Flexibility and adaptability were perhaps the central characteristics of Dene society. The Dene themselves recognized distinct nations among their people, each associated with a specific geographical region. Each nation was named for an important characteristic of its lands or for the major resource upon which it based its economy. Thanadelthur, a Chipewyan woman who played a major role in initiating contact between the Dene and the Hudson's Bay Company, told the English in 1717 that these nations included the Marten People, the Buffalo People, the Fish People, the Ice People, and the Partridge People. Although language differences existed, they could all understand one another. The Dene nations had also established relations with five other nations who lived in the lands around their borders. Thanadelthur reported that although her people did not understand the languages of their neighbours, they were "friends" and had the custom of marrying "one amongst another" to perpetuate that friendship. 2 The size of each band varied according to its purpose, the time of year, and the nature of the available food supply. Sometimes a single family, consisting of a man, a woman, and possibly up to five or six children,3 would set off on an expedition for berries, small-game hunting, or trade. More often, families grouped together around a
ig Life in the Eighteenth Century
successful hunter or an able shaman who would watch out for their interests. Tents at these campsites were large (13 to 16 metres in diameter),4 which suggests that more than one family could be accommodated in each. Samuel Hearne noted one such camp composed of two tents that was home to over twenty women and children, plus an unrecorded number of men who had gone off to trade.5 Caribou hunting was a group activity involving all members of the band; the herds were certainly large enough to feed a sizeable population, and the more hands available, the more could be taken, as will be described. In the west, where people relied more heavily on solitary game like moose, smaller bands appear to have been the rule during the hunt, but people gathered in larger groups to fish in the spring and fall, when the rich aquatic resources could support a much larger concentration of people. It will never be possible to determine the total Dene population through the eighteenth century, but it is clear that the "Northern Indians" (as the first Hudson's Bay Company traders called them) were more numerous than has been popularly believed. Thanadelthur reported to James Knight that she had seen "above a 100 Tents of her Country Men" while she was attempting to negotiate a peace in the lands of the Churchill drainage system east of Great Slave Lake.6 Given Hearne's observations about camp size, 100 tents might mean at least 1,000 people.7 While Thanadelthur may have been exaggerating to pique Knight's interest in trade with her people, records of the numbers of Northern Indians who eventually visited Churchill would seem to confirm a significant population in the eastern districts. Between 1719 and 1735, over 1,100 Northern Indian visits to Churchill were recorded in the post journal, averaging 62 people per year, of which about one-third were men without their families.8 The largest band included 130 people. Some forty years later, Hearne was able to gather a band of 150 men and a few women for his journey to Coppermine. When they rejoined the main group, Hearne reported there were more than fifty "tents."9 Since it is reasonable to assume that not all Northern Indians had contacts with the Englishmen at the coast, these figures would suggest that Thanadelthur's reports of the population in the Churchill hinterland may not have been far wrong. How many Yellowknife, Dogrib, and others lived beyond them will never be known. Links between the smaller bands were forged through marriage and adoption processes. While some anthropologists have argued that kinship was traced bilaterally (that is, through both the father and the mother), the evidence for such a conclusion is limited. Few traders were interested in recording how people identified their
2O
Drum Songs
families, and glimpses of evidence from one region and time cannot be generalized to cover all places or times.10 At any rate, relationships must have provided important ties as well as a means of distinguishing one's group identity, but blood kinship was not the sole determinant of who was considered a Northern Indian and who was not. Marriage, adoption, and exchanges of children from outside the group were also important ways in which an extended network of allies and partners could be established. Hence, Yellowknife and Cree might be found living with a Chipewyan band. In the case of important leaders such as Matonabbee and Keelshies, who traded at Churchill, these networks could be surprisingly widespread. Matonabbee's band, for instance, apparently maintained contacts all the way from Churchill to Coppermine, and Matonabbee himself knew the geography of that vast area very thoroughly indeed. While ties of kinship and political agreement united the bands in a common sense of identity with a larger region, local identity seems to have been more important in daily life. When the fur traders first encountered the Dene, the traders could not distinguish local identities and referred to all as "Northern" Indians. Later, they became more precise in their designations. It was once believed that this change in their observations meant that the Dene had become more socially differentiated because of the impact of the fur trade economy, but such an interpretation stems from a misunderstanding of the written records. The changes in the fur trade journals on this point probably reflect a more sophisticated understanding on the part of the traders rather than a sudden change in Dene social organization. Changes did, in fact, occur in Dene society because of the fur trade (as will be examined), but shifts in band identity do not seem to have occurred until a much later date. The family was the basic unit around which bands were organized. Marriage partnerships were generally arranged by parents, although men sometimes took wives from enemy bands and marriage bonds were sufficiently flexible to permit personal choice. A very successful hunter might have more than one wife (Matonabbee was reputed to have had seven), but polygamy was less common than was reported by nineteenth-century missionaries. Marriages could be dissolved for many reasons: a bad character, poor health, loss of interest in one's spouse, or a woman's unfaithfulness. 11 Children were very highly prized. At the birth of a child, Chipewyan women would retain a portion of the umbilical cord, which they would place in an elaborately decorated cover and hang about their necks. 12 In the west, both parents would change their names
21 Life in the Eighteenth Century
after the birth of a son to reflect their new status in the community. Gah (The Hare), who fathered a son named M'biss (The Knife), would become M'biss-tah (The Knife's Father). A man who had no children might be known as the "father" of a favourite possession, such as a dog; a woman who had no children might be given a derogatory name. 13 These naming practices were followed by some of the Mackenzie River people as well. The Hudson's Bay Company account books reveal, however, that the custom had disappeared in that region by the mid-nineteenth century. Children were spaced two or three years apart, so families were not large, although Samuel Hearne recorded that they generally included five or six children. ' 4 Female infanticide was practised across the north in times of hardship; desperate conditions necessitated desperate responses and boys were valued more highly, since they would grow up to hunt for the group. As W.F. Wentzel reported, people believed that "it is a great deal of trouble to bring up girls, and that women are only an encumbrance, useless in time of war and exceedingly voracious in times of want."' 5 European observers were amazed at the lack of concern paid to childbirth and the speed with which the new mother resumed her duties or travel with the group. Alexander Mackenzie concluded that their "continual and regular exercise must contribute to the welfare of the mother, both in the progress of parturition and in the moment of delivery."'6 Dene children, like those of many other North American aboriginal societies, were given great freedom and were never disciplined or treated harshly. They were, however, expected to assist in the work of the band. Girls in particular would begin to help their mothers at about age five.'7 The most elaborate coming-of-age ceremony in Dene society was reserved for women. At puberty, the young woman would remain for the duration of her first menstruation (and sometimes longer) in a small tent or hut isolated from the others, eating only certain types of food and using special vessels and a drinking tube, wearing special clothing, and often receiving the visits of only one female relative. Among some groups, a further ceremony involving the entire community might follow.18 Throughout the rest of her life, she would observe this and other menstrual customs, including special rules about the handling of men's tools and crossing hunters' paths. Although European observers later interpreted these taboos as evidence of women's inferior status in Dene society, Dene women themselves did not see them this way. Menstruation was the sign of a potent power particular to women, and from a sense of responsibility to the community, women felt obliged to be cautious and to avoid causing harm at those times. Menstrual customs could also be
22
Drum Songs
a highly practical means to assert control over one's life, as Samuel Hearne recorded: It is also a piece of policy with the women, upon any difference with their husbands, to make that an excuse for a temporary separation ... This custom is so generally prevalent among the women, that I have frequently known some of the sulky dames leave their husbands and tent for four or five days at a time, and repeat the farce twice or thrice a month, while the poor men have never suspected the deceit, or if they have, delicacy on their part has not permitted them to enquire into the matter.' 9
Dene women were not only the possessors of special spiritual powers, they were also believed to be physically stronger than men. As Matonabbee explained, "women were made for labour: one of them can carry, or haul, as much as two men can do."20 Work was clearly divided on the basis of sex. Men were the hunters of large game, and they manufactured boats and hunting tools. Women performed nearly every other duty, including all meal preparation, clothing and household utensil production, child rearing (to a certain age), cutting and carrying firewood, collecting the animals killed by the men, butchering and possibly distributing the meat at camp, as well as hauling all possessions when the band was on the move. As David Thompson later noted, "The women are very heavily loaded; the men with little else than their gun and their fishing tackle, even a girl of eight years will have her share to carry; while the Boys have some trifle, or only their Bows and Arrows." 21 Women also contributed a significant portion of the food supply through gathering eggs, berries, and roots as well as fishing and snaring small animals. Among the eastern bands, they also played a crucial role in the killing of large game. Later European observers were quite perplexed about the role of Dene women and the heavy demands placed on them, since in their own culture women were believed to be the "weaker" sex. A portrait of subservient and submissive Dene women emerges from the fur trade literature, leaving the historian with the task of deciding whether this image reflected reality or simply European value judgments. Certainly, the Europeans read their own assumptions about "inferior" tasks into the First Nations' social organization, but the available evidence suggests that the Dene considered men's and women's work to be different but not of relatively higher or lower value. Furthermore, because of the clearly defined separation of men's and women's worlds, Dene women seldom discussed women's topics with male European traders or missionaries. Thus, the written
23 Life in the Eighteenth Century
record is out of balance in favour of men's interests. Clearly, in purely economic terms, women's contribution to the Dene economy was equal to that of men, and perhaps even of greater importance to the subsistence of the family or the band. But while women's economic contribution may have suggested an egalitarian society, other evidence suggests that women's status in precontact Dene society may have been lower than that of men when it came to widely held attitudes. Female infanticide was practised, but rarely male infanticide; men could share or exchange their wives without taking the women's views into account; and childless women were disparaged, while childless men were not. Some oral traditions also suggest that women were not accorded status equal to that of men. Elderly women today sometimes recall the hardships of their old way of life as unique to them as women, and are grateful that their granddaughters no longer must work constantly at such physically demanding tasks as those that filled their days when they were young. Certainly, the importance of women in precontact Dene society has been very much underestimated and overlooked in the literature, but one must not go so far as to suggest that precontact life was a sort of egalitarian "golden age" in which men and women were equally valued. The elderly in Dene society also lived with considerable uncertainty. Highly valued as knowledgeable advisers, they had a key role to play in educating the children and assisting with plans for the hunt or for warfare. However, in times of scarcity, they could be considered as liabilities and left to die if they could not keep up with the rest of the band in its travels. Death customs appear to have varied. In some areas, the dead were buried or wrapped in skins. In others, the bodies were placed on platforms in trees. It was a widespread custom, however, to abandon or destroy all the belongings of a person who had died, and to move camp to a new site. Mourning might be brief and personal or prolonged and public, including selfmutilation (such as cutting off one's fingertip to symbolize the enormity of one's loss). Some western groups believed that the spirit of a dead person could be reborn in a new baby, continuing the cycle of life. The importance of the caribou to the eighteenth-century Dene has been widely recognized. There are actually four subspecies of caribou in the north, three of which are harvested by the Dene. The largest population is the Barren Ground caribou, found in the tundra between Hudson Bay and Great Slave Lake, and north to the Arctic Ocean. To the west in the boreal forest zone are found the woodland caribou, while a herd of Grant's caribou (found primarily
24 Drum Songs
in Alaska) may be found in the northwestern regions of what is now Yukon. Scientists believe that the ranges of these caribou herds have remained relatively consistent since the late precontact period, although numbers may now have declined and the territorial range shrunk somewhat in recent years. Barren Ground females give birth to single calves during the first two weeks of June on the calving grounds; then the herds gradually congregate and begin to move across the land. As summer draws to a close, the large herds begin to divide and head south towards the trees. By late October the rut is under way as the males battle one another for the females. After the rut, the herds continue to move into the shelter of the bush, where they spend the winter foraging before beginning the cycle anew. 22 The relatively predictable movements of these animals enabled the eastern Dene to develop effective harvesting methods for a regular and dependable supply of food and of the raw materials used for clothing, shelter, and tools. Several methods were used in taking caribou. The most elaborate involved the construction of a caribou surround (pound), sometimes referred to as a "deer hedge" by European observers. A site was chosen where the caribou passed regularly within easy distance of a wooded area, which would supply the poles and roots needed for construction. Samuel Hearne described the process as follows: The pound is built by making a strong fence with brushy trees, without observing any degree of regularity, and the work is continued to any extent, according to the pleasure of the builders. I have seen some that were not less than a mile around, and am informed that there are others still more extensive. The door, or entrance of the pound, is not larger than a common gate, and the inside is so crowded with small counter-hedges as very much to resemble a maze; in every opening of which they set a snare, made with thongs of parchment deer-skins well twisted together, which are amazingly strong.
Rows of brush were then established leading to the opening of the pound so that the caribou would be guided into it from a distance. The people camped at a convenient nearby location until the approaching caribou were sighted. Then, men, women, and children walk along the lake or river-side under cover of the woods, till they get behind them [the caribou], then step forth to open view, and proceed towards the pound in the form of a crescent. The poor timorous deer ... run straight forward in the path till they get into the pound. The Indians close in, and block up the entrance with some brushy trees ... the women and children walk round the pound, to prevent them
25 Life in the Eighteenth Century from breaking or jumping over the fence, while the men are employed spearing such as are entangled in the snares, and shooting with bows and arrows those which remain loose in the pound. 23
Archaeologists have reported a variety of types of these pounds, including a V-shape, straight lines with openings where snares could be set, and more circular arrangements.84 Once a pound had been constructed and proven successful, people might return to it over many seasons. According to oral tradition, the building of a pound was very much a community effort, since as many as fifty people might be needed for a large hunt. Among the Gwich'in, one man made the decision about the location of the pound, but all shared in its construction and in the meat thereby obtained.25 There has been some debate over whether these pounds were used year-round or seasonally,26 but the evidence of Samuel Hearne is clear on the point that caribou were taken throughout the year. In March of 1771, he visited a camp of Chipewyan "who had resided there [a] great part of the Winter, snaring deer."*7 Nevertheless, caribou killed in August or September were preferred because the winter skins were too thin and full of warbles to be useful for clothing, while meat harvested during the rutting season was considered to have an unpleasant flavour. European observers were amazed at the numbers of caribou taken by the Dene in these pounds. They "Sett an Incredible Number of Deer Snares and ketch abundance of Deer in them," recorded James Knight in I7i6, 2 8 while Samuel Hearne noted that it was "almost incredible" how many animals were taken and yet the numbers were apparently never reduced.29 In fact, people who built caribou pounds were able to secure sufficient meat to enable them to live relatively sedentary lives, contrary to popular belief about nomadic hunter-gatherers.30 Hearne explained that this method of hunting was "sometimes so successful, that many families subsist by it without having occasion to move their tents above once or twice during the course of a whole winter."3' The pound was only one of a number of techniques for killing caribou. Snares might be set along paths used regularly by the caribou, and frequently the hunters would lie in wait alongside narrow river crossings, where the swimming animals could be speared easily. In winter the caribou might be driven across the ice of a frozen lake into snares set along the shores across the caribou trails.32 These snares were made from strips of unprocessed moose or caribou hide. Ten to thirty strands were tied into a long cord of up to three "fathoms" (about five and a half metres) in length for large animals
26
Drum Songs
and shorter cords for small game like hare and partridge. The snares were thus cords of relatively small diameter strong enough to hold any animal that became caught in them.33 It was also observed that caribou could be attracted by the sound of ringing produced by hammering stones together; people may have been able to draw the animals to within shooting range with such a ruse.34 Alexander Mackenzie commented that while caribou taken through a group effort were considered communal property by the Chipewyan, those caught in snares were considered the private property of the person who had set the snare. Nevertheless, an unsuccessful hunter was entitled to help himself as long as he left the prime cuts of meat for the snare's owner.35 The combination of snare and spear was highly effective and lessened considerably the risk of a miss by an unskilled marksman. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that the eastern Dene did not make extensive use of the bow and arrow for hunting. Samuel Hearne commented: "I never knew any of them who could take those weapons only, and kill either deer, moose or buffalo, in the common, wandering and promiscuous method of hunting." 36 David Thompson recorded the fact that, unlike all other North American First Nations, the Chipewyan held their bows horizontally (rather than vertically) so that "with the Bow string thus drawn to the breast, which does not allow to the Bow two thirds of its force," the aim was excellent, "but the arrows are feeble in effect."3? It would hardly have seemed to matter, given the efficiency of the snare and spear method. The caribou was important particularly to the Chipewyan and Gwich'in not only for its meat, but also for its hide, which provided the raw material for clothing and shelter. Samuel Hearne estimated that each individual needed an average of twenty skins a year for clothing and other uses, not counting the skins required for tents, bags, and other shared items. A single suit of winter clothing for an adult used eight to eleven skins.38 It has been estimated that a lodge (housing eight to ten people) would have required forty to fifty skins.39 Caribou sinews were important for sewing and construction of domestic utensils. Bones were smashed or split and then boiled to release the marrow fat, while all parts of the carcass and inner organs were used for food. Woodland caribou do not appear to have played a role of equal significance in the economy of the boreal forest bands, although they were also hunted. In summer this species ranges along the tree line in the mountains, then moves to lower areas in the winter if food supply is limited at higher altitudes. Herd sizes tend to be smaller, and there is as yet no evidence that Woodland peoples built caribou pounds.
27 Life in the Eighteenth Century
The importance of caribou as a resource has led a number of anthropologists to the conclusion that band identity was based on use of specific caribou herds rather than on geographic location generally. Bryan Gordon has argued that the Chipewyan hunted what are now called the Beverly and Kaminuriak herds, the Yellowknife and Dogrib hunted the Bathurst herd, and the Sahtu-dene hunted the Bluenose herd.40 By extrapolation, the Gwich'in would be linked to the Porcupine herd. Such an interpretation is based on the assumption that the territories inhabited by each herd have not changed significantly over time, a point not yet proven conclusively. Some of the caribou meat was eaten fresh, but preserving it for later use was an important art that women began to learn at an early age. The roughly butchered parts were hauled back to camp, where the women sliced the meat thinly and spread it on drying racks. Sometimes the sun and wind alone would be sufficient, but at other times slow-burning fires would be kindled to assist in the process. In times when travel was urgent, people could improvise, as Samuel Hearne observed his Chipewyan companions do in the spring of 1772. "We fastened it on the tops of the women's bundles, and dried it by the sun and wind as we were walking," he wrote, "and strange as it may appear, meat thus prepared is not only very substantial food, but pleasant to the taste."4" Hearne also appreciated one of the finest Chipewyan delicacies, prepared solely of caribou parts, which he called "beeatee": It is a kind of haggis, made .with the blood, a good quantity of the fat shred small, some of the tenderest of the flesh, together with the heart and lungs cut, or more commonly torn into small shivers; all which is put into the stomach, and roasted, being suspended before the fire by a string ... When it is sufficiently done, it will emit steam, in the same manner as a fowl or joint of meat; which is as much to say, Come, eat me now: and if it be taken in time, before the blood and other contents are too much done, it is certainly a most delicious morsel, even without pepper, salt, or any other seasoning.4"
While it is undeniable that the caribou played a significant role in the eighteenth-century Dene culture and economy, its importance should not be overstated. People made use of a variety of resources. Fish were a vital food source, the value of which has often been overlooked in studies of the Dene economy. One of the problems has been the fact that most archaeological sites have not produced much evidence of fish use even though oral traditions indicate otherwise. One possible explanation was offered by anthropologist Robert Jarvenpa. Observing contemporary Chipewyan use of fish, he noted that "most fish remains are purposely disgarded away from major
a8 Drum Songs
centres of activity, either into nearby lakes and rivers or into off-site muskeg areas" (for obvious reasons!). Furthermore, "nets, hooks, and related materials were carefully curated, and eventually remo\'ed in the process of site abandonment." 43 It is also clear that since fragile fish bones deteriorate rapidly in the acidic northern soils, evidence of the extent of fishing at any older sites will be limited. Early European travellers recorded a well-developed fishing technology across the north. Fish were caught in nets or by individual line angling with hooks. The people with whom Samuel Hearne travelled made their nets of strips cut from unprocessed caribou hides, while other bands are known to have constructed their nets from willow or spruce roots. Hearne's companions were very particular about attaching the bills and feet of certain birds along the top and bottom of the net, while the jawbones and feet of otters were tied to the four corners. These amulets were chosen for their ability to attract the fish. Conservation measures were also important. Hearne noted that while these nets could have been easily tied together to span the river channel completely, people preferred to set their nets widely scattered apart so as not to overfish each stream. Amulets were equally important in line angling. Fish skins were used as bait, but wrapped inside was a collection of items of significance to the fisherman, such as parts of a beaver tail, otter teeth, human hair, or squirrel testicles. Hearne was told that different articles were necessary in different lakes and rivers.44 Clearly, detailed and extensive knowledge of these techniques was an important survival skill. Although Hearne did not mention it, fish were also speared while they swam through shallow waters and some groups of people probably constructed fish weirs to simplify the task. The techniques of ice fishing were also well understood. Setting the nets was apparently a man's task, but gathering the catch was done by women to a considerable extent. The potential harvest was extensive. Samuel Hearne reported trout "of the largest size I ever saw" and pike "also of an incredible size" in the eastern arm of Great Slave Lake.45 Other important species included whitefish, pickerel, and a fish later to be named "inconnu" by white visitors. Roe was apparently as much valued as the meat; the Chipewyan dried certain types for easy transport and used it dry or fresh in the preparation of a thick white broth, which was considered a great delicacy.46 Some of the more northerly Chipewyan bands apparently had adopted the Inuit custom of eating raw fish and considered it delicious in that state.47 Alexander Mackenzie reported extensive drying racks built by the Gwich'in and in-ground pits for winter storage of the catch.
29 Life in the Eighteenth Century Certain lakes and streams were known as better sources for fish than others, and many of the sites still used today as gathering places have been used as such for many generations. There has been some debate, however, about whether the Mackenzie River itself was used extensively for fishing before the fur trade was introduced. There is scant archaeological evidence for extensive use, and oral traditions in some areas suggest that Mackenzie's banks were relatively uninhabited.48 On the other hand, NWT archaeologist Chris Hanks has argued that the eddies along the shores of the Mackenzie provide excellent fishing conditions and "the existence of a well developed aboriginal net technology at contact" is strongly suggestive of lengthy use.49 When Alexander Mackenzie travelled along the river in 1789, he did not meet many people but saw ample evidence of occupation, including a number of fish camps.s° Fish, therefore, were like caribou in that they probably provided a significant proportion of the diet as well as a focal point for social gatherings. Also like caribou, they were not a guaranteed resource. Fluctuating water levels, changing weather conditions, and other unexplained events caused variations in the numbers offish; therefore, a range of food sources was not only prudent but even necessary. Other large game of particular importance to the forest people were the moose and the woodland bison. Since moose are solitary rather than herd animals, moose hunting was more difficult and less certain of success than caribou hunting. The skill and power of individual hunters were thus of greater importance, and fewer people could rely on moose hides or meat as a major source of protein. Moose were snared like caribou, but could also be tracked and shot with bows and arrows.51 Wood buffalo ranged through the parklands of what are now the Prairie provinces west to the mountains and north to Lac la Martre. There is evidence that they may have been found in southeastern Yukon,52 and in 1831 two were seen in the vicinity of Fort Simpson, though their appearance there was noted as highly unusual.53 Even the Chipewyan had knowledge of bison-hunting techniques, as Samuel Hearne noted in i772.54 Unfortunately, there is little record (written or oral) of exactly how the Dene hunted bison. Black bear were taken primarily in winter, when the hibernating bear could be speared easily in its den. Although elk are found in Dene lands, they do not appear to have been popular prey unless other game failed, according to Hearne.55 Small game were also important to the Dene. Snaring small animals was considered to be women's work in the eighteenth century, and a great variety of meat and skins could be gathered in this way, making women's contribution to the food supply a crucial one. A
30 Drum Songs
number of bands, for instance, used hare so commonly for their garments that they became known as the Hare people. Porcupine quills were used for elaborate ornamentation, and young boys developed hunting skills by catching squirrels. Samuel Hearne reported that the Chipewyan would not eat foxes, wolves, or wolverines, however, because these were scavengers that fed upon the bodies of the dead.56 Nearly all small game appear to have been taken by snaring; traps were introduced only very gradually. Birds were killed for their feathers as well as their flesh; eagle feathers were particularly prized for arrows. The story of the man who hid in an eagle's nest to obtain some particularly powerful feathers is known widely across the north. Geese, partridges, and a variety of small birds were renowned as good eating, and their eggs were also gathered for food. A knowledge of migration routes could ensure a plentiful supply of birds in spring and fall. One of the most interesting questions regarding Dene resource use is the role played by plants in the diet. Anthropologists once believed that in hunter-gatherer societies, big game provided the bulk of the calories, protein, and other dietary requirements. In the last twenty years, however, studies of such societies around the world are coming to the inescapable conclusion that plant products played a far greater role than previously understood, and in some cases may even have provided the larger part of the diet. While the predominantly male activity of hunting might have appeared more glamorous to ethnologists and while it dominated the oral traditions told by men, it was the female activity of harvesting berries, roots, nuts, and leafy foods that really supported the group. Certainly a wide variety of edible plants was available to the Dene and there is ample evidence of their use, but the overall significance to the diet cannot yet be fully determined. The fact that many berries ripen in midsummer (between the major fishing and birding seasons) indicates that berry picking constituted a major activity at that time, as at least one Chipewyan story records.57 The berries were dried and stored for winter use. Emile Petitot noted the popularity of wild licorice and pond-lily roots in the nineteenth century; it seems likely that their uses were known before contact as well.-58 One of the most complete listings of northern plant use was prepared by Edward Curtis, who argued that the more northerly groups used fewer such resources than the more southerly bands. His descriptions of the processing methods and food preferences of the early twentiethcentury Chipewyan at Cold Lake are interesting, but it is not clear to what extent these practices represent much older knowledge.59 Many early observers commented on the use of rock tripe (a black li-
31 Life in the Eighteenth Century
chen) by bands travelling across the Barren Grounds. If meat was not available and other sources of food had failed, the lichen was scraped off the rocks and boiled to produce a thick, gelatinous soup that was considered very nourishing. It might be modified by the addition of other ingredients; Hearne noted it was particularly enjoyable when cooked with "fish-liquor."6" Of course, plants were also important for their medicinal value, but again there is little evidence from precontact times about preferences or extent of use. Father A.G. Morice wrote in detail about Carrier and Sekani herbal knowledge in the nineteenth century, 6 ' but both oral tradition and early observations leave the impression that northern Dene medicine emphasized shamans' ceremonies and physical manipulation rather than herbal medicine. Another crucial part of survival knowledge in the north was the ability to make a fire. Everyone, including men and women, young children, and the elderly, carried a small bag containing flint, pieces of stone to strike against the flint, and dry moss or other kindling material with which to get a fire started.62 These firebags were sometimes beautifully decorated. It is a common misconception that the Dene were a "Stone Age" culture when they first encountered Europeans. In fact, as has been noted, metal also played a role in the tool kit and decorative arts. The Dene were aware of two sources for copper: the Coppermine River and the valley of the White River. The copper was not smelted but merely had to be pounded between two stones to flatten and shape it into the required form. Leaves of flattened copper could be worked together to make large objects of considerable beauty as well as utility. Thanadelthur reported that her people knew others who had "hoops about there heads & handcuffs" made of copper, while those who obtained copper in the west produced knives, lances, and even dishes.63 A Chipewyan boy reported the method of collecting the copper to James Knight in this way: "They go into the River the water is up there Knees they put down there hands and take up handfulls of Land and amongst that Land bitts of copper some bigg some Small... they hammer it with 2 Stones and Rubb it on Stones & so make it bright and in the Shape [required]."6* Samuel Hearne noted some years later that a variety of tools were fashioned from the copper, including "hatchets, ice-chissels, bayonets, knives, awls, arrowheads, Sec," and that even after the introduction of iron tools through the fur trade, the Yellowknife continued to prefer their own copper tools.65 Because the Coppermine site also lay within Inuit territory, the Yellowknife were not the only people interested in obtaining the metal, which the Inuit apparently put to similar
32
Drum Songs
uses. This situation resulted in a see-saw of relations between the Inuit and Indians through the eighteenth century. In 1720, for instance, the Chipewyan reported that a peace had been made with the Inuit and a trade for Inuit "small Copper Lances & arrow heads" had taken place.66 At other times, relations were less tranquil. The famous massacre at Bloody Falls witnessed by Hearne in 1772 may have been part of the ongoing tensions. The extent of copper use has probably been underestimated by archaeologists and anthropologists. Even Hearne was surprised to note on his visit to Coppermine that "numbers of them from all quarters used every Summer to resort to these hills in search of copper ... The many paths that had been beaten by the Indians on these occasions ... is surprising."6? Copper was not the only metal the Dene had access to before the days of the fur trade. It was a series of accidents that first brought iron to the eastern Chipewyan. In 1619 a Danish expedition under the command of Jens Munk landed at what would later be called Churchill. The winter proved to be an utter disaster. Sixty-one members of the crew perished in the bitter cold amidst an epidemic of scurvy before the three survivors attempted a return to Europe in the spring. When Nicholas Jeremie arrived at York Factory almost one hundred years later, he was told the story of how a band of Natives had come upon the scene and, overcoming their terror at the sight of so many bodies of strangers, discovered the iron objects that had been left behind. According to Jeremie, the iron was not easily obtained on that first visit, however, for "unfortunately there was [gun] powder, and knowing nothing of its properties or its power, they foolishly set fire to it, with the result that they were all killed, and the house and everything in it were burnt up."68 It is not clear whether these casualties were Cree or Chipewyan, but by Jeremie's time the Chipewyan had become regular visitors to the harbour. Jeremie (who called them the Dogrib) recorded that "they think themselves well repaid for their trouble if they find three- or four small rusty nails about as long as one's finger. And sometimes they come on foot more than four hundred leagues."69 A fascinating Chipewyan story recounts these events in a slightly different way. As told by Frangois Mandeville at Fort Chipewyan in 1928, a band following a man named Beaver Orphan travelled a long way into Inuit territory and found itself at the ocean, where a young man discovered a mysterious substance on the beach that looked like stone but was not. Beaver Orphan explained that he had dreamed about this substance, and by blowing and singing he was able to split it into many small pieces, which the people then manufactured into arrowheads and spear-tips.70 It is quite possible that the Cree and Chipe-
33 Life in the Eighteenth Century
wyan were raiding one another over access to the iron well before the Hudson's Bay Company became established in the region.71 Iron may also have reached the western Dene through a series of trade networks reaching ultimately to Alaska and Siberia. A story told by the Hare explains that they once purchased small pieces of iron about the size of a little finger from the Epa-tpa-Gottine who lived "on the other side of the mountains." 72 The Inuit (Eskimo) of eastern Siberia and western Alaska had apparently been making use of iron since about i AD while the Russians had been trading with Siberians since at least the mid-seventeenth century,73 and it is therefore not unlikely that iron and a few iron goods could have been passed along the old routes to the interior Dene. Tracing the nature of other elements of Dene material culture in the eighteenth century is not an easy task. Important changes were occurring as Europeans brought new goods to trade at the coast; by mid-century, some of these items had penetrated areas where Europeans had not yet travelled.74 Band territories were changing as some were drawn into direct or indirect trade (as will be discussed in chapters 3 and 4), and contacts with new ideas led to changes in technique as well as technology. Thus, it is almost impossible to determine what cultural features predated the upheavals of the early contact period and what features represented adaptations to changing circumstances. Earlier fur trade contacts far to the east had also brought more Cree and Ojibwa travellers into Dene lands, and ideas, stories, and technology all accompanied these new contacts. Eighteenth-century Dene culture represented a mixing of traditions, particularly among the eastern Chipewyan but to some extent also among western Dene groups. Regional variation and adaptation are evident in all aspects of Dene material culture, including shelter. In the mid-nineteenth century, naturalist Robert Kennicott claimed that "the Slave Indians and Chipewayans did not use any kind of skin lodges or wigwams till within a comparatively recent period, when they appeared to have borrowed the custom from the Crees." In fact, he argued, most still preferred to live in open camps with spruce-brush shelters.75 Certainly, lean-to shelters and conical lodges made of spruce were constructed by a number of Dene groups,76 but archaeological, archival, and oral evidence suggests that many shelters were, in fact, covered with animal skins and leather. The Chipewyan, Yellowknife, and Dogrib tents were domes (rather than the "tepee" shape of some southern nations) and constructed of poles covered with caribou hides. The poles, about two and a half metres long, were cut when the band was camped in a wooded area, and transported for use on
34 Drum Songs
the Barren Grounds in the summer. As fall set in, at least some groups converted the tent poles to snowshoe frames for winter travel.77 The caribou skins, with hair left on, were sewn together into pieces of easily transportable size and then assembled at the campsite. Moose-skin tents were used by people like the Slavey and Mountain bands who lived in the forest regions year-round. At a Dogrib-Slavey camp just below the outlet of Great Bear Lake, people built frames of poles arranged in a semicircle supported by a "fork," then covered with branches or bark. The lodges were erected in pairs facing each other across a shared fireplace.78 Archaeological evidence would seem to suggest that in the eighteenth century many people were still erecting the very large, multi-family tents of previous generations; the smaller tents more familiar today are apparently a more recent development. A temporary camp in the bush, however, might have consisted merely of a windscreen constructed of branches. Samuel Hearne reported that the Chipewyan tents were made from caribou skins "in the hair" for both summer and winter, while George Keith at Great Bear Lake reported that dressed skins were used.79 In winter some of the Gwich'in bands constructed a semisubterranean house that could provide shelter for two or more families. A pit of about a metre in depth and four to six metres across was excavated, with posts erected to support a roof of sewn birchbark sheets and a layer of moss or sod. The floor was covered with spruce boughs.80 Some of the houses had half their floors covered for the sleeping area and the remaining floor excavated further for a hearth and living area, the latter being lined with split logs as flooring. The doorway was built in the middle of one end of the house, with a covered "porch" attached. Driftwood could also be employed in areas where tree growth was limited. Neighbouring Inuit groups constructed similar dwellings, but it is not known if the technique was used by other Dene groups. Transportation technology also varied from region to region. Perhaps the most distinctive was the Chipewyan sled, made of caribou skin and wood. Temporary sleds made only of caribou skin were used in the early winter, but in heavier snow conditions a more substantial sled was built from a wooden frame covered in caribou skins into which a load could be lashed. The sleds were usually two and a half to three metres long and slightly over a third of a metre wide, although larger sleds were also made. The front end was turned up in a characteristic semicircular form.8' The sled was pulled by a person (often a woman, since women were considered to be stronger than men) rather than a dog. The Chipewyan did keep dogs, but
35 Life in the Eighteenth Century
loads were packed on the dogs' backs rather than onto a travois, or sled.82 There is some evidence to suggest that the Dogrib once opposed the use of dogs as beasts of burden, possibly because of their belief in a dog's role in the origins of their nation.83 However, dogs were used as pack animals by the Mountain, Beaver, BearLake, and possibly Gwich'in people. The question of water transportation technology is an interesting one. Did any of the Dene groups build canoes before they were drawn into the fur trade economy? The evidence is mixed. In the 16908 Nicholas Jeremie reported that the "Dogrib" people (probably meaning the Chipewyan) came to Hudson Bay on foot, "for they never use canoes."84 The first Chipewyan visitors to the Hudson's Bay Company post at Churchill in the 17205 also came on foot, dragging their furs and provisions in sleds overland. Thus their visits were mostly in late fall or early spring, when the temperatures were moderate but there was sufficient snow on the ground to permit the use of sleds.8-5 The HBC traders were anxious to convince the Chipewyan to adopt the use of canoes, arguing that larger loads of furs could be carried more rapidly in the canoe, thereby lessening the hardship of travel and increasing the potential returns for the company. Arrangements were made for Cree traders to demonstrate the construction and use of birch-bark canoes.86 By the end of the century, Alexander Mackenzie could still remark that "the Chepewyans go North-West from hence [near Portage la Loche] to the barren grounds, which are their own country, without the assistance of canoes."87 Certainly, it seems unlikely that bands living seasonally on the Barren Grounds or in the woodland transition zone would have access to bark in sufficient quantities to make bark canoes feasible. Nevertheless, other observers commented that the Chipewyan did, in fact, build canoes. In 1689, while searching for the Dogrib and Chipewyan, Henry Kelsey claimed to have found "an old Cannoe of those northern Indians,"88 and in 1717 an HBC search party found the remains of a Chipewyan camp near the future site of Churchill that included "there Canoo cutt all to peices."89 James Isham provided a partial clue when he recorded, "These Natives has not the conveniency of cannoes, comming cheifly by Land, and making floots [rafts] to cross the Creek's, and River's ... tho' [they] do make cannoes further in Land."80 According to Andrew Graham, these canoes held only one person and were not suitable for longdistance travel.91 Anthropologist Beryl Gillespie is probably correct in concluding that the Chipewyan did have canoes before the advent of the fur trade but that because they did not use them to travel to Churchill, the early traders were misinformed. 92 The appearance of
36 Drum Songs
these boats and their construction techniques may only be surmised, since the Chipewyan quickly adopted the Cree building materials and construction techniques, soon passing them along to the Dogrib and others.93 Samuel Hearne's description of Chipewyan canoes as they appeared in the 17705 suggests that the technology was then in an interesting period of transition. Although built of the same materials as the Cree birch-bark canoe, these Chipewyan boats were smaller and lighter, with flat bottoms and "straight, upright sides" that came to a point at each end but were widest at the stern. Hearne's travelling companions seemed to carry their canoes more than they paddled them, using them primarily for crossing rivers and spearing caribou as they swam. A single paddle was used in most cases, although some people had a double-bladed paddle that Hearne described as Inuit-style.94 Another canoe construction technique known along the Mackenzie River itself was the spruce-bark canoe. Although nineteenth-century traders described it as a temporary substitute for the birch-bark canoe, the spruce canoe may well have predated the birch canoe among the Chipewyan, Dogrib, and Slavey. It clearly suffered disadvantages in comparison, though, so it is not surprising that it faded into obscurity in later years. Its construction was described by Bernard Rogan Ross of the HBC in this way: For this purpose, a well-grown tree, with thirty feet or so cleared of branches, is chosen; an incision is made down to the wood along one side, and the bark being skilfully raised in one piece, receives the canoe shape by being skewered together, and having a few willows inserted for verrandis to add stiffness. It is serviceable for a short period only, heat and cold alike destructive to this species of raft, by rendering the spruce bark dangerously brittle. 95
Perhaps the best known of the northern canoes is the moose-skin boat built by the Mountain people. Experts disagree on whether these boats predated contact with Europeans; some have suggested that they are nineteenth-century developments.96 It may be that the very large moose-skin boats are a recent invention, but it is also possible that knowledge of skin construction techniques is very old indeed. Because this canoe was much more versatile and convenient than the spruce-bark canoe, its use continued well into the twentieth century and the secrets of its construction are still known today. The raw moose hide, covering a willow and spruce frame, could be run against rocks in the swift mountain rivers without breaking, and the
37 Life in the Eighteenth Century
skins could be recycled for tents and other uses once the boat had ended its service. Much larger boats could be constructed using the basic techniques, and these proved popular on trading expeditions in the nineteenth century. Smaller skin boats, fashioned like the Inuit kayak, were used by the Gwich'in. It is also possible that the Chipewyan once constructed caribou-skin boats, but the evidence is inconclusive.97 Clothing styles and the decorative arts also mirrored regional variations. While the word "Chipewyan" allegedly derives from the Cree word meaning "pointed skins," it was the Gwich'in who were better known for that characteristic style of clothing design. All groups shared the basic design of a two-piece garment consisting of tunic and leggings or trousers. Moose and caribou skins were most widely used, though meticulously woven hare skins also produced warm winter wear. Both Hare men and women wore shirts tapered to a point in the front and back, trimmed with a short fringe and tied at the waist with a belt. The men's shirts had an elaborate fringe made of leather, and were trimmed with "the stone of a grey farinaceous berry, of the size and shape of a large barley-corn," which was sewn around the shirt across the shoulders.98 Alexander Mackenzie described the Hare leggings as being very much like trousers without a waistband and with shoes sewn directly onto the leggings. The Dogrib and Slavey also wore long shirts that extended to mid-thigh and leggings that came up to the thigh to meet the shirt. Unlike the Hare leggings, however, the legs were not attached together like trousers. Many people sewed moccasins directly to the leggings, while in winter, mittens were attached to cords and hung around the neck. A variety of headgear was worn. Headbands ornamented with bear claws and eagle feathers were popular along the Mackenzie River,99 while men in the vicinity of what is now Fort Simpson modified the headband into a "cap" when dressed for war. 10° A sketch by Emile Petitot dating from the mid-nineteenth century depicts a Slavey woman wearing a pointed cap extending down the back in a shawl-like design, but it is not known if this design was an ancient one or a recent innovation.101 Special caps were worn by young women at puberty in some areas. Hair styles were also important. While Hare women (and some of the men) wore their hair loose to the shoulders, other men preferred an arrangement whereby "that which grows on the temples, or the before part of the skull, is formed into two queues, hanging down before the ears; that of the scalp or crown is fashioned in the same manner to the back of the
38 Drum Songs
neck, and is then tied with the rest of the hair, at some distance from the head. A thin cord is employed for these purposes, and very neatly worked with the hair, artificially coloured."102 Styles varied regionally as well as seasonally and according to purpose. Everyday wear was generally plain and utilitarian, while ceremonial garments could be elaborately and beautifully decorated. "Every seam" might be ornamented, according to Mackenzie. Fringes were popular around the hems of the shirts. They might be simply leather cut into strips or "fancifully wrought in coloured moose hair & porcupine quills."103 The hems and seams were often "decorated with an embroidery of very neat workmanship with porcupine quills and the hair of the moose, coloured red, black, yellow, and white."104 Slavey women were noted for their particularly fine porcupine-quill work. The quills and feathers were also dyed, with red, yellow, and black predominating. Dyes were manufactured from red ocre, cranberry, certain roots, and charcoal. Although the symbolism of colour and pattern has been largely forgotten, it is clear that clothing, tools, and utensils were not decorated simply for aesthetic reasons. Clothing, as Judy Thompson and Catharine McClellan have noted, was a "second skin" that formed as much a part of a person's being as the skin with which she or he was born.105 Patterns worked into the leather or painted onto it might represent the owner's guardian spirit or act as an appeal for protection. Samuel Hearne's Chipewyan companions painted their wooden war shields with figures of the sun, moon, birds, animals, and imaginary creatures, while Slavey tents were painted with a band of red ocre patterns. lo6 The "first skin" was also decorated for ceremonial occasions. Slavey men used red paint on the hands and face, while a number of bands practised tattooing with "three or four parallel black strokes marked on each cheek; which is performed by entering an awl or needle under the skin, and, on drawing it out again, immediately rubbing powdered charcoal into the wound."1"7 Among the Gwich'in, clothing decoration was also used to display one's personal prowess and wealth. White dentalium shells, obtained from trade with coastal partners, were worked into elaborate necklaces, headpieces, and tunic yokes; the man or woman who enjoyed considerable spiritual power would be able to acquire more of these shells through trade and was then entitled to a conspicuous display. Those household utensils that have survived also display a variety of ornamentation and exquisite technique. Locally available materials led to regional variations in technique, although items could be spread through trade networks. Alexander Mackenzie noted that the Slavey and Dogrib traded regularly with the Chipewyan and Yel-
39 Life in the Eighteenth Century
lowknife for small pieces of iron and copper, which they used to make knives, awls, and tips for their arrows. Stone axes were used for splitting wood, while clubs, spears, and daggers were preferred for hunting. Slavey and Dogrib household dishes were made of wood, bark, and horn. In areas where birch grew to sufficient size, bark containers sewn with spruce roots were used for storing and cooking. If the bark containers were to hold liquids, the seams might be sealed with gum, although a skilled woman could make a folded double seam that was watertight in itself. Slavey women manufactured baskets from spruce roots, woven so tightly and expertly as to be watertight. A variety of bags were made from leather, netted babiche (for carrying game), bird skins, moose and caribou stomachs, and even the pericardium, or covering, of a moose heart. Antlers and horns could be manufactured into a number of useful items, including the lovely horn spoons of the Mountain people and the drinking tubes used by menstruating women. At ceremonial occasions, dancing appears to have been one of the most significant activities, both as a social event and as a spiritual ceremony. While dance techniques appear to have varied regionally, all Dene groups shared the circle formation. Alexander Mackenzie described a dance at one Dogrib/Slavey camp in 1789, in which both men and women formed a circle. The women moved their feet only, but the men carried a stick or bone "dagger" in their right hand, "which they keep extended above the head, in continual motion." Their left arm was extended horizontally and moved back and forth, "while they leap about and throw themselves into various antic postures, to the measure of their music, always bringing their heels close to each other at every pause."1"8 Music was very important to the Dene, who had a variety of songs for different occasions. George Keith described the love songs, lamentation songs, and ceremonial songs that were performed at Fort Liard early in the nineteenth century, noting that other songs performed at dance ceremonies were generally sounds made in imitation of animals like the bear and wolverine. '°9 It is very difficult to form a clear idea of Dene religious beliefs during this period, in part because the spiritual realm of life was (and still is) considered a personal and rather private matter not to be shared with outsiders. Early European visitors often concluded that the Dene had no religion because they seemed to have no practices that corresponded to European religious ritual or custom. In fact, spirituality permeated every aspect of life. The natural and supernatural worlds were one, and every person lived simultaneously in both the spiritual and physical worlds. Events were not randomly
40
Drum Songs
caused or the result of good or bad luck. Rather, the spirits were constantly at work, interacting with each other and with people. The universe was governed by moral rules that might not be openly stated but were nonetheless unbreachable or dire consequences might result. Thus, there were personal as well as community taboos. One person might abstain from the flesh of a certain animal; another might carry tokens of a personal spirit-guide in a "medicine bundle."110 In the hunt, a man was not "lucky" if he killed a moose; rather, the moose had offered itself to the hunter. In return, as a token of respect, the skull of the animal might be placed on a pole. : '' When a person died, his or her possessions had to be abandoned or even burned so as not to be touched by others. There were also blood taboos of various types. Blood spilled from an animal had to be carefully disposed of, and menstruating women could not cross a hunter's path or step over his weapons because of their particular powers at this time. Laws such as these had to be observed so as to keep the spirits happy, for an offended spirit might bring its power to bear against the law breaker. For example, beaver and bear would not give themselves to the hunter, or a person could become ill or insane. People were certainly not the passive victims of spirits' whims, however. Men and women who were particularly skilful could travel at will between the seen and unseen worlds and communicate with animals, other human souls, and many unnamed spirits. Dreaming was one of the most important means of travel. While it is not clear whether young people deliberately sought a dream experience at puberty through fasting or means used by other First Nations people, there can be no doubt that dreaming played a crucial part in every person's life. It was believed that during a dream the soul left the body and travelled to distant lands or to the dwelling place of the spirits. During a dream, people might acquire a personal guardian spirit to whom they would pay special consideration and in return receive guidance throughout their lives. A dreamer might be taught a special song by his or her spirit mentor for private use or for sharing with the community as a whole. A person who enjoyed particularly effective communication with the spirits might turn that power for the community's benefit and as a shaman could perform a variety of useful roles. The shaman might cure or prevent disease, answer questions about the future or about distant loved ones, or even invoke spirits against an enemy. In some areas, the shaman also acted as a confessor to whom people could admit breaking a taboo in hopes that they would be spared illness or other retaliation.112 Since disease was believed to be caused by the
41 Life in the Eighteenth Century
malevolence of spirits, it followed that if one attempted to appease the spirit, the disease might be cured. There were other important techniques used by shamans to cure disease. Sometimes it was simply a matter of constructing a special tent in which the shaman would fast for several days before the patient would be presented to him for a ceremony of special chants whereby the shaman would call upon the spirit who was distressing the patient to withdraw. A more dramatic technique involved the withdrawal of objects from the patient's body. An incision would be made in the flesh and a small bone or other object, said to be from the spirit causing the illness, would be removed.113 Shamans also provided advice on herbal remedies and in some areas were expert surgeons, adept at setting broken bones, manipulating misplaced organs, or stitching wounds with moose sinew. 114 In spite of the importance of the shaman to the community, every person in Dene society had the potential to enter into a personal relationship with the spirits; hence there was no need for an organized priesthood in the European sense. Both men and women were capable of developing contacts with the spirits; some believed that women were particularly powerful during menstruation and that they should therefore live apart from others at such times to avoid causing them harm. Because every person had at least the potential to gain access to considerable power, respect for the individual was fundamental to Dene society. While some people might make better use of their power than others, all had to be given respect or they might decide to use their power against you. The possession of power was an important goal, manifested in many ways. At the most simple level, power could be demonstrated by tricking someone into believing a falsehood or exaggeration. As Europeans quickly learned, "lying" was an art among the Dene, although dishonesty in other forms (such as theft) was unknown. At a more complex level, power could be demonstrated by the shaman's ability to draw on supernatural power to assist human ends. Power did not, however, mean the ability to control or dominate other people in the European sense. Authoritarian leadership was unknown; people respected their neighbours but did not submit to them. Competition between individuals was a means of testing one's power, and that competition took a variety of forms, ranging from competition in the hunt, to competition for a woman, to such leisure-time competition as the popular gambling-guessing games. Because of the emphasis on individualism, social conformity existed only in the broadest sense of the term. The band accepted certain rules, but each individual developed a personal relationship
42
Drum Songs
with the environment that others were expected to respect. People's choices of personal behaviour were accepted within a wide range of tolerance. It would be wrong, however, to conclude that the individual's rights were paramount. Rather, the community was recognized as an important unit for both survival and social pleasure. Good hunters had a responsibility to assist those who were less capable. As W.F. Wentzel reported, "When an Indian kills an animal, it is not his own, for he receives the smallest share, it is separated among the others who send a piece of their share, when cooked, to the hunter." 115 Reciprocity was equally important in interpersonal, human-animal and human-spirit relations. Thus the Dene valued a balance between individual autonomy and personal responsibility in society. While the individual would ideally be self-sufficient and selfreliant, he or she would also respect the autonomy of others and demonstrate his or her respect for them through generosity and hospitality. As a result, a sense of social cohesion and a recognition of tacit social rules were maintained even though formal social organization was limited."6 Dene morality and philosophy were also highly practical. Expediency was a major consideration against which choices would be weighed. That which was considered "good" was that which was useful, and that which was "evil" was that which was counterproductive or harmful in some way. Truth was not an abstract; something might be taken as true only after it had been proven by experience. One's goal was to make life as comfortable as possible while minimizing one's demands on others. The Dene did not share the Christian belief in the sinful nature of humankind. Nor did they separate the universe into sacred and profane or natural and supernatural spheres. People were meant to live as a part of the universe and not to attempt to dominate over it or to change it. In a complex system of interrelationships in the universe, the Dene found a sophisticated and practical means to deal with the problems of life. Flexibility, adaptability, individual initiative, and social responsibility were interwoven in a society that coped remarkably successfully in an environment that outsiders were later to describe as hostile and barren.
3 The Stone House People
The first of the Dene to be drawn into the fur trade were those who lived in the easternmost Barren Grounds and the woodland transition zone of the Churchill River drainage system. It was a matter of only a generation, however, before people as far west as the Mackenzie River were well aware of the presence of the "Stone House" people in the lands of their eastern relatives and had been influenced in a number of ways by their activities. In order to understand the important changes of the early eighteenth century, one must first consider the development of the North American fur trade as a whole. During the sixteenth century, large numbers of French fishermen regularly crossed the North Atlantic. Many of them spent time ashore, where they met the peoples of the eastern coasts and eventually developed trade relationships with them. A major trade centre appeared at Tadoussac on the north shore of the St Lawrence River, where the French met the Montagnais from the north and the Algonquin from the north and near west. The availability of fine northern pelts combined with a growing demand in Europe for fur clothing stimulated the entrepreneurial energies of a number of French merchants and led to the founding of the colony of New France and the granting of monopoly trade rights there to a group of French entrepreneurs. French imperial interests were quickly challenged by the Dutch and the British, and the race to exploit the resources of North America was under way.
44 Drum Songs
A high demand for furs and a willingness of the Native people to supply them put considerable pressure on the animal populations of the east coast, and it was not long before the original trading partners of the French were looking further afield for their supply. The Algonquin made use of their contacts with neigbours to the north (the Cree) and west (the Ojibwa) who inhabited areas of the Hudson Bay Lowlands and the Canadian Shield. The Algonquin established themselves as middlemen in this trade, gathering furs from the interior Indians who had done the actual hunting, then carrying the furs to the French, with whom they were traded at a profit. In order to protect their position as middlemen, the Algonquin controlled the major water routes, discouraged the French from inland trade, and negotiated military and political alliances with the French against the Iroquois, who were also interested in developing a trade with Europeans. War erupted periodically as the Algonquin, Mohawk, Montagnais, and Huron struggled for the advantage. For a brief time, the Huron usurped the role of primary traders with the French, but then were defeated by a combination of disease and warfare in 1648—50. At about the same time the Algonquin themselves began to scatter, no longer able to maintain their position as middlemen. Now the Ojibwa and Cree were able to make direct contacts with the French. The Jesuits established missions among the Ojibwa in the i66os and 16705 and among the Cree to the north in the i68os, partly to maintain the political ties necessary for a trading relationship. Among the first Frenchmen to trade directly with the Cree and Ojibwa were Pierre-Esprit Radisson and Medart Chouart, Sieur des Groseilliers. Realizing the potential of the new trade, they attempted to convince the French to support their endeavour, but without success. They therefore turned to the English and eventually persuaded a group of English merchants and courtiers to provide the financial backing for a major trade expedition from the north into Hudson Bay to meet the Cree, instead from the south, which would have involved a long and difficult overland route. Their voyage of 1668—69 was reasonably successful, and in 1670 the British crown granted a royal charter to the "Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson's Bay." The company soon had established posts at strategic points along the coast: Rupert House, Moose Factory, Fort Albany, Severn, and York Factory. While the British and the French fought over possession of these posts and control of the northern trade, the European presence had already initiated changes far from the scene of imperial battles. The Ojibwa began to travel among their neighbours in what is now
45 The Stone House People
southern Ontario, west around the shores of Lake Superior, and northwest through the forests north of the Great Lakes. The Cree, who already lived in the vicinity of the Hudson's Bay Company posts, established trading relations with the English, and many soon found themselves playing a role the Algonquin had played a century before: that of middlemen. Some Cree remained on their old lands, some became regular suppliers of provisions to the Bay posts, and others formed bands of traders who travelled inland to collect furs. Two of the most important groups to which the Cree turned for their furs were their neighbours to the west and north, the Dogrib and the Chipewyan. Thus, the Dene were brought into the sphere of influence of the fur trade at least a full generation before any of them actually saw a European and almost a century before direct trading relationships were established in the heart of their own countries. It is difficult to trace the events of this period with any detailed accuracy because the sources (both oral and written) are scarce and often vague. It would seem that when the Cree were becoming involved in trade with the HBC, the Chipewyan were living in the woodland transition zone west of Hudson Bay and the Dogrib were living in the boreal forest beyond them. In 1694 Jesuit missionary Father Gabriel Marest identified the "Ikovirinioucks" (who can be none other than the Chipewyan) as the people who lived between the Cree and the Inuit in lands located at a distance of about 500 kilometres from York Factory. Beyond the Chipewyan, Marest identified the "Alimouspigut," a "populous nation" allied with the Chipewyan whose lands extended south to the lands of the Assiniboine.' Undoubtedly, these were the Dogrib, for in an account of the First Nations of the northwest written by Marest's contemporary, ClaudeCharles de Bacqueville de la Potherie, "Attimospiquaies" is denned explicitly as meaning "dog's rib."2 To the south lived the Assiniboine, the Sioux, and the Gros Ventre.3 It is not clear what the nature of the relations was among these various groups before the appearance of the HBC. Within a few years of the Cree participation in the direct trade, however, the interior was convulsed in violence and bloodshed. The violence has been almost universally attributed to the Cree acquisition of guns and their determination to prevent other Natives from trading directly with the Europeans. It was once believed that the Cree were attempting to expand their territory, but that interpretation of the warfare has not been satisfactorily substantiated, since there is still considerable debate about exactly where the Cree lived in precontact times. Certainly, the Cree appear to have become
46 Drum Songs
well armed very quickly. As Arthur Ray has observed, about 420 guns a year were being traded at York Factory between 1689 and 1694.4 While these guns were notoriously unreliable, they did provide the Cree with a strategic advantage in warfare over the Dene, who continued to rely on the arrows, knives, spears, and clubs of another generation. Within a few years of the commencement of HBC trading at the mouth of the Nelson and Hayes river systems, the Cree had apparently travelled to the sources of these rivers in their quest for furs and glory, generating fear among the inhabitants of the interior. The Chipewyan quickly learned that avoidance was the best strategy. In 1689, a Native companion to Henry Kelsey of the HBC reported that his people "was gone to far to ye northward for fear of ye southern Indians."5 There were sporadic attempts by the European traders to encourage their Cree trading partners to make a peace with the interior First Nations, but none was successful for at least forty years. In 1689 the HBC sent Henry Kelsey inland to meet them directly and draw them into the trade, but James Knight of the HBC later dismissed this peacemaking attempt as "careless" at best. "Guyer sends out Mr. Kellsey a very Young Man then and a little Indian Boy as if he had sent them for a Sacrifice," he wrote in disgust.6 When the French captured York Factory in 1694 and renamed it Fort Bourbon, they initially supported the Cree in their warring expeditions against the Chipewyan and Dogrib, probably in order to encourage their own political alliance with the Cree and cement the new trade relationship. James Knight accused the French of providing more than simply moral support for the Cree. They "did not only encourage the Indians in thare wars but Sent Men with them to Assist ym in it," he recorded. When Nicholas Jeremie assumed command of Fort Bourbon in 1697, the policy was changed. Realizing that warfare diverted energy that could be put into the trade, and interested in the possibility of drawing the interior Indians into direct trade, he "did all that lay in his Power to prevent the wars and make a peace," according to Knight. Nevertheless, Jeremie was unsuccessful, even though he took drastic measures with the Cree when he "Stopt tradeing wth them and shutt them out from comeing within the fort."? By 1715 warfare between the Southern and Northern Indians was apparently commonplace as far west as the Athabasca country, and James Knight was under the impression that "5 or 6 thousand Mens Lives" had been lost in the battles.8 Although this figure is undoubtedly an exaggeration, it is clear that the disruptions were significant. Many of the Dene stories told today describe the events of those
47 The Stone House People
years in considerable detail, and the names of several great warriors are still remembered. Eh'stontsia (or Ehtsontsie) distinguished himself among the Slavey, while Dza-ghal-iaze and Datsanthi fought for the Chipewyan. Dza-ghal-iaze ("Lower Leg Trembles Little") lived with his people on the edge of the Barren Grounds. The Cree managed to surprise them by approaching the camp disguised with the skins and antlers of caribou, but Dza-ghal-iaze's power enabled him to rally the band and destroy the enemy. He was reputed to have single-handedly killed more than half the attackers in one of his battles.9 Datsanthi was the son of a Chipewyan father and a Cree mother who lived "in the border country" between the warring peoples, identified by Edward Curtis as between Reindeer Lake and Lake Athabasca. Sometimes Datsanthi fought for the Cree, but mostly he sided with the Chipewyan, and he was feared by all as a powerful warrior who could not be killed.10 Numerous stories are told along the Mackenzie about Ehtsontsie. According to one, he was still a boy, considered by his father as too young to fight, when he first distinguished himself in battle. He was discovered by his people in the heart of the enemy camp, swinging his caribou antler club, breaking the enemy's arms so that they could not shoot their guns. The enemy bullets had merely bounced off his body, so powerful was he even as a child.11 Another story tells of how he singlehandedly raided a Cree camp, bringing back six women and three sleds loaded with guns and other trade goods so that his people could use the power of the Cree against the Cree themselves.12 Besides identifying heroes, these stories tell us a great deal about the nature of the Cree-Dene wars. The fact that the Cree had guns while the Dene did not is a key factor in many stories. As one Slavey storyteller explained, "The Indians got into a bunch to try to stop the bullets. They got into a line of ten trying to stop the bullets, but that way one bullet went through ten Indians and killed all ten."13 The Dene had to rely on their wits and power. Remaining for any length of time in large gatherings at fish camps was dangerous, so in order to protect their women and children, the men and youths formed war parties that went in search of the Cree. The war parties moved cautiously, sending scouts on ahead and camping each night in spots well disguised by bushy growth. When the scouts finally discovered an enemy camp, the party would move out silently to surround it and await the leader's signal to attack. Generally, the idea was to eliminate all the inhabitants of the tents, but sometimes young women were captured and brought back to join the band. The Dene were also anxious to seize whatever goods the Cree had with them, particularly guns, knives, blankets, and cooking utensils. These
48 Drum Songs
items not only were useful, but were believed to be the source of the Cree power that the Dene desperately wanted for themselves. A successful skirmish was a cause for celebration, but as one story goes, joy was never long-lived, for the people knew "there was always war."14 In spite of the advantages enjoyed by the Cree and their Assiniboine allies, their victory was not automatically assured. The firearms they obtained from the traders were unreliable, particularly in very cold weather. Once the supply of ammunition was gone, the guns were useless, and a party of warriors far from home and from the source of powder and shot could not easily replenish the supply. War parties that had wandered into unfamiliar territory also faced the danger of food shortages, since they would not be aware of the best places to obtain fish and game. A visitor to York Factory noted the outcome of one such expedition as reported to him by a participant. Of thirty warriors who had set out against the Dogrib, "he was the only one who returned, all the rest being either killed, or perished through Fatigue or want of Food.'"5 The Cree faced particular risks when they ventured into the Barren Grounds and woodland transition zones, since they lacked the Chipewyan's knowledge of the specialized techniques required to survive in that country. It is not surprising, then, that most of the battles took place in the forests and that the Dene were able to retreat periodically to relative safety in the lands of the great caribou herds. Clearly, though, the situation had grown intolerable by the early 17005. The Dene realized that they would somehow have to reach the source of the Cree supply of guns and other powerful goods. What was to be done? According to tradition, the various Dene bands had not always been at peace with one another. Disputes over women and contests of power had led to ongoing feuds and raids, although these were apparently rather less destructive than the warfare against the Cree. The realization that the Cree represented a common enemy that had to be stopped brought a number of Dene bands together in the summer of 1715. As James Knight of the HBC learned, the Chipewyan made a peace at that time with the Yellowknife and "with other Indians to the Westwards to Join all against there Common Enemy that Destroys them all."16 That alliance was to prove a crucial turning-point in Dene history. Whether or not that alliance in and of itself would have proven sufficient to intimidate the Cree will never be known, for another series of events at York Factory played quickly into the hands of the Dene. About two years earlier, a Cree party had arrived at the Bay
49 The Stone House People
with two young women who had been captured from the Chipewyan. One of them was named Thanadelthur ("jumping marten" or "marten shake"). According to Chipewyan tradition, she was amazed when she realized that the Cree did not make all the weapons and utensils that gave them power, but that these had been obtained from the "Stone House" people in return for furs.' 7 Thanadelthur, whom James Knight described as a woman with "an Extraordinary Vivacity of Apprehension,"'8 quickly realized the potential utility of her discovery. Speaking to Knight through a Cree interpreter, she identified herself and promised that if he would assist her in returning safely to her people, the Chipewyan would become trade partners with the HBC, for their country was rich not only in furs but in a wonderful yellow metal of which "heads & handcuffs" were made.19 Thanadelthur could not have held out a better inducement to Knight and the HBC. Ever since Kelsey's failure to negotiate a peace in 1689, the company had been anxious for opportunities to break the Cree control of trade at the Bay posts. The promise of a copper mine provided additional incentive, as if any were needed. In the spring of 1715, Knight invited the home guard Cree of York Factory to a great feast, at which he persuaded a number of them to agree to make a peace with the Northern Indians in return for gifts and ongoing special trade favours. He then organized an expedition under the leadership of Thanadelthur and William Stewart. By the time the party set off in June, it had grown to about 150 people. They headed northwest to cross the Barren Grounds, but there they encountered considerable privation, so decided to split into smaller groups to save their lives. Only two of the four or five parties chose to continue the expedition. Thanadelthur's group consisted of William Stewart, ten men, and a home guard Cree leader named Captain. Things went from bad to worse. Captain became ill and Stewart began to despair for his own life. Two of the best hunters were sent off in an attempt to secure the food that would keep them all from starving, but they became permanently separated from the group and eventually made their way back to York Factory without seeing the others again. When the remainder of the group finally discovered a Chipewyan campsite, they learned that a party of Cree had just attacked; nine recently dead bodies were still lying in one of the tents and the other inhabitants had fled. William Stewart and Captain concluded that their months of toil had been in vain, but Thanadelthur took command of the situation. She pressured Stewart to remain at the camp while she went in pursuit of her countrymen. In fear of being attacked themselves, the Cree peace party fortified their campsite with a palisade and settled in to wait.
50 Drum Songs
Thanadelthur succeeded in locating her people a short distance away in a large camp of some 400 individuals. Initially, they were reluctant to agree to accompany her to meet the white man and his Cree companions, but she continued to pressure them until she "had made herself so hoarse with her perpetual! talking ... that she could hardly Speak."20 The people finally agreed to take the risk, and she escorted a large group of 160 men back to Stewart's camp. Her expedition had taken ten days, and Stewart and Captain had given up hope of seeing her again; when she at last returned, they had been about to break camp. A long parley followed, which was later reported to James Knight in this way: Stewart bid the Capt tell them Indians what they were come about and when the woman had told them they had no hand in killing there Country men nor did not know it twill they found them dead nor they did not come upon any other Account then but to make Peace so he pulled out his pipe and Stemm and made a Long harrangue of the Sacredness of that thing & that it was not to be touched without they ware resolved to be true and perform what it was brought there fore and Smoked in then he Lighted it and handed it about and after everyone had taken so many whiffs as was agreed on and all had takeing it none refuseing it he told them they were now to be perpetuall friends with that they all give thanks and a Shoot and Rised up and stroked them all on the head. 21
The parties spent about two days together, exchanging goods and celebrating. When they separated, young men from each nation were adopted into families of the other as a traditional sign of friendship and good faith. Thanadelthur returned with the Cree to York, where Knight welcomed her and gave her full credit for being "the Chief Instrument in finishing of it what has been done."22 Knight was overly optimistic in his conclusion that a peace had been achieved, as will be seen. But the event was important because it brought the HBC and a large body of Chipewyan together for the first time and made the Chipewyan aware that the HBC was interested in trading with them, regardless of what the Cree had led them to believe. The willingness of one band of Cree to participate in the negotiations indicates that the Cree were beginning to lose confidence in their ability to dominate the interior nations. The reasons for this change of heart are not clear. Knight believed it was because the warfare had reached a point of counterproductivity, with too many Cree and Assiniboine casualties, and because some of the enemy had managed to acquire guns, thereby removing that particular advantage enjoyed by the Cree.23
51 The Stone House People Several of Thanadelthur's country people had returned with her to York Factory, where Knight spoke to them at length, offering to open a trading post exclusively for their patronage. The Chipewyan were not immediately convinced. They told Knight that they would not trade there, fearing that the HBC would do them harm. But when Knight promised that he would trade guns to them, they quickly changed their minds and guaranteed that if such were the case, many of their people would come to Churchill within two or three years and "would be very gladd of Goods and love us when they came to Understand we were there friends."24 Two Northern Indian boys brought several pieces of copper to show Knight, and explained how they mined and worked it. Knight was delighted that Thanadelthur's information had been so accurate. Following this first success, Thanadelthur began to devise a plan for the opening of a regular trade to supply her people with guns and household goods. She suggested that the HBC establish a new post exclusively for the Chipewyan, and proposed a location just to the north at Churchill River. She promised that she would return to her people to tell them about the post and what the HBC wanted in return for its goods. Knight pressed her about the copper mines, and she agreed to go among the people who dealt in copper and copper goods to negotiate with them. Obviously, Thanadelthur considered this last mission somewhat less desirable, for in return she demanded that Knight make her brother a trade captain. She anticipated that these travels would require about two years to complete. Thanadelthur's determination was based on her recognition of the significance of direct trade between her people and the HBC. Access to guns could tip the balance in the war against the Cree, and the metal tools and household utensils would make the lives of Dene women very much more comfortable in the facilitation of everyday tasks. Throughout the fall of 1716 and into the winter, Thanadelthur and Knight discussed and refined her plan. They also apparently became close friends. When an unnamed illness broke out among the people at the fort, Knight was not particularly concerned, but when Thanadelthur fell ill in December, he became very anxious indeed. For seven weeks he nursed her in his own quarters. At the beginning of February, she took a turn for the worse. Realizing that she was going to die, Thanadelthur sent for a young English boy she and Knight had chosen as an ambassador, and spent the last four days of her life teaching him about her people and how to go about trading with them. Clearly, the plan was of tremendous personal significance to her. On the fifth of February 1717, she died and was buried at York Factory. James Knight was devastated. "The finest Weather
52 Drum Songs
wee have had any Day this Season," he wrote in his journal, "but the most Melancholyst by the Loss of her."25 Meanwhile, the incursions of the Cree against the Chipewyan and other Dene groups had by no means come to an end. Even while Thanadelthur was facilitating the discussions between her people and the Cree, one of the groups that had split from the original peace party was attacking a camp of Northern Indians, later pretending to James Knight that they had been "forcd to kill some of them in there own Defence."26 The tension in the countryside was matched by the tension at York Factory itself. Knight was thrown into a state of genuine panic by the deaths of Thanadelthur and all of the other Chipewyan staying at the fort. There were no reliable translators left, and since he had no means to explain the truth to them, Knight was afraid that the Chipewyan would think that their country people had been deliberately murdered. The Cree took advantage of Knight's panic to apply additional pressure on the HBC. They resented the English interference in their warfare against the Northern Indians and hoped to prevent the HBC from opening a direct trade with the Dene. When Cree trading parties arrived at York in the spring of 1717, Knight held long parleys with them, attempting to smooth relations and prevent the Cree from setting out on further war excursions. He ultimately concluded that the only solution was to proceed with the construction of a northern post for the Chipewyan so that they could become as well armed as the Cree and "Strike Such a Terror in ye Rogues that they will lay by all their Designs of ever more going to Warr with them."27 So highly did Knight value the Northern Indian trade that he even determined to cut off the Cree supply of ammunition if they persisted in their opposition to his plans.28 At the end of March, one of the Cree trading captains and his wife arrived at York Factory accompanied by an eighteen-year-old Northern Indian boy who turned out to be the son of a prominent Indian whom Thanadelthur had known. Knight eagerly bargained with the chief in an attempt to get him to leave the youth at the post, but the chief was "not willing to part with him upon no Account."29 He would not even leave the youth at York Factory temporarily to do some translating. Knight seemed about to lapse into despair again, but early in May another Cree hunter arrived with a Northern Indian woman who had been captured as a slave. The men agreed to part with her for a large number of trade goods, and Knight at last had found the means to communicate with the Northern Indians.30 In the meantime, the company's carpenter was busy constructing a boat to transport the men and supplies necessary for the construe-
53 The Stone House People tion of the new post that Thanadelthur had proposed for the mouth of the Churchill River. William Stewart was again chosen for the mission, and he set off in June to select a suitable site and to begin construction. In July, Knight himself joined Stewart at Churchill River. One of his immediate concerns involved a rumour that a party of seven Northern Indians had been killed recently at Churchill River by the Inuit. Knight realized that if such a story proved to be true, establishing the new post would be even more complicated than he had anticipated. As it turned out, however, investigations were inconclusive. Stewart's men found a canoe that had been cut up, and the Inuit camped nearby had some pieces of red cloth believed to have been in the possession of the missing men, but there were no bodies or other evidence of a struggle. Nevertheless, fear of the Inuit was yet another problem with which all traders would have to be concerned. Other parts of Thanadelthur and Knight's plan began to fall into place. In the early part of June 1717, a Cree named Captain Swan returned from a two-year journey through the interior to Great Slave Lake, reporting that he had made a peace with the people who lived in a land that was "very full of People & a Great many Buffalo Moose & Beavor wth Bears" along a broad river bordering "very high Mountainious Land." He had spent five or six days with a band of "6 Great tents," feasting and dancing in a friendly way, until the Northern Indians explained to him that they would invite him to a meeting of all their people in the winter so that the peace could be confirmed through gift exchanges and the adoption of children, as was their custom.3' In August another party of peacemakers returned with confirmation of Thanadelthur's information regarding the fur and copper resources of the Northern Indian lands. They also provided Knight with more-detailed information about the geography of the lands to the west of the Barren Grounds, including a description of a great river flowing out of the "West Sea" (probably Great Slave Lake) and a second source of "yellow mettle" in a river flowing through the mountains beyond that great river.32 Although Knight apparently believed that this metal was gold, it seems more likely that it was a reference to the copper found in the valley of what is now called the White River. Needless to say, Knight was more anxious than ever to encourage trade with the people whose land held such riches. Knight decided to follow Thanadelthur's advice and reserve the trade at Churchill exclusively for the Northern Indians. He refused to trade with the Cree and Assiniboine parties that arrived there, and directed them to carry their furs to York Factory. The demand did not sit well with the Southern Indians, who felt that not only was
54
Drum Songs
their economic position being undermined, but so too was the political alliance between them and the HBC, which they regarded as an important part of the trade relationship. It required "a Great Deal of Care in a Man," wrote Knight, to deal with the Southern Indians, who saw him "Refuse them Goods wch hath traded so long & at the same time sell to them that are Strangers to us wch have been allways their Enemys."33 The following year, young Richard Norton was sent to winter with the Cree to encourage them to trade at York and to end their war plans against the Northern Indians.34 Ultimately, however, the HBC was unable to prevent the Southern Indians from coming to Churchill, and it was to be many more years before a lasting peace was concluded between enemies. The next phase of the plan was to communicate to the Northern Indians what furs the HBC wanted and how those furs were to be prepared for trade. A Northern Indian boy named James was kept at the post for three years to be instructed in English and Cree and taught "ye ways of hunting & Traping according to ye Southern Meathod" so that he could return to his people and teach them in turn. 35 The HBC had been told that the Chipewyan who lived closest to the new post had never trapped small game to any great extent; their economy was based instead primarily on the caribou. Smallanimal snaring was done by women for immediate household needs, particularly food, so preparation of the pelt had not been a major concern. Instruction was also required in the use and maintenance of guns. James remained with his people throughout the summer and winter of 1721—22, but he returned to York Factory in June 1722 with the disappointing news that he had been unable to convince his people of the value of the trade. He reported that "the Old Men are very Lazy and like Old Woemen so itt must be the Young Men" who were to be convinced to join the trade and "brought to itt by Degrees."36 Nevertheless, word about the HBC post at Churchill spread very quickly throughout the interior. Within two years, large parties of Northern Indians began to arrive, but most were prompted by curiosity rather than interest in trade. The first group arrived in 1718. Richard Staunton, then in charge of the HBC post, welcomed them with gifts of hatchets, awls, and ice chisels as well as a few precious guns and words of encouragement to hunt the furs that the HBC wanted to trade. The following spring, twenty-three men of this party returned to Churchill, but they brought only a few beaver and four marten pelts, which had not been prepared according to HBC specifications. The English traders concluded that the men had come anticipating gifts and had failed to understand the concept of
55 The Stone House People
trade, but it seems more likely that the Chipewyan were still warily testing the new relationship before committing themselves to any trade. A few days later, a much larger party, about 130 Northern Indians, arrived at the new post. Again they were empty-handed, pleading starvation and a shortage of animals to explain the situation. Trader Richard Staunton, bitterly disappointed, noted in his journal, "I admire at the Stupidity of these Northern Indians, to promis verry fair, yett come Eampty handed.'^1? He traded with them for any articles of value in their possession and attempted to convince them to return the next year instead of after the two years the Indians explained they would need to travel to their far-off lands. He also spoke with one of the men who had announced a plan to travel to the mountain "gold" mine. Staunton asked why none of the people had any copper to trade, and they replied that they had met with the Copper Indians but could persuade them neither to travel to Churchill nor to trade any of their copper on the spot. The information clearly proved to be useful to the HBC, however, for it was one of the first references in their journals to the existence of a distinct group of Northern Indians with whom the English had no direct contact. For the first few years, Chipewyan approaches to Churchill were cautious and limited. They travelled in very large bands of up to aoo people for safety, since they feared attack by Cree or Inuit enemies at any time. These bands arrived in spring, just before or just following breakup, and remained overnight at the post before returning to a nearby camp. The first records of Northern Indians remaining in the vicinity for any length of time date from May 1721, when several men agreed to hunt geese until the end of the migratory season in order to supply the HBC. Once the geese had passed, however, the HBC was anxious to send the hunters on their way so as not to burden the post with extra mouths to feed. The food supply was a critical concern at Churchill. Many of the people arriving at that post did not come to trade but rather to investigate the situation. While this cautious approach irritated the HBC traders, it made good sense to the Chipewyan. They were clearly interested in the potential opportunities of the trade but were reluctant to become involved without careful consideration. One major concern was a desire to discover the nature of the HBC relationship with the Southern Indians as well as to determine whether a political alliance was possible for their benefit instead. The Northern Indians were receiving mixed messages in their parleys with the English. On the one hand, the company was attempting to prevent
56 Drum Songs
any sort of warfare between the Cree and Chipewyan (which would, of course, interfere with trapping and trading activities), while on the other hand, the company was only too anxious to supply the Chipewyan with the weapons of war. The Chipewyan must also have been highly suspicious of the fact that the company was attempting to trade with both groups of people. Thus, while Dene women were anxious for the new domestic goods that made life easier, and Dene men for the guns that had given their enemies such power, they were very cautious indeed in their approach to the opportunities at Churchill. The distances that many Northern Indians were willing to travel in order to visit the posts are often surprising. People reported having travelled for between twenty-five days and two years,38 with the result that their visits were infrequent and they did not bring large quantities of furs. The distant Native trade consisted primarily of marten and a few beaver rather than the heavier buffalo robes or moose skins. Distance was only a part of the problem. The first Northern Indian traders at Churchill came on foot, pulling their goods on toboggans.39 Travelling this way was slow, and the Northern Indians frequently pointed out that it was also dangerous, since long travel times made the acquisition of sufficient food supplies en route a major problem. HBC offers of provisions to assist on the return journey were not helpful, since these would only add to the load that had to be dragged. To a number of HBC traders, the solution seemed to be to convince the Chipewyan to build canoes like those of the Southern Indians. As Richard Staunton recorded in his journal, "I telling then yt they must make Cannues & come in them in ye Summer & then they will gett boath Goods and provisions; showing them ye furrs yt we have here in ye factory, telling them yt one Indian yt comes in his Cannue brings more goods than ten of them."40 Those Chipewyan who spent their summers on the Barren Grounds did not have access to sufficiently large birch trees for canoe manufacture and thus faced a dilemma. If they wished to participate in the fur trade to any considerable extent, they would have to make changes in their hunting and territorial-use patterns. The decisions made by the Chipewyan in response to the new pressures were highly individual, and one group never presumed to speak for all in its dealings with the HBC. In reply to Staunton's pressure to build canoes and hunt beaver, one party replied that they would promise to "make Cannues & goe into ye woods in ye fall to Hunt," but that "theire is a great many of theire Countrey men yt will not be advisd by them but wil keep out in ye plains and baran grounds."4' The key issues seemed to be safety and economic returns. Seeing a party return from a successful voyage to Churchill
57 The Stone House People
without losses from privation or warfare served to convince some people, while others were drawn by good prices for goods. The subsequent nature of participation in the trade varied as much as did the initial response. Some people living in the vicinity of Churchill took it upon themselves to travel far to the west to inform their relatives and allies about the new post. Others developed personal relationships with Cree bands that enabled them to live and hunt together in peace. Scouts from as far away as Great Slave Lake were sent to investigate. Some visitors to the post remained for only a matter of hours, while others chose to remain for a season, watching the company's methods and becoming familiar with the techniques used for preparing skins to be traded. Some of these men and women decided to devote their energies more fully to the trade. One of the first Yellowknife to visit Churchill followed this last pattern. He arrived in 1722 with a large band of Chipewyan and remained behind at the post when his travelling companions set off for their own lands. After a winter at Churchill, he struck off in the spring and returned the following June with a band of forty associates, none of whom had come to the post before. Although the HBC had been urging him to bring copper from his lands, he consistently refused, explaining that "he thought he could do more Good in Gathering the Indians together to gett furrs." 42 He considered that the time and effort involved in returning to the Coppermine River was too much for the uncertain return, and he therefore made a place for himself as a fur trade leader. It was a matter of only about three years from the founding of the post at Churchill before the Northern Indians developed a new confidence in the situation. They "are not affraid as formerly," noted Richard Staunton in 1721.43 In fact, they quickly became aggressors in their contacts with the Inuit, much to the concern of the HBC, which now began to pressure them to keep the peace with the coastal people. Trade visits in which the Northern Indians exchanged knives and awls for Inuit arrowheads and copper lances were interspersed with more violent encounters in competition for coastal resources. The Northern Indians were also becoming decidedly more bold in their dealings with the Cree. In 1722 a party of five men travelled openly to York Factory to compare trade practices with those at Churchill, something they would not have dared to do only a few years earlier. Women and children began to accompany the trading parties more regularly, while the size of the trading bands dropped to smaller groups of five to seven families. The Cree complained bitterly to the HBC, refusing to limit their trade to York Factory and continuing their attempts to dissuade the HBC from further contacts with the Chipewyan. Finally, in the win-
58 Drum Songs
ter of 1724—25, the Southern Indians launched a major military offensive against several bands of Northern Indians who had been to Churchill to trade. According to one Chipewyan report, "a Vast quantity of their Countreymen" were killed and goods which had been intended for trade in the interior had been seized by the Cree.44 The HBC attempted to keep the Chipewyan from retaliating by offering them gifts to keep the peace, but the Natives were not convinced. As Richard Norton at Churchill recorded, "They askt me whether they must stand still & be knockt on the head Like Doggs or fight in their one Difence."45 Norton then tried to determine which people were responsible for the attacks and resolved to "use them Accordingly" when they came in to trade. But such measures had little effect. Sporadic skirmishes would continue for another century as the interior peoples pursued their own agendas and not those of the HBC. While distant Dene groups gradually learned of the Churchill trade, not all were interested in travelling enormous distances to participate in it, although the HBC was anxious to encourage them. In the spring of 1723, one of the Churchill regulars brought a "Strange Indian" from the interior to meet the traders, explaining that he had met with these people during the winter to "make a peace" and tell them about the Europeans. Communication was no barrier, "the Language of those Strangers being very much like our Northern Indians." The HBC gave the "Strange Indian" gifts and encouraged his escort to bring in more of these people next season.46 Instead, a number of the Northern Indians who had established trade contacts at Churchill began to set themselves up as middlemen with the distant bands. At first, the extent of this trade was modest. For example, a Northern Indian who had been given tobacco as a gift traded it for "20 Skins" from a distant band in ^ig. 47 By midcentury, however, more significant exchanges had developed and HBC goods had apparently penetrated as far as the Gwich'in lands. Those Chipewyan who decided to take on the role of middlemen began to form a unique group that took pride in their abilities as traders and saw themselves as distinct from their countrymen as a result. They referred to their relatives who were not interested in trapping for trade as "indolent and mean-spirited," gloried in "the respect which is shewn to them at the Factory" and willingly risked the hazards of lengthy journeys to obtain furs.48 Some of the Chipewyan middlemen, like Matonabbee, used gifts and powers of persuasion to induce their countrymen to provide them with furs, 4 ^ while others were less particular about their techniques, as Samuel Hearne reported: "And though several of the Copper Indians have
59 The Stone House People Table 3.1 Northern Natives Visiting Churchill, 1719-35 (Based on HBC Post Journal Identification) Year
1719 1720 1721 1722 1723 1724 1725 1726
1727 1728 1729 1730 1731 1732 1733 1734 1735
Men
Women and Children
24
1
48
63
10
104 80 2
116 7
2
Not Classified
Total
23 ? 53 _59
155 23 117 84 89 65 123 12 + 80 27 ? 53 _59
117 30 51 +
117 146 58 +
130 23 6 84 79 65 19 12 +
Source: HBCA E.42/a/l-15.
visited Churchill, in the capacity of servants to the Northern Indians, and were generally sent back loaded with presents for their countrymen, yet the Northern Indians always plundered them of the whole soon after they left the Fort ... it is a political scheme of our Northern traders to prevent such an intercourse as it would greatly lessen their consequence and emolument."50 Another aspect of the trade over which the natives sought to maintain control was the trade in copper. As has been noted, the English were as much interested in the mineral resources of the northwest as they were in its furs, and considerable energy was devoted to eliciting information about the source of the copper alluded to by the Chipewyan. Initially, the HBC hoped to convince the Chipewyan to bring copper from the Yellowknife in whose lands the deposits lay. The Chipewyan were either unwilling or unable to do so. One Chipewyan visitor to Churchill reported that his party had met with a large camp of "Copper Indians" and had attempted to convince them to go to Churchill but "they would not Condesend to it by any means, neither give them any of their Copper, though they had a great quantity with 'em."5' The HBC then changed its tactics and
6o Drum Songs
attempted to deal directly with the Yellowknife through the occasional visitor at Churchill. These Yellowknife sometimes politely refused to cooperate, explaining that the mines lay at too great a distance; at other times they promised to go in search of the metal but either never returned or returned with stories of starvation and warfare that had prevented the successful completion of their mission. "[As] for Copper," lamented Richard Staunton in 1721, "I doo believe we shall not have any from them or any other Mettle."yz Finally, the HBC decided that it would have to set off in search of the copper on its own initiative. Having been told that the deposits lay on the shores of the northern ocean, Staunton made arrangements in the summer of 1722 for the company's sloop to undertake a voyage of discovery, guided by a Yellowknife, a Chipewyan, and Richard Norton as interpreter. Fresh meat and fish were loaded on board, since the Natives refused to eat the salted provisions that were the standard ship's fare. Scarcely more than a month later the sloop returned, having collected the usual summer's whalebone and oil, but without having located any copper along the shore of Hudson Bay. Two years later, the impossibility of the plan seemed confirmed when another Yellowknife explained that a sea passage did not exist, as it was "all a frozen Sea" where the copper deposits were located. 53 There are several possible explanations for the HBC failure to convince the Yellowknife to inaugurate a copper trade at the Bay. The Coppermine River was indeed at a great distance from Churchill, a fact the HBC failed to appreciate until Samuel Hearne's voyage there some fifty years later. Resources were scarce on the intervening Barren Grounds in the winter, when the caribou had retreated to the shelter of the trees, so trips had to be planned carefully according to the season and would interrupt customary band movements. Furthermore, because the copper was located on the borders of the Inuit lands, unfriendly encounters were likely. In order to be willing to face these obstacles, the Yellowknife would have had to be highly motivated indeed, and clearly the HBC at Churchill was not offering sufficient inducements. It also appears that the Yellowknife people wanted to protect their position as guardians of the copper, a position that gave them power and prestige among their Dene neighbours. According to the widely known story of the Yellowknife discovery of copper, access to that commodity depended on the people following the advice of the woman who had brought it to them. A sacred trust was a powerful inducement to the Yellowknife not to break with tradition lest unforeseen consequences result.
6i The Stone House People There were other ways in which the Dene demonstrated they were not the naive traders that observers have sometimes believed them to be. On several occasions they demanded (and received) assurances of safety from Cree attacks if they were to continue trading.54 They were also price-sensitive from an early date. When fewer Northern Indians than usual arrived to trade in the spring of 1724, Richard Norton learned that the cause was the fact that HBC trader Bishop had been guilty of "Using them so Slitly Last Spring that they beleiv'd there whould no more come this Season" and that the Yellowknife man who had travelled with them had returned to his own lands because of Bishop's "Disincouragment to him."55 In order to encourage the Northern Indians to trade, the Churchill traders briefly attempted to offer better prices than those given to the Southern Indians at York Factory. Pressure from the disgruntled Cree soon put an end to the experiment. When the HBC succeeded in encouraging a few Northern Indians to winter at Churchill for the company's purposes, the Dene made the most of the situation. Not only did they make it their business to learn as much as possible about the Englishmen, but they capitalized on HBC needs by demanding to be made comfortable. "They are a great Charge in Cloathing," recorded one disgruntled trader, "as well as Smoking and Eating More food than five of our Men. [We] Could not Keep them Short by reason their Staying was wth our Desire."56 The Chipewyan and Yellowknife also had very specific demands for goods and could seldom be persuaded to take other items. Guns, powder, and shot were of the highest priority in the first decade of trade. In April 1723 one band took a number of kettles, much to the delight of the company, because "they never traded before but little" in that line.5? Even by the 17405 James Isham observed that the Chipewyan were not like other Native traders, being "not of that ambitious Nature." They preferred "Dressing very plaine; using their former Custom's, Seldom trading any finery for Such usses But what they traffick for is Chiefly necessary's for Life, such as powdr. shott Guns &c."58 The problems of distance and transportation were partly the cause. Natives acting as middlemen as well as those who had come a great distance to trade for themselves could not afford to be burdened by heavy and bulky goods. In addition, it seems clear that the Northern Indians saw no real need for many of the goods offered by the HBC. It may have been difficult for European observers to understand, but the Native peoples lived what seemed to them a comfortable and satisfactory life among the caribou and woodland resources. As Richard Staunton complained, a band of six Northern
62 Drum Songs
men and two women returned from a moose hunt having killed five moose but brought nothing of their produce to the fort, "thay being as fatt as so many White Bears & so Lasey yt they would not bring ye Skinns."59 Because of the Cree-Chipewyan tensions and the low level of demand among the Chipewyan, the HBC soon began to question James Knight's early enthusiasm about the trade potential at Churchill. In 1723 Governor Thomas McCliesh told the London Committee that only about 200 Native families lived in the Churchill hinterland, and that in his opinion "the trade at Churchill will never answer the charge of sending a ship out of England, and the keeping so many men there" when more business could be done at York Factory,60 Anthony Beale thought he could solve the problem by convincing those people who lived at a distance to move closer so that they could visit the post once a year instead of once every two or three years.61 In spite of the arguments of some anthropologists, there does not seem to be any real evidence that the fur trade precipitated a general eastward movement of the Chipewyan or any other Dene group. Table 3.1 indicates considerable fluctuation in the number who visited Churchill from season to season, but there is no trend towards an increase in absolute numbers in the first eighteen years of post operation, and the Churchill accounts do not show a significant increase in furs collected or goods traded before i75o.6a By 1730 trade at Churchill had settled into regular patterns. There were no more reports of major raids between Cree and Chipewyan or Chipewyan and Inuit; the general peace probably explains why the enormous trading bands of the early years were now seldom seen. Instead, smaller bands consisting of several men and their families would begin arriving in late May and early June. A few people would agree to remain near the post hunting geese for the HBC in return for ammunition and provisions. Others would come for a few hours or overnight to trade small furs (primarily marten) and the occasional buffalo or moose hide. Some of these furs had been traded from interior people, while others had been collected by the traders themselves. Usually the band would set up camp at some short distance from the post, then proceed to meet the HBC officers in a formal ceremony to renew friendship and discuss concerns that may have arisen between visits. When the trade was complete, the HBC might offer additional gifts of meat or other provisions to assist on the return trip. Occasionally a member of the party who was ill or otherwise incapacitated would remain at the post after the others had left, to be cared for by the company servants until such time as he or she might be able to rejoin the band.
63 The Stone House People The Chipewyan would then for the most part return to their summer pursuits. Some might undertake a longer journey across the Barren Grounds to meet the people of Great Slave Lake and Lake Athabasca, where they would exchange tobacco, powder, and shot for furs. This trade had to be completed in sufficient time to prevent the traders from being caught out on the Barren Grounds when winter set in. It seems likely that many of these traders wintered with their neighbours because of the travel concerns. The large summer and fall rendezvous at important fish lakes provided an opportunity for the exchange of news as well as goods. Apparently, these trade contacts in the interior were not always peaceful, however. The Cree and their allies south of Lake Athabasca were just as troublesome to the Dene as their eastern counterparts had been and were just as anxious to control the trade and possess the power that accompanied successful warriors. Animosities also existed among the Dene bands; at times they might unite to challenge a common enemy, but at other times they found themselves at odds with their own people, whether in a dispute over women, territory, or power. The extent to which European goods penetrated the Mackenzie Valley itself before the arrival there of the first white traders cannot yet be determined with any certainty because of the limited conclusions of current archaeological work. Glearly, however, most people continued to depend on household utensils and tools manufactured domestically. Other questions about the impact of indirect contact with the English at the Bay are even more difficult to answer. Were there more wars or feuds because of the activities of would-be trade middlemen? Or were these feuds an aspect of life that predated the fur trade? Were the power contests of the past translated into contests for trade advantages or for prime beaver territory? It was once believed that these disputes were caused by the westward movement of the Cree into lands belonging to other Plains and Woodland peoples, but archaeological and linguistic evidence suggests that this movement has been overdrawn. Ancestors of the western Cree have apparently inhabited the lands south of the Dene since well before the arrival of the HBC. 63 Another important feature of the indirect contact period in other parts of North America was the impact of disease. While disease was once an unrecognized phenomenon of culture contact, anthropologists and historians now believe that the importation of foreign diseases to North America had a devastating impact on aboriginal peoples long before permanent European settlement. The disappearance of the sophisticated mound-building societies of the Ohio and Mississippi valleys has been attributed to disease, while Calvin
64
Drum Songs
Martin has postulated that disease radically challenged the belief systems of eastern Woodland peoples, leading to important changes in behaviour.64 Were the Dene exposed to similar catastrophe? Again, the evidence is inconclusive. There is no oral tradition of epidemic disease at this period or references to a time when there were many more people than today. Anxieties instead seem to have focused on food supply and the dangers to individuals from breaking taboos rather than on fears of numerous deaths such as one might expect in an epidemic. Imported diseases do not receive any attention in the Churchill post journals until 1764, and it seems that the first report of an epidemic among the Northern Indians (apparently pneumonia or some other respiratory disease) appeared in i77o.6s In the final decades of the eighteenth century, however, there can be no doubt that disease had become a major factor for the Dene, including those who had never seen a European. The famous smallpox epidemic of the early 17805 is usually described among the Plains nations, but it also penetrated the Chipewyan and possibly other Dene groups. The impact of that epidemic will be discussed in the next chapter. It would seem therefore that the establishment of the Hudson's Bay Company in 1670 eventually brought new opportunities to the easternmost Dene as well as new hazards and challenges. The Cree acquisition of guns prompted Dene interest in acquiring similar power, while Dene women like Thanadelthur were also interested in the availability of premanufactured household goods and new types of tools. Once the post at Churchill had been established, the Dene were able to form a practical alliance to challenge the Cree and Assiniboine, who eventually relented on their earlier aggression. The balance of power tilted back into a somewhat uneasy equilibrium. In other ways, however, access to trade goods at the coast does not appear to have had a major impact on the Dene before the mideighteenth century. Guns did not replace snares for hunting, few other items of European manufacture were traded, and no significant redistribution of population seems to have occurred. Some individuals chose to adopt the role of trade middlemen, travelling further west than they might otherwise have done, but no large population movement resulted. Meanwhile, events were occurring to the south and east that would prove to be of enormous significance to the Dene and would ultimately bring Europeans directly into the heart of their lands. It is to those events that we now must turn.
4 The New Traders
While the Hudson's Bay Company extended its influence to a considerable distance inland through Native trade networks in the east, another European imperial power was expanding its economic horizons through the Pacific northwest. Russian traders, interested in the fine sable of northern Asia, had begun explorations in what is now Siberia as early as the beginning of the seventeenth century. Trading posts were established at Okotsk in 1639 and Kamchatka in 1706. Then in 1728, under the sponsorship of Czar Peter the Great, naval officer Vitus Bering extended Russian knowledge of the strait that now bears his name, and a scientific expedition in 1741 explored the Alaskan coast more extensively.' Russian fur-trading interests were not far behind. Because most of these early visitors were searching primarily for sea-otter pelts, inland contacts were not necessary for their trade. Nevertheless, goods exchanged at coastal posts began to travel along the already-established interior trade networks. By the mid-seventeenth century, the Inuit of northwestern Alaska were receiving Russian goods from their partners in Asia and on the islands between the continents, and by the early eighteenth century, the coastal Inuit had established themselves as middlemen in an important trade.2 Since their lands lay near the mouth of the great Yukon River, they were strategically situated for control of the entire inland trade. Although the various Athapaskan bands on their eastern borders were apparently long-time enemies, trade may have encouraged occasional peaceful exchanges, while goods may have also
66 Drum Songs
Map 2 The Eastern Fur Trade
reached the interior after having been seized in raids. The Gwich'in thus had access to European goods beginning at about the same time as the Chipewyan in the east. Oral traditions have maintained the knowledge of the availability of iron in the west from very early times. A story told by the Hare in the nineteenth century explained that before the Hare discovered copper, they traded iron from the "Dene Antilopes" (the Goat or Mountain people), who lived west of the mountains. The iron came in small pieces no larger than a little finger, but was considered very valuable indeed, costing ten woodland caribou skins a piece.3 A Yukon story also refers to western iron: Long ago, an Indian had both an iron pick and a copper pick. Using the picks, he climbed up the steep icewall high on a mountain known as Nat'ayat, but when he got there, he could not climb back down ... So the man just sat there until he finally turned to rock. Before he died he threw his iron pick down towards salt water. It is said that is why the Indians there had iron. But he threw his copper pick towards the Interior, saying "Be copper on this side!"4
Further to the south, the Spanish and the English were also exploring the Pacific coast. Spanish settlements and missions were established in California between 1759 and 1770, while Spaniards traded with the Haida and Nootka in 1774. Four years later, Captain James Cook visited the Pacific and Alaska coasts, claiming the lands
67 The New Traders for the English crown. Conflicts among the three European powers over territory and trade followed almost immediately, until Spain and Britain signed an agreement to withdraw from Nootka Sound in 1794. The Spaniards soon began to retreat entirely because of domestic problems, and the trade of the northwest coast was left to the Russians, British, and a new player, the United States. In 1799 a group of Russian traders united to form the Russian American Fur Company, which became the most important trading concern along the northern coast. It was probably from its posts that the Gwich'in and Mountain people began to receive goods through the intermediaries of the various Yukon and Alaskan trading bands. At about the same time as the first Russian traders were visiting the Aleutian Islands in the mid-eighteenth century, the fur trade of New France was being pushed energetically westward, primarily through the efforts of Pierre Gaultier de Varennes et de la Verendrye and his family. La Verendrye was appointed commandant of the northern trade in 1727, and his responsibilities extended to the northwest in 1731. He eventually chose the Saskatchewan River as the most likely transportation route for access to the distant furs, in part because it provided a base from which furs destined for the English on Hudson Bay could be intercepted and also because coureurs de bois could travel from it, both to meet the Natives for trade and to stimulate wars to redirect trade alliances. The success of these policies is attested to by frequent complaints from the English, such as the following report from Churchill in which the clerk noted that "Last September 3 Cannoes of the French Wood Runners after their Returne from Canaday went into the Great Lake to the most Noted Places where the Indians Resorts ... threatening to Proclaime Warr against them Provided they came to trade here, Likewise to Encourage their Common enemys the Poetts to break the Peace with them."5 The location of the new French posts was partially an advantage to the Dene and partially a problem. Trade with the French could mean a shorter journey from the Athabasca country, but it also meant excursions into lands of the enemy Cree. Unfortunately, little is known about the Chipewyan and Slavey response to the early arrivals of French traders. Clearly, however, the Hudson's Bay Company believed there was a significant threat to its trade. The HBC responded with several initiatives to counter the influence of the French in the interior. Anthony Henday undertook an expedition to the Saskatchewan River in 1754, accompanied by a number of Plains Cree. Although there is some dispute about his exact route, it seems likely that the party reached what is now south-
68 Drum Songs
ern Alberta, where Henday negotiated with either the Gros Ventre or Blackfoot before travelling north to the North Saskatchewan River to meet with the inhabitants of those lands.6 Two years later Joseph Smith and Joseph Waggoner were sent to Cedar Lake (where the major French post was located) and south to the Assiniboine River, also to meet with Natives and convince them to trade with the HBC. These two men apparently made similar subsequent journeys into the interior.7 When New France fell to the British in the Seven Years' War, the HBC believed initially that it would face no further competition from Quebec and could afford to relax its efforts in the interior to a degree. Nevertheless, expeditions continued to be sent out from the Bay on peace-making missions and in attempts to bypass middlemen to bring more distant traders directly to the posts. In one example, the company became concerned on hearing reports of Cree war parties in the Athabasca district and sent William Grover from York to find the Athabasca people and bring them in to trade.8 A number of Chipewyan men were developing other strategies, however. Oul-ly (sometimes written as "Owl Eye" but translated as "Ledge of Woods") met with Moses Norton at Churchill in 1764 to report that he had been travelling with the Dogrib and they would be willing to trade if they had."Contrivence to ketch" the small furbearing animals that the HBC wanted. Norton agreed to supply Oul-ly with ammunition and promised to make him a trading captain if he succeeded in bringing the Dogrib to trade at Churchill.9 Oul-ly apparently had no intention of bringing any Dogrib to the Bay, however. He planned to act as an intermediary, collecting furs from the distant bands in return for the goods he had obtained at Churchill, then travelling back to the post to trade what he had brought. For the next few years, he lived with the Dogrib and Yellowknife between his trips to Churchill with their furs.10 Oul-ly was not the only Chipewyan to make use of such a strategy. The best known of these middlemen was Matonabbee. As a child, he had lived at Churchill, where he learned Cree and English, thus becoming very valuable to the HBC. He may have undertaken a peace mission among the Cree in the 17505 on behalf of the company. 11 But he also clearly had devised his own agenda when he undertook an expedition in the mid-17605 to the lands of the Dogrib, Yellowknife, and "Strong Bow" people, attempting to interest them in the fur trade. He encouraged them to continue their "Friendship" with his people and demonstrated the methods of hunting desirable fur animals and preparing the skins to suit the HBC. He found these groups eager for certain trade goods, particularly tobacco and guns,
69 The New Traders but less enthusiastic about the lead ball and shot provided by the company, since they preferred to manufacture their own from copper.12 Nevertheless, he returned to Churchill with encouraging reports of the extent of trade he expected 19 be able to bring in through appointing himself trader to the "Far Indians." Little is known of the exact nature of the dealings between these middlemen and their suppliers. A rare glimpse comes from Samuel Hearne, who reported on the prices charged by the middlemen in the summer of 1771. A two-pound brass kettle cost sixty marten or twenty Made Beaver (a unit of value used by the HBC equivalent to one prime, large beaver pelt). That price was approximately ten times the rate charged by the HBC at Churchill. A hatchet purchased from the HBC for one Made Beaver was sold to the Yellowknife at 1000 percent mark-up. The Chipewyan middlemen also traded iron goods for copper equivalents: one copper ice chisel was the same value as one iron ice chisel, while a used hatchet was worth one copper ice chisel and some copper arrowheads.13 The number of furs obtained through this exchange was considerable. During the 17705 it was estimated that almost 90 percent of the furs traded at Churchill actually originated from the people who lived in the vicinity of Lake Athabasca.14 The tremendous success of these Chipewyan middlemen was of concern to the officers of the HBC, many of whom believed that their own profits could be augmented if the interior nations were induced to come in to trade directly and bypass the middlemen. Moses Norton tried persistently and unsuccessfully for a number of years to convince Keelshies to bring his "Far Indian" partners to Churchill. As he put it, "The Northern Indians supplys them wth Iron work for they will get 9 or 10 Beaver for a Hatchet 4 or 5 for a knife &c which makes me of the Openion that ye Northern Indians will Rather be a Hindirance to their Coining to ye Fort then otherwise in order to keep that monopoly in their own Power as much as they can."15 Direct contacts between the Dogrib and Englishmen did occur sporadically, but the Chipewyan were able to maintain control of the furs reaching Churchill throughout the 17605 and 17705. In 1766 Norton was delighted to record the arrival of three Dogrib men with a band of forty-two Chipewyan traders, particularly since the three "never Saw any of ye Companys Settlements before." However, he also observed that they had very few furs of their own, having given "their Furrs to those they Came with in order to Protect them from ye Insults of their Countrey men they had to pass throw."16 Reports later reached Churchill that these middlemen could be somewhat ruthless in their methods and very canny indeed in their dealings
70 Drum Songs
with the HBC. The prominent Chipewyan trader Keelshies allegedly convinced twelve Dogrib and Yellowknife people to accompany him to Churchill with their furs, but en route he and his band charged their companions for the food that had been supplied to them while travelling. The price amounted to all the furs in their possession. When the empty-handed Dogrib were given gifts at the post, Keelshies "concerted a deep-laid scheme" to get these goods as well. Afraid to actually murder the Dogrib men, Keelshies left them stranded on an island, where they apparently died. Thus, Keelshies and his band had obtained not only all the trade goods from the Dogrib fur harvest, but all their trade gifts as well. Keelshies's friend Matonabbee knew the story but concealed it from the HBC for a number of years for fear of retaliation. '? The HBC seemingly was unaware of the extent of Chipewyan control of this inland trade before the 17705, but was encouraged by the fine furs reaching the post at Churchill and anxious to learn more about the distant nations. The company was also facing growing pressure in England from opponents to its monopoly who charged that the conditions of the HBC charter were not being fulfilled in terms of exploration and imperial expansion. Several small expeditions into the north were organized to meet these concerns. Matonabbee and a companion named Idatleaza (or Idotliaze) agreed to report to the HBC after a journey to the source of the Yellowknife's copper; Moses Norton was so encouraged by their report that he responded favourably to Matonabbee's suggestion that an Englishman travel to the river to see the lands for himself. ' 8 Norton was able to convince the HBC to fund such a journey, and in the fall of 1769, a young ship's mate named Samuel Hearne was selected as the company's representative. Matonabbee was chosen as principal guide, and a man named Chawchinahaw was hired to take Hearne to meet him. For reasons that are not clear, Hearne apparently did not reach Matonabbee's camp and was forced to return to Churchill. Three months later, Hearne set off again, although this time apparently no specific arrangements had been made with Matonabbee. Hearne's guide became lost, the party was robbed, and Hearne broke his astrolabe, so the attempt was abandoned and the party returned to Churchill. On the way, Matonabbee met the straggling band and provided food and clothing to enable them to return to the post safely.' 9 A few days after Hearne arrived at Churchill (towards the end of November 1770), an official arrangement was made for Matonabbee to guide Hearne to the Coppermine River. Moses Norton had concluded that if Matonabbee himself could not manage the journey,
71 The New Traders then it was an impossibility for any man. As a part of their agreement, Matonabbee promised that if Hearne proved incapable of completing the journey, then Matonabbee would continue the mission alone.20 On the third attempt the party succeeded in crossing the Barrens and reaching the mouth of the Coppermine, returning via Great Slave Lake to Churchill, which they reached on 30 June 1772. In terms of HBC interests, the voyage was not particularly successful. Hearne had not found evidence of a northwest passage, the copper deposits were too small to interest the company, and Hearne's calculations of latitude proved to be in error. In terms of Matonabbee's interests, however, the trip appears to have been very successful indeed. He and his people attacked and destroyed a band of Inuit camped at the Coppermine and established useful contacts with a number of Dene bands along the route. Upon return to Churchill, Matonabbee was honoured by the HBC, which proclaimed him chief of all the Northern Indians. Of course, that title was not recognized by the Chipewyan themselves, but it established him firmly as a trade chief whom the company recognized and respected. Hearne later recorded that Matonabbee became renowned for bringing in more furs than any other Native. 21 Meanwhile, in spite of the HBC hopes that competition from Quebec had ended with defeat at the hands of the British, a dynamic new combination of Montreal Scots businessmen and experienced French fur traders had begun to reoccupy the northwest. The vital trade centre at Cedar Lake was re-established in 1770, and plans were laid to move into the Athabasca district. By 1774 the Chipewyan at Lake Athabasca were able to trade directly with Louis Primeau; the Frobisher brothers (Joseph and Benjamin) traded at Portage du Traite and Ile-a-la-Crosse soon afterward. The HBC responded by sending Samuel Hearne inland to the Saskatchewan River, where he established Cumberland House in 1774. Furs from the Athabasca could be brought easily to this post, so the Canadian traders in turn decided that it was necessary to send men directly into that distant but rich fur district. In 1778 Peter Pond conducted a flotilla of five canoes to the Athabasca River, where he built a post and sent his men to gather furs from area Native bands over the winter. Both Cree and Chipewyan met with Pond's men, trading furs that would otherwise have found their way to Churchill or York Factory. For the first time, the inland people had direct contact with traders who were coming among them on their own lands. It was no longer necessary to travel considerable distances or to trade through middlemen. The HBC was forced to respond quickly to the new sit-
72
Drum Songs
uation. Philip Turner was appointed "inland surveyor" in 1778 and began a series of lengthy voyages to chart the waterways, gather information about the land, and report on possible transportation routes.aa That year, Robert Longmoor volunteered to open a direct trade in Athabasca for the HBC, but arrangements took time, and it was not until 1781 that the company made a definite plan to initiate that trade.23 Those plans were interrupted by a catastrophic event: a smallpox epidemic that swept across the plains and penetrated the northern interior as well. The arrival of new trade opportunities had brought with it a deadly counterpoint. By all accounts, the smallpox appeared first among the Plains nations and spread quickly to the Chipewyan, with whom they had frequent contacts along the borderlands. When one of Peter Pond's traders met the Chipewyan in the spring of 1781 near English River, he had no difficulty persuading the Natives not to travel to Churchill (or other points east) because of the epidemic, but for the people of English River, that meeting itself proved deadly. According to Alexander Mackenzie, another party of Canadian traders who set out in 1781-82 for the Athabasca country turned back at Portage la Loche because "they found, in every direction, the ravages of the small pox; so that, from the great diminution of the Natives, they returning in the spring with no more than seven packages of beaver."2* From the Athabasca district, the disease spread to the eastern Chipewyan. While there is no record of its effects to the north along the Mackenzie River itself, it seems likely to have affected these people as well, since they too had contact with the most badly afflicted groups. David Thompson was told, "From the Chipaways it extended over all the Indians of the forest to it's northward extremity, and by the Sieux over the Indians of the Plains and crossed the Rocky Mountains. More men died in proportion than Women and Children, for unable to bear the heat of the fever they rushed into the Rivers and Lakes to cool themselves, and the greater part thus perished."25 The actual number of dead will never be known, but the toll was clearly catastrophic. Samuel Hearne believed that nine-tenths of the Northern Indians had died; 26 Thompson was told half but guessed that it was more likely three-fifths. 27 With so many people ill or dying, it is hardly surprising that a general famine was reported throughout the northwest following the epidemic. From his post on the Churchill River, Hearne lamented, "Sickness and famine has made such havock amongst my home Indians dureing my absence that, out of 69 that I left all well on[ly] 32 is arrived here safe, amongst whome there is but 6 Men & Boys that can lift a gun, the Remainder being all women and Children."28
73
The New Traders
A number of important consequences followed. The most obvious was a rapid withdrawal from the fur trade. The luxury of hunting for trade goods was put aside while men and women struggled to provide food for what was left of their families. There is also evidence that people recognized that the Euro-Canadian traders had played a role in spreading the disease. As Alexander Mackenzie expressed it, "They were so alarmed at the surrounding destruction, that they avoided the traders, and were dispirited from hunting except for their subsistence."29 The lengthy journeys that trade middlemen had once undertaken were abandoned as people stayed in their own territories. Others apparently moved west and north in an attempt to flee the sources of contagion. There were political consequences as well. The continuing skirmishes between the Cree and Chipewyan were interrupted, while to the west a major confrontation between the Cree and Beaver was resolved. The origins of this famous conflict are unclear, although it has been suggested that the Cree had invaded the Beaver lands from the direction of Lake Athabasca in their search for new sources of fur for the trade.30 The Beaver allied with their neighbours, the Slavey, in order to challenge the newcomers. Stories of the ensuing battles have become an important part of northern lore. In the early 17805, however, the warring factions negotiated a peace, and thereafter the great river running through the Beaver lands became known as the Peace River in commemoration of that agreement. Undoubtedly, the impact of smallpox on both peoples was an important factor in enabling the peace. While the epidemic had a significant impact on the fur trade (the HBC paid no dividends for three years), it did not interrupt it entirely. However, people were no longer willing to travel such great distances, and the Canadian traders benefited from the change because of their inland posts. Samuel Hearne attributed a drop in trade at Churchill to the fact that the Chipewyan middlemen had begun to trade at Lake Athabasca in the early 17803 in order to avoid the long overland trip. Hearne also believed that these Chipewyan had abandoned their trade with the Dogrib and Yellowknife as a consequence of the change in travel patterns.31 Regardless of the accuracy of this conclusion, there was a sudden upsurge in violence between the Dogrib and Yellowknife, which was to continue for some time, as will be described. Coincident with the smallpox epidemic, the Churchill trade was dealt another blow. On 9 August 1782, Jean-Francois de Galaup, Comte de Laperouse, landed at Fort Prince of Wales with three ships and 250 soldiers, calling on Samuel Hearne (then in charge) to surrender. Hearne recognized the folly of resisting and relinquished
74
Drum Songs
the fort, which Laperouse proceeded to damage seriously. Hearne and the others were taken prisoner and the expedition went on to another successful attack on York Factory. Since there were probably few Chipewyan intending to trade at Churchill anyway, the destruction of the post was not as significant an event as it might have been a few years earlier. Several bands arrived afterward and camped in the area to scavenge through the remains. But for Matonabbee the news was devastating. More than any other Chipewyan trader, he had made a life for himself that was linked intimately to the trade arid was based upon personal ties with the English. In despair at the news of their defeat (and possibly demoralized already because of the impact of smallpox), Matonabbee hanged himself. When the HBC returned to Churchill in 1784, it was believed initially that Matonabbee had died of smallpox, but the truth was soon learned.32 By the mid-17805, the Canadian traders renewed their efforts to expand the fur trade deep into the rich fur lands of the northwest. An agreement to cooperate in the trade was reached in Montreal among a number of these business concerns, and the famous North West Company (NWC) was born. In 1785 Peter Pond visited Lake Athabasca, and the following year he directed Cuthbert Grant to establish a post on Great Slave Lake near the mouth of the Slave River. A competing firm known as Gregory, McLeod and Company sent men into the area at the same time: John Ross at Athabasca, Laurent Le Roux at Great Slave Lake, and Alexander Mackenzie at Ile-a-laCrosse. An interesting account of the first meeting between these traders and the people of Great Slave Lake was told to Emile Petitot by the Metis "patriarch" Francois Beaulieu in 1863. Beaulieu recalled that the "French" traders came to visit the cabin of his uncle, Jacques Beaulieu, on Big Island. Upon discovering that he spoke French, they asked him to organize a meeting of all the people in the vicinity. Both Chipewyan and Dogrib attended, in spite of the fact that they had been regularly at war against one another. The French traders appointed a man named L'inya-betpa (Dog's Son) as chief on the condition that he speak favourably about the trade with his warriors. "If you procure pelts and meat for us," they promised him, "in return ... we will procure for you many beautiful things which will help you to live comfortably." They displayed clothing, kettles, hatchets, and knives and attempted to convince the newly appointed chief that their metal pot was far superior for cooking than his woven spruce basket. They demonstrated how to use the pot, and when the assembly saw how quickly water could be boiled in it, they "danced
75
The New Traders
for joy." According to Beaulieu, however, they were not similarly impressed with the French tobacco, which made them vomit. A great celebration was held following the discussions.33 It was an important event for both the Dene and the Beaulieu family. While some of the trade items brought from Canada were undoubtedly already familiar to the interior Dene, others were new. Cooking pots, for instance, do not appear to have been carried inland in any significant numbers by the Chipewyan middlemen, but they were enthusiastically received by Dene women, who enjoyed the convenience of a readymade utensil. And in spite of what Francois Beaulieu recalled about the tobacco, it quickly gained acceptance and soon became an important part of Dene social and spiritual life, generating a new craft of pipe manufacturing in the process. For a brief period, it appears that there was more animosity among the Canadian traders than between the old Chipewyan middlemen and their partners. The climax came when John Ross was killed in a confrontation with Peter Pond, but in 1787 the warring Canadian firms agreed to put aside their differences and merge; Alexander Mackenzie was appointed to supervise the operation. Fort Chipewyan was established in 1788, and the following year Mackenzie undertook his voyage down the great northern river, hoping to find a route to the western ocean. In this expedition, he was led by English Chief, a former member of Matonabbee's band, with his two wives and two of his followers. When Mackenzie discovered that he had reached the Arctic Ocean instead of the Pacific, he named the route the "River of Disappointment," but his trip was important in that it marked the arrival of Europeans in the heart of Dene lands. The Dene world would never be the same again. When Mackenzie made his tour to the Arctic Ocean, he observed people whose lives had been only marginally affected by the fur trade. Most eastern bands still moved back and forth from caribou hunting grounds to fisheries, while the western bands continued to congregate at fish lakes, then separated to nearby hunting grounds according to the season and to need. A few bands had chosen to become traders to a greater extent; the Yellowknife had long been purveyors of copper and some Chipewyan were now making a trip to Churchill every two or three years to obtain goods in return for the furs they had traded from their Slavey and Dogrib neighbours. The Canadian fur traders in Athabasca therefore faced a number of problems. They had to persuade more people to use metal tools and other items of foreign manufacture, and they had to compete with the Dene traders for the furs. Above all, they had to convince people to begin hunting small game. While women had long been snaring
76 Drum Songs
small animals for food and some specific clothing needs (such as the Hare robes and blankets), the Dene economy was based primarily on fish and large game. Not only did the fur traders want different animals, but they also required new hide preparation techniques. Finally, traders in the Athabasca District faced a logistical problem. Enormous distances had to be covered in order to import the trade goods and export the furs; how could heavy items like flour and other foodstuffs be brought in to support the inland traders? The solutions to each of these problems were to have important implications for the Dene. The Canadian traders began with an important advantage. At least a generation before Peter Pond visited the region, a number of French-Metis had begun to arrive in a vital but little-known population shift. Some of these men may have been independent adventurers from Old Quebec, while others seem to have had connections with families in the Great Lakes region. A number apparently were connected with Cree families on the northern plains, so the extension of their ties into the Cree-Chipewyan borderlands seems a natural progression. They married into Chipewyan, Slavey, and Dogrib families and learned the language and customs of their new allies.34 Thus, when the Canadian traders began to arrive, the newcomers found people who could translate for them and the Dene had trusted family members who could explain the interests of the new traders. The integration of these French adventurers into Dene society occurred with surprising rapidity. As early as 1791, Philip Turnor could describe a Chipewyan man whom he met at Ile-a-la-Crosse as "quite a Frenchified fellow."35 Guns continued to be an important item during this new phase of the trade. There are hints in the HBC journals that the Chipewyan middlemen had not always been anxious to supply their trading partners with guns, and of course, the long distances involved did not facilitate resupply of powder and shot. Thus, the arrival of traders with a ready supply of guns and ammunition was an important event. Unfortunately, because the North West Company statistics have not survived to the same extent as those of the HBC, a breakdown of actual numbers traded may never be possible. It is also impossible to state (as has too often been done) that such and such a group of people acquired guns in a specific year and that significant political events followed because of the shifting balance of power. Undoubtedly, direct access to guns and shot did have important effects, but oversimplification and generalization can be misleading. The Beaver's acquisition of guns did not lead to a cessation of hostilities with the Cree; raids continued to be reported until well into
77 The New Traders the nineteenth century. The Dogrib's acquisition of guns did not lead to an immediate campaign against the Yellowknife in retaliation for alleged past pressures. Instead, raids were launched for a variety of local reasons. A dispute over a woman seems to have occurred just as frequently as a dispute over trade goods or access to hunting grounds, while revenge for past raids continued to provide important motivation. Guns became a part of the process and were not necessarily the cause. Thus, they were probably not as important a factor in the late eighteenth-century trade as they had been several generations earlier when the Chipewyan first gained access to them at Churchill. Another major trade commodity introduced with the arrival of the Canadian traders was alcohol. While brandy in small amounts had been offered as a gift at the English posts, it had not become an important item for barter because of HBC policy. However, as A.S. Morton has pointed out, the NWC found that rum could be transported easily in small kegs and then watered down at the trading sites, making it highly profitable. "The corner-stone of their trade was rum," Morton concluded, noting that in 1775 one partnership alone brought 1,000 gallons (4,546 litres) of alcohol in twelve large canoes to the northwest trade.36 The North West Company apparently believed that without rum it was difficult to convince the Natives to hunt for beaver or other furs. Thus, rum was both an important trade incentive and a significant profit-maker. In 1804 the NWC mark-up in the Athabasca District for dry goods like guns, knives, and kettles was 80 percent, while for "high wines" it was 420 percent. Only the mark-up for shot and ball was higher, at 490 percent.37 The Canadian traders quickly established a thriving trade in the Athabasca District. In 1778 Peter Pond collected 140 packs of furs with an estimated value of £8,400 (sterling); by 1792 the NWC had more than doubled that value to £19,140. Given that the total average annual returns of the company between 1784 and 1789 was about £40,000, the Athabasca trade was clearly of major importance.38 Interestingly enough, however, much of this Canadian trade appears to have come from Cree trading partners rather than Chipewyan. Laurent Leroux was ordered to abandon the post at Great Slave Lake in 1787 because few furs had been gathered from area bands. Alexander Mackenzie apparently had given up hope for the Chipewyan trade and wondered if he would be more successful by encouraging other Natives to move into the rich fur lands at that lake, writing, "I am certain, if the Chipeweans could be drawn away from there, the other natives would draw near, and if a rendez-vous
78 Drum Songs
could be established, an advantageous trade would be carried on every summer."3^ At William McGillivray's Churchill River post in the English River District, trade was also primarily with the Cree, as McGillivray found himself unable to convince the Chipewyan to venture into Cree territory. A post built for their convenience on Reindeer Lake was soon abandoned.4" Clearly, the Chipewyan were reluctant to participate in the trapping economy because it was disruptive to their usual patterns. People who made use of fish and caribou would not only have to change territories to hunt small game for their furs, but would also have to change their annual rounds and entire material culture. The Chipewyan were well aware of the implications of devoting time to trapping furs for trade, and for the most part decided that the costs were simply too high. Furthermore, with the Canadian traders moving into Dogrib and Slavey lands, there were fewer opportunities for the eastern Chipewyan to act as middlemen. It appears that these bands began to abandon trade participation, at least for the time being. The presence of Canadian traders in the Athabasca District did not mean the automatic establishment of a trade relationship with the aboriginal people of the area. In fact, relations between the various Dene groups and the Canadian traders were highly complex. While the Canadians enjoyed the advantage of already-established family connections and were willing to develop others, disputes over women quickly became the source of considerable ill feeling. When Philip Turner met a Chipewyan leader named Mis-ta-poose en route to Lake Athabasca, he heard a long, angry tale about the Nor'westers: "The method by which they get most of the Che-pa-wy-an Women is by the Masters seizin them for their Husbands or Fathers debts and then selling them to their men from five hundred to two thousand Livres and if the Father or Husband or any of them resist the only satisfaction they get is a beating and they are frequently not satisfied with taking the Women but their Gun and Tent likewise."41 While such an account might be considered suspect because Turnor was a servant of the opposition, NWC men themselves acknowledged that "trafficking of women" took place. On 9 April 1800 James Mackenzie at Lake Athabasca wrote in his journal: "This Indian brought his daughter, who deserted in the course of the winter from Morin, at Slave Lake, in order to be returned to her husband. (Morin). Mr. Porter wrote me, by Morin's orders to sell her to the highest bidder and to debit Morin for the amount ... I therefore kept the woman to be disposed of when the Peace River Bucks begin to rutt most, I mean in the month of May."48 When the Chipewyan men objected to such proceedings, Mackenzie cavalierly replied, "We would do as we thought proper."43
79
The New Traders
Because of the frequent marriages between the Nor'westers and their trade partners, it was once widely believed that relations "were of the best," as A.S. Morton put it.44 More recently, however, W.A. Sloan has argued that this compatibility was in appearances only and that "abduction, intimidation, and force" characterized a number of these exchanges.45 Clearly, the NWC traders considered women as valuable commodities, but they were not particularly sensitive to the feelings of the women or even, in many cases, to those of their families. The fact remains, however, that arranged marriages, wrestling for women, and the capture of women in warfare had long been a part of Dene culture. What made the Canadian behaviour perplexing to the Dene was the fact that the newcomers wanted to develop political and economic ties with the Dene while at the same time behaving in ways more appropriate to an enemy. Therefore, while it was entirely consistent with Dene cultural expectations for the NWC traders to share Dene women, the use of force and intimidation in these exchanges was entirely inappropriate for an ally or partner. The objections of male members of the bands were made clear; they must have been appalled at the NWC refusal to recognize their concerns. Another major issue that developed upon the establishment of NWC posts in the Athabasca region involved the arrival of a new population of Iroquois and Ojibwa hunters. Between 1790 and 1815, the Canadian fur companies hired as many as 350 Iroquois from communities in Lower Canada; the numbers who came specifically to Athabasca are unknown. Even less is known about the Ojibwa immigrants. Most of the Iroquois were hired on one- to three-year contracts as voyageurs and fur hunters. When their contracts expired, many apparently chose to remain in the northwest.46 Undoubtedly, others had chosen to come west on their own. Quite naturally, conflicts resulted over access to hunting territories. In at least one area, the NWC established a post exclusively for the trade of these eastern nations, being unable or unwilling to convince local people to hunt furs and provisions. At Lac la Biche in 1799, Peter Fidler of the HBC attempted to open a post that he hoped would draw some of the thriving NWC trade with the "Ottaway" and "Bungee." His plans were apparently thwarted when the NWC sent its men off to the Peace River district to winter with a number of these Ottawa and Ojibwa hunters and obtain their furs before they had a chance to visit the HBC post.47 Most of the direct conflicts with local Natives appear to have occurred in the Peace River district, where the Iroquois (referred to as "Montreal Indians" by the HBC) hunted furs and meat for trade with both the NWC and HBC. 48 The NWC was not opposed to encouraging "wars" between bands as a part of its trading policy,
8o
Drum Songs
unlike the HBC, which had always preferred to promote peace. As Joseph Frobisher explained in 1788, the NWC supported war excursions for other reasons as well: "The Indians with whom we trade are frequently at war with distant nations to the Westward which the Indians generally encourage, because on their return they come over a vast tract of country and bring with them large quantities of fine furs."49 As the HBC moved into the Athabasca District in the 17905, the dynamics of the trade changed and a period of intense competition ensued between the rival firms. Matters were complicated further during the period 1798—1804, when a splinter group from the NWC, known as the XY Company, attempted to challenge the others.50 Initially, the NWC used simple strategies in this trade rivalry, such as spreading rumours among the Natives regarding the motives of the HBC or ensuring that all the post hunters were away when the arrival of a party of rival traders was anticipated. But threats were also used. When Philip Turner of the HBC met a party of Chipewyan east of Methye Portage (Portage la Loche) in 1792, he learned that the NWC had told the Natives that "Mr [Patrick] Small was gone to England for a Medicine to kill all the Englishmen" and that "the Medicine is likewise to kill all the Chepawyans that go to the English." Turner countered with the boast that he was not afraid because he had a better medicine and, besides, the Canadians obtained all their goods from the English "and our Country people will not let them have the best."51 Even everyday relations at the NWC posts involved a degree of tension and violence surprising to modern readers. When a Beaver man at Lake Athabasca was unsuccessful in convincing a Chipewyan to trade a robe and attempted to take it by force, the Chipewyan sought help from Peter Pond, who "came and Cutt the Beaver Indian on the head with his Poinard." The Beaver man was later given a blanket and some ammunition as a peace offering.52 As the competition between the HBC and NWC intensified in the early nineteenth century, the violence associated with the trade also escalated. The NWC was particularly ruthless in its attempts to manipulate the Natives and prevent them from trading with the HBC. Sometimes the incidents did not involve the Natives, as at Reindeer Lake in 1820 when Hugh Leslie of the HBC and James Herron of the NWC fought a duel over which firm two Chipewyan men were to trade with. The Native response was to make a hasty retreat into the bush until tempers had cooled somewhat.53 Sometimes violence was used to secure furs. In 1807 a party en route to Churchill from Reindeer Lake "was seized by 6 french-men in 3 Canoes" and the chief
8i
The New Traders
was threatened that if he did not return to Reindeer Lake, "they would kill him on the spot."54 Beatings were used to intimidate the Natives. The NWC clerk at Reindeer Lake in 1807 attacked a Northern Indian who visited the HBC post and "Beat him to such extreme that he broke a Rib in his side."55 Violent intimidation might occasionally succeed in preventing the Dene from trading with the opposition, but the tactics frequently backfired. The HBC often gloated when it gained new trade in this roundabout way. William Todd noted in the Fort Wedderburn journal of 1819: "A considerable commotion was excited amongst the Indians in consequence of [Samuel] Black our opponent having severely beaten one of the Chiefs, who immediately after joined us with ten of his young men. Most of the NW Indians followed him all disgusted and complaining of their treatment by the NWC. The Name of the Chief is Ayuza, allowed to be the first [best] hunter in the North."56 Nevertheless, the HBC was not entirely innocent of using violence in its dealings with the Natives. At Fort Resolution in 1820, Neil McDonald was nearly shot in an argument over trade. A "pitch battle" followed in which he "received very heavy blows - but he retaliated twofold" and was able to seize all the meat and furs the Native traders had brought.57 The Dene responded to these threats and violent encounters in a variety of ways, ranging from a passive refusal to cooperate to an aggressive rejoinder in kind. One man who found himself pursued by a Canadian trader "instantly stopt & loading his Gun sat down on his sled very deliberately prepared," whereupon a few words were exchanged and the Canadian turned around and went back to the post.-58 In several other incidents, however, the outcome was much more serious. In 1799 Duncan Livingston was murdered by a group of Mackenzie River people who attempted to cover up the deed and place the blame on the Inuit. 5 9 At Mansfield House in 1802, a group of Beaver people threatened the HBC clerk and ordered him and all traders to leave their country. Two years later, a rash of incidents reflected the general tension: a band of Chipewyan attacked the NWC post at Fond du Lac, four traders were killed by Chipewyan near Fort Chipewyan, and a Beaver man killed two Chipewyan near the NWC post on Great Slave Lake. Rumours circulating in 1814 purported that the Chipewyan were plotting to destroy both the HBC and NWC posts at Reindeer Lake, and although the attack did not materialize, the traders lived through a week of sleepless terror. In several other incidents at Fort Chipewyan in 1817, 1819, and 1821, threatened and rumoured violence led to standoffs rather than open warfare. Thereafter, the once-friendly Chipewyan were
82
Drum Songs
treated with considerably more caution by the traders. "Those Chipewyans are a savage people," noted Daniel Harmon in his journal, "and they have as I believe, killed more white men, than any other tribe in the North West country."60 Some Dene successfully adapted the practice of playing the competing traders off against each other, sometimes so cleverly that the traders did not realize they had been hoodwinked. Because the HBC had a smaller share of the trade, its clerks were particularly anxious to encourage any trade and were thus frequently victimized by the Natives. The clerk at Great Slave Lake recorded this incident in 1818: To day an Indian came to our house all in tears and quite naked excepting a Small Rug he had to hide his privates. He informed us the NW took all his property from him - the poor fellow being displeased with them threatened to leave them — upon which they fell upon and gave him a sound beating — and as soon as he got out of their hand he run of to our house - leaving his wife and family behind him - We took pitty upon [him] and gave him a Molton Capot. After a while he want to go back to the NW Fort, in search of his family and promised to come for us if he could any ways get clear of them, bad people.6'
Taking debt from one company on the pretext of switching allegiances was an easy way to obtain free tobacco and ammunition, but playing on sympathies and hopes could earn even more valuable goods. Two years later at Fort Resolution, a hunter named The Pea sent a message to the HBC saying "that if we would send him a Pistole, Table Knife, Plate and some ammunition, he would join us with his whole band." The HBC trader added in his journal, "The N.W. I understand had refused to give him these things." The company complied with all requests except the pistol but a few days later received the reply that The Pea "did not wish to join us now, because if he did all his young men would follow his example and do the same - which would render the N.W. Pitiful - and this he was not fond of doing at the present."62 Another technique was to flaunt one's support for either of the competing firms in order to gain further concessions and trade advantages. At Fort Resolution in 1819, for example, HBC trade chief Grand Jeune Homme challenged the NWC traders to a fight. This fight in itself came to nothing, but Grand Jeune Homme returned to the HBC post "boasting of his exploits, and demanding rum for the manner he had acted."63 His allegiance was clearly not immutable, however, for the following year he sent four boys to the HBC post with a request for ammunition and instructions to tell the trader that
83 The New Traders
if the HBC refused to provide any, "they had strict injunctions to advertize the NW C of what furs and provisions there was at their Lodges. "64 In spite of these political games and the somewhat better treatment accorded the Natives by the HBC, the greatest amount of trade in the Athabasca-Mackenzie district belonged to the North West Company. Part of the explanation, of course, lies in the fact that many of the NWC furs came from Iroquois, Ojibwa, Cree, and Metis trappers rather than local people. But some Dene did choose to trade with the NWC. Given the nature of the NWC behaviour towards the Dene, there remains the question of why the Dene continued to trade with the Canadians at all. There is no clear answer, but there are some possible explanations. First, the amount of violence and animosity may have been overstated in the historical record. The evidence is largely drawn from HBC journals, since Dene oral tradition makes little reference to such problems. Furthermore, while there were many violent incidents at NWC trade posts, there were many more instances of peaceful trade exchanges in the Dene bush camps far from HBC observation. Large numbers of Metis and French Canadian traders lived more or less permanently with Dene families, assisting in the hunt and making arrangements for the harvest to be transported to the nearby post. The HBC had insufficient personnel to make similar arrangements before 1821, and the company had no direct knowledge of the more peaceful relations these arrangements must have entailed. Second, the Dene were reluctant to transfer allegiance to the HBC after having established it with the NWC. Being first on the spot held several advantages for the NWC. The Canadians spread rumours about the evil intentions of the Englishmen and used other devious tactics to prevent trade. Peter Fidler reported that following the deaths of a number of Chipewyan at Lake Athabasca in 1803, the Canadians buried the bodies in strategic spots where they did not want the HBC to build posts, for "they well know that if we trespassed on sacred ground that they would have a powerful handle" on the opinions of the Northern Indians, who could point to "the inhuman English ... [who] did not hesitate to build houses on their graves & even dance on the bodies of their relatives."65 Some Dene were also reluctant to transfer allegiance because the HBC supply system was not always reliable and there were too few HBC servants to "protect them from the ravages of the North West Company" should they decide to trade with the English.66 In fact, it would seem that the Dene response to NWC harassment was not so often retaliation or a move to the HBC, but simply a withdrawal from the trade. In 1815 W.F. Wentzel wrote to Roderick
84 Drum Songs
McKenzie from Great Bear Lake: "I cannot account for it, but, by some fatality or other, the Natives had taken a dislike to the Whites, and the reductions of the returns may perhaps be as much attributed to this unfortunate circumstance as it may be to the pretended ruined state of the country."67 The Hudson's Bay Company was unable to pay dividends to its shareholders from 1809 to 1814, while its attempt to move into the Athabasca District in 1816—17 was disastrous, forcing the company to abandon almost all its posts in that district for a season. A series of events occurring in distant Montreal and London soon introduced an element of stability for the white traders, however. Recognition that competition and violence were becoming counterproductive led eventually to a merger between the rival trading companies in 1821, changing significantly the nature of the fur trade in the northwest. The Dene response to the new situation will be examined in the next chapter. The introduction of direct trade contacts throughout the Dene homelands did not result in sudden or massive change for the Dene, but subtle changes were occurring nonetheless. There was no longer a need for the eastern Chipewyan middlemen to undertake lengthy journeys between Churchill and the interior; while some individuals continued to do so sporadically, the territorial sphere of the middlemen contracted sharply. The nature of the trade was also changing. Household goods, once rejected as too awkward for cartage across great distances, were now a valued resource. Alcohol was in great demand and ready supply. The trapping of small game animals, once considered a woman's task, was now largely done by men who wanted to participate in the trade and to obtain the admiration of their fellows for their success. A broader range of economic activities was also opened to the Dene. Employment on transportation routes was an option for young men, who also might choose to do nothing but hunt for a season to supply the fur traders with provisions. Women were needed to manufacture leather and leather clothing, with moccasins and mittens in particularly high demand. There was also the beginning of a tendency for individuals and some bands to become specialists, hunting only beaver and ranging over a wide area in search of their prey.68 Nevertheless, not all Dene had been drawn into the trade. The Nahanni and Caribou Eater bands, for example, remained independent, while many other bands participated only when it was convenient or when no other pressures intervened. For example, because it was not uncommon for the traders to run out of
85
The New Traders
ammunition, the Natives would head out to the caribou grounds where they could hunt easily without it.69 Trade was also abandoned when a hunter died, since it was customary to destroy all a dead person's possessions, including whatever furs he had gathered, and move the band on to new territory. When La Butte, principal trade chief for the HBC at Fort Resolution, died in the fall of 1820, Robert McVicar lamented, "The death of this Indian is the most severe stroke we possibly could have experienced, not only the loss of himself which the Company will feel for a series of years but losing the Hunts of all his Relations for this season."70 The HBC might well have been concerned, for its trade at Fort Resolution that year consisted essentially of the harvests of only three separate bands, one of which also traded with the NWC. While some imported goods were valued by the Dene, other domestically produced items continued to be preferred. Caribou-skin clothing was clearly superior, particularly in winter, and thus the Chipewyan continued to hunt caribou in the fall, sometimes to the exclusion of hunting for trade purposes, as Thomas Swain noted at Great Slave Lake in December 1803: "Eight Chippewyans came to the old Cos last night, they have come from there Canoes and brought nothing with them, they never bring any furrs from that Quarter, they go there in Summer (and very seldom return before this Month) to supply there wants in Cloathing which they make from the Rain Deer Skins."7' The HBC referred to the Natives as lazy when they did not hunt for trade purposes, and attempted to convince them that they actually needed the goods available through trade. At Fort Resolution in 1820, for example, Robert McVicar "delivered a long speech to the Indians" in which he railed at "the impropriety of their Indolent conduct during the winter" and pointed out the alleged "many inconveniences such negligence exposes themselves and families to, by depriving them of those supplies which are absolutely necessary for their comfort and subsistence."72 The attempt to create a demand where none had existed previously was not entirely successful. Such speeches were received politely and the trader was given momentary encouragement, but the Natives soon returned to the bush or to their camps and hunted as they wished. Perhaps the most significant aspect of this period of the fur trade was the incorporation of a new element into Dene society. The French-Metis who preceded and accompanied the NWC into the Athabasca-Mackenzie district quickly established a network of family and economic alliances throughout the countryside; they added considerably to the success of the Canadian trade while serving as in-
86 Drum Songs
terpreters and intermediaries between two cultures. Their influence was so pervasive that almost all non-Dene names used by Natives trading with the HBC were French: Barbue, Bastonais, La Butte, Capot Blanc, Francois le Noir, Grand Coquin, Grand Jeune Homme, Gros Pied (Akaitcho), Misere, and Pouce Couple among them. The Metis traders married Dene women and established families whose descendants are still found in the region today. Prominent among these are the names Beaulieu, Mandeville, St Germain, and Cadien. The HBC frequently lamented the influence of these families. The NWC "have a host of attached Half-breeds who are a most useful set of people," noted George Simpson in 1821. "We have not one of that description; their Women are faithful to their cause and good Interpreters."73 The children of these marriages not only were fluently bilingual but were also more inclined to serve as post provisioners or fur traders than their Native relatives, and the NWC apparently depended on their regular contributions to an extent that has not been generally recognized. As George Simpson explained, "These Men and their Meitiff progeny are generally more expert in hunting the Buffalo and Deer than the Natives and make considerable quantities of Provisions and Furs ... a lucrative Trade, which has hitherto been monopolized by the North West Compy."74 Most prominent among these new families was that of Frangois Beaulieu. It is not known when the first Beaulieu arrived in the northwest, although it was probably sometime in the mid-eighteenth century. The first Francois Beaulieu and his brother Jacques had established connections among the Cree and Chipewyan by the 17803; Jacques served as an interpreter for the first NWC traders at Great Slave Lake and Francois accompanied Alexander Mackenzie on his overland expedition to the Pacific in 1793.75 He had at least one Dene wife (a Chipewyan woman) and fathered at least two sons, of whom Frangois junior had the most impact. Born in 1771, Frangois junior had several wives and many children, initially forming alliances with the Dogrib and Slavey at Lac la Martre and later establishing a base at Salt River. Little is known about the nature of relations between the Dene and these new Metis families, but there is a strong oral tradition in the north about the younger Francois Beaulieu, representing him as a powerful man who was much feared. According to one story, he made a habit of seizing beautiful and powerful women from their husbands and killing anyone who attempted to stop him.76 Such a view seems to be substantiated in the HBC records, which clearly indicate that the English traders also feared the Metis men, whom they described as "bullies" and "villains."
87 The New Traders
Thus, the arrival of fur traders into the heart of the Dene homeland was a mixed blessing. The trade posts offered the Dene a new diversity of economic activity and a greater variety of material goods while rendering obsolete the old warfare against the Cree and Assiniboine. On the other hand, violence against the Cree was replaced by tensions and violence in their relations with the Canadian traders, whose Metis employees added a new element of competition for women and resources. Rivalry between the HBC and NWC provided opportunities for astute bargaining and gifts, but also introduced excessive amounts of alcohol and community turmoil. The old Chipewyan middlemen probably found their business considerably reduced and were forced to adjust. It is scarcely surprising that the Dene did not participate in such a trade to any considerable extent.
5 War Songs, 1821 to 1848
If the Dene were aware of the limitations of the state of affairs in the fur trade of 1820, the English and Canadian traders were even more acutely concerned with its problems. As costs rose and returns dwindled, the companies moved towards a realization that violent competition was counterproductive. An agreement was hammered out that led to a merger of the businesses in 1821, and plans were made for a major reorganization in the interests of efficiency. George Simpson, the dynamic young governor of the new Hudson's Bay Company Northern Department, was the principal force behind the move to streamline and economize operations. In many ways, the merger proved advantageous for the shareholders as anticipated, but a number of other consequences had not been foreseen. First, the merger did not result in an automatic monopoly for the HBC because the Dene and their Metis allies developed a number of ingenious tactics to circumvent the situation. Second, the company continued to struggle with the Dene reluctance to commit their full time to the trade. Third, the "profound quiet" of the new fur trade relationships (A.S. Morton's phrase) was not always reflected in a similar quiet within Dene society itself. Open warfare, raiding, and revenge feuds continued. New epidemics proved to have disastrous consequences. The period considered by many people today as representative of the "traditional" Dene life was in fact a combination of old ways and adaptations to changing circumstances.
8g War Songs
As part ofits reorganization, the new HBC introduced a number of changes of considerable concern to those people who were participating in the trade. When news of the merger reached Fort Chipewyan, the post clerk noted in his journal that while the company men "greeted the news with heartfelt pleasure and satisfaction," the Native people "heard it with sullen silence."' Through the fall, they petitioned the company for gifts and gestures of goodwill, but the HBC decided against giving large advances for the winter hunt, in part because they feared that in the Chipewyan's "unsettled state of mind ... at the junction of the Interests of the 2 Companies," they would not be inclined to trade.2 The company's fears were realized in the spring of 1822 when few Natives came in to trade either furs or provisions. Contributing to the Dene reluctance to deal with the HBC were rumours spread by the Metis that American traders were planning to move into the Athabasca District and would thus provide a trade alternative.3 Rather than trade with either the HBC or the Americans, many of the trading bands headed back to their lands to hunt caribou or moose for themselves. Those who chose to continue their trade recognized the strength of their position and became insistent in their demands for gifts of tobacco and alcohol. At Fort Simpson, Grand Cheveux and his band hovered about the post, and much to the annoyance of W.F. Wentzel, "he no sooner obtains one request than he makes four or five more."4 Men who had been acting as post hunters complained of lack of game, but these comments were clearly polite ways of refusing to hunt. Prince, the post hunter at Fort Simpson, explained that he had not been successful because "the noise of the Mens Dogs going for meat had scared away the Moose Deer," although Edward Smith unequivocally stated, "There is no want of Moose and Rain Deer near the establishment"; Smith blamed the lack of ability of the hunters, failing to recognize the real problem.5 Another aspect of the HBC reorganization was turned more quickly to the Natives' advantage. Duplicate and unprofitable posts were closed, and key posts were selected as centres for a new system of districts. W.F. Wentzel was sent to "The Forks" with instructions to establish the new Fort Simpson as "the emporium of the Department" (the Mackenzie River District), making it as independent as possible in terms of provisions and bringing in those Natives who had traded formerly at the old NWC posts that had been closed. Fort Chipewyan was selected as the major centre in the Athabasca District; provisions were also to be gathered there and York boats and express canoes constructed. Other districts included the English
go Drum Songs
River District (originally called the Churchill River District), the Saskatchewan District, and the Cumberland District. While the administrative plan seemed sensible enough, in practice there were a number of problems for the HBC. District boundaries were not clear and Native hunting territories overlapped them, or else those who had made trade alliances with a post in one district found that their hunting grounds lay in another. These complications made no difference to the Natives but served to create animosity among the HBC chief traders of the districts. Each was naturallyanxious to maximize his district's returns and hence greatly resented any incursions that might detract from the total. Prices were a related problem. In order to regularize the prices offered for furs and the prices charged for trade goods, the HBC devised a system of tariffs based in part upon real costs. Since it was more expensive to transport goods in and out of the Mackenzie River District, differences in the tariff between Athabasca and Mackenzie were instituted. Traders at Fort Simpson began to complain of the results within months of the implementation of the system. In January 1823 a group of Slavey gave notice at Fort Simpson that they would not be returning to trade. Instead they preferred to meet with some men who had come to Lac la Martre from Fort Resolution to trade. Not only would they obtain better prices, but they would not have to pay back the advances they had received at Fort Simpson.6 By autumn it was clear what had occurred. Chipewyan and Yellowknife traders from the Athabasca District were coming north on a regular basis to exchange goods with the Slavey and Dogrib. Reports of these exchanges came from many areas, including Trout Lake and Lac la Martre. Edward Smith of Fort Simpson explained what was happening: The Chipewyans have a double interest in coming among the McKenzie River Indians — first they find a few Beaver more than in their Owne Country - and Having their Necessarys much cheaper at [Great] Slave Lake than our Indians in this River — they can afford to barter their property with the Slaves and have handsome Profits — While the McKenzie River Indian stil pays it cheaper than from the Compy stores — at Slave Lake or Peace River a Chipewyan gets a Gun for 12 Skins comes among our Indians sells it for 17 Skins — by this barter the Chipewyan gains 5 Skins and the Slaves has it Three Skins Cheaper then from their Own Traders.7
In other words, the Chipewyan were once again acting as middlemen to their own advantage. The most successful leaders of this trade were Poitras of Fort Chipewyan and Mangeur de Lard from
gi
War Songs
Great Slave Lake. While there is little detailed evidence of these transactions, it would seem that ammunition and guns were the most popular trade items. The HBC itself was unwittingly encouraging this activity. The Chipewyan hunters in Athabasca could provide plenty of caribou, but the company wanted beaver and by 1823 was complaining that beaver supplies in Athabasca were seriously depleted.8 Robert McVicar at Fort Resolution urged his traders to pressure the Natives to go and hunt in the bush rather than on the Barren Grounds. A number of Yellowknife and Chipewyan were only too happy to comply, but for reasons of which the Athabasca traders were apparently unaware. And so when Akaitcho and his band of Yellowknife set off from old Fort Providence in the spring of 1823, Robert Henry thought they were going to hunt beaver for a year, when in reality they had set off on a trading excursion.9 In fact, the arrival of these hunters and traders in Slavey and Dogrib hunting territory was not an entirely peaceful development. There were conflicts over access to furs and provisions as well as raids in which goods and women were seized. While the unrest of the 18205 was clearly related to fur trade pressures, it also had roots in more ancient conflicts. As Edward Smith later noted, an attempt to understand "the Origin of this quarrel would be to write the History of both Tribes[.] It is coeval with them."10 Reports of these raids were at last beginning to filter through to the HBC by late 1822, when a Dogrib visitor to Fort Norman complained that his band had been pillaged by some Yellowknife.11 As Dogrib leader Kanoobaw later explained, "We suffered our Wives, our Daughters and our Mothers to be taken from us, with their Children. Our Furs also, this we considered of little importance, they were only skins of Animals, but even our Nets upon which our existence depended, were likewise taken from us, and frequently our Axes, Guns or whatever was most useful or necessary to our Maintenance."12 Although the Dogrib liked to claim they were the innocent victims of such raids, they too participated in aggressive retaliation. For instance, in the fall of 1822 some Dogrib men who had been trading at Fort Norman joined with their relatives from the vicinity of Fort Simpson and attacked a group of Yellowknife in what the HBC referred to as a "massacre." Agitation spread throughout the district, with the news operating "as electricity on the surrounding Tribes," who were "in a state of perpetual alarm and insecurity for fear of being involved or mistaken for enemies by a war Party from either belligerent."13 From the rumours, charges, and countercharges that followed, it is impossible to reconstruct an accurate account of the
92
Drum Songs
sequence of events, but it is clear that for a period of about ten years, the Dogrib and the Yellowknife were at war with an intensity not seen in the north since the Cree-Chipewyan battles of the eighteenth century. In spite of the confusion of accounts, some of the events of the war can be noted. In the spring of 1823, a Yellowknife named Tausigouai, who had allegedly already murdered three Dogrib women, captured a fourth Dogrib woman. Fearing for her life, she slit his throat while he slept, and escaped back to her relatives. The community was divided in its discussion of an appropriate response. Realizing that the Yellowknife were bound to attempt to avenge the murder, some of the elders proposed that in order to preserve the peace, they meet with the Yellowknife and themselves kill the woman while the Yellowknife looked on. The woman pleaded that she had murdered her captor only because she feared he was about to kill her as he had killed the other three. The majority of elders accepted her story and concluded "that it was useless to talk of peace any longer." However, their decision to prepare for war was also influenced by a rumour that the Yellowknife leader Akaitcho was preparing to go to war against first the Hare and then the Dogrib. J 4 At this point in the story, accounts differ. The Dogrib claimed that they merely prepared to defend themselves, but another version suggests that they determined to take the offensive and retaliate for the murder of their women.1-5 A Dogrib war party set up camp in late summer on the major transportation route between Great Bear Lake and Lac la Martre, awaiting the passage of the Yellowknife as they returned to their winter territories. A Yellowknife band, led by Grand Jambe and composed of six or seven families, reached the spot just as "the Ice began to form" and were set upon by the Dogrib, who killed them all. Shortly afterward, Grand Jambe's brother Hamcou and his band also arrived in the vicinity.' 6 Some of the Dogrib elders again called for peace but were overruled by those who feared that if Hamcou were permitted to go free, he would eventually attempt to avenge his brother's death. Accordingly, the young warriors were sent to Ham^ou's camp in the night, but this raid was less successful than the first. Only two Yellowknife were killed, a man named Petit View and another of Grand Jambe's brothers, named Ventre. The rest escaped and at least one Dogrib warrior was killed. Hamcou then retaliated with an attack of his own, killing six Dogrib men and their families. 17 Hostilities apparently ceased as winter set in. When, in late February 1824, tne HBC learned of the battles, it attempted to intervene, urging the Dogrib "in the strongest terms as they valued our resi-
93 War Songs
dence among them" to put an end to the conflict. Edward Smith offered to act as a mediator and sent a sizeable gift of tobacco to one of the Dogrib leaders in an attempt to encourage him to make peace.l8 The attempt was unsuccessful. "We are willing to return to Peace," claimed Kanoobaw, "but are persuaded the Red Knives will not keep measure with us ... what shall we do? If we are quiet they treat us like Dogs, if we revenge they go beyond all bounds, only Death then is our portion." '9 Rumours spread that the Dogrib had negotiated an alliance with the Hare and that the Mackenzie River Slavey had also been invited to join their confederacy. News reached Fort Simpson "that the whole of the Martin Lake Dog Ribs intend to proceed in Summer towards the Barren Lands to destroy all Chepewyans and Red Knives they shall chance to fall in with." One of the prime targets was the prominent Yellowknife leader Akaitcho and his band. 20 What happened next is not clear. One of the reasons little information has survived is that there was a deliberate attempt by the various Dene bands involved to keep the affair secret from the HBC. When a band from Lac la Martre arrived to trade at Fort Simpson in the spring of 1824, the traders could elicit no information except for an apology from the trade chief "for having concealed this business from us for so long." Apparently, the Dogrib were concerned that the HBC would blame them for the hostilities and thus withhold trade advantages.21 The HBC traders suspected that the fighting was continuing even though both the Yellowknife and Dogrib insisted that their intentions were peaceful. The company also sent a delegation under A.R. McLeod to meet with the Hare people and learn the truth about the rumoured Hare-Dogrib alliance. The Hare denied any such combination, claiming to be afraid of both the Dogrib and Yellowknife. They took advantage of the meeting to request that the HBC trade with them at Fort Good Hope instead of Fort Norman so that the Hare could move north and avoid contact with the warring parties. When the HBC agreed to the arrangements, the Hare leader promised that all but one family would shift their trade to Good Hope.22 At least one band of Dogrib also shifted its hunting territory to avoid conflict, deciding to travel and trap in the mountains west of the Mackenzie instead of at Lac la Martre.23 Such decisions to change lands were not taken lightly. In unfamiliar territory, people were more likely to encounter hardship and even starvation, not knowing where the best fish lakes and animal grounds could be found. Reports of tragedy filtered back to the HBC from time to time, including the story told by a Dogrib man named Prince of a band from Lac la Martre that could find no food in unfamiliar lands.
94 Drum Songs
The people were forced to kill their dogs for food, and "in one instance some had recourse to the bodies of their deceased Children who had previously died from Want."24 The consequences of war could be terrible indeed. Rumours and counter-rumours about raids and threatened raids continued throughout the decade. In 1827 there was a report as far north as Good Hope that a Yellowknife war party had been seen in the vicinity looking for Dogrib. While these stories may well have been unfounded gossip, there can be no doubt that the balance of power began to shift in the summer and fall of 1827. At that point, a party of Chipewyan from Great Slave Lake moved north into the Mackenzie River District to trade with the Dogrib and Slavey as well as to hunt for themselves. Edward Smith at Fort Simpson was alarmed. "I have long since represented to the Athabasca Gentlemen the necessity of endeavouring to keep their Indians nearer home," he wrote, "or they will continue to harase the Slaves (McKenzie River Indians) until the same Catistrophe is acted over again as with the Copper Indians." 25 There is strong evidence to suggest that this band of Chipewyan was led by Francois Beaulieu junior who had married into an alliance with them. Beaulieu paid visits to the HBC at both Fort Chipewyan and Fort Simpson, acting entirely in his own interests at this stage of his career, though the HBC attempted periodically to employ him as a "winterer" with the Chipewyan.26 Beaulieu and his Chipewyan family established trade relations with the Dogrib, and in 1829 Beaulieu attempted to intervene between the Dogrib and Yellowknife to prevent further bloodshed. He sent word to Fort Simpson in the autumn that he was at Lac la Martre and that "Words" had been exchanged between Akaitcho of the Yellowknife and the Dogrib. "The Chipewyans present became mediators," Beaulieu reported, and although no violence had resulted, the bands parted with "strong language implying another attack."27 Rumours of such a raid surfaced, but it was not until the following autumn that a more specific report was circulated in which the Yellowknife were blamed for attacking the Dogrib and killing one person. Beaulieu again intervened, but both his trade and that of the HBC was interrupted. 28 Whether or not Beaulieu's intervention can be credited with the gradual end to hostilities is a curious question. There is no doubt that the HBC records contain fewer and fewer reports of tensions after 1829—30. In fact, there is a strong oral tradition about DogribYellowknife relations in which Dogrib chief Edzo negotiates a lasting peace with Yellowknife chief Akaitcho. While there are many differ-
95 War Songs
ent versions of the story, there is agreement that Edzo's sister had married a man named Kaw-tay-whee who was living with Akaitcho's band, and through this connection a lasting peace was arranged.29 Curiously, while Akaitcho figures prominently in the records of the HBC and European explorers, there is no explicit reference to a man named Edzo. Anthropologists June Helm and Beryl Gillespie used genealogical evidence to tentatively identify Edzo as the man who appears in the HBC records as Teconne-betah or Takenbethaw.30 It seems likely that the name "Edzo" was given to the Dogrib peacemaker after the fact. Is "Edzo" a corruption of Etsie, meaning "grandfather"? Was the Metis trader Francois Beaulieu involved in the negotiations with his brother-in-law Joseph or Pierre St Germain, or was he simply claiming the credit so as to gain favours from the HBC? Whatever the details, the Edzo-Akaitcho negotiations were an important event in Dene history, marking the end to widespread intra-band violence. By the early 18305, the Yellowknife were no longer the power they had once been. In September 1834 George Back attributed their sudden decline in part to the losses sustained in the raiding and in part to an epidemic of an unknown disease. "There cannot now be more than seventy families remaining," Back recorded, and these had been "driven from the rich hunting grounds about the Yellow Knife River to the comparatively barren hills bordering on Great Slave Lake."-51 The Dogrib established themselves once again around Lac la Martre. Suspicion and fear continued to cloud the relations among the nations for many years, but there were no more destructive raids between the Dogrib and Yellowknife. When Akaitcho died in 1838, there was a rumour that the Yellowknife planned to "console" themselves by making war on the Dogrib, but the stories came to nothing in the end.32 While the Dogrib-Yellowknife war of the 1820$ is the best known of the nineteenth-century conflicts, a number of other hostilities affected the Dene. Some of these episodes were clearly related to fur trade tensions, while others were part of the ongoing cycle of feud and revenge. One trade-related episode occurred in the Peace River district. When the HBC proposed the closing of its post at Fort St John in November 1823 as part of its general reorganization of the trade, a band of Beaver men attacked the post and killed trader Guy Hughes. Four of his men were killed when they arrived at Fort Dunvegan the following day. Although oral tradition in the area attributes the killings to retaliation, blaming Hughes for having used "medicine" to kill a young man, 33 it is clear that the Beaver were also distressed by the proposed changes in trade arrangements. Accord-
96 Drum Songs
ing to HBC records, the Beaver seemed to have been willing to accept the relocation of Fort St John but were very concerned with the HBC plan to reopen trade at the new site with bands of Slavey people who had been (at some unknown earlier date) "dispersed by the machinations of the Beaver Indians."34 That same summer two HBC clerks at Frances River in New Caledonia were killed by some Carrier under similar circumstances.35 A general alarm spread throughout the country, causing uneasiness among non-Natives and Natives alike. The Fort Liard Indians were afraid that other Beaver bands would search out the murderers and kill the Liard people by mistake; most of them decided to move east to avoid meeting the Beaver. For its part, the HBC was afraid that the discontent might spread into the Mackenzie River District. In fact, the company was still having difficulties with the Chipewyan over reorganization of the trade. During the summer "a discordancy & Jarring" among those who hunted around Hay River prevented the company from trading there and a group of Chipewyan began to trade at Fort Vermilion instead,36 bringing them closer to the Beaver bands' hunting grounds. The following summer, the inevitable happened. A band of Chipewyan met some Beaver west of Great Slave Lake and a quarrel ensued in which four people were killed.37 The Chipewyan apparently decided to avoid further confrontation by heading towards Fort Liard and the mountains for their spring hunt in 1825. One band, led by L'Anglois, spent the summer with some of the Liard people, and both groups abandoned their plans to trade with the HBC, exchanging what few furs they had gathered with a group of Chipewyan traders from Great Slave Lake. When L'Anglois failed to make an appointed rendezvous with his brother Grand Blanc (a prominent Chipewyan trade chief), a general alarm went up through the district. The Chipewyan assumed L'Anglois must have fallen victim to another Beaver attack. "The memory of past animositys between the Indians of this Post and the Upper parts of McKenzies River & with the Crees and Beaver Indians of Athabaska are stil fresh in their memories," explained the clerk at Fort Liard.38 Although the fears turned out to be groundless, the episode is indicative of the tension and hostility that prevailed through the 18205 and 18305. There were other notable conflicts. Several of the Mountain bands were at war with one another throughout the 18aos and until at least i83O.39 Raids between Gwich'in and Inuit bands were also common into the 18505. Trade between the two peoples had long predated European contact; the Gwich'in obtained white dentalium shells "at a high price" from the Inuit,40 which they used as personal orna-
97
War Songs
mentation and as indicators of status. This trade was apparently accompanied by frequent hostilities. Many stories of battles were, in fact, linked to trade expeditions somehow gone wrong. One such encounter was described by a party of Gwich'in from Peel River in this way: The Esquimeaux came up to the Narros, two Parties in 8 boats each party, and after having met a friendly reception and traded some articles, they manifested very unequivocably hostile intentions, and after having departed, were found lurking about the Loucheux camp in a kind of ambush making preparations for war ... Some arrows were shot by both parties (Old Chief [Barbue] being with his family only was out numbered by the Esquimaux) fortunately without effect on either side — they ascribe this hostile disposition of the Esquix to a knowledge that the others were destitute of ammunition & could not use such firearms as they had of which they are in great dread.4'
Other raids were the result of disputes over women or followed the death of a person believed to have been caused by an enemy's "medicine." Occasionally the Gwich'in and Inuit lived together peacefully, but these periods were frequently interrupted by hostilities. Relations between the Peel River Gwich'in and the Inuit appear to have been more difficult than those between the Inuit and the Mackenzie River people, although there were conflicts with the latter over access to a stone quarry near Fort Good Hope.42 Clearly, while some of these disputes can be linked to competition for trade advantages and to adjustment to the presence of Euro-Canadian traders in the north, many other disputes were the result of internal differences and problems unrelated to trade issues. Other events of the period were more peaceful. The Chipewyan were not the only nation to take advantage of the new HBC arrangements in their revival of a role as middlemen. In 1823 the company moved the old N we post at Good Hope well downriver to within easy travelling distance of the Peel River and Arctic Red River Gwich'in. Although the post was soon moved back upriver (partially at the insistence of the Hare), a number of the eastern Gwich'in bands became regular visitors. The Peel River people spoke at length about the riches of their lands in an attempt to convince the HBC to move even closer; finally in 1840, the Peel River post was built. It was here that the company learned of the existence of still more Gwich'in bands to the west and heard reports that the Russian traders had been travelling into the interior. In 1842—44 Lieut. Lavrentii Zagoskin was commissioned by the Russian American Fur Company
98 Drum Songs
to explore inland along the Yukon River and to report on the feasibility of direct trade with the western Gwich'in. Hence, it was partly out of fear of Russian competition and partly at the insistence of a number of Gwich'in bands that the HBC established La Pierre's House and Fort Yukon in 1848. At Fort Yukon, HBC trader Alexander Hunter Murray met with an enthusiastic band of Yukon Flats people, or Kutcha-Kutchin, who had "hitherto been in the habit of trading with another band of indians between [here] and the coast, who dispose of the furs to the Russians."43 The Kutcha-Kutchin very quickly took over that role as middlemen, so that a visitor of a dozen years later could report that they were "essentially traders, and instead of hunting themselves they purchase their furs from distant tribes among whom they regularly make excursions."44 The Peel River Gwich'in very much resented the change, since more than likely they had been able to control access to the upper Yukon furs when the only post in the area had been at Good Hope. A series of raids and revenge attacks ensued in which the Yukon Flats people apparently soon gained the upper hand.45 They also quickly gained control of their trade relationship with the HBC. When the terms of trade did not meet with their approval, they threatened to go to the Russians instead,46 or worse, as this report from 1865 makes clear: "Mr. Jones had some how or other got into trouble with his Indians, who threatened to starve him out. I do not exactly understand the particulars but it appears that in order to secure the furs of the distant tribes, Mr. Jones had given away all, or at least most of Guns, horns, Amn & tobacco, leaving an inadequate supply for those who feed the Fort the consequence was that those turbulent fellows, as usual, found other causes of complaint."47 A few years earlier, a new apprentice clerk at Fort Yukon "made himself so disagreeable to the Indians frequenting that place" through threats and "otherwise treating with contumely this proud and revengeful race" that they "almost captured the fort" and the HBC hastily removed the novice clerk.48 Like the Chipewyan, the Gwich'in had learned to exert pressure on the HBC to obtain favourable trading terms. And also like the Chipewyan, a significant number had turned to the business of trade as intermediaries in their search for prestige and adventure. Just as the reorganization of the HBC had led to a rearrangement of trade relations among the various nations themselves, another aspect of that reorganization was to have a significant impact on both Dene social and economic patterns. As part of the HBC plans to make the trade more efficient, a large number of employees were released from service, notably the Metis and French Canadian labourers who
99 War Songs
had been working on short-term contracts for the NWC. After all, the animosities of the pre-merger years were not quickly forgotten and the old HBC traders remained suspicious of the Canadians, casting a wary eye on their activities and arguing "the Propriety of our taking nothing upon trust" with them.49 A significant number of these now-unemployed men apparently decided to remain in the north, becoming a part of Dene kinship networks or establishing new bands of their own. Their relations with the Dene continued as a mix of suspicion, hostility, and alliance, much as their relations had been before 1821. The reasons for both the animosity and alliance were trade and women. The Canadian and Metis men chose to continue to support themselves as traders rather than hunters for the most part, so for the first decades after the merger, they continued to live and travel on the land with the various Native bands with whom they traded. They then carried the furs to the HBC posts. By the 18405, however, several of these traders appear to have established connections with the Red River settlement and its trade outlet in the United States. Access to this market enabled them to bypass the HBC posts entirely in some cases. Unfortunately, very little detail about this trade has survived and we have only glimpses of how it must have operated. By following the careers of the Beaulieu family (Chipewyan-Metis), some helpful observations may be made. Through the 18205, Francois Beaulieu junior travelled throughout the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts, occasionally running errands or interpreting for the HBC, but more often taking credit at various Mackenzie posts, then trading with area Natives and carrying their furs to Fort Chipewyan in the Athabasca District, much to the chagrin of the Mackenzie District traders. By the 18305, Beaulieu had the Fort Simpson trader clearly under his thumb. If the furs he had gathered from his network around Lac la Martre were to be traded in the Mackenzie District, he demanded special prices; at Fort Simpson the traders were willing to pay in order to keep their returns up and appear as successful traders in the eyes of their superiors. Thus, in 1833 Beaulieu received goods from Fort Simpson worth 310 Made Beaver at a reduction of one-third below the price charged to Native traders. John Stuart, the Fort Simpson trader, was unhappy with the arrangement and urged that it be terminated so that Beaulieu "will no longer have the means of trading with [the Indians] and making a profit of one third and more, often more than one half on every skin he trades: as for himself he is no hunter. It is the Marten Lake Indians who hunt for him and it is the advantages he has that enables him to employ them."50 Beaulieu simply retaliated with the threat that he would trade at Fort Chipe-
ioo Drum Songs
wyan if such measures were taken. The HBC attempted to encourage Beaulieu's Dogrib and Chipewyan hunters to come directly to the post themselves, but the attempt was unsuccessful, in part because (the HBC believed) Beaulieu was promising them better prices than they would obtain from the company. The arrangement was also clearly more convenient for the Natives, who would not have to interrupt plans for hunting and fishing in order to travel to Fort Simpson to trade. Beaulieu also established a provision trade to supply the boat brigade crews with meat. Portage la Loche became a favourite spot with other Metis traders as well, and a thriving exchange developed between the boatmen and the northern Metis. As W. Sinclair of Norway House advised in 1859, "there exists a good deal of traffic in leather amongst the Athabasca men, and the portage Freighters of this [district]."51 At Portage la Loche, the northern Metis had an opportunity to make contacts with the wider world, since from at least 1854 a number of Red River traders were operating in that district, forming a "strong opposition" to the HBC. 52 The Athabasca Metis and Dene were drawn south in the i8§os for other reasons as well. Shortages of large game were a problem throughout the Athabasca District in those years. Furthermore, in 1857 the HBC converted its transportation depot at Portage la Loche into a permanent trading post attached to the English River District, which offered even better prices than the Athabasca District could. Alexander Christie later explained, "A trading post, with a high fur tariff was thus brought within easy reach of the hunting grounds of a large number of Athabasca Indians who as a matter of course at once availed themselves of the facilities offered them ... [it also] tended to create a spirit of discontent throughout the whole District.'^ At some point during this period, Beaulieu moved his band to a new home at Salt River; how the move was related to his plans for trade is unknown. At any rate, in the spring of 1858, he announced that he was travelling directly to Red River himself to attend to trade matters. Although the plan collapsed when "his Indian trippers & sons ... rebelled against him,"54 the HBC was alarmed, and the governor himself intervened. In a letter to Bernard Ross at Fort Simpson, George Simpson wrote, I trust that for the future the proceedings of the Beaulieu family at Salt River may be more closely watched & their attempts to get up an opposition effectually checked. For what evil has already arisen in that way we cannot help thinking the gentlemen in charge of Athabasca & McKenzie River districts were principally to blame ... [leaving] the Beaulieu family an opportu-
ioi
War Songs
nity to open relations with Red River, which might very easily have been guarded against.55
One of the reasons for Simpson's concern was the fact that Beaulieu had found a new ally in his efforts to circumvent the HBC. As will be described in the next chapter, missionaries of the Roman Catholic Church had begun their efforts in the north, and both the church and the "freetraders" found a friendship to be of considerable mutual advantage. And before long, numerous traders from outside the district had appeared in the north, making enforcement of the HBC monopoly impossible. Relations between the Metis and the Dene during the period were punctuated with tension that was apparently occasioned primarily by disputes about women. Metis men who had chosen to make the north their permanent home were well aware of the importance of obtaining wives. As Matonabbee had explained to Samuel Hearne many years before, it was impossible for men to survive in the north without the assistance of women. Women had the skills necessary for manufacturing clothing, snowshoe webbing, moccasins, and nets. They ate little themselves but provided a great deal of food through their own fishing, snaring, and gathering activities. They were also renowned for great strength and for their ability to carry heavy loads. Furthermore, it was through women that the Metis traders could form alliances with Dene bands and develop their networks of relatives upon whom they could rely for trade and assistance. Dene women possessed considerable influence within the band, and the Melis were anxious to use that influence to their own advantage. Unfortunately, the Dene often felt that the Metis took liberties with their women and treated them poorly, so disputes were constantly erupting, sometimes with fatal results. In 1822 a young Chipewyan man shot and killed a Metis named Cadien in a quarrel over women, and the Athabaca District was in an uproar for weeks.56 Another Metis, also named Cadien, was involved in a battle near Fort Norman late in 1835. Cadien and two other Metis men were at the HBC fishery when a dispute arose; the Metis killed twelve Hare, including a woman and eight children. It required quick punitive action on the part of the HBC to prevent the Dene from retaliating against the company.57 At Good Hope in 1841, a battle erupted among area bands under circumstances that remain obscure. Emile Petitot claimed that eighty lives were lost in the dispute over the behaviour of some Metis men towards the Indian women.58 It may well be that many of these disputes were really about trade rather than women. Some of the Metis traders resorted to tricks and coercion in order to obtain the furs of the recalcitrant Dene. One
102 Drum Songs
such episode in the Athabasca District occurred in 1850, when the Chipewyan complained that not only had the Metis treated their women "shamefully" while the men were employed transporting goods across Portage la Loche, but that "on the Route, when they meet an Indian, they seize his Furs and skins with or without his consent, and pay him what they choose. One poor fellow refused to give up a Moose Skin, on which they immediately seized his wife and embarked the poor creature, screaming and terrified out of her senses, until her husband ransomed her with the skin."59 While stories such as these may have been told by the Natives in order to provide an excuse to the HBC for having brought nothing to trade, the persistence and geographic distribution of the stories suggests that they contained an element of truth. Clearly, while the Dene-Metis trade network helped to circumvent the HBC'S efforts to enforce a trade monopoly, it was sometimes an uneasy alliance. For the most part, Dene relations with the HBC were more peaceful by mid-century. Personal relationships were established with each trader, so that if a new man was sent in, he had to prove himself to the Natives before they would become regular trade partners. Good relations with the company did not automatically ensure increased participation in the trade, however. The nature and extent of Dene involvement in the fur trade before mid-century remain interesting questions that have received considerable attention from anthropologists. Since only a limited amount of information is available, many questions cannot be answered fully, but a number of observations can be made. There were several different degrees of involvement in the fur trade economy, ranging from complete non-participation to a seasonal and exclusive dedication to trapping for trade. Those who participated in the trade could do so in a number of ways. The HBC posts were almost totally dependent on country food for their support because importing food supplies was costly and awkward. Very little of that food was obtained by the HBC employees themselves during this period. Instead, the company relied on provisions brought in by Natives and on the products of company-supported fisheries. Each post also negotiated seasonal agreements with willing hunters whereby a man would be supplied with a gun, ammunition, clothing, and tobacco to enable him to hunt game or wildfowl for the post's use. The value of the gun and clothing would be charged to an account and paid off as the hunter supplied meat to the post.60 Most of these hunters seemed to have been young unmarried men who left their employment when they married. The opportunity to prove oneself as a hunter and to live independently for a time probably at-
log War Songs
tracted young men to the work. Other people were regular suppliers of provisions, although they were not considered to be post hunters and were paid for their provisions at a different rate. Furthermore, provisions could be exchanged only for ammunition and tobacco because the HBC wanted to encourage people to devote their time to fur trapping. Women played an important part in this provision trade because they prepared and dried the meat, although the finished products were generally brought to the post by a man. The provision trade sometimes included berries and eggs, the gathering of which was also done by women. It is clear that the provisions the Dene brought to trade consisted solely of surplus. Even post hunters recognized that their first allegiance lay with their families, so that in times of shortage the posts would not be supplied with food. Leather was another trade item that was provided only in times of plenty. The HBC required dressed skins in considerable quantity for both clothing and moccasins. The boat brigade men were particularly hard on their footwear, needing constant resupply of the carefully prepared skins that only the women knew how to produce properly. The women demanded and obtained high prices for leather but refused to supply it at all in times of hardship. As far as actual fur trading was concerned, a variety of patterns existed. We will never know how many Native people did not participate in the trade at all because there are no census figures to compare with the fur trade records. Certainly, a significant number of people traded only sporadically. An analysis of the Fort Simpson accounts from the 18205 indicates that 32 percent of the traders did not visit the post each year and 20 percent might not have visited even every four or five years. Others trapped for the purpose of trade but never came to the posts themselves, preferring to send their furs with relatives or to trade through middlemen. As Edward Smith noted in surprise at Fort Simpson in 1827, "The Number of Dog Rib & Rocky Mountain Indians are more than I expected - as formerly we was not aware that many who had no debts Keeped themselves at home - lazzeness to travel to the Fort to get their wants makes them give their Furs to those that come."6' At the other extreme were those people who chose to devote considerable effort to the trade, forming hunting parties that travelled great distances to search out beaver, and relying on the HBC to subsidize these undertakings with extra ammunition and sometimes even meat and fish supplies. The story of a Hare band led by Beaver Eyes illustrates this pattern. In 1827 Beaver Eyes informed the HBC trader at Fort Good Hope that his country was now exhausted of beaver and that he had heard rumours that the country at the head-
104 Drum Songs waters of Arctic Red River was rich in beaver. Proposing to mount a beaver trapping expedition there, he estimated that the undertaking would require some twenty months to complete. Plans were worked and reworked for almost a year, and finally the band departed in the fall of 1828. It consisted of eight men and their families. A short distance from Good Hope, they encountered severe cold and little game, so they wintered in the nearby mountains. In the spring the elderly members of the band were sent back to Good Hope and the remainder set off at last for Arctic Red River. There they lived and hunted for the summer and fall but were disappointed with the number of beaver they obtained. In mid-December 1829 they obtained a supply of dried fish through trade from the Gwich'in in the area to feed them on their return journey; in twenty days they were back at Good Hope with "a good Show of Furs."6a Sometimes these expeditions were not so fortunate. Travelling through unfamiliar territory was extremely risky, since one could not know where to obtain fish, berries, or game and would have to rely on one's wits and power. In 1831 a band of forty Chipewyan was outfitted at Fort Vermilion for a beaver hunt in the mountains. At Fort Halkett they were joined by a number of Fort Liard people. Once in the mountains, they were unable to find food and the party split up. The smaller group attempted to push on and was fortunate enough to meet a group of Liard people who fed and revived them. The larger group turned back but was less fortunate; along the route, thirty-eight men, women, and children perished from starvation, including the prominent hunters Grand Blanc, Tranquille, and Nau-derri-cho.63 Why did some Dene participate in the trade, even to the extent of undertaking such dangerous expeditions? The choice of goods taken in exchange for furs provides some clues. Before mid-century, demand existed for goods of a rather limited range and the HBC had given up its attempts to import luxury items in which there was no interest. The greatest demand was for household utensils. Dene women quickly learned to appreciate the value of copper kettles, knives, scrapers, and needles, since possession of these items alleviated the time-consuming task of manufacturing them and they were more durable than bark, root, and bone utensils. The importance of women's demands in fuelling the fur trade economy is often overshadowed by emphasis on men's role in the trade, but it is clear that women's needs accounted for the majority of the items traded at this stage of fur trade history. In a life of hard and heavy work, goods that alleviated the burden were much in demand. The other significant item in the trade was, of course, the gun, together with its attendant paraphernalia. The gun was required initially for warfare,
105 War Songs
but the Dene gradually increased its use in hunting as well. Guns were particularly useful in the bush for hunting moose, bear, and other solitary game animals that were difficult to snare. Caribou, however, continued to be trapped in pounds and snared, although the actual killing might be done with a gun. Trade involved not only a one-time exchange, but also a longterm contract for repair and servicing. The HBC appears to have been reluctant to meet Dene expectations in this regard, but often did so in the interests of good relations. When a band came in to trade, people would bring axes and other metal goods to the post for repair; it was "invariably the custom," noted one trader, for the Natives never to "give any recompense not even thanks for the Blacksmiths work."6* One notable exception to the general pattern of demand for certain goods may be found among the Gwich'in. From the beginning of their direct trade with the HBC, by far the bulk of their trade consisted of only one item: white beads. Furthermore, unless the beads were of a specific size, the Gwich'in refused to take them, even at greatly reduced prices. When the post at Good Hope ran out of beads in 1828, the trader offered kettles, guns, and blankets to the Gwich'in as a gesture of goodwill, but the situation was "not to the liking of the Indians," for "their dareling beads when scarce is too great a disapointment to them - to be well pleased with Any thing else."65 Each year the Mackenzie District traders corresponded with the Northern Department asking that the proper beads be sent in sufficient quantities; one year, samples of the required bead were even conveyed so as to ensure compliance. It was a matter of seven or eight years before a reliable supply system was worked out and the Gwich'in gained a reason to trade regularly with the HBC.66 During the 18308 the Gwich'in began to ask for dentalium shells as well. Realizing that the Gwich'in had access to these shells from other sources, the HBC was anxious to meet their demands. However, it was some time before the company was able to obtain a supply of dentalium, since once again the Gwich'in were very particular about the size and colour. The trade in dentalium was significant (10,000 shells were sent to Fort Yukon alone in 1853), and the Gwich'in acted as middlemen in the shell trade just as they were acting in the fur trade. Anthropologist Shepard Krech III discovered that at midcentury, Gwich'in traders were obtaining shells from the HBC at a price of ten per Made Beaver and selling them to other bands at a price of six per Made Beaver.6' Why were the Gwich'in so insistent upon these white beads and dentalium shells as their primary interest in the trade? As Shepard Krech III has pointed out, dentalium had long been an important
io6 Drum Songs trade item along the northwest Pacific coast and inland to Gwich'in territory; the beads obtained from the HBC were probably used in equivalent ways. Not only were the beads a medium of exchange and a means for the wealthy to display their status through elaborate decoration of clothing, gun covers, and other items, but they were also of considerable spiritual significance. Beads were given to a shaman to predict the future or for use in ceremonies to assist the recovery of a sick person. Beads were also buried with the dead or destroyed (like all other personal possessions) upon the death of their owner.68 While the symbolic meaning of the beads and shells may have been lost, it seems likely that the colour white represented knowledge or spiritual power (what the Chipewyan call i n -ko n -ze) and the bead itself may have represented the soul. Hence, the value of beads as a medium of exchange was only one aspect of their utility. Certainly the Gwich'in were not the only aboriginal nation who understood trade beads in this way. George Hamell has argued that northeastern Woodland peoples also ascribed symbolic value to shells, copper, and trade beads.69 Thus, the beautifully decorated Gwich'in clothing and hairstyles were not simply aesthetic expressions, but also representations of spiritual values. It seems likely that other Dene groups ascribed spiritual significance to certain colours, since white, blue, and red fabrics, strouds (woollen blankets), and beads dominated the trade lists throughout the district.'0 The fur trade was useful to the Dene for both practical and spiritual reasons. Therefore, it is not surprising that Dene understanding of what constituted an acceptable trade relationship was somewhat different from the European understanding of that relationship. There has been considerable debate among anthropologists regarding the nature of Native economic behaviour, pitting those who argue that the laws of supply and demand are universal against those who argue that North American aboriginal peoples had a broader view that fits economic choices into overall structures of political and value systems.71 Certainly Dene participation in the fur trade cannot be understood simply as an economic question, a fact nineteenth-century HBC traders were sometimes slow to understand. They assumed that the Dene would automatically prefer goods of European manufacture and adjust their lives in order to maximize the opportunity to acquire those goods. Furthermore, the traders tended to accept Dene explanations for their choices at face value and so misunderstood the real dynamics of the trade relationship. The traders also gave little credit to the Dene ability to manipulate the situation to their own advantage. It is hardly surprising that modern historians have made the same errors.
io7 War Songs
The traders were frustrated by what they perceived as laziness among the Dene. They constantly urged the Natives to exert themselves and attempted to convince the Dene that they were "naked" and poor, conditions that could be rectified through the acquisition of trade goods. The Dene certainly did not see themselves in the same way. They valued family life and leisure time rather than constant exertion to enable an accumulation of material goods. They also recognized the dangers of devoting too much time to fur trapping, for if game suddenly became scarce and there were no provisions in store, the possibility of starvation was very real indeed. As a result, not even the members of specialist beaver-hunting bands devoted themselves to the trade full time, year-round. At times of scarcity, people did not go in to trade at all, preferring to hunt and fish for family consumption. They also did not go in to trade during times of plenty. As the clerk at Fort Simpson noted in 1840, "The great abundance of Carribeaux in the direction of Marten Lake has withdrawn the attention of the Indians from making their usual Fur Hunt. From all the Indians who have come from that Quarter this Winter we have not received the value of a Pack."72 There were many other reasons for not participating in the trade. Young single men frequently withdrew when they married; married men withdrew if their children became ill. Fears of raids during times of uneasiness also prevented people from risking a trip to the post. Spiritual beliefs might play a part. When a Chipewyan prophet warned his relatives that one of them would become ill that winter, the band decided not to hunt for furs in consequence. In another case, when a man was drowned in a canoeing accident while en route to Fort Liard, his family determined not to pay any further visits to the post that year.7? Death of a family member was the most common reason for withdrawing from the trade. Many Dene practised the mourning custom of destroying the property of the deceased and moving camp to a new area. If the deceased was a hunter, any furs he might have collected would also be destroyed (much to the dismay of the HBC traders!), and the family did not consider itself responsible for paying any debts the hunter might have incurred with the HBC. People would visit the trade posts only in the right combination of circumstances, which included the knowledge that the post had the desired goods in stock. If a hunter had managed to collect only a small amount of meat or fur in a season, he might not consider it worthwhile to make a journey to the nearest post; thus, the HBC journals are full of references to men who simply sent word that they had a few furs if anyone wanted to come to their camp to pick
io8 Drum Songs up the harvest. It was also very common for a band to trade only a small amount "to supply their immediate wants" (usually tobacco and ammunition) when the HBC traders were quite convinced that the band had much more on hand that could be traded. The HBC, anxious to maximize its fur returns, was quite perplexed at this behaviour. "Although the country is rich in Beaver, and Martins," noted one trader at Fort Simpson in 1834, "they kill but few of either nor indeed of anything else; but barely a sufficiency to enable them to get a few Iron works and the necessary ammunition."74 When the Dene were pressured by the HBC to undertake a hunting expedition, the usual response was a list of reasons why a hunt was impossible, such as complaints "of too much Ice driving in the River, no Animals, no Game, or that the Bark of the Pine Trees does not yet rise to enable them to make Canoes."75 The question of debt provides another interesting glimpse into the dynamics of Dene trade relations. Throughout most of the nineteenth century, the HBC followed the practice of offering certain types of goods on credit, in advance of a hunter's planned expedition. While many hunters accepted the system and duly repaid their advances, many others considered these advances to be gifts and felt no obligation to pay for them. Circumventing the system was not difficult. A hunter could trade with other Natives or travel to another post where he was not known. Sometimes these journeys involved considerable distances. In 1831, for example, Slaw-eath-el-ene and his brother accepted ninety-five Made Beaver worth of goods on credit at Fort Chipewyan in the fall and then proceeded to Churchill in the spring to trade their winter hunts, sending word to the trader at Fort Chipewyan that they were ill and would not be in to trade that season.76 More commonly, Mackenzie District Dene went to the Athabasca District, and the latter people went to the English River District to avoid paying their "debts." Periodically, the HBC attempted to abandon the entire system because it was clearly cutting into profits. At Fort Chipewyan, one trader estimated that through the 18205 the company found itself annually with 1,500 to 3,000 Made Beaver in outstanding accounts, many of which would never be settled.77 Attempts to end the system never lasted very long, however. The Natives objected and demanded that ammunition and tobacco be provided to them; without advances they would not hunt. At Fort Chipewyan in the fall of 1828, for example, "our Indians assembled early into the Hall requesting advances, altho contrary to arrangements agreed upon last Spring, urging their poverty having found it impossible to procure, in course of Summer, a sufficiency of either Furs or Provisions to Trade their necessaries."78 The HBC
log
War Songs
trader relented, although he permitted smaller advances than usual. At Fort Simpson in 1833, the trader observed that since the practice of giving advances had been stopped, "the best and most valuable Indians of the Place" had moved off to the mountains, coming in "but seldom" to obtain a little ammunition and idling away their time doing "nothing," since they could easily live well in their new territory. 79 While the satisfaction of tricking the HBC was undoubtedly a factor in some of these situations, others appear to have been more complicated. For the Dene, a trade relationship was more than an economic agreement: it was a political and social arrangement involving reciprocal responsibilities. Autumn advances had come to be considered an essential part of the HBC'S obligation towards the Dene hunters, in return for which the Dene would set aside something from their winter and spring hunts for the company. Some of the hunters considered the advances to be gifts in the tradition of gift giving that predated the merger of the HBC and NWC. The credit system has sometimes been interpreted as the HBC'S method of keeping the northern First Nations dependent and subservient, but an understanding of how the system actually operated makes it clear that a fresh interpretation is necessary. The Dene either manipulated the system or ignored it completely. The three decades following the 1821 merger were times of adjustment and tension for the Dene as they accommodated their lives to the presence of traders and new trade opportunities. Middlemen reappeared throughout the region. Other band movements developed as certain groups took up beaver hunting as a major occupation, moving to districts that had not been traditional hunting grounds for them. The Dogrib-Yellowknife dispute intensified into warfare and the Yellowknife were driven back into a muchcontracted land base. Long-standing animosities between the Inuit and Gwich'in continued throughout the period as well. However, by the late 18405, references to bloodshed in the fur trade journals had become greatly reduced. Conflict was more likely to involve individuals; band retaliation seldom followed. The reasons for this change are not clear, but the explanation might include both positive and negative influences: the increased level in the standard of living and the devastation of disease. The massive smallpox epidemic of 1780 has already been described, but a series of epidemics in the nineteenth century also had a significant impact on the population of the north. A combination of measles and whooping cough swept throught the Athabasca District in 1819 and most probably affected more northerly groups as
no Drum Songs well, as John Franklin received reports of considerable mortality around Great Slave Lake.80 W.F. Wentzel attributed the origin of the disease to the settlement at Red River and estimated that as much as one-fifth of the population between Lac la Pluie and Athabasca may have died.Sl Reports of various diseases continued to be received by the HBC throughout the 18205, with dysentry and an influenza-like illness predominating. A large number of Gwich'in and Hare traders living in the vicinity of Good Hope died in 1825-26 of a "dreadful illness" that at times seemed likely to wipe out the entire population. 82 Whooping cough raged through Fort Chipewyan and Fort Simpson in 1827—28, carrying off both Indian and Metis children. The Dene clearly recognized a connection between these diseases and the movements of the HBC traders. When a group of Chipewyan arrived at Fort Chipewyan in the spring of 1833, they asked for more goods than usual on credit: "The fellows have got Wind, of the Prevalance of the Cholera ... having Swept off such Numbers in Montreal last Summer, and after having paid them for every thing brought begged to be Indulged, with Large Advances to go to their Lands and not return till next April, to be out of the Way of the Sickness."B3 An influenza outbreak at Norway House in 1835 was carried into the Athabasca District with the boat brigade. The timing could not have been worse, since the posts were full of Native visitors arriving to get equipped for their fall hunts. Within days the first deaths were reported at Fort Chipewyan, and not long afterward came news of deaths in the bush camps, including that of the old and respected leader Aw-gee-nah (English Chief), who had assisted Samuel Hearne and Alexander Mackenzie and had traded as a middleman throughout the district. Edward Smith described the situation as "without parralel during my 36th year residence" in the north."4 Influenza spread down the Mackenzie, reaching the Trout Lake area in the fall of 1836 and Great Bear Lake the following year. There seems to have been no impact from a smallpox epidemic that affected the Plains nations at the same time, nor from a scarlet fever outbreak at Red River in 1843. But a second measles epidemic in 1846 did reach at least as far as Great Slave Lake, taking a heavy toll in lives. Influenza struck again in the early 18505, causing deaths at forts Liard, Resolution, and Vermilion in 1852 and at Peel River and McPherson in 1853. Reports of whooping cough appeared throughout the north in 1857-58, with the deaths of many children noted. The sad toll of these epidemics was compounded by the complications that accompanied them. With the deaths of young men and
111
War Songs
women in their prime years, procuring food became extremely difficult for the survivors, and deaths from "famine" and starvation frequently followed in the path of the diseases. The HBC traders vainly attempted to treat the sick, but with their limited medical knowledge they could do little for the victims. Some Native people were vaccinated by the HBC against smallpox; the program appears to have been successful as far as it went. Nevertheless, the psychological impact of these epidemics must have been tremendous, and the substantial reduction of the population was indeed socially, economically, and politically significant. A seriously demoralized population had no energy left for long-distance travel or warring. Consequently, the contraction of the boundaries of commonly used lands may have been a partial result of disease and not simply a response to locally available trade posts. And the gradual diminution of feuds over women and trade may also have been partially a response to more deadly forces. While the trade had brought devastation, it had also brought new comforts. Women in particular benefited. Household utensils no longer had to be manufactured domestically, and while traditional clothing was still preferred, particularly for winter, the HBC cloth and woollens were attractive alternatives to the complicated process of leather production for summer and ceremonial wear. Women were thus able to eliminate some of the more time-consuming household tasks and devote their newly found leisure time to a variety of pursuits, including artistic work. The nineteenth century was a time of a literal cultural flowering. Exquisite bead and quill work was produced in quantities apparently unknown in the past. The geometric bands of colour that had once adorned clothing gave way to complex floral designs incorporating ideas from Metis women, Ojibwa neighbours, and Plains trading partners. While knowledge of the spiritual signiiicance of some of the old patterns may have been lost, a glorious riot of colour and pattern appeared on tunics, leggings, gloves, moccasins, gun cases, firebags, and dog trappings. The skills of women in producing these beautiful items became highly valued among both non-Native and Dene communities and a point of pride for husbands of particularly talented women. While women may have lost something of their economic role when men took over the trapping of small animals, they quickly regained lost ground in the manufacture of both everyday and ceremonial clothing, which found a ready market and also served as a support for women's status in the community. Thus, the period between 1821 and mid-century was one of mixed blessings for the Dene. The tensions of the NWC-HBC competition were eliminated, but continuing problems with Dene middle-
112
Drum Songs
men and Metis traders meant that peace was not an automatic consequence of the 1821 merger. Adjustments to the new HBC'S attempts to enforce a monopoly also brought mixed results, but for the most part, the Dene were not drawn completely into the fur trade economy, as they continued to prefer the more leisurely life of hunting, fishing, and gathering. Guns and household goods of European manufacture were accepted for their utility, but country food and clothing continued to be preferred. Access to trade goods enriched the lives of many and alleviated the harshness of women's lives to some extent, but access to trade goods also meant access to disease. Hundreds of people died in a series of tragic epidemics. Then, just as the Dene were adjusting to the realities of their changed world, a new element was introduced that challenged the heart and soul of the people. A handful of European newcomers arrived to raise fundamental questions about the religion and worldview upon which all Dene society was based.
6 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
By mid-nineteenth century, relations between the Dene and the fur traders appear to have been stabilizing and a new era of peace unfolding. A prosperous and well-adjusted society was emerging to the mutual advantage of all parties. The HBC had no interest in disrupting the fundamental relationship between the Dene and the land; trapping furs fit well into the Dene economy and world-view. Certainly the HBC was anxious to encourage greater participation in fur trapping and those people who took up the challenge found that their lives were somewhat changed, but the HBC had avoided almost entirely any interference in matters of religion or spiritual belief. At mid-century, however, both the Dene and the HBC were challenged with the arrival of a number of European and Canadian missionaries. The activities and impact of these men and women form one of the most intriguing chapters in Dene history. Since their earliest contacts with Europeans and Canadians, the Dene had been aware that the fur traders held very different religious views. Regular Sunday services were introduced at Fort Chipewyan in 1823; families of the fur traders were encouraged to attend either an Anglican or Roman Catholic service, and there is evidence that Native visitors to the post also occasionally joined in.' The HBC did not promote religious activity among the First Nations, however, and although the Metis who lived among the Dene undoubtedly talked about religion, little formal or consistent information about Christianity would have reached the Dene. Nevertheless, they were very curious indeed about Euro-Canadian spiritual beliefs.
114
Drum Songs
People had probably heard rumours about missionaries among their southern neighbours, for a major expansion of mission effort was just then getting under way in the northwest. Events can be traced back to the period 1818 to 1820, when the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church had both established parishes at the Red River settlement. Although the churches initially had sent clergy to minister to the non-Native members of the fur trade community, they quickly developed an interest in proselytizing non-Christians, so that church activities began to spread beyond the limits of Red River farms. In fact, interest in mission work was inherent in the organizations that were contributing to the establishment of churches in the northwest. The Oblates of Mary Immaculate (OMI) were a Roman Catholic order that had been founded in France in 1826 by Eugene de Mazenod, who hoped to revitalize the faith in a country torn by the French Revolution and to reinforce the authority of the papacy as part of a general movement in Europe called ultramontanism. The OMI had responded first to a call for clergy in Quebec and then in Red River. The Protestant church at Red River was encouraged in large part through the efforts of the Church Missionary Society (CMS), an evangelical organization composed of members of the Church of England who were dedicated to reforming their church through a return to simplicity of worship and belief in the fundamental doctrine of salvation by faith in Jesus Christ. In the minds of most members of the CMS, Roman Catholics were just as heathen as any non-Christian; hence the history of mission work in the northwest is as much a story of competition between sects as it is a story of missions to the Dene. Both the OMI and the CMS represented very particular interpretations of the Christian message, although both societies emerged within the context of the late eighteenth-century upheaval in Europe, and both were critical of their parent churches for having grown complacent and corrupt. Interestingly enough, the founders of both societies had concluded that the solution to humanity's problems lay in deepened personal spirituality. Both approached their mission work with a highly organized battle plan, which included teaching missionaries the Native languages and stressing the central importance of preaching in imparting information and stirring people to respond to the Christian message with their hearts and souls. Education was central to their plans, for people had to be capable of reading Christian literature for themselves in order to understand the principles of Christian family life. The work based at Red River received its first impetus to expand north and west through a curious series of events that began outside Red River and involved a third mission organization. In 1840 the
H5 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers Wesleyan Methodist Society sponsored four new missionaries for the northwest. Among them were Robert Rundle and James Evans. Evans, an energetic and enthusiastic man who had family connections with the HBC at Fort Simpson, established the mission headquarters at Norway House. It was during his stay there that Robert Rundle learned about the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts and resolved to visit them once he was established at Fort Edmonton, which was to be his mission home. Rundle was the first of the Methodist missionaries to visit the Dene when in the spring of 1842 he found a Chipewyan camp on the banks of the Athabasca River. Unable to speak the language, however, Rundle was uncertain whether the Chipewyan family understood his purpose. Rundle's visits must have aroused curiousity among the northern people, however, for the following year, a delegation of Metis (which possibly included some Chipewyan and Slavey people) travelled to Peace River to enquire about clergy. Abbe J.B. Thibeault of the Roman Catholic church at Red River resolved to visit them and obtained permission from the HBC to accompany the boat brigade north in 1844. James Evans at Norway House decided that the visit would be a disaster, and in the words of Letitia Hargrave, "Mr. Evans rushed to MacKenzies River by a short cut to be before hand with Monr Thibaut who as I said was taking his ease in Dugds brigade."2 The hurried trip turned tragic at Ile-a-la-Crosse when Evans's companion died under suspicious circumstances and the missionary was forced to turn back. Abbe Thibeault's mission voyage was more successful. The priest was apparently welcomed enthusiastically by the Metis "freemen" who were living in the Athabasca District, and thus, when the first two Oblate clergy arrived in the Diocese of St. Boniface shortly afterward, Bishop Provencher sent one of them, young Alexandre Tache, north on what became an annual visit to the Cree and the Chipewyan of the Athabasca District. In 1848 a group of Metis from Great Slave Lake met Tache and asked for their own priest. In 1850 or 1851, a party from Great Slave Lake arrived at Fort Chipewyan to hear Father Henri Faraud, subsequently inviting him to visit their country.3 When Faraud obliged the following spring, he claimed to have found a gathering of i ,600 to i ,800 Native people at Fort Resolution awaiting his visit.4 With these successful overtures, Bishop Provencher approached the HBC for formal permission to augment the number of priests in the Athabasca and begin a permanent mission in the Mackenzie River District. The HBC was not enthusiastic at the prospect. Since 1825, the Northern Council had been supporting the Roman Catholic and Protestant missions at Red River, believing that the church presence
116 Drum Songs
was in the "best interests of the Settlement,"5 while the London Committee had put on record its belief that "zealous and faithful ministers of religion are powerful auxiliaries to the Civil Authorities in the maintenance of that peace and order on which [the] happiness of Society depends so much."6 However, George Simpson, the governor of the Northern Department, had rather more ambivalent feelings about the utility of missions in general and their place in the interior in particular. He feared that the clergy would become a competing political force in the northwest, outside the control of the HBC. 7 He believed that the demands of the churches for transportation and supplies would become an expensive inconvenience for the company, and he was afraid that the missionaries would pull the Natives away from their fur-trapping pursuits and thus cut into the company's profits.8 Above all, he was concerned about the role missionaries from Red River might play in assisting the Metis traders in the northwest. The fact that the Athabasca Metis were so enthusiastic about inviting priests alarmed some HBC traders, who felt that connections through the church would simply facilitate trade links just then developing among the Metis through their family connections at Red River. Nevertheless, Simpson and his council accepted the London Committee's instructions and agreed to continue the policy of offering free transportation and accommodation to missionaries until such time as the churches were able to construct their own buildings. The Roman Catholic mission at Fort Chipewyan could not expand immediately, however, because of a lack of funds and shortage of personnel. Finally, in 1858, the Oblates were ready to visit the more remote posts. Father Henri Grollier applied to the HBC for permission to accompany the spring boat brigade to Fort Simpson, his request supported by several Roman Catholic employees at that post who were anxious to have their marriages recognized and their children baptized. With this flurry of Roman Catholic activity, the Anglican church at Red River was suddenly roused. Although their clergy had been discussing expansion into the northwest for some time, their proposals had been vague and not well received by some of the church hierarchy. However, the realization that the Roman Catholics were about to gain a real foothold in the "far" north alarmed their evangelical sensitivities. Immediately, the Reverend James Hunter applied to the HBC for a passage of his own in the spring boat brigade. So it was that a Roman Catholic missionary and an Anglican missionary arrived together at Fort Simpson in the summer of 1858. The first season of mission work on the Mackenzie was a sad story indeed from the viewpoint of the Christian message of brotherly
ny Prophets, Priests, and Preachers love. Both Hunter and Grollier were difficult and determined men, steeped in the prejudices of their day and desperately anxious to outbid one another for the souls of Mackenzie River. They competed with tricks and false rumours, and as chief factor Bernard Ross noted, "The clashing of rival sects has stirred up McKenzies River Stagnation !"9 That year, most of the "mission" work was really pastoral work directed at the fur traders and their families, but the missionaries quickly expanded their efforts to reach the Dene throughout their homeland.10 Both priests and ministers realized that their first task was to learn the Native languages. When Father Grollier visited the Mackenzie in 1858, he already spoke Chipewyan and was apparently also understood by the Slavey, an advantage not shared by the Anglican missionary James Hunter. Grollier's successors took great pains to acquire at least one of the Dene languages, and every effort was made to translate prayers, hymns, and catechisms into these languages using an adaptation of the syllabic system originally devised by James Evans for use among the Cree. The Anglicans also worked at translations of the Bible, since their theology emphasized the necessity for each individual to read the Word of God for him- or herself. Some of the priests also took considerable interest in learning about Dene beliefs and customs; Father Emile Petitot gained a substantial reputation in France through his published anthropological studies based on his observations and conversations with people throughout the northwest. For the Roman Catholics, a typical mission week would include twice daily services with one high mass on Sunday. Their prayer services were both teaching vehicles and religious celebrations, including hymn singing, recitation of the rosary, a sermon (in French, Chipewyan or Slavey, and "Metis-French"), and a Native prayer.11 In between these services, the priests would visit, the Dene tents, teaching and answering questions as well as offering medical assistance. Once a Native person had learned certain rudiments of the faith, he or she would be offered baptism. Syllabic catechisms and printed prayers were circulated to those who understood the syllabic system. Rosaries and medals were given to those who attended services or instruction; calendars for keeping track of Sundays and other holy days were distributed for the Natives' use while they were travelling in the bush. Particular celebrations were staged on important feast days such as Christmas, Easter, Immaculate Conception Day (December), and the Assumption of the Virgin Mary (August). Adults who observed these ceremonies and other church doctrine would make their first communion some two or three years after baptism.
n8 Drum Songs While much teaching was done orally or through pictures, the Oblate mission also stressed its literacy program. The Dene were almost uniformly enthusiastic about learning the secrets of written communication. Most of the early literacy work was with adults, but with the arrival of the Sisters of Charity of Montreal (Grey Nuns) in 1867, the emphasis shifted to teaching children. Classes for the Dene children did not provide a European-style education; rather they received instruction in Christian beliefs and morality, as one of the sisters explained: Our little mission in the McKenzie has worked since the beginning of its foundation to raise young people in all innocence and to lead them ... ultimately to form all-Christian families who will maintain civilisation and above all, the faith ... Future generations might produce vocations for the priesthood or religious life; what is important at the moment is to develop good mothers who understand the obligations of their position. All our care and all our efforts are directed at this vitally important goal.12
A large school at Providence was established with the first pupils drawn primarily from among the children of HBC employees, but the sisters were soon entrusted with increasing numbers of orphaned or abandoned children from Dene bands, so that by 1889 the number of orphans in their care exceeded the number of other students. These children were taught reading, writing, and elementary arithmetic, but most lessons were moral and religious training. In 1853 Eugene de Mazenod issued a statement of "Instructions on Foreign Missions" that told Oblates that "every means" should be used "to bring the nomad tribes to abandon their wandering life and to build houses [and] cultivate fields."13 The Athabasca-Mackenzie missionaries never really followed these orders, however, primarily because the missionaries themselves quickly learned that a sedentary, agricultural life was extremely difficult in the north. Their own gardens frequently failed, and they relied heavily on fish for food, like the peole to whom they were ministering. Second, the northern missions took their directions increasingly from St Boniface (Red River) where Archbishop Tache followed Provencher's early lead in emphasizing spiritual conversion rather than cultural or economic change. As a result, the Oblate priests in the nineteenth century accommodated their work to the Dene annual round rather than encouraging cultural change in an unrealistic and improbable direction. Children in the Providence school were taught skills not unlike those taught by their parents, and were returned to their bands to pursue a hunting and trapping livelihood as what might be called
ng Prophets, Priests, and Preachers "Christian hunters."14 Both the Oblates and the Grey Nuns believed that Christianity could be quite viable in a hunting culture; hunters could be good Christians without becoming farmers. In fact, the case was sometimes even made that the bush life was preferable, since it "nearly always keeps the members of the same family together, and therefore away from many occasions of sin."'5 In other words, people living in the bush could avoid the increasing numbers of nonNatives in the north, and thus avoid the influence of Protestants or of "godless" behaviour. Nevertheless, the Roman Catholic missionaries did seek changes in those elements of Dene society they believed were incompatible with Christian values. In particular, they opposed infanticide, polygamy, shamanic activities, and what they perceived as cruelty to women. 16 The approach of the CMS to its northern missions has also been misunderstood. One of the fundamental principles of the society was the belief that its goal was to establish indigenous Native churches that would be "self-supporting, self-governing, selfextending."17 The missionary was to act merely as a catalyst to assist in the founding of such a church, and then he would withdraw from the field entirely. The society was also firm in its belief that its work was that of evangelizing only; funds were not available for schools (except for training Native ministers), for hospitals, or for other "social work." If a missionary wanted to undertake any of these projects, he would have to solicit funds independently of the CMS. Just as the Oblate mission had not followed instructions from France in their entirety, the CMS missionaries in AthabascaMackenzie also developed their own approaches. The missionaries established small day schools at their missions to teach reading and writing so that people could read the Gospel for themselves. For a brief time, the mission also supported a home for orphaned children at Great Bear Lake and a small asylum at Fort Simpson. A model farm and "industrial school" was founded at Vermilion in 1879—80, although it never succeeded in attracting many students.18 Funds for these projects came from sources other than the CMS, including money raised in Canada. A more successful diocesan school was established at Fort Resolution and moved to Hay River in 1895. Here, day students, several boarders, and a number of Sunday school pupils were taught to read and write using books written in Slavey (using both syllabic and Roman characters). However, the Native church policy of the CMS was not given any sort of realistic trial in the north because of the rather eccentric concerns of William Carpenter Bompas, who was consecrated bishop in 1873. Bompas was dogmatically evangelical and feared that a Native church would drift
lao Drum Songs far from its evangelical moorings; he also had little faith in the ability of Dene catechists and missionaries. It was not until after Bompas had left the diocese that the first Native deacons were ordained. While the Oblate mission had suffered from internal disputes to some extent, the CMS mission had much more serious problems. There was never a clear sense of direction or consistency of purpose. During Bompas's term of office, there was a confused swing between purely evangelical proselytizing and directed cultural change programs. His attempts to teach Dene children to settle down to agricultural or industrial pursuits received so little interest from the Dene and almost no financial support, from Canada and England that he was never able to attempt his experiments on any significant scale. Only the work of Robert McDonald among the Gwich'in was more consistent. By 1890 the CMS was admitting that most people in Athabasca-Mackenzie were at least nominally Roman Catholic, and the society could no longer justify the expense of maintaining the Anglican mission. The Anglican Church in Canada had little interest in the work, so that when the CMS began to reduce its grants early in the twentieth century, the northern missions were left to teeter precariously on the edge of bankruptcy for many years.' 9 Given the nature of both the OMI and CMS, many popular stereotypes about their work in the nineteenth century prove to be quite inaccurate. Both societies were more interested in preaching and spiritual salvation than they were in inducing material cultural change. Both stressed the use of Native languages in their work. Neither achieved much success in attracting Dene students to their schools. Most pupils were the Metis offspring of fur trade families; few "bush" Natives participated and those who did come attended only sporadically and seldom for more than one or two years. Nevertheless, both societies introduced a fundamental challenge to the Dene. The missionaries claimed that they were bringing the sole religious truth and that those who accepted their message would have to make changes in their lives. In particular, the missionaries opposed polygamy, infanticide, and the ease with which the Dene terminated marriage arrangements. Furthermore, the missionaries were teaching more than the "pure" message of the Gospels. They linked Christianity to a European world view that included different ideas about the status of women, patterns of work and leisure, sexual customs, gambling, and even what constituted acceptable humour. They also provided a very different model of religious leadership. How then did the Dene respond to these strangers in their midst? Initially, they welcomed the missionaries with customary hospitality and demonstrated a keen interest in what the clergy had to say.
121 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
"Most of them listen with attention & some of them with evident interest," reported W. D. Reeve from Fort Simpson in 1869.*° At Providence, Father Emile Grouard noted that he was "charmed by the liveliness with which the Indians gather at the sound of the bell."21 The novelty of the mission even seemed to be drawing the Dene away from their normal pursuits, as Bernard Ross of the HBC lamented: "Cadien says that if the Priest does not visit Fort Rae, there will be no point in sending Hoole with the Indians to the cariboux country, as the natives will most probably resort to Fort Resolution for the purpose of obtaining instruction."" While the Anglicans were unwilling to baptize anyone until considerable instruction had been given, the Oblates were delighted at the number of Dene who agreed to be baptized early in their encounters. By 1865 about one-third of the population around Fort Simpson and nearly four-fifths of the Providence population had been baptized by the priests.23 It was not long before the number of baptisms suddenly fell off and the missionaries began to complain about the Natives' "laziness" and "indifference" towards mission teaching. At Fort Liard in 1872, the Rev. W.D. Reeve reported that he had attempted to teach a group of people, "but when, after making a few common place remarks, I pulled out my Indian book, they all got up and left the room."24 Mgr Isidore Glut was profoundly disturbed by these changes, particularly among the Providence people who had once been the Oblates' greatest hope. When he asked one chief why his people had lost interest, "the chief replied to me that one of our Fathers, seeing that they were persisting in their evil conduct, had threatened them with hell if they did not change ... [so they] got it into their heads to try to go to heaven without the help of the priest."25 What had happened to cause this change of heart? It is important to realize that the Dene were responding to the missionaries just as they responded to their own shamans and prophets.26 After all, the missionaries claimed (like shamans) that they had a special ability to proclaim mysteries invisible to other people, that they had special channels of communication with the unseen world, and that they had the power to better people's lives. Thus, the Dene reacted in much the same way as they would when one of their own people proclaimed such points: they listened, they looked for practical proof, they might accept the teaching for a time, and then they would look to other leaders if the first one's powers seemed to fail. As one member of the Mountain people explained to an Anglican minister about his encounters with a priest, "At first I thought the
122 Drum Songs
Holy Father was like God, then I believed him to be like Satan but now I think he is a fool."27 Nevertheless, the Dene were always careful to show consideration and respect for the missionaries, just as they would towards a shaman, because of the possibility that the individual might be able to cause them harm. As David Kirkby of the CMS reported, "In a few hearts among the Indians I believe there are some real feelings towards God, but for the most part they are very indifferent. They attend prayers, it is true, but I believe from either a 'superstitious' motive ... or to please their ministers."28 Church ceremonies were often requested by the Dene in a manner indicating that such ceremonies were being interpreted within the context of traditional beliefs, not that the Dene had experienced an inward spiritual conversion as the priests and ministers had hoped. People frequently asked for the sign of the cross to be made over an ailing relative or to be used to prevent illness, without understanding its symbolism for the missionaries or having accepted other elements of Christian teaching.29 Mgr Grandin was once asked for a supply of holy oil so that a band could perform the ceremony of baptism themselves for protection while out in the bush. 3° This response to the missionaries also meant that the Dene felt free to transfer allegiances between the churches or between individual missionaries if one proved "stronger" than the other, leading the missionaries to lament the Natives' apparent ability to "possess two minds in the matter of Religion."3' A typical mission scene was described by W.D. Reeve, who was visiting a party of Dogrib camped outside Fort Simpson: I was tired last night but found it impossible to sleep owing to the noise made by the Indians who commenced gambling & beating the drums as soon as I laid down ... 1 told them it was wrong to gamble on Sunday & tried to dissuade them but unsuccessfully ... I returned to the other lodge, & during a lull in the game asked them if we should have prayers. They at once consented & were quiet & attentive during the service, but soon after its conclusion they were gambling as earnestly as ever.32
The first real test of power for the missionaries arose in a devastating epidemic of scarlet fever that swept through the district in 1864—65. Unable to provide much in the way of medical assistance, the missionaries devoted considerable effort to comforting the sick and baptizing those who had requested it in the hope of inducing a recovery. Of course, many who had been baptized later died, and fathers Petitot and Grouard noted that the Fort Simpson people were not only losing interest in their religious teaching, but were also ex-
123 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
hibiting actual fear of the priests. Grouard discovered that he was being held responsible for the death of a man whom he had baptized, and the word was being circulated that "the Catholic religion and the baptism of the Priest are causing death."33 The Anglicans encountered the same difficulty. W.D. Reeve reported a few years later at Fort Simpson that "one man has turned Roman Catholic on account of some fancied slight during the time of the fever, and because his wife and two children died."3^ Between 1865 and 1871, the number of baptisms at Providence and Simpson dropped dramatically, as the Dene turned to their own spiritual leaders for help in time of crisis. Disease was not the only test of spiritual power. Game shortages also provided periods of crisis to challenge priest and shaman alike. When one Oblate priest scolded a man for reverting to magical practices after having been baptized, he received the reply that the man "could not see his relatives suffer from hunger and do nothing while he knew he could make the caribou come by his incantations."35 Once again, practical results were the Dene test for new ideas. A second reason the Natives began to reject the mission teaching involved a fundamental difference in philosophy. The Anglicans in particular based their appeal on the belief that man was sinful by nature and could be saved only by faith through the propitiation of Jesus Christ. The Dene, while they might believe that breaking moral laws could result in punishment, could never be convinced that they were fundamentally bad. W.D. Reeve noted their reluctance to learn a prayer for the forgiveness of sins; "one old woman said the Indians have no sins, they always walk 'straight,' and therefore there was no need for that petition,"36 he recorded. "From a few observations that I have made I think it is a difficult matter to convince these Indians that their hearts are naturally sinful."37 Since the missionaries were unable to convert the Dene to an acceptance of this first step in the chain of Christian theological thinking, it is hardly surprising that they began to encounter resistance to their other ideas. Some Dene rejected the Christian message because it did not seem logical or consistent to them. One visitor to Fort Simpson recounted an incident in which a Native man asked the priest for a two-dollar loan and then deposited the money on the offering plate at the next day's service with considerable display. After some time, the priest asked the man to repay the loan. The man responded that he had already repaid it, on the offering plate in church. When the priest protested that such money was not for him, but for God, the Native replied, that "God did not need the money, that he was rich," and
124
Drum Songs
that the priest himself had recently preached that where "God lived all the streets were made of gold," so the priest would be wiser to keep the money himself. 38 In another instance, a man who had initially accepted the Christian message rejected it after a long period of illness. William Spend love of the CMS reported, "He tells me he finds it difficult to understand how God should afflict him who tries to serve him while many are well in health whose lives are sinful."39 To this man, the Native explanation for the nature of illness seemed more convincing because it had practical proof. Others rejected the mission teaching because the non-Natives themselves did not seem to be following it. Indeed, the missionaries were acutely aware of the fact that other Euro-Canadians in the north, far from being pristine examples of Christian living, appeared to be members of a society that proclaimed certain moral values as laws but then failed utterly to follow them. The conflict was only too obvious to the Dene. Furthermore, some Dene resented what they considered the hypocrisy of the missionaries in preaching morality while themselves breaching laws the Natives considered equally important- One visitor to Fort Simpson expressed his disgust with the Oblates and announced he was leaving their flock after "they asked his children indecent questions respecting himself, his wife etc." during confession.40 Related to this problem of inconsistency was the problem of mission-educated children. Even one of the Anglican missionaries realized that the schools seemed to be encouraging behavior that ran counter to fundamental Christian values, and that as a consequence the Natives were accusing them of deliberate deception: "Civilized life, Christian treatment &c. actually unfit them for 'camp life' and the demeanour of their parents becomes distasteful hence they disobey and dispise them ... Consequently the Missionary is supposed to have done them harm when he has spent much time and patience doing them good ... the more they know of kind treatment!,] right and wrong[,] the sooner they disrespect parents."41 While supposedly being taught to respect their elders, the children were returning to their parents less respectful than ever. The Dene disapproved, and for many years, few of their children were sent to mission schools by parents who failed to see the advantages materialize as promised. Probably the most important reason for the decreasing interest that followed the Dene's initial curiosity was their growing realization of the fundamental differences between the Europeans and themselves. The Natives soon noted that the missionaries (and the Anglicans in particular) were very much one-sided in their de-
125 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
mands, exhibiting none of the reciprocity that the Dene valued so highly in interpersonal relationships. The missionaries' rudeness in this regard was both perplexing and annoying to the Dene. When Father Grouard attempted to intervene in a dispute over a woman at Fort Liard in 1866, one of the Dene leaders visited him later to say, "Why do you interfere in something which is none of your business? When you pray down there in your lodge, we leave you alone; leave us alone as well, to manage our affairs as we see fit."42 When W.W. Kirkby appealed for converts, he was told, "If you want us to adopt your prayers, here is the condition we make for it. You are a married man, you have sons and daughters; very well, consent to take our daughters as wives for your sons, and give your daughters as wives for ours. Maybe then we will have faith in your words."43 A different understanding of reciprocity and obligation also created problems at the missions. The Grey Nuns lamented that some people expected to receive payment for leaving their children at the mission school,44 while the CMS mission also despaired that the Natives would ever contribute either to the mission per se or to the education of their children. As one incident recounted by W.D. Reeve at Fort Simpson illustrates, the Dene were not prepared to share the European view of the proper nature of the relationship between the clergy and their flocks: "A brother of the youngest orphan boy at the mission tried to take him away this evening ... the child has been under the care of the missionary ever since he was born & the man has not contributed an ounce of meat for his support, but because the child has on a new suit of leathern clothes he wishes to take him away ... [and] teach him to hunt."45 In fact, the attitude of the Dene towards sending their children to the mission schools repeated an earlier situation in the culture contact scenario almost exactly. From the beginning of the HBC involvement with Native peoples in the fur trade, the Natives had agreed to permit traders to take Native wives only if the traders provided some service to the women's families in return. As one Albany post servant had explained, the Natives believed that since "ye Englishemen ... Keeped there Women, they had a Right to there Victuals."46 In exactly the same way, the Dene expected return favours for allowing the missionaries the privilege of sharing their children. Far from accepting the mission teaching as a gift bestowed upon them, as the missionaries believed it to be, the Dene demonstrated a response the churchmen found inexplicable. W. Spendlove noted the difficulty of gathering the Slavey at Fort Simpson for prayer, but realized that "in a few days they will 'wait upon Bishop' to beg, or as they think[,] to do him a favour."4? In another case, Spendlove was struggling to
ia6 Drum Songs
attract more Dene children and orphans into the mission schools. He had no success at all until one day, when a delegation of Natives paid him a visit to enquire how many children we had given up for God and for the sake of the Gospel? I told them seven. [Spendlove had seven children.] How many boys and girls was the next question asked? 5 boys and 2 girls was the reply. After a long and serious talk among themselves they said we will do the same and when the Bishop's boat comes up you will see the same number and kind put on board ready to embark I agreed to their parents' request to accompany them to Fort Simpson. 18
When the missionaries dismissed such requests for reciprocity as ludicrous, the Dene were clearly offended and became resentful of the one-sided demands of the clergy. As the initial Dene interest diminished, the priests and ministers became increasingly perplexed about what was wrong. Because they failed to understand Dene traditions of reciprocity and and social obligation, they attributed their difficulties with the Natives to a range of problems quite removed from reality. The most common explanation, advanced by both Anglicans and Roman Catholics, was that the Natives were being misled by the underhanded tactics of the opposing church. "The Roman priests are most unprincipled in their dealings with the Indians," lamented David Kirkby. "They stir up, instead of smothering their superstitious feelings ... horrifying them with the dreadful consequences of disobedience."49 The Roman Catholics, in turn, complained that "gifts, promises, threats: nothing was spared to pervert the neophytes ... With the gold of the Bible Societies, [the Protestant ministers] bought souls more than converting them."5" Both sides mistakenly believed that the Dene were confused by the opposition and were unable to make the "rational" choice. The missionaries' second most common conclusion was that the Native people were intellectually or socially slow to realize the "proper" state of religious organization and behaviour. They described those tribes that proved more responsive to mission teaching as more intelligent, and those who resisted as stupid or lazy. 5' The ethnocentrism of these nineteenth-century Europeans was such that they assumed anyone who saw the world differently must be somehow backward or underdeveloped. For their part, those people who had become disenchanted with the missionaries and their messages decided to use the missions to their own advantage, even if only in a small way, which might mean a visit to the church in order to receive gifts of tea and tobacco. During times of hardship, small children could be left conveniently at
127 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
the missions, where they could be housed for the winter. The exchange was the privilege of having the child, if only temporarily. For that privilege and trust, the missions were expected to provide good care and payment with food and clothing. More importantly, the Dene looked to the missionaries as sources of information about Europeans and their society. They were particularly curious about the manufacture of trade goods and anxious to know the secrets of the society that could produce such goods.52 The Dene eagerly acquired reading and writing skills, partly so that they might secure better trade advantages by cultivating relationships with individual HBC men and partly so that they could disseminate information about that trade. While the HBC traders willingly shared some aspects of their lives with the Dene, they were reluctant to discuss other aspects, such as the economics of the trade, in order to protect their position. The Dene therefore turned to the missionaries as potential informants, and not surprisingly, they were not particularly interested in "Native catechists" like Allen Hardisty of the CMS. During his first year of work at Fort Simpson, Hardisty was not the success the society had hoped he would be among his own people. As W.D. Reeve mused, "I sincerely hope ... that this has been owing more to his position than his disposition. There are several young men about his own age, & others, who remember that but a few years ago he was as ignorant as themselves, & who, instead of being pleased to be taught by him, resent the idea of him 'setting himself up' as a teacher."53 Bishop Bompas seems to have been partially aware of the attitude, explaining that the Native people "do not much value one of their own countrymen as teacher, for they had not sufficient trust in their attainments & they seem to view Christianity as a message from the White man's God."54 Not only did the Dene want to hear about Christianity from the Euro-Canadians, but they were unwilling to accept the teaching of young men who had not proven their spiritual powers to the community. Finally, there were some very practical and tangible reasons for the declining Dene interest in mission teaching. Both the CMS and the OMI began to insist on certain preconditions for baptism, most notably the abandoning of polygamy by the prospective recipient. Quite apart from the issue of unnecessary culture change, which would naturally be resisted, the Natives were faced with an acutely painful and personal dilemma. How could a man abandon his "extra" wife or wives; who would hunt for them? And how was a man to choose which wife to keep? As one Yukoner explained to an ethnographer, "You know how people sometimes had two wives? Minister say, that's wrong. Choose one they say. Imagine that; live
ia8 Drum Songs
with two women all that time, have to choose one. That's hard, I think."55 The priests and ministers seemed to have been quite insensitive to the problem. It is hardly surprising that the Dene began to lose interest in such an unresponsive and inflexible system. Nevertheless, after periods of initial interest and then declining attention, the missionaries gradually became accepted as part of life in the north. Christian rituals and practices became widely known and almost as widely performed. More Dene were labelling themselves as followers of the Christian faith, so that by the iSgos both mission societies began to perceive that their role had changed. Pastoral care and the stimulation of those already grounded in Christian beliefs gradually replaced the emphasis on conversion. The Dene began to incorporate certain elements of mission teaching into their lives, and relationships with the churches became more congenial and regularized. However, it is still not clear whether the Dene were becoming assimilated into Euro-Canadian culture and whether they had completely accepted the Christian value system. The missionaries themselves were most cautious in making any such claims, even after forty years of effort. As Bishop Bompas explained to the CMS in 1891, "You use a strange argument for handing over these Missions to Canadians that many of the Indians have now been Christians for many years, as though the work was already done, when it is yet hardly begun. In Mackenzie River I fear there are very few real Christians though many professing ones. Our work has been so far a failure."56 Non-church observers expressed similar hesitation at declaring the Dene "Christianized." "Whether or not they [the missionaries] actually do any good, as far as spiritual enlightenment goes," mused traveller Michael H. Mason, "I do not feel qualified to say. I think that the missionaries over-estimate their success in making genuine converts."57 Some of the most important evidence about the Dene response to the mission presence comes from the records of a number of socalled Prophet Movements that appeared throughout the region from time to time, causing considerable consternation among the priests and ministers. Similar movements have been observed among Native societies across North America in the culture contact situation, and anthropologists have developed a number of theories concerning them. Sometimes these movements are described simply as attempts to syncretize (unify and reconcile) traditional and Christian religious values and practices. 58 Others prefer to name them "crisis cults" in the sense that they represent a collective response to a "chronic or acute crisis" of some kind.59 Perhaps the best-known analysis of the phenomenon is that of Anthony F.C. Wallace, who
lag Prophets, Priests, and Preachers called them "revitalization movements,"60 making that term a standard in ethnohistorical literature. Wallace has interpreted many of these movements as attempts to rebuild a shattered community, such as the Handsome Lake phenomenon among the divided Iroquois Confederacy (1799-1815). Religious movements had been observed among the Dene long before the coming of the missionaries. For example, at Fort Chipewyan in 1813, the Chipewyan people instigated "a conspiracy" to kill all the whites in the district when an influential man "prophesied that there would soon be a complete change in the face of their country; that fertility and plenty would succeed to the present sterility; and that the present race of white inhabitants, unless they became subservient to the Indians, would be removed, and their places filled by other traders, who would supply their wants in every possible manner."6' The first mission report of a northern prophet movement came from Alexandre Tache after his 1859 visit to Ile-a-la-Crosse. A young man there claimed that he was the son of God, spoke in tongues, and urged his family followers to destroy all their possessions. He proclaimed that he had received a revelation from God in which "the heavens stooped down and the earth drew near until all came within the compass of his tent, and a voice revealed to him the will of God which had not been made known before to any man."62 He said he had learned that man could achieve eternal life here on earth, and he had a magical bag of powerful articles to help himself and his followers. Interest in his teaching lasted several years. Several smaller groups formed among the Dene during the early i86os. At Portage la Loche, two sons of an ex-shaman (who had been baptized by the Oblates) claimed to have been visited by three gods: the Creator, Jesus, and Mary. One of the young men explained that during this visit many truths had been revealed to them; the attending priest described his lengthy oration as a mixture of Christian and "pagan" beliefs. This revelation apparently did not attract as many followers as the earlier one at Ile-a-la-Crosse.63 At about the same time, Father Glut at Fort Chipewyan reported the presence of a man who also claimed to have talked to God and the angels and therefore to be wiser than the priest in such matters. In particular, he declared that polygamy, adultery, and fornication were no longer to be considered wicked.64 Emile Petitot reported that these manifestations occurred at nearly every post in the district in one form or another. One of his own personal experiences involved a couple of seers at Fort Good Hope in 1878 who prophesied that a great flood would sweep away the mission and trading post at that place, destroying all the white
130 Drum Songs
man's buildings. Another man named Ekerichli had required his people to bow before him, confess their sins to him, and be rebaptized by him. His reputation among many of his followers was somewhat tarnished, however, when a year later his own wife claimed to have had a dream vision in which it was revealed to her that Ekerichli was a great liar and that she was the Blessed Virgin sent to the people to bring them back to God.6& At Fort Simpson, William Spendlove reported on one man who had emerged from a four-day trance to tell his people the secrets of the unseen world he had visited. He prepared an elaborate painting on a deer skin to represent the future world, hoping that the Indians would use this deer to teach each other after his death. "In the spring he died as he had said," Spendlove marvelled, "to the sorrow of all his friends who almost worshipped him. The parchment was brought here this spring for the Bishop and it is really wonderful."66 All of these prophets demonstrated a continuity with traditional Dene religious activities but also expressed various degrees of toleration for European Christianity. The concept of heaven was merged with the aboriginal concept of a place where spirits dwelt; hence the Christian idea of an afterlife was maintained as compatible with Dene beliefs. The Dene added their own belief that gifted people could visit this unseen world while still alive. Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary (as well, sometimes, as the rest of the saints) were readily accepted as great spirits like those with whom the Dene were already acquainted. The man who claimed that he was the son of God and the woman who believed she was a reincarnated Mary demonstrated the immediacy with which the Dene viewed the role of these spirits in the world. Some of the prophets urged their followers to abandon Christian artifacts and beliefs completely, while other prophets were willing to adopt certain new ideas. Specific objections were raised most commonly against mission teaching on the marriage relationship, sexual taboos, and the ban on Sunday work, while smaller matters, such as the performance of religious ceremonies after dark, might also be criticized. One man rejected the Roman Catholic mass as a legitimate religious ceremony but accepted other aspects of that faith. Often the prophets were speaking against both the white man's religion and his economic demands. Thus, some of the Kutcha-Kutchin (Yukon Flats Gwich'in) believed in the future coming of a Native "messiah" who would rid the country of all white men (missionaries and traders both) while allowing his people to keep tea, tobacco, and metal implements.67 One frequently noted call was for the abandoning of the practice of using dogs in teams or singly for labour.68 The significance of this
131 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
concern is not clear, but there are two possible explanations. The first is related to the use of dogs as beasts of burden. The Dogrib believed themselves to have descended from a dog, and other northern groups demonstrated considerable respect for canines, calling them brothers and relatives. The introduction of dog teams through the Euro-Canadian traders may have been viewed with considerable distaste by the Dene and held as symbolic of the differences between outsiders and Dene. Hence, the oft-repeated call for an end to using dogs may well have represented a general dissatisfaction with many elements of European culture. The second possible explanation is even more intriguing. Historian Jacqueline Peterson has suggested that the Ojibwa may have been encouraging the adoption of certain Ojibwa beliefs throughout the west at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Had knowledge of their White Dog ceremony also reached the Mackenzie District? The question is a fascinating one meriting more research.69 The missionaries interpreted these prophet movements in several ways. Most often, the prophets were dismissed as insane or mentally unbalanced.70 On occasion, though, they might be seen as genuine cases of possession by the devil, as Father de Krangue interpreted the behaviour of a young man at Fort Simpson in iSyi. 7 1 Father Grouard, on the other hand, believed them to be simply traditional "jongleurs," or medicine men, who "instinctively" understood the dangers the missionaries posed to their power and prestige, and who "became the unyielding enemies of the priest, using all possible means to hinder his work."?2 The Anglicans seemed to have been less aware of the actual content of these movements, making few references to them in their journals; when they were noted, the activities of the Natives were attributed to fanaticism induced by superstitious Roman Catholic teachings. None of these "movements" was long-lasting, nor did any attract significant numbers of followers. In this sense, they were quite consistent with the traditional loose leadership patterns of Dene society and with that society's toleration for individual autonomy. On the other hand, the fact that these movements continued to appear throughout the period in question, and over a wide geographical area, suggests that dissatisfaction and even outright opposition to the mission teaching were active and widespread. The Dene were scarcely passive recipients of European lessons in religion, morality, and culture as many western observers have claimed. However, a number of specific Christian rites and ceremonies found favour among the Dene. Baptism received the most attention in the mission records, probably because the Roman Catholics
132 Drum Songs
viewed it as the mark of conversion and the Anglicans saw it as the beginning of a Christian life. The Dene certainly do not appear to have interpreted the ceremony in the same way. After a visit to Fort Rae, Mgr Grandin reported the following incident, which illustrates one of the Native interpretations very well: "A chief came urging me to baptise the shirt of one of his hunters who was dying too far off for me to be taken to him. Two mothers, whose children had died without being baptized, begged me to baptize their tiny bonnets. Devastated at not being successful on this point, they begged me to take these bonnets and keep them safe."73 To some, baptism was a magical ceremony that would protect a person or his or her soul from evil, much as the purpose of the shaman's performances had done. Hence, baptism was frequently requested during times of illness or other hardship. Others submitted to baptism as a means to show respect for the missionary or to forge an alliance with a man of spiritual power, and thus in one sense to protect themselves from potential malevolence.74 A northern chief wanted to have his son baptized with the name "Jesus Christ," but when Bishop Grandin opposed the choice, the chief defended it with this explanation: "I did that so that Jesus Christ will continue to remember him."75 Most of the missionaries did not seem to be aware of the way the Dene viewed baptism or church attendance; only David N. Kirkby of the CMS seems to have grasped something of the truth. As he wrote to the society, "They are not irreligious, for in private conversation they will often tell one how much they desire the good will of God." But he went on to lament, "As I judge, an Indian attends Church from three motives, (i) If the Minister says the prayers over him, it will be a kind of charm from evil (2) to please the Minister (3) and, I am afraid, last of all, to please God."76 Another aspect of the Christian faith in which the Dene participated, perhaps even more enthusiastically, was the Roman Catholic confessional. When a member of a small band died, Father Grouard noted the desire of the remainder of the group to demonstrate their penitence.77 Emile Petitot made numerous references in his writing to the Dene acceptance of the confessional. It is hardly surprising. As Petitot and others had observed, Dene shamans had made use of the confession as part of their religious observances before the arrival of the missionaries. Petitot attributed the greater interest demonstrated by the Dene in Roman Catholicism to this similarity of belief and practice: "This conformity between our blessed religion and several of their ancient practices will doubtless be for them a preservative against the poison of Protestantism, where they find
133 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
neither confession nor fasting; similarly the correlation between their traditions and the Mosaic was one of the factors which affirmed their faith in the words of the priest."78 The Dene appear to have considered the confessional as one of the most important elements of the Roman Catholic faith. When the Grey Nuns first arrived at Athabasca, the Natives crowded round them curiously, demanding to know whether they said Mass, and whether they heard women's confessions particularly.79 There seems to have been little difference between the Dene interpretation of confession and that of the priests. It was one small area of effective communication. Prayers and music were also accepted by the Dene as a part of religious ceremonies. Many northern visitors commented on the sight of Indians saying grace before meals or praying before a hunting expedition.80 The missionaries recognized the appeal of hymns and made every effort to incorporate music into the religious services: the Grey Nuns at Providence had a harmonium, William Spendlove played the concertina at Fort Simpson, while Charlotte Bompas played the harmonium to the "great delight and astonishment" of the Fort Norman people.81 Both churches translated hymns into Slavey, Gwich'in, and Chipewyan so that the words would be meaningful to the congregations. Music was an important part of the Dene's lives, as has been noted, particularly in relation to the acquisition of spiritual power. It is not surprising, then, that they so readily accepted the use of music in European religion. What is particularly interesting, however, is the fact that the Natives were not always convinced of the power or utility of those foreign hymns. In 1866 Emile Petitot recorded a conversation with one man who professed faith in the Trinity, Jesus Christ, Mary, and the Saints but rejected Christian hymns, preferring instead a traditional Dene chant of two syllables that he believed had been revealed by God to a sick person.82 The chants given to individuals might be sources of power for them alone, so it is consistent with precontact beliefs that the Natives should continue to search for their own songs rather than accept only those provided by the missionaries. Nevertheless, just as a shaman might give his song to another, so some of the Dene appear to have accepted the power of mission hymns. As one told Emile Petitot, all his children had died, but "if I have a book of hymns, I will sing, and that will console me."83 Finally, the Dene responded enthusiastically to the Roman Catholic crucifixes, rosaries, medals, and pictures the priests provided to them during instruction or after baptism. The Evangelical Anglicans, who refused to use such objects, found this interest frustrating
134 Drum Songs
and annoying, but as one of their missionaries astutely noted, "There is a great hankering for the medals & crucifixes given by the priests. They are looked upon, for the most part, in the light of powerful charms which protect them from some evil thing."8* The items provided by the priests became additions to the personal medicine bundles carried by many of the northern people. In other aspects of religious practice, however, Dene beliefs were quite different from those of the missionaries, and communication and exchange became more awkward. Perhaps one of the greatest contrasts between Dene tradition and European expectation concerned the role of women in society. During the first years of mission work in the north, few women came to the trading posts, remaining behind in the camps while the men conducted the spring and autumn trades. When the missionaries finally began to see the Native women, they initially found it very difficult to gain a hearing among them. One of the Anglican ministers concluded rather unkindly that the women's diffidence was due to the fact that they were "dull of comprehension, & apparently less eager to learn than the men." Besides, he added, "they have not come in contact with civilized people so much as the men, hence the difficulty of making them understand."85 Father Grouard's observations at Providence were perhaps a little more to the point: I began regular morning and evening exercises, and I had the great pleasure of seeing all the Indians come to hear me with the exception of the women who kept to the lodges ... because up to now they imagined that religion was only for the men and that they had only to suffer in silence the brutalization to which the [illegible] and the ignorance of the Indians has reduced them. I have made every effort to get them to come to me; and thanks to God, I have succeeded. It was necessary for me to appear very severe with them and even to scold them sharply because they seemed very little concerned with what I told them at first ... Nevertheless, several appeared happy with what I told them that the good Lord's prayer is just as good for women as it is for men, and I would like to send them to heaven just as much as their husbands.86
Once the women overcame their initial hesitation about the missions, they appear to have become some of the most enthusiastic participants, following a pattern that mission societies have observed in a number of cultures throughout the world. The women agreed to act as translators and language instructors; they also quickly exploited the new possibilities opened for them once they had the moral support of the missionaries. As Faraud reported from Great
135 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
Slave Lake, his first marriage ceremony proved to be something of a surprise for everyone concerned. When he asked the bride if she would take the groom as her husband, she promptly replied in the negative, explaining that she had been taken from her father by force and abused by her spouse. "The priest comes to tell us that God gives Woman the same liberty as Man," she told the bewildered groom, "I want to enjoy this liberty; I don't want you at all." According to the priest, the assembly was initially horrified at such an outburst, but after some consideration agreed that she was a brave woman who might have a valid point.87 It also seemed that women were reluctant to speak freely to the male ministers and priests. In this regard, both mission groups found that the presence of non-Native women was most important. As noted above, some Natives looked on the Grey Nuns as a sort of "woman's priest," and William Spendlove remarked proudly on the success his wife had among the women, who were all rather "shy" with him.88 The changing relative position of men and women at the missions is reflected in the baptismal statistics. For the CMS at Fort Simpson in the 18605, the ratio of adult male baptisms to adult female baptisms was almost 2 to i; at Fort Norman for the same period, it was 6 to i.89 By the iSgos, however, there had been a dramatic change. At Fort Norman, for example, there were no adult men baptized at all, while four women received the sacrament.90 It would seem that eventually, more women were exposed to intensive religious teaching, since the number of girls at the Providence school always exceeded the number of boys, whether the count is made among the orphaned children or among the regular students.91 What effect these changes had on the Native women, or how their husbands responded, can not be conclusively determined. Emile Petitot believed that religion transformed the "pitiful" lives of the Dene women, reflecting, "Ah! I now understand why women are more religious than men; why Jesus was followed above all by women ... why the principal consolations of the priest are furnished him by the feminine portion of his flock. Religion is necessary to man, but it is indispensible to the happiness of woman, if she does not want to be disparaged."92 He was not more specific in describing the changes Christian faith might bring, however. It is not clear whether he meant that belief in the promise of the Christian heaven made the burdens of women's lives easier to bear, or whether he observed actual material changes in the women's lives and relationships. One twentieth-century observer believed that the Dene women had become "more emancipated" and increasingly likely to
136 Drum Songs
"rule the roost,"93 but the word of one rather unreliable observer can scarcely be taken as conclusive evidence. The conflict between the Roman Catholic and Protestant missions in the north has sometimes been used as an explanation for the indifference of the Dene to European religion in general.94 However, according to Native religious tradition, a reaction of confusion and alienation on the part of the Dene was unlikely. Contests of influence and power were traditionally part of the shaman's life, and the Protestant or Catholic missionary's opposing claims to possess "The Truth" about God were no different from any shaman's claim. Surveyor John H. Lefroy was probably close to an understanding of the situation when he commented on the conflict between the Anglican and Methodist missionaries at The Pas. "The Indians ... looked upon it precisely as they do on the disputes of their medicine men," wrote Lefroy. "He whose medicine is strongest gets the victory."95 What "medicine," then, did the Dene expect from the missionaries? Most importantly, they hoped for the prevention and cure of illnesses, just as they expected their own religious leaders to provide such practical services. Neither mission group was prepared to trust solely to the efficacy of prayer in this important matter, and medical services became a major part of their work - a "handmaid" to the preaching of the Gospel, as Bishop Bompas put it. However, there is little evidence to suggest that the medical aid offered by the missionaries was particularly successful. Both the Roman Catholics and Anglicans believed fervently in the theories of "homeopathic" medicine, according to which a disease could be cured by the administration of small doses of medication that produced symptoms like those of the disease itself. The Oblates had kits made up containing drugs for common illnesses and a booklet describing their applications.96 The utility of such medicines is certainly rather doubtful, and even many Europeans did not share the enthusiasm of the system's proponents. As Augusta Morris, companion to Bishop Bompas's wife, complained in her diary, "I have been feeling really ill the last few days & seem to be getting weaker daily & my face shows it. The worst of it is there are no proper tonics here & Mr. Camsell had none, so I am forced to take homeopathic medicines, in which I have no faith, in order to satisfy Mrs. B[ompas]."97 Nevertheless, the availability of medicines at the missions appeared to have held a considerable attraction for the Natives. Early in the mission work, Father Grollier urged the appointment of a nursing sister to the north, "for then the whole District would come to her and thus Religion would spread."98 W.D. Reeve reported that news of medicine spread quickly and would draw "quite a number of
137 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
applicants" for its benefits." Sometimes, however, these applicants had no particular faith in the European medicine but were merely desperate for any assistance at all. As William Spendlove noted in his journal, he was visited one day by a Native man who had come a considerable distance seeking medicine for a dying child. "He has tried the 'Medicine Man' and his own equally useless remedies," Spendlove wrote, "but applies to me as a last resource."100 It is therefore important not to overstate the value placed by the Dene on the medical assistance provided by the missions. The link between the religious leader and the healer of the sick was, of course, a natural one in the Dene cultural context. Consequently, the missionaries found it easy to attract attention through their medical offerings, and they could elicit spiritual responses from their patients at the same time. A successful treatment would be proof of the missionary's "power," and Mgr Faraud observed, "The cure of the body is almost always followed by the cure of souls."101 In other words, the missionary who proved his powers through medical cures would, in all likelihood, gain an adherent. Illness was greatly feared by the Dene. "When an Indian is sick," commented William Spendlove, "he becomes exceedingly nervous & thinks he is going to die hence the most hardened sinner will often listen to the Gospel."loa The risk in all this, however, was inevitably revealed when the European medicine failed. Then the Dene would abandon the missions, just as they would abandon an ineffective shaman. During a major scarlet fever epidemic, for instance, attendance at the Nativity Mission at Fort Chipewyan dropped as word was spread that those who entered the priests' chapel would die.103 Furthermore, the Dene sometimes interpreted their illnesses as having been deliberately caused by the missionaries through a spirit of malevolence, just as a Dene shaman could induce disease in someone who had angered him. W.D. Reeve became rather alarmed when a Fort Nelson man accused him of having "made bad medicine" against him or someone in his tribe, and had threatened that "if any of his people died in consequence, when he came again in spring he would shake hands with [Mr Brass of the HBC] in a different fashion to what he was then doing."104 When the Canadian government assisted the OMI in the construction of the north's first modern hospital at Fort Smith in 1913-14, the Dene were faced for the first time with the foreign concept of separating the treatment of disease from active appeal to the spirits. Needless to say, it was some time before the hospital was accepted. As Bishop Breynat recalled, people would not bring their sick rela-
138 Drum Songs
lives to it until all other hopes for a cure had been tried. "Little by little, following the obtaining of positive results," he noted, "they began to appreciate its benefits."105 Besides the provision of medicine, the Dene also looked to the missions for services of another kind, services that the missions were not prepared to offer. Essentially, the Dene hoped to develop economic ties through trade with the mission stations, realizing that the needs of these posts provided an alternate source of manufactured goods to the HBC, as well as a means to circumvent the company's debt system. The company was well aware of the potential threat to its monopoly posed by the missions, and was constantly on guard in the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts for any sign that the missionaries were trading with the Natives. William L. Hardisty, chief factor at Fort Simpson, hoped that if the HBC offered generous terms for transporting mission goods, the missions would be less inclined to employ Natives for transport (thereby giving the Natives an opportunity to take furs out of the district for trade), Hardisty also offered some flexibility in prices for provisions, hoping the missions would purchase what they needed from the company rather than trading with the Natives to obtain a better price.lo6 Nevertheless, the Oblate missions in particular found it to their advantage to trade with the Natives directly, since (unlike the CMS missions) very little of their support came in the form of material goods and the order attempted to make each post as self-sufficient as possible. The HBC soon realized that the missions were bound to conduct some trade by necessity, and thus the absolute enforcement of its monopoly was impossible. Therefore, it attempted to reach a general agreement with the missions on the subject. In 1863 Hardisty wrote to Bishop Grandin, requesting his co-operation in the matter: The Indians will scarcely give us any [grease] at all now, owing to their receiving Ribbons & other fineries at the Mission in exchange for Grease. My reason for drawing your attention to this subject is not that I wish to deprive you or your Missionaries of this essential article of food - but that, you may give such instructions to your Missionaries as may insure to us at least a part of the Grease which the Indians procure by means of the Ammunition which they receive from us. By giving only Tobacco and Ammunition in exchange for Grease, as we do, I think the grievance complained of might be removed.107
Matters remained on an uneasy footing for many years. Although the missionaries did not wish to cross swords with the HBC, they be-
139 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
lieved that trade was vital to the maintenance of the missions, and also realized the political danger of offending a Native by refusing to trade with him, thereby also losing the opportunity to offer him religious teaching. lo8 The Dene were quick to take advantage of the missionaries' attempts to be diplomatic. As an Oblate historian recorded later, they were "perpetually begging" for gifts or provisions, calling the priests "unreasonable and avaricious" for withholding anything, since they had only to "send a little bit of paper into the 'Great countries'" and it would "bring them back a cargo."109 The Dene also played the Roman Catholics against the Protestants, claiming that the priest (or minister) freely offered gifts of tea, sugar, and tobacco, so that the minister (or priest) had only to do likewise to gain an adherent. As a result, each group believed that the other was bribing the Indians with such gifts. While some of this economic activity may be taken entirely at face value (that is, some Natives may have been visiting the missions solely for the purposes of trade), there may be another element involved. As Abraham Rotstein proposed in an important article, "Trade and Politics: An Institutional Approach,"110 Native societies in eastern North America built their trade relationships with the Europeans on a pre-existing superstructure of political alliances, councils, and gestures such as gift exchanges and ceremonial behaviour. Economic life as a separate aspect of human activity did not exist for them as it did in European culture, but was rather intimately intertwined with politics and social life. Very much the same argument can be made in relation to the roles of the missionary and religion in the northwest. The Euro-Canadians seemed adept at separating the religious and economic spheres of activity; indeed, the Hudson's Bay Company demanded that they be separated. The Dene, on the other hand, made no such distinction, either in their own holistic world-view or in their approach to the European presence among them. Just as the activities of the shaman could be used for economic or political ends and an individual could safeguard his or her spiritual integrity by forming an alliance with a powerful person, the Dene attempted to form similar relationships with the missionaries. Hence, trade activities and social reciprocity were used by the Natives as an integral part of this interaction. And as David Kirkby observed, the missionaries were unable to enforce their own peculiar view of sharply delineated occupations. The Dene refused to accept that the missionary's purpose among them was "purely spiritual."111 This concept is demonstrated time and again throughout the period of mission activity. When Mgr Glut visited a camp outside Providence to investigate why religious interest there had been declining,
140 Drum Songs
the leader explained his reasons, but then added that "because I had taken the trouble to come to see them in their camp, they would change their resolve, and make an effort to save themselves by the Missionaries' offices; that, in order to keep them, they would give them provisions."112 The priest's gesture in coming to their camp had been interpreted by these Natives as a sign of exchange with which they were prepared to reciprocate, in this case with an economic gesture of providing food. In fact, the missionaries themselves began to realize that gifts of tobacco and other gestures of alliance and reciprocity were a necessary part of their work, however distasteful such might be to their inherited cultural sensitivities. The practice of gift presentation at Christmas and New Year's became widespread in the north, when the Natives would congregate at the posts for dancing, celebration, and a ritual visit to both mission establishments.113 It was a minor concession on the part of the missions, but one of great importance to the Dene. No discussion about the Dene response to missions would be complete without an acknowledgment of the very important role played by the Metis population in that relationship. Most of the northern Metis were Roman Catholics, and many seem to have had some understanding of that faith before the arrival of the priests,114 probably through the teaching of parents. The Metis became important allies of the priests, explaining the faith to the bush Natives with whom they were in contact. In fact, the priests found the Metis more amenable to their requests for financial aid and contributions of food for the missions, more likely to send their children to the mission schools, and more willing to act as language instructors for newly arrived priests. They might also act as champions of the Roman Catholic faith. When Father Gascon first visited Fort Liard, he was grateful for the assistance of the wife of one of the HBC servants, a Metisse known locally as "la bonne femme Houle." She apparently worked as a crew leader on the company's Liard-Simpson boat route, giving orders that made her "a terror both to whites and to Indians."115 After visiting Red River and receiving instruction from the Grey Nuns there, she returned to the district "as bold for religion as ever she had been for the fur trade, or paganism."116 The Anglican missionaries were not particularly successful in finding allies among northerners of mixed ancestry. In fact, they seldom made the distinction between Natives and Metis, preferring to label anyone who was not Christian as "heathen." W.D. Reeve was assisted briefly in his attempts to learn Slavey by Betsy Brough, wife of an HBC servant at Fort Simpson, and another Metis named Cadien provided translation services from time to time; but the Anglicans
141 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
frequently bewailed the advantage held by the Oblates in their Metis assistants. "They have great auxiliaries in the French half-breeds whose influence over the Indians is very great," reported Reeve, "In fact, I am told they do even more than the priests to make the Indians Romanists."1'7 Reeve was quite correct in his observation that most of the Dene chose to ally themselves with the Roman Catholic mission. The reasons for this choice can only be guessed at from this distant time. Certainly, the Roman Catholic missionaries professed many concepts not much different from Dene tradition. The confessional, the charismatic religious specialist, the concept of fasting, and the wide range of saints/spirits who could intervene in the course of events may have been referred to with a different vocabulary, but the concepts were similar. On the other hand, the Anglicans professed some beliefs that were also like Dene traditions. The evangelical emphases on the individualism of the conversion experience and on the ability of every person to address the unseen world directly, without the intermediary of a priest, were certainly in keeping with Dene beliefs. Furthermore, Anglican ministers were free to marry, and the Dene considered marriage a crucial means of alliance and reciprocity. Hence it is not surprising that the Gwich'in still remember that CMS missionary Robert McDonald married a local woman and thereby committed himself to the community. 118 There may very well be a connection between that marriage and the fact that the Gwich'in are the only Dene who today generally identify themselves as Anglican. The Anglican missions also tended to be more closely linked with the HBC in the north, for although the company's official policy was impartiality, most of its officers in the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts were Anglicans who enjoyed an uneasy relationship with the Roman Catholic priests.119 The Anglican missions were usually situated closer to the HBC posts than were the Roman Catholic missions, and the attitudes of the HBC officers were frequently quite public. Therefore, those Dene anxious for political alliance or trade advantages with the HBC might have been drawn to the Anglican missions. Nevertheless, other factors proved to be more important to the Dene, attracting them instead to the Roman Catholic missions. The Anglican missions, particularly under the direction of Bishop Bompas, made unyielding demands on the Dene and expected greater changes before baptism. Such conditions must have seemed quite unreasonable to the Dene, who saw baptism as merely a sign of goodwill. Second, the Anglicans never had sufficient funds, personnel, or consistent organizational ability to establish and maintain social services in the north. The Roman Catholics provided more
142 Drum Songs
medical care and maintained a large orphanage at Providence that became a highly valued institution because it provided an alternative to infanticide in times of hardship. Third, the Oblates made more of an effort to understand Dene traditions and cultural values, tending in the process to demonstrate a greater sympathy towards them. Furthermore, the Oblates were more willing to tolerate these traditional ideas among the people who asked for baptism or took communion. The Oblates did not see a fundamental conflict between Christianity and the hunting economy, while some of the CMS missionaries broke from their own society's goals and argued that agriculture and "industrial" training were necessary to a Christian outlook. Fourth, the Anglican religious practices were different from those of the Dene in several significant ways. As evangelicals, the CMS missionaries strongly rejected the use of pictures, medals, rosaries, crucifixes, and other religious objects in both public and private devotions. The Oblates, on the other hand, encouraged the use of such items as part of their traditional methods of reaching nonliterate audiences. Because the Dene associated these objects with personal power, the Anglican refusal to supply them must have seemed most peculiar and suspicious. Were the ministers refusing to share their power or their secrets? The behaviour of the priests was in some ways more consistent with Dene expectations and their ideas more consistent with Dene traditions. In addition, the priests enjoyed the support of most of the northern Metis, who could translate the new concepts more clearly for the Dene than English ministers, with their halting attempts, could. It is hardly surprising, then, that the Dene were more interested in what the priests had to say. By the turn of the century, mission and government statistics proclaimed that the Dene had been Christianized. Dene Christianity was, however, a unique version of the faith, reflecting a range of individual responses to the challenges posed by the missionaries. Some people adopted specific elements of Christian practice that appeared to be more useful or successful than the paths taught them by their old spirit-mentors. The careful observance of prayers before meals, for example, became a widespread practice.120 Others expressed themselves to the missionaries in ways the Europeans approved, and yet could cling inwardly to their old beliefs. During his travels around Great Slave Lake, Warburton Pike noted that the Yellowknife "are very particular in observing all the outward signs" of Roman Catholicism, but that "any mischance is put down to 'bad medicine' ... [and] there are several miracle-workers and foreseers of the future" in the district.lai The Dene also tended not to want to press their beliefs on others. As W.D. Reeve was told, "they under-
143 Prophets, Priests, and Preachers
stood well themselves" but "would not be able to explain it clearly to others."122 Some people responded to the missionaries as they would to any shaman, willingly following the mission teachings as long as they proved useful in daily life and going their own way when those teachings lost their utility. Always a highly practical people, the Dene were willing to accept what "worked." Still other people rejected Christian ideas entirely, either through avoidance or through active opposition by forming a rival group of followers. In the long term, many elements of Christian belief and practice have been incorporated into the lives of the majority of Dene, although the adoption of a new religious vocabulary and new forms of religious practice has not always changed other Dene activities associated with a more traditional view of the spirit world. When anthropologist June Helm visited "Lynx Point" in the 19508, she discovered that the old blood taboos, such as avoiding menstruating women or treating animal blood with great respect, were universally upheld; she could find no relationship between Dene concepts of right and wrong and the Christian doctrines of divine law and punishment; and she noted that the traditional custom of discarding a deceased person's property was still observed.123 While today many Dene attend Roman Catholic church services, several observers have noted that participation is scarcely emphasized, so that, as one put it, "the service just carried on, the priest and teachers doing it their way, while the Indians did it theirs."124 An anthropologist who visited the Chipewyan community of Snowdrift between 1968 and 1972 noted that the belief in i n ko n ze (or the spiritual power of individuals) was still prevalent among young and old alike.125 Furthermore, he believed that some people considered Roman Catholicism to be "something essentially alien to the Indian way of life," something "imposed on the village from the outside" and not "an essential and integral part of their everyday life." One man told him that the church did not maintain a priest at Snowdrift permanently because "there is not enough money to be made from the people" there. The anthropologist noted that others seemed to view the church as a source of potential income akin to the HBC or the Canadian government. 126 Thus, while the Dene accepted some aspects of the mission teachings in the nineteenth century, their world view was not undermined completely. They refused to accept the European compartmentalization of various aspects of human endeavour, such as politics, economics, and religion. And they refused to accept the European distinction between the sacred and the profane or between human beings and the natural environment. In practical terms as well, the missionaries did not cause significant change in the nineteenth
144 Drum Songs
century. They failed to attract many Dene to their schools, and few Dene found gardening to their taste. Life on the land, flexible marriage partnerships, and continuing respect for individual decision making were still a part of Dene life. By the turn of the century, however, other changes were occurring outside the Dene homeland, and these would have a more significant impact in the long term. It is to the background to those developments that we must now turn.
7 Trappers and Traders
The decade of the i86os brought a variety of new circumstances to challenge the people of the northwest. Far away, in the colony of Canada (and farther still, in the Colonial Office in London, England), there was talk of annexing the HBC territories and serious opposition to the HBC'S position of privilege there. In 1863 the old ownership of the HBC was replaced by a group as much interested in the company's real estate as in the fur trade business, underlining changes already begun with the death of Sir George Simpson in 1860. Changes were coming from another direction as well. A rush of prospectors into the Fraser River Valley in 1858 had been followed by a move north to the Cariboo region, and while the gold inevitably was running out, a number of adventurous outsiders had become attracted to the country and were seeking new ways of making their fortunes. And, of course, when the United States purchased the territory of Alaska from the Russians in 1867, the Russian fur traders were replaced by an aggressive new breed of entrepreneurs. Just three years later, the Dominion of Canada acquired the entire northwest territory of British North America from the Hudson's Bay Company. It was not long before the consequences of each of these events were being felt in the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts. Through the i86os, freetraders from Red River continued to provide the Dene with an alternative outlet for their fur harvests. One of the most successful of these entrepreneurs was Cuthbert McGillis of White Horse Plains, an important Metis settlement just west of
146 Drum Songs
Fort Garry. McGillis made an abortive attempt to establish himself in the Athabasca District in 1861; in 1862 he succeeded in taking a small number of furs out to Red River with the assistance of Frangois Tourangeau, a member of a Metis family with a long history of service to the HBC in the district. McGillis continued his trade through local Metis networks, including the Beaulieu family, for a number of years.1 Meanwhile, the position of these Metis traders was challenged by the arrival of independent traders from an entirely new direction. Gold had been discovered in the Cariboo region of south-central British Columbia in 1860; in 1864 Governor James Douglas opened a cart road into the area from the head of navigation on the Fraser River. Prospectors fanned out into the surrounding waterways, and small amounts of gold were found on the Stikine and upper Peace rivers. When the gold ran out, a number of these men decided to remain in the north and earn their way through a combination of trapping, trading, and prospecting. The HBC officers in the Athabasca District overreacted at first. Trappers and traders "are crowding into the District," cried Alexander Christie in 1866, instructing his men to "vigorously oppose" the traders and give "no encouragement whatever" to the trappers.2 In fact, most of the newcomers soon abandoned their dreams of easy riches and left the district. One of the few to remain was Dan Williams, a Black from Canada West who established a small post at Battle River where he planted a garden and traded furs for several years before selling his property to the HBC and returning to Fort St John's.3 When rumours reached the HBC that these newcomers had plans to expand into the Mackenzie District as well, the company initiated an energetic response to obtain the Dene trade. Better fur prices were offered to undercut the competition, and men were deployed directly into the Native camps to purchase furs before the opposition had the opportunity.4 Since the Beaulieu family continued to be a major contact for the Red River traders, the HBC also attempted to secure their allegiance by hiring Francois pere etfils in 1863 to act as traders for the Bay. The Beaulieus held out for a time, but when their shipment of trade goods failed to arrive in 1866, they finally agreed to cooperate with the HBC.5 But while the HBC was able to drive individual traders out of business, it could never put an end to their presence entirely. Knowledge of the area's resources began to leak to the outside world, and Canadians, Americans, and British Columbians continued to be attracted to its potential. Life would never be the same for the Dene.
147 Trappers and Traders To the north, the HBC had also increased its pressure on the Russian trade. W.L. Hardisty planned a series of trading excursions to meet directly with the bands of the Lower Yukon River, who preferred to trade with the Russians rather than come to Fort Yukon themselves. Hardisty also hoped to trade directly with the partners of the Fort Yukon middlemen.6 Although these plans were never fulfilled, another trade incentive eventually proved more successful. "Hyaquois" (dentalium) shells from the Pacific coast were gathered for the Gwich'in trade in the hopes that the Gwich'in would gather more furs if the shells were available. 7 The Russians had been supplying large numbers of these shells to the Gwich'in, but ironically (as James Anderson had discovered in 1852), the Russians had been obtaining the shells from the HBC. "We have been furnishing our Russian Rivals with the very best article of Trade to oppose us," lamented Anderson.8 The shells were also profitable to the Gwich'in middlemen. In 1855 tnev purchased large ones from the HBC at a rate often per Made Beaver and sold them to "the distant Tribes" at six per Made Beaver. 9 The competition between the HBC and various other traders proved to benefit the Dene in a number of ways, sometimes even before any freetraders had actually reached a given district. As the HBC became more willing to extend credit in the interests of goodwill, the prices for furs and goods improved. The Dene were quick to take advantage of the relaxed credit system, accepting goods at one post in the fall and trading elsewhere in the spring to avoid payment. Finally, the HBC decided there were too many "large outstanding debts which they are not likely to pay," and an attempt was made to abolish the debt system (yet again) in 1865.10 Just as before, however, the Native traders objected and the HBC was forced once again to offer goods in advance. Without the credit system, the HBC could not secure the goodwill and allegiance of the Dene. The HBC was now also more anxious to meet demands for specific trade goods. When the Gwich'in at Fort Yukon objected to the "roll tobacco" offered by the post, HBC trader James MacDougall immediately ordered "leaf tobacco. The same people requested that the HBC provide arrowheads for their trade; MacDougall sent one of their stone points as a sample to the blacksmith at Fort Simpson so that he could make up similar iron ones.1' Where the desired goods were not available, the HBC noted that its trade had fallen off, as the Natives either went elsewhere or did not bother to trade at all. The Dene, being astute bargainers, realized the nature of the HBC'S situation. At Dunvegan in 1861, the area hunters held a long conference
148 Drum Songs
with the HBC trader, pointing out to him "that a marten is taken for a skin at Lesser Slave Lake and they wish the same to be done here ... why should there be such a difference at a post so close at hand where the Indian can go and trade as well as here time is of very little value to them and they have a right to trade wherever they can get the most for their furs." 12 Having traders come directly into their camp was also clearly an advantage for the Dene, eliminating the necessity of a trip to the post, which might be inconvenient and even hazardous for their families. Nevertheless, many people seemed willing to travel considerable distances to obtain better prices. During the winter of 1860—61, a number of Great Slave Lake people travelled to Fort Vermilion instead of trading at Big Island. Others decided to take advantage of the prices in a more permanent way, and a number of Liard people married into Fort Vermilion families in order to settle there permanently. '3 The freetraders also tended to provide a different sort of trade goods. Without the commodious York boats and large crews of the HBC, they could not manage to import bulky or heavy items and therefore carried lighter luxury goods on their inventories. These items quickly found favour with the Dene, "who have been gradually acquiring a desire for fineries and light fancy articles," as W.L. Hardisty reported in 1862. In particular, they wanted "Fine cloth Capots, L'Assomption Belts, Common Yacht Shirts, Double barreled Guns, [and] Printed Cottons," which the HBC had not carried in any quantity.' 4 Another change in the trade system that the Dene used to their advantage was the presence of missionaries in the districts. The HBC had expressed concern about mission trade from the beginning and had regularly sought assurances from the churches that they were not engaging in trade with their adherents. While the missionaries could state that they were not trading for economic gain, they nonetheless developed economic relations with the Dene because they were almost completely unable to support themselves. Each mission relied on meat and fish from area people to supplement the produce of their tiny gardens and erratic fisheries. Furthermore, in a cashless economy, the missions encouraged offerings of fur and goods in order to teach the Dene the importance of Christian giving and of local support for the church. The HBC saw these offerings and food deliveries in a rather different light, believing not only that the missions were siphoning off furs that would otherwise come to them, but that an alternative trade outlet gave the Dene the bargaining advantage and an opportunity to obtain trade goods without paying
149 Trappers and Traders their debts to the HBC. As John Reid complained in 1869, "These Indians are completely spoiled and are getting worse every year. Something must be done between the Fort and the Mission."15 The HBC was not alone in this interpretation of the Native trade at the missions. David Kirkby of the CMS was afraid that the Natives visited him only for the goods they might obtain, and did not seem to want to accept the fact that "our business with them is purely spiritual."16 W.D. Reeve also expressed concern that while the Dene were happy to barter skins and provisions, they were not "so willing to buy 'without money & without price' the 'wine & milk' of the Gospel."17 The HBC complaints were not entirely without foundation, for the amount of trade activity conducted by the missions was quite significant. John Reid, at the new HBC post of Providence, reported, "Some of the Roe Indians came in here to the Mission and the Priest sent out 3 sleds to their camps for Provisions - their men told me that they traded about 1400 Ibs Pounded Meat, & dry Meat and about 30 or 40 blethers of Grease, and some Tongues and Leather and Babiche; and I have heard they were giving goods for meat."18 While the increased activity of freetraders and missionaries provided new opportunities for those who wished to participate in the fur trade economy, the larger number of outsiders who had come into the Dene homeland carried several problems with them, the most devastating clearly being disease. Influenza, whooping cough, and measles had been constant dangers since first contact, but limited awareness of the daily lives of the Dene prevented EuroCanadian observers from noting the extent of their ravages. The first thoroughly documented epidemic was a horrifying scarlet fever that swept down the Mackenzie and out into the farthest campsites, killing hundreds of people in the mid-186os. Like earlier epidemics, it first affected the Plains nations, then spread north to the Cree.19 Although the northern nations heard of disease to the south and deliberately avoided contact, they were not long spared, and in the summer of 1865, scarlet fever reached the Athabasca District, probably imported by the boat crews. Two days after the arrival of the boat brigade at Fort Simpson in August, the first case was reported there. By November every band in the north had been infected, as James MacDougall reported from Fort Yukon: I am sorry to say [it has] carried off nearly half of them, and amongst those many of our best provision hunters. Among the Youcon and Blk River tribes alone upwards of sixty deaths have taken place, and by last accounts, there were many more who were not expected to recover. The disease has
150 Drum Songs no doubt spread amongst the Gens du Large and middle Indians as a few members of those two tribes, who were ill here returned amongst them some time ago.20
Even the non-Native HBC servants were afflicted, including W.L. Hardisty at Fort Simpson. Reports poured in throughout the winter as the death toll mounted. The residents of Peel River post were "in a most pitiful condition," with most of the best hunters dead and so many orphaned children that the survivors could scarcely manage to care for them. 21 Those who had survived the epidemic often fell victim to starvation or cold. The following year, W.L. Hardisty estimated that 1,000 people had died in the Mackenzie District alone, and he urged the HBC to send a doctor. "Let us however for mercy's sake endeavour to save the remnant of these poor people who survive," he begged.22 A Dr. McKay finally arrived in 1868 with a supply of vaccine, although he was a difficult and unreliable man whose presence in the district became more a cause for complaint than celebration.23 The missionaries, too, made a tremendous effort to combat the hidden enemy, but with their limited medical knowledge they could do little more than make their patients comfortable and encourage the survivors. As has already been noted, however, this medical work had unforeseen consequences. When a priest baptized a person who subsequently died, the family naturally concluded that the priest had uttered evil words over the patient and thus caused his or her death. Perhaps of greater assistance during the epidemic was the care the missionaries offered to orphan children. The Anglicans established an orphanage at Great Bear Lake in 1866; unfortunately it closed two years later following a scandal involving its director. It was the school and orphanage established by the Grey Nuns at Providence in 1867 that proved to be of longer-term benefit. Children were brought to Providence from across the north by survivors of the epidemic who were grateful for the opportunity to avoid the painful choice of infanticide. It seems that the Dene never really recovered from the scarlet fever devastation. While that disease soon disappeared, others quickly took its place among the weakened population. "MacKenzie's River appears to be getting less healthy than it used to be," reported W.L. Hardisty, who wondered if the climate was changing or if something had happened to the "constitution" of the Natives.24 Unnamed illnesses appeared throughout the district, killing adults as well as children. During the winter of 1868-69,anestimad250 people died in the district between Great Slave and Great Bear lakes,
151 Trappers and Traders and then in the autumn of 1872, an unnamed epidemic affected Athabasca, spreading into the Mackenzie in 1873. Again, dozens of deaths were reported to the HBC. Whooping cough followed, killing many children. It appears to have been particularly deadly among those orphans who had been left in the care of missionaries.25 Within ten years, observers were commenting on how greatly changed the once-proud people of the north had become. In 1877 Hardisty described the Trout Lake people as sadly reduced to a small band of "miserable wretches" who were "covered with scrofulous sores." He was perplexed by the change and wondered if it had been brought on by intermarriage,26 but clearly the problem had resulted from the devastation of disease. The HBC was even finding it difficult to hire men for the boat brigades, observing that the younger generation (as "offspring of sickly and diseased Parents") were not as strong or as physically large, and thus were incapable of heavy physical labour.2? A vicious cycle was under way, and people began to fear that the entire northwest would soon be depopulated. "The number of Indians is diminishing at a frightening rate," reported Father de Kerangue of Fort Liard in 1883. During the previous year, 39 of the 210 people who lived in the area had died, while there had been only five births.28 At Fort Simpson, Anglican missionary William Spendlove was equally distressed. "I visited all my camps & find in almost every camp either a sick or pitiful person," he recorded in his journal.29 Meanwhile, the Gwich'in were facing another challenge. The HBC post at Fort Yukon had been established in 1848 partly at the request of some Gwich'in traders who preferred not to travel to the Mackenzie River posts for their trade. The bands living in the immediate area of the new post had profited considerably by acting as middlemen over a wide area, but as a result there had been a great deal of tension as bands competed for trade advantages or good beaver hunting lands.30 In 1858 the bullying and arrogance of the HBC clerk in his dealings with the Gwich'in had made him so unpopular that they threatened to seize the post and kill the clerk.31 Constant feuding with the Inuit and with other Gwich'in bands had made the atmosphere less than peaceful for a number of years; hence, when rumours began to circulate regarding the American purchase of Russian territory, it is hardly surprising that both the HBC and the various nations were gravely concerned. In 1867 the Alaska Commercial Company purchased the stock of the old Russian American Company and moved quickly to establish a new trade. Area Natives watched the developments closely. In fact, the news of the sale of the Russian company first reached the HBC trader at Fort Yukon
152 Drum Songs
through a Native messenger. James MacDougall hastened to pass the word to district headquarters at Fort Simpson in October 1868. Several ships belonging to three American fur companies had apparently reached the mouth of the Yukon River in the spring; from there four river boats had been sent inland to occupy posts at Nulato, Frog River, and Gens des Buttes River for the winter. In 1869 American naval officer Charles Raymond was sent to Fort Yukon to determine whether it was located in British or American territory, and the HBC finally decided to move its establishment east to a site on the Porcupine River that it believed lay in British territory. Since MacDougall received his orders too late in the season to depart, the British and Americans shared accommodations at Fort Yukon during a long and anxious winter. The American traders refused to permit the HBC to trade any furs, and hence the English spent a good deal of time negotiating with the area Gwich'in to secure their allegiance and the prospects of future trade. The HBC succeeded in persuading one of the most prominent chiefs, Red Leggings of the Black River band, not to trade with the Americans. He in turn promised to attempt to convince the others to trade at LaPierre's House until such time as the HBC could re-establish a post for their exclusive use.32 Accordingly, in the fall of 1869, the HBC men moved to a site on the Upper Ramparts and the Black River people followed. MacDougall attributed their decision partly to his influence and partly to the fact that the American traders had nothing to offer but "gaudy gewgaws" that held no appeal for the Gwich'in. "They know how to choose good guns, axes & cloth much better than we do," noted MacDougall.33 In fact, the move did not proceed as smoothly as the HBC had hoped. The Black River people were soon complaining that they found the journey to the new post inconvenient. The post was actually situated on the borders of another group of Gwich'in who were not pleased with the Black River people's attempt to maintain their trade status with the HBC at the expense of their own position. There were other difficulties. A rumour circulated in 1872 that four Americans on a trade expedition had raped a Native woman; her family retaliated by killing three of the offenders, then called on their neighbours (whom the HBC referred to as the "Gens de Fou") to join them near Fort Yukon in case the Americans decided to take revenge in turn. Messengers were then sent throughout the Gwich'in territory requesting assistance.34 Meanwhile, the Americans were scrambling to get organized and their Yukon River posts were open only sporadically through the 18705. Nevertheless, it was the Gwich'in political agenda that ensured that the HBC trade did not continue as before.
153 Trappers and Traders By the end of the decade, two American companies had finally succeeded in establishing a trade along the Yukon. They hoped to attract the Gwich'in trade by bringing in better goods and offering higher prices for furs, but the American Commercial Fur Company scored its greatest success when it struck an agreement with Sahneuti, the renowned trade chief of the Kutcha-Kutchin. For at least two seasons he was actually in charge of the American company's business at Fort Yukon, 35 probably hoping to retain for his people the trade advantages they had enjoyed because of the proximity of the post to their own lands. "The old fellow has a good deal of influence among the Indians," reported Kenneth McDonald of the HBC post at Rampart House, "and may do more in withdrawing them from this place than any of his predecessors."^ Having lost the trade of the Yukon Flats people, the HBC watched its returns drop at Rampart House for a time. Somewhat to the surprise of the company, however, many of the people in the vicinity of the new post eventually returned to trade with the HBC in spite of, as the company's servants freely admitted, the "incomparably better trade" that could be obtained from the Americans. There were a number of complex reasons for the decision. First, the Gwich'in did not trust the Americans, partly because they were newcomers with no kinship or political ties with the Natives and partly because they had proven unable to maintain a regular trade at their posts. The HBC was fortunate to have in the district men like John Firth (who was married to a Gwich'in woman) and Kenneth McDonald (who also had Gwich'in relatives through the marriage of his brother, missionary Robert McDonald). Second, the Gwich'in were anxious to retain their access to English trade goods and may even have agreed to divide their trade between the Americans and the English in order to keep both in their country.^ Finally, the Gwich'in ties to the Anglican mission might have played a part. Robert McDonald had become an influential member of the community, and although he had been opposed by Roman Catholic missionaries in Alaska since the American purchase, the Gwich'in had shown little interest in the newcomers. Kenneth McDonald explained the Gwich'in reaction this way: "The more likely reason is that they are influenced by the Missionary to whom they belong. They take the missionary's side and as he is to their ideas a part of the H.B.Co. it is natural that they should keep faithful. They have an aversion to the R.C. priests and with them Yankee and Roman Catholic are synonymous terms."$s Meanwhile, whether the Dene knew it or not, another important change that had occurred far from their homeland was to have profound implications in both the short and long term. In 1863 owner-
154 Drum Songs
ship of the HBC had passed to a group of men who were interested as much in the potential of an agricultural west as they were in the northern fur trade. The company then proceeded to negotiate an arrangement with the Dominion of Canada whereby the HBC would give up its claim both to the land and to exclusive trade privileges in return for a cash payment and a considerable amount of land that would be disposed of as the company saw fit. The transaction was interrupted by the opposition of the settlers at Red River to the terms that affected them, but in 1870 the vast territory of northwest British North America passed into the hands of Canada. The transaction itself meant nothing at the time to the Dene, who were probably never even informed of it. And since the interests of Canadians lay primarily in the agricultural lands to the south, there seemed little likelihood at first that the change would really matter. There were to be important consequences even in the short term, however. Although competition in trade had always been a part of the economy, as has been described, the fact that the territory was now legally freed of any trade restriction did not go unnoticed among enterprising business people. Almost immediately, well-organized partnerships began to move into the Athabasca District. American traders Leroy McQueston and Alfred ("Ben") Mayo were among the first to appear, establishing a post near Hay River in 1870 and expanding to the junction of the Nelson and West Branch rivers the following year. The HBC quietly made a private arrangement with McQueston, offering to take over his trading outfit and furs at Hay River in return for "a similar amount in kind," which he could pick up at LaPierre's House and carry into Alaska for trade there. As W.L. Hardisty explained it, "I considered it better to close with him on these terms, than allow such a fine lot of Martens to be sent to Manitoba, where they would have excited the cupidity of others and induced them probably to come into McKenzies River also." McQueston put in an appearance at Fort Yukon in 1873, where he and his partners commenced a decade of trading and prospecting.39 A more serious opposition to the HBC was carried out from a base at Dunvegan. Although freetraders from British Columbia had constructed a small post there in 1863, the site had been abandoned in 1868. Then, in 1872, one of the partners of the firm returned to Dunvegan to recommence trading. H.F. ("Twelve Foot") Davis managed to talk HBC trader John MacAulay into renting him some abandoned HBC buildings for the following year at the nominal sum of $20, much to the disgust of MacAulay's superiors! Davis returned with his partner Bill Cust in the autumn of 1873 we^ prepared to do
155 Trappers and Traders business. "These people are exceedingly well supplied with necessaries for the Trade," observed the competition, for in their supply of food and luxury goods, "their aggregate stock is said to be fully equal that imported by the Company for the entire trade of Athabasca!"40 By undercutting HBC prices, they secured about $4,000 worth of furs in their first season and returned for a second year with considerably expanded plans. Davis remained at Dunvegan and sent his partners elsewhere - Joe Grey to Smoky River, Dan Carey to Battle River and Bill Gust to Vermilion.41 The HBC was further handicapped in meeting this competition because of an accident that had befallen a company supply boat on Cross Lake in August 1873, and the Athabasca District outfit was badly short that season. The enterprising team of Gust and Davis had soon built their own boat and attracted a considerable following of Natives, Metis, Saskatchewan "freemen," and at least one deserter from the HBC ranks. The Dene were quick to appreciate the changed situation, not only in the Peace River district, but throughout their lands. The independent traders came with supplies of food and luxury items that the Dene had not seen before, including sugar and considerable quantities of flour. The new supply coincided with a period of sporadic food shortages around Lake Athabasca and through the Liard country, so that it is hardly surprising that the Dene expressed an interest in these food supplies. They also began to pressure the HBC to supply new goods. "The demand for Tea, Sugar, Shirts, Prints, Flannels, Trap, Trousers, &c is largely on the increase throughout the District," wrote Roderick MacFarlane in i873- 42 At Fort Rae in 1875, the Natives placed an order for guns, traps, ammunition, and "5 1/2 chests of Tea 2 Kegs of sugar and one bag of Flour." As the HBC trader reported, "The[y] say that if the company wants us to hunt furs let them also give us what we want and the[y] will get every skin we can make, if not we know where to get it."43 In order to compete with the independent traders, the HBC adjusted prices at the Peace River posts, much to the delight of local Natives and much to the disgust of those who traded at more distant posts. News spread rapidly into the Mackenzie District, and W.L. Hardisty noted that his trade was declining. During the summer of 1874, the Trout Lake band sent in only 31 of the 500—600 marten they usually delivered. "Strong suspicions are entertained that they have kept back their Martens, in order to take them to Vermilion," complained Hardisty, "or until they can compel us to give them better prices for them."44 The HBC attempted in vain to maintain higher prices for trade goods throughout the north. Post managers
156 Drum Songs
were instructed to keep fur prices down as long as they possibly could and to refuse to offer credit to Natives from other posts. "Give them nothing in debt, no matter what promises they make," Hardisty wrote to John Reid at Fort Providence, "for depend upon it, their sole object is to get what they can of you and then to return to their own Post ... the difficulty will be to find out who they are, for they give different names at each Post."45 The Mackenzie bands were able to pressure the HBC further because the posts continued to rely on the provisions that they provided. As tension mounted at Fort Simpson, W.L. Hardisty prepared to hear that "the Indians would endeavour to starve out the place in order to compel us to concede the Vermilion Tariff."46 He attempted to put on a brave show by encouraging the man in charge of the post fishery to obtain a winter's supply of fish without Native assistance. When the plan failed, Hardisty predicted that "the Indians will boast that we could not live without them and be tenfold more difficult to manage than before."47 Years of good relations with the Simpson people were insufficient to compensate for the price differences, and Hardisty finally capitulated in 1875. The arrival of Americans at Fort Yukon and the "B.C." traders at Peace River had an impact throughout the Dene homeland. The introduction of new trade goods led to changes in the Dene material culture. People began to wear clothing of European manufacture during the summer and on visits to the posts. In part, the changes were a matter of taste and fashion; in part they were advantageous because purchased clothing lightened the burden of work for Dene women. In part, too, the change may have been encouraged by the apparent decline in the number of moose through the 18705. The leather trade at Fort Nelson failed entirely in 1875-76, and in 1878 Hardisty reported, "The Moose is certainly not extinct for this animal is increasing rapidly at those Posts where the Indians do not know how to hunt them ... but they have become very scarce in those parts of the country where they are the main staff of life."48 The importation of flour, sugar, and larger quantities of tea was another innovation of the post-1870 period. Dene demand for these items mushroomed rapidly, probably for reasons similar to those for the increased use of European clothing. Convenience, taste, and a shortage of game prompted an interest in new foodstuffs. Flour was incorporated particularly rapidly into food-preparation techniques, and many of the recipes (such as bannock) are now considered to be traditional foods. While people were anxious to obtain these goods, they were also concerned with obtaining the best bargain, and there was something
157 Trappers and Traders
of a return to the restless movement that had characterized the pre-iSai fur trade. The position of middleman became popular again. This trade sometimes took place well away from the sight of the HBC, but sometimes it was carried on more openly. Differences in the prices encouraged some of those who took up positions as middlemen. In the spring of 1874, for example, a man from Fort Resolution collected fur valued at 100 Made Beaver and took them to Athabasca, where he obtained a quantity of goods in trade and on credit. He then returned to the Resolution area to trade for himself, obtaining from his friends "their best and most valuable furs."49 One of the most successful trading families was that of Sahneuti, chief of the Kutcha-Kutchin. When Sahneuti allied himself with the Americans in Alaska, members of his family scattered among district bands to draw in their furs. One of his nephews appeared at Rampart House, where Kenneth McDonald attempted to elicit a guarantee from him that he would trade only with the HBC. McDonald recorded that "he promised faithfully to give me whatever he trapped or traded. Having thus put me off my guard, he traded on the sly, and with the furs he set off to the Youcon. On his return, when faced with his perfidy, he was in no wise abashed but seemed to think himself a pretty sharp fellow."5° As has been noted, people were also willing to travel to more distant posts to take advantage of the superior prices. When the HBC trader at the Natives' "home" post enquired why they had brought him nothing, he would often be given lengthy excuses, including the explanation that people were starving or unable "to do anything in the fur way." It is clear that the Dene did not wish to anger the HBC. They were well aware that independent traders could not be relied upon to come every year, so that in years when there was no alternative, they wanted to be able to return to the HBC to trade. It seems that the fur trade was no longer an optional alternative for most people; it had become an accepted and desirable part of the annual round. During the early 18705, another sort of population movement began that would also be of considerable significance to the Dene. To the south, a sudden smallpox epidemic in 1870 had swept through the camps of the Plains nations, with particularly devastating results among the Cree. The bison were disappearing, and the once-proud Cree negotiated a formal peace with the Blackfoot in the spring of 1871.5* Along the banks of the Saskatchewan River, people looked for new ways of surviving. Their attention was drawn to the Athabasca District, which was becoming known as "one of the richest Beaver producing fields in the World," as Roderick MacFar-
158 Drum Songs
lane put it. Groups of Indians and Metis began to make their way north, some merely to trap and trade for a season but others to settle permanently. "There can be no doubt that as Manitoba and Saskatchewan become settled up," wrote MacFarlane in 1874, "there will be an exodus of Indians and Freemen" to the Peace River country and beyond.52 His prediction was highly accurate. By the mid-i88os, Bishop Bompas could observe that "the original Beaver Indians on Peace River & Chipewyans of Athabasca River have nearly died out & have been replaced by Crees and half breeds from the Plains and Chipewyans from Athabasca Lake."53 While the HBC was pleased to observe the arrival of more fur hunters, the situation must have been noted with some uneasiness by the northern nations. After all, the Cree had been deadly enemies not so many years before and more competition for scarce food resources was scarcely desirable. Interestingly enough, however, the population movements of the 18705 and i88os were not accompanied by the warfare and open hostilities that had been a part of the earlier experiences. Rather, people seem to have chosen cooperation instead of conflict. Intermarriage provided the solution at one level, while large councils like the one held by the Beaver at Battle River in 1875 dealt with the issues in a collective way.54 Tensions were also resolved through spiritual means. At Fort Good Hope in 1878, for example, a Dene prophet proclaimed that a great flood would sweep away the trading post and mission there, destroying all the white man's buildings.55 The reasons for these noncombative solutions are not difficult to discover. Given the ravages of disease among the northern population, it is hardly surprising that people lacked the energy or the will for warfare. At this stage of Dene history, feuding would have been counterproductive. Nevertheless, it would be wrong to conclude that all the old animosities had disappeared. The Gwich'in and the Inuit were still cautious in their dealings with one another, and tensions still existed between the Dogrib and the Chipewyan along the borders of their territories at Great Slave Lake, a remnant of the old Dogrib-Yellowknife feud.56 For its part, the HBC was more concerned with responding to changing Dene demands regarding fur prices and trade goods. Importing more goods to meet increasing requirements seemed to be an impossibility, since the HBC could no longer obtain local Natives willing (or even able) to hire on with the boat brigades. Furthermore, the Metis boatmen were expensive because they all had large families whom they expected the HBC to support while the men were at work. The company was also finding its old transportation route
159 Trappers and Traders through the English River District too arduous for the larger shipments that were now required. The awkward route, "with its 46 Portages, its shallow streamlets, and its crowning obstruction of the height of land at Portage La Loche," had been tolerated beyond its years of usefulness because the HBC hoped that its difficulties would hinder access of freetraders to the district. 57 By the mid-i86os, it had become clear to the Council of the Northern Department that significant changes were needed if the HBC was not to lose its position in the fur trade of the northwest. Transportation improvements became the first priority. When W.L. Hardisty learned in 1867 that the Americans had plans to bring goods up the Yukon River by steamboat, he devised a similar proposal that would enable the HBC to supply its posts up the Mackenzie River via the Arctic Ocean. The HBC directors were dubious about the plan, but began to discuss the alternatives seriously. With a program under way to establish steamboats on the Saskatchewan River, it seemed sensible to consider the construction of a road overland to connect the Saskatchewan with the northern river routes. The company also investigated the possibility of building a road between Fort St John's and the Liard River to carry Mackenzie River goods in from British Columbia. While the plans were being discussed, the Oblate missionaries at Lac la Biche took the initiative and began to construct their own road intended to connect with the Athabasca River. Although the missionaries were unable to complete the project, the HBC, on investigation, decided to make use of the route itself. The next stage was to put a steamboat on the Athabasca River. At first, the company proposed to put a steel boat on the river by importing it from England in sections, but the plan proved unworkable when it was discovered that some of the sections weighed nearly 550 kilograms and could scarcely be carried on men's backs over the portages.58 Instead, the HBC had to be content with a wooden vessel, and in 1882 the company finally launched the steamer Grahame to run from the end of the cart-road at Fort McMurray to Smith's Landing on the Slave River. Three years later, a second steamer, named Wrigley, was launched to run from the Slave River all the way along the Mackenzie to the Delta. When the cart-road was extended to Fort Edmonton in 1886, the new network was finally in place. As the Canadian Pacific Railway CPR replaced the Saskatchewan steamers, the Dene homeland was linked to Canada in a way that it had not been since the days of the North West Company. Improved transportation meant cheaper and better trade goods, but it also provided easy
160 Drum Songs
access to the northern districts for anyone who could negotiate a passage on the boats, and demonstrated to others that such a transportation system was feasible. The transportation changes of the 18803 had an important unforeseen consequence for the Dene. While the new steamers brought flour and other foodstuffs in response to changing demand, the availability of imported food had a significant impact on the balance of power in the north. The fur traders now had no reason to depend on local food supplies; they no longer faced the options of relying on Native hunters and fishers or going hungry. Although the availability of food at the posts was undoubtedly a safety-valve for the Dene in times of game shortages, it also represented a fundamental change in their relations with the non-Natives. Because the Europeans and Canadians now controlled the emergency food supply, the Dene could no longer threaten to starve them out in order to gain the upper hand. In fact, it was now the Dene who found themselves turning to the Euro-Canadians when food was in short supply. A subtle and yet fundamentally important change had occurred; flour and steamboats had indeed proven to be a mixed blessing. The invisible legal strings that now tied the northwest to Canada were proving to be another mixed blessing, and the HBC northern officers were the first to complain about the situation. The company was now liable to pay Canadian import duties on goods brought into the north; in return it began to agitate for services like regular mail and a magistrate who could be used to enforce HBC regulations against unruly employees and opposition traders who caused problems.59 The northern missionaries added their own chorus of complaints. Bishop Bompas wanted government assistance for mission schools, laws to prevent Americans from providing liquor to the Dene and Inuit, and a public steamer service on the Mackenzie.60 The Canadian government was not in the least concerned with these letters of complaint. Its only gesture was the appointment in 1874 of Roderick MacFarlane at Fort Chipewyan and Julian (Onion) Camsell at Fort Simpson as justices of the peace, a practically meaningless position given northern circumstances at the time. It was a full seventeen years before the Canadian government took any real notice of the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts, and even then, that interest was expressed in a peculiar way. In 1887 the Canadian Senate struck a committee to gather information about the natural food resources of the west. The following year, on the urging of Senator John Christian Schultz, the Senate established a second committee to follow the work with an enquiry into the "pos-
161 Trappers and Traders sible commercial and agricultural value" of the Mackenzie Basin. Schultz had been an active promotor of Canadian settlement in the west, making a personal fortune from land speculation in the province of Manitoba. Doubtless he saw similar advantages for himself in encouraging the development of the north. The committee drew up lists of questions that were sent to HBC offices, clergy, businessmen, and even scientific men, a number of whom subsequently appeared before the committee in person. No aboriginal people were consulted. In fact, the committee's interest in the Dene was marginal at best. The senators knew almost nothing about the northern nations, and upon consulting the Indian Department, they discovered that the only information on hand in that branch was "a sort of estimate" regarding the population numbers that had been made eight years earlier by Bishop Bompas.61 One of the committee members toyed with the idea of sending two or three thousand Plains Natives into the north where they could pursue their hunting economy, but the idea was quickly dismissed by William Christie of the HBC, who pointed out that northern big-game resources were scarcely sufficient to support the current population.62 The idea of creating reserves for the northern nations was also discussed. Apparently, these reserves were to be set aside on lands that would permit a combination of agriculture, hunting, and fishing. The commissioners were not interested in the testimony of HBC officers regarding the limitations of northern agriculture. The Dene were also considered briefly as a potential labour force in the exploitation of the oil and mineral resources that intrigued the members of the committee. When William Christie also dismissed that idea, one of the committee members asked, "Are we to understand in considering the possible future of that country, that [the Natives] are not very much to be taken into account, except from a moral or religious point of view?"63 It was a prescient observation. The question of the welfare of the northern Natives was to become a major issue sooner than anyone had anticipated. While the HBC had provided assistance to the sick and destitute since the earliest days of the trade, the company took the position that when its charter rights were transferred to Canada in 1870, the Canadian government had taken on the responsibility for the social welfare of its citizens. The government was unwilling to accept that responsibility, arguing that until it had signed treaties with the nations of the northwest, it had no financial or legal obligations towards those people.64 Individual servants of the HBC also lobbied for change, arguing, "Whilst the Country belonged to the Company, and Customs' duties were unknown, it was certainly our duty to see that the Indian
162 Drum Songs
fared as well as was possible," but now that the company was "heavily taxed" and other traders shared the field, it was no longer appropriate to "burden" the company with the costs of assisting the sick and destitute.65 The clergy also lobbied for increased government attention to the situation of the Dene. Bishop Bompas proposed that the government appoint two "industrial agents" who would oversee the establishment of model farms on the Peace and Liard rivers, to set an example for the Natives and to provide a more regular food supply so that children could be gathered for schooling.66 Little came of these discussions until a crisis occurred in 1889. Ironically, just as the Senate Select Committee was releasing its report, in which the wealth of the Mackenzie Basin was described in glowing detail, the inhabitants of that same territory were dying of starvation. Game shortages, periodic famine, and an occasional unsuccessful hunt had long been a part of the Dene experience,67 but there is strong evidence that during the i88os the numbers of big game had declined below past limits. Several witnesses before the Senate committee observed that game was disappearing in the Athabasca District in particular; certainly the western Chipewyan could no longer turn to the bison as an alternative when their other hunts failed. During the winter of 1888-89, rabbits and caribou both were particularly scarce and weather conditions compounded the problem. With little snow on the ground, it was difficult to hunt moose, the one game animal that did appear to exist in reasonable numbers. Julian Camsell reported from Fort Simpson that in his fifty years of northern experience, he had never seen hardship so widespread throughout the district.68 Suffering was the greatest at Fort Wrigley, where ten people died and even the HBC servants were reduced to eating furs by spring.69 Bishop Bompas estimated that thirty people had died of starvation in the Mackenzie District as a whole,70 and reports of cannibalism came from as far south as the usually well-fed Peace River country. 7 ' With the HBC scarcely better supplied than the Dene and the prospects for the coming winter equally gloomy, it was clear that outside help was needed. The HBC and the missions renewed their pressure on Ottawa for help. This time a new tactic was used. The Anglican and Roman Catholic churches in Canada appealed to the public at large for help in a fund-raising campaign, an action that was probably also intended to embarrass the government into action. Edward H. Black of the Anglican school at Wrigley was sent to Winnipeg in the fall of 1889 where he spoke to the Daily Free Press about the crisis. The people of Manitoba were urged to donate through the church, and a sad pic-
163 Trappers and Traders ture of the terrible suffering of the northern Natives was painted.72 Similar items appeared in the Ottawa Citizen and the Toronto Maz'/.73 Shortly afterward, the Dominion government capitulated. A letter was sent to HBC Chief Commissioner Wrigley instructing the company to provide relief "in cases of extreme destitution, in which inevitable starvation would otherwise ensue," for which the government would reimburse the company. Wrigley instructed the district chief factor to keep quiet about this assistance, but the missionaries soon learned of it and demanded a share for their own distribution. Letters were then sent to Bishop Glut and Bishop Bompas authorizing the two missions in the Mackenzie District "to give orders to Indians on the Hudson's Bay Company posts" for ammunition and fish-net twine "to an amount not to exceed in all $500." The HBC in the Mackenzie District eventually received a sum of $1,500 in compensation for expenses incurred that year, 74 and a regular system of providing relief supplies through the HBC to treaty Indians throughout the northwest was instituted. The government was anxious that the HBC not consider the assistance that had been provided in the Mackenzie District to be a regular welfare program, for shortly after the payment was made, it informed the company that it would "not furnish any assistance to sick and destitute non-Treaty Indians in the North next winter."75 Unfortunately, the winter of 1889-90 was almost as difficult as the preceding one, with equivalent shortages of rabbits, caribou, and snow. The HBC persisted in its lobbying efforts, using a variety of arguments in letters and personal visits to members of the cabinet, including the prime minister. The question of the treaty appeared to be the government's major argument against providing assistance, but in reality the concern was primarily financial. Roderick MacFarlane addressed both concerns in a letter to Prime Minister J.J.C. Abbott: "It should be borne in mind that these aborigines having never come under treaty and being morally the owners of the country still, and having no voice in its present Government, should perhaps, not be subjected to any kind of taxation, unless indeed, its Rulers are willing to undertake to provide for their absolute wants in times of scarcity and great need." Instead of suggesting the expensive process of treaty making, however, MacFarlane proposed another solution, arguing that "it strikes me forcibly, that every useful purpose would be served by paying for the necessary relief of the sick, aged, destitute or starving among them, through the agents of the Hudson's Bay Company as occasion might demand." Not only would the government save money by eliminating the costs of long-term
164 Drum Songs
obligations inherent in the treaties, according to MacFarlane, it would pacify the Native people and eliminate the general dissatisfaction prevalent in the district.76 The issue of a treaty was, in fact, receiving considerable discussion among the Dene, as MacFarlane explained to Abbott. Just as the Plains nations had asked for an agreement with Canada during a period of economic hardship, so now the Dene began to consider a treaty as a possible solution. Worn down by twenty years of epidemics and famine and facing increasing competition for resources from non-Native trappers, they clearly realized that something had to be done. In December 1890, a Grand Council was convened at Buffalo Lake, to which Beaver, Slavey, Dogrib, Yellowknife, and others came.77 At least one band of Chipewyan had already signed a treaty: the families of Kin-oo-say-oo and Antoine Xavier at Fort Pitt in iSyG.'8 It is not known, however, whether their experience had been communicated to their northern relatives or even what issues were discussed at the 1890 Grand Council. And unlike the context of the Plains treaties, the government of Canada had no immediate incentive to act, believing the Dene lands to be of little economic value to the people of Canada. It seems, however, that members of the Department of Indian Affairs finally read a copy of Senator Schultz's Senate committee report, for on 7 January 1891 the superintendent-general delivered a report to the Privy Council claiming that a discovery of "immense quantities of petroleum" and deposits of sulphur and salt had been made in the Mackenzie District. While no such discovery had actually occurred, testimony about the Athabasca tar sands and Salt River deposits had been published in the Senate report and the Geological Survey had confirmed the existence of oil "in considerable quantities." The Department of Indian Affairs appears to have been convinced that development of these resources was imminent. Accordingly, the superintendent-general recommended that "a treaty or treaties" should be made with the Natives of these territories,79 and he informed the HBC commissioner that it was probable that a treaty would be made shortly with the northern Natives, although it would not include those living north of Fort Simpson.80 The Canadian government had noticed the Mackenzie Valley at last.
8 In Witness Whereof
Since its acquisition of the Hudson's Bay Company territories, the Canadian government had followed the practice of arranging treaties with the First Nations who inhabited those lands. Many of the aboriginal people of the plains saw these treaties as agreements to share the land and its resources in a peaceful way and hoped that the treaties would secure their future through guarantees of hunting and fishing rights as well as government assistance whenever these pursuits were no longer possible. The Canadian government interpreted the proceedings in a very different way. It considered the treaties to be agreements whereby the Natives gave up all claim to the lands that the crown required for purposes of non-Native settlement. And since there was little likelihood of any immediate need for the more northerly districts, the government treaty negotiations initially dealt with First Nations only in central Alberta and Saskatchewan, which led to the signing of Treaty 6 in 1876. As has been noted, a Chipewyan band that hunted in the vicinity of Cold Lake was included in those arrangements. Other Chipewyan bands north of the Treaty 6 area were also interested in a treaty and, through the i88os, made "repeated applications" to the government for similar consideration. They were concerned particularly with the decrease in game and fur-bearing animals but were also alarmed at the transportation improvements that were being made without consultation or prior agreement with them.1 The HBC supported these concerns, primarily because it hoped that a treaty would force the Canadian government to take over the provision of relief supplies to the sick
i66
Drum Songs
Maps Treaties and Registered Bands
167 In Witness Whereof
and destitute. Roderick MacFarlane was also concerned about future settlement in the Peace River country, and in 1884 he recommended that a treaty be signed with all the Natives between the boundary of Treaty 6 and Great Slave Lake.2 The government remained unmoved by all appeals until it received a series of reports in the mid-i88os regarding the resource potential of the Athabasca-Mackenzie districts. While the Native people, missionaries, and HBC servants had long known of the existence of the Athabasca tar sands and the Good Hope tar "springs," these resources were "discovered" for Canada by Robert Bell and R.G. McConnell of the Geological Survey and publicized through John Christian Schultz's Senate committee report. Discussions were begun regarding the construction of a railway and pipeline through the Athabasca District to the west coast.3 The Department of Indian Affairs responded to the news and finally decided to make arrangements for the required treaty, to be known as Treaty 8, as noted in the previous chapter. The process of deliberation took much longer than expected, however. Before Parliament had voted the money for the undertaking in 1891, Sir John A. Macdonald died. Several years of confusion within the Conservative party ranks followed, and in 1896 the Liberal party was elected to office. It almost seemed as if the entire matter had been forgotten. Then, in August 1896, two Tagish men, a Nova Scotian, and an American discovered gold in the Yukon district on an inconspicuous creek that fed the Klondike River. Once the news reached San Francisco, the entire North American continent became convulsed in an orgy of excitement. The Canadian government scrambled to take advantage of the situation and prevent American prospectors from removing all the benefits of Canadian resources to American soil. Among its programs was a plan to encourage the argonauts to travel through Canada to reach the goldfields. In January 1897 a NorthWest Mounted Police (NWMP) patrol under the supervision of Inspector A.M. Jarvis set out from Fort Saskatchewan for Fort Resolution via the Peace River, in part to investigate liquor sales and other minor matters, but primarily to assert Canada's claim to the territory and to report on the feasibility of "all Canadian" routes to the goldfields. In September of the same year, a second patrol under Inspector W.R. Routledge reached Fort Simpson. The prospectors were not far behind. According to an estimate by Kenneth Coates and William Morrison, some 1,500 prospectors entered or passed through the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts in attempts to reach the Klondike through Canadian territory.4
168 Drum Songs
The Department of the Interior was finally propelled into action and began in earnest to plan the treaty needed to obtain title to the northwest for the crown. When a member of the House of Commons rose to enquire about the government's policy on the matter in February 1898, he was informed by Clifford Sifton (minister of the interior) that "the question of the extinguishment of the Indian title in Athabasca and Mackenzie district is under consideration. So far as the Government is aware, there is no Indian title to be extinguished in the Yukon."5 In making arrangements for the treaty, the department relied to a considerable extent on information and advice provided by the Indian commissioner of the North-West Territories, A.E. Forget. He suggested that in the interests of speed and economy, the treaty should include only the valleys of the Peace, Athabasca, Nelson, and upper Liard rivers, extending no further than Fort Simpson on the Mackenzie. Other lands were "of no particular value," according to Forget, and the Natives there had contact with outsiders only rarely.6 Forget was replaced as Indian commissioner by David Laird in 1898, and Laird apparently considered that the treaty area did not have to extend even as far as Fort Simpson. Thus, when the treaty party finally set out in the spring of 1899, Clifford Sifton was explaining in the House of Commons that "the desire is that they shall go as far as Great Slave Lake, but it is impossible to form a positive opinion as to what ground they can cover. Their instructions are to go as far as possible and to accomplish as much as possible. Everything will depend on the facility they have in dealing with the Indians."7 During the summer of 1898, the government circulated notices through the NWMP and missionaries regarding times and places for treaty meetings to be held the following year. The news raised serious concerns among the Natives, who peppered the missionaries with questions about hunting and fishing rights, freedom of movement, and the establishment of reserves. Clearly, people were well aware of the precedents set in the prairie treaties. There was widespread opposition to the reserve system, and this was conveyed to the Department of the Interior through individual missionaries, the lieutenant-governor of the North-West Territories, and others. Faced with potential opposition to the proposed treaty, the minister (Clifford Sifton) decided to authorize the treaty commission to exercise a larger degree of discretion in negotiating the reserve question than had been the case for the earlier western treaties.8 The commissioners had decided to offer people a choice of taking reserve lands in common (that is, for the band) or in severally (that is, for individuals). The Metis were to be offered a choice of taking scrip (certifi-
169 In Witness Whereof
cates redeemable for land or cash) or signing the treaty as Indians. Other terms, however, were intended to follow the general outline of previous treaties. The same $5 per person annuity was to be offered, and no more than 160 acres of land per person was to be allotted, whether the lands were taken in severally or in common. The government treaty party consisted of James Ross (of the North-West Territories government), David Laird (treaty commissioner and lieutenant-governor of the NWT) and J.A.J. McKenna. They were accompanied by Father Albert Lacombe of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate mission in northern Alberta, H.B. Round of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a North-West Mounted Police escort. News of the party's itinerary had been spread throughout the district, and people assembled in large numbers in anticipation of the meetings. The first stop of the treaty commission was at Lesser Slave Lake, where the government feared that the Cree would attempt to drive a hard bargain. On the morning of 20 June, David Laird read the text of the treaty to a large assembly, then spoke at length on the government's intentions.9 Father Lacombe also addressed the council and recommended that they sign the treaty. The Cree were not prepared to accept the text as it stood, however, and a series of demands was made. In particular, there were concerns about the lack of guarantees for protecting their traditional economy. The Cree were also anxious to have protection from non-Native competitors. Once the chiefs had obtained promises that they would be permitted to hunt and fish as before, they agreed to sign, and the official ceremony took place on the following day. Payment of the treaty money was done on 22 June, the third day. 10 The other major question facing the government concerned the Metis. The treaty commission was accompanied by a "Half Breed Commission" that had been instructed to offer the Metis a choice of signing the treaty or taking scrip, but because of problems with unscrupulous speculators obtaining Metis scrip in previous treaty negotiations, the government had provided the commissioners with "non-transferable" scrip — that is, adults could not dispose of the certificates and children could not make use of them until they were of legal age. The Metis at Lesser Slave Lake refused to accept this scrip, however, and demanded that it be made out to "the bearer," partly so that they could use it on their children's behalf immediately and partly because they "counted upon turning it into money for investment in cattle," according to Father Lacombe. The commission decided to relent and altered the scrip certificates as the Metis wished.11 Furthermore, very few of the Metis at Lesser Slave Lake
170 Drum Songs
were interested in the land scrip. Of the 596 certificates issued there, only 33 were for land and the rest were for cash. 12 The precedents set by the Cree and Metis at Lesser Slave Lake were to form the basis for negotiations elsewhere throughout the treaty district. After the meeting at Lesser Slave Lake, the treaty commission was divided so that the process could be hastened somewhat. David Laird travelled to Peace River Landing, Vermilion, and Fond du Lac; McKenna and Ross travelled to Dunvegan, Fort Chipewyan, and Fort Smith; McKenna then went on to McMurray, and Ross to Wabasca. One of the largest gatherings of the summer took place at Fort Chipewyan. The previous summer, notice had been sent that the treaty commission would arrive on 8 July; hence, large numbers of people began to gather well in advance of that date. The HBC post officers distributed flour and bacon to those who were waiting. A good deal of eager anticipation turned to disappointment when the appointed day came and went. At last, James McKenna and J-H. Ross arrived on 13 July, and the council was convened in the afternoon. According to a diary probably kept by H.B. Round, about 120 men and boys assembled in the fort, with the Cree seated on one side and the Chipewyan on the other. Pierre Mercredi, a Metis, provided simultaneous translation for the Chipewyan, and George Drever of the HBC translated for the Cree. The discussions took about three hours, as the assembly had a number of questions for the commissioners as well as a list of demands that included guarantees of freedom to fish, hunt, and trap. Both Cree and Chipewyan were also insistent that they did not want to live on reserves like the Plains First Nations. When satisfactory answers were provided, the chiefs and headmen agreed to sign the treaty. Alexandre Laviolette signed as the Chipewyan chief, with Julian Ratfat and Seth Heezell as their headmen. Augustin Martin and Antoine Taccarroo signed for the Cree. Included in the treaty were 376 Chipewyan and 184 Cree. Afterward, the HBC provided two cows, some bacon, and some flour for a great feast. '3 The people reassembled on Friday, 14 July, to receive their treaty money, and in the afternoon the treaty party departed for Fort Smith. The Half Breed Commission did not reach Fort Chipewyan until 5 August, but by 11 August the Canadian government had concluded its work and considered its obligation at Fort Chipewyan to be complete. At some posts, negotiations proceeded more smoothly than at others, but everywhere people were concerned about the implications of signing the treaty. Were they to be guaranteed the right to hunt, fish, and trap as before? Were they to be forced onto reserves?
171
In Witness Whereof
Would the government prevent other white men from taking over their lands? There were other concerns as well. H.B. Round reported that at Red River Post the people were "not well disposed towards treaty" because their chief "says he had a vision from God & was told not to take the money." His band was afraid that if they accepted the government's money, they would all die. The treaty commissioner was unable to convince them otherwise, and in the end only three people agreed to sign.' 4 At other places, people expressed an interest in education for their children but made it clear that religious beliefs should not be tampered with. Some were opposed to taxation and military service, which they believed would become compulsory if they signed. People were also anxious for a supply of medical items. At Fort Chipewyan, Alexandre Laviolette asked that a railway be constructed to the post so that goods could be imported more cheaply.15 Because of the strength of the opposition to the creation of reserves, the treaty commissioners decided to leave the reserve question in abeyance. Although they duly reported that the Natives did not want reserves, the clause stipulating that they were to be created was left in the text of the treaty. The commissioners suggested that it had been impossible for them to allocate reserve lands because of time constraints, the extent of the country, and the fact that the Natives "were not prepared to make selections." While it would seem that they had abandoned the idea because of the strength of Native opposition to it, the commissioners had not really dropped the plan. "It will be quite time enough to do this as advancing settlement makes necessary the surveying of the land," they reported.'6 The following summer, a second treaty party, this time led by Commissioner J.A. Macrae, returned to the north to obtain the signatures of several bands whom the original party had not met. Gatherings took place at Fort Resolution, with bands assembling from along the south shore of Great Slave Lake, and at Fort St John. Unexpectedly, two bands from Sturgeon Lake (Cree) and Upper Hay River (Chipewyan) also appeared, and Macrae finally agreed to negotiate with them as well. Two "small provisional reserves" were designated at Lesser Slave Lake for a Cree band.'? According to evidence gathered later by Father Rene Fumoleau, there are several serious questions about the legitimacy of this adhesion to Treaty 8. He has argued that one set of "signatures" on the document are "patently forged" and that it is not clear that those who allegedly signed the treaty were even authorized by their people to do so. Because there is no existing written eyewitness account besides the official text of the treaty, it is not clear what promises the treaty
172
Drum Songs
commissioner believed he had made, but certainly the testimony of those who attended the negotiations suggests that promises guaranteeing hunting and fishing rights were made yet again and that there was some dispute about who was to stand as chief for the people.18 Scrip was distributed to the Metis at Fort Resolution as it had been elsewhere. There were problems and widespread dissatisfaction with the treaty arrangements almost immediately. The question of Metis eligibility for inclusion in the treaty persisted, and the Metis found allies among the Roman Catholic missionaries, who were concerned that many Metis would lose their ability to support themselves if they chose to take scrip and sell it. Bishop Grouard corresponded with the minister of the interior, urging him to ensure that the Metis who lived as Indians should be considered as Indians and kept within the treaty.19 Indeed, scrip buyers were active in the Athabasca District from a very early date. According to the Edmonton Bulletin, C. Alloway of Winnipeg actually followed the Half Breed Commission in the fall of 1899, paying $70 to $ 130 for scrip with a face value of $24o.20 The following year, several Metis from around Fort Chipewyan who had taken treaty money approached the HBC officer expressing their wish to "buy" themselves out of the treaty and take scrip. According to George Drever, "Two of our Engaged Servants, Janus Daniel and Napoleon Mercredi came to me and asked [me] to advance them the necessary amt to buy them out of Treaty and they would put their Scrip in Security. I paid for Daniel $120°° and for Mercredi $48°° for which when their scrip comes I shall repay myself. There are others here who have promised to pay some of their old debts should they receive their Scrip."21 There seems to have been a continuing market for scrip, for in 1901 Drever noted that Bill Ibbitson and Fred Maroney, "Scrip Buyers," had accompanied the party that had come to Fort Chipewyan with the annual treaty money. az The consequences of selling scrip were not immediately apparent, but as will be noted, many Athabasca District Metis would find themselves in severe economic difficulties in the 19305 and 19405, partly because of that loss of an economic lifeline. For those who had signed the treaty, the major point of dispute was continued access to hunting, fishing, and trapping territories. The Dene began to voice these concerns as soon as the first Indian agent was appointed for the district in 1901. H.A. Conroy was assigned to the post at Fort Chipewyan, where he was responsible primarily for the annual payments of treaty money. The bands who had signed Treaty 8 quickly realized that he would be useful as a
173 1° Witness Whereof
communicator of their grievances to Ottawa. When Conroy arrived at Fort Chipewyan, the area chiefs convened a meeting and held a "long talk" with him, the details of which have unfortunately not survived in the record.23 The chiefs pressed Conroy for several years on the subject of government promises to protect their hunting grounds from non-Native interlopers. Finally the government appeared to be responding. In 1906 an order-in-council was issued to regulate the hunting seasons, with the establishment of a closed season for beaver. Initially the Dene were pleased. However, they seem to have been unaware of the fact that the government intended these regulations to apply to all trappers, including Natives. The reality was made clear in 1913 when Chief Laviolette at Fort Chipewyan was arrested, convicted, and fined for hunting beaver out of season. To the Dene, such a restriction on their hunting was directly contrary to the guarantees that they had been given in the discussions about the treaty, and hence contrary to the major reason they had signed the treaty. Area Natives were outraged and Agent H.A. Conroy found himself faced with a barrage of questions and complaints.24 It was the first in what would be a long series of disputes over treaty rights and game laws. The people who had signed the treaty were also concerned about promises for medical care. While Treaty 8 does not contain a clause dealing with medical services, the commission itself reported that it had assured the Natives that the government would do what it could to assist them with such services. Accordingly, a medical officer accompanied the treaty party each year, but the assistance was minimal considering the continuing health problems ravaging the people of the district. Influenza and dysentery were widespread in 1900; George Drever believed that sixty people had died of these illnesses in the vicinity of Fort Chipewyan.25 The following year, the Roman Catholic mission at Providence reported an epidemic of a choleralike disease, and in 1902 measles once again swept through the area and down the Mackenzie, killing adults and children alike. It must have seemed that yet another promise was not being kept. The reserves question was not dealt with immediately either. It was not until 1913 that the government attempted any accurate survey of the Athabasca-Mackenzie, and even then the intent was not to determine sites for reserves as the term is understood today. The surveyors were instructed to mark lands at the settlements that Natives used for camping or permanent dwelling sites, just as they were to recognize lands used by non-Natives. Furthermore, the survey included settlements along the Mackenzie River outside the treaty
174
Drum Songs
area, with exactly the same instructions. The intention was to ensure that all residents had legally definable lots so that future conflicts with incoming settlers could be avoided; there was no intention to set aside large reserves where the Natives could hunt and fish without interference. The treaty Indians, understandably concerned about the intentions of the government surveyor, asked for an explanation of his presence. In some places, they refused to accept as theirs the lands the surveyor had marked out at the settlements, while in others, they refused to accept the validity of the entire survey.26 At Fort Smith, where a sizeable non-Native community was developing, there was a debate over how land already used by Natives was to be designated. The surveyors, through the Department of the Interior, asked Indian Affairs whether lots in the townsite held by treaty Natives should be allocated as "reserves" or granted to each head of family as property held in fee simple (inheritable, legal ownership). 27 This odd interpretation of the concept of "reserve" reflected a serious misunderstanding of the purpose of reserved lands. In many areas, the Dene refused to be forced onto reserves, but in one case, a band of Chipewyan took the initiative in trying to force the government's hand in allocating reserve lands. The people in the area around Fort Smith were among the first to face the reality of a rapidly increasing non-Native population competing for land and resources, and it is therefore not surprising that the band saw an advantage to be gained in having lands set aside for their exclusive use before it was too late. When the government treaty party arrived at Fort Smith in the summer of 1916, the chief and headmen of the Chipewyan band approached Treaty Paying Officer H.J. Bury and "expressed a strong wish to have Reserves located for them." He agreed to discuss the issue and returned in July to find that the Chipewyan had organized a "well attended meeting" to present him with three sites that they had selected. One was near Salt River, another was on both banks of the Slave River near Point de Gravois, and the third was at Pine Lake. The latter was an important fishing site.28 As agent Gerald Card reported, "The Indians seemed unanimous in their desire that a survey should be made next season."29 However, it would be another twenty-five years before the government agreed to recognize just one of these sites as a reserve, for reasons that will be discussed shortly. Needless to say, the question of reserves had quickly become highly problematic for the Dene who had signed Treaty 8. Meanwhile, in 1905, the provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan were created out of the "old" North-West Territories and the Canadian government were planning to negotiate another treaty with the
175 1° Witness Whereof
people in what is now northern Saskatchewan who had not been included in Treaty 8. James McKenna was once again selected as treaty commissioner, and during the summer of 1906, he travelled to the major posts of the district to explain the terms of Treaty 10 and obtain the necessary signatures. The process was similar to the earlier one. People again expressed their fears about hunting and fishing rights and again received assurances that there would be no interference with their way of life. The Metis were offered the option of taking treaty or scrip, and again scrip buyers seem to have obtained a great deal of it. The Cree and Chipewyan were persuaded to sign the treaty relatively quickly, as had been the case with Treaty 8, but once again, there were feelings of uneasiness and concern. People at Ile-a-la-Crosse reported to anthropologist Robert Jarvenpa some eighty years later: "Feelings of bitterness and cynicism touch their memories of this gathering where, in the view of some people, Roman Catholic priests and HBC translators alike encouraged them to sign treaty agreements before conditions were negotiated that were favourable for them. Factions that had been enemies a few years before were now acting in concert against the Chipewyan."30 Three years later, James Daligasse of the Churchill Chipewyan made an official request to the government that his people also be offered a treaty.31 A decision was made to bring these eastern bands into treaty through an adhesion to Treaty 5, which had been signed in 1875 with the First Nations who lived around lakes Manitoba and Winnipeg. Treaty Commissioner J. Semmens was confronted with the same concerns for hunting and fishing rights that had worried other Chipewyan bands. People were also concerned about the construction of a railway to Churchill; unlike the Fort Chipewyan people, they considered the railway to be a potential threat, for it would bring non-Natives into their country. Like many of the western Dene, however, they were also unwilling to be forced onto reserves. Commissioner Semmens assured the Churchill bands that they had nothing to fear. The Metis were offered scrip, but this time for distant lands in Saskatchewan and Alberta, a policy even Commissioner Semmens found peculiar, since the Churchill and York Factory M£tis clearly had no interest in such remote lands and thus were even more likely to sell their scrip. Scrip buyers were active in this district as well, even to the point of spreading rumours that people would be foolish to take treaty if they had any opportunity to prove their entitlement to scrip instead.32 By 1910, then, the Dene living south of Great Slave Lake and between the British Columbia border and Hudson Bay had signed treaties with the government of Canada
176
Drum Songs
and (whether they realized it or not) had, in the opinion of the Canadian government, given up their title to their lands. The more northerly bands still had no treaty, however, and concern was developing throughout the Mackenzie District about their welfare. The first decade of the twentieth century brought a series of game shortages, particularly in the Simpson-Liard areas, that forced people to turn to the HBC and independent traders for food. Indian Agent H.A. Conroy reported on the miserable conditions in that district in 1907, arguing that a treaty would be the wisest solution since it would be cheaper than relief payments.33 Conroy was also anxious for a treaty to protect the Canadian government's interests in the case of a large mineral discovery. Prospecting activity had been increasing steadily since the Klondike rush. In 1898—99 considerable excitement had been generated when it appeared that gold had been found at Great Slave Lake, and rumours were circulating throughout the district at the turn of the century that there was gold in the South Nahanni River Valley as well. Twenty-six men wintered at Fort Chipewyan in 1898-99 en route to the Great Slave Lake "goldfields,"34 and samples of gold-bearing quartz were taken out to Edmonton in igoi. 35 In 1909 Conroy noted that two large parties of prospectors had gone to Great Slave Lake, still searching for the elusive gold. Bishop Gabriel Breynat, expressing his own concerns about miners, urged the government to arrange a treaty with the Mackenzie nations.36 Most of the Dene bands were also anxious to reach some sort of agreement with the government. Conroy and several members of the Royal North-West Mounted Police (RNWMP) passed these messages along to their superiors. Rene Fumoleau, in his analysis of treaties 8 and 11, compiled a list of these reports, dating from 1902 to 1915 and coming from many of the upper Mackenzie posts.37 Most calls for treaty came from people who were experiencing considerable hardship because of the failure of the fisheries and rabbits. Others were concerned that some Natives had been given the opportunity to sign a treaty while they had not. The artificiality of the government's treaty district boundaries had not passed unnoticed. Nevertheless, it would be incorrect to assume that the call for a treaty was universal. For instance, Corporal Arthur H.L. Mellor reported that Norwegians, chief of the Simpson band, "asked me to tell the government that his Indians did not want treaty."38 Ottawa's initial response was to deny the necessity of a treaty. There were too few non-Natives in the north to pose an urgent need for a legal claim to the land, and the government was not prepared to come up with the money necessary for a treaty negotiation. In-
177 In Witness Whereof
stead, a decision was made to make a show of Canadian interest through the establishment of RNWMP posts and Indian agencies. The first police post was set up at Fort McPherson in 1903 in response to concerns about the activities of American whalers at Herschel Island. Shortly thereafter, a police expedition under the leadership of Superintendent Constantine was dispatched from Fort Saskatchewan to report on whaling and criminal activities in the north and to investigate possible sites for other police posts in the Mackenzie District. Constantine's report was decidedly negative with regard to the resource potential of the north but recommended that a series of small police posts be opened along the Mackenzie River, with a police steamboat to run between them.39 Police patrols continued to visit the major communities, but it was not until 1913 that permanent posts were established at Fort Simpson and Fort Resolution as part of "N" Division. The detachment at Fort Simpson consisted of one corporal, one constable, and one supernumerary constable. The police presence was clearly perceived as a mixed blessing by the Natives. On the one hand, the police proved to be helpful in administering relief money and supplies for the sick and destitute and they willingly responded to Native complaints about the use of poison bait by non-Native trappers.40 The latter practice was causing considerable concern to the Natives, whose dogs were being killed as they ingested strychnine-laced bait. Indeed, the police activities in these areas led to the popular perception among non-Native trappers that the police were actually present to protect the Natives rather than to assist other northerners. 41 On the other hand, the police were also instructed to enforce the game laws to which the Natives objected, and many of the constables had little understanding of the Natives and their concerns. What the police considered to be in the best interests of the Dene was not always accepted as such by the Dene themselves. One of the points of dispute was the question of forest fires. It had been a long-term custom in parts of what is now northern Alberta and extending down the Mackenzie for Natives to set bush fires deliberately.48 Since moose will come to feed on the young, tender shoots of new growth, a burned-over area could be a highly successful "moose pasture," facilitating access to a supply of food and raw materials for clothing and housing. Canadians as a whole, however, could see only potentially valuable timber going up in smoke. As early as 1908, reports of this burning custom had reached the superintendent of the Forestry Branch of the Department of the Interior, who contacted the RNWMP to enquire about police prevention of
178 Drum Songs
these fires. At first, the police commissioner responded that staffing was insufficient to permit the police to intervene.43 Nevertheless, instructions were soon given to the constables in the field to put a stop to this practice. The constables themselves were sceptical of the effect of their interference. As Corporal Arthur H. Mellor of the Fort Simpson detachment reported in 1909, "Between Providence and Simpson, on the Mackenzie river, huge forest fires were burning on both sides, mostly some distance inland. Some, and probably all, of these fires were set out deliberately by the Indians in order to make good moose country. There are, however, no justices of the peace in the country, so what can I do about it?"44 The potential for conflict had been established, however. Clearly, the police may have been assisting sick or destitute Native people, but when it came to a question of conflicting resource needs, the police presence was intended to protect the interests of Canada, not of the Dene. The police presence also brought a new form of conflict to the north. As representatives of the Canadian government, the police often found themselves in disagreement with both the Hudson's Bay Company and the northern missionaries. Since both traders and missionaries had few links to Canada, it is perhaps not surprising that there was some resentment of the police newcomers and that conflicting interests would soon become apparent. Inspector Charles Constantine of the Yukon complained constantly in his reports of the "arrogant Bishop" Bompas, whom he blamed for inciting the Natives to various undesirable activities. 45 One police file preserved in the National Archives contains a collection of newspaper clippings describing church activities in the north, on which a number of highly sarcastic comments have been pencilled by a disgruntled officer.46 In 1903 Inspector Constantine reported that the French tricolour was being flown at several of the OMI Mackenzie mission stations, and a campaign to enforce the flying of the Union Jack was launched, adding further to police-mission tensions. At one point, Bishop Breynat referred to the police involved as "certains fanatiques."4? The uneasy relations between police and missions had implications for the Dene because the missionaries had been attempting to champion Native interests. Individual constables could often find themselves siding against the Natives simply because of tensions with the priests. Nevertheless, not all relations with missionaries were negative. In 1901 Corporal J.R. Trotter married Miss Frances Warwick, sister of the Reverend A.J. Warwick, at Fort Chipewyan.48 Relations between the police and the HBC were not always cordial either. Personal animosities could easily flare during long winters of
179 In Witness Whereof
isolation, and some traders feared that the police would pry into their business affairs and spread rumours that might harm the trade. When George Drever at Fort Chipewyan learned that a police detachment was about to be set up at his post, he objected partly because he did not like the corporal who was to be posted there and partly because "I for one have no fancy for such as Corporal Trotter to publish around that the Coys people have nothing to eat but Fish & bacon."49 In the delicate balance of the trade, Drever was anxious to keep up a facade of strength and independence, realizing that more accurate knowledge would give the area Native bands a strengthened bargaining position. Ironically, although the HBC and the missions had long called for an assertion of Canadian authority in the north, when it did come, the outcome was not always what they had anticipated. Besides the creation of new RNWMP detachments in the areas beyond the boundaries of treaties 8 and 10, the Canadian government established Indian agencies at Fort Simpson and at Fort Smith in 1911. According to the Department of Indian Affairs, "It was deemed advisable to appoint local representatives of the department who could deal at first hand with the question of relief."50 The practice was derived from the system adapted for the prairie treaties, in which government agents were sent to teach the Natives how to farm and cope with the disappearance of their bison-hunting economy. In the north, however, the role of the Indian agents was less clearly defined. The government was unsure about the viability of farming, since mixed reports on that subject had been received over the years. Furthermore, the establishment of the agency at Fort Simpson was decidedly peculiar, since no treaty had been signed with area Natives. Nevertheless, on a July 1911 Gerald Card and a farming assistant arrived at the Forks with a portable sawmill, two horses, four oxen, and an enormous load of agricultural implements and other supplies.5' Card was also authorized to act as a magistrate, coroner, and mining recorder. According to Card's report, the Simpson people were highly suspicious of his presence, interpreting the agricultural implements as a signal that non-Native settlers were about to enter the district and take away their lands.52 Although the official reports do not reflect their discussions, it seems highly likely that the Simpson people renewed their requests for a treaty that would protect them against such an event and guarantee their rights to continue their hunting and fishing. Agent Card established a successful farming experiment and a small sawmill operation in an effort to provide a model of a more sedentary way of life for area Natives. Little interest was shown by the Dene, however. The demonstrations
180 Drum Songs
were not sufficient inducements to sway people who were entirely satisfied with their own way of life and saw little incentive to make changes. Another area of increasing government involvement in the north was in the field of education. Beginning in 1873, mission schools in areas of the west covered by treaties had begun to receive government financial assistance as part of the requirement in the prairie treaties for the provision of educational services. In 1879 Nicholas Flood Davin had prepared a report for the minister of the interior recommending that Canada should follow the American example and establish a system of "industrial" boarding schools in which Native children could be removed from the "influence of the wigwam" and "civilized" - in other words, assimilated into Canadian society. Davin recommended that "on the grounds of efficiency and economy," arrangements should be made with those mission schools that were already in existence. He also recommended that school attendance be made compulsory for all Native children.53 The first industrial school was opened at Battleford in 1883 under the auspices of the Anglican Church. There was no specific reference in Davin's report on northern schools, in part because the government had very little information on the subject, but primarily because there were no treaties that imposed government responsibilities for education. There were, in fact, already a number of very small mission schools scattered through the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts. Informal day schools had been conducted at most mission stations since the earliest days of mission work, but the first systematic program had been established by the Grey Nuns at Providence. Bishop Bompas of the Anglican mission had established the Irene Training School at Vermilion in 1880 with funds raised in Canada by his wife in Montreal and the Reverend Abraham Cowley in Winnipeg. The Anglican mission found its education work on a tenuous footing, however, because the Church Missionary Society would provide funding only for the training of Native clergy. Accordingly, Bishop Bompas was forced to solicit money from a variety of sources, including the Canadian government. Because there was as yet no treaty, the Dominion government was not enthusiastic about Bompas's requests, but finally in 1886 the government offered an annual grant of $400 to be divided between the Vermilion school and the mission school at Fort Chipewyan.54 Two years later, the government agreed to maintain the grant as long as the average daily attendance was more than ten pupils. When Bompas requested a subsidy for his mission's Mackenzie schools in 1889, however, he was turned down. 55
181 In Witness Whereof
Finally, in 1898, a major expansion of government funding for northern schools was introduced, possibly in anticipation of the signing of Treaty 8. Anglican day schools at Herschel Island, Fort McPherson, Fort Simpson, and Hay River were offered $200 per annum, as was the Roman Catholic day school at Providence.56 Boarding schools at Ile-a-la-Crosse, Vermilion, and Fort Chipewyan were also supported. This increasing involvement of the government in funding mission schools did not proceed without considerable comment and criticism from a number of sources. In 1892 William Ogilvie of the Dominion Land Survey complained to John Christian Schultz that the Roman Catholic missionaries were "Frenchifying" the northern Natives: "Now as a Canadian and a Briton I think they at least should teach English as well as French but, they don't... If they receive any aid for their schools and missions from this country it should be on the condition that they teach both languages."57 Other critics rejected the entire idea of a church-state partnership. Among them was member of Parliament Sam Hughes, who railed in the House of Commons in 1906 about organized "graft" by churches attempting to "rake off public funds.58 There was an ongoing dispute between the Department of Indian Affairs and the Roman Catholic Diocese of St. Albert over jurisdiction, authority, and financial responsibility; in 1890 Bishop Vital Grandin complained that "we are suffering persecution from agents and different employees inspired by religious fanaticism."59 Still others were critical of government support for day schools, considering them to be "of very little use" in the assimilationist program because attendance was sporadic.6" As a result of the mounting complaints and the increasing inability of Canadian churches to sustain funding for Native schools, a major revision of government policy was undertaken in 1910 in consultation with representatives from the Anglican, Roman Catholic, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches. Bishop Gabriel Breynat was a participant, although there was no Anglican representation from the north. Under the new system, Native boarding schools were divided into three geographical districts, with the largest per capita grant going to the northern schools, reflecting the higher costs of maintaining schools in the north. The government agreed to provide books and supplies as well as maintenance for all government buildings. In return, the school authorities would sign a contract making a series of guarantees. They were to limit the number of students in each residence in order to prevent overcrowding and disease, to provide medical examinations for all children, and to permit the government to regulate the teaching staff and minimum build-
182 Drum Songs
ing standards. The government also demanded for the first time a clear role in the determination of curriculum. Instead of the old mission emphasis on religion, the schools were now to offer an English education; to teach calesthenics, physical drill; fire drill; to teach the effects of alcoholic drinks and narcotics on the human system, and how lo live in a healthy manner; to instruct the older advanced pupils in the duties and privileges of British citizenship, explaining to them the fundamental principles of the Government of Canada, and to train them in such knowledge and appreciation of Canada as will inspire them with respect and affection for our country and its laws.6'
Only teachers who were fluent in English could be hired as permanent employees. No children over the age of eighteen were to be admitted to the schools, and Metis children could not attend unless space was available. Even then, the government would not provide grant money to support them. In the north, the Indian agents were appointed to inspect the schools and submit written reports annually. The government funding system had thus led to some important changes in northern schools. While they were once a vehicle for proselytization, the government now hoped to move them towards more openly assimilationist goals. The use of French and aboriginal languages was frowned upon and gradually started to disappear. Since more money was available for boarding schools, the smaller day schools began to close. Those parents who wished to educate their children faced the necessity of sending them farther away to the Providence, Chipewyan, Resolution, Vermilion, and Hay River boarding schools. Interestingly, enrolments at these institutions slowly increased, although in overall numbers, these schools remained relatively unpopular with parents. As late as 1918, there were only fifty-nine pupils at the Providence boarding school, for example, out of a potential regional population of almost 2,000. There were only seven children registered at the Roman Catholic day school at Fort Smith, even though the Native population at that settlement numbered over ago.62 The general ambivalence among Native parents towards the Canadian education system was common across Canada. While the value of reading and writing skills was recognized and such skills were actively sought, the openly assimilationist policy of the school system was unappealing. The result was limited participation. Indeed, many of the children registered at these boarding or residential schools during this period were either orphaned or from destitute families.
183 In Witness Whereof Table 8.1 Average Day School Attendance, Selected Day Schools, 1889-1935 Year
1889 1890 1893 1901 1918 1925 1927 1929 1931 1933 1935
Ft Smith
Ft Chipewyan
9 16
13 7 5 4 6 3 3 2
Ft Simpson (Anglican)
Ft Simpson (R.C.)
Ft McPherson
6 6 3
4 6 4a _ _ 8a
12 10 20 17
13 14 5
13 5 10 8a _ _ 7a
Source: Department of Indian Affairs, annual reports. a Seasonal school only.
Concerned that so few Native children were attending school, the government amended the Indian Act in 1920, making attendance compulsory for all Indian children between the ages of seven and fifteen. The Department of Indian Affairs undertook a major expansion of school facilities in the south to accommodate the increased enrolments, but in the north, there was very little impact. In areas where no treaty had yet been signed, the regulations probably could not be applied anyway. Attendance at the day schools was, in fact, declining throughout the north, while attendance at the boarding schools remained relatively consistent after 1918. (See Tables 8.1 and 8.a) Dene parents could see little value in the "industrial" training the government had to offer, and in 1926 Duncan Campbell Scott could report that "these Indians of the unsettled or sparsely settled regions are still... almost solely dependent upon hunting and trapping for their livelihood."63 It was not government education programs that would bring about major changes for the Dene in the years following the First World War. Just before the outbreak of the war, a flurry of activity had taken place north of Fort Norman where oily deposits on the surface seemed to indicate the presence of underground petroleum. Three leases were staked at the site in 1914; in 1918 these were acquired by Imperial Oil and active drilling commenced. Finally, on 25 August 1920, one of the wells released a significant column of oil and the excitement began. The superlatives that had once been reserved for
184 Drum Songs Table 8.2 Average Boarding School Attendance, 1887-1935 Year
Vermilion
1887 1889 1893 1901 1910 1918 1925 1927 1929 1931 1933 1935
11 13 14 9 26
Resolution
22 59 48 40 55 70 63 51
Hay River
24 41 34 55 38 28 14 34 42
Providence
District Total
21 65 59 57 43 44 54 62 55
11 13 14 54 154 152 160 121 127 138 159 148
Source: Department of Indian Affairs, annual reports.
gold discoveries were now applied by the newspapers across Canada to petroleum, and dozens of would-be oilmen were on their way north like the argonauts of twenty years earlier. This time, however, their passage was almost luxurious in comparison. One could travel by rail from Edmonton towards Athabasca Landing, although the line was not entirely completed until 1926. A road linked the end of the line to the river, where one could board a steamship of the Alberta and Arctic Transportation Company that would take a passenger from Fort McMurray to the oil field for $200 return. Admittedly, passengers had to disembark and walk around the various rapids, but when on board the steamers, they could dine (at $ i .00 per meal) or catch some sleep in the comfort of a berth ($ i .50 for a lower). One enterprising Edmonton firm even proposed to initiate regular dirigible service to Fort Norman. 64 More sober voices advised the government that the boom would inevitably be smaller than the boosters predicted. The major concern, of course, was the enormous cost of exploiting the oil field. Not only would expenses be high to construct the pumping stations required, but there was no way of transporting the oil to markets in the south. The deposits would have to be incredibly rich to warrant the construction of a railway or pipeline (or even barges) to bring the crude oil out to a refinery. Nevertheless, the government realized that it had to react both to control the staking of claims and to settle the question of Native land title. For the first time since the creation of his office in 1905, the commissioner of the Northwest Territories
185 In Witness Whereof
appointed four councillors and enacted the first ordinance intended to ensure that all persons entering the Territories were capable of supporting themselves. For its part, the Department of the Interior finally moved to negotiate a treaty with the First Nations of the Mackenzie Valley. Twenty years of Dene requests for a treaty could be ignored, but the discovery of petroleum resources could not. The new treaty, to be known as Treaty 11, was to follow the pattern set down in the previous numbered treaties. The Canadian government expected the Dene to agree to "cede, release, surrender and yield up" all claims to the lands of the Mackenzie Valley in return for the usual $5 per person annuity, reserve lands (640 acres per family of five), and payment of teachers' salaries. Tools were to be provided to those who wished to take up farming, but provision was also made for those who wished to continue hunting and fishing, with promises of annual grants for equipment like ammunition and twine for nets. As in the other numbered treaties, however, the government also included the statement that people were to be permitted to hunt, trap, and fish only so long as the lands were not required for other purposes, and always subject to any regulations that the government might see fit to introduce. In retrospect, it is curious how little public attention was given to the arrangements for Treaty 11. No discussion occurred at all in the House of Commons until the year after the treaty was signed, and then only a minor question was raised regarding whether expenses of $39,000 incurred by the treaty party should be charged to the Department of the Interior or the Council of the NWT. Rene Fumoleau has noted that the Edmonton Journal, normally quite interested in northern news, carried only three brief reports about the departure of the treaty commission from Edmonton.65 In the annual report of the deputy superintendent general for Indian Affairs, Duncan Campbell Scott had only two comments to make about the treaty. "New obligations and sources of expenditure arise as civilization forces its way into the wilderness," he noted, but he maintained a hope that not all of these expenses would fall upon the government. "It is anticipated that the discovery of oil at Fort Norman and the resultant increase in transportation and labour will improve the condition of the Indians all through this country."66 Even official reports on the process of the treaty commission seem to have vanished, as Fumoleau noted when he attempted to trace them through Indian Affairs and archives files.6? From the evidence that has survived, however, it would seem that Treaty 11 was negotiated in much the same way as treaties 8 and 10 had been. H.A. Conroy, who had been an Indian agent for Treaty
i86 Drum Songs 8 since 1901, was appointed treaty commissioner. Bishop Gabriel Breynat was invited to join the official party. Having learned from past experiences, however, Indian Affairs gave Conroy strict instructions that he was to make no "outside promises" to the Natives, and advised that the treaty was to consist solely of the written text with which he had been provided. It was clear that the government of Canada believed that there was nothing to be negotiated. Advance notice of the treaty commission's itinerary was circulated, and on 24 June 1921 Conroy arrived at Providence for the first meeting of the tour. He and Bishop Breynat met the Natives who had assembled, read the text of the treaty to them, answered their questions, and, within three days, obtained the agreement of the Providence bands. Two days later, the Trout Lake people arrived and also agreed to sign. According to the tesitmony of witnesses as published by Rene Fumoleau, the people were concerned primarily about their rights to hunt and fish, just as the Treaty 8 Natives had been. They did not want reservations like those that had been established for the Cree, and they agreed to sign the treaty only after receiving what they felt were assurances that there would be no interference with their hunting, fishing, and trapping.68 The treaty party met with other bands at Simpson, Wrigley, Norman, Good Hope, Arctic Red River, McPherson, and Rae before reaching Edmonton again on 11 September. According to Conroy's summary report, 1,915 people had accepted the treaty, including 7 chiefs and 12 headmen. Conroy had intended to visit Fort Liard but had found the season too advanced, and therefore plans were laid to return to that post the following year. Unfortunately, Conroy died in the spring of 1922, so T.W. Harris (the Indian agent at Fort Simpson) was authorized to negotiate the Liard adhesion. Everywhere the treaty commissioner visited, he heard the same concerns. People were afraid that their freedom to hunt and fish might be restricted or that they might be forced onto reserves if they signed the treaty. Conroy also reported that people asked for more medical services, schools for their children, and assistance for the elderly and poor.69 He did not elaborate further on their reasons for these particular requests, but they seem to have sprung from the desire to keep all options open. The people of the Mackenzie Valley wanted to continue to be able to hunt and fish, but they also wanted their children to learn more about the non-Native ways so that they could cope in a changing world. Reading, writing, and arithmetic skills were obviously valuable in the existing fur trade economy as well. Not all of these requests were included in the treaty text, and the government therefore did not consider them to be a necessary part of its obligations in the north.
187
In Witness Whereof
For the negotiation of Treaty 8, the government had appointed a separate "Half Breed Commission" to deal with the Metis claim; in the case of Treaty 11, Commissioner Conroy was authorized to act in that capacity as well. Conroy had been opposed to issuing land scrip, believing that the abuses that had occurred with Treaty 8 had arisen from the availability of land scrip and that in any case there was no suitable agricultural land in the Treaty 11 area. Accordingly, he offered the Metis an option to take treaty or to take money scrip. Parliamentary approval for the payments was delayed until 1924, however, so that in 1921 all Conroy could do was record who was entitled to receive the payments. The Metis received their shares of $240 each during the summer of 1924.7° The Canadian government was satisfied at that point that all aboriginal claims to the northern lands were now extinguished. The Dene interpretation of the treaties was clearly quite different. People believed that the treaties were expressions of goodwill whereby the government of Canada had promised that their economy would be protected against the pressures of outside settlers and trappers and that they would be assisted in times of hardship or sickness. The government had offered to establish reserves, but the Dene had rejected that proposal time and again. Furthermore, they do not appear to have realized that the text of the treaties stated unequivocally that "the said Indians do hereby cede, release, surrender and yield up ... all their rights, titles, and privileges whatsoever to the lands" described in each treaty. There is little doubt that the statements made by various treaty commissioners were either misleading or misunderstood, for the written text also stated that hunting and fishing would be permitted only so long as the land was not required "for settlement, mining, lumbering, trading, or other purposes." These fundamental differences of interpretation and misunderstanding became the basis for fifty years of disagreement between the Dene and the Canadian government and culminated in the Dene-Metis land claim of the 19705 and 19805. Father Rene Fumoleau has also suggested that there may have been outright fraud involved in the arrangements for treaties 8 and 11. Allegations have been made that no written text was ever presented at Fort Providence. When Joseph Norwegian at Fort Simpson refused to sign, another man, who was designated chief in his absence, did agree to sign. Julian Yendo of Fort Wrigley later stated that he never signed the treaty even though his name appears in syllabic characters on it, while at Fort Norman 136 people were not present when the treaty was signed but were paid annuities the following year as if they had been.7' It is also obvious that the Canadian government was not greatly concerned with fulfilling even the
i88 Drum Songs written promises of the treaties, particularly those regarding schools and medical care as well as the question of reserves. Perhaps in the long run, that failure to act has worked in the Dene's favour. While the Canadian government intended that the signing of Treaty 11 would make clear its authority over the lands of the NWT, Ottawa officials were also anxious to make clear their authority over the people of the Territories. Canadian law and social expectations were to replace Dene customs and traditions. The first assertion of this authority was timed to coincide with the signing of the treaty. Albert Lebeaux was charged with murder and tried and hanged at Providence at a time when people had gathered there to meet the treaty commission. The actual circumstances of the case made it particularly symbolic. Lebeaux and his wife had been childless for some time when she found herself pregnant. Her husband suspected that he was not the child's father and that it had been fathered by one of the priests at the mission. Believing that custom gave him the right to punish his wife, he had taken her life. The Canadian state did not accept those beliefs, so the presence of a foreign church and state in the Dene homelands was, for the first time, posing a direct challenge to Dene lives. The 19205 proved to be a decade of considerable challenge in other ways for the Native bands of the Athabasca and Mackenzie regions as well as for their relatives across the northern portions of the Prairie provinces. Most important among the changes was an influx of non-Native trappers who brought the first widespread and direct competition for the all-important fur and food resources that sustained the Dene economy. Transportation improvements following the First World War permitted easier access and coincided with a rise in fur prices. It was an irresistible combination for adventurous young men hoping to make their fortunes, then return home to southern communities. These newcomers posed a threat to the Dene not only because of their numbers, but also because of their attitudes and trapping techniques. Many observers commented on the differences between Native methods of harvesting furs and those of the newcomers. In Philip Godsell's words, The professional trapper does not make an occasional short trapping journey as does the Indian, then forget about his trap line for a while, neither does he "farm" his territory as was done by the Indians until just a few years ago. Instead he brings in a complete grub-stake from the "outside" in the fall... From the first snowfall until the ice breaks up he is tirelessly on the go, and in the course of a single season will accumulate three or four times as
189 In Witness Whereof much as an entire Indian family has been in the habit of taking out of the same territory over a period of years.7a
Since the purpose was to make a fortune and leave, there was little concern with the long-term productivity of the land. Many of the young newcomers knew little of bush survival skills or even proper trapping techniques. F.H. Kitto reported that "in their quest for sudden wealth they killed everything in sight" and in the process sometimes harmed those animals they did not take for the pelts.73 Many preferred the relatively easy method of setting out poisoned bait, a practice deplored by both the Dene and the HBC. Tensions were also generated when non-Native trappers unknowingly trespassed through Native trapping territories. When the Dene helped themselves to animals they believed were rightly theirs, the trappers cried foul and demanded that the Natives be charged with theft.74 Furthermore, the increased trapping production found a more convenient local market. In 1924 the Winnipeg Fur Auction Company purchased the assets of the financially troubled Northern Trading Company (formerly Hyslop and Nagle) and reorganized it as Northern Traders Limited, expanding from ten to twenty-five the posts in the Athabasca and Mackenzie districts. By 1929 the company's volume of trade in the north was very nearly equal to that of the Hudson's Bay Company.75 The HBC response followed patterns much like those that had developed through the nineteenth century in response to trade competition. The HBC equipped some of the independent traders in order to obtain their furs. Company employees were directed to prevent competitors from using HBC transportation facilities, and strangers were not permitted to establish residence at HBC posts. At some places, the HBC attempted to raise fur prices, thereby forcing smaller companies out of business, and in some cases, competing firms were simply bought out. As H.A. Innis described it, the Mackenzie River District had become the "front-line trench" in the "competitive struggle" for control of Canadian fur production.76 All the old players in the game, including the Dene, the HBC, and the missionaries, were dissatisfied with the situation for various reasons of their own, and they began lobbying the Canadian government to do something. The HBC wanted the government to regulate the practices of these newcomers and prevent a complete destruction of the fur resources. The missionaries wanted the government to protect the Natives from the alcohol, violence, and prostitution they associated with the newcomers. Above all, the Dene wanted the government to recognize that Native claims to the resources had first
igo Drum Songs
priority and that those rights had, they believed, been guaranteed in the treaties. They began to make persistent and consistent demands that the crown live up to the terms of the treaties and prevent nonNative newcomers from taking over their lands. In this campaign, they approached a variety of people who they hoped would press their case in Ottawa: Indian agents, RCMP constables, missionaries, and fur traders. The messages Ottawa actually heard from these sources were a rather distorted version of Dene demands. The Commission on Conservation took particular note of stories that heavy demands on the wildife population were threatening important species like the beaver, caribou, and wood bison. These reports coincided with a growing conservation movement in southern Canada and provided proponents like Dr Gordon Hewitt with ammunition for a bigger campaign to raise awareness about the limitations of natural resources in North America. On two occasions Hewitt submitted proposals to the Commission on Conservation regarding the regulation of hunting and trapping in the northwest; the newly formed Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection took up the cause in 1916 and succeeded in shepherding a new North West Game Act through Parliament in 1917. That same year, an agreement between Canada and the United States led to the passage of the Migratory Birds Convention Act. It was thus the actions of a southern lobby rather than Dene activism that led to the first governmental involvement in northern wildlife management. And because of that source, the legislation would prove to be highly problematic for the Dene. The North West Game Act prohibited the hunting of certain animals completely and set specific seasons for other species. Poisoned bait was prohibited, and licence fees were set for trappers. In a gesture to Native needs, the fee was waived for them. Amendments to the act and other regulations soon followed. In 1923 an order-incouncil increased licence fees substantially in an effort to discourage non-resident, non-British trappers, who were now required to pay an annual $150 fee as opposed to the $2 fee for a NWT resident's licence. British subjects who were non-residents were required to pay $75. Also in 1923, the government attempted to introduce a tax on furs in the NWT in order to generate revenue to pay for the administration of the new game laws, but the bill failed to pass through Parliament primarily because the government could not justify such a tax when none of the provinces was collecting an equivalent duty. Clearly there would be problems in areas along the sixtieth parallel where furs trapped in the NWT could easily be sold tax free inside provincial boundaries. In 1926—27 a system of licensing fur traders
igi
In Witness Whereof
was introduced to discourage transient traders by requiring that posts be kept open for eight months of the year and "outposts" for at least three months. The system was obviously intended to benefit the Native trappers by giving them a more reliable source of supplies, but it was also intended to benefit the big fur-trading companies (the HBC and Northern Traders). They had been complaining that Native trappers obtained goods on credit from them, then traded with transient traders who thus received furs that ought to have gone to the company that had loaned the trapper his outfit in the first place. As Minister Charles Stewart explained, the new regulations were intended to support the established credit system of the large companies.77 The fur trade was made subject to further regulation at the end of the decade when the idea of a fur export tax was revived and made law. By 1927 Alberta had introduced a fur tax but was having difficulty in collecting it, since a trader had only to claim that his furs came from the NWT to avoid paying. Under pressure from Alberta, the Canadian government levied a tax on any fur exported from the Territories. There was some opposition in Parliament on the grounds that the bill amounted to taxation without representation for the non-Native people of the NWT, but the bill passed easily and came into effect in May 1929 in spite of a "very largely signed petition" against the tax received by the government.78 Also in 1929, extensive amendments were made to the North West Game Act, including a series of closed seasons on beaver, muskrat, marten, moose, caribou, and a variety of other species. Thus, by the end of the decade, an extensive and complex system of game regulation had been implemented, at least in theory if not in practice. The Dene were by no means ignorant of these developments or passively accepting of them. Perhaps the most contentious situation developed over the herds of wood bison that roamed the lands west of the Slave River within territory covered by Treaty 8. In 1914 Maxwell Graham (then chief of the Animal Division of the Parks Branch of the Department of the Interior) became concerned upon hearing that these herds were diminishing, and collected reports on the situation from the mounted police, the Forestry Branch and American naturalist Ernest Thompson Seton. Armed with these reports, Graham proposed that the government create a Dominion park in the region to protect the remaining animals, since no hunting or trapping was permitted in Dominion parks. The Indian Affairs Branch asked treaty pay officer H.J. Bury to "sound out" the area Natives on the proposal and report on the extent to which it would interfere with their hunting territory.
iga
Drum Songs
Bury reported that the chief and headmen at Fort Smith "showed great hostility" to the idea. They pointed out that "from time immemorial" the area had been their hunting and trapping grounds. Furthermore, they argued, if they were forced to find new hunting grounds, they would endure great hardship for some time, since it would "take them a long time to become conversant with the haunts and habits of the game" in unknown lands. Bury then suggested that the park could provide an advantage because protected animal populations would inevitably increase and eventually there would be "a certain amount of overflow of game from the sanctuary." The chiefs then called a meeting to discuss the issue and eventually reported to Bury that they were willing to support the government in the creation of a park on the condition that "they should receive some compensation for being deprived of their hunting and trapping privileges" in the form of other lands set aside for their exclusive use.79 When Indian agent H.A. Conroy also communicated his concerns to the Indian Affairs Branch, the branch decided to officially object to the Parks Branch proposal on the grounds that "the tract of land in question is the special hunting ground of the Fort Smith Indians and if it is closed they will be compelled to hunt on the easterly side of the Slave River, which is the hunting ground of other bands of Indians." The Parks Branch was apparently somewhat taken aback by this position, but agreed to discuss the issue further with Conroy and Indian Affairs. Conroy put forward the obvious argument that without access to game and fur-bearing animals, the Natives would have no means of subsistence. Furthermore, if the wolf population in the area was not kept in check, it would "become a serious menace" to the game that the Natives relied upon for food.80 Because of the objections of Indian Affairs, which in turn were based largely on the objections of the Fort Smith band, the project was temporarily shelved, although in the meantime regulations against the killing of wood bison had been put in place. At first, the area bands seemed willing to accept their agent's argument that such measures were needed at least temporarily to permit the population to recover. But when in the summer of 1915 the government permitted a northern missionary to take some animals as specimens for museum purposes, the Natives were outraged at the double standard. When H.J. Bury arrived at Fort Smith to pay treaty annuities, he was challenged by the assembly to explain. "Considerable dissatisfaction was voiced by the chiefs of the Chipewyan, Caribou-Eater and Yellow-knife tribes," he noted in a report. "They claimed that
193 1° Witness Whereof
even though starving they were not permitted to kill one of these bison."8' The following summer, the Chipewyan at Fort Smith met to discuss the issue and, as was noted above, asked the treaty party to convey to Ottawa their wishes for three reserves, on the Salt River, on the Slave River, and at Pine Lake. The information was communicated to both Indian Affairs and the Dominion Parks Branch, raising alarm bells in the halls of the latter. The Parks Branch decided to send an inspector to see if any of these areas impinged on the proposed wood buffalo sanctuary, but no one was sent, apparently because of other war-related priorities.82 Nevertheless, the Department of the Interior officially stalled the designation of the reserves, informing Indian Affairs that "your application may conflict with the lands required for the Wood Bison area."83 After several years' delay, the park project was revived in earnest in Ottawa with a meeting of the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection in the spring of 1921. This time, for unknown reasons, the Indian Affairs Branch raised no objections. The Fort Smith Chipewyan clearly felt that their interests had been abandoned by the government. "The Indians in the northern section of the province and the tribes of the Territories are much wrought up over the current rumour that a game sanctuary is to be established," noted the Edmonton Bulletin in October 1922. "They feel that they are being pushed further back year by year by the encroaching whites, and would regard the formation of the buffalo reserve as one of the 'last straws.'"84 Nevertheless, on 18 December 1922, an order-in-council (PC 2498) created Wood Buffalo Park, and the following May a surveyor was sent into the Athabasca District to establish the park boundaries. As a concession to Native concerns, the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection agreed on 8 November 1923 to permit treaty Natives to hunt and trap within the park boundaries as long as they obeyed other game regulations, including the prohibition on buffalo hunting. While that concession defused hostility to the park among the Fort Smith Chipewyan, others remained anxious about potential limitations on their hunting grounds. In the spring of 1922, the presence of a large number of non-Native trappers around Lake Athabasca generated concerns among the bands who considered these lands to be theirs, and they made an application to Indian Affairs to establish "a reserve covering the delta country" at the mouths of the Athabasca and Peace rivers. The idea of Native hunting reserves was endorsed by Colonel J.K. Cornwall, head of Northern Traders, who
194 Drum Songs
also had obvious interests in maintaining the Native trapping economy.85 The Department of Indian Affairs concurred, and by an order-in-council (PC 1862) of 22 September 1923 a major experiment was initiated in the Northwest Territories. Large areas of land, to be known as the Peel River Preserve, the Yellowknife Preserve, the Thelon Preserve, and the Slave River Preserve, were set aside for exclusive Native hunting and trapping.86 Within their boundaries, the Dene would be guaranteed the right to hunt and trap. In return for this concession, however, the remainder of the fur-bearing resources of the Northwest Territories would be freed for more extensive exploitation by non-Native trappers. It was a unique experiment not tried anywhere else in Canada, and its institution was in no small way attributable to the activism of a number of the southern Dene bands who had pressed their concerns very effectively. They had succeeded in obtaining the kind of "reserved" land that First Nations elsewhere in Canada had attempted but failed to obtain. The preserve system proved to be a mixed blessing for the Dene. The concept was very popular at first, and a number of bands petitioned the government for additional preserves of their own. For example, in 1926 Chief Lamalice and the Hay River band asked for a preserve west of the Buffalo River between Great Slave Lake and the Alberta border.87 In 1927 the Slavey band at Fort Simpson requested their own hunting preserve along the Mackenzie River north to Wrigley.88 Unfortunately for these bands, the government's advisers in the Department of the Interior turned down these requests on the grounds that "there is now such a large area included in the preserves set aside that I doubt the wisdom of creating any more."89 Furthermore, within a very short period of time, the purpose of these preserves had become distorted in the minds of some non-Native northerners. As the district agent at Fort Smith reported in the summer of 1927, the local white men "all agree that the preserves should be created large enough to contain all of them [the Natives] in the hunting and trapping efforts and that they should not be allowed to hunt and trap elsewhere." In fact, the agent was already receiving complaints "that although many preserves have been created for them, few actually trap there but the majority of them encroach on the territory inhabited by white men."90 It was a fundamental misunderstanding that would create difficulties for the Dene in the next generation. At least the preserve system did serve its purpose of safe-guarding some hunting grounds for the Dene. Across the border in the Yukon Territory, no treaties were signed, the game preserve system was not attempted, and game regulations were introduced by the
1Q5
In Witness Whereof
Yukon territorial council with the intention that all should compete on an equal legal footing.91 In the Northwest Territories, there was at least a limited attempt to recognize the needs of the Dene. The government's motivation can scarcely be described as altruistic, however. Members of the Department of Indian Affairs discussed the problem of competition from non-Native trappers at considerable length and concluded, "If these Indians and others similarly situated are to be saved from privation and disease," they would either have to be moved to districts where an agricultural economy was feasible or else protected "in their aboriginal vocation" through the establishment of hunting preserves. A major concern of the Department of Indian Affairs had always been costs, and there were fears that if Dene access to fur and game was entirely restricted, the cost of social assistance would rise dramatically; hence a dual policy was developed in which people living "in the settled districts" were to be persuaded to give up hunting and trapping entirely, while those "in the remote districts" would be given special hunting privileges on game preserves - a solution that would also satisfy the demands of conservationists.92 The policy was perceived as the cheapest means of dealing with the Native people of the NWT. It is interesting to note, however, that the Dene of the southern districts had themselves played a key role in the establishment of these preserves. Through the 19208, the Dene also did not accept many of the increasingly complex game regulations. In certain specific areas, the Indian agents were able to make a case that temporary restrictions on killing certain species made sound sense. In these cases the Dene were willing to cooperate in observing the regulations. But a beaver shortage at Fort Smith did not necessarily mean a similar shortage at Good Hope, and territory-wide regulations reflected the ignorance of Ottawa policy makers more often that not. When the regulations seemed pointless or caused real hardship, people did not hesitate to voice their opposition. These complaints may be arranged in several general categories, but all were based on a consistent argument that would now be called an argument for aboriginal rights or treaty rights. Foremost among these complaints was that the boundaries imposed were artificial. The two main problem areas were the NWT/ Alberta border between Great Slave Lake and Lake Athabasca and the NWT/Yukon border west of Fort McPherson. For example, when O.S. Finnic of the Department of the Interior undertook an inspection tour of the Mackenzie District in 1929, Chief Julius of the Gwich'in at Fort McPherson asked for a formal meeting to raise the question of why his people were not allowed to hunt caribou in the
196 Drum Songs
Yukon as they "had always done" and why they were now required "to take out a non-resident hunting licence" for lands that had been "their ancestral hunting ground."93 A second category of complaint revolved around what appeared to the Dene to be unreasonable restrictions. In 1926 the North West Game Act was amended to prohibit "tripping," the practice by which traders travelled out to meet Native trappers at their bush or fish camps. The intention of the law was allegedly to prevent "unscrupulous" traders from getting furs that should have been going to the established traders who had provided the trappers with credit the previous season. Obviously, the law was a transparent device to protect the interests of the HBC and Northern Traders, and it clearly ran against the interests of Native traders, who preferred the convenience of avoiding lengthy trips to a trading post or who made use of the "trippers" to avoid repaying advances in the time-honoured tradition of manipulating the trade system. One complaint about the law came from Chief Drygeese of the Dogrib, reaching Ottawa via the RCMP. Chief Drygeese noted that his band trapped a great distance from the nearest post and explained that "often during winter when their dogs starve they are unable to come into the posts for supplies and, unless the post managers are allowed to bring supplies to them, they will suffer, perhaps, actual starvation." O.S. Finnie recognized a second, hidden problem here, noting that these people frequently acted as trade middlemen, obtaining profits in a trade that was now essentially declared illegal because it fell within the definition of tripping.94 Given the importance of middleman trade in the area, this new regulation was scarcely a minor matter. It implied the destruction of an important component in the economies of many bands. Other game regulations were opposed for even more pressing reasons. Regulations against March muskrat hunting were challenged by chiefs Julius and Johnny Kay at Fort McPherson on the grounds that no other food supply was available to them in that region during the difficult transitional season.95 Opposition to the game regulations could take a more angry turn than the polite complaints noted above. In the spring of 1920, a man at Fort Resolution was fined for shooting a duck out of season and by the time Philip Godsell of the HBC arrived, he found about a thousand area people camped at the post "in a most rebellious mood," determined not to accept their annual treaty money in protest. The fine, they argued, "was entirely contrary to their Treaty and if such was the white man's way of observing treaties they would have nothing to do with it." Indian agent Gerald Card negotiated with the bands for three days before finally convincing them to ac-
197 1° Witness Whereof
cept their annuities.96 In 1922 Chief Antoine at Fort Simpson declined to accept the treaty money because he had been promised "that whatever he asked for would be given him, and that this promise had not been kept." The following year, three Fort Simpson families again could not be persuaded to accept their annuities.97 Dene concerns about treaty obligations were not limited solely to issues of access to game and fish, although these matters were clearly paramount, as they were linked directly to people's survival. Medical care became the focus for complaint as well. Disease continued to be a major problem, particularly as contacts with non-Native outsiders increased. In 1921 a smallpox epidemic erupted in the Athabasca District.98 Ottawa responded by sending Dr George Ings, but his salary was suspended the following year after an RCMP enquiry. Although the Roman Catholic mission had opened hospitals at Fort Smith in 1914 and Fort Simpson in 1916, many people preferred to turn to traditional medicines and mistrusted the white man's hospitals, believing them to be places for the dying rather than places for medical treatment." Others considered medical assistance to have been a treaty guarantee; Chief Antoine at Fort Simpson, for example, threatened another treaty boycott in 1925 on the grounds that he had received none of the promised supplies for the sick and destitute. During the 19205, funds were allocated to equip three "field matrons" in the NWT with drugs and emergency medical supplies,100 but they can scarcely have been of much use in such a vast territory. The complete inadequacy of northern medical services was demonstrated tragically in 1928. A severe strain of influenza was imported to Fort Smith that spring and developed into a full-blown epidemic reminiscent of the disastrous scarlet fever epidemic of 1865. The spring boats carried the virus from post to post down the Mackenzie; both Natives and non-Natives were snared in the same trap of contagion. Those who seemed to recover from the influenza were often hit immediately by pneumonia. A six-week reign of terror was under way. By the time the news had been telegraphed to Ottawa in mid-July, some twenty-nine Dene and two Inuit were already dead. Natives who had come to the posts for Treaty Days fled back into the bush when they discovered the presence of the disease, but they only carried the contagion with them. At first, most of the deaths were among the elderly and a few children, although eventually others were affected. Several bands lost not only their elders, but also their chiefs and headmen. The Fort Rae people were particularly hard hit, with the loss of Chief Drygeese, his brother, and headman Johnny Benaya.101 Among the many tragedies was the story of Charles Goulet's band. While camped at Gros Cap on the eastern
198 Drum Songs
shore of Great Slave Lake, the Natives had been stricken by the disease and nearly the entire band was wiped out. Twenty-six people died; only two women, a man, and a ten-year-old girl survived. They carefully buried the dead, then left in a desperate dash for the Barren Grounds, hoping to escape the disease.102 Philip Godsell of the HBC estimated that 600 people died that summer along the Mackenzie, although official RCMP reports listed 265 and the Department of Indian Affairs reported 303, of which 268 were treaty Indians.103 Death rates ranged from a high of approximately 14 percent at Fort Simpson to a low of about 3 percent at Resolution and Fort Liard. The official figures may underestimate the true death rate, however, because they included only those known deaths in the immediate vicinity of the posts; others may have died in the bush camps and their deaths never recorded. One source estimated that up to one-quarter of the Native population died during those terrible weeks.104 The Indian agents were caught hopelessly unprepared. The Fort Smith doctor was away on leave of absence that spring, and the official departmental report claimed that a warehouse fire in Edmonton had destroyed the shipment of medical supplies intended that year for the north. The original correspondence suggests a different reason for the non-arrival of the medical supplies. Dr Bourget at Great Slave Lake complained that "as usual" his medical supplies had not been delivered on the first boat of the season as requested, but held back until the second trip in August, by which time it was too late. The liquor supplies for the non-Natives, Bourget noted sourly, had arrived promptly on the first boats though!105 The medical supplies that were already on hand for the two remaining doctors proved to be of little use. At Fort Simpson, in the absence of a doctor, the sisters of the Roman Catholic mission hospital did their best, while at Resolution, the doctor's wife set up a soup kitchen to feed the sick and their nurses. There were other heroes. Headman William Clow at Resolution was spared the disease; he "built alone day and night" twenty-five coffins in which to bury his friends. lo6 In some communities, it was reported, "there were not enough well persons to care for the sick or bury the dead." 107 The epidemic obviously had a profound effect on the survivors, both in the personal tragedies and in the loss to the wider community. Stories of the horror of that summer are still vividly retold today as people struggle to come to terms with the personal and collective devastation of their lives and their families. At Fort Resolution in the late 19705, older people told anthropologist David Smith that "the flu epidemic of 1928 was the greatest turning point in their
igg 1° Witness Whereof lives." With the deaths of many elders, crucial ties to the past and to community traditions were lost. Vital knowledge of bush skills and animal habits was also gone. People despaired of the bush life. "In the 'bush' there was little one could do but watch as one's children and other loved ones died," they told Smith. Life in the settlements with access to some support services, however limited, became increasingly attractive.lo8 Although the Department of Indian Affairs was well informed of the impact of the influenza epidemic, no significant improvements to health care delivery followed. In 1935 a new Indian agency was established at Fort Good Hope and the position of agent was filled by a man who was to act as a medical superintendent for the lower Mackenzie District. Shortly thereafter, another measles epidemic swept down the river with unusual rapidity, which the government attributed to the increasing use of air transport. '°9 The old patterns seemed destined to repeat themselves until people developed their own immunities. In many ways, then, the decade of the 19205 brought a variety of changes into the lives of the Dene. The impact of those rapid changes was mixed. In the short term, the 1929 Game Act might have been a real disaster. Coming as it did so soon after the influenza epidemic, the prohibition against, hunting beaver for three years was a serious problem. Following the protests of the RCMP, Bishop Breynat, and Indian agent Gerald Card, Ottawa relented and amended its previous regulations to permit treaty Indians and Metis "leading the life of Indians" to trap ten beaver each between November 1929 and March 1930. The period was later extended and the quota increased to fifteen.110 The Natives were required to take their pelts to designated centres where they would be given vouchers that could be redeemed for goods at any trading post. Oblate historian Rene Fumoleau reported that these vouchers were worth $25 and argued that because beaver pelts were worth $40 on the open market, the government was once again taking advantage of the Natives. l11 However, Canada Yearbook statistics indicate that beaver pelts ranged in average value from a low of $14.77 in 1930-31 to a high of $26.78 in 1927-28, and hence the price would seem to have been reasonably fair. Nevertheless, there were more fundamental issues at stake in these regulations. The Dene of the southern regions in particular recognized that point and strongly opposed limits to their hunting on the grounds that these were contrary to the guarantees that had been made in the treaty negotiations. They were often able to convince local Indian agents of this view but failed to convince officials
aoo Drum Songs
of the NWT and Yukon Branch. Ottawa administrators outside Indian Affairs had other priorities. Their concerns lay with protecting wildlife populations first and foremost. It would appear that O.S. Finnic of the NWT and Yukon Branch was finally convinced to read Treaty 8 in 1926, but of course the written text of the treaty served only to convince him of his department's right to make game regulations that applied equally to Natives and non-Natives. The real issue of differing interpretations of the entire treaty-making process was not seriously addressed in the 19205. The impact of the game laws and the Dene reaction to them seem to have varied regionally. Around the lower Mackenzie posts, it seems likely that many people were not even aware of them and local agents or police did not press the issue, recognizing the futility of enforcement among such a scattered population and the inappropriateness of the restrictions in areas as yet little affected by non-Native trapping competition. To the south, particularly around Great Slave Lake, the game regulations were more problematic for everyone. The authorities made sporadic attempts to enforce them, and there are surprisingly long lists of charges brought against hunters for infractions. However, the fact that the Great Slave Lake bands incurred so many repeat charges would seem to indicate that their response was generally to ignore the law and to continue to hunt on traditional territories as before. 112 Indeed, there was mixed understanding of the regulations among those who were responsible for administering them. In 1928 Inspector J.F. Moran concluded that every RCMP detachment was interpreting the regulations differently, 113 and there was also a difference of opinion between officials in Ottawa and their representatives in the north. One report to O.S. Finnic of the Department of the Interior accused Indian agent Gerald Card of interpreting the regulations too loosely and permitting Natives to take game out of season; Indian agent and justice of the peace T.W. Harris was also accused of erring on the side of generosity in dealing with infractions of the game laws.114 The result was that the regulations were more of a nuisance to the Dene in the 19205 than a real burden. Nevertheless, the legislation and some of the administrative structure had been put in place, and that would prove to be a very real problem in the years after the Second World War. The first thirty years of the twentieth century were years of enormous change for the Dene. The Canadian government replaced the Hudson's Bay Company as the actual and symbolic non-Native power in the north. Through the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Indian agents, the Dominion of Canada laid claim to the
201
In Witness Whereof
natural resources of the Dene homeland and offered $5 per adult per year and an annual medical visit as payment. While the great rush of Canadian entrepreneurs, trappers, and settlers did not materialize as anticipated in those heady years o£. gold and oil dreams, the legal and administrative structure had been put in place to accommodate the immigrants, and it was that structure that would have important implications for the Dene in years to come. Furthermore, although the Dene were not facing direct competition for their land from agricultural immigration as had occurred on the Canadian plains, an equally insidious threat to their economy had been put in place through the arrival of non-Native trappers and the introduction of game laws. For the first time, a direct conflict over resource use was occurring. While the competition of non-Native trappers may not have been sufficient by itself to threaten the Dene economy, the combination of competition and restricted access to the resource base was very clearly a major problem. Southern ideas about conservation sometimes conflicted directly with Dene ideas about game management and sometimes even conflicted with Dene access to food resources. The Dene were acutely aware of the problem and fell back on the promises they believed to have been made in the treaties as a means to call for a reassessment of government policy. Their ability to marshal a campaign against Canadian policy seems all the more remarkable in light of the devastating internal problems they were facing. The epidemics of the 19205 destroyed families, cut children off from their own past, and threatened to break the hopes of adults for the future. In a population that was just beginning to recover from the illnesses of the late nineteenth century, the new blows must have seemed doubly cruel.
9 Canada and the Dene Nation: Economics
If the 19205 brought tragedy and. uncertainty to the Dene, the 19308 and 19405 brought little relief. Falling fur prices, game shortages, and new diseases undermined people's ability to support themselves on the land, and financial pressures on the government undermined its ability to help people when help was most needed. A series of important mineral discoveries prompted the development of the technological and social infrastructures required to support large-scale mining activity, but few benefits from these changes accrued to the Dene. The 19305 and 19405 saw the development of two northern solitudes: two independent economies, two very different societies, and a significant power imbalance. Discouraged and yet determined to preserve what they could, the Dene took advantage of what was available. Airplanes and radios reunited separated families, while government social programs subsidized trapping. Ironically, the failure of the government to honour the terms of its treaties with the Dene would prove to be something of a blessing. Not having been forced onto reserves, the Dene were able to maintain an evolving economy that supported their spiritual links with the land and enabled them to preserve much of what was important to them. In many ways, the annual round for the years following the signing of the last treaty would have been quite familiar to the great grandparents of the postwar generation. After spring breakup, people congregated at traditional fishing sites where they established themselves for the summer and from which they would make an excursion to the nearest trading post to bring in the produce of their
203
Economics
winter hunts. Most of this trade continued to be an exchange of furs for goods, although people demanded a wider range of items than had once been the case. Ready-made men's clothing and fabrics for making women's clothing in Euro-Canadian styles were very much in vogue; silk scarves, rings, and gold jewellery were popular with the women. Sewing machines were owned by many families. Flour and tea were more likely to be purchased than they had been a generation before, but the demand for such items remained sufficiently limited that not all traders stocked them. 1 Lightweight .22 calibre rifles had become popular, and to a considerable extent, hunting with guns had replaced snaring game of all sizes. Heavier shotguns, of course, continued to be important. People also came into the posts a few weeks after the early spring visit for Treaty Days, which quickly had become a major social event as well as an opportunity to discuss issues of political concern. The distribution of treaty money was followed by another visit to the traders; most people chose to spend their cash immediately, while the traders competed aggressively with one another over who could take in the greater part of the treaty money. 2 While cash was gradually working its way into the northern economy, the Dene continued to consider the new trade commodities and cash as an adjunct to their usual activities rather than as an integrated and necessary part of the annual round. As late as 1950, the superintendent of the Fort Resolution Indian Agency reported that, even in this southern district, "the Indians, for the most part, are hunters first and trappers secondly. They depend on game for their food and any fur that is caught during the winter is a bonus that they do not consider as part of their living."3 It is hardly surprising that people spent the proceeds on what some non-Natives considered to be unnecessary items or trinkets. The extra proceeds from trapping were spent on luxuries and treats. After the trading post visits, people then turned to the summer fish camps where they enjoyed the opportunity to meet with one another, tell stories, hold dances, sing, and play games of skill and gambling. Food was plentiful, and surplus fish was carefully dried for winter use. Towards the beginning of August, the berry-picking season began, and women gathered and processed considerable amounts. Some berries were packed into baskets, covered with moss, and buried in caches; others were dried and stored, while still others were boiled and packed into containers that were sealed with a layer of grease.4 As the evenings began to cool, families packed their belongings and headed out to their individual hunting grounds for the fall hunt. The Christmas/New Year's holiday provided an opportu-
304 Drum Songs
nity to regroup at the trading post, where furs were brought to trade and people were given a warm welcome by the traders and missionaries. One trader recalled that if he went out to visit people's camps in November, they would give him only muskrat because they wanted to save their more valuable furs for the Christmas season.5 It became a common practice to pay the debts incurred in the fall during this December visit. People then returned to their winter camps until spring breakup. Part of the winter was devoted to trapping furs, but an equally important activity continued to be the manufacture of dried meat to carry people over the difficult spring thaw period, when travel by land or water was almost impossible and hunting was frequently difficult. Even during the 19305, some bands still did not maintain very regular contact with the posts. A band known as the Caribou-Eater Chipewyan, for instance, preferred to come only once a year (much as they had in the nineteenth century). They adjusted the timing of these visits to coincide with Treaty Days at the beginning of July, but otherwise traded only for limited amounts of ammunition, tea, and tobacco before returning to their lands. In other bands, the women and children would remain in the bush for the entire winter, although the men made periodic visits to the posts. Some of their children might never see a non-Native person until they were teenagers.6 Wage employment was almost nonexistent, and agricultural pursuits held no attraction. A few men worked as pilots and deckhands on the river steamers during the summer months, but most people preferred the life of relative ease at the fish camps. The Indian agents at Simpson and Resolution attempted to encourage people to grow potatoes and raise poultry but found that interest in these pursuits quickly dwindled.7 Such efforts must have seemed ludicrous when wild plant foods were easily harvested and did not require constant attention, while chicken meat or fresh eggs had their own equivalent in country foods with superior flavour. In other ways, however, life was indeed changing. Some of the old skills, like basket weaving and snowshoe making, were becoming scarce arts practised only by the elderly.8 Outboard motors ("kickers") were an immediate success even though they were expensive to purchase, fuel, and maintain. At Fort Resolution, for example, people registered with the Indian agency owned twenty-six motorized boats in 1926; just three years later the number had more than doubled to sixty-one.9 Motorboats and outboards attached to canoes not only cut down on travel times and reduced the human effort required, they also enabled trappers to "play the field" in seeking the
205
Economics
best prices for their furs. As HBC trader Philip Godsell observed sourly, people were now "roaming around with canoes and 'kickers' from post to post in search of some new trader who could easily be fleeced."10 Increased mobility during the 19205, in fact, appears to have checked temporarily the tendency towards smaller band territories. Other important changes involving new technologies were beginning to be felt in the north during the 19205. The first wireless stations were set up by members of the Royal Canadian Corps of Signals at Fort Simpson (1924), Fort Resolution (1927), and Fort Norman (1930). Not only could messages be transmitted between the district and the outside world, but the radio permitted faster communications among the Mackenzie settlements. For the most part, these first stations served to gather weather information and to transmit business messages. Stations were soon established at a number of other posts throughout the north. Of even greater significance, of course, was the introduction of aviation. During the First World War, Deputy Minister of Mines and Resources Charles Camsell (son of HBC chief factor Julian Camsell) had proposed that airplanes might be used to transport geologists to otherwise inaccessible sites, while their aerial survey potential had also been noted.11 Nonetheless, it was a series of private initiatives that brought the first planes to the western NWT. In 1920 Imperial Oil, anxious to improve communications with its northern exploration crews, hired W.R. May and George W. Gorman of Edmonton to organize a northern flight system. A hangar and living quarters were built at Peace River, and two aircraft were purchased. Northern Traders apparently considered a similar project, but it was never attempted.12 On the occasion of the first flight to Fort Norman in 1921, pilots E.G. Fullerton and George Gorman carried passenger Sergeant Hubert Thorne of the RCMP, destined for Fort Simpson. It was the beginning of important police use of aircraft for their northern work. Individual prospectors as well as corporate mining interests found that the idea of using airplanes for prospecting held considerable appeal, and a number of flights followed with pilots like C.H. "Punch" Dickins and Stan McMillan, who became Canadian folk heroes. Historian Morris Zaslow is largely correct in observing that aviation was responsible for "introducing the mining industry with its attendant effects into the Territories."13 In 1931 pilot W. Leigh Brintnell resigned from Canadian Airways Limited to form his own company, Mackenzie Air Service Limited, which began regular flight services along the Mackenzie the following year. Regular airmail delivery also became an important part of the tasks car-
ao6 Drum Songs
ried out by this first generation of legendary bush pilots.' 4 While southern Canadians watched these developments with considerable admiration and enthusiasm, the Dene were almost completely excluded. It was not long before non-Native trappers seized upon the idea of using aviation to facilitate their work, and it was this use of modern technology that first alarmed the Dene and brought at least one community to protest. During the winter of 1935—36, non-Native trapper George Dalzell brought in a plane to help him trap in the Fort Simpson area, and rumours began to circulate that other trappers in Edmonton were learning to fly for the same purpose. The Fort Simpson bands complained to their agent, who shared their concerns and passed them on to his superior who in turn sent the message to Ottawa: This man sets [his traps] around the different lakes on the leads or creeks that run into them, and they have noticed him make as many as 15 landings in one day. They believe that if he is allowed to continue in this manner, and others do the same thing, the game will be exterminated in that country before very long ... The whole thing is causing a great deal of worry to the Indians ... They pointed out that they might be heading for a certain lake in the fall, at a distance of many miles from the river ... only to find that when they got there this man was occupying the ground. As the Indians expressed it: "If there was a man with a dogtrain ahead of us, we would know by the tracks that someone has gone in."' 5
The cost of trapping by plane was obviously far beyond the reach of Native trappers, who had access to very little cash, and the Dene quickly recognized the threat that this hunting method posed to animal populations in general and their trapping grounds in particular. Thus, while the introduction of aviation technology was hailed by non-Natives in the north, it generated well-founded concerns among the Natives. It would be another generation before the Dene would be able to incorporate aviation into their own hunting economy. The old system of trade in the north was also beginning to break down. During the igaos and 19305, relations with the Hudson's Bay Company deteriorated as a result of a combination of factors. At the beginning of the First World War, the company had decided not to extend credit because of the decline in fur prices in Europe; this policy was resented by the Dene just as they had resented the attempts to eliminate the credit system in the nineteenth century. And, just as they had done those earlier days, many Dene simply abandoned trapping. Agent J.P. Harvey at Fort Norman reported, "As the Indi-
2oy Economics
ans cannot get credit, they have decided to fish and hunt meat and let any fur they may get be incidental." Indeed, he reflected, "I cannot help but think that the decision of most of the Indians to hunt meat is a kind of passive protest against the traders."'6 Independent traders in the igaos took full advantage of the HBC policy, and there is some indication that the tactic was successful. As freetrader Peter Baker reported, a trapper at Fort Smith brought him a large quantity of fur with the explanation "You have helped me by giving me credit, so I brought my furs to you."' 7 Relations with the HBC deteriorated for other reasons as well. The tactics of trade competition led to the larger companies being far more generous to potential customers. "Northern Traders go to awful expense in connection with the natives," reported R.G.H. Bonnycastle at Arctic Red River in 1928. "At Easter they had the house full of them; some stayed for a week and were fed on canned meats."18 According to oral tradition, people began to feel that the HBC had cheated them when they saw the apparent generosity of the new traders.' 9 Furthermore, the new generation of HBC personnel was unfamiliar with the old trade techniques, while new management viewed the enterprise as any other business endeavour, failing to recognize the importance of accommodating their business culture to meet Dene expectations. Social attitudes of the new generation of managers were very different from the old. When a company inspection party toured the post at Arctic Red River in 1928, its members were appalled at the fact that the post manager had married a Native woman, and roundly reprimanded him "for not teaching the Indians respect." It seems the hapless manager was guilty of allowing local people to enter his house without knocking and dien to sit down to smoke!ao At Fort McPherson, people would trade only part of their furs with the HBC manager. The rest they took to John Firth, now an elderly man "retired" from HBC service but still held in high esteem among his friends and family. "They declare they will continue trading with him until he dies," reported the official post manager.21 The Dene made plain their displeasure with the HBC in silent ways (such as simply trading with others) as well as in more open and aggressive challenges. When a party of HBC officials arrived at Fort Good Hope in 1920, they were met by one of the area chiefs who wasted no words in explaining his people's grievances. He concluded his remarks by pointing to the steamer docked nearby and saying that the whites were far too proud and that the first white men who came down that river had done so in leaky bark canoes and had begged the
ao8 Drum Songs Indians for dry-meat and guides. "Now [he said]. Where did you get it? From the profit you made out of buying the Indians' furs so cheap. Now the Company is rich and their traders are proud, but it was done with the Indians' money, and that ship, by rights, belongs to us." 22
The old system of offering "gratuities" was revived in some areas as a means to encourage the trappers to bring in their furs, and just as they had in the nineteenth century, the Dene used these gifts as bargaining points. Philip Godsell reported that people would "hold back their furs to see which trader would give them the biggest 'gratuity' in order to obtain their skins" and thereby obtain "thousands of dollars' worth" of goods. Gifts would also be demanded by chiefs in return for bringing members of their bands to a particular trader.23 All of this activity began to collapse in the 19308 as the trading companies felt the impact of the Depression. Fur prices dropped, the HBC reduced its representation in the north, many small trade partnerships were dissolved, and even Northern Traders eventually found the situation untenable. In 1939 its stock was purchased by the HBC and the third era of trade competition in the north was brought to an end. For their part, the Natives were encountering a double hardship because the game cycles seem to have reached particularly low points during those hard years.24 In addition, disease rates were reaching horrifying proportions. Between 1937 and 1941, tuberculosis was found among the Mackenzie District Indians at a rate fourteen times that of the national average and pneumonia at a rate of more than double the average.1^ It is scarcely surprising that when an Edmonton doctor visited the NWT in 1934, he reported that he could not find "a single physically sound individual" and that the Native people seemed "doomed to extinction."26 In a population already badly weakened by the terrible influenza epidemic of 1928, tuberculosis quickly found a niche. The timing was tragic, for the Canadian government, hard-pressed to deal with the crisis of the Depression, was in the process of drastically reducing its budget for Indian health services. Money would be available only for "acute sickness"; long-term care for chronic conditions like tuberculosis was eliminated entirely in 1937-27 In the face of the obvious suffering throughout the north, many concerned individuals rose to champion the Dene cause with the people and government of Canada. Among the most persistent and effective was Bishop Gabriel Breynat. In a tireless campaign of letter writing and direct lobbying, he attempted to attract attention to
aog
Economics
problems in the north and to gain public support for government intervention. One proposal that he argued with the support of Indian agent T. W. Harris and Ralph Parsons of the HBC was the idea of reserving all hunting and trapping rights in the NWT solely for Native peoples. In 1932 the NWT Council initiated discussion of the proposal by conducting an opinion survey of the non-Native population. Rene Fumoleau has argued, however, that these discussions were no more than "political posturing."28 Not surprisingly, the non-Native trappers of the Territories were outraged and quickly informed Ottawa of their concerns. A petition drawn up by twentythree trappers in the Fort Simpson area complained bitterly of trapping advantages already enjoyed by the Dene (and allegedly the Metis). The trappers took the opportunity to voice demands of their own, including a request that the export tax on fur be reduced to 5 percent and that an end be made to the high licence fees for nonresidents. They claimed that Natives were given the privilege of hunting out of season and demanded equal consideration.29 There was also little sympathy for the Dene in the offices of the Department of the Interior or around the table of the NWT Council. When the question of extending the northern game preserves was raised in the course of these discussions, Charles Camsell made his views abundantly clear, stating that the long-term goal was "to encourage the opening up of these regions to the people of Canada generally" rather than to reserve more lands for the Natives. The game preserves existed "to meet the pressing needs of the natives, but no more," he explained, and should "not include country capable of being opened to the whites" for farming or mining purposes.30 The Dene did not rely solely on the goodwill of people like Bishop Breynat, however, and devised their own strategies to draw attention to their problems. They continued to rail against the various game regulations and the government's failure to honour the treaty promises that the Dene consistently claimed had been made in 1899 and 1921. A group of northern Alberta Natives who had not been included in Treaty 8 organized themselves into a group called L'Association des Metis d'Alberta et des Territoires du Nord-Ouest and petitioned the NWT Council in 1934 for permission to hunt and trap in the NWT. They were turned down on the grounds that they "could obtain treaty if they wanted it."3' At Fond du Lac in the spring of 1937, when the Natives were asked to purchase licences to trap beaver, the chief instigated a sort of strike, refusing with the men in his band to pay and demanding that Ottawa step in to protect their treaty rights. 3a At Fort Resolution later that summer, the bands organized a boycott of treaty payments. 33 Arguing that too
2io Drum Songs many restrictions on their hunting rights had been introduced, including a ban on using snares, the chiefs demanded an opportunity to meet the governor general as the crown's representative. Their list of grievances included concerns about education, medical services, and the district Indian agent. According to the Oblate priest at Fort Resolution, the Natives wanted an English-speaking, Protestant agent to replace the current man, since the French or Roman Catholic agents seemed unable to obtain any help for them from the government. 34 Although the Resolution people finally agreed to accept the treaty money on condition that their grievances would be considered, the boycott ultimately succeeded only in obtaining a new agent for Fort Resolution. At Fort Simpson during the winter of 1937—38, the Slavey objected yet again to limits on beaver takes but argued by way of compromise that perhaps they might be allowed to take thirty each instead of fifteen, since "there is practically nothing but beavers to be had now for food and fur" in the region.35 The Dene living south of the sixtieth parallel in the provincial north were finding themselves in an equally difficult position. In 1930 the Dominion government finally agreed to turn control of crown lands and natural resources over to the Prairie provinces, and legislation came into effect regarding the transfer of jurisdiction. A clause in the Natural Resources Transfer Agreement stated that the government of Canada agreed to recognize provincial game laws as applying to Natives provided that the Natives continued to have the right to hunt, trap, and fish on unoccupied crown land or on other lands to which they might have a "right of access." While the Dene believed that Treaty 8 had guaranteed them protection against restricted access to hunting and fishing, the governments of the country and the provinces had made their position clear in this legislation. Provincial game laws were to apply, and the long list of prosecutions for infractions at places like Fort Chipewyan demonstrates conclusively that the police were enforcing those laws. The only concession was introduced in 1935, when the Alberta government responded to concerns for Native welfare by creating a special hunting zone between the Saskatchewan border and the Athabasca River north of the twenty-seventh base line.36 Meanwhile, another method of limiting access to fur-bearing animals had been introduced in British Columbia. The first trapline registration program was established there in 1926; discussions of its applicability in the NWT soon followed. However, both the NWT Council and Charles Camsell in Ottawa were ambivalent about any program that would tend to allocate a significant amount of northern land for exclusive Native use. Camsell did not support policies
211
Economics
that might discourage non-Native trappers either, since he believed that "if we are going to develop any of the mineral resources of the country we must allow the prospector the opportunity of making some kind of living in the winter."37 Political scientist Peter Clancy has suggested that the Department of Indian Affairs was concerned about the possibility that trapline registration programs were inconsistent with resource-use guarantees made in the treaties.38 The trapline registration idea was dropped, at least for the time being. In 1938 the Canadian government finally conceded that something more had to be done to assist the Dene in the Northwest Territories, and on May 3, an order-in-council created the Mackenzie Mountains Game Preserve, which comprised an area of 180,000 square kilometres. A few months later, a second order-in-council prohibited the use of aircraft for trapping activities inside the boundaries of the preserve.39 The primary purpose of the new preserve seems to have followed that of the 1929 Game Act in that only Native hunters and the few non-Natives who were already trapping in the area could have continued access to the fur resources. For many officials, however, the preserve system continued to be seen primarily as a conservation measure, and conflicting opinions on priorities ensured that the system would continue to be fraught with problems. In the meantime, a series of other changes had been set in motion by forces beyond the boundaries of the Dene homeland. In 1930 Gilbert La Bine and his partner discovered deposits of silver and pitchblende just east of Great Bear Lake; within a few years, he and his brother Charles had developed their claims into a lucrative silver and radium mining operation. A small community was built at Port Radium, where the ore was mined and concentrated before being shipped to Port Hope, Ontario, for further processing. Then, in 1933, gold was discovered near the north arm of Great Slave Lake, and within five years the first gold brick was poured at the Con Mine. These two major discoveries prompted a flurry of related activity. Imperial Oil reopened its facilities at Norman Wells in 1932 to supply the needs at Port Radium. A winter road was opened to permit travel from the end of the railway at Peace River all the way to Yellowknife. A hydroelectric plant was built on the Yellowknife River to generate power for the gold mines and the booming little community springing up nearby. The slow river steamers were replaced by small but powerful diesel tugs that guided trains of barges carrying heavy equipment, food, petroleum products, and ore up and down the Mackenzie. There was an explosion in aviation activity as well. The colourful pilot-adventurers of the 19208 were largely
812
Drum Songs
replaced by Canadian Airways and Mackenzie Air Services, with regularly scheduled flights for passengers, mail, and other cargo. By 1939 Yellowknife had been incorporated as a municipality and over 300 men were employed at the mines there. According to the 1941 census, the non-Native population of the NWT had mushroomed to almost 20 percent of the total. Three years later, the non-Native population received an additional boost with new gold discoveries in the Yellowknife area. A new townsite was selected and more permanent buildings erected. The territorial council, which had never been particularly active, was roused from its stupor and began to meet regularly to discuss the needs of this booming economy. Canadians as a whole were also alerted, and Alberta and British Columbia both began campaigns to annex large portions of the Mackenzie District to their jurisdictions.40 Studies and surveys were conducted everywhere, from traverse runs of the Geological Survey of Canada to the tour of a representative of the Experimental Farm in Ottawa, who travelled the Liard River from Fort Nelson to Fort Simpson in 1944, taking soil samples and making botanical observations along the way. There were discussions of plans for roads and massive dredging of the Athabasca River to improve transportation access. When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the United States was brought into the war and the Canadian northwest became a vitally important strategic zone for the Americans. The construction of the Alaska Highway and the Canol pipeline was begun almost immediately, bringing thousands of American troops into the north.4' All of the decisions behind this activity were being made completely independently of the Dene. Labour for the various projects was recruited from the non-Native workforce to the south, decisions about policy were made on the basis of wartime needs rather than Dene interests, and disruptions to wildlife and people alike were considered to be of minor consequence when weighed against the national war effort and economic development. Perhaps fortunately for the Dene, military activity in the NWT did not prove as disruptive as it was for the Yukon First Nations. The construction of the Alaska Highway was a much larger undertaking than the construction of the Canol pipeline and road, and Yukon people had more direct contact with the military personnel. The epidemics that followed in Yukon do not seem to have had a parallel in the NWT. Nevertheless, the wartime activity had other short- and long-term effects for the Dene.
213
Economics
The Dene themselves watched the changes warily. They seemed to be willing to share the land and its resources as long as the newcomers did not interfere with their livelihood. However, they complained regularly to their agents and the RCMP about mining company employees trespassing for the purposes of trapping on their hunting grounds. The bands in the vicinity of Yellowknife were particularly concerned; here Chief Crapaud raised an even more fundamental issue in a meeting he and a delegation of his people organized with agent M. Meikle. Chief Crapaud's band objected to the staking of mineral claims because it was being done within their game preserve. Meikle reported to the NWT Council that the chief "thought that all Indians should benefit in some way from the mining industry within the Preserves," and proposed "that a small percentage of the profits should be made available to the Indians."42 Clearly, Crapaud's band saw the preserves as areas set aside for exclusive Native use in a wider sense than officials in Ottawa were willing to concede. Along the Mackenzie, other bands complained about the significant increase in the number of bush fires touched off during the wartime activity. In the Mackenzie Mountains, popular belief had it that these fires had been started by Japanese fire bombs,43 but the origins seem more likely to have been closer to home. The main government response to these complaints seems to have been to enlarge the RCMP detachments at key centres, primarily to intercede in a myriad of disturbances between workers, armed forces personnel, and Native people. Perhaps the clearest demonstration of the government's priorities came in a question over development in the Yellowknife mining district. The Frobisher Mining Company had hired a few Natives in its operations, and these employees had established a small camp near the mine site. Soon the camp had attracted a number of other Natives, and an official of the company wrote to the Yellowknife mining recorder, asking him to get the Department of Indian Affairs to remove them. The mining recorder noticed that the area in question was located inside the Yellowknife Game Preserve and so wrote to his superiors for advice. Deputy Commissioner R.A. Gibson drafted a memo to the Department of Indian Affairs in which he acknowledged that the mine was inside the preserve's boundaries but nonetheless expressed the opinion that it would be best if the Natives moved off the site. In the end, Gibson appears to have thought better of his admission, and the final copy of his memo did not include the statement about the location of the mine site.44 The outcome of
a 14 Drum Songs
the incident has not yet surfaced in the files, but clearly, the NWT Council preferred to emphasize commercial and resource development above the need to protect Native access to their customary resource base. Furthermore, it is clear that little benefit accrued to the Dene from these development projects after the war. Even before peace was declared, the Canol pipeline project had been abandoned, and in 1944 most of the facilities that had been brought into the Mackenzie District were removed; some barges and buildings were sold to area entrepreneurs and to the Northern Transportation Company. The pipeline itself was scrapped and torn up in 1947-48. Norman Wells and Port Radium became important new settlements, but few Dene chose to live in them. After the war, the NWT and Yukon were left with the networks of roads, airports, and radio communications and a boundless sense of optimism, but it was the non-Native population that proposed to build on this new base. "The war threw into sharp perspective the great fallow areas of Canada," wrote R.A. Davies in 1947. "They cry out for the explorer, the scientist, the settler."45 The war years had contributed to a widening gulf between the Native and non-Native economies in the north. It was through the wartime experience that the Canadian government was awakened to its lack of knowledge about the north, and a series of programs was instituted to rectify the problem. Geology, fish, wildlife, and human population studies were undertaken with direct and indirect government sponsorship, while scientific and popular reports gained a wide readership. "The war years have been years of Canadian awakening," wrote R.A. Davies.46 A series of policy and legislative initiatives soon followed, all of which were underlined by a bolder approach to government encouragement of resource development. Game management was the first area of concern. The administrative apparatus was reorganized and a new Northwest Territories Forest and Game Management Service was established, with stations at Aklavik, Fort Norman, Fort Simpson, and Fort Resolution; two biologists were hired to provide information as well as to conduct research. In 1947 the Dominion Wildlife Service was created to consolidate Ottawa's activities in wildlife management. And the following year, responsibility for game policy in the NWT was transferred to the NWT Council. Many of the new personnel had little knowledge of northern ecology and even less sympathy for Native ideas about resource use or rights. Their mandate was to manage wildlife resources according to "scientific" principles for the benefit of national economic development.
215 Economics
Reports from wildlife surveys alarmed the conservationists in Ottawa, who became convinced that every major species of both fur and game animals was on the brink of crisis. Over-hunting was blamed; the Dene were accused of wasteful use of game by unsympathetic administrators with little knowledge of the realities of life in the north. A re-energized Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection argued successfully for more restrictions on hunting and more rigorous enforcement of the game regulations. Wardens were appointed for each of the major settlements and instructed to work with the RCMP in enforcing the law. Even so, there was uncertainty about the legal status of Native hunting. Opinion was divided about whether Natives were to be permitted to hunt for food (but not for commercial purposes) no matter what the season or if the game laws simply applied across the board to both Natives and non-Natives. The game wardens seemed to believe the latter, and reports like the following from Warden Shattuck at Fort Smith began to flow in: "An Indian shot two moose during the month of August. I made a patrol 30 miles up the Liard River to bring him in. He had shot a cow and calf and sold the meat in Simpson. Was convicted and fined $ 15 and costs. This was the first case of this kind in Simpson, therefore the Indian was let off with a minimum fine. Five Indians who had bought the meat were also convicted and fined five dollars and costs each."*? Before the war, most people had been able to ignore the game regulations when they seemed inappropriate or would cause hardship; after the war, the enforcement crackdown made these regulations increasingly difficult to ignore. For those who believed that the Natives had the right to hunt for food regardless of the season, another problem arose to confuse the issue. The distinction between hunting for food and hunting for commercial purposes might have made sense in Ottawa, but it proved to be a major problem for the Dene. For as long as people could remember, they had relied on the superior hunting skills of particular individuals who would supply a moose or a caribou for the group. In return, the recipients of the meat or skin would provide a service to the hunter. As cash entered the economy, the tradition of reciprocity embraced it as well and people might provide money in return for their moose meat. To outsiders, it appeared as if the hunter was selling his meat, but to the Dene, the successful hunter was merely providing for the group as he always had. How else were the elderly or the poor hunters to feed themselves? A breakdown in cross-cultural communication made the application of northern game laws highly problematic.
2i6 Drum Songs Furthermore, there appear to have been breakdowns in communication between game wardens in the field (reporting to the NWT and Yukon Branch) and the Indian Affairs Branch regarding the actual intent of the regulations. In 1947 H. Conn reported to the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection that "an unfortunate incident" had occurred the previous year when a zealous game warden had seized a caribou carcass from a Native and then "broke into his cache of meat to see what other supplies he had." Conn expressed his concerns on behalf of Indian Affairs, noting "It was our understanding that these regulations would apply to white persons but not to the natives who require game for food at all times of the year."48 Another member of the board agreed that it had been an error but explained that the officer in question was new. Unfortunately, however, the problem repeated itself regularly. Many wardens seemed unaware of the fact that the Dene had, in fact, been promised the right to hunt for food. A combination of overly zealous enforcement and ignorance of policy among officials created a nearly impossible situation for the Natives. The fact that this new, heavy-handed enforcement of game regulations coincided with declining fur prices spelled out potential disaster for the residents of the north. Not surprisingly, the Dene throughout the Mackenzie Valley were outraged. They revived their protests against game regulations on the grounds that they were contrary both to treaty promises and to common sense. The caribou season (now open only i September to i March) became a matter of grave concern to the Chipewyan and Dogrib, since it affected their major food supply. The people of Fort Smith and Resolution complained that the ban on March caribou hunting interfered with the ancient tradition of hunting for summer supplies in that month. "Caribou meat is said to be in excellent condition in the month of March," reported the president of Northern Traders, "and these natives have been accustomed to put up their summer supply at that period from time immemorial."49 Chiefs all over the region began to complain regularly and vociferously to the agents, the RCMP, the missionaries, and anyone else they hoped could carry their message to Ottawa. Chief Johnny Yakalaya of Fort Norman complained in 1948 that his people could not kill sufficient game to meet their basic needs. The Cree and Chipewyan bands at Fort Chipewyan reported in 1947 that under the current closed seasons, they did not have a single source of fresh meat between 31 March and 31 August; they wanted permission to kill more moose, which they noted were increasing in Wood Buffalo Park. Chief Jimmy Bruno of the Fort Rae Dogrib asked to have the marten season reopened, and Chief Lamalice argued that non-Natives
217
Economics
should not be permitted to take any marten at all and only a few beaver, and asked the government to supply his people with more ammunition, tackle, and rations. In August 1948 the Fort Simpson band decided to give up trying to get their agent to support their case and petitioned the government directly to have him removed.50 In other cases, agents were more sympathetic and found themselves supporting Dene demands in the face of opposition from the game management branch of the administration. Dr LJ. Mulvihill, the agent at Fort Resolution, reported that "the Indians were emphatic in their statements that when Treaty was made they were promised that there would never be any restrictions in hunting and trapping." Mulvihill took the initiative of investigating these claims himself and found two eyewitnesses who had been present at the treaty signing. They confirmed independently that "the possibilities of any future game laws were laughed aside, presumably to facilitate the signing of the Treaty." Mulvihill did not believe the Natives were making unreasonable claims. "Although most Indians understand and comply with the Game Laws respecting fur bearing animals," he reported, "they resent, and in my opinion, justly so, the present restrictions on the killing of game for food, which are strictly enforced for the first time this year."5' In June of 1949, Chief Casimir (also spelled Glosmere) Lamalice sent a petition from Hay River directly to the governor general in which he summarized the widespread dissatisfaction in the north. "We are hunters, trappers, and fishermen and depend on the bush and the lakes for our living," he explained. "Since the signing of the treaVy about fifty years ago, these rights have been gradually taken away from us until now it is almost impossible for us to live." He reiterated the argument that his people had been promised that their economy would be protected by the treaty, and complained particularly about the one-moose limit and the closed seasons on beaver, marten, and muskrat. "One moose does not go far when you consider that we had all we needed at the time of our treaty," he lamented, concluding, "We request that we be given our full hunting, trapping, and fishing rights. We understand that if an animal such as the beaver becomes scarce, then it must be protected by restrictions. But when a restriction is placed on one part of our living, the Government should make up that part in money." In his closing paragraph, Chief Lamalice pointed out the growing divergence between the lives of Natives and non-Natives in the north. "In this district it is a time of plenty for the white man, but to we Indians it is a time of depression," he wrote. "Please help us to live as we did in the past."52
2i8 Drum Songs
As Chief Lamalice made clear, the Dene complaints were being made not simply on point of principle, but also on point of necessity. The combined factors of restricted hunting rights, declining fur prices, low animal populations, and rising prices for consumer goods conspired to reduce the standard of living obtainable from both sectors of the Dene economy: country food and trapping income. While incomes had increased slightly towards the end of the war, there was a sudden precipitous drop in Native income immediately afterward. At Fort Resolution, for example, one of the headmen saw his trapping income drop from a high of $ i ,600 in 1945 to a mere $455 in 1947.53 The regional supervisor of Indian agencies reported that throughout the Mackenzie District "the Indians are finding it very difficult to make a living." Indeed, he wrote bluntly, "most of them are destitute." While fur prices were beyond government control, he urged that the suffering be alleviated by permitting "greater latitude of hunting and killing for food."54 The message was received in the various administrative branches in Ottawa, and a consensus developed that something had to be done. Instead of respecting the Dene claims about treaty promises or Dene knowledge of their own systems of wildlife conservation, however, the NWT Council continued to insist that the wider application of scientific management principles would solve the problems of what it saw primarily as the fur "industry." A proposal was generated to implement a "marsh management" scheme for the important Mackenzie Delta trapping region and a zoologist at the University of British Columbia, Ian McT. Cowan, was asked to investigate the idea. When Cowan tendered his report in 1948, he rejected the idea primarily because of the large geographic area that would have to be surveyed and policed. Instead he revived the idea of individually registered traplines based on the British Columbia model. Not only would trapline registration simplify the administration of the program, Cowan argued, but it would "tend to foster individual initiative" among trappers and gradually educate Native trappers in the "idea and ideal" of conservation.55 The government responded positively to Cowan's proposal. Trapline registration was believed to be the tool whereby Native people would be "encouraged to manage carefully the fur-bearers" in their personal territories and "to effect improvements that will lead to increased fur production."56 There was some concern among the members of the NWT Council that too many people were spending their time nonproductively in the rapidly growing settlements. "It may be a good thing to get some of them out in the bush where they
2ig Economics
should be," commented council member James Brody in 1951. "Get them out trapping," echoed General H.A. Young.57 In some ways, then, government policy had not changed. The hope was still to prevent Natives from becoming a drain on the public purse through dependence on social assistance programs. The North West Game Ordinance of 1949 introduced the system whereby individual trappers would be granted exclusive rights to trap in a clearly defined area. Registration certificates were issued from Fort Smith upon application to a district game warden. If a group of individuals chose to work a territory collectively, they were to be permitted to do so, and Indian and Inuit trappers were not required to pay a fee for registering their traplines. During the first year of the program, 310 certificates were issued to register 425 trappers, of whom 257 were Indian, 107 Inuit, and 61 "Others," presumably whites. Three years later, the Mackenzie Mountains Game Preserve was quietly abolished in the belief that under the new system preserves were now redundant. In some regions, Dene reaction to the new program was decidedly unenthusiastic. When agent L.C. Hunter informed a number of bands that the legislation was pending in 1948, the people of Resolution and Rae were almost hostile. At Rae, Chief Bruno insisted that because "his band of Indians made their living by roaming from one spot to another in search of fish and meat," he wanted the agent to ensure "that every effort be made to prevent the Indian being forced to have individual trap lines."58 The Rae band became the most assertive opponent of the regulations once they were proclaimed law. They refused to register any traplines, arguing that "by treaty they have trapping rights over a vast amount of country."59 According to Peter Clancy, who has studied the impact of the trapline registration program on the Dene, no trappers in the entire Great Slave Lake region applied to register until the mid-igsos, and even then, the Dogrib "steadfastly resisted all entreaties" to register.6" Further north, objections were raised at first, but lengthy discussions with the local agent served to convince people that the system could ultimately work "in their best interests."61 It may well be that because the more northern trappers were not ranging as far from home base as the Great Slave Lake people were, they did not see the trapline registration program as imposing an undue limitation on their trapping. In some areas where people were willing to register, they subverted the government's intentions to teach the value of individual ownership by registering in groups and continuing to trap the land in the interests of the collective. Even in areas
220 Drum Songs
where traplines were registered, the program encountered difficulties in disputes over territorial boundaries and informal family arrangements that undermined the purpose of the program.62 It could also be argued that the trapline policy was much like the nineteenth-century attempt in Canada to encourage Native peoples to take up individual ownership of farms and real estate as part of the assimilationist program. If northern conditions prevented farming, at least northern Natives could be pushed towards Canadian concepts of property ownership and entrepreneurial outlook through individual management of a piece of trapping country. Clearly, the Dene did not share these ideals and shaped the program to suit their own ends. While weaknesses in the program itself contributed in part to its limited success, Dene resistance to foreign value systems was an equally important factor. Similar programs were being implemented in the provincial norths as well. In 1944 Saskatchewan had introduced the Northern Fur Conservation Program, which created "trapping blocks" or conservation areas.63 The system was replaced in the late 19508 in Manitoba and Saskatchewan with trapline registration programs. Again, the Chipewyan reacted with a preference for group rather than individual registration, and a special area near the settlement of Brochet was set aside for the elderly who could no longer manage to travel any considerable distance.64 In these as well as in the federal government programs, however, there continued to be considerable ambivalence among administrators about any policy that might encourage people to continue a life of trapping. As two advisers to the NWT Council wrote in 1956, "In the long run it would seem to be more desirable from both the economic and social points of view to encourage a substantial number of people to leave trapping."65 It was clearly a shift from prewar policy that had accommodated hunting and trapping in the north. The Dene certainly did not share the belief that trapping was no longer a desirable occupation, and they continued their protest against other aspects of the game regulations after 1949. Over and over again, the same complaints were made. Restrictions on killing moose, caribou, and other food sources were the main concern, although trapping restrictions also posed a problem. As the superintendent of the Fort Resolution agency explained it, the people in his agency depend on the country for every part of their living ... With the Indian directly dependent on the country for his living every single regulation that cuts down on his hunting and trapping directly reduces his standard of liv-
221 Economics ing accordingly ... If hunting and trapping were a side line then the regulations would not have such a pronounced effect on them but when it affects the only means of livelihood then to get the Indian to co-operate with us, where these regulations is concerned, is very different. 66
Among other things, the Dene attempted to point out that a single regulation for the entire NWT was a very unrealistic approach. They were perfectly willing to cooperate when limitations on certain species made sense because of local shortages, but they could see no point in limiting the take on a species that was locally abundant. As they knew better than the members of the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection, animal populations and conditions could vary tremendously from one region to the next. Certainly, some local officials were convinced that the Natives had justifiable complaints on this point. W. Sloan at Fort Smith attempted to explain to his superiors that, for example, the limit of a single moose made sense at Fort Smith, where there were few moose, but "in Good Hope, Fort Norman and Fort Simpson areas it is very difficult to sell the Indians on this law, as the moose are relatively abundant, and it is very easy for an Indian to shoot his moose." In some cases, attempts were made to stagger open seasons according to the region, but poor information could make even these regulations seem arbitrary to the Dene. For example, the muskrat season at Fort Rae was supposed to close on 16 May, while trappers could work until 16 June north of the Arctic Circle. Sloan pointed out that since spring came to the Fort Rae district just as late as at Good Hope, the Rae trappers were being put at a disadvantage.67 For some bands, the new insistence on enforcing game regulations struck even more deeply at the heart of their economy. Even as late as the 19505, there were people who lived year-round on the land, coming to a trading post only once a year. Among these were the Colville Lake people who came to Good Hope each summer for three weeks. According to custom, they hunted for food along the way. When it came to the attention of the game wardens that they were killing beaver with guns (rather than trapping them) on their trip into Good Hope, alarm bells rang in Ottawa. The district warden had some sympathy for the Colville Lake people. "Is it the intent of the Game Act to persecute these backward natives," he asked condescendingly, "and deprive them of a livelihood because the white men whom they have actually no contact with dictates that they must trap beaver [?]" His Ottawa superiors were even less sympathetic and concluded that the Colville Lake people were shooting beaver not because they needed food while travelling but because they were
222
Drum Songs
"extremely primitive" and had no idea whatsoever of game regulation or management. The solution in their eyes was a slow process of education, to be administered with "firmness, tact, persuasion and good judgement."68 In other words, the game management officials believed that the Dene had to adapt to non-Native theories about wildlife management and were completely unwilling to accept the Dene's ideas on the subject. Many of the Dene ideas about animal behaviour were deeply rooted in their ancient world-view, and these ideas were particularly perplexing to the game wardens. For the most part, these ideas were dismissed as mere superstition. In reporting to the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection, biologist A.E. Porsild suggested that trapline registration programs would never work in the north because the Natives believed they could always trap whenever they pleased. He explained: "The natives have a fatalistic view and believe that whatever fur bearers are destined to be caught in their traps will be caught in them, no matter how many other traps are set near by."69 Some trappers also believed animal populations were always large but that in certain times the animals refused to give themselves to the hunters. Given these beliefs, it is hardly surprising that many Dene were sceptical about the value of game regulations. Closed seasons were simply irrelevant because the animals made the decision of whether to be trapped or not. Finally, there was a very practical complaint about the regulation process. Dene hunters and trappers came forward from time to time with information about animal populations and suggestions for revisions to the rules. Unfortunately, these suggestions and complaints fell on deaf ears. From the Dene perspective, regulations were being dictated arbitrarily by far-away, faceless people who did not know the land. The hunters, naturally enough, wanted to be kept informed of the decision-making process so that they could react to proposals before they became law. Even on that simple request, they were turned down. "A suggestion is made that the Indian chief should be kept informed concerning the policies under consideration," commented one official. "This is a controversial point, as we believe that the proposed changes to the Game Ordinance are confidential information and should not be brought to the public eye."7° It is hardly surprising that when J-W. Burton of Conservation and Management Services in the Northern Administration Branch took a tour of the Athabasca District in 1951, he noted that "in all cases, the natives showed great distrust of the Government personnel in so far as game matters were concerned. It appeared to rne the natives think that every time a government person approaches them in con-
223
Economics
nection with game matters, greater restrictions of the trapping and hunting activities will follow.'"71 Although the Dene probably did not realize it, they had in fact succeeded in convincing a number of agents and personnel in the Indian Affairs Branch that their concerns about the game laws were justified; Indian Affairs, however, had been unable to convince the Advisory Board on Wild Life Protection and it was that board that appeared to have been the most influential with the NWT Council. Perhaps G.H. Gooderham, regional supervisor of Indian agencies, put it best. "The Indians all were worried about the restrictions to killing caribou and other animals for food," he reported after a 1949 inspection tour. "We sympathize with them. The mammologists who have stated that certain wild life must be preserved at all costs fail to take into account the human element, I fear."72 Game regulations posed a major problem for the Dene in the 19505, but other factors contributed to hardship as well. Fur prices began to fall after the war and continued at low levels throughout the 19508. To compound the situation, the economic boom in southern Canada was forcing up the costs of consumer goods and hunting supplies, so northern trappers were caught in a bind. The HBC began to restrict credit to its suppliers, further complicating the situation. Peter Clancy has argued that real trapping income in 1956 had been reduced to one-third of its prewar level.73 Various Dene bands petitioned for assistance in the form of a guaranteed minimum price for fur or freer access to credit, but instead of considering policies that would perpetuate the trapping economy, Indian Affairs began to promote other initiatives, such as tourism and handicraft production. The Saskatchewan government created a provincial Fur Marketing Service in 1945, but Native trappers still found themselves heavily in debt and unable to purchase the necessary supplies from season to season. The attitudes of the Canadian government towards postwar northern development were scarcely deterred by problems in the fur sector. Other renewable resources also received attention, and notable among these was fish, the mainstay of most Native food supplies. Several small commercial fishing operations had been working Lake Athabasca since the mid-igaos, 74 but the idea of a larger commercial fishery on Great Slave Lake was raised during the war. Some of the members of the NWT Council were concerned about the potential impact on local inhabitants, and the question was discussed at some length with the Department of Fisheries. It was agreed that it would be appropriate to limit any commercial catch to 450,000 kilograms dressed weight. The Great Slave Lake Fishing Company, which
224 Drum Songs
was formed in Vancouver, leased an island near Hay River, intending to build a cold-storage plant. Wartime restrictions on supplies prevented it from obtaining the necessary equipment for the plant, so plans were put on hold in 1943. In 1944 the Fisheries Research Board began a more active promotion of the fishery, conducting a major survey of Great Slave Lake to evaluate its commercial potential. The following year, the commercial fishery was officially opened with a catch limit doubled to 900,000 kilograms. Initially the only company to establish itself on the lake was Mclnnes Products Corporation, an Athabasca-based company that shipped its catch to Birdseye Limited of the United States market. With the completion of the Mackenzie Highway in 1948, however, the fishery began a period of dramatic growth. The quotas for the lake were increased, accommodating a number of new companies that built docks, warehouses, and other facilities. Within a few years, the fishery was producing over $2 million worth offish per year. Almost all of it was shipped to American buyers in Chicago, Detroit, and New York. Meanwhile, the Dene bands that had relied on the fishery in Great Slave Lake were becoming concerned. At first they had welcomed the opportunity for commercial fishing and some became involved in it themselves. Perhaps they had also been convinced to accept the fishery because they were promised exclusive rights to fish in a fivemile zone offshore from the main settlements. Such an arrangement must have seemed the equivalent of the game preserves: special areas for exclusive Native use and continued access to the resources of the remainder of the lake. As with the game preserves, however, the intent of the regulations was soon distorted by the erroneous interpretation of local officials. Chief Lamalice's band at Hay River was informed by a Department of Fisheries employee that, in fact, they were to be limited to fishing in the five-mile zone. Then, when the band began a small commercial fishing operation within that zone in the summer of 1948, they were told that commercial fishing was prohibited inside the five-mile limit. The Dene, in effect, had been cut off from participation in the commercial fishery. Chief Lamalice and his band, already frustrated over hunting and trapping regulations, put together a petition to send directly to the governor general, as has been partially described above. The petitioners reasserted that the right to fish had been guaranteed by treaty, and complained not only that their people had been restricted to a five-mile zone, but that "this is shallow water with the poorest fish."75 R.A. Gibson, deputy commissioner of the NWT, asked the Hay River stipendiary magistrate to investigate the complaint, and the latter confirmed what had occurred, adding that it
225
Economics
was clearly "a grave misunderstanding and misinterpretation of the Special Fishery Regulations" on the part of the chief fishery inspector,76 an employee of the Department of Fisheries. More accurately, the decision reflected the interpretation of aboriginal resource-use rights in currency elsewhere in Canada. Provincial officials were arguing that natives had certain hunting and fishing rights but only for the purposes of domestic use. Hunting and fishing for commercial purposes was apparently not considered an aboriginal right in Ottawa either. The distinction was directly opposite to the Dene understanding of their treaty rights, since they believed that they had been guaranteed the right to hunt, trap, and fish for whatever purpose, in perpetuity. Not long after the Hay River people petitioned the governor general, other bands fishing in Great Slave Lake began to voice concerns of their own. Chiefs Alexie Jean Marie Beaulieu, Pierre Phressie, and Samuel Simmons of Resolution wrote to M.P. Aubrey Simmons in 1950 complaining, among other things, that the commercial fishing was ruining their fishery and asking the government to put a stop to it. Simmons passed the letter on to the Department of Fisheries, but the assistant deputy minister dismissed the complaint with the breezy observation that "there is no evidence that commercial fishing has affected in any way the domestic fishing in Great Slave Lake." Indeed, he added, "it is difficult to understand the complaint registered by the Indians."77 However, the chiefs' complaints were verified quite independently by a report from Game Warden Camsell at Hay River the previous year. Camsell had been fishing for dog food and observed that it was "the first time that I have ever had trouble in catching enough fish with one fifty yard net in July and I have been fishing here since 1929." There was no doubt in his mind about the cause: it was obviously "the large amount of fish taken out be [sic] commercial fishermen during the last two years."78 The Department of Fisheries itself was aware that by 1956 the "catch-pernet" had declined by 45 percent for trout and 30 percent for whitefish, while by the early 19605, the average size of the fish had declined by 20 percent. Nevertheless, officials dismissed such information as no matter for concern but "simply the natural outcome of intensive commercial exploitation."79 Indeed, the Department of Fisheries was so pleased with the results of its experiment at Great Slave Lake that in 1951 it proposed an increase in the allowable quota. During the brief debate that followed, Merv Hardie, a member of the Northwest Territorial Council, expressed concern about the impact the commercial fishery was having on Native residents. "At Fort Rae the Indian can drop his nets, and where five years ago
aa6 Drum Songs he would lift 200 or 300 fish, today he is lifting nothing," Hardie reported. "Since the opening of commercial fishing on the lake, they have to travel a great number of miles in order to get fish to feed the dogs."80 The council was not convinced that a real problem existed, however, and instead agreed to increase the allowable catch to just over 4 million kilograms. Statistics collected during the 1958—59 season make clear the massive difference in commercial and subsistence fishing operations on Great Slave Lake. Over 1.3 million kilograms of whitefish were taken by commercial fishermen, and only 10,000 kilograms by Natives. The commercial fishery also netted over 900,000 kilograms of lake trout, while Native harvesters took less than 700 kilograms.81 Furthermore, because few of the commercial fishing operations hired local workers, the Dene were doubly excluded. The fishing companies alleged that Native workers were unreliable, since they preferred to work only for a few days at a time, then "go back into town to live with their wives and families until their earnings are used up."8a Clearly the Great Slave Lake people had a very different idea of the value of labour from that of the fishing companies. A lack of cultural understanding on the part of the companies made them inflexible; unlike the old fur-trading firms, they were not willing to accommodate the Dene ethos. Nevertheless, there was some local participation in the fishery. It became the custom for the fishing companies to lease their equipment to a captain and crew, who were in return responsible for obtaining the necessary licences. By 1961 one-quarter of the licences for summer fishing on Great Slave Lake were held by Natives, as were 16 percent of the winter licences.83 Some Dene had chosen to participate in commercial fishing in spite of the cultural divide. Others were much less enthusiastic. At a series of trappers' meetings held in 1960, concerns about these developments were raised yet again by people who lived along the shores of Great Slave Lake. The report prepared for the NWT Council noted that "in general there was strong opposition to the present methods of operation and to the large amounts of fish wasted by the commercial operators." People reported poor fish harvests and expressed opposition to opening other lakes to commercial fishing operations.84 The council clearly had a completely different view of the matter. Only a few months later, its report on the fishing industry argued: "The water areas of the Northwest Territories are capable of supporting a significant commercial fishery considerably in excess of the present exploitation. At present, the fishery is confined by regulation and policy to Great Slave Lake and a limited number of smaller lakes
227
Economics
which have been opened to satisfy specific demands. Further exploitation is desirable and is required by industry to satisfy market demands."85 While the development of the NWT fishery moved in accordance with the 19505 model of private entrepreneurship, people living in northern Saskatchewan found themselves in very different circumstances following the election of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation (CCF) government under Tommy Douglas in 1944. After a brief postwar experiment with a fish marketing board, the Saskatchewan government set up a crown corporation to assist with fish marketing and to establish cooperatives for Metis and other fishermen in what were defined as "outlying regions." The program was designed for Metis fishermen specifically because the provincial government argued that Ottawa was responsible for treaty Indians. Under the Saskatchewan program, non-residents were not eligible for licences on lakes in certain designated areas, and the provincial government built a number of processing plants that were leased to the co-ops. A central operation, Northern Co-operative Fisheries, was created to buy the fish from the co-ops and run the processing plants. The program had mixed success. It succeeded in reserving northern fishing to northern residents and assisted in developing the necessary infrastructure for commercial operations, but it failed in its attempts to move beyond basic filleting and freezing. A small fish-meal plant operated briefly at Lake Athabasca, and some canning was attempted at other plants, but both projects were abandoned because costs were too high to make the finished product competitive. Area Metis and other Natives did not move into fishing as an exclusive occupation; they continued to trap during the winter, fishing primarily in the summer according to old traditions but now using some of the fish to supplement their incomes rather than using all of the fish for their own direct dietary needs.86 This seasonal participation restricted the success of the fisheries program from the government point of view, although it was clearly a welcome addition to income in hard times from the Native point of view and fitted easily into the established annual round. The commercial fishing on Great Slave and Athabasca lakes was potentially much more disruptive to the Dene economy than the ongoing competition with non-Native trappers, and yet the government appears to have been far less concerned about regulation in this case. The reasons for the difference are not clear, although they may rest primarily in the failure of officials to recognize the importance of a reliable supply of fish to the Dene diet and in their ignorance about the slow growth rates of fish in cold northern waters. At
228
Drum Songs
any rate, people who had been able to provide most of their own food requirements were finding themselves increasingly reliant on purchased food. And purchased food required a cash income. With falling fur prices, how were people to obtain that cash? For the Canadian government, the solution was obvious. "Development" of the northern economy would benefit not only the people of southern Canada, but also the people of the north who had been caught in the economic squeeze. The northern provinces and territories had to be drawn into the mainstream Canadian economic system of entrepreneurship, wage labour and investment. Unlike the governments of the 19205, which considered it sufficient simply to throw open the doors of the "frontier" to private initiative, the federal government now wanted to plan and direct the course of development. Leadership, information gathering, subsidy, and support were to be the foundations. Large corporations and large projects would follow. The old Department of the Interior was reorganized in 1950 as the Department of Resources and Development (changed to Northern Affairs and National Resources in 1953). The Geological Survey of Canada launched "Operation Mackenzie" to survey those areas of the district that had not yet been mapped. Other surveys were conducted by the Parks Branch, the Forestry Branch, the Canadian Wildlife Service, and the Department of Energy, Mines and Resources. In 1957 the report of the Royal Commission on Canada's Economic Prospects placed a heavy emphasis on the future role of Yukon and the Northwest Territories in Canadian development as a "long term source of basic materials" for Canadian industry.87 In the buoyant and expansionist mood of postwar Canada, the north was once again a source of fascination and hope. Of course all of this activity was initiated without consultation with the Dene, who were probably for the most part completely unaware of either the general outlook or the specific policies behind it all. A cursory attempt to draw the Natives into the process was made during the 19505 with a government program to organize trappers' associations along the Mackenzie. The purpose was not to provide Native trappers with an opportunity to organize collective opposition to the government conservation programs, however. As William Sloan explained it, "We feel that trappers and Indians would have more voice, and in general be more realistic [about game regulations] if they formed trappers associations." He noted that the program seemed to be working in Aklavik but complained, "We have attempted to form trappers' associations at Fort Norman, Fort Simpson and Fort Smith. These efforts have met with little success."88 The department's agenda appears to have been in part to encourage
22g
Economics
Table 9.1 The Changing Shape of the NWT Economy Employment (%)
Fishing/Hunting/Trapping Service Mining Professional Manufacturing Construction Transportation/Communication Trade/Commerce Clerical Agriculture Logging Finance Administration Other
1941
1951
1961
1971
1981
60 10 7 5 4 3 2 2 1 .6