Lessons From Canadian Indigenous History: How to Avoid Getting Lost

(The Chapter That Didn’t Make It)

Note: The author presented a version of this work as a keynote presentation at the 49th Annual Alberta Archaeological Association Meetings, Drumheller, Alberta, Canada, 2024.

“The prairies over which we travelled presented the same undulating, monotonous appearance.…To add to our discomforts on this day’s march, old Welsh, the guide, lost his bearings and led us miles out of the way. Indeed, for a considerable time we followed no track at all and were at the mercy of the Métis.” — Canadian Artist, Henri Julien, travelling west across the Canadian Prairies with the newly formed North West Mounted Police, 1874

The North West Mounted Police (NWMP) near the beginning of their trek west. Sketch by artist Henri Julien. He accompanied the police over endless stretches of Prairie. They traveled into what would become southern Saskatchewan and Alberta, Canada.

While researching our recently published book, Cartographic Poetry. Examining Historic Blackfoot and Gros Ventre Maps, ¹ I became interested in Indigenous wayfinding (the process or activity of ascertaining one’s position and planning and following a route) and navigation skills. ² Compared to the Blackfoot, I realized that our current society has lost much of its natural ability to navigate through space. Where would we be without roads and signs, maps or GPS systems to guide us wherever we wish to go?

LOST!

In our book, we examine four Blackfoot and one Gros Ventre map recorded in the journals of Hudson’s Bay Company trader and surveyor, Peter Fidler. Fascinated by these maps, I have delved deeper into Indigenous navigation and wayfinding. ³

Imagine traveling across the vast, empty, and often featureless Canadian prairies or Arctic. Picture doing this hundreds of years ago. You would have no map, road, or GPS for guidance. How would you know where you were? How would you navigate across a barren landscape without any of these devices? In this blog, I will first explore how humans navigate. Then, I will investigate how North American Indigenous People navigated their prairie (and other) landscapes. ⁴

Part of my inspiration for this work came from reading a book written by M. R. O’Connor, entitled Wayfinding. The Science and Mystery of How Humans Navigate the World. ⁵ I recommend this work to anyone who wants to dive deeper into this fascinating topic. I borrow examples from O’Connor’s work to place our Canadian Indigenous maps into a broader framework.

M. R. O’Connor is a journalist who has conducted extensive research, including fieldwork, on wayfinding in the Indigenous world. What I appreciate about her approach is her treatment of the work as journalism. She provides the reader with all relevant theories and viewpoints. Some of these are controversial, and she includes them from a wide range of disciplines. This allows readers to decide their validity.

How We Find Our Way Around

We don’t need to concentrate much when navigating through spaces we’re familiar with. However, when we travel greater distances and into unfamiliar territory, negotiating becomes more challenging. We have developed new technological devices. These devices help us navigate through unfamiliar spaces. They guide us to our desired destination effectively with little effort. We no longer need to plan and memorize our routes. Our instruments do that for us.

As a teenager in the 1960s, I lived in southwestern Saskatchewan, Canada. I would often explore the prairies on my dirt bike. Occasionally, I motored into the sand hills northwest of Cabri, Saskatchewan. I was soon surrounded by an endless set of similar-looking dunes, with no roads or tracks to guide me. Also, when out on the vast prairies, where often there are few landmarks, everything begins to look the same.

For a few moments, I realized I was utterly and totally lost.

My moment of panic at my predicament didn’t last long. With a few simple observations, I managed to find my way back.

Indigenous people throughout the world, on either the land or on the oceans, can’t afford to get lost when navigating their territories. Survival depended on knowing where you were or how to find your destination at all times.

In her book, O’Connor documents the early Polynesian’s profound knowledge of their watery environment and celestial navigation skills. “Seafarers might estimate their latitude and direction by looking at the positions of the stars, particularly those near the horizon in the night sky. The 32 principal stars and various secondary stars that made up the star compass served as a framework for navigation. This complex information enabled navigators to plan their course and make changes in response to the shifting positions of the stars throughout the course of the night.” ⁶

What amazes me is the size of the territories Indigenous people navigated and their detailed knowledge of their surroundings. Take, for example, the Blackfoot Indigenous maps that I will explore in detail, as well as the size of the territory in question. Ki oo cus (a Siksika leader) drew a map for the Hudson’s Bay Company trader and surveyor, Peter Fidler, in 1802. It stretches as far north as Buffalo Lake in central Alberta, Canada. It extends down to the northern parts of Wyoming, USA, covering an estimated distance of 960km.
Additionally, it spans from the Rocky Mountains to Manitou Lake in southern Saskatchewan. This distance is approximately 707km. The total area then would encompass a mind-boggling 678,720 square kilometres.

Can you imagine being at the fur trade post Chesterfield House (near the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer River)? Picture yourself drawing a map of some key landmarks of this vast territory for Peter Fidler. How did Ki oo cus and others achieve this feat? How did he lead his band to the places they needed to be during certain times of the year? He had no maps. He kept all the knowledge of his territory and the landscape in his head.

These are the five maps we explore in our book. Some of the other maps encompass an even larger area than Ki oo cus’s map. These areas were not all part of these leaders’ traditional territories. They were places known to them or that they visited. The Ki oo cus map, for example, shows the travel routes his people took. This suggests they travelled as far south as the Judith Mountains in central Montana, USA. Some of them also travelled as far north as Buffalo Lake in central Alberta, Canada. ⁷

Three of the Blackfoot maps that cover parts of Canada’s Alberta and Saskatchewan (top) and modern renditions of the territories and places those maps encompass (bottom). From left to right: First, one version of Old Swan’s (Ac ko mok ki) map, 1802. Then, Ak ko wee ak’s map, 1802. Lastly, Ki oo cus’s map, 1802. ⁸

How Humans Navigate

How did humans, without today’s navigation aids, find their way around?

This somewhat controversial, complex topic touches many disciplines (genetics, otorhinolaryngology/physiology, psychology, geography, anthropology, and neuroscience, to name a few). It focuses primarily on one major part of our brain – the hippocampus (Greek for “seahorse” because of its shape), also known as the Horn of the Ram. This part of the human brain is primarily responsible for memory. It also facilitates learning and spatial navigation. I like to think of it as the area in our heads where memory happens, and navigation begins.

The hippocampus has special cells that store certain types of spatial information to help us navigate. These include: 1) Head-direction cells, which store the direction your head is pointed; 2) Place cells, which store landmarks, linear speed, and other spatial information; 3) Grid cells, which store information about space and distance; and 4) Border cells, which store information about distance and direction from a boundary.

Diagram on the left showing the location of the hippocampus, responsible for memory, and also other parts of the brain responsible for other functions. The photograph on the right of the hippocampus and the seahorse, showing the resemblance in shape between the two.

The size of the hippocampus in humans varies. For years, scientists believed that genetics determined the size of the hippocampus. This explained why some people had superior memory. It also explained why they could navigate better than others. That myth was shattered in 2006 when researchers ⁹ studied the hippocampus of London taxi drivers (who possessed vast spatial knowledge of London’s streets and neighbourhoods). They found that taxi drivers’ hippocampus was larger than their control group, larger in taxi drivers with more experience, and larger than that of bus drivers.

London taxi drivers must pass very stringent navigational tests before acquiring a taxi license. ¹⁰. The taxi study suggests that the hippocampus can expand if this part of the brain is active. What other studies also suggest, and is somewhat frightening, is that if not used, it will contract.

According to experts, if you don’t use the hippocampus to store certain types of memory information necessary for navigation, it can shrink. Relying solely on your mobile devices for navigation contributes to this shrinkage. That’s a scary thought, given how reliant we’ve become on our phones and GPS to guide us to our destinations.

Principles and Mechanics of Wayfinding and Navigation

A clear conscience is the sure sign of a bad memory.”
― Mark Twain

How does our brain process spatial information to find our way?

Have you ever walked through an unfamiliar city, park, or shopping mall? Have you then tried to retrace your steps back to your car? If you managed to find your way back, how did you do it?

Venice Italy. A City often called *The Labyrinthine City* because of its narrow, winding streets and canals, making finding your way or destination a real challenge. When I first visited Venice in 1971, we only had maps to guide us. Even with maps, we carefully noted the surroundings of our lodgings and memorized our routes so that we could find our way back again. When I visited in 2024, this was no longer a problem. With a phone GPS, you set your location and plan a route to a destination by using your GPS guide. ¹¹

There are two theories to explain what is involved in human wayfinding and navigation: 1) Practical Mastery Theory – orientation in space is based on the experience of individuals in particular environments; and, 2) Mental Map – stored spatial information in the form of a mental map, and inferred information. Both theories have their supporters and detractors.

Route Knowledge, as part of Practical Mastery Theory, is the ability to construct a sequence of points, landmarks, and perspectives that make up a path from one place to another. The traveller uses a string of memories of landmarks or viewpoints to recognize the correct sequence for getting from one place to another. The traveller also must remember that at a particular landmark, they must turn a certain direction (i.e., left, right, east, west, etc., or continue straight ahead).

With Survey Knowledge, an element of the Mental Map, the traveller mentally organizes space into a stable, map-like framework, in which every point or landmark has a two-dimensional relationship to every other point. According to O’Connor, “While route knowledge is the verbal description you might give when telling a friend how to get to the post office, survey knowledge is the “bird’s-eye” map of the walk you might draw for that friend on a piece of paper.” ¹²

I’m torn on the topic. I can imagine a mental map where I place certain places in space in order, relative to one another – landmarks, if you will, to help me get from point A to point B. I also agree with sociologists and anthropologists. They suggest that the wayfinder relies on visual memory. The wayfinder is immersed in cultural practices, habits, and knowledge. Direct perception of their environment helps reinforce that memory. This process aids in navigating and finding their way. ¹³

There’s certainly a lot of empirical evidence in support of both theories, which require a heightened awareness for spatial observation. According to famous Australian aviator Harold Gatty, “With nature as your guide, you need never be lost.” Gatty further believed that Indigenous Peoples (Native Americans, Australian Aboriginals, Polynesians, Inuit, Europeans, and Saharan nomads, etc.) had “…keener perceptions and more highly developed powers of observation than most of us…”

Gatty used a compass and other navigation instruments to help guide him on his long aerial journeys. However, he was also very interested in how Indigenous Peoples navigated. In his 1958 book, entitled *Finding You*r *Way Without a Map or Compass*, Gatty maintained that environmental pathfinding observations were only intended to supplement, never supplant, the use of a map and a compass. But Indigenous people didn’t have compasses and maps to guide them. So how did they manage to navigate accurately, often over thousands of miles?

Peter Fidler’s Blackfoot informants, who drew him maps of their territories, possessed route knowledge. They also had a certain amount of survey knowledge. This enabled them to find their destinations along a planned route. They used landmarks and other environmental indicators to guide them. They also depict those landmarks relative to one another in two-dimensional space (more on this topic later).

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MAP IF YOU HAD ONE?

**WHERE AM I?**
According to current research, a significant portion of the present population
struggles with traditional map-reading skills. This is largely due to reliance on GPS and smartphone navigation apps. ¹⁴ Outdoor guides and military personnel have found that a high percentage of the general public struggles with orienting a map, using a compass, or interpreting topographic lines. Younger adults (18-24) are the most likely to rely exclusively on smartphone apps for navigation (83%).

Humans also use different methods of orientation, which are often culturally dependent, to help them navigate. The use of an Egocentric Perspective of space requires the individual to orient everything in space, relative to themselves (i.e., front, behind, up, down, left, and right). An Allocentric Perspective of space is more objective and map-like. Individuals place objects and landmarks relative to one another in their spatial locations. As a general rule, Indigenous cultures use an allocentric perspective while industrialized cultures use an egocentric perspective more often.

Different spatial frameworks for organizing and navigating space and time. E.G., INDUSTRIALIZED SOCIETIES – LEFT-RIGHT MENTAL TIMELINE (EGOCENTRIC). E.G., INDIGENOUS CULTURES – ABSOLUTE (ALLOCENTRIC) FRAMES OF REFERENCE – EAST = PAST; WEST = FUTURE. Imagine using an egocentric perspective to find a destination and then return home. Once you turn around and go home, everything is reversed. When going to your destination, objects or landmarks were on your right side. When returning, these objects or landmarks are now on your left side. This reversal often disorients individuals and leads to eventually getting lost. ¹⁵

Before examining our Blackfoot maps more closely and what they tell us about wayfinding and navigation, let’s examine some examples of the methods and cues humans use(d) to find their way around.

On Safari – 2022, Inyati Game Preserve, South Africa

In South Africa, I am on Safari at the wildlife sanctuary near Kruger National Park. I am with six other people in an open-roofed lorry. We are driving through the countryside and admiring the wildlife. At the end of the day, our driver drove quickly through the African bushland. It was total darkness as they navigated back to our lodge for the evening. I was totally lost. But my guides were not, despite not using any GPS equipment. Only their acute knowledge of the seemingly endless trails and a keen sense of direction guided them. This was a good example of practical mastery theory of navigation and route knowledge. These men memorized thousands of minute details on the landscape. They used keen observation to help them decide where they were at any given time. This also aided in choosing the trails needed to return to the lodge.

The Inyati Game Preserve in South Africa covers approximately 650 square kilometres. A major river and a lesser stream run through it. There are some hills, but very few other landmarks. A maze of trails runs through the bush, leading to various places on the preserve (top photograph of the location of the game preserve and trail system). Upon first arriving, once we left the lodge, I was totally lost in this wilderness and would have had a hard time finding my way back, even with well-worn trails. But after a few days, as we repeatedly drove over the same trails, I began to notice subtle landforms or objects which helped me distinguish one trail from the other. After a while, I knew that if I could find the river, it would eventually lead me back to our lodge, provided I went in the right direction and didn’t get eaten or trampled by the wildlife.

Even in the dark, heading back to our lodge, our local guide and driver, George, always knew the way. I remembered then. In parts of my misspent youth, I barreled down the country roads on the very flat Saskatchewan prairies in the pitch dark. The many road crossings often looked the same to those unfamiliar with the area. But we were never lost, memorizing the many little details of our surroundings to help us find our way.

Songs and Stories Hold Our Memories

Wayfinding and navigation often involve memorizing a long sequence of places or landmarks in the right order of their occurrence along a route to another destination. Human cultures have devised ingenious ways to help them not only memorize but also keep everything in the right order. Many Indigenous cultures, including the Blackfoot, used songs and stories to remember places on the landscape.

Linguists and musicologists believe we retain details better in songs and stories. This should be a familiar concept even for our present societies. Remember how you learned your ABCs with that little song that went with it.

“By embedding story in landscapes and the actions of ancestor beings, the Aboriginal oral tradition of songlines is strikingly similar to other oral traditions—the ballads, epics, and children’s rhymes found in places like Ireland, Yugoslavia, ancient Greece, and numerous folk traditions.” — M. R. O’Connor

According to O’Connor, “In his book Memory in Oral Traditions, the cognitive neuroscientist Rubin thinks that oral traditions developed to avoid the weaknesses of human memory, which more easily records scenes rather than abstract knowledge. And these traditions utilize another strength of our brains: using rhythm and music to cue memory. Consider how many of us learn the alphabet as a child by singing it. With some practice, the notes become bound to the letters, the mind to recall them with ease.”

The Australian Aboriginals took song and travel one step further. They travelled across the continent with their songs and the night sky to guide them. To some neuroscientists, wayfinding resembles a song, which is temporally structured, as is travel.

How far back do the stories and songs go in Australian Aboriginal oral history? Some stories may go back 13,000 years. ¹⁶

According to Luise Hercus and her colleagues, stories about features and places on the landscape give “…deeper significance to ordinary geography and make it more memorable.” ¹⁷ Those places help them remember their histories, and the stories and histories help them recount the landforms of the route to be taken. It’s a rather ideal synergetic relationship, if you will.

The Pawnee, a Great Plains Indigenous People in Nebraska, for example, were deeply connected to their land and travelled with their stories. Gene Welfish, in her book, The Lost Universe, describes Pawnee land and travel: “…the Pawnees had a detailed knowledge of every aspect of the land….Its topography was in their minds like a series of vivid pictorial images, each a configuration where this or that event had happened in the past to make it memorable. This was especially true of the old men who had the richest store of knowledge in this respect.”

Pawnee culture and history were deeply embedded in the landscape. Many landforms, such as Pawnee Buttes in Nebraska, had a story associated with it. As the people travelled from place to place, the history and stories helped them remember the landforms and their place in the Nebraska landscape. This story of Pawnee Buttes is recounted in Pawneeland (open footnote for story): ¹⁸

Some Australian Aboriginals signaled to others where they came from by painting abstract images of their territory on their bodies.

“Traditionally, the highly creative application of body paint has been used as a way for Aboriginal people to show important aspects of their lives, such as social status, familial group, tribe, ancestry, spirituality and geography.” ¹⁹

According to Luke Taylor, who studies Australian Aboriginal art forms, some body paintings contained information about Indigenous geography: “These paintings can be read on one level as maps of the way Kunwinjku conceive of the spatial organization of sites in their land in terms of an abstract model of divided yet organized related body parts of ancestral beings that created those lands.” ²⁰

Imagine standing and observing your surroundings, and then setting off in the direction you believe your destination to be. First, you must know where you are. Then you must know where your destination lies, compared to where you are.

This method of navigation is called Dead Reckoning or Path Integration. It refers to the internal computation that transforms a sense of motion into a sense of location. Some Indigenous People are known for their navigational skills. The Kalahari San Bushmen can directly navigate to another destination from their current position.

A Kalahari San man gazes into the bush, perhaps planning his route to some other place. Anthropologists have found that the Kalahari bushmen are never lost. Wherever they are in their territory, they know where they are. They orient themselves by landmarks or terrain. In the diagram on the bottom right, imagine taking a journey that starts at Point A and ends at Point D. One way to return to Point A is to retrace the route you journeyed on. But the bushmen and other Indigenous people, who are deeply connected with their landscape, stand at Point D. They examine the landforms, such as a river and two prominent hills. Then, they choose a direction that takes them back to Point A using a much faster, shorter route. The bushmen must have absolute knowledge of how these landforms relate to their camp (Point A) and to one another, and how their position at Point D relates to home camp. ²¹

Signs That Show the Way

Indigenous People are more attuned to their environment (than we are) and use various cues to find their way. The direction of shadows, places where lichen and moss grow, and even the direction the wind blows, all help to orient the Indigenous wayfinder.

The Inuit of Canada use snow orientation to navigate in the barren landscape. This is one of the more interesting examples of noticing little things. The alignment of snow formations known as Sastrugi helps the Inuit maintain a consistent course. They do this even when changing directions and moving around obstacles. Sastrugi are parallel wave-like snow ridges formed when winds blow over the surface of the snow, especially in polar regions. I have also seen them on our Canadian prairies.

All landscapes possess subtle indicators to help us navigate. In the bottom left is an image of a sastrugi and a route out and back from your home or camp (shown as dashed lines). Once you turn around to return to camp, you must keep the sastrugi at the same angle as when you ventured out. Even the direction of the wind, especially in the Arctic and Canadian Prairies, can help travellers maintain a constant direction (provided it doesn’t change direction). When journeying through a landscape with few defining landforms, wind and snow formations become important indicators of direction.

Humans also made signs and left them on the landscape to mark the way. In the Arctic, the Inuit constructed several types of rock formations, known as inuksuit, each with its own distinct meaning.

There are many types of Inuit rock formations in the Arctic, some thousands of years old. The *nalunaikkutaq* is the most elementary inuksuit. It literally means ‘deconfuser’. It is made of a single upright stone placed on its end (right photograph of single rock standing on its end). It functions to provide direction or mark a specific location in the vast, treeless Arctic landscape. There are *Niungvaliruluit* (which means ”pointer like a window“), (left photograph of *nalunaikkutaq*, Inuksuk Point, Foxe Peninsula, Nunavut, Canada). Many other types act as directional or trail markers.

On the Great Plains of North America, archaeologists also find various types of rock formations made by Plains Indigenous Peoples. Some functioned as trail and directional markers. Unfortunately, many were destroyed when a great portion of the prairies was cultivated. According to Wyoming archaeologist Dr. George Frison, “It was said that the Crows left such piles [rocks] scattered along the route by which they migrated.“ According to Alberta archaeologist Dr. Brian Reeves, stone cairns found on “…the summit of the South Kootenai Pass were perhaps erected as trail markers for ceremonial purposes.” Donald J. Blakeslee and Robert Biasing note that on the central plains in Nebraska and Kansas, rock cairns are associated with many historic trails.

On the Great Plains stone cairns were constructed for animal drive lanes. Some were caches or animal traps, while others served ceremonial purposes. Still others marked trails or served as directional markers pointing the way to a particular destination or resource. In the photograph on the right, a line of rock cairns lies on the prairies near Empress, Alberta, Canada. ²²

Many historic trails were repeatedly used, leaving behind a visible track for others to follow. The earth would be trampled and disturbed. This was especially true with the use of the dog- or horse-drawn travois. It was a common mode of Indigenous transportation on the Great Plains. The tracks stay visible for years. Prairie and arctic ecology are quite sensitive to disturbance. They don’t heal very quickly.

Vegetation disturbed by trails and ruts made by wagons often takes many years to return to its normal state on the prairies. In Saskatchewan, Canada, Norman Henderson has conducted experiments to find out whether dog-drawn travois leave marks on the Prairie. ²³ He believes that the dog travois left no permanent marks on the prairie. However, the larger horse-drawn travois with heavier loads would have left some marks, especially when an entire band moved their camp.

When is a Map Not a Map?

In our book, Cartographic Poetry…, we refer to the five Plains Indigenous drawings as ‘Maps’. The simplest definition of a map is “a diagrammatic representation of an area of land or sea showing physical features, cities, roads, etc.” ²⁴ In our Western definition, then, these are maps. They are a two-dimensional representation showing the locations of physical features and trails familiar to the Blackfoot and Gros Ventre. Like any map ever made, this endeavour (of drawing a map) is subjective. The mapmaker includes items of personal interest or familiarity on the map. Many other details about that two-dimensional space are left out.

Maps show us where things are and how to find them. Most conventional maps (physical or digital maps) show visual information about the types of physical features and their precise locations. Not all maps inherently contain explicit location information that is universally readable without requiring more context or a key. To understand these Context-Dependent Maps, you must rely on information provided in legends, scale bars, accompanying text or verbal instructions. If you don’t have the key, the map makes no sense.

Thematic Maps are highly abstract and visual data or relationships rather than depicting precise geography. These would include Diagrammatic Maps. For example, a simple hand-drawn sketch can guide someone to a destination. It uses landmarks and general directions without incorporating any precise location coordinates.

A portion of a 1802 map of southern Alberta and Saskatchewan, Canada (left). This is an example of a *Physical or digital map that* has a coordinate system. It is attributed to British mapmaker Aaron Arrowsmith. It is also based on landforms found on the Blackfoot maps. Peter Fidler sent these maps to him. Like a modern map, with this map, you can use a compass to find the precise location of specific places from your current position. ²⁵The Ak Ko Wee Ak map (on the right) is considered a *Diagrammatic Map*. It contains geographical features and only an approximation of their locations. Note the position of *The King* on both maps. But is the Ak Ko Wee Ak map more than a rough sketch of southern Alberta and Saskatchewan? Could it also be a Concept-Dependent map, where we are missing the key? Some scholars think so. ²⁶

The Blackfoot and Gros Ventre maps depict the Great Plains landscape in the simplest form. They include features that were important to the individuals who drew them. They may represent Memory Places, as much as denoting locational information, to help connect Blackfoot culture and history to the land. Or, they may do both. Hence, the key to unlocking these maps may be to view the depicted landforms as a series of stories and history lessons. They span the Blackfoot landscape and are not merely navigational devices.

This historic star chart created by the Skiri Pawnee has baffled scholars for some time. This elk-skin map, dating back to the early 17th century, was initially thought to be a star map to help the Pawnee navigate. As researchers explored the chart’s deeper meanings, they now believe it is a storytelling device of Pawnee history. For the Pawnee, the sky holds more than just celestial bodies. *“…it reveals the intertwined knowledge of seasons, rituals, and the cosmos. The chart’s complexity challenges the way we think about maps, memory, and meaning itself.”* ²⁷

The Blackfoot and Gros Ventre maps may have similar functions as the Pawnee star chart. They connect Indigenous history and stories to places and landforms. According to some ethnohistorians and archaeologists, memory, “…explicitly incorporates the materiality of remembering through object and place (e.g., Meskell, 2003; Oetelaar, 2016). Scholars refer to this process as “memory work”…. because remembering requires that individuals engage in materially mediated social practices in order to make memories from experience, recall them, and transfer them to others. Memory work is discerning: certain experiences are best forgotten or stored while others are crucial to survival and cultural reproduction.” ²⁸

“…historic memory lives because it is firmly and purposefully anchored in places where events and cultural practices occurred, and in objects.” –Maria Nieves Zedeno, Evelyn Pickering, and Francois Lanoe ²⁹

Parts of the original Ki oo cus map (with modern revisions) shows parts of southern and central Saskatchewan and Alberta, Canada. This map covers an enormous area. But how much, and what types, of navigational information does this map convey?

Whenever I look at Ki oo cus’s map, I am surprised he left out certain landforms (which would have helped the Blackfoot navigate) and included others (which did not help the Blackfoot navigate). Why would he do this if the map was only a navigational device? ³⁰ Take, for example, Pakowki (#16), Sounding Lake (#32), and Manitou Lake (#31) depicted on the Ki oo cus map. The location of these lakes is inaccurate on his map when compared to a current map. They are not visible from any great distance, in this case, relative to Chesterfield House.

The vector position of the three lakes, relative to Chesterfield House on the Ki oo cus map, is shown by the black dashed arrows. The vector position (but not actual distance) of the three lakes on a contemporary map is shown by the solid blue arrows.

In other instances, he leaves out very prominent landforms, such as the Neutral Hills (which are 55 miles or 88.5km long, and approximately 180m high). Instead, he notes only the buffalo nose (#30), a prominent hill on the western end of the Neutral Hills. Many places on his map might act as a memory or gathering place. They are included because they are steeped in Blackfoot lore and knowledge.

The Neutral Hills, central Alberta, Canada, looking south (left). The *Buffalo Nose* (#30) on the Ki oo cus map (right). Both are prominent geographical features. Yet the lesser visible one is depicted on his map, while the other, larger, more prominent one is not.

A topographic map showing the Neutral Hills, the *Buffalo Nose* (Nose Hill) and Sounding Lake (#32 on Ki oo cus’s map). The red dots represent *known* archaeological sites in the region. A high density of sites are present across the Neutral Hill, including near the *Buffalo Nose*. Indigenous stories linked to all three places. All three are visible places, although Sounding Lake is the lesser of the three. Yet only Sounding Lake and the *Buffalo Nose* appear on Ki oo cus’s map. However, the Buffalo Nose may have been a better reference and preferred travel destination point than anywhere further east. By navigating to the *Buffalo Nose*, the Blackfoot would have avoided the more hilly terrain.

Maps help us navigate and find places. But a two-dimensional map among the Blackfoot, or those of other Indigenous Peoples in the world, was unnecessary to navigate:

“In our ways we had land maps. That how it was marked, the Blackfoot people used rivers, hills, and the mountains those are what we refer to [the Blackfoot people say] are lands maps–they are written on the earth.” — Blackfoot elder, Andy Black Water. ³¹

Nor was every place a reference point for navigation:

“People say that particular area is where someone received a gift or it was transferred to that person. We were pitied with a mysterious power from these sites [and we need to maintain those sites].” — Blackfoot elder, Andy Black Water ³²

These ‘particular’ places often evoked stories, such as the creation of the Blackfoot territory. ³³ Like the Australian Indigenous Peoples, sacred sites were also often (but not always) the primary references for navigation for the Blackfoot.

Many places on the Ki oo cus map had spiritual significance. Ground Squirrel Hill (#3 on the Ki oo cus map), south of Stettler, Alberta, Canada, was likely such a place (left photograph). On top of the hill, there once was a stone outline of Napi (now destroyed). Napi was a *Trickster* and aTransformer: “He made the Milk River (the Teton) and crossed it, and, being tired, went up on a little hill and lay down to rest. As he lay on his back, stretched out on the ground, with arms extended, he marked himself out with stones, —the shape of his body, head, legs, arms, and everything. There you can see those rocks today. . . .” ³⁴The Napi stone effigy that was placed on the top of Ground Squirrel Hill was Napi resting after creating the Blackfoot territory. It was placed there to remind people when they passed of their history, but also to help them know where they were and find their way.

What the Blackfoot Maps Tell Us About ‘Places’, Wayfinding and Navigation

Our conventional maps, and our reliance on them to navigate, really have no place in the Blackfoot world. The maps drawn for Peter Fidler were more for his benefit. The Blackfoot rightly claimed that the land was their map.

Despite this, is there anything we can glean from them about the importance of Blackfoot places and travel? I examine this question using the Ki oo cus map. This map covers an area of southern Saskatchewan, Alberta, and Montana (shown above).

To wayfind, we must remember places and describe them to others in a way they can recognize them. Ki oo cus uses descriptive names for many places on his map. Much like the Inuit of Arctic Canada, the names were purposely descriptive. This allowed others unfamiliar with those landforms to visualize them. They could then remember and easily find them. ³⁵

Many places on the Ki oo cus map have descriptive names, helping others find them. Verbal communication between individuals about the landscape is often an integral part of Indigenous navigation and wayfinding. The pictorial descriptions helped people recognize places they might never have been to before.“If you are an Inuk who understands the language,” said [Lynn] Peplinski, “…chances are you’ll be able to have a mental image of what that place looks like from the name.” ³⁶ Similarly, some of Ki oo cus’s descriptions of places are also informative. For example, Stinking Lake (#16), near Manyberries in southeastern Alberta, refers to Pakowki Lake, which contains a high amount of sodium sulfate and, at times, would have ‘stunk’. The Blackfoot also called it ‘bad water’. Further north, his map lists the *nose*, *body* and *tail* of the buffalo, referring to Buffalo Lake (#7), Tail Creek (#8) and buffalo nose (#30). All these places are located along the northern edge of Ki oo cus’s map in south-central Alberta, Canada. ³⁷

According to Practical Mastery Theory, familiarity with one’s landscape and specific landforms is part of successful navigation. Ki oo cus’s territory was mostly in southern Alberta and Saskatchewan. His travel routes suggest he journeyed as far south as the Judith Mountains in Montana. There are more recorded landforms and places located in the northern part of his territory than further south. This could be because he is more familiar with places in today’s Alberta and Saskatchewan, Canada. His band traveled there more often.

On the Ki oo cus map, approximately 85% of the places he notes are north of the Canada/USA border. This number continually increases from south to north on his map. The above map is a modern rendition of the original Ki oo cus 1802 map showing the places and their locations. ³⁸

Knowing which route to take to get from one place to another is essential for accurate navigation. Memorizing critical landmarks for guidance is also crucial. Ki oo cus shows several routes his people took to move through their territories. If the Blackfoot used these routes repeatedly, there likely would have been physical signs of this continual use on the landscape (i.e., stone cairns, tipi rings).

Nonetheless, Ki oo cus would also have used key landforms to help guide his band to their destination. Let’s take a part of his route north, starting at the Judith Mountains (#24), Montana, to Chesterfield House (located on the confluence of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers, Saskatchewan), as an example (see the route and map below). Leaving the Judith Mountains, his band travelled in a northerly direction, constantly watching for major landforms, such as the Highwood Hills, Bearspaw Mountains, Sweetgrass Hills and Cypress Hills, along the way. Ki oo cus, and other members of his band, would have memorized on what side of their route these major landforms should occur. He also kept track of the order they appear to stay on the right track.

Parts of the 1802 Ki oo cus map showing his route from the Judith Mountains to Chesterfield House. His route is shown as a series of small circles on the map. Each dot represents one day’s travel. Some of the landforms to keep him on track were visible from considerable distances. But if he used them to guide him to Chesterfield House, he would have had to memorize on which side of his route they occurred. His route takes him over/through the Cypress Hills, and not around them.

Many of Ki oo cus’s landmarks were visible from great distances. For example, the location of {**Cut to yis**} (the Sweetgrass Hills) can be seen from the western edge of the Cypress Hills looking south, approximately 90 kilometres away. If you look closely at this photograph, the Sweetgrass Hills are barely visible on the prairie horizon. Photograph by Ted Binnema. ³⁸

Stretching across the northern Great Plains of North America, there were many prominent landmarks that the Blackfoot people could see from a great distance while travelling on the plains. Judith Mountains (top left); Highwood Mountains (top right); Bearspaw Mountains (bottom left); Sweetgrass Hills, viewed from Writing-on-Stone National Park (bottom center) and the Cypress Hills (bottom right). The view from the top of the Cypress Hills is towards the west, showing the plains below and the Rocky Mountains in the hazy distance.

An aerial view of Ki oo cus’s route (dashed line) from the Judith Mountains to Chesterfield House. Note that the route is a relatively straight line towards the north to Chesterfield House. We noticed, while driving along parts of this route, that major landforms are rarely out of sight. As soon as one disappears, another comes into view. Note also on the Ki oo cus map, his band travels over/through the Cypress Hills on their way to Chesterfield House. If you were travelling with all your belongings and with the old and young, you would not want to travel over these hills. However, if you examine more carefully the topography of the Cypress Hills, there is a gap of prairie that is less rugged and lower between the hills. If Ki oo cus took this route through the gap, he would be aligned north to his destination, Chesterfield House. The Blackfoot referred to the Cypress Hills as the *Striped Earth Hills*, *Hills of Whispering Pine*, and *Divided Mountains*. All names are appropriate, but the last one is the most descriptive one for travelling through these hills.

Putting these landforms in the right order, as you travel along your route, is also important, especially if you are describing a route to someone else. The landmarks along Ki oo cus’s route from the Judith Mountains in Montana to the Buffalo Nose in Alberta occur in the same order as they do on a current topographic map (see map below).

The thirteen major landmarks, including rivers, on the Ki oo cus are all in correct order (from north to south or the opposite).

An aerial view of the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers, Alberta, Canada (top left). Chesterfield House, whose exact location remains a mystery, is located somewhere on the north side of the Red Deer River near the confluence of the two rivers. ³⁹ An aerial photograph of the Roy Rivers medicine wheel, also near the confluence of the two rivers (top right). As Ki oo cus’s band left Chesterfield House to travel north to the *Buffalo Nose*, it would have been virtually impossible to miss this landmark, which rests on top of the highest hill in the area. This medicine wheel also contained a stone Napi figure (bottom right). Napi figures, outlined in stone, occurred in many places in Blackfoot territory, such as the one near Cabri Lake, Saskatchewan, Canada, not far from the Roy Rivers medicine wheel. What is often perplexing about Ki oo cus’s maps is the many important places he leaves off them. Was it because this was not a ‘selective memory’ place for his people? Was the medicine wheel and effigy not his story to tell? Or did it even exist in 1802?

The white line indicates the general route taken by Ki oo cus on his way from Chesterfield House to the *Buffalo Nose* (top left). This route would have crossed mostly relatively flat terrain, as shown near the Misty Hills (bottom left; photograph courtesy of Ted Binnema). If his band had journeyed further east toward the Neutral Hills, they would have had to cross some very hummocky/hilly terrain. It was crucial to follow the easiest path where shelter and resources in the nearby hills and creeks were nearby and accessible. The *Buffalo Nose* was part of the Neutral Hills chain, stretching approximately 89km east-west, and was an imposing barrier, but rich in resources (top right and bottom right). They were not a solid formation (and similar in this regard to the Cypress Hills), but travelling on them would have been extremely arduous. Exactly what route Ki oo cus took to Manitou Lake is unknown. If it were from the *Buffalo Nose*, he would have followed the Neutral Hills east, but on either side of them, on the flatter terrain.

Indigenous choice of trails and travel routes needed to take terrain into account. Images of the Rumsey Natural Area, between Drumheller and Stettler, Alberta, Canada. This very hilly terrain contains natural shelter, abundant resources (water, wood and food), but would have been very difficult to travel through. Gopher Head Hill is located on the east edge of these hills (just west of Stonelaw, Alberta) and would have been easily accessible when travelling on the flatter prairies to the east.

Survey Knowledge, or the ability to estimate the correct distance and direction of landmarks and places from a fixed point and relative to one another, is the most difficult method of navigation to master. The Blackfoot maps contain distance and direction to particular places (relative to one another). And if we compare these places on a Blackfoot map to a modern map, they are rough estimates at best. Nor should we expect more, given the Blackfoot’s lack of instruments to accurately measure either one (i.e., an odometer for distance and a compass to determine accurate directions). Did the Blackfoot need to know a route with pinpoint accuracy? Did they need to know the precise location of places along it beforehand to navigate? I believe they did not, because their routes to various destinations were not using dead reckoning (i.e., from their location taking a direction in a straight line to destination and knowing how far away it was). Instead they relied on various landmarks and places to guide them in the right direction. ⁴⁰

The Blackfoot’s estimation of the distance between landmarks and places, or from any given place, was also very general, if you rely on the locations on the maps. But we may be misinterpreting what Ki oo cus’s idea of distance was. It certainly wasn’t any specific fixed spatial distance (e.g., miles, kilometres, leagues)

Ki oo cus portrays distance from one place to another by days’ march. To mark his major travel routes, he draws small circles that denote one day’s march on his map. One day’s march for the entire band meant how far everyone (young and old) could walk in one day, because not everyone had a horse to ride. The distance covered would have varied from day to day depending on the weather conditions and terrain. The circles only show the number of days walking or riding took between locations. They do not indicate how long the journey actually took. The band may have stopped at certain places for more than one day to recover, gather resources or conduct ceremonies.

This expanded part of Ki oo cus’s map shows *day’s march* from the Judith Mountains (#24) to Chesterfield House, and then continuing north to the *Buffalo Nose* (#30). It took him 10 days’ marches to travel from the Judith Mountains to Chesterfield House and then another 10 days’ march to travel from Chesterfield House to the *Buffalo Nose*. The distance from the Judith Mountains to Chesterfield House is ~421km, and the distance from Chesterfield House to the *Buffalo Nose* is only ~163km. However, on his map, he draws them a relatively similar distance apart. Is there a reason for this discrepancy?

The Blackfoot didn’t require precise distance knowledge because they measured everything in terms of a day’s march. Days’ march contained much more important information than the actual distance. The Blackfoot had no way of measuring distance accurately. Several places noted on Ki oo cus’s map are vastly different in distance when compared to a modern map. He portrays them as being equal in days’ marches. Was it because some routes were harder than others, taking longer to complete? To the Blackfoot, the length of time and energy it took for them to reach their destination was vital. ⁴¹

Comparison of Ki oo cus’s map to a modern map, showing his journey from the Judith Mountains in Montana, USA, to the *Buffalo Nose* in central Alberta, Canada. If we scale the modern map to his map between the Judith Mountains and Chesterfield House, and then to the *Buffalo Nose*, it is clear that distances (using Chesterfield House as the central point) on his map are relatively similar when in fact they are considerably different on a modern map. But the number of days’ march (from the Judith Mountains to Chesterfield House, and then Chesterfield House to the *‘Buffalo Nose*‘ are similar. Ki oo cus had to know quite accurately how long it would take his band to reach a certain destination, regardless of distance. Certain routes, or parts of routes, would have required more time and energy to traverse, perhaps explaining why he drew his maps in this manner. Is this a *time and energ*y map instead of a survey map showing exact distances? Is this the *KEY* to understanding his maps?

Ki oo cus’s method of estimating distance is not unique. For many Indigenous Peoples, time (often expressed as travel time) is often more important and a more natural measure than abstract, fixed distance or specific clock time. ⁴²

“…when asked for the distances between places they usually answered in terms of travel time, expressed as days or “sleeps.” And generally, when Indians provided explorers like Lewis and Clark with time-distance-direction information, that information was shaped by the Indians’ own experience.” –John L. Allen, Emeritus Professor of Geography, the University of Wyoming, Laramie ⁴³

TRAVEL ROUTE	DISTANCE (KIOOCUS MAP IN MM)/RANK ( )	DAYS’ MARCH	ACTUAL DISTANCE (KM)	ACTUAL DISTANCE RANK
Judith Mts. – Pakowki L.	85 (1)	10	240	2
Judith Mts. – Chesterfield H.	80 (2)	10	421	1
Chesterfield H. – Buffalo Nose	79 (3)	10	162	3
Sweet Grass Hills – Pakowki L.	17 (7)	4	47	7
Pakowki L. – Chin Coulee	26 (6)	5	88	5
Chesterfield H. – Sounding Creek	45 (4)	5	88	5
Sounding Creek – Buffalo Nose	35 (5)	5	72	6
Bearspaw Mts. – Sweet Grass Hills	35 (5)	5	118	4

In this table, using Ki oo cus’s map, I measured and ranked the distance of eight travel destinations, where there was sufficient and accurate data, and also the number of days’ marches on the map. While there is some sense of scale and distance between the Ki oo cus map and a contemporary map, there are also some considerable discrepancies between the two. These discrepancies can be explained best by considering Ki oo cus’s distances as time. They are understood as days’ march instead of actual distance (in miles or kilometres).

Allen also points out, using the 1804 Lewis and Clark expedition as an example, the importance of historical context or having the key to understanding Indigenous maps:

“Native movements in space—especially long-distance movements—were undertaken at certain times of the year. Therefore, when they gave directions with reference to sunset or sunrise, they understood those directions in terms of the sun’s path in the sky at the times of the year when they took their journeys.” — John Logan Allen. ⁴⁴

The diagram on the left (courtesy of John Logan Allen, *Indian Maps*) shows the difference in the position of the setting sun relative to a fixed point. If you are giving people directions relative to the setting sun and don’t specify the time of year, the amount of error in your directions would be considerable. The same error might occur when giving directions relative to the rising sun, as the photograph of the rising sun during each month of the year shows (right).

One of the major problems we have with the Indigenous maps is determining what specific frame of reference these Blackfoot leaders used when drawing their maps for Peter Fidler. Did they use days’ march to measure distance? Did they position the places on the maps based on certain times of the year? Did they visit them using the rising or setting sun to guide them? Or did some other constellation guide them? Unfortunately, Fidler did not record these details.

‘Sky Beings Guide Us’

The Blackfoot used celestial bodies for orientation, navigation, as a calendar, and storytelling. Eldon Yellowhorn is a Professor of Archaeology at Simon Fraser University. He talks about the strong connection between the night sky, his people, and the land: “Niitsitapi know our land through mental mapping, and that includes our sky country…. Archaeoastronomy is a subfield of archaeology that examines the way ancient people codified astronomical information in their folklore.” ⁴⁵

The Blackfoot knew of the North Star’s stationary position, which helped them find the cardinal directions and guide them. But exactly how did they use this information to navigate?

The North Star is in a fixed position over the north pole. If you turn or walk toward it, you are facing north. The angle of the north star, relative to the earth’s horizon, continually increases above the horizon as you travel further north. This change in the angle, however, is difficult to accurately measure without a sextant. And, it does not increase very much over great distances. In the diagram above, if the Blackfoot were camped in the Judith Mountains, Montana, the north star would be at an angle of roughly 47 degrees (relative to the earth’s horizon) above them. If they travelled north to Edmonton, Alberta (approximately a thousand kilometres further north), it would appear at 53.5 degrees above them – a minimal amount of difference to measure without an instrument. A simple way of measuring the angle is with an outstretched arm and clenched fist along the horizon. Each clenched fist width is about 10 degrees. Try it next time you’re out at night and see the North Star. ⁴⁶

The Blackfoot used the North Star to orient themselves to the cardinal directions. They also aligned landforms with the positions of other stars and constellations. The seasonal positions of certain star clusters, like the Pleiades cluster (Mioohpokoiksi or The Bunched Stars), were depicted on tipi flaps and in Blackfoot stories. This constellation moved throughout the year (and during the summer was absent in the northern sky). Its appearance and position helped determine specific times for certain activities. For example, it was used to decide when to travel to large-scale communal buffalo hunts in the fall.

Ak ko Wee Ak, for example, noted a buffalo jump (‘steep rock where buffalo break their neck’) on his map, which likely refers to Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump (#12). During the fall, then, was the position of the Pleiades (seen above the western horizon just before dawn), the direction his people took to reach Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump to begin their hunt? He knew the position of Head-Smashed-In relative to the west, but he also needed to know its position relative to a North-South direction. He could do this by using either the angle of the North Star to find out how far north or south he must travel before heading west, or find prominent landforms that were directly aligned north-south with Head-Smashed-In.

Ak Ko Wee Ak’s map (left) and a modern rendition of the area with his landmarks on it (right). Number 12 marks where the Blackfoot went to hunt buffalo in the fall. The position of the Pleiades in the western sky near dawn in the fall would have told his people when it was time to go to the bison jump and also guide them west toward their destination. They could have used numerous landmarks in their territory to determine their north-south position accurately to find Head-Smashed-In. If they were coming from the south, they needed to first find Chief Mountain. Chief Mountain is along the front range of the Rocky Mountains. It can be seen ~100km (60 miles) away on a clear day. From Chief Mountain, taking a route directly north, they would reach Head-Smashed-In on the southern edge of the Porcupine Hills (which reach ~1,000m above sea level and also could be seen from about 60-100km away).

The southern end of the Porcupine Hills and Head-Smashed-In buffalo jump rise high above the surrounding plains. These hills would have been visible from quite a distance (top left and right). Once you were near the majestic Chief Mountain and travelled due north, you would reach Head-Smashed-In. The total distance from Head-Smashed-In to Chief Mountain is approximately 75km, so you could see both landmarks from far away.

Without a compass, ruler, or protractor, it is difficult to measure and draw places accurately on a piece of paper. It is little surprise, then, when we examine the location of places on the Ki oo cus map relative to one another and to a modern map or satellite imagery, that they lack absolute accuracy. For some places, they are highly accurate, and for other places, less so. However, as in the case of distance, it wasn’t necessary to be within a few degrees of a destination when planning a route. One could use visual cues along the way for guidance. Additionally, utilizing either the sun at noon or the north star helped to orient oneself to the cardinal directions.

The location of four places on the Ki oo cus map (Manitou Lake, Buffalo Nose, Buffalo Lake, Gopher Head Hill), shown by the dotted yellow lines, superimposed on a modern satellite image in relation to the location of Chesterfield House on the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers (where Ki oo cus drew his map for Peter Fidler). Vectors drawn in solid black lines show the actual location of those places. When oriented to one fixed point (from Chesterfield House), such as Manitou Lake, the direction of some of the places, such as the *buffalo nose*, is quite accurate on Ki oo cus’s map. In others, they are merely approximations. ⁴⁷

The position of three places relative to Chesterfield House. Black solid arrows mark the actual position of these places on a contemporary map. The dashed arrows mark Ki oo cus’s positions of these places.

Navigation and the Human Experience

Humans developed incredible natural abilities to wayfind and navigate to their destinations. The techniques they used vary and depend on the nature of their environment, their cultural norms, and personal abilities.

Today, with our electronic navigation devices, are we losing some of that natural ability to find our way around? Many scientists think so.

As O’Connor points out, navigating and wayfinding are not just about finding your way from Point A to Point B. They build familiarity and connection with one’s surrounding environment. They create what she refers to as “treasure maps of exquisite memories”. Whether we walk, drive, or fly to our destinations, the journey and experiences along the way are becoming far less important than they once were.

The Blackfoot and other Indigenous Peoples throughout the world connected deeply with their environment. They constantly related to it by travelling through it. They also developed ‘exquisite memories’ or histories about certain places and landmarks surrounding them while travelling. ⁴⁸

For more details about each of these maps, please read our book, Cartographic Poetry. Examining Historic Blackfoot and Gros Ventre Maps (University of Alberta Press, Edmonton).

Ted Binnema, Francois Lanoe, Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 2025. University of Alberta Press[↩]
Wayfinding refers to the planning/decision-making part (e.g., choosing a route), while navigation entails the physical movement or execution of that plan.[↩]
For more information on these maps, readers can also refer to my CanEHdianstories.com blog entitled, “Historic Maps: Alberta Places Through the Eyes of a Siksika Mapmaker, Ki oo cus (Little Bear)”, where I examine one map in particular and a few of the historic Indigenous places shown on it.[↩]
At the outset, I must emphasize that wayfinding and navigation are universal human traits. We all do it and have done so throughout our human history. Yet, the ability to carry out these tasks effectively varies significantly among individuals. The strategies used also vary among different cultures and throughout history.[↩]
New York: St. Martins Press, 2019[↩]
Quote and photograph courtesy of SHAKA TRIBE. The Art of Polynesian Navigation: Exploring Ancient Seafaring Techniques[↩]
This map is courtesy of Judith Beattie. 1985. “Indian Maps in the Hudson’s Bay Company Archives: A Comparison of Five Area Maps Recorded by Peter Fidler, 1801 -1802.” Archivaria.[↩]
Source: HBCA E.3/2. fos. 106d-07; HBCA B.39/a/2 fo. 92d; HBCA B.39/a/2 fos. 85d-86. The bottom three modern renditions of these maps are from our book.[↩]
Eleanor A. Maguire, Katherine Woollett, and Hugo J. Spiers, “London Taxi Drivers and Bus Drivers: A Structural MRI and Neuropsychological Analysis,” Hippocampus 16, no. 12 (December 1, 2006): 1091–101, doi.org/10.1002/hipo.20233.[↩]
Even with modern GPS, the tests are still required. Known as “The Knowledge” test, requiring memorization of over 25,000 streets and landmarks, taking years to finish[↩]
Although there is no scientific evidence to prove this, I have wondered whether the hippocampus of pre-GPS Venetians was larger than the average Italian hippocampus.[↩]
M. R. O’Connor. Wayfinding. The Science and Mystery of How Humans Navigate the World. p.30.[↩]
The core of this idea comes from the French sociologist, Pierre Bourdieu.[↩]
Which begs the question: if you can’t read a map to help find your destination, how would you ever navigate and find you way without one?[↩]
From: “Lecture 2 – Can you trust your memories?” Quizlet. https://quizlet.com/gb/325532459/lecture-2-can-you-trust-your-memories-flash-cards/[↩]
Here is an excerpt from O’Connor about Australian Aboriginal oral history: “But even the most conservative estimate makes Aboriginal oral history the oldest in the world. Until very recently, there was a consensus that the longest time period that human memories can be transmitted between generations before their meaning has completely changed or become obscured from the original is five hundred to eight hundred years. But in 2016, two Australian researchers published a paper in the journal Australian Geographer that upended this idea. Patrick Nunn and Nicholas Reid recorded stories from twenty-one locations around coastal Australia, from the Gulf of Carpentaria in the north to Kangaroo Island in the south. In each place they found stories about a time when parts of the coastline now under the ocean were actually dry land. The researchers matched the stories to geological evidence of post-glacial sea-level rise. It seems that these stories have been repeated from one generation to the next for a minimum of seven thousand years, but possibly for as long as thirteen thousand years and represent “some of the world’s earliest extant human memories.” Nunn and Reid explain these nearly unbelievable figures by pointing to several characteristics of Aboriginal culture that elucidate how such a faithful oral transmission was made possible. They point to the great value Aboriginal people place on precision in telling stories “right.”[↩]
Hercus, Luise, Jane Simpson, and Flavia Hodges. The Land Is a Map: Placenames of Indigenous Origin in Australia. Canberra: ANU Press, 2009. http://www.oapen.org/search?identifier=459353.[↩]
https://pawneeland.wordpress.com/2016/11/13/the-moon-magic/ “…a Skidi [Pawnee] man called Taihipirus had been blessed by Spider Woman as a youth, and he had grown up with “womanish ways.” Becoming respected as a war leader, he took an expedition into the south of Pawneeland and there they were driven onto Pawnee Rock by a vast coalition of “ten or eleven tribes” who encamped around the hill….The Skidis endured great thirst, and one night Taihipirus received a vision from Spider Woman. He watched her come down her rope from the moon, and she told him about a “great rock” that could be moved to one of the sheer edges of the hill. Following Spider Woman’s instructions, Taihipirus and his companions escaped by tying together their ropes and attaching them to the stone.” From: A narrative of the Pawnee Buttes told by Roaming Scout. This version was written in Pawneeland. History of the Pawnee Nation and Beyond. November 13, 2016. The Moon Magic.[↩]
The Story Behind Aboriginal Body Art. Posted by Mbantua Gallery on 2021 Mar 08th. (https://mbantua.com.au/aboriginal-art-blog/the-story-behind-aboriginal-body-art/?srsltid=AfmBOoqlPeVFE-WSbZHvNNHlC2KIeHADuqFLC1eJ7vuKyNCMWXh3hsUj[↩]
From: Seeing the Inside: Bark Painting in Western Arnhem Land. 1996. Clarendon Press, Oxford.[↩]
Anthropologist Thomas Widlok experimented to determine the accuracy of Kalahari Bushmen navigation. In O’Connor’s own words:“The Hai||om, a group of about fifteen thousand people living in the Kalahari Basin, and other San groups had a reputation for nearly mythical powers of navigation. Widlok had read the literature documenting these skills. One hunter claimed that his San guide’s sense of direction was better than his handheld GPS device. Widlok also knew that during the border war in Angola and northern Namibia in the mid-twentieth century, the South African Army had created what was an elaborate ideology around these skills and exploited them to track down their enemies in the bush. Widlok knew from his experience that the Hai||om could accomplish orientation tasks that seemed impossible to him, such as easily locating places they had never been before. But how much did the language of the Hai||om play a role in these skills? Widlok took a GPS to the Mangetti-West region and began a study, accompanying six men, three women, and a twelve-year-old boy into the savanna, walking anywhere from nine to twenty-five miles. Widlok asked them to point to twenty different places ranging from a mile to over a hundred miles away. The visibility across the bush was around twenty yards, and there were no landmarks to be seen. Show me where X is from here, Widlok would ask, and then he noted the direction they pointed in and compared their estimates to his GPS reading. Again and again, Widlok found that the Hai||om’s dead reckoning skills were statistically barely different from the Guugu Yimithirr study group.” From: O’Connor, p.110[↩]
Photograph courtesy of Margaret Kennedy and Brian Reeves. From: “Stone Feature Types as Observed at Ceremonial Site Complexes on the Lower Red Deer and the Forks of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers with Ethnohistorical Discussion.”[↩]
Norman Henderson. 1994. “Replicating Dog Travois Travel on the Northern Plains.” Plains Anthropologist Vol. 39, No. 148:145-159.[↩]
Oxford Dictionary[↩]
Even by the turn of the 19th century, Western maps such as Aaron Arrowsmith’s were not entirely accurate. While the latitude of landforms was relatively accurate, their longitude was often not very reliable.[↩]
At the annual 2024 Plains Anthropology Conference, held in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, Dr. Gerry Oetelaar from the University of Calgary argued that parts of the Ak Ko Wee Ak map were a metaphor for a tipi. He suggested that the rivers represented the lodge’s poles and not just as a purely locational map.[↩]
From: IDR News. “This Ancient Native American Star Chart Holds a Mysterious Secret That Has Experts Stumped.” https://indiandefencereview.com/this-ancient-native-american-star-chart-holds-a-mysterious-secret-that-has-experts-stumped/[↩]
“Oral tradition as emplacement: Ancestral Blackfoot memories of the Rocky Mountain Front.” Journal of Social Archaeology. June 2021: Maria Nieves Zedeno, Evelyn Pickering, and Francois Lanoe[↩]
From: “Oral tradition as emplacement: Ancestral Blackfoot memories of the Rocky Mountain Front.” Journal of Social Archaeology. June 2021: Maria Nieves Zedeno, Evelyn Pickering, and Francois Lanoe[↩]
Low lying landforms like lakes are poor navigational devices because they are not easily visible from a distance.[↩]
From: Mirau, N. and D. First Rider. 2009. South Saskatchewan Regional Plan (SSRP) Traditional Use Studies Project. Prepared for Alberta Environment, Lethbridge, Alberta[↩]
From: The Blackfoot Confederacy Nations of Alberta in association with Arrow Archaeology Limited. December 2017. Traditional Use Studies Project. Prepared for Alberta Environment, Lethbridge, Alberta[↩]
For more on this subject, readers should refer to: “Oral tradition as emplacement: Ancestral Blackfoot memories of the Rocky Mountain Front.” Journal of Social Archaeology. June 2021: Maria Nieves Zedeno, Evelyn Pickering, and Francois Lanoe[↩]
Indigenous Napi story first recorded by Grinnell GB. 1962. Blackfoot Lodge Tales. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.[↩]
Blackfoot language (Siksikaitsitapi) is highly descriptive, allowing speakers to visualize concepts. It also encodes rich cultural values, relationships, and detailed environmental observations, often creating imagery that English translations can’t capture. It’s an action-based language with unique grammar that reflects the worldviews and history of the Niitsitapi (Blackfoot people.[↩]
From: O’Connor, p.64-65[↩]
I have always felt, but can’t prove it, that referring to many buffalo names and parts of the animal across the parkland-prairie transition is symbolic of the many bison herds that would have journeyed to the Alberta parklands during certain times of the year.[↩]
From: Cartographic Poetry. Examining Historic Blackfoot and Gros Ventre Maps. Ted Binnema, Francois Lanoe, Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 2025. University of Alberta Press.[↩][↩]
For more information regarding our search for this fort(s), refer to: Heinz W. Pyszczyk and Gabriella Prager. 2023. “Peter Fidler’s Long Lost Chesterfield House: Have We Finally Found It?” In Saskatchewan Archaeology Quarterly. Volume 7:60-67.[↩]
Because of terrain dead reckoning to many destinations would have been impractical if not impossible. For example, Ki oo cus would have had to cross major rivers and streams along most of the routes. His band could only cross them at certain spots. They needed to maintain a certain direction along their route to do so.[↩]
The other possible explanation may relate to how the Blackfoot travelled from Chesterfield House to each of these opposite destinations. Did one group travel with only warriors by horse to the Judith Mountains? Did the other group travel to the Buffalo Nose with the entire band?[↩]
If I’m given a distance to a destination, the first thing I would ask is how long it would take to get there.[↩]
From: John L. Allen. Indian Maps. https://lewis-clark.org/sciences/geography/mapping-unknown-lands/Indian-spatial-concepts/[↩]
Indian Maps. https://lewis-clark.org/sciences/geography/mapping-unknown-lands/indian-spatial-concepts/[↩]
From: Jolynn Parenteau. 2023. “Miywasin Moment: Guiding Lights.” Medicine Hat News.[↩]
The size of people’s fists is roughly proportional to the length of their arms. A child with a small fist and small arm will measure approximately 10 degrees. An adult with a larger fist and longer arm also measures 10 degrees from their point of view.[↩]
Could you sit down and draw the directions of places familiar to you, relative to one another, more accurately? Probably not, but you still would find those places while navigating your landscape. The locational inaccuracies on the map doesn’t necessarily equate to a poor knowledge of those places when navigating.[↩]
We still do this to some extent in our modern world, but less and less so. Whenever you take a walking tour through an unfamiliar city or landscape, your guide will point out certain places and tell stories about them. As I walk past the old Clarke Stadium grounds in Edmonton, Alberta, I share stories with others, how the great quarterback Warren Moon, then playing with the Edmonton Eskimos, lit up visiting teams in the Canadian Football League at this particular place.[↩]

June 4, 2025June 4, 2025

OUR NEW BOOK RELEASE: Cartographic Poetry. Examining Historic Blackfoot and Gros Ventre Maps

Cartographic Poetry spine and back cover

MY JOURNEY WITH THIS WORK

In 2010 I attended the annual Alberta Archaeological Society Conference in the then-old Royal Alberta Museum, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Historian, Ted Binnema, from the University of Northern British Columbia, presented a paper about historic Plains Blackfoot maps. His talk fascinated me, especially one of the maps, drawn by Blackfoot leader Ki oo cus (Little Bear) for explorer and trader Peter Fidler in 1801. This map covers a vast territory and traversing it either by foot or horseback seemed almost unimaginable. It stretched from Buffalo Lake Alberta south of Edmonton to Montana in the United States, from the Saskatchewan – Alberta border to the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Ted had been researching these maps since 2000. He wanted to identify the places Ki oo cus had marked on them and their significance to the Blackfoot People.

I was hooked. I began searching for the landmarks on Ki oo cus’s map and whether any archaeological sites were associated with them. Ted and I corresponded and shared our knowledge about the maps and for many years that’s how things stood. It wasn’t until 2020 that Francois Lanoe, University of Arizona, who was also interested in the Blackfoot and Gros Ventre maps, suggested we collaborate and publish our research.

THE BOOK, ‘CARTOGRAPHIC POETRY’, UNIVERSITY OF ALBERTA PRESS

The photograph on the front cover of our book is taken from the UNESCO World Heritage Site, Áísínai’pi (Writing-on-Stone), Alberta, Canada, looking southeast toward the Cut to yis (Sweetgrass Hills) in Montana. These hills, depicted on several Blackfoot maps were of considerable significance to the Blackfoot People, as was Writing-on-Stone. The second image above is on the back cover of the book. It shows the highly revered Nin nase tok que (Chief Mountain), Montana, U.S.A.

Below is an example of one of the Blackfoot maps. Ki oo cus drew this one for Peter Fidler in 1801 while at the Hudson’s Bay Company Chesterfield House which stood near the confluence of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers. I was confused when I first saw this map. It wasn’t to scale and I was’t unaccustomed to viewing a map where only landforms were depicted. I realized how reliant we have become on our roads and signs to travel. We no longer depended on landmarks to guide us. We no longer connected to the land as the Blackfoot did with their stories about these places.

Ki oo cus map of 1801, drawn for Peter Fidler in his notebook. I have previously written a blog about this map and the places it depicts for anyone interested in more details. Source: HBCA B.39/a/2 fos. 85d-86.

Authors’ translation of Ki oo cus Map. Map by authors.

When Ted proposed as part of the book’s title, Cartographic Poetry, I was baffled. What did these maps have to do with poetry? Ted, however, explained that “Poetry is language condensed; Blackfoot cartography is landscape distilled.” When you first view the maps you will see that they are minimalist, to say the least. They contain only the places the Blackfoot found important for finding their way in their territories. They remembered them by anchoring their stories to them.

We photographed some places depicted on these maps for this book. When I first stood on top of Omahkokata (Gopher Head Hill) south of Stettler, Alberta, I was transfixed by the beautiful vista stretching out around me. For the Blackfoot, this hill meant much more than a beautiful view. Here once rested a stone Napi (old man) figure and perhaps with it a story, both now lost, that tied the Blackfoot People to this hill.

I hope you enjoy our book.

Photo 12A. {**Omahkokata**} (Gopher Head Hill, Ground Squirrel Hill). Although it rises only about 55 metres above the surrounding plains, Gopher Head Hill was important for wayfinders travelling through the undulating plains of the region because it could be seen from afar. Photo by T. Binnema.

Photo 12B. {**Omahkokata**} (Gopher Head Hill, Ground Squirrel Hill). The fact that an ancient stone effigy (destroyed several decades ago) was constructed atop Gopher Head Hill suggests that the location was a destination as well as a landmark. Springs around the base of the hill may have attracted humans and animals to the location. The hill offers unobstructed views in all directions. In this photograph, {**Oo chis chis**} (the ‘Hand Hills’) can be seen on the horizon about 40 kilometres south. Photo by T. Binnema.

April 15, 2025April 15, 2025

HOW TO MAKE A STONE MAUL? IS THE MYSTERY IS FINALLY SOLVED?

I’ve written four previous blogs about making a grooved stone maul. Readers should refer to those blogs for more details regarding this first part of my experiment. In this blog, with the help of my colleague, Mr. Bob Dawe, Royal Alberta Museum, I present our latest results on how to make a stone maul by pecking the groove.

For centuries First Nations Peoples, living on the Great Plains of North America, used the grooved stone maul to smash animal bones, plant matter, and wood.

“The hammers were of two sorts: one quite heavy, almost like a sledgehammer or maul, and with a short handle: the other much lighter, and with a longer, more limber handle. This last was used by men in war as a mace or war club, while the heavier hammer was used by women as an axe to break up fallen trees for firewood; as a hammer to drive tent-pines into the ground, to kill disabled animals, or break up heavy bones for the marrow they contained.” ¹

Some Facts About Stone Mauls from Alberta, Canada

Stone mauls are the most common pecked/ground stone tool type;
Functioned as hammers for pounding meat, berries, deadwood, rocks…and heads;
159 archaeological sites in Alberta contain stone mauls on the sites’ surfaces;
Stone mauls are rarely found during excavations; many are present in farmers’ collections;
They are as old as c.10,000 B.P. (before present) but most mauls come from the Late Prehistoric Period;
They are mostly found on the Canadian prairies and parklands; rarely in northern Alberta.
In Alberta, approximately 63% of mauls are made from quartzite. ²

I attempted to make a quartzite stone maul, similar to those used by First Nations Peoples on the Great Plains, by grinding the groove with a quartzite flake. These experiments show that it is possible to make a stone maul using this method. But it takes considerable time and effort.

Is grinding a groove using a quartzite flake the best and most efficient method of making a stone maul? Not according to my latest experiments.

My Previous Experimental Results

Grinding my quartzite stone maul with a quartzite flake. Although the grinding process works, it is slow, strenuous, and tedious. Was there another more effective way of making a grooved stone maul?

The Final Grinding Results

After 30 hours of grinding, I removed 19 grams (0.67oz) of material from the maul.
Groove maximum width was ~11mm;
Maul groove maximum depth was ~5mm.

The slow, steady progress of grinding a groove into the hard quartzite cobble. It took thirty hours to make a groove on only one side of the maul. I estimate it would take another thirty-fifty hours to finish the maul using this method.

IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG HERE?

I initially rejected the idea of pecking the quartzite maul groove because I believed the stone was too hard for this method to be effective. However, I decided to try it for at least one to two hours. I ended up pecking the groove for five hours. Here are the results:

Hammerstone and new quartzite maul blank in the left photograph. Hammerstone after one hour of pecking, center photograph. Pecking away on the new quartzite stone maul blank. Maul blank weight before starting = 0.991kg (2.2lbs). Hammerstone weight before starting = 290gms (0.64lbs). I did not haft the hammerstone to peck the groove for the maul. When we presented this paper at the annual Plains Archaeological Conference in Lethbridge, Alberta last fall, a colleague suggested that a hafted hammerstone worked even better for pecking the maul. In my next experiment, I will use a hafted hammerstone to peck the maul groove to determine whether this method is more efficient.

The Results from Pecking a Groove for a Maul

Pecking Versus Grinding

Pecking = 24 grams of material removed in 5 hours.

Grinding = 19 grams of material removed in 30 hours.

Pecking is more than six times more efficient than grinding the groove for a stone maul.

The Archaeological Evidence

In a small sample of prehistoric grooved mauls from Alberta and Saskatchewan, microscopic examination demonstrates the maul grooves were made by pecking, not grinding. The following slides show no smoothening or striations on the sample of stone mauls we examined. In every case, the groove texture is characterized by pitting from impacting and plucking grains from the matrix.

Conclusions

Grooved stone mauls are not ground stone tools.

Grinnell, G. b. 1986:22. Blackfoot Lodge Tails; The Story of a Prairie People. Scribner, New York.[↩]
All facts from: Kristine Fedyniak and Karen L. Giering. 2016. More than meat: Residue analysis results of mauls in Alberta. In: Back on the horse: Recent developments in archaeological and palaeontological research in Alberta. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SURVEY OF ALBERTA OCCASIONAL PAPER No. 36.[↩]

March 28, 2025March 28, 2025

A CHINOOK’S A’COMIN: A LOOK AT CANADA’S FIERCE PRAIRIE WINDS

Hundreds of media stories have been written about Canada’s Prairie Chinooks. Few, however, delve into how plants, animals and humans may have adapted to them or used them to their advantage over the centuries.

A Chinook arch in the skies over Calgary, Alberta, Canada. The arch is one of the first signs that a Chinook is about to roll over the prairies. Hang onto your hats…

A Chinook wind, named after the Chinook First Nations People of the upper and middle Columbia River region, or ‘snow eater,’ roars down the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. It creates high winds and rapid temperature changes to the Canadian Prairies.

When it first happened, I was about four years old, growing up on a farm north of Portreeve, Saskatchewan, Canada. I awoke in the middle of a winter night to the most ungodly, ghastly noise outside. The farmhouse shook, the windows rattled, and the wind howled. I was terrified, never having experienced a winter Chinook before – a name given to the Canadian prairies’ strong winter winds, sometimes reaching speeds of over 100 mph.

The following day, when I looked outside, the foot or more of snow covering the ground was replaced by puddles of water and sheets of polished ice. I remember my father not going out to feed the cattle because they could easily find the prairie grasses again.

What Are Chinooks?

A Chinook is a warm, dry wind that blows off the slopes of mountain ranges and reaches tremendous speeds as it flows over the plains. In other parts of the world, this wind is called a Foehn (Germany), Zonda (Argentina), Berg (South Africa), and Asi’kssopo, which means ‘warm wind’ (Blackfoot).

This diagram shows how Chinooks are formed and what happens when they reach the Canadian prairies. Image courtesy of CanadaWest Foundation: https://cwf.ca/research/publications/five-facts-about-chinooks-natures-gift-to-calgary/.

Where do Canada’s Chinooks Occur?

Chinooks are not entirely a Canadian phenomenon. They occur along the front range of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta, as far south as Colorado, and also in Washington State, blowing off the Cascade Mountains and Nevada (rolling down the east side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains).

While Chinook winds may not be entirely Canadian, their frequency of occurrence is highest in southwestern Alberta. On average, in the Lethbridge area, thirty-five days have temperatures greater than 40F (4.4C) during December, January and February (the meteorological definition of a Chinook). Chinooks will reach east into Saskatchewan and Manitoba. I have seen well-formed Chinook ridges in the Edmonton area where I live, but they were never accompanied by the high winds that occur further south. As the diagram on the right shows, pockets of high frequencies of Chinooks occur along the Rocky Mountains, even as far north as Grande Prairie, Alberta. ¹ There are reports of Chinooks reaching as far east as Wisconsin. The image on the left, courtesy of OPENSNOW: https://opensnow.com/news/post/chinook-winds-explained.

On its way to the plains, a Chinook arch forms over the Canadian Rockies, where temperatures can rapidly change in mere minutes. Image courtesy of, LiveScience (https://www.livescience.com/58884-chinook-winds.html)

A Few Fascinating Facts About Chinooks

Chinooks bring sudden relief from the cold during Canada’s winter months. Temperatures can change by 20C or more in a few hours. Chinook winds can reach over 150kmph (~100mph) and last a few hours or days. However, in Alberta, these winds range from 16kmph (10mph) to 60kmph (37.5mph), although gusts can reach over 100kmph.

At their extreme, Chinook winds have set some mind-boggling meteorological records. For example, in 1962 in Pincher Creek, Alberta, the temperature changed 41C in one hour. Over the years, Chinooks have set several world records:

•World record for the most extreme temperature change in 24 hours: Loma, Montana in 1972, the temperature increased from −54 to 49 °F (−48 to 9 °C), a 103 °F (57 °C) temperature change;

•World record for fastest increase in temperature: Spearfish, South Dakota, 1943, the temperature increased from −4 to 45 °F (−20 to 7 °C), a 49 °F (27 °C) change in two minutes;

•World record for the fastest decrease in temperature: Spearfish, South Dakota, 1943, the temperature decreased from 54 to −4 °F (12 to −20 °C), a 58F (32C) change in 27 minutes.

How Old Are Chinooks?

Chinooks affect weather, plants, animals, and humans. But how long has this been going on? As a historian/archaeologist, I have wondered when did these winds first blow across the Canadian Prairies? And how did they affect humans living on the Canadian Prairies several hundred or thousands of years ago (assuming Chinooks were already present long ago)?

I asked a former colleague, Dr. Alwynne Beaudoin, a paleoecologist at the Royal Alberta Museum, whether Chinooks were a recent or ancient phenomenon. According to Beaudoin, a leading expert on paleoenvironments in Alberta, no one is certain since Chinooks leave little or no trace in the paleoenvironmental records.

“I can’t come up with a definitive answer – but I suspect the Chinook pattern would have been established early in the deglaciation process and probably became more intensified as deglaciation proceeded.” (Dr. Alwynne Beaudoin, paleoecologist, Royal Alberta Museum)

Dr. Beaudoin goes on to specify that because of the lack of research and data, the following points about the genesis of Canadian Chinooks are currently speculative:

The topography (Rocky Mountain range) that promotes the formation of the Chinook would be the same during glaciation (though mostly submerged by ice) and deglaciation (becoming more pronounced as the ice melted). However, the synoptic situation (wind patterns) that permitted the Chinooks to occur would be different;
The high pressure over the Laurentide Ice Sheet would have resulted in outward clockwise air circulation from the center of the Ice Sheet (see diagram below). This would have deflected the westerly airflow (from the Pacific) to the south. In addition, the ocean circulation in the North Pacific would have been different from that of today, and probably colder – it’s the generally warm surface water in the North Pacific that fuels the moisture brought by the Chinook;
The southwest margin of the Laurentide ice sheet (a thick sheet covering all of Alberta at its maximum 12,000+ years ago) melted back quickly. Was that because the Chinook became re-established early in the deglaciation process and helped promote rapid melting along the southwest margin of the Laurentide Glacier? It would certainly seem to help account for the rapid deglaciation;
According to Catherine Yansa ² the plains along the mountainfront in southwestern Alberta were not ever forested, and the effect of the Chinook could be part of the explanation for that (as well as the rain-shadow effect).

The position of Wisconsin glaciation at 12,000 and 9,000 years ago shows the maximum extent of the Cordilleran and Laurentide ice sheets, the position of the high-pressure system, the prevailing wind direction and the position of Picea (spruce). Figures, courtesy of: James C. Richie and Glen M. MacDonald. 1986. The Patterns and Post-glacial Spread of White Spruce. *Journal of Biogeography* 13: 527-546.

And, there you have it. No one is certain because the clues to when the first Chinooks appeared are subtle and difficult to acquire. However, Beaudoin makes a valid point: As soon as the ice receded the Rocky Mountains were exposed (likely c.11,000 years or longer) and the Pacific Ocean currents warmed, the potential for Chinooks to invade the western Canadian Prairies was present.

The Effect of Chinooks on Plants, Animals, and Humans

Chinooks bring reprieve from our cold, snow-laden Alberta winters. They also create drought and wind erosion. It is no coincidence that the part of southern Alberta having the highest number of Chinooks per year is also one of the driest places on the Canadian Prairies. There’s little or no spring runoff in this area since there’s no accumulation of snow, and evaporation rates throughout the year are high.

Let’s examine how humans adapted to or took advantage of the Chinook winds. Large herbivores, such as bison and elk, were well adapted to deal with the harsh North American winters and would have benefitted from the more open grasslands in the winter. Did the Chinooks attract more bison and elk during the winter months? And also humans?

“To the people inhabiting the vast interior this Chinook has ever been a joy and a mystery. When snows lay deep, and lakes were ice-bound and Indians herds were famishing, the aborigines, from the Mandan of Dakota to the Yakima and the Walla Wallas, sought to welcome this great spirit by incantations and long continued dances. If after years the white herdsman desponding as he saw his horses and cattle dying on the frozen snows, found cheer and returning fortune in its warm and melting breath.” (The Sheridan Post, 1908)

Many newspaper excerpts like the one above from Sheridan, Wyoming, all along the Chinook Belt of the American and Canadian Rockies describe the merits and mysteries of these winds. How did First Nations People and later White settlers cope with or take advantage of these winds?

The Plains bison, the largest herbivore in North America, was well-suited to dealing with the harsh mid-continental winters. First thought to have migrated further south during the winter in North America, it is now believed the animals moved into sheltered areas, such as the foothills, river valleys, and parklands, during severe winter weather. ³

Large herbivores, like the Plains Bison, are well adapted to North America’s mid-continental climates and roamed this region in the millions. But even these animals benefitted from the warming winds in the winter, which reduced the snow and made grazing easier. Did these periodic winds attract more bison in the winter months, and if so, did they also attract the First Nations people who relied heavily on this animal as their primary food source?

“…the snow was deepening and the weather becoming colder… we thought it would bring the wild herds nearer to the foothills….The cold was intense and the buffalo were steadily heading for the hills…We could see the herds moving westward…” (John McDougall, Morley Mission, west of Calgary Alberta in 1876.) ⁴

McDougall’s Morley Mission was located in the heart of Chinook country and near the foothills where the bison herds found shelter and less snow cover.

Even when further out on the plains and not within easy walking distance to the foothills, both bison and humans sought shelter in the major river valleys and coulees in extreme winter conditions. ⁵

Prehistoric Alberta and Chinooks

How did First Nations Peoples react and adapt to Chinooks in Alberta? Would they have taken advantage of the milder weather and followed the grazing animals into the Chinook zone? The big problem when positing this question is finding the evidence to examine it.

Humans would not only be attracted to areas with more game animals, such as bison, but they would also benefit from wintering in areas having less snow and fewer cold days. Archaeologist Neil Marau (Arrow Consultants Ltd.) has worked extensively with Blackfoot informants to record their historic seasonal movements in southern Alberta.

Marau and other archaeologists and Blackfoot elders believe that Chinooks played a key role in the Blackfoot seasonal round and were important in deciding where to camp in the winter:

“These river valleys had plentiful wood and other plant resources. Probably more importantly, both rivers are in the Chinook belt of southwestern Alberta and provided good wintering habit for bison. Bison in southern Alberta tended to move toward and into the foothills as winter approached, especially to areas such as the region around Okotoks and south where occasional to frequent chinooks that cleared or reduced snow cover from important grazing lands.” (Archaeologist Neil Marau, talking about the Blackfoot seasonal round). ⁶

These two maps show the annual seasonal round of two Blackfoot bands. On the map on the left, location #1 marks the winter campsite in the Sheep-Highwood River area, near present-day Okotoks, Alberta. On the map on the right, location #1 marks the winter campsite along the Marias River in Montana. Both wintering sites contained abundant wood, water and shelter from the blizzards, and both were located in the high Chinook area along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Both maps are based on Blackfoot oral history and are further supported by historical accounts and archaeological evidence. ⁷

Other major rivers, such as the Oldman River, running west out of the foothills of the Rocky Mountains onto the southern Alberta Plains, were popular wintering areas for both First Nations Peoples and the Plains bison.

Two maps of Indigenous archaeological campsites, southern Alberta, Canada. Both maps show a high frequency of archaeological campsites present along major rivers and creeks running out of the Rocky Mountains onto the Prairies. The map on the right shows the high frequency of archaeological campsites (mostly prehistoric) located along the Sheep River, which, according to the historical evidence (oral, documentary, archaeological), was a favourite wintering area for the Blackfoot in Alberta’s Chinook Belt. Readers should note that these maps do not depict all archaeological sites in these regions, only where surveys have been conducted. But clearly, southern Alberta river systems near the foot of the Rocky Mountains have high archaeological site frequencies.

As we step back in time, the number of archaeological campsites in southern Alberta decreases, and there are fewer sites along large river systems. But by the Middle Prehistoric Period (c.7,800 – 1,800 B.P.), relatively more archaeological sites begin to appear along those river systems.

As we move further away from the Chinook Belt, the frequency of archaeological sites in all three time periods decreases. ⁸

The above maps represent the three periods for prehistoric archaeological sites in Alberta. The dots represent archaeological sites that have been dated to specific periods (many other sites exist that could represent each period but have not been dated and therefore are not included on these maps). I have superimposed the intensity of winter chinooks over these maps and then divided the southern part of the province into eastern and western segments (shown by the dashed lines). In all three periods, the proportion of archaeological sites is higher in the west versus the east segment. The number of archaeological sites in the Chinook Belt is highest and decreases further away from them. Despite the problem that this is a biased spatial archaeological sample, there is a strong association between the Chinook Belt and relatively higher archaeological site density. Coincidence? Perhaps. Only more detailed archaeological research will determine whether this spatial pattern is a function of archaeological survey methods or a preponderance of sites found in the Chinook Belt.

The Protohistoric-Historic Period and the Arrival of the Horse

Tsuut’ina Travois and Tipi.
Astokumi (Crow Collar) and wife, Tsuut’ina people.
(Courtesy Bourne collection, McCord Museum/McGill University)

Once First Nations People in southern Alberta adopted the horse around c. 1720 A.D., the warming Chinook winter winds in the province may have become even more critical. Horses, unlike bison or elk, weren’t as capable of surviving in Alberta’s harsh winters. Here are a few historical facts about horses on the western Great Plains:

Eastern grain-fed horses could not withstand Alberta winters. For example, during the winters in the 1830s at Fort Edmonton (North Saskatchewan River), conditions were so bad that the fort’s horses were starving and dying despite being fed hay;
According to American ethnologist John Ewers’ Blackfoot sources, the horse will starve in four days without food;
Ewers’ Blackfoot informants told him that the women would peel off the inner bark of the cottonwood to feed their horses in the winter if conditions became severe;
According to American trapper and frontiersman William Ashley: “When the round leaf or sweet bark cottonwood can be had abundantly, horses may be wintered with but little inconvenience. They are fond of this bark, and, judging by the effect produced from feeding it to my horses last winter, I suppose it almost, if not quite as nutritious as timothy hay.”

Given the necessity of finding suitable wintering pastures for horses, how did the Chinook Belt factor into the selection of winter camping areas and travel? While the horse allowed First Nations People to move faster, hunt more efficiently, and transport larger loads of goods, having now to care for these animals in the winter became an extra burden. ⁹

Did First Nations’ acquisition of the horse necessitate an even greater use of Chinook regions in southern Alberta? Not only would people have had to move into these areas to provide adequate winter feed for their horses, but they may have had to move more often to find new pastures (creating more archaeological campsites) than during the Late Prehistoric Period.

“When the grass in the vicinity of a winter camp was consumed, it was necessary to move camp….Some bands, whose members owned large horse herds, had to move camp several times in the course of each winter for no other reason than to secure adequate pasturage. This did not necessarily entail movement of any great distance. A few miles, a short day’s journey, might bring them to good pasturage.” (John C. Ewers on the movement of winter camps by the Blackfoot during ‘horse’ days.)

In the diagrams below, there are far fewer historic period Indigenous sites (right) in southern Alberta than Late Prehistoric sites (left) primarily because the Protohistoric-historic period covers about 160 years while the Late Prehistoric Period covers approximately 1500 years (the latter, longer period allowing more archaeological sites to be created). But if we account for these different lengths of time, do more archaeological sites occur in the Chinook belt during the historic period than before ‘horse days’?

There is little difference in the relative percentage of archaeological sites inside as opposed to outside the major Chinook area in southern Alberta in these two maps representing two periods. The current data, albeit not a large enough sample, suggest that once the Blackfoot, for example, acquired the horse, there was not a greater use of the Chinook Belt than during pre-horse days. Do these data suggest that the Blackfoot were already taking advantage of the warmer number of days in the winter in the Chinook Belt during Prehistoric times? It may not have been a big step to incorporate the horse into their annual seasonal round. ¹⁰

According to ethnohistoric records, horses died during the winter and particularly harsh winters killed large numbers. However, was the winter kill the same throughout the Great Plains? Indigenous horses were very tough and could, up to a certain degree, cope with relatively harsh winter climates.

“Their front feet were left free to paw away the snow to the dry grass below. At this practice, commonly known as “rustling,” Indian ponies were remarkably adept….the Canadian North West Mounted Police, during their first winter in Alberta, employed Indian ponies which “were hardy, serviceable animals, and would find their own food under the snow by pawing in the coldest weather.” ¹¹

Horses are relatively adept at finding grass under the snow. But the less snow, the less energy used to find their food. The Chinook Belt in southern Alberta would have been a *relatively* better place for wintering horses than elsewhere on the Canadian and American Great Plains.

For many of the Plains Indigenous tribes, and some west of the Rocky Mountains, the number of horses a family owned denoted wealth. John Ewers compiled data regarding the number of horses owned by various western North American plains tribes. These data might reflect how sustainable it was to keep large numbers of horses in different regions of North America.

Ewers’ data show that the Nez Perz and Cayuse living west of the Rocky Mountains possessed the highest number of horses per person. Also, those tribes living on the southern Great Plains (south of Colorado) had relatively higher numbers of horses per person (than further east and north). He reasoned that these higher numbers, relative to those of other plains tribes, was related to a lower incidence of horse raiding and milder winters.

However, when we examine the number of horses owned per person east of the Rockies, both within the Chinook Belt and further east outside it, the results in the diagram below show that they were always relatively higher in the Chinook Belt than those of the tribes living further east away from the Chinook Belt.

Put in another way, based on the figures below, one hundred Blackfoot people would own approximately 110 horses compared to only seventy horses for one hundred Cree and forty for one hundred Assiniboine people.

This diagram shows the relative positions of several First Nations cultural groups’ territories, accompanied by the number of horses each person owned in the tribe. Those people on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, ranging from as far north as Calgary, Alberta, to as far south as south of Denver Colorado all had relatively more horses per household in the Chinook Belt along the Rocky Mountains than those groups occupying areas further east (keeping latitude of the groups the same). While horses weren’t as important for the more sedentary Mandan and Hidatsa agriculturalists, all other cultural groups listed here were nomadic and relied on horses for transportation. Also, those Indigenous groups living west of the Rocky Mountain range, also in or near Chinook belts, had large herds. Furthermore, horse-poor groups, such as the Cree, raided Blackfoot horse herds, while the Blackfoot and Atsina raided larger herds to the south (Crow). While horse raiding was considered prestigious and created wealth for those undertaking such risks, this practise may have also been necessary for those Indigenous peoples who had fewer horses (and higher winter kills) and needed to replenish their herds continuously. ¹²

The Plains First Nations Tipi – A Dwelling That’s Hard to Blow Down

Humans worldwide used conical dwellings made from hide, canvas and other available materials, but these dwellings occur primarily among nomadic peoples in high-wind areas. In Canada, Indigenous people lived in conical lodges on the windy southern Alberta Plains, in the more sheltered Boreal Forest, and the often turbulent Canadian Arctic. Conical-shaped dwellings were *not solely* associated with windy landscapes.

Did the Canadian Prairies’ strong winds and Chinooks affect the dwellings First Nations people constructed and lived in? We are all familiar with the conical First Nations tipi of the North American Great Plains. It was the primary type of dwelling for these nomadic people living on the windy prairies. Wind tunnel tests on tipis indicate they can withstand speeds reaching over 100mph if securely anchored.

The tipi’s basic construction (i.e., poles, rocks and hides) and shape (circular or conical) were primarily responsible for its strength and ability to survive very high winds. How did each component of the tipi help First Nations people adapt to these severe winds?

This photograph, taken in 1878, shows conical canvas tents used by the North West Mounted Police at Fort Walsh in the Cypress Hills (today’s southeastern Alberta, Canada). During their original trek west in 1874, the force barely survived because they did not adequately prepare for the prairie conditions including the constant winds. They soon learned, however, that the one-pole conical tent, or bell tent, similar to the tipi, was the best temporary, mobile prairie dwelling. ¹³ Photograph courtesy of Galt Museum & Archives: https://nwmp.galtmuseum.com/major-posts/fort-walsh.

Three factors were required for the tipi’s sturdiness/strength and ability to withstand high wind forces: 1) the wooden frame and anchor system consisting of long wooden poles and rope; 2) methods of anchoring the tipi poles and cover, such as rocks, pegs, or logs placed around the base of the cover; and, 3) the size of the tipi (i.e., a smaller tipi would be able to withstand higher wind forces than a bigger, taller tipi, assuming all other things being equal).

1. The Tipi Wooden Three- Versus Four-Pole Anchoring System

Not all tipis were constructed similarly on the North American Great Plains. Tipi pole anchor frames consist of tying three or four poles together at the top and then anchoring them to the ground by a hide rope near the center of the lodge. Ten to eleven poles were placed between these main anchor poles to form the tipi frame. This wood frame was covered by hide or canvas. ¹⁴

How does the three—or four-pole tipi anchor system affect the tipi’s strength and stability? According to basic principles of physics, a three-pole anchor frame is more stable and less prone to wobbling than a four-pole anchor frame. This is especially true on uneven ground because the three contact points ensure a more stable, balanced base, than the four-pole anchor system.

The three-pole versus the four-pole tipi anchor arrangement (left). In each method, the three or four poles were tied together with a hide rope, which was then tied to a peg or large rock to anchor them. The four-pole anchor tipi was round, while the three-pole tipi was oval. At prehistoric campsites on the North American Plains, rocks (if not too badly disturbed when breaking camp) might reveal which type of anchor system was used to keep the hides fastened down based on the shape of the ring. The diagram on the right shows a tipi ring (DlPb-2, ring 33f) along the Oldman River in southern Alberta, Canada. This ring almost looks square with the four corner points oriented to the cardinal directions. ¹⁵

While a three-pole anchor system may be sturdier in principle, to my knowledge, no one has conducted experimental wind tests on each pole anchor system to answer this question with data. If both were used on the windy plains, then both would have had to be strong enough to withstand variable wind speeds. This would have had to include the high Chinook winds and severe Prairie summer storms where wind speeds occasionally were equal to or surpassed the Chinooks.

This map shows the annual average wind speeds (in metres per second) in North America and the Great Plains. Those Prairie provinces and US States bordering the Rocky Mountains receive the highest annual average wind speeds, which gradually decrease moving further east (although the Dakotas and Iowa still get their share of wind). On this map, a wind speed of 10 metres/second equals 36k/h (22.4mph) and a wind speed of 3 metres/second equals 10.8k/h (6.7mph). Map courtesy of, NREL (National Renewable Energy Laboratory), by Billy J. Roberts, 2019. https://www.nrel.gov/images/libraries/gis-images/wtk-100-north-america-50-nm-01-min.jpg?sfvrsn=2d7bea88_3 ¹⁶

If the three-pole tipi anchor system is strongest, then in those regions of the Plains having the most frequent and highest wind speeds, would this anchor system be the most prominent? When we look at the distribution of the three- versus four-pole tipi anchor system, both occur in the Chinook Belt and further away from the Chinook Belt. Only the four-pole system (believed to be less sturdy) was used in southern Alberta, where the most frequent and highest Chinook winds occur. Their distribution then, in terms of their strength currently makes little sense if we assume that the three-pole anchor system was superior in sturdiness to the four-pole system.

I plotted the distribution of known tipi pole anchor systems in this diagram. Generally, east of the Rocky Mountains, with a few exceptions, the three-pole anchor system is more predominant among the more eastern Plains cultural groups, and the four-pole anchor system is predominant among the western Plains cultural groups. This is by no means a perfect fit, and until we determine which pole anchor system is sturdiest, other factors could be responsible for this distribution. Also, there are other ways to strengthen and protect tipis from extreme winds: 1) tying down and anchoring the poles and hides better; 2) using more or heavier rocks, or pegs, to anchor the tipi cover; 3) a steeper slope on the side of the tipi more which faces the prevailing winds (which was done); and, 4) placing a protective barrier around the bottom of the tipi.

In this diagram, I have depicted the top view of the three- versus four-pole tipi anchor system (A), a side-view of the tipi slope with the two poles facing the wind having an angle than the front pole(es) near the door (B). With a three-pole foundation, additional poles can be added easily without requiring extra ropes to maintain stability. ¹⁷

Is there another possible explanation for the three- versus four-pole anchor system? Clark Wissler, an American ethnologist, was the first to observe that the number of anchor poles was related to Indigenous tribal differences (and beliefs):

“In a way, this reinforces the four-pole tribal distinction, placing their geographical group in a class with tribes on the northern border, differentiating them from a southern and eastern three-pole group in which the Dakota are the most conspicuous.” (American Ethnologist, Clark Wissler commenting on the distribution of the three-pole versus the four-pole tipi anchor system.)

Wissler’s observations suggest that the type of tipi anchor pole system that various cultural groups used held cultural and spiritual symbolic significance, which differed from tribe to tribe. The use of different anchor pole systems may have little to do with sturdiness; both anchor systems seemed to be sturdy enough:

Wahpeton Dakota First Nation Knowledge Keepers believe the thirteen tipi poles represent a trait to be honoured, starting with the three anchor poles that signify respect, obedience and humility.” ¹⁸
Also, the four-pole anchor system denoted the four cardinal directions, which the Blackfoot consider sacred.

2. Use of Rocks and Pegs to Increase Tipi Sturdiness

For thousands of years, First Nations people used rocks, then later pegs, to hold down the tipi cover and strengthen it against high winds. ¹⁹Thousands of stone tipi rings found on the Great Plains and Canadian Arctic held down tipi covers. ²⁰

According to Blackfoot informants, the tipi rocks also “…weighed down the sacred messages that tipi designs depicted, so that their blessings would remain with the land and the tipi occupants.” ²¹

For some of the tipie ring data I examined, the range of the number and total weight of rocks was quite mind-boggling. We’re not talking about a few pounds and some minor pebbles to hold down covers. Rock frequencies ranged from as low as 20 rocks to over 100 rocks placed on the tipi cover. The total weight of rocks ranged from as little as 200kg (440.1 pounds) to nearly 1,000kg (2,205 pounds). Some rocks weighed less than 1kg (2.2lbs) while others weighed over 35 kg (77lbs). But if you’ve stood outside in an even mild prairie wind, these weights aren’t too surprising.

Winds in the Canadian Arctic can reach speeds of upwards of 50–100 km/h (30–60 mph). These wind speeds were nothing like those recorded during Chinooks but substantial enough to blow over tents if not securely anchored. Large rocks were placed around the tent perimeter on the North American Plains and in the high Arctic to secure the tent from winds. ²²

Archaeologists working on the Great Plains have examined how prairie winds might have affected where prehistoric tipi cover rocks were placed, how many rocks were used and how much they weighed. A leading authority on this topic in Canada, James Finnigan, Western Heritage Environmental Services, collected tipi data from the Suffield tipi ring Site, located just northeast of Medicine Hat, Alberta, (EdOp-1) and lying on the open prairies. He devised a series of formulas to determine the kind of force certain wind velocities would generate on tipis of varying sizes (and weights). ²³

Aerial view of stone features at the Suffield archaeological site, EdOp-1. Finngian believes the site was occupied during the summer months. It lies on the open, flat prairie and would have been exposed to constant winds and intense summer storms. Photograph courtesy of John Brumley, in Finnigan, p.77.

In the above two diagrams, James Finnigan has estimated how many rocks (averaging 9kg in weight) are required to withstand certain wind speeds. In the diagram on the left, as the diameter (metres) of the tipi increases so does the amount of force placed on the cover, requiring more rocks (more weight) to prevent it from tipping over. In the diagram on the right Finnigan predicted the number of rocks required at different wind speeds for different tipi diameters (metres) to prevent it from tipping over. ²⁴

Using Finnigan’s formulas, I estimated how many rocks and the total rock weight were required on a tipi cover to keep it from blowing over at certain wind speeds. My interest lay primarily in high wind speeds such as those created by Chinooks or severe prairie summer storms. ²⁵

²⁶

When I applied these figures to the Suffield tipi ring data, 21 out of 26 (81%) tipis had sufficient stone weights to withstand 100kmph winds and only 8 out of 26 (31%) tipi rings had sufficient stone weights to withstand 125kmph winds.

When I applied these figures to other central and southern Alberta tipi rings (n = 56), the results indicated that 67.9% tipi rings had sufficient stone weights with withstand 100kmph winds and a mere 7.1% tipi rings had sufficient stone weight to withstand 125kmph winds. ²⁷

²⁸

Unfortunately, out of this sample of fifty-six tipi rings only five stone rings in my sample functioned as winter camps. These rings would have been most susceptible to the frequent Chinooks in the region. Four of the five rings were located in the high Chinook Belt while the fifth ring was located in the Red Deer River Valley, a region where Chinooks occurred but less frequently than southern Alberta. In all five cases the total weight of ring rocks were insufficient for the tipi to withstand either a 100kmph or 125kmph wind velocity.

If I might use a Prairie metaphor here: “Don’t go P***ing into the wind”, it would apply to the tipi ring evidence: “Don’t fight these strong winds. Hide your tipis somewhere more sheltered.”

If these results from the wintering tipi rings continue to show the same trends as we acquire a larger sample of winter tipi rings then the wintering tipis in the high Chinook season weren’t weighted down to withstand strong winds, namely because they were placed in the more sheltered, less windy river valleys.

Here is a summary of my findings regarding the use of rocks to hold down tipi covers, using a small sample of tipi rock rings in central and southern Alberta:

When I compared tipi rock frequencies/weights at Forty-Mile Coulee in southern Alberta of camps sitting on the coulee edge in the open prairie as opposed to those sitting in the more sheltered coulee bottoms, there was no difference in either the size of the tipi or the number of tipi rocks to hold down the covers between the two areas. ²⁹
When I compared tipi ring sites present inside the Chinook Belt in Alberta to tipi ring sites outside the Chinook Belt, I found no significant differences in either tipi ring rock frequency or total rock weight between the two areas.
When I compared known Alberta tipi wintering sites to tipi ring sites occupied during other times of the year, there was no discernible difference in the number of rocks or total rock weights, either in the high Chinook belt or outside it.

Many tipi ring sites on the northern Great Plains rest on the open prairies where there are high wind speeds. While these ring sites were likely used during the summer and fall they were still exposed to high winds from occasional summer storms. I find the photograph on the right particularly alarming where the tipi rings are located along the edge of the coulee rim. One strong wind and… ³⁰

A heavy tipi ring in the sheltered Red Deer River Valley, east of Red Deer, Alberta. While some winter rings were well weighed down with rocks, other winter ring sites were not. ³¹

Even at the same wintering site, such as this one in the Bow River Valley south of Calgary, some tipi rings were well weighed down while others were not. Ring 15 on the left contained 311.5kg of rocks while Ring 16 on the right contained 621kg. Both rings were relatively similar in diameter therefore differences in ring diameter don’t account for these different rock weights. ³²

So what happened when the Chinooks came and the winds gusted to 100kmph or more? Perhaps, as Arapaho elder Althea Bass recounts, the people used other methods in the winter to prevent tipis from blowing away, regardless of what pole-anchor method or how many rocks were used to hold down the covers. This might explain why the wintering tipi rings in Alberta weren’t more heavily weighted down. For example, as oral and written histories suggest, wintering sites in Alberta are often found in protected and woody areas such as river bottoms or coulees, a strategy similar to what the Arapaho did:

“In the winter, our villages stood on low, sheltered ground near the river, where the wind and cold could not reach us; in summer they were moved to higher ground where they could catch the cool winds.” (Arapaho elder Althea Bass describing where people camped to avoid high winds)

Or, First Nations used other methods to hold down their tipi covers or methods to deflect the high winds that don’t survive in the archaeological record:

“In winter, there were windbreaks to shelter our lodges. The women went to the river in the fall and cut a kind of tall grass …The women bound this grass into panels and set them up like a stockade fence outside our tipis to shut out the wind and the snow. Then they pegged down the lodge cloth and laid sod or earth over it to seal it. When that was done, we were snug for the winter, however stormy it might be outside.” (winter tipi described by Arapaho elder, Althea Bass ³³

Winter tipi construction and shelter. Arapaho informants talk about constructing wooden barriers around their tipis for windbreaks, substantially reducing the need for more pegs or rocks to secure the covers. Image courtesy of Althea Bass. 1967. *The Arapho Way. A Memoir of an Indian Boyhood.* Clarkson N. Potter.

Get Along Little Doggies…

The heartland of the old Canadian ranching frontier was the foothill country of southwestern Alberta, where the sheltered, well-watered valleys and the Chinook winds stripped the hills of winter snow made it one of the continent’s preferred stock-raising areas. Today the region in southern Alberta’s Chinook belt still contains a large cattle industry.

By 1884 the following are a few of the forty-one historic ranches that covered approximately 2,782,000 acres land along the front range of the Canadian Rockies, leased from the Canadian Government:

Bar U Ranch (over 160,000 acres);
Cochrane Ranch (355,831.749 acres);
Oxley Ranch (80,900 hectares (200,000 acres);
The Walrond Ranch (300,000 acres);
Circle Ranch;
Quorn Ranch.

The location of historic ranches in southern Alberta. Very few of the early larger ranches were located outside the Chinook Belt (shaded in green). The ranchers relied heavily on the Chinooks to clear the western grazing ranges of snow, allowing cattle to graze all year round. Few ranchers thought of putting up feed in case of bad winter weather.

The Year of the ‘Great Die-Up’: The Winter of 1886-87

Known as the ‘Great Die-Up’, the winter of 1886-87 was one of the severest on record, stretching from southern Alberta down to Texas. ³⁴

This diagram of the United States and southern Alberta shows the location of most ranches (in green) mostly west of 100th Meridian and many of those within or near the Chinook Belt. Early ranchers were heavily dependent on the Chinooks to clear the snow for grazing, and many didn’t bother to produce feed in case of inclement weather. The result was the winter of 1886-87 and a disaster of enormous proportions, causing many ranches to go bankrupt.

The winter of 1886-87 was so famous it was immortalized by the well-known American frontier painter C. M. Russell, entitled, *“Waiting for a Chinook.”*

In Canada, the winter of 1886-87 hurt the large ranches in southern Alberta. The Bar U ranch near Longview, Alberta survived the disaster. The ranch’s owners were foresighted enough to put up winter feed and lost relatively fewer head of cattle than many of the other ranches that winter.

The lesson learned from that disastrous winter was not to rely entirely on Chinooks, which occasionally failed to clear major snow storms quickly enough, having disastrous consequences for those who were unprepared.

Today the Bar U Ranch in the Porcupine Hills south of Calgary, Alberta, Canada, has been designated a National Historic Site recognizing western Canada’s early ranching industry.

Canada’s Chinooks – A Blessing and a Curse

Our Canadian weather, whether in Newfoundland or Alberta defines who we are and impacts our everyday lives. The Chinook winds roaring off the eastern slopes in southern Alberta have affected humans for thousands of years.

This photograph, taken on January 12, 2021, in southern Alberta, is a reminder of the tremendous strength of the severe winds on the southern Canadian prairies. Not everything about these winds was good. Photograph courtesy of CBC: https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/video/1.5871938.

What if the Chinook winds in southern Alberta changed?:

If they stopped blowing, there would be deeper winter snow cover. Ranchers would have to feed their cattle more often in the winter. Our beef prices in the supermarkets would likely go up.
Fewer people would be complaining of severe migraines with the coming of Chinooks (a malady that is not entirely scientifically proven).
If Chinooks stopped blowing, major irrigation projects in the Lethbridge-Taber regions might not be necessary because there would be more spring run-off and hence more available groundwater for agricultural plants.

Sugar beets growing in the Taber area, southern Alberta, require about 20 inches (508mm) of annual rainfall to be productive. The Taber region receives an average yearly rainfall of about 8 inches per year (and a range between 95 mm – 442 mm or 3.7-17.4 inches), requiring extensive irrigation to sustain it. The region is located in one of Canada’s highest Chinook areas and thus receives little or no annual snowmelt in the spring.

Even southern Alberta’s large, powerful wind turbines occasionally shut down because of the excessive Chinook wind speeds.

This large wind farm in southern Alberta, near Pincher Creek produces significant amounts of electricity. But even here, high, excessive winds produced by the Chinooks, can shut these turbines down. When wind speeds reach higher than 55 mph (88.5km), it triggers the wind turbine to shut off automatically. While this seems somewhat counterintuitive current wind turbines have not been designed to take advantage of excessive wind speeds. ³⁵

“Four strong winds that blow lonely….” When Canadian and Albertan, Ian Tyson wrote one of the most popular Canadian songs ever, was he influenced by those strong Chinook winds blowing off the Canadian Rockies? I can’t prove that he was, but I’d like to think so. Once you’ve experienced one, you never forget it. “And those winds sure can blow cold way out there.”

It was a Canadian Thanksgiving weekend in October 2010. I was competing with my springers at the Canadian National Spaniel Field Trial southeast of Calgary near Vulcan, Alberta. At the end of the first day of competition, we drove into Milo for the Trial banquet. I had two American passengers with me. I looked up and saw an ominous Chinook arch heading our way from the west. I informed my American friends to batten down the hatches because all hell was about to break loose. I don’t think they believed me until all hell did break loose, and the Chinook wasn’t just A’Commin’! It had landed in full force.

Historically, the Grande Prairie area was an open prairie as a result of both regular firing and the dry Chinook winds melting the winter snows and reducing its annual spring runoff.[↩]
2006. The timing and nature of Late Quaternary vegetation changes in the northern Great Plains, USA and Canada: a re-assessment of the spruce phase. Quaternary Science Reviews, Volume 25, Issues 3–4, pp. 263-281 .https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2005.02.008.[↩]
For one of the most comprehensive works on the Noth American Bison, see: F. G. Roe. 1951. The North American Buffalo. A Critical Study of the Species in its Wild State. The University of Toronto Press.[↩]
From an unfinished manuscript, 1917:34. Provincial Legislative Library, Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Chinook winds, while most frequent along the front range of the Rocky Mountains, occurred much further east, but less frequently, reaching the Dakotas in the United States and even Winnipeg, Manitoba in Canada. This large region would, therefore, have less snowfall build-up throughout the winter months.[↩]
From Neil Marau. 2009. Traditional Knowledge and Landuse Assessment, Town of Okotoks. Arrow Consultants Limited[↩]
Maps are courtesy of Neil Marau, 2009. Traditional Knowledge and Land Use Assessment, Town of Okotoks. Arrow Consultants Limited[↩]
Because of the insufficient information about these archaeological sites, we currently do not know which ones were only occupied during the winter months. These are the types of data necessary to more accurately test the hypothesis that prehistoric wintering sites increase in areas of increasing Chinooks in southern Alberta.[↩]
For a thorough description of the horse in Blackfoot culture, John C. Ewers’ work is the best available: John C. Ewers. 1955. The Horse in Blackfoot Culture. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 159.[↩]
However, that being said, the resolution (the quality and specific information about many archaeological sites such as time of use, length of use, etc.) of the archaeological record is currently insufficient to answer this question with any certainty. It is a question to reconsider with a larger, more information-laden database.[↩]
John C. Ewers. 1955. The Horse in Blackfoot Culture. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 159:42[↩]
All data for the above diagram from: John C. Ewers. 1955. The Horse in Blackfoot Culture. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 159:42[↩]
Henry Hopkins Sibley (a Federal Army Colonel at the time) developed the one-pole Sibley Tent while posted in Texas. He got this idea for his tent from the First Nations conical tipi. Short side walls were later added to these tents. The NWMP tents resemble the Sibly tent.[↩]
According to various historic sources, the number of poles used for a tipi ranged from over ten to over twenty.[↩]
Ring 33f drawing courtesy of Glenn S. L. Stuart, Permit 87-59[↩]
What the map doesn’t show is where the most intense winds occur and how frequent they are. Even if high winds are less frequent in the Dakotas than in Alberta, people would still have to prepare for them the same way. It only takes one high wind event to blow your dwelling away.[↩]
Image A, courtesy of Campell, W. S. 1915. The Cheyenne Tipi. American Anthropologist 17:685-94. Image C, courtesy of Pinterest: https://kr.pinterest.com/pin/58828338876329776/.[↩]
From Saskatchewan Polytechnic: https://saskpolytech.ca/news posts/2022tipitrainingatprincealbertcampus.aspx#:~:text=According%20to%20these%20teachings%2C%20the,signify%20respect%2C%20obedience%20and%20humility.[↩]
Dr. Richard Forbis, University of Calgary, considered the Father of Alberta Archaeology, estimated that before White contact, there were as many as one million stone rings in Alberta.[↩]
We rarely find stone tipi rings in the Boreal Forest, either because wood was more abundant and used for anchoring covers or high winds were less prevalent in the sheltered forests than on the open Plains and Arctic tundra.[↩]
From Todd Kristensen and Emily Moffat, 2024. Home on the Plains. Indigenous tipis connect land, life, and spirit. In Canada’s History[↩]
Photographs: left: Kaj Birket-Smith. 1893. The Caribou Eskimos. Material and Social Life and their Cultural Positions. Gyldeddalske Boghandel, Nordisk Forlag, Copenhagen, 1929); center: courtesy Wikimedia CC; Right: https://canadianmysteries.ca/sites/franklin/archive/image/StoneRingsKamookak_en.htm[↩]
For more detailed information, see: Finnigan, James T. 1982. Tipi Rings and Plains Prehistory: A Reassessment of Their Archaeological Potential. A Diamon Jenness Memorial Volume. National Museum of Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
Diagrams from, Finnigan, James T. 1982. Tipi Rings and Plains Prehistory: A Reassessment of Their Archaeological Potential. A Diamon Jenness Memorial Volume. National Museum of Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
At the Suffield site, the mean weight of stones was 9kg (19.8lbs) which is what I used in these calculations.[↩]
Tipi Diameter ~No. of Stones/Tipi Weight (kg) of Stones/Tipi Wind Speed (kmph)
4 metresw 20 180 100
4 metres 60 540 125
5 metres 55 495 100
5 metres 110 990 125
6 metres 90 810 100
6 metres 190 1,710 125

[↩]
Keep in mind that my tipi ring sample size here is extremely small given Forbis’s estimate of there once being approximately one million tipi rings present in Alberta.[↩]

Region	Site	# Rings	Can withstand 100kmph winds	Can withstand 125 kmph winds
Neutral Hills	FbOr-57	2	1	0
40-mile coulee (Calder)	DjPb2&3	3	2	1
Empress (Hanna)	EdOm-13	4	2	0
Oldman (Stuart)	DlPb-2	26	24	2
**Bow River Valley	EfPm-104	4	0	0
**Red Deer River Valley	FjPj-8	1	0	0
40-Mile coulee (Brumley)	DjOu-42	4	2	0
40-Mile Coulee (Brumley)	DjOu-2	6	2	0
Oldman Pincher Creek	DlPm-24	1	1	0
Oldman Pincher Creek	DJPm-21	5	4	1
Total		56	38	4
Percent ‘Yes’		0	67.9	7.1
** denotes winter tipi ring

[↩]

The sites examined included DjOu-2 (valley edge), DjOu-42-44 (base of coulee wall). All data come from Barry J. Dau and John H. Brumley. 1987. HISTORICAL RESOURCE INVEST IGAT IONS WITHIN THE FORTY MILE COULEE RESERVOIR. Permit 86-20c. Archaeological Survey of Alberta.[↩]
From Barry J. Dau and John H. Brumley. 1987. HISTORICAL RESOURCE INVEST IGAT IONS WITHIN THE FORTY MILE COULEE RESERVOIR. Permit 86-20c. Archaeological Survey of Alberta.[↩]
From Lifeways of Canada Limited. 1976. Archaeological Impact Assessment Alberta Gas Ethylene company Litd, CNR Rail Spur, AGEC Water Intake and Pipeline Right of Way Red Deer Ethylene Plant Site Area.[↩]
From Brian Ronaghan and Alison Landals. 1981. Final Report Historical Resources Impact Assessment and Conservation Excavation Studies Douglasdale Estates (ASA Permit 81-38).[↩]
Althea Bass. 1967. The Arapho Way. A Memoir of an Indian Boyhood. Clarkson N. Potter.[↩]
“The impact of the blizzards in the southern plains in early 1886 was compounded by conditions later that year, especially on the northern plains. The summer and fall were dry and grass was in poor condition for grazing cattle. The first blizzard of winter occurred on November 22 and 23. Cattle had trouble digging through the snow to reach to grass underneath. In late December the weather turned very cold reaching an unofficial temperature of −35 °F (−37 °C) at Glendive, Montana. Bitterly cold weather returned in late January and a newspaper report said “more snow has fallen this year than any previous year in west Dakota.” Bismarck, North Dakota reported temperatures of −43 °F (−42 °C) on February 1 and 12. The winter weather even reached the West Coast, with snowfall of 3.7 inches in downtown San Francisco setting an all-time record on February 5, 1887.” From: San Francisco Snowstorms”. TheStormKing.com. Mic Mac Media.[↩]
Photograph courtesy of: https://www.gettyimages.ca/detail/news-photo/with-the-rocky-mountains-as-a-backdrop-wind-turbines-at-news-photo/592768076?adppopup=true.[↩]

February 5, 2025February 5, 2025

What’s Important About Canada’s History: A Matter of Perspective?

Our History Is Who We Are Today

Writing-On-Stone National Historic Site is located in southern Alberta, Canada, and contains one of Canada’s largest collections of First Nations Rock Art. The photograph on the right shows some petroglyph details on one of the many panels found on the sandstone cliffs overlooking the Milk River. Our Canadian heritage is recognized at the Municipal, Provincial, and National levels, and occasionally at the international level, as is the case with Writing-on-Stone. This unique, beautiful place has been designated a World UNESCO Heritage Site.

Canada has a rich and varied human and natural history spanning a considerable geographic and temporal range. We have spent a significant amount of time and energy protecting certain parts of that history that best portray who we are as a Nation.

The question then becomes: How and why do Canadians choose the places and stories to tell the world about our history? Is what we have chosen inclusive enough to represent our appreciable historic and cultural diversity?

The Canadian Government recognizes Canadian history through its designated National Historic Sites Program: “To be considered for designation, a place, a person or an event will have had a nationally significant impact on Canadian history or will illustrate a nationally important aspect of Canadian human history.”

This choice of places and their stories isn’t easy or entirely objective. Phrases such as ‘nationally significant impact on Canadian history’ or ‘illustrate a nationally important aspect of Canadian human history’, are open to interpretation. What is historically important and appealing to one person, group, or generation, may not necessarily be so for another. Political and ideological agendas occasionally interfere with the selection process as well.

Here’s an example, from Medicine Hat, Alberta, of how certain biases often get in the way of national recognition.

‘Nothing But A Human Sweatshop’: Medalta Potteries, Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada

Like many industrial jobs, work in the Medalta Potteries was repetitious, boring and tiresome. The writing on a table in this photograph reads, *“between the machine and conveyor line could **WEAR THE SOLES OUT OF YOUR SHOES**!*“

Many of us working in the heritage profession realized in the 1970s the historic importance of Medalta Potteries. Constructed in 1916 and operating until 1954, this pottery factory was the first in western Canada to send products east of Ontario. Its pottery clays came from southeastern Alberta and Saskatchewan and were made into pottery, fired by the extensive natural gas reserves available in the Medicine Hat area.

The brick kilns at the Medalta Potteries site, Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada. Designated a National Historic Site in 1985, recognition of this site’s historic importance was not without some controversy.

The Medalta industrial site met the criteria outlined in the Canadian Government’s recognition of National Historic Sites. However, some politically powerful individuals in the community felt that this part of Alberta’s history was better left untold. It was considered an example of ‘dark history’. Why promote and raise a place to Provincial or National Historic status where people laboured hard and were often paid poorly?

My first glimpse of the inside of one of the kilns at Medalta Potteries left me speechless. The entire inside of one of the kilns (not this one) had a thick layer of molten glass covering the brick from a past firing. The acoustics inside the kiln were eery, to say the least.

The story becomes even more perverse. Because of this political push-back, the Province was reluctant to acquire and preserve this site when the opportunity arose, which would have made it a Provincial Historic Site. ¹ In 1985, however, the Medalta Potteries Site was designated a National Historic Site.

Recognition of a country’s history must be as all-inclusive as possible in the designation process. Some of that history may not be very ‘jolly’. For example, since we now have a negative attitude toward the coal industry (because of its adverse effects on our climate) should we ignore the important contribution the coal industry made to Nation-building?

Human history is not always pretty. Some years ago I took my family to visit the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany. Now talk about ‘dark history’. But the Germans, to their credit, turned it into a historic site so that no one would ever forget the atrocities toward humanity carried out during that era. ²

What histories and stories are we missing in Alberta, or the rest of Canada, that might be considered Nationally significant? In the table below I have listed the number and percent of registered National Historic Sites in Alberta, according to ethnic affiliation. It is readily apparent, despite a long Indigenous history in Alberta, far surpassing more recent colonization, that the number of registered National Historic Sites affiliated with Indigenous history is low. Needless to say, the representation of our other minorities is almost zero. ³

Table 1. National Historic Sites, Alberta
Ethnic Affiliation	National Historic Sites	Percent
First Nations	8	13
Metis	1	2
Euro-Canadian	51	83
Natural	1	2

When these same National Historic Sites are broken down according to regions in Alberta, there is a strong bias towards the central and southern parts of the province. Does this mean that little of national significance happened in northern Alberta? By the looks of these numbers, it seems so.

Table 2. National Historic Sites, to Region, Alberta
Region	National Historic Sites	Percent
North	5	8
Central – South	56	92

Below are several places in northern Alberta that I feel should be considered for National Historic recognition. I focus on this part of Canada which is the most familiar to me. You can go online and view the National Historic Sites listed in your province or country. Perhaps there are some places, like Methy Portage in Saskatchewan (also not on the National Registry), that should be on that list.

1. Peter Pond’s Fur Trade Post (c.1778-1788)

In 1778, American Peter Pond crossed Methye Portage, considered to be one of the most important Canadian fur trade overland routes, and entered the Athabasca drainage. Pond was the first White explorer/trader to enter the Athabasca region in Alberta. His map was the first to reveal parts of the geography of northern Canada. Some historians believe his explorations strongly influenced Alexander Mackenzie’s decision to explore rivers further north (Mackenzie River) and west (Peace River) to find an overland route to the Pacific Ocean.

A map of western North America, c.1783, by explorer Peter Pond. On it, he shows the Peace River (River of Peace) leading to the west coast and the Mackenzie River leading to the Arctic Ocean.

In 1778 Pond established the earliest fur trade post in Alberta along the Athabasca River below Lake Athabasca. Parts of the post are still intact, but instead of being recognized as a National Historic Site, it will soon become a ‘National Historic Disaster’ as it erodes into the Athabasca River. ⁴ Pond’s early exploits opened the richest fur trade region in North America filling the coffers of North American and European fur trade companies.

2. Boyer’s Post/Mansfield House/Fort Liard (c.1788-1804)

In 1788 the Montreal-based North West Company (NWC) sent Charles Boyer to build a fort near the confluence of today’s Boyer River and Peace River, about five kilometres downstream from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta. Boyer’s Post was the first fort built along the Peace River and is considered by the Fort Vermilion residents to represent the beginning of continuous Euro-Canadian settlement in the area. Later, the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) followed with Thomas Swain building Mansfield House in 1802. Then Simon Fraser of the NWC returned after the company abandoned the original Boyer River Post in 1792, to construct Fort Liard in 1802. The XY Company also built a fort nearby sometime in 1802. ⁵

An areal view of the confluence of the Boyer (originally called the Paddle River) and Peace Rivers where no fewer than four fur trade forts were established between 1792 – 1804, marking the first permanent forts on the Peace River and one of the first permanent Euro-Canadian settlements in Alberta (Fort Chipewyan, also established in 1788, being the other one). Fort Liard, established by Simon Fraser for the North West Company, represented the beginning of his journey down the Peace River into British Columbia and eventually taking the Fraser River to the Pacific Ocean in 1808.

While the HBC c.1830 Fort Vermilion is a designated National Historic Site, it is so for the wrong reasons. According to the National Registry, this site supposedly marks one of the first permanent settlements in Alberta – a label that more appropriately belongs to the Boyer River fur trade sites located further downriver. This fort sits across the river from these earlier posts in the present community of Fort Vermilion. It is marked by the still-standing stately Old Bay House (shown on the cover of this website).

Archaeological investigations in 2018 at the 1788-1804 Boyer River fur trade site(s), the first post erected along the Peace River. In their quest to monopolize the Peace River fur trade, the North West, Hudson’s Bay, and XY Companies rapidly moved up one of Canada’s largest rivers to establish a series of posts which eventually reached the Rocky Mountains and beyond. I found the post in 1987 and conducted preliminary investigations in 1988, only to return forty years later with a larger crew from the University of Lethbridge to more thoroughly excavate it.

The Boyer River fur trade sites are also of national historical importance because it was here that some of the most intense, brutal competition between the three companies in the northern fur trade took place, much to the detriment of First Nations trading there. If the toxic whiskey trade in southern Alberta, with the coming of American pedlars in 1869, was emblematic of the poor Indigenous-White relations in southern Alberta, then this area is its equal in the north. It also marks where Simon Fraser first built his fort and traded on the Peace River and eventually reached the Pacific Ocean, via the Fraser River in 1808.

3. The ‘Chutes’ (Vermilion Falls)

The Vermilion Falls or ‘Chutes’, located downstream from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada were a formidable barrier for Canada’s first explorers and traders entering the Peace River drainage system during the 1780s. They are the widest falls in Canada and second only to Niagara Falls in average water flow rate. Photographs courtesy of Mother Earth Book (https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=376087137918447&set=pcb.376088537918307)

Key inland fur trade routes into the Canadian Northwest followed major rivers and lakes. But the journey from Hudson Bay or eastern Canada to the inland forts was not always ‘smooth sailing’. Along northern Alberta’s Peace River, Vermilion Falls, or the ‘Chutes’, was one of the most formidable obstacles and important portaging routes (located approximately sixty-five kilometres below Fort Vermilion, Alberta).

Men hauling scows along the Vermilion Falls – the work was a gruelling, back-breaking, and dangerous undertaking. The date of the photograph is unknown.

The Chutes are the second largest waterfall in Canada by average flow rate (second to only Niagara Falls), and the widest falls in Canada (stretching approximately 1.8km across at the widest point). They were a formidable navigation obstacle, especially during low water, as shown in the photograph below. This scow took the wrong route and ended up on the falls’ rocks.

Scow in trouble at the Vermilion Chutes. The date of the photograph is unknown.

According to some residents, parts of the portage trail along the river’s southern shore are still visible. The physical heritage potential along this eight-kilometre stretch of river has yet to be determined.

4. Northern Metis Places

Recognition of the importance of the Metis people in Canadian history is scanty. Although northern Alberta has had a considerable Metis population for over two hundred years, not one place has been considered for National Historic designation. Here are two locations that deserve more than a passing note:

Carcajou (Wolverine Point)

Located approximately 170km north of Peace River, Alberta, Wolverine Point is shown on David Thompson’s 1814 map of the Canadian Northwest. The initial date of settlement is uncertain, but it could turn out to be one of the oldest Metis settlements in Alberta.

A portion of David Thompson’s original 1814 map of the Peace River in the Fort Vermilion-LaCrete area. The arrows point to Wolverine Point (Carcajou) and Simon Fraser’s NWC Fort Liard near the Boyer River.

“It was a small settlement of Indians and half-breeds. Few cattle and horses produce feed from the prairies nearby. Hunting and trapping is their chief source of income. Nine houses, three stables, a barn, four gardens, two storehouses (one-HBC), a Roman Catholic church, and graveyard.” (Keg River History Book Committee 1994).

When we visited the site in 2016, it still contained well-preserved standing log structures dating back to the late 19th century. Because of little research, its heritage potential has yet to be fully explored.

One of the still-standing log buildings at Carcajou shows the dove-tailed notched corners in what is referred to as ‘massed log construction technique’. The photograph on the right shows a close-up view of the building’s corner construction. But if you look more carefully, you will notice a series of circles and dots etched into each log, likely made with a wood auger. The function of these marks is uncertain. However, the lowest log contains eleven of them, the one above it, has ten, and the one above it has nine circles. These logs may have been numbered so that the building could be disassembled, moved, and then reassembled elsewhere.

Buttertown, Fort Vermilion, Alberta

This old river lot settlement is located on the north banks of the Peace River across from Fort Vermilion, Alberta. Metis freemen settled across from the fort sometime after it was built in 1830. They supplied the Hudson’s Bay Company with provisions and labour. Like Victoria Settlement (south of Smoky Lake, Alberta, which is a National Historic Site) the historic narrow river lot system is still visible, also containing some late 19th – early 20th century log buildings.

North Vermilion Settlement, or Buttertown, is located across the Peace River from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada. The river lot settlement system, where narrow strips of land stretched to the river’s edge, was a Canadian method of land division ensuring every owner had access to the river. It was first used in Quebec and adopted across the Canadian prairie provinces. Many of these river lots became contentious issues of land ownership when the Dominion of Canada tried to integrate them into its legal land survey system during the early 1880s. To avoid further conflict, many of them were left out of the new land surveys.

The iconic St. Louis Catholic Church (River Lot 4),
built in 1906-1909, still stands in North Vermilion.

5. No National Historic Recognition for Canadian Farming in Alberta – Seriously?

Herman Trelle, known as ‘**THE GRAIN KING OF THE PEACE COUNTRY**‘, shown here in c.1926 in his grainfield in the Grande Prairie Region, won eighteen world championships for wheat, oats, peas, rye, flax and timothy seed at the Chicago International Hay and Grain Show during the 1920s and 30s. Photograph, courtesy of GRAINS WEST (https://grainswest.com/2021/11/the-grain-king-of-the-peace-country/)

Can you believe that there isn’t one farm or homestead on our list of Alberta National Historic Sites? If we consider the importance of agriculture at a national level, the history of farming on the western prairies should be on top of the list. ⁶ As Trelle’s story above confirms, farming in Alberta, including northern Alberta’s Peace Country, produced some world-class crops. And this folks was accomplished at latitude 56 degrees north. ⁷

The story is much the same even further north in the Fort Vermilion/High Level area (farming at 58 degrees north, a rare occurrence of agriculture found anywhere else in the world). The area produced vegetables and grains during the late 18th century when the fur trade arrived. In 1907, F. S. Lawrence established the first experimental farm at Fort Vermilion, bringing seeds and plants from eastern Canada.

“…nearly every kind of vegetable including asparagus, corn and tomatoes as well as the hardier kinds […] The cereal and the leguminous plants are the finest I ever saw; in fact anything that can be made to grow at all in the north reaches a greater perfection here than elsewhere.” (Hulbert Footner (1911 Journey) Outing Publishing Company, 1912 [first edition])

Produce grown at the Sheridan Lawrence Experimental Farm operated on Robert Jones’ farm approximately eight kilometres upriver from the present community of Fort Vermilion. Despite the shorter frost-free growing season this far north, many crops flourished because there were longer days than in the south. Photograph, courtesy of ElectricCanadian.com (https://www.electriccanadian.com/history/alberta/peace_river.htm)

In 1934, after a major flood, the experimental farm was relocated to higher ground just west of the present community of Fort Vermilion. That farm, still replete with standing buildings from that era, and now operated by the Mackenzie Applied Research Association (MARA), continues experimenting with various grain, cover, and forage crops. Over the years the farm even produced special varieties of Alfalfa (Peace Alfalfa) and Flax (Nor-Alta flax) better adapted to Canada’s northern climate.

This is a photograph of the original Sheridan Lawrence farm located just west of the bridge across the Peace River near Fort Vermilion. To my knowledge, no one has ever examined the site to see what might still be preserved. But because of its location on the lower flood plain of the Peace River, numerous floods over the years may have covered it with silts creating a rich, well-preserved archaeological record representing this important piece of northern history.

“I remember saying, ‘there’s no way you can farm this far north. It’s too cold. Too wet. Too hard,” (Mick Watson, Farmer, High Level, Alberta)

In 2015 I was tasked with creating an exhibit about northern agriculture for our new Royal Alberta Museum. On one of our archaeological projects, I met Wason, a retired farmer from the High Level area. Mick, despite his concerns about farming this far north, still managed to produce some award-winning grains at the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair in Toronto in the 1950s.

Either the original or more recent Fort Vermilion Experimental Farm (or both) warrant National Historic recognition for their outstanding contribution to agriculture in Canada.

The late Mick Watson hard at work at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I site, in 2000. During this and numerous other times, Mick shared his stories with me about what homesteading and farming were like in the 1950s when he entered the northern Peace River Country. His stories resonated deeply with me and brought back many memories of my family’s farming experiences in southern Saskatchewan during the 1950s after immigrating to Canada from Germany. They inspired me to produce an exhibit on northern farming for our new Royal Alberta Museum.

You Have the Power

Recognition of places, people, or events that represent Canadian history is a difficult, often daunting task. The selection process does not always operate on a level playing field. Some peoples’ and places’ histories often go unrecognized. And to some extent, historic recognition is a moving target, as our attitudes and knowledge about our past change and as we continue to add more layers to our already fascinating Canadian history.

These are just a few historic places in Alberta that should be considered for the National Historic Sites designation. I’m sure more hidden gems wait to be discovered in this Province and Country. Perhaps you have one to share with all Canadians. ⁸

Only those sites owned by the Government of Alberta and run as functioning historic sites or museums are designated Provincial Historic Sites. Because the Provincial Government never bought the site it is not a designated Provincial Historic Site.[↩]
I still vividly remember meeting with members of the Lac La Biche community in the 1980s, many of who were of Indigenous descent. Some members were rather angry and couldn’t understand why we were investing resources in the preservation of the Catholic Mission and church founded by the Oblates of Mary Immaculate – a place that they still remember as a residential school bringing back very dark memories. We responded by saying that this was their opportunity to tell their stories of what this place was really like. Today the mission is a National and Provincial Historic Site.[↩]
In fact, the last time I checked the list it was zero. There isn’t one National Historic Site listed that represents our other ethnic minorities in the province.[↩]
Equally problematic are a few registered National sites which may no longer exist. Fort Fork, for example, located just upriver from the present city of Peace River, Alberta, is now mostly destroyed by river erosion. It was designated a National Historic site because Alexander Mackenzie launched his journey to the Pacific Ocean from this post[↩]
Not a single XY Company fort has been excavated or received National recognition. This company was an off-shoot of the North West Company operating from c.1798-1804. It was formed by disgruntled NWC men, including Alexander Mackenzie.[↩]
In Saskatchewan the Motherwell Homestead, east of Regina, is on the National Historic Sites list. The original buildings of the Motherwell farm are of outstanding quality as are the well-defined original fields. This brings up one major obstacle often missing when searching for historic farms to designate – a site’s ‘defining features’ or ‘character-defining elements’. Of the thousands of farmsteads scattered across western Canada, how many are still intact from their beginning days? There are few if any physical ‘character-defining features’ left, greatly diminishing their chances of being designated as National Historic Sites.[↩]
If Trelle’s farmstead is still intact, it should receive some consideration for National designation.[↩]
To my Canadian readers, the selection process is not out of your hands. You can go online and nominate a place, person, or event you consider worthy of National Historic recognition.[↩]

December 2, 2023December 2, 2023

Canadian Fur Trade Archaeology: Alberta’s Forgotten Legacy

The once proud and famous Hudson’s Bay Comany Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915), one of the largest fur trade establishments in the Canadian Northwest, sits dwarfed by the New Alberta Legislature building, as Alberta moves onto a new era, c.1912. ¹

When I took my first trowel strokes, as a field school student at the historic Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria (c.1864 – 1898), Alberta in 1974, I knew immediately I could get to like this work. Nearly fifty years later that feeling remains.

Removing the sod layer at the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria in 1974. Beneath the sod, we found the archaeological remains of the fort trading store, which after over a hundred years, still contained the foundation logs and well-preserved cellar remains.

Canada has a long, colourful, and often tumultuous fur trade history. The fur trade, in beaver pelts, was the prime economic driver of early Canada for over three centuries. However, the trade was often viewed with either disdain or opportunity by Canada’s First Nations people who participated in it.

“Of what use to us are the skins of beavers, wolves, and foxes? Yet it is for these we get guns and axes.” (First Nations leader, Kootenae Appee, c.1808, recorded by David Thompson)

What the people of the Canadian fur trade did and how they lived is preserved in the thousands of documents left behind by Company officers, clerks, explorers, and first missionaries. It was occasionally captured in paintings by frontier artists such as Paul Kane.

A painting of the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915) by artist Paul Kane, 1849-56. ²

But fur trade history is also preserved in the remains of many fur trade forts constructed across Canada as it expanded westward in search of new fur-rich lands. Often those fur trade forts left behind a rich archaeological record.

Alberta is no exception. In fact, the then Athapuskow Country in today’s northern Alberta, was among the richest fur districts in North America. When American fur trader Peter Pond first discovered it in 1778, he acquired so many furs that he had to cache some because he couldn’t take them all back to Montreal.

Trader Colin Fraser, in his warehouse, examining his lot of furs worth an estimated $35,000 – a huge sum of money in the 19th century. As the Hudson’s Bay Company 1826 fur returns show, both the Athabasca and Saskatchewan Districts, mostly located in today’s Alberta, had among the highest numbers of beaver pelts in the entire Canadian Northwest. ³

I am often asked, how many fur trade establishments were there in Alberta? According to our Alberta inventories, that number is over 300. We are probably missing a few forts that were never recorded in the sometimes ‘sketchy’ historic documents. And as Alexander Ross’s description of Fort Assiniboine suggests, some of these places hardly deserved the name ‘fort’.

“…a petty post erected on the north bank of the river, and so completely embosomed in the woods, that we did not catch a glimpse of it until we were among huts, and surrounded by howling dogs and screeching children. At this sylvan retreat there were but three rude houses….and there was not a picket or palisade to guard them from either savage or bear. This mean abode was dignified with the name of fort.” (HBC Fort Assiniboine, 1825, described by Alexander Ross)

The majority of fur trade posts were located in central and northern Alberta, built by the various fur trade Companies operating from eastern Canada or England. The ‘Whiskey’ posts listed here are a later nineteenth-century addition to the trade, located mainly in southern Alberta and operated primarily by American pedlars.

Many of these forts have not been found. Often their locations were poorly documented. The physical evidence they left behind is difficult to see in the dense bush when traipsing through Alberta’s densely forested river valleys.

Graph showing the number of fur trade posts whose location is known and those that have not been found. Only approximately seven percent of these forts have been excavated.

In the dense bush of the Peace River floodplain, there are only a few hints suggesting a fur trade post once existed there – mounds representing collapsed building fireplaces and depressions representing cellars or some other type of pit. Occasionally faint depressions marking the ditches dug to place in the palisade pickets for the fort walls, still appear on the surface of the ground.

But even these features are often hard to see. Despite having found the Boyer River fort site thirty years earlier, it took over an hour to relocate a few depressions and mounds in the dense undergrowth of the Peace River floodplain.

Students from the University of Lethbridge searched through the dense bush for evidence of the 1788 North West Company’s Boyer’s Post in 2018. Only a vague description of the location of the post existed – it was built near the confluence of the Boyer and Peace Rivers.

With new technologies, we are now able to find archaeological sites hidden in the dense boreal forest more easily. LIDAR (Light Detection and Ranging) imagery strips the vegetation from the surface and then maps the surface contours with a high degree of accuracy. Above is an example of LIDAR imagery, an optical remote sensing technology that can measure the distance, or other properties of a target by illuminating the target with light often using pulses from a laser. Not only did LIDAR reveal the large cellar depressions at Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) marked by the upper two circles, but a large depression of an unknown site marked by the lower circle.

The fur trade documentary record leaves many things to be desired. It is often a biased, one-sided description of the trade and the more important members operating in it. Company workers and Indigenous people have little or no voice in those documents.

Despite being an incomplete testimony of human history, the archaeological remains we find reflect not only the lives of a literate few but also those of the many Company servants and Indigenous peoples living at the posts who left no written record behind. Their lives are reflected in the dwellings they lived in, the possessions they made or bought, and the food they ate.

Fur trade society was stratified, primarily by one’s occupation, ethnicity, and gender. The fur trade archaeological and documentary records reveal that those individuals in the highest positions had access to the best resources. Officers’ quarters were bigger, and better constructed than those of the servants ⁴.

“…while the exterior is fair enough with its winter porch, protected doors, the inside was somewhat of a maze and more like a rabbit warren is supposed to be, both in excess of occupants…” (George Simpson McTavish describing the servants’ quarters at an inland fort)

The schematic drawing of the buildings at the North West Company Fort George (c.1792 – 1800) is a case in point. This drawing was completed primarily from archaeological remains since no map of the fort existed. The men’s quarters on the left housed the Company workers and their families, sometimes holding up to 10 – 12 people in tiny, confined single rooms. These dwellings were dwarfed by Chief Trader, Angus Shaw’s two-storey Big House, where he and his family resided.

The layout of Fort George is based on archaeological evidence. There are only five references to fort construction in clerk, Duncan McGillivray’s 1794-95 journal, the only surviving document from this late 18th century *Fortes des Prairie*.

The personal possessions of the Fort population inform us about their gender, beliefs, and cultural affiliations. For example, early in the fur trade when metals were new to Indigenous people, old, leaky copper pots and larger pieces of silver were repurposed and made into jewelry.

Copper and silver tinkling cones and tags, likely made by the Indigenous wives of Company men, were highly prized objects often replacing or incorporated with traditional shell and bone adornment. They also remind us of the importance of women in the trade and everyday operation of the forts.

Artifacts from Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) were repurposed from metal and made into ornaments to suit the needs of Indigenous people living at the fur trade posts: A. Copper Tinkling cones to adorn jingle dresses; B and C. Silver tags (to adorn dress as in illustration D) cut from a larger piece of trade silver; D. A leather Dene dress adorned with metal tags made from scrap metal ⁵

The inequality existing among fur trade ranks is also reflected in their diet. During the early years of the western fur trade, wild game made up most of the food fort personnel ate. Often our fur trade posts contain an abundant, rich array of faunal remains.

Those animal bones, along with the surviving documents, show the large quantities of meat eaten by fort personnel. Meat and fat were rationed differently, depending on employees’ rank and position at the fort. Officers and their families often had more and better cuts of meat and were given more of the highly prized fat.

“…we have finished a Glaciere containing 500 thighs & shoulders for the consumption of April & May…” (Clerk, Duncan McGillivray, Fort George, 1794-95, describing the amount of meat required to feed the fort inhabitants.)

That amount of meat, representing 500 animals (likely bison), consumed over approximately sixty-one days, averages out to about most of eight bison a day required to feed the 160 hungry mouths at Fort George.

Faunal remains from the North West Company Fort George, Alberta. This fort, while primarily there to acquire furs, was essentially a meat factory, processing tens of thousands of pounds of meat necessary to supply the fur trade brigades on the journeys from the east into the Canadian interior. The photograph on the left shows butchered bone remains thrown up against the south palisade of the fort. Bone debris fills an old building cellar in the photograph on the right.

Category	Fresh Meat	Dried Meat	Pounded Meat	Grease
Officers Mess (2 persons)	2250 lbs	57 lbs	57 lbs	105 lbs
Officers Families (6 adults)	4283	159	6	108
Engages (8 persons)	7752	576	576	18
Engages Families (3 adults)	2612	148	148	4

Meat rations at Fort Vermilion II, 1832-33. While the Engages and their families are getting less fresh, dried, and pounded meat than the officers, they received far less fat per individual than the Officers and their families. ⁶

Despite the Northwest’s seemingly endless supply of resources, the fur trade’s impact on game animal populations soon showed, often in ugly ways.

“…we learn from Mr. McTavish that they are in a starving condition at Lac Verd, there being forced to pick up the fish Bones which they threw out last fall to prolong their miserable existence.” (Journal of Duncan McGillivray, 1794-95)

Alberta’s fur trade era, and that of the rest of Canada, has left a rich and varied historic footprint. It represents not only how an elite, literate portion of the population of the fur trade lived, but also how the rest of the many employees, representing a diverse number of ethnic groups, fared. While considered a darker side of Canadian colonialism, it nevertheless is part of Canadian history and cannot be ignored.

City of Edmonton Archives. EA-10-2517[↩]
Courtesy Royal Ontario Museum, 912.1.38[↩]
Provincial Archives of Alberta. B10018.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz. 1992. The Architecture of the Western Canadian Fur Trade: A Cultural-Historical Perspective. Society for the Study of Architecture in Canada, Bulletin 17(2):32-41[↩]
D from Kate Duncan. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Beadwork. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas and McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
Source: HBCA B60/d/2a/fa.12[↩]

August 15, 2023August 15, 2023

Her ‘Spirit Colours’. Colour Selection in Canadian Historic Glass Beads

“…colours are the mother tongue of the subconscious” (Karl Jung)

“Even if people don’t think too hard about the colours they prefer, they are subconsciously programmed to associate certain colours with specific situations and emotions: and this is true for adults all over the globe.” ¹

Note: I’ve posted two blogs about beads in human antiquity and those we find in western Canada during the post-contact period (starting approximately c.1680). In them you will find many examples of glass bead types, found in an array of colours. In this third, and final blog I’ll examine one glass trade bead attribute in considerably more detail – colour.

In my last segment on glass fur trade beads, I started with this image of glass beads on an object found at the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) Fort Victoria (c.1863 – 1898) site, Alberta, Canada. It was a unique find. Glass beads barely hanging together forming a distinct pattern, clinging to a rotten garment thrown away perhaps over 150 years ago. But the beautiful colour patterns formed with these tiny glass ‘seed’ beads, taking hours to complete, were still discernible.

I’ve always been fascinated by colour. Beautiful hues and shades of red, blue and green are found both in nature and on the objects humans make.

Often I don’t know why I choose one colour over another. Others, however, know where to look for answers. As the title of this blog suggests, contemporary Indigenous beaders, such as Anishinaabe Malinda Joy Gray, know where to find their ‘spirit colours’. In their dreams. ²

Therefore, to better understand colour, I study it. Not only from my personal perspective. But from those of others as well. I examine how we choose a colour with one of the most colourful historic objects that humans ever made – beads. Beads, fashioned from every conceivable material throughout history, in almost every conceivable colour.

While visiting South Africa last fall (2022) I watched a San woman making beads out of Ostrich eggshells. These simple, beautiful beads, whose origins of manufacture go back thousands of years, mostly come in shades of white. Their often singular colour was offset by intricate beading designs made by the San women. However, some prehistoric people also dyed ostrich eggshell beads with hematite.

Nor it seems do others. Oh, I understand why plants are green and water is blue. Why hares are brown in the summer and white in the winter. But I’m often baffled why humans choose certain colours. Because when you look closely at their choices, there often are no set rules for doing so. Or obvious reasons for their choice. There are exceptions. But for the most part, humans choose colours for a host of reasons which are often very difficult to unravel and explain.

In this blog, I’ll examine the selection of historic bead colours more closely. First, I’ll start with a little background on why we choose specific colours, and how they affect us. Then, with a current example that we all can relate to, how we choose the colour of our automobiles. Finally, I’ll examine the colours of historic glass trade beads from Canada and the United States. Did Indigenous people prefer specific colours of beads over others and, if so, why? It’s a fascinating journey that takes us from the practical to some very unorthodox ways of thinking about colour. And the world we live in.

A few of the thousands of glass trade beads I have recovered from western Canadian late 18th – 19th-century fur trade forts. The range of colours of these glass beads was considerable. Everything from bright blues to amber and reds. Often single beads contain a variety of colours ranging from solid opaque to transparent.

Theories of Colour Choice and Effects

“There isn’t really a rational influence to our decisions other than the color evokes an emotional and physiological response in us. Ultimately we decide what colors we like because of what we associate them with and the meaning that accompanies them.” ³

Theories about human colour choice can be divided into two basic categories: 1) theories about how certain colours affect us; and, 2) theories about why we choose certain colours.

Different colours evoke different feelings in humans. Research shows that blood pressure and EEC scores differed when subjects looked at a certain coloured sheet of paper. ³ For example, red produced a higher anxiety state in people than blue.

The reason why people choose certain colours is often associated with the cultural meanings of those colours. But, here things get a little tricky. Certain colours do not project the same meaning in different cultures, countries, or even regionally. Nor do they historically. ⁴

“In Japan, the color yellow is associated with courage whereas in parts of the American south it can be slang for cowardice. In many Latin American cultures, it’s the color of mourning and death. In China, yellow can have vulgar connotations. In Germany, you go yellow—not green—with envy. Head over to the Middle East and you’ll find yellow is imperial and sacred (not purple, which is associated with royalty in European cultures) often worn by members of the ruling or royal classes.” ¹

However, we can make a few generalizations about colour choice and meaning. For example, people in different countries liked blue, green and white the most which often also had similar meanings (i.e., white = purity, cleanliness). However, they also liked black and red, but the meaning of those colours varied cross-culturally.

Currently, the most popular theory of why humans choose certain colours is referred to as Ecological Valence Theory. In short, this theory states that humans prefer certain colours over others because of objects they either like or dislike associated with that colour. ⁵

“…people often like blue hues because it reminds them of clear skies and clean water. On the other hand, people tend to shy away from brown hues because they remind us of feces or rotting food… ⁶

I happen to own a pair of brown pants. As an archaeologist who often works in the dirt and associates it with good things, perhaps that’s the reason I’m among the few who like brown.

Some researchers have even gone so far as to suggest that is difficult if not impossible to find a negative object to associate with blue. In other words, there are few blue objects we think about negatively.

Not everyone, but many would have negative feelings about this group. And associate blue with something negative. Perhaps they are among the 12% that don’t conform to the Ecological Valence Theory of colour, that don’t like the colour blue. It would be interesting to ask Maple Leaf fans and non-Leaf fans how they felt about the colour blue.

Other theories state that colour has functions. For example, the colours you choose inform others about yourself, your family or your group. Or, certain objects are certain colours because of their high degree of visibility. According to one researcher, among the western Canadian Metis, many objects such as firebags, mitts, and whips were highly colourful so they wouldn’t get lost. ⁷ I can relate to this idea. When working in the boreal forest we tie bright orange flagging tape to our equipment so we don’t lose it in the dense foliage.

Whatever the reason(s), the choice of colour and the feelings we associate with it, is far from a random event. Whether we consciously know it, or not.

The Colours of the Automobiles We Drive

Before examining why people preferred certain glass bead colours historically, we’ll first look at colour choice in an object we all can relate to. The colour of our automobiles.

In a recent article in Autoloansolutions, the three main reasons people pick certain colours for their automobiles are: 1) Personal preference; 2) Resale value; and, 3) Bird droppings. ⁸

Yes, you read right. Bird Droppings! According to some studies, for whatever reason, birds like to dump most on red and blue cars.

As already suggested certain colours have certain meanings in human cultures and therefore signal to others something about you. In the automobile article, for example, black = intrigue/mystery; blue = confidence/integrity/stability; red = aggressive/expensive; white = innocence/purity.

However, according to colour symbolism experts, each of those same colours may have different meanings in different countries throughout the world. But, studies have shown, regardless of where you live on this planet and what those colours signify, black, white, and silver are the top colours for automobiles.

And this is where resale value comes in. If you want to eventually sell your car, you might pay attention to the most popular colours for cars (if they’re still in style when you want to sell). Given today’s colour preferences, no one’s going to buy that bright neon green auto of yours.

My Automobile Colour Study

I did a little automobile colour study in Alberta (Canada), Iceland, Istanbul (Turkey), and Stellenbasch (South Africa) this past year. I picked spots at random and counted the number of different car colours. My sample size ranged from 52 – 115. Today colours are no longer primary or secondary but different shades of grey, blue, silver and white; and a dizzying array thereof. I simply chose the one that was closest to a primary and secondary colour.

While there is considerable variation of colours of automobiles in various parts of the world, white, silver, and grey are amongst the most popular automobile colours when the four regions are combined. But when simply ranked on the ordinal scale (from 1 – 5), there are differences in colour preferences in the different regions. For example, white automobiles generally rank first in Iceland, Istanbul, and Stellenbasch, but not in central Alberta where grey cars rank first. Or, black ranks low in most countries, except in Istanbul, where it ranks third.

“Gray is the color of intellect and of compromise. It’s a diplomatic color, negotiating all the distance between black and white. We typically consider gray to be conservative, elegant, and cool, though it can be a bit mysterious. We think of gray as solemn and serious, the color of business suits and sophistication.”⁹

What theories about colour, including my automobile study, basically point out is that even though there is considerable overlap of colour choice among peoples throughout the world, there is often a difference in the ranking of those preferences in different parts of the world. And the meaning of those colours is not constant in the world. The meaning of black differs in the Muslim and Western world. Grey is considered a very conservative colour in the West. In China silver is a symbol of wealth, cleanliness, and purity; in Germany, sophistication.

The bottom line is that trying to interpret meaning from colour, only leads to a diverse array of possibilities. Many of which cannot be determined if we cannot ask people about them. Such as the historic period. That is because, if Ecological Valence Theory has any merit, people’s choices of colour are based on their associations and history with it – either bad, good or perhaps neutral. Many of those associations and histories are different to some degree. However, what is also interesting is that white, silver, and grey are all seen as positive, regardless of their different specific meanings.

Therefore, if we simplify these results, we might conclude that the most popular colours are associated with positive objects, feelings and meanings, regardless of what those are. When we dive into the murky past, this fundamental fact becomes important, because we cannot always determine precisely what meanings or significance of colours were for a diverse North American Indigenous population.

A Description of Fur Trade Glass Bead Colours in Historic Canada

“Oh I love all colours, I go to a store where they have beads and I imagine all kinds of flowers and I pick up everything when I’m in there – colours I don’t have. I must have over 200 kinds of colours…” (Isabelle Dorion Impey, Cumberland House, northern Saskatchewan, Canada) ¹⁰

Blue glass beads from the HBC Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA. ¹¹

Sources of Information and Accuracy About Historic Glass Bead Colours

Information about fur trade bead colours and varieties comes primarily from historic White written records and fur trade archaeological collections. And, unfortunately, less so from historic Indigenous written or oral accounts.

The accuracy of these types of historic evidence varies. Written accounts can be biased or records vague, or incomplete. But while there are problems, it should be kept in mind that Euro-Canadian traders had to be accurate about Indigenous bead preferences because their very business depended upon it.

Glass beads recovered from the fur trade archaeological record reflect both what was used by Indigenous women living in the forts and what was traded to Indigenous people regionally.

In this figure, the percent of glass trade beads found in the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) Nottingham House (c.1801-1803) inventories, listed as ‘Presents’, and those found in the archaeological remains at the site, were compared. In all three contexts, the ordinal ranking of colours was the same: blue beads always occurred in higher numbers than white beads. However, because these were samples coming from different contexts, the proportional differences in these three categories were not the same. Similar trends occur in other fur trade assemblages in both Canada and the United States. ¹²

Basic Characteristics of Colour and Its Description

To better understand glass bead colours we first have to know a few things about colour. Not only what different colours look like, but how they are categorized and described.

The standardization of different colours first started with Issac Newton’s colour wheel in 1666, and eventually to other standardized schemes including the Munsell colour system, developed by Albert Munsell in the early 1900s.

A three-dimensional representation of a Munsell Colour Wheel, showing hues (different colours), values (degree of darkness/lightness) and chroma (degree of brightness/saturation). Hues are divided into primary (red, blue, yellow), secondary (green, orange, purple) and tertiary colours (yellow-orange, red-orange….). Primary colours refer to the building blocks from which all other colours are derived. Also known as basic colours, as they can’t be recreated by colour mixing. Secondary colours refer to colour combinations created by an equal mixture of two primary colours. ¹³

The charts classify colours numerically based on three categories in three-dimensional space: hue, value (lightness/darkness), and chroma (intensity of colour). Hue refers to basic colours, such as red, green, blue, etc. In the Munsell system, these are given letter codes, i.e. Red (R), Yellow-Red (YR), Green (G), Green-Yellow (GY) and so on. Value is how light or dark a colour is. In the Munsell system, value is indicated with a number, i.e. 2, 4, 6 and so on. The value scale runs vertically and moves from lightest (at the top) to darkest (at the bottom) in descending order, so a 2 is going to be lighter than a 6. Chroma refers to the degree of strength of a colour. Chroma ranges from 2-14 (upwards of 30 for colours in the fluorescent family). Archaeologists, when researching glass bead colour, also refer to diaphaneity – the degree of transparency or opacity of a bead, or, the quantity of light that can travel through a bead.

However, the Munsell Colour Chart is not the Holy Grail of colours. Based on my personal experience, the problem with this colour scheme is threefold: 1) it wasn’t used historically to describe colours; so the historic colours don’t match the Munsell colour descriptions; 2) it isn’t used consistently by archaeologists; and, 3) people see colours of objects differently depending on their eyesight, the degree of light present, or even the degree of moisture in sediment, for example. These problems, added to the fact that glass bead batch colours were often not standardized, make for an interesting stew.

“All told, therefore, there is room for considerable variation in colour, and 18th-century and earlier beads differ considerably in this regard from those made in the 19th and 20th centuries when strict standardization became the rule.” ¹⁴

I am certain that European glass bead makers devised their bead colours using some sort of basic standard scheme, as some of the descriptions of historic bead colours suggest. For example in the Fort Union, Montana inventories, glass beads are listed as ‘blue, white, chalk white, red, green, black, yellow, coral, Cornelian, mock garnet, milk white, agate, sky blue, and purple. ¹⁵ While all the basic hues are listed, value, and chroma are absent or somehow embedded in the colour’s name. Milk or chalk white might be descriptors for diaphaneity, in this case likely ‘translucent’ or ‘opaque’. If you look up ‘Cornelian’, it refers to a variety of oranges and reds to almost black, which if we don’t have the bead, really doesn’t tell us much. And ‘sky blue’ likely refers to a bead’s value on the lightness/darkness scale, but where exactly is often difficult to determine from the name in the historic documents.

While determining a bead’s colour by using the various colour wheels has its drawbacks, the importance of these colour descriptions of glass beads recovered in the archaeological record is considerable, given the often poor, inconsistent historic documentary descriptions available. However, many of the archaeological bead colour descriptions are of our making, often based on the colour wheel such as Munsell’s. But, at least we can assign photographs of the beads with these descriptions, giving readers the opportunity of seeing these colours.

In the table below, is a word description of glass seed bead colours, from the American Fur Company (1858-59). Since colour wheels and some sort of standardization were already common then, would these colours also be similar to what we call them today?

A list of bead colours from the American Fur Company 1858-1859. This is as extensive as it gets. I have added the colours that these names refer to, assuming that some of the names have remained relatively consistent over the centuries. The different hues are apparent (e.g., blue, green, red…) But what ‘values’ and ‘chroma’ do these colours refer to? And the meaning of some of the colour descriptions such as ‘Hortentin’, and ‘Celestial’, is questionable. Often in the Canadian fur trade company inventories glass beads colours are simply listed as ‘assor’t colours’. Generally blue and white beads are listed separately but after that, it’s hit or miss. ¹⁶

Before delving further into glass bead colour, my final warning is that at a comparative level, between different glass bead assemblages collected archaeologically, the data are a minefield to be trodden through carefully. And so is the photography of different glass bead colours in the available publications. According to archaeologist Steven Devore, there is colour distortion when looking at photographed beads. He is one of the few researchers who try to get around this problem by using a colour bar in his photographs and describing exactly what Munsell colour it represents. I have borrowed his idea and applied it to some of the figures below.

Glass trade beads from the American Fort Union (c.1829-67) fur trade post. ¹⁷ Devore put a colour bar under each bead photograph and gave the bar a specific Munsell colour. White = N9.5/0; Blue = 7.5PB4/12; Yellow = 5Y8/12; Strong red = 5R4/12; Black = N2/0. Purists can then compare his bar to their Munsell colour chart to determine the amount of photographic distortion.

Archaeologists come in two forms when it comes to categorizing glass bead colour. There are ‘lumpers’ and there are ‘splitters’. Some archeologists have used the Munsell Colour chart extensively (listing hue, value, and chroma); others to a lesser extent when analyzing bead colours. Still, others haven’t bothered with variety/shades of colours. They use mostly colour hue in their descriptions, with some degree of ‘value’ (light, medium, dark), and ‘diaphaneity’ (transparent, translucent, opaque). As we shall see shortly, both methods have their advantages and disadvantages.

Below is an example of a range of glass bead colours taken from both American and Canadian fur trade forts from western North America. The colour varieties go from one extreme to the other and are often difficult to compare unless the actual bead is illustrated in colour.

Bead Color	NWC George (1792-1800)	Nottingham House (1801-03)	Fort D’Tremble (1791-98)	Fort Union (1829-67)	Fort Vancouver (1829-66)
Amber				x	x
Light amber					x
Reddish amber
Yellowish amber					x
Amethyst				x
Opaque black	x	x	x	x	x
Blue	x	x	x	x	x
Light blue			x	x	x
Shadow blue		x	x
Turquoise blue		x	x	x
Aqua blue			x
Dark blue	x			x
Dutch blue		x
Medium blue		x
Dusty blue		x
Copen blue		x
Grayish blue					x
Purplish blue					x
Light purplish blue					x
Dark purplish blue					x
Dark brown	x
Cinnamon			x
Colorless	x			x	x
Green	x	x	x	x	x
Light green				x
Dark pale green		x	x	x	x
Aqua green		x		x	x
Apple green			x
Palm green		x	x		x
Yellowish green					x
Light gold		x	x
Light gray		x	x
Pink				x	x
Light pink					x
Light purple					x
Bluish purple					x
Light reddish purple					x
Dark purple				x	x
Red	x				x
Red-blue	x
Brownish red
Light red			x
Dark red				x	x
Dark purplish red					x
Opague redwood		x	x
Rose				x
Light cherry rose		x
Rose wine	x	x	x
Ruby		x	x
Scarlet				x
Turquoise			x
Bright turquoise			x
Opague white	x	x	x	x	x
Oyster white		x
Pale yellow white					x
Yellow	x		x	x	x
Greenish yellow					x
Varieties =	11	20	21	19	29
Basic colors =	8	6	8	9	9

The presence of glass bead colour hues and varieties (according to value, chroma, and diaphaneity). Some archaeologists list basic hues and diaphaneity, and perhaps a value. While others, such as Lester Ross, National Parks Service, go into considerably more detail in glass bead colour description. I will consider Ross’s bead colour descriptions in more detail below.

Archaeologist Wayne Davis lists glass bead colours for twenty-six historic fur trade sites and Indigenous sites in Canada and the USA, but keeps it relatively simple: white, blue, black, green, yellow, red, pink, purple, turquoise, amber, grey, magenta, orange, clear, and violet. Each of those basic colours could be opaque, translucent, or transparent, resulting in a slightly different value and chroma, and thus ultimately a different shade of colour. ¹⁸

Bead Color	Period I: 1700-1740	Period II: 1741-67	Period IIIa: 1768-80	Period IIIb: 1781-1820	Period IV: 1821-36	1837-1850
Brittany		x
Blue op	x	xxx	x		xxx	xx
Gobelin		x
Blue tls		x		x	xxx
Fern green		x				x
Black	xxxxx	xxx	xxx	xxx	xxx	xx
White op	xxxxx	x	xxxx		xxxxxx	xxx
Magenta op				x
Magenta-black					xx
Red op				x	xxxx	x
Amber-black
Green op		x			xxxx	xx
Yellow op		x			xxx	x
Purple					xxxx	x
Brown, dark					xx
Yellow-black					xx
blue tls	x			x	xx
Green, tsl					xxxxxx
Clear	xx			x	xxx	xx
Magenta tsl					xx
Light Blue tsl		x			xx	x
Dark Blue tsl	xx	x	x	xx	xxx
Violet tsl					x
Maroon op					x
Green, dark op					x
Violet-black					x
Amber tsl	x	xx			xxx	xx
Pink tsl				x	x
Red tsl			xxxxxx		xxxxxx	xx
Navy blue				x
Pale green tsl				x
Dark violet tsl				x		x
Dark red tsl				x
Sky blue op		x				xx
Peacock blue tsl	x	x			x	xxx
Yellow, tsl		xx
Emerald green		xx		x	x
Pink op						x
Yale blue tsl					xxx	xxx
Dark green tsl						x
Yellow-amber tsl						x
Turquoise op	x	x	xx		xx	xx
Dark wine stsl						x
Gold op						x
White tsl	x	x			x	xx
Bronze op						x
Bright orange						x
Yellow-orange						x
Cobalt blue tsl					x
Jade green op					x	x
Indigo blue					x
Peacock blue op					xx
Robin’s egg blue op					xx
Dark purple tsl					x
Brilliant blue tsl					x
Yellow op					xx
Aquamarine op					xx
Peacock green op					x
Yale blue op					x
Surf green op					x
Heliotrope op					x
Pearl white		x
Chrystal				x
Total Varieties	10	19	6	14	42	27

***(tsp = transparent; tsl = translucent; op = opaque)

Wayne Davis’s glass trade bead colours were taken from 26 trading posts and First Nations archaeological sites from the USA and Canada. The glass beads range from as early as c.1700 to c.1850. The x’s in each column represent how often the various glass bead colour types occur in each period found in the various collections. Because the number of sites and beads in each period varies, the number of colour varieties may not be a true reflection of preference for each period. However, after 1820 when fur trade posts were established further west in the USA, and direct trading at posts began there is a greater proliferation of bead colour varieties. This increase in varieties may have more to do with glass bead assemblages coming from trading posts instead of Indigenous campsites.

I have taken Lester Ross’s glass bead colour scheme and presented his colours, to give you some idea of the range and variation in glass bead colour. Often it is considerable, even in just one primary colour. This enormous collection of over 120,000 beads, spanning a considerable period likely contains every possible bead colour ever sent to the fort. It would reflect what the Hudson’s Bay Company would have in stock at the time in that region. I personally, after looking a many fur trade assemblages, rarely see beads outside Ross’s bead colour range. The exceptions may be gold and silver beads which are more common in the latter part of the 19th century.

An example of basic information about glass beads found at the HBC Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA. The authors cross-reference their glass beads with those of Kidd& Kidd’s classification system whenever possible. Chroma is used differently than the standard means (which is found in the Munsell colour description). Here it simply refers to whether a bead is single-coloured (monochrome) or multi-coloured (polychrome). ¹⁹

Below are examples of Ross’s Fort Vancouver glass bead colour varieties. I have listed the Munsell code under each colour so that if you wish you can check these published colours against those found in the Munsell colour chart. I found, even when pasting certain colours into a word program that the colours occasionally changed slightly.

These different coloured glass trade beads represent the potential selection of colours Indigenous people had in the western United States. But, which ones did they choose most and prefer? ²⁰

Historic References to Indigenous Colour Preference and Meaning

I was fascinated by an article about the use of colour on the Northwest Coast, written in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, by Melonie Ancheta. ²¹ In it she makes two very important points about the meaning and use of colour: 1) Northwest Coast First Nations had a long history (before colonization) of using colours – primarily black, red, blue and green; and, 2) these colours were integrated into their culture, their, “…cosmologies, rituals and daily life…”

And, as Ancheta points out, there were long-standing rules, or customs, of ways of using these colours and painting specific pieces of art or spiritual attire. Or certain colours were associated with certain segments of Northwest Coast society. Blue (made from vivianite), ²² for example was more associated with shamans, clan treasures, ceremonial objects, and reserved for nobility in Tlingit society.

Haida female portrait mask with labret and facial tattooing, Peabody Essex Museum, E3843. According to Ancheta, “On three-dimensional pieces such as rattles and masks, the fields are not so clearly demarcated. For instance, the eyebrows on masks are usually painted black, red fills the lips and nostrils, and blue or green, if present, represent the color of skin or “tattooing.”²³

My point is, that before European contact, many primary colours (red, yellow, blue, green, white, black) ²⁴ were already well-established in North American Indigenous societies. There were likely rules for their use (now mostly lost) and meaning behind them. Glass trade beads, and the various colours they came in, were integrated into already well-established Indigenous traditional schemes.

Since blue was difficult to make, it’s not surprising to find historic quotes stating that on North America’s Northwest Coast, many First Nations tribes valued blue glass trade beads the most. Just how the introduction of these beads, now more readily acquired by anyone who would trade, affected traditional uses of the colour (which because the mineral vivianite was hard to acquire and therefore relegated to only certain objects and people), is a question worth considering. ²⁵

And on the Great Plains of North America, various First Nations societies had similar preferences. Here are a few examples:

Among the Arikara: “…any object which exceeds that of a buffalo robe. Ammunition, knives, spears, blue beads, tomahawks, and framed mirrors are the only articles for which they are willing to exchange their robes.” ²⁶

Among the Sioux: “The blue bead, as precious here as porcelain among the nations of the Mississippi…” ²⁷

Archaeologist Wayne Davis summarizes colour preferences (supported by numerous historic quotes), by North American Plains First Nations this way:

“As these different excerpts seem to suggest, blue and white, in that order, were without question the most popular colors for all the Plains’ tribes, as well as for many of the tribes in the Pacific Northwest and elsewhere.” ²⁸

Undoubtedly as the archaeological glass bead samples suggest, although Indigenous people used other bead colours, blue and white glass trade beads were by far the most common. In 1854, for example, according to ethnographer, Edwin Denig discussing glass bead colour preference on the Upper Missouri, “Small round beads of all colors are used in adorning every portion of their dress.” ²⁹

It is evident then, that there was also a great deal of commonality in glass bead colour preference amongst different Indigenous groups over a large geographical area. As an example, western Plains and coastal peoples preferred blue and white beads over all others. Archaeologist Steven DeVore (1992:60-61) states that blue, white and black were generally the most popular colours amongst Northern Plains First Nations, but red, green, yellow, and lavender were also used but in smaller quantities. ³⁰

During the initial contact period in the mid to late 18th Century, Alaskan First Nations peoples preferred blue and white beads most, but used other bead colours as well. ³¹

According to ethnologist Kate Duncan (1989:44) the Fort Yukon journals indicate that there was a definite change in bead colour preference by the late 1860s to more of a demand for amber, crystal, blue, white, black, red, and ruby. As well, in other parts of the northwest, more variation in bead colours occurs temporally ³²

According to Alexander Henry for the Assiniboine during the late 18th to early 19th Century, the most sought-after trade goods included, “…brass rings, brass wire, blue beads, and other trinkets.” ³³

Others, however, suggest that not only were blue beads the most highly valued but that certain colours had meaning or rules about where they could be worn. “The women ornament their dresses….with broad diversified stripes of sky to blue and white beads. The Indians do not like beads of other colours, for instance, red next to the skin.”³⁴

When the Kutchin people met Alexander MacKenzie they demanded blue beads over all others. ³⁵

Unfortunately, virtually nothing is said about the degree of variability of colour preference within specific First Nations groups or other potential temporal changes of colour preference between First Nations groups. According to Duncan (1989:78), there was individual variability in colour preference and regional preferences even among Athabascan-speaking people. Pink, aqua and green beads dominated Eastern Athabascan beadwork, while white, navy, green, red, pink, greasy yellow, and green dominated western Athabascans. ³²

If we can generalize, these are the predominant glass trade bead colours used historically by First Nations, Inuit, and Metis people:

Sioux: white background, bold blues, yellow, shades of green and pink;
Cheyenne: white background, more turquoise and transparent beads, red;
Ojibwa: multi-coloured backgrounds, dark red, clear, and black;
Cherokee: more black in beading than other First Nations groups;
Eastern Woodland: floral patterns and lots of multi-coloured designs;
North West Coast: heavy emphasis on dark blue, and white;
Blackfoot: white background, heavy emphasis on blue beads; other colours used sparingly;
Dene: multi-coloured backgrounds and many colours used in designs; greater emphasis on blue further west;
Inuit: white and many black beads;
Metis: “the more colours, the better.” (Bertha Desjarlais) ³⁶

Unfortunately, there are only a few references, such as Duncan’s, in the literature about any continuity of colour use from the prehistoric to the initial contact period, and beyond, in western North America. According to Alexander Mackenzie, at the time of contact, quill work and moose hair were the primary decorative embroidery in the Northwest Territories using natural dyes of red, black, yellow, white, and blue. ³⁷

SITE/REGION	Volume (lbs)	White (%)	Blue (%)	Other (%)
HBC Inland, western Canada, 1799	330.5	25.3	48.4	26.3
NWC Inland, western Canada, 1792	113.0	33.0	67.0	–
HBC Nottingham House Inventory, 1803	7.75	38.7	61.3	–
Nottingham House – Presents or Traded, 1803	3.0	33.0	66.0	–
Fort Union, 1840 Inventory	1,728	46.8	53.2	–

Glass trade bead inventories from three different sources, ranging from 1792 – 1840. These figures show not only how extensive the trade of glass beads was but that blue and white were by far the most preferred colours among Indigenous people living on the Northern Great Plains to people much further north in the Athabasca region of Northern Alberta, Canada.

But, by the late 18th century, and then by the end of the 19th century the glass bead colour palette was extensive. Glass bead styles and colours were in high demand in the Indigenous world. And if not met, trade suffered:

^{“….the frustrations involved in trying to ensure an up-to-date inventory of beads of acceptable size and color for a market that changed faster than the time required to order and receive goods from England.”}^{(Trader Alexander Murray, Fort Yukon)} ³⁸

Colour as a Means of Communication

“People give objects meaning, but cultural meaning is rarely stable. Objects and clothing actions that had significance in certain historic contexts are sometimes forgotten, while others endure for generations.”³⁹

Different colours can have meaning – which is often very elusive to determine historically, as the above quote suggests. But, at a more base level, colour can also be used as a means of communication, and thereby carry information and meaning. For example, different colours or colour combinations can be used to communicate one’s ethnic affiliation and social position to others. Historically we may be able to reconstruct ethnic affiliation (i.e., certain groups using a specific array of colours or proportionally more of one colour than others) and social position (i.e, the use of a certain colour by certain individuals in a group) by simply aligning various colours with different ethnic groups or sub-groups.

Colour and bead patterns can therefore be examined using different units of analysis of comparison. In historical archaeology, unlike most prehistoric archaeology, we often have an accompanying historic record to help identify and define those units of analysis, enabling us to then investigate whether people, regionally, in communities or individually used colour as a means of social expression. There are hints that indeed this might be true. But, as we have seen it is difficult, if not impossible, to examine this question with fur trade post inventories, because the records are often incomplete or vague to use for comparative purposes.

According to those historic records, colour, including that of glass trade beads, defined groups and social positions (i.e., rank, gender).

Regional Level: According to Sherry Farrell Racette, when discussing Metis beadwork and colours: “The vitality of the colour palette of nineteenth century beadwork and embroidery corresponds with the comparative prosperity and vigor of that collective identity. Smaller Half Breed collectives, not associated with the Métis, also used clothing and common aesthetics to communicate distinctiveness.” ⁴⁰

2. Community Level: Distinctions between communities are often also expressed in bead colour differences: “Small decorative elements could also distinguish the work of one community from another. Moccasins made in Ile à la Crosse, particularly those made by the grandmothers of the community, have a distinct visual marker that identifies their community of origin. Three to four rows of alternating deep blue and white beads outline the beaded vamps. The same blue and white border is used on cuffs and other pieces of beadwork. Within the larger aesthetic tradition, regions, communities and individuals developed recognizable styles.” ⁴¹

3. Family level: “Some elders recalled specific colours and designs associated with particular families. I remember] that story my grandfather told me about the sashes and it was in the context of him lamenting that you couldn’t leave your stuff out any more that people just stole it. He said that long ago you didn’t do that because people knew what was yours. If you had it wrapped with your sash everybody knew it was yours because of the colours the family used. They knew that it belonged to the Bouviers, or it belonged to the Gardiner’s or to the Daigneault’s. It was essentially a way of marking.” ⁴²

4. Individual Level: Among Metis men, different coloured hats distinguished them from white gentlemen and officers. “Cowie described “low, broad brimmed black hats” worn by the Métis, while “grey felt” was worn by “gentlemen and officers.” Age was also a factor in headgear chosen by “younger Metis [who] favored rather than the hat, pill box caps of fine black cloth or velvet, adorned with beads or colored silk work and a large black silk tassel attached to the crown.” ⁴³

What the Archaeological Record Reveals About Bead Colour Preference

“It is doubtful if comprehensive examination of all records for a number of posts over a period of time would yield a clear understanding of beads traded there, particularly since the bead company records to help in the clarification of terms, sizes, and colors are not available.” ⁴⁴

Ethnographers have essentially dismissed the reliability of historic fur trade fort records to provide accurate information about Indigenous glass trade bead preferences, including colour.

What about the archaeological records in western Canada? Are they a reliable source of information about Indigenous bead colour preferences? Where we often find thousands of glass trade beads at these forts. It seems, here too there are problems. Let’s investigate a few of them.

Researcher Bias in Glass Bead Colours – A Small, but Necessary Diversion

What is it about these archaeological assemblages that might make us hesitate to use them to investigate Indigenous bead colour preference? Two types of bias come to mind: 1) whether fort bead assemblages truly represent what Indigenous people used in a region; and, 2) whether there is any bias in the way the beads were collected.

In the first instance, most glass bead assemblages come from excavated fur trade sites and very few historic indigenous encampments or settlements in western Canada. Is it safe to interpret outside (the fort) Indigenous bead colour preference directly from these fort assemblages which represent both what beads were traded to people bringing in their furs and what Indigenous people living at the forts were consuming?

However, the fort inventories, representing what bead colours were traded or gifted to Indigenous people do seem to be similar (on an ordinal scale of comparison) to the fort bead archaeological assemblages. ⁴⁵

Occasionally there are instances where direct proof can be obtained, such as comparing a historic fort bead sample directly to an Indigenous camp sample to see how similar they were.

Archaeologist, Aaron Crowell was able to make such a comparison. ³¹ He compared the Indigenous encampment bead samples to the fort bead assemblages. I summarized Crowell’s results below. In terms of proportions, and ordinal rank the two later period (post-1830) bead colours were very similar.

In this figure, when bead colours are categorized simply to ‘white’, ‘blue’ and ‘other’, the relative percentages collected for the post-1830 Indigenous and fort assemblages are relatively similar, while bead colour proportions collected from those pre-1830 assemblages are considerably different from the later period assemblage. They contain fewer ‘other’ colours and a greater proportion of blue beads.

The second problem with the archaeological bead assemblage involves recovery bias. Seed beads, less than 2mm in diameter, are the most common type of bead. They are hard to see when excavating and historically some of the darker-coloured beads may have been more easily lost if accidentally dropped. While it’s virtually impossible to verify the latter inference, we can examine whether our methods might be biased toward the recovery of more visible coloured beads (white, and yellow, for example).

Just to give you some appreciation of glass bead size, consider trying to find these beads while excavating. They range from small to tiny. Once we get into the latter half o the nineteenth century, some seed beads are 1mm or less in diameter.

Some archaeological studies suggest there is no bias in bead colour recovery during excavations. ⁴⁶

In this experiment conducted by Bundy et. al., a one-metre square was divided into four quadrants. Only the NW quadrant was fine-screened (1mm mesh screen) while the other three quadrants were screened using regular screening methods (~6.4mm mesh). The results indicate there is virtually no difference in either the recovery of different-sized or different-coloured beads. Suggesting of course that the more visible white seed beads are not being found more easily than other darker coloured beads. ⁴⁷

While excavating at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) site we conducted a similar experiment to see if we could replicate the Bundy et. al results. As the figures below show, our results differed considerably from theirs. Not only did we recover proportionally more seed beads (twenty-three percent more) in the fine screens, but also proportionally more of the darker bead colours. ⁴⁸

Results obtained when comparing glass seed bead colours obtained from fine-screened (1mm mesh) and regular-screened samples at Fort Vermilion I, Alberta, Canada. Our results show there is a bias toward the recovery of the more visible white seed beads when fine-mesh screens are not used.

So, as you can see, most types of historic evidence used to examine Indigenous bead colour preference have their setbacks. Including the archaeological record. Those deficiencies must be kept in mind when considering my following interpretations about Indigenous bead colour preference.

Temporal and Regional Trends in Archaeological Bead Assemblages

Despite difficulties with the archaeological evidence can we still discern some trends in the glass trade bead data that inform on Indigenous glass bead colour preference in western Canada? And, the meaning of, or factors responsible for, those trends?

In a 2015 monograph describing the Fort Vermilion I archaeological results I undertook an extensive investigation of the archaeological bead assemblage and Indigenous colour preference. ⁴⁹ Consult this source for a more in-depth look at my results. And, where I feel more detail is necessary here, I will include it in the footnotes.

My glass bead samples come primarily from fur trade posts in Alberta, Canada, but occasionally I incorporate evidence from further afield.

The location of some of the fur trade posts described in this study. The Hudson’s Bay Company divided the then-Northwest Territories of Canada into major districts. In Alberta, the Athabasca and Saskatchewan Districts each had a major headquarters (Fort Chipewyan in the Athabasca District; Fort Edmonton in the Saskatchewan District). The Company supplied the district forts with trade goods that the Indigenous populations of those areas preferred. Preferences varied, for glass beads for example, over this vast region which consisted of mostly Dene and Cree peoples in the Athabasca Region and Blackfoot, Cree, and Assiniboine peoples in the Saskatchewan District. Eventually, a large Metis population would inhabit both regions,

Below is a list of glass bead assemblages from fur trade forts and other historic sites used in this study. Although there are more archaeological assemblages, not all of them were used because some cover long periods and therefore are inadequate to examine possible glass bead colour changes over more discrete periods of time.

For the first comparisons I have simplified the bead colour palette because of the many different ways glass bead colours have been described in the literature. Also, historically blue and white were the most common or popular colours. And the most profound changes, either temporally or ethnically (e.g., Dene vs Blackfoot) occurred in the proportions of the use of these two colours but also the use of a more different or diverse range of colours either temporally or regionally. This then leaves us with three basic bead colour categories: 1) white; 2) blue; and, 3) other (all other coloured beads). Even though there are many hues of blues or whites, I have simply lumped them all together for these comparisons.

I also divided the available glass trade bead assemblages into broad categories representing time and space. These divisions were chosen for practical and historical reasons. Unfortunately, not all fur trade sites were occupied in neat discreet units of time. This unevenness makes it difficult to examine bead colour preferences over time. ⁵⁰

Secondly, according to Kate Duncan ³² and Karlis Karklins ⁵¹ somewhere around 1830, the Indigenous floral design in embroidery and beadwork continued to spread to northwestern North America from its place of origin in eastern Canada. How did this change from the use of primarily geometric patterns to floral designs by Indigenous populations affect the proportions of the above bead categories? Surely flower designs weren’t just blue and white.

Therefore, based on these historic circumstances, I divided the bead assemblages into those that represented the pre-1830 period and those that represented the post-1830 period to answer this question.

Based on historic paintings and ethnographical references, after European contact not only are the designs used by some First Nations and Metis people different, but the proportions of either thread or bead colours may also have changed. Metis were also renowned for their use of floral design motifs and their rich array of colour schemes. In other words, they all used an array of thread and bead colours to decorate their belongings, but it is difficult to document how the proportions of these colours varied over time and space.

Nor were the various Indigenous groups relegated to discreet geographical areas. Boundaries were fluid and overlap occurred. To complicate things even more, as the population of people of mixed ancestry (white-first Nations unions) grew, most women (partners of fort employees) living at the fur trade forts were of Metis origin. However, as the above diagram shows First Nations groups who used a mostly geometric design occupied the southern parts of the Saskatchewan District and those that used a floral design lived mostly in the Athabaska District. Metis people, highly renowned for their floral embroidery and beadwork, resided in both districts.

Fort/Region Pre-1830	TOTAL	% White	% Blue	% Other
Athabasca District Posts
Nottingham House ⁵²	3,181	46.0	29.0	25.0
Wedderburn ⁵³	89	34.8	57.3	7.9
Boyer River Post ⁵⁴	78	48.0	40.0	12.0
Fort Vermilion I (1999-2004 sample) ⁵⁵	114	60.5	34.2	5.3
Fort Vermilion I (2014-16 sample) ⁵⁶	1460	50.8	35.7	13.5
Fork ⁵⁷	43	11.6	16.3	72.1
Rocky Mountain Fort ⁵⁸	4,014	47.6	19.0	32.8
Lac La Biche Post ⁵⁹	20	70.0	15.0	15.0
TOTAL	–	44	31.2	24.14

Saskatchewan District Posts
Piegan Post ⁶⁰	13	46.2	53.8	0.0
HBC Rocky Mountain House ⁶¹	10,633	69.0	30.1	0.9
NWC Rocky Mountain House ⁶²	6,473	42.8	52.6	4.7
Augustus/Edmonton I ⁶³	12	66.7	33.3	0.0
Augustus/Edmonton III ⁶⁴	703	36.7	50.1	13.4
Buckingham House ⁶⁴	594	43.4	43.3	13.3
Fort George ⁶⁵	20,588	67.0	20.0	13.0
Paint Earth House ⁶⁶	125	24.8	52.8	22.4
Fort D’Tremblante ⁶⁷	19,647	53	33	14
TOTAL	–	49	41.8	9.2

List of fur trade fort glass bead assemblages dated before 1830 from the Athabasca and Saskatchewan Districts.

Fort/Region Post-1830	TOTAL	% White	% Blue	% Other
Athabasca District Posts
Fort Vermilion II ⁶⁸	410	30.2	24.9	44.1
Dunvegan ⁶⁹	54	40.7	27.8	31.5
All Northern Posts	454	35.5	26.9	37.8
Saskatchewan District Posts
Fort Victoria ⁷⁰	803	0.9	72.0	27.1
Edmonton V ⁷¹	80	48.8	33.8	17.5
Jasper House ⁷²	906	20.8	40.8	38.4
All Saskatchewan River Posts	1789	23.5	48.9	27.7

List of fur trade posts, dated post-1830 and their respective glass bead assemblages.

Indigenous Dunvegan, Burial ^#1 (Early)	275	62.9	36.7	0.4
Indigenous Dunvegan, Burial ^#2 (Early)	~6,500	Primarily white and blue	–	–
Dunvegan, Hearth (?)	2	50.0	50.0	0.0
Peace Point (First Nations)	2	50.0	0.0	50.0
Alaska Sites (Pre-1830)	1,093	29.7	41.7	16.8
Kolmakovskiy – Russion Alaska Fur Trade post (1870-1917)	1,541	38.1	21.7	37.9
Alaska Indigenous Sites (Post-1830)	1,096	43.8	19.7	33.4
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen Early (pre-1800)	16	87.5	6.3	6.3
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen (1820-1850)	161	58.4	7.5	52.8
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen (1850-1880)	12	0.0	41.7	58.3

Site/Region	TOTAL	%White	%Blue	%Other
Indigenous Dunvegan, Burial ^#1 (Early) ⁷³	275	62.9	36.7	0.4
Indigenous Dunvegan, Burial ^#2 (Early) ⁷³	~6,500	Primarily white and blue
Dunvegan, Hearth (?) ⁷³	2	50.0	50.0	0.0
Peace Point (First Nations) ⁷⁴	2	50.0	0	50.0
Alaska Sites (Pre-1830) ⁷⁵	1,093	29.7	41.7	16.8
Buffalo Lake Metis, Cabin 3 ⁷⁶	1,541	38.1	21.7	37.9
Alaska Indigenous Sites (Post-1830) ⁷⁷	1,096	43.8	19.7	33.4
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen Early (pre-1800) ⁷⁷	16	87.5	6.3	6.3
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen (1820-1850) ⁷⁷	161	58.4	7.5	52.8
MacKenzie District – Gwitchen (1850-1880) ⁷⁷	12	0.0	41.7	58.3
Buffalo Lake Metis, Cabin 3 ⁷⁸	3,218	2.1	13.8	84.1
Cypress Hills Metis, Cabin B ⁷⁹	220	1.8	81.8	16.4
Cypress Hills Metis, Cabin E ⁷⁹	26	0.0	73.1	26.9
Victoria Metis Settlement ⁸⁰		14.3	42.9	42.9
Batoche, Latendre Metis ⁸¹	82	19.5	18.3	56.1
Red Deer River Forks Metis ⁸²	24	12.5	62.5	25.0
Fort Chipewyan III-IV (1803-1872) ⁸³	56	16.1	67.9	16.1
Rosebud, Burial (c.1855) ⁸⁴	618	90.0	6.6	3.4
Last Mountain Post ⁸⁵	56,929	19.6	23.4	57.0
For Union (Montana, USA) ⁸⁶	38,490	34.8	42.7	22.5

Other First Nations, Metis and fur trade fort bead assemblages.

Glass Bead Colour Proportions

“When glass beads became available to the Athapaskans in sufficient quantity for embroidery, they were readily applied to garments and accessories in the decorative traditions already established using porcupine quills and seeds. Beads were definitely present among some Athapaskans in both the east and the west sometime during the eighteenth century, but the details of their arrival remain lost to history.” ⁸⁷

Not only was the first adoption of glass beads by Athabascan speakers murky but so also were bead colour preferences by various other historic Indigenous groups in western Canada. Did those colour preferences change over time?

I will first examine this question with two northern fur trade bead assemblages spanning the pre- and post-1830 periods – Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830-1934). Both forts are located in northern Alberta along the Peace River approximately eighty kilometres apart from one another. Both forts served a primarily northern Athapaskan population, but to a lesser extent also Cree and Metis. The results of the comparison of their respective bead colour proportions are shown below. There was a considerable increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 Fort Vermilion II assemblage.

A comparison of the three bead colour categories between the two forts shows a considerable increase in the use of other bead colours, aside from white and blue.

In the next comparison, I combined all the fur trade fort bead assemblages and then divided them into two time periods. The results, shown below, indicated that there is an increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 bead assemblages.

Comparison of bead colour preference from all regions between the two major periods. There is a significant increase in the proportions of ‘other’ colours of beads in the post-1830 assemblages.

Since we are also interested in comparing possible regional differences in bead colour preferences, I divided the bead assemblages into both time (pre-1830) and space (Northern and Central/Southern). The results, shown below, indicate that not only do bead colour preferences change over time, but also regionally. But, at different rates. Over time, there is a far greater increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the northern bead assemblages (31%) than in central/southern bead assemblages (19%).

This comparison suggests that while bead colour preference changes over time in both study regions the difference in change is significantly greater in the northern bead assemblages than the central/southern bead assemblages.

Are these changes in bead colour preferences just a regional phenomenon or are they more widespread than just in Western Canada? Although currently my database is limited to examine this question more thoroughly, the results (shown below), suggest it is more widespread. ⁸⁸ But, again there is a far higher rate of change in the ‘other ‘ bead category in these northern assemblages than in those further south. When all the northern assemblages (Athabasca, Mackenzie, Alaska) combined are compared to southern assemblages there is a 26% increase in the former and only 16% in the latter (shown in the table below).

While the changes in these bead colour proportions are real enough, finding explanations for them is somewhat more difficult. Especially when we consider that various different ethnic groups inhabited each region. The crux of the issue comes down to this: even though different Indigenous groups occupied each region, their greater spatial proximity to one another (than to people in other regions) resulted in more similar use of bead colours. Is spatial proximity that powerful a factor, despite considerable Indigenous ethnic diversity in a region, to create continuity in bead colour choice?

Unfortunately, currently, I don’t have the kind of data to explore this possibility in more detail. Numerous historic references seem to support this view. Our automobile colour study also seems to suggest as much despite the considerable ethnic diversity in some of those countries (more so in Canada and South Africa than Iceland and Turkey).

Number of Glass Bead Colour Varieties

While there seem to be differences in bead colour proportions temporally and regionally, exactly what was changing? The above bead colour categories mask some of the changes that might be occurring in the ‘other’ bead colour category. Were more bead colour varieties being added temporally or regionally to account for these higher proportions? Or were only certain colours in the ‘other’ category being used more frequently thereby increasing the relative proportions in the ‘other’ bead colour category?

Source/Fort	Median Occupation Date	Bead Colour Varieties	Total Beads
Davis	1720	10	N/A
Davis	1754	19	N/A
Davis	1774	6	N/A
Fort D’Tremblante	1794	20	20119
Fort George	1796	11	20894
Buckingham House	1796	N/A
Augustus/Edmonton I	1798.5	4	12
Rocky Mountain Fort	1799	9	17176
Davis	1800.5	14
Nottingham House	1802	20	2887
Rocky Mountain House (HBC)	1810	7	10832
Rocky Mountain House (NWC)	1810	26	6512
Edmonton/Augustus III	1811.5	14	1308
Vermilion I	1814	13	1460
Wedderburn	1828	9	81
Davis	1828.5	42	N/A
Davis	1843.5	27	N/A
Fort Union	1848	19	38490
Vancouver	1847.5	29	55000
Fort Edmonton V	1867.5	12	80
Last Mountain House	1871	21	60063
Vermilion II	1880	11	419
Fort Victoria	1881	16	803
Dunvegan	1898	8	27
Mean: Median Dates	*1720 – 1828*	13
*Mean: Median Dates*	*1828.5 – 1898*	*19.4*

Data come from the same sources cited in an earlier Table. The median occupation date refers to the central date of occupation for a fort. For example, if a fort was occupied from 1800 – 1810, the median occupation date would be 1805.

While seemingly straightforward forward this is a very difficult question to answer with bead archaeological assemblages. Namely, because bead colour variety is not just a function of what people used historically. It is also dependent on archaeological sample size, and even archaeological site occupation length. ⁸⁹

I took what available data there was regarding bead colour variety and made some preliminary comparisons. In these comparisons, bead colour variety refers to all bead colours, including shades of white and blue. Although the historic documentary literature points toward a greater variety of bead colours in the market over time, this does not necessarily mean that people used more of them. The raw data for these comparisons are shown in the table below.

The scattergram below, comparing the median archaeological site occupation dates (X-Axis) to the number of bead colour varieties (Y-Axis) seems to confirm this observation. There was no steady increase in the number of glass bead colours over time.

The relationship between median archaeological site occupation date and the number of glass bead colour varieties. The results show that through time there is a great deal of variability in the number of bead colour varieties present at these sites. While there may have been a greater number of varieties to choose from in the latter part of the 19th century, at this level of comparison this greater choice did not occur. ⁹⁰

When the mean variety of bead colours is compared between sites with occupation dates before and after c.1828 there is an increase (from 13 to 19.4 colour varieties in the total sample and from 15 to 19.3 colour varieties in the samples with high bead numbers). However, despite this increase, statistically the means are the same. ⁹¹

The above results suggest there was considerable variability in several glass bead colour varieties through both time and space. Keeping space constant (comparing assemblages of different periods within a region), I wanted to see first if differences existed. I examined bead colour variety between Fort Vermilion I and II – two forts in the same region but from different periods. The results shown in the figure below along with comparisons between regions and time, do not show the expected trend of the use of more colour varieties through time. Nor do they show what the comparisons of bead colour proportions showed – namely a greater use of ‘other’ colours in the northern bead assemblages.

Comparison of the Mean number of glass bead colours over time and regionally.

It seems, therefore, that the greater proportional use of ‘other’ bead colours either temporally or regionally (i.e., higher in the northern bead assemblages than the Saskatchewan District assemblages), is not a function of the use of a greater variety of bead colours.

If it’s not the result of a selection of greater bead colour variety, then why do the proportions of the ‘other’ bead colour category increase over time and regionally? Let’s take a specific example where bead colour proportions change through time but bead colour remains relatively similar – Fort Vermilion I and II. Below is a breakdown of the glass bead colours recovered from the two forts.

*Fort Vermilion I (2014-16 sample)*			*Fort Vermilion II*
Colour	Quantity	Percent	Quantity	Percent
Black	17	9	0	0
Clear	4	2	1	1
Dark Indigo	22	11	0	0
Turquoise	1	0.5	2	1
Grey	1	0.5	1	1
Pink on Green	18	9	0	0
Pink	4	2	81	49
Pink, medium	2	1	0	0
Dark Purple	3	2	2	1
Red	41	21	42	25
Yellow	79	41	8	5
Green	0	0	26	16
Total	192	99	163
Total Bead Sample	1460
Total Colours	11		8

Comparison of glass bead colours (other than white or blue) from Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830 – 1930). The total bead sample size for Fort Vermilion II is 419. ⁹²

The first thing to note is that some colours are either absent or change in importance (percent) over time – there is a dramatic increase in pink and green over time and a decline in Dark Indigo, black and yellow while red remains relatively constant. Preference for certain different bead colours is changing while it seems the use of greater varieties of bead colours is not. ⁹³

And if you look more closely at the data, even though there are fewer bead colours in the Fort Vermilion II bead assemblage, the first three highest bead colour percentages make up 90% of all colours while they only make up 73% in the Fort Vermilion bead assemblage. In short, fewer bead colours occur in larger quantities in the Fort Vermilion II assemblage. And their high numbers relative to total bead assemblage (counting all the whites and blues) account for the proportional increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category. These differences are graphically depicted below in the cumulative percentage graph.

Cumulative percent glass bead colours between the two fort bead assemblages.

A comparison of two bead assemblages from different regions in Alberta produced similar results to those above. Below is a list of bead colours from the Athabasca region HBC Nottingham House (c.1801 – 1803) and the Saskatchewan District NWC Rocky Mountain House (c.1799 – 1821). Even though Rocky Mountain House had 26 different colour varieties, most of these were different shades of blue with only twelve actual different colours. It is also obvious that the ordinal rank of colours between the two assemblages differs. And the Rocky Mountain House coloured bead assemblage only represents 4.7% of the total while the Nottingham House assemblages make up 25% of the total. And like the temporal comparison between the two Fort Vermilion sites, it was not a greater increase in bead colour varieties at Nottingham House that created these differences. It was simply a higher proportional use of certain coloured beads that created that difference.

	*Nottingham House*		*Rocky Mountain House*
Bead Colour	Quantity	Percent	Quantity	Percent
Black	11	0.6	25	7.7
Redwood	391	20.9	25	7.7
Ruby	40	2.1	0	0
Rose Wine	273	14.6	232	71.4
Scarlet	0	0	17	5.2
Red Mahogany	0	0	4	1.2
Bright Green	3	0.2	6	1.8
Dark Pale Green	185	9.9	1	0.3
Apple Green	75	4	0	0
Aqua Green	1	0.05	0	0
Dark Grass Green	0	0	1	0.3
Turquoise	773	41.3	1	0.3
Light Gold	120	6.4	0	0
Mustard Gold	0	0	12	3.7
Sunlight Yellow	0	0	1	0.3
Total	1872		325
Total Bead Sample	3610		6512

In this comparison, unlike the Fort Vermilion I and II comparisons, both bead samples are sufficiently robust to eliminate possible bias from sample size.

In summary, historic glass bead colours differed proportionally over time and in large regions of western Canada and the United States. Certain bead colours were preferred over others in specific regions or during specific periods. Although there was likely a greater potential selection of bead colour varieties later in the 19th century, it did not necessarily result in the use of a greater variety over time or regionally. People preferred certain colour schemes during certain periods and regions. The reasons and meaning for the choice of those colours were likely as complex as they are today, being influenced by the personal, cultural and ideological customs and values of their people. And, let’s not forget the role of fashion driving the choices in colours that were made.

Canada’s Metis – The Flower Beadwork People

It is perhaps fitting to end this blog about historic glass bead colour with Canada’s historic Metis who were also known as the ‘Flower Beadwork People‘, renowned for their brightly coloured floral designs in both beadwork and embroidery. ⁹⁴ How does their use of bead colours compare to other assemblages?

A beautiful example of floral beadwork on a firebag in the Royal Alberta collections (part of the Earl of Sothestk collection). James Carnegie, the 9th Earl of Southesk, acquired the bag during his North American travels including stops in western Canada. The initials “WJC” in the beadwork suggest this octopus bag was made for Chief Factor of Fort Edmonton, William J. Christie by his wife, Mary Sinclair Christie – a Métis woman with Anishinaabe roots who in her teens spent time in Red River before moving to Fort Edmonton in 1858.

This is also a good example of the transmission of the eastern Indigenous floral beadwork design and other design elements from Eastern to Western Canada in the nineteenth century. For more details about this bag go to the attached footnote and the Royal Alberta Museum website. ⁹⁵

Unfortunately, there are very few archaeological bead assemblages that are definitely Metis. Below I have listed the archaeological sites that represent Metis settlements or farmsteads (river lots) and have beads samples available for examination. Keep in mind that this sample size is small and the results preliminary. However, the results indicate that the ‘other’ bead colour category in these assembles is very high. Higher even than most other Saskatchewan District bead assemblages. However, also like these assemblages the Metis were not necessarily using a greater variety of bead colours at any given time. Only a higher proportion of some colours.

The image below of a beaded cushion, dating around c.1880, and like the octopus firebag, supports my contention that relatively few varieties of bead colours were used, but some in very high proportions. White and blue beads were used in lesser numbers in this flower bead pattern.

A beaded cushion, Fort Vermilion I region, made by Metis Francoise LaFleur Moberly, wife of fur trader, Henry John Moberly. This cushion is thought to date between 1879-1885.
(Photograph courtesy of the Fort Vermilion Museum, Alberta, Canada)

Also at the beginning of this blog, I showed an image of a colourful piece of beadwork found at the HBC Fort Victoria (c. 1864 – 98). It was found in the men’s quarters and was likely fashioned by a Metis woman perhaps living at the fort. As with the cushion, the proportion of coloured beads relative to white and blue beads is quite high. Below is a schematic drawing of the colour pattern that was used based on this archaeological find.

Below is a photograph of a Metis sash I was given at Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada for my work with the Metis. It’s quite evident that there is considerable similarity in the colour scheme of both these objects. Not the same but similarity nevertheless. The sash, a major symbol of Metis identity in Canada varies in colour schemes but certain colours seem to reoccur.

This is the reconstructed bead pattern from the garment found at the HBC Fort Victoria (c.1864-98). The types and proportions of bead colours are relatively similar to the Metis sash below, with blue and red dominating the colour spectrum. This image was modified from information in the Fort Victoria report. ⁹⁶

This Metis sash from Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada contains five basic colours, ranked according to their frequencies. Red and blue dominate. According to an article in *New Journeys.ca* ⁹⁷ even today there is more than one meaning for these colours on the Metis sash among Metis: “According to the BC Métis Nation, red stands for the blood shed over many years of Métis people fighting for their rights, blue is for the depth of spirit among Métis people, green is for the fertility of their great nation, white stands for their connection to the earth and creator, yellow is for prosperity and black stands for the dark period of suppression and dispossession of Métis land.
Other organizations say the red and blue stand for the two Métis flags: the blue infinity flag signifying Scottish and French heritage and the red infinity flag some say was for hunting.”

A Few Concluding Remarks

The use of colour by humans and the reasons for choosing them are complex and often difficult to understand. When we step back into history the task of understanding colour becomes even more difficult because of either scant or biased evidence.

Despite these issues, I believe the historic archaeological bead data have been under-utilized when it comes to documenting and understanding historic Indigenous bead colour. Investigation of these assemblages has its advantages. Instead of guessing what the historic names for colours might mean, we can examine the actual bead. And, because the assemblages cover a considerable period of time and space, we can take a comparative approach to investigate them.

It is clear, both in contemporary and historic Indigenous societies, colour preference is a moving target. It is not a static entity but seems governed by ever-changing preferences over time and space.

To tag a certain colour with a certain meaning is therefore difficult if not impossible. Perhaps we have to reduce the entire mess down to the fact that some colours, because we associate them with specific things or events, make us feel good while others do not. And it seems there is a great deal of variability among humans in those choices. In other words, a colour I might prefer would not always be preferred by others, or in different periods, giving rise to an array of colours, used in different proportions by people.

Despite this seemingly incredible variability and sometimes randomness in colour preferences, there are trends in colour preferences both regionally and over time in Northwestern North America that are very difficult to explain if the choice is only individual and highly random. Like our car example, are Indigenous people thinking the same way about bead colour choices? Certainly, the floral pattern in embroidery and beadwork, thought to have spread northwest from eastern North America, influenced a greater use of colours other than white and blue by Indigenous people. Some evidence suggests that style dictated colour preference among Indigenous groups. And, if you wanted to communicate your affiliation with a particular group, then the use of certain colours as means of communicating that identity was an option.

To conclude glass trade beads were a very important article among Indigenous people in Canada. The colours of beads people chose have significance in their everyday lives. Not just historically but even today.

On August 10th, 2023 I attended an Edmonton Elks football game. The highlight of this event wasn’t the Elks’ superb play (they lost and now have lost twenty-two consecutive games at home). The highlight was the half-time show featuring Canadian Indigenous dancers, clad in their colourful dancing regalia covered with many glass beads.

The bead colours they chose, and the meaning behind them, are often very personal, steeped in their history and cultures. I leave the last word about the importance of Indigenous beads and colour to an Indigenous voice, Anishinaabe ⁹⁸ beader Malinda Joy Gray’s thoughts about the colours of beads chosen in dance regalia and the meaning behind them:

“Colors and patterns are not merely adornment, they should be intertwined with their identity and their status as a dancer with other members of the community. When an Anishinaabe artist beads regalia for themselves, they are instructed to use their spirit colors. I have been taught by Elders that if you don’t have any colors that have special meaning to you or are unsure what your spirit colors are, you must put tobacco in some water and sleep with it beside your bed. Doing so will ensure that during your dreams your ancestors will come and show you which colors should be worn. Regalia is not just for this dimension, it transcends time and waking reality. Beadwork has impacted every aspect of Indigenous culture including its spirituality.” ⁹⁹

From “The Pyschology of Colour in Advertising.” https://www.newdesigngroup.ca/logo-graphic-design/psychology-colour-advertising/[↩][↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]
from “Why Do We Prefer Certain Colors?” in Psychology and Neuroscience; https://psych-neuro.com/2015/03/13/why-do-we-prefer-certain-colors/[↩][↩]
Madden, T. J., Hewett, K., & Roth, M. S. (2000). Managing images in different cultures: A cross-national study of colour meanings and preferences. Journal of International Marketing, 8(4), 90-107.[↩]
This is only a theory of high correlation (i.e., most people), not an absolute theory (i.e., all people).[↩]
from “Science Explains Why We Have Favorite Colors” by Allison Turner, 2022.[↩]
Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
https://www.autoloansolutions.ca/blog/3-good-reasons-to-spend-more-time-choosing-your-cars colou/#:~:text=3%20Good%20Reasons%20to%20Spend%20More%20Time%20Choosing,tell%20them%20to%20vamoose%21%20…%205%20Apply%20Now%21[↩]
From “Color Symbolism & Meaning of Gray”. https://www.sensationalcolor.com/meaning-of-gray/[↩]
Quote from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
from Bead Types at Fort Vancouver. US National Parks Service. https://www.nps.gov/articles/fovabeads.htm[↩]
Data from Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
On the colour wheel, secondary colours are located between primary colours. According to the traditional colour wheel, red and yellow make orange, red and blue make purple, and blue and yellow make green. Tertiary colours refer to the combination of primary and secondary colours due to their compound nature. Blue-green, blue-violet, red-orange, red-violet, yellow-orange, and yellow-green are colour combinations you can make from colour mixing. While we are all familiar with what primary and secondary colours resemble, we are perhaps less familiar with tertiary colours. The six tertiary colours often come with names. For example, vermilion refers to orange combined with red; magenta, red combined with purple); violet, purple combined with blue; teal, blue combined with green; chartreuse, green combined with yellow; and, amber, yellow combined with orange. I cannot think of one primary or secondary colour, and many tertiary combinations as well, that has not been applied to glass trade bead colours in the Americas.[↩]
Kidd, Kenneth and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System for Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeologists. In BEADS: Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24[↩]
Devore, Steven Leroy. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
American Fur Company data from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Steven Leroy Devore. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Wayne Davis. 1974. Time and Space Considerations for Diagnostic Northern Plains Glass Trade Bead Types. In Historical Archaeology in Northwestern North America. University of Calgary, Canada.[↩]
https://www.nps.gov/articles/upload/Within-the-Collection-Beads.pdf[↩]
Courtesy of https://www.nps.gov/articles/upload/Within-the-Collection-Beads.pdf [↩]
Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Colouring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No. 1[↩]
a mineral consisting of a phosphate of iron which occurs as a secondary mineral in ore deposits. It is colourless when fresh but becomes blue or green with oxidization[↩]
from Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Coloring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No.1.[↩]
both white and black technically are considered colours and so treated here as such[↩]
And to my knowledge has not been answered. Certainly, like many European trade goods introduced into Indigenous society, they might have affected traditional values. If blue dyes were difficult to acquire, and therefore relegated to only a few people, such as shamans and nobility, the greater accessibility to objects by others to this colour may have had a profound effect on Northwest Coast cultural traditions.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.170-71. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.174-76. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Davis, Wayne. 1972. Glass Trade Beads of the Northern Plains – Upper Missouri Region. M.A. Thesis, Department of Archaeology, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Denig, Edwin. 1930. Indian Tribes of the Upper Missouri. Edited by J. N. B. Hewitt, Bureau of American Ethnology Annual Report (1928-1929), Vol. 46: 375-628. Washington, D. C.[↩]
Ross, Lester A. 1976. “Fort Vancouver: 1829-1860, An Historical Archaeological Investigations of the Goods Imported and manufactured by the Hudson’s Bay Company” United States Department of the Interior National Park Service and the Fort Vancouver Historic Site, USA.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩]
Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩][↩][↩]
Coues, Elliot (ed). 1965. New Light on the Early History of the Greater Northwest: The Manuscript Journals of Alexander Henry, Fur Trader of the Northwest Company, and of David Thompson, Official Geographer and Explorer of the Same Company. Ross and Haines, Minneapolis. pp.517.[↩]
Thwaites, Reuben, Gold (ed.). 1904-05. Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition 1804-05. Dodd, Mead and Company, New York.[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90, pp.51.[↩]
From Farrell Racette, p.313[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90.[↩]
From Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver. pp.44.[↩]
Farrell-Raccette, p. 217[↩]
Raccette Farrell, p.307[↩]
Raccette Farrell, p.[↩]
Raccette Farrell p.316[↩]
Raccette-Farrell, p.307[↩]
Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver. p.43[↩]
see the Nottingham House data shown earlier.[↩]
Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre. 2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
from Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre.
2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
However, at Rocky Mountain Fort, Scott Hamilton fine-screened all soil matrix to recover all small beads. His results suggest that the bead colour proportions from this fur trade post are within the range of variability of other post assemblages (where the soil was not fine-screened) and white beads do not occur in significantly greater numbers. ((Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta. Chapter 6[↩]
For example, the NWC/HBC Fort Chipewyan was occupied from 1802 to 1872 covering the two time periods in question. More discreet temporal divisions have not been established archaeologically at this fort. Therefore the bead assemblage from this fort is a mixture of bead preference for over seventy years – a length of time too long to investigate any meaningful trends.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1992. Trade Ornament Usage Among the Native Peoples of Canada: a Source Book. Ottawa, Ont.: National Historic Parks and Sites, Parks Service.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1981. The Old Fort Point Site: Fort Wedderburn II? Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History 26. Ottawa, Parks Canada.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1993 A “Parchment Skin” is All: The Archaeology of the Boyer River Site, Fort Vermilion, Alberta. In The Uncovered Past: Roots of Northern Alberta Societies, Patricia A. McCormack and R. Geoffrey Ironside (eds), pp. 33-44. Circumpolar Research Series Number 3. Canadian Circumpolar Institute, University of Alberta.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2000-131 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermillion I (IaQf-1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2) (1998-2000 Field Seasons), Final Report, Permit 2000-131. Manuscript on file, Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture, Edmonton, Alberta; Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2002-227 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermilion I (IaQf – 1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2). Final Report, Permit 2002-227. On File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton. Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Catalogue only, Royal Alberta Museum, Edmonton[↩]
Arnold, Ken. 1972. The History and Archaeology of Fort Fork (Draft). Manuscript on file, Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta[↩]
Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1992. Archaeological Mitigation of Site GePa-10, Lac la Biche, Alberta for M & J Cats Ltd. ASA Permit Number 92-006. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Forbis, R.G. 1958a. Archaeological Site Inventory Data, Borden No. EgPr-1, Peigan Post (Old Bow Fort). Site form on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Noble, William C. 1973. The Excavation and Historical Identification of Rocky Mountain House. Canadian Historic Sites. Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History No. 6. Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, Ottawa.[↩]
Steer, Donald N. and Harvey J. Rogers. 1978. Archaeological Investigations at an Early Nineteenth Century Fur Trading Fort, Rocky Mountain House National Historic Park, 1975-77. M.S. on file, Parks Canada, Calgary.[↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1987. Archaeological Excavations at the Probable Site of the First Fort Edmonton or Fort Augustus I, 1795 to Early 1800s. Human History, Occasional Paper No. 3. Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Nicks, Gertrude. 1969. The Archaeology of Two Hudson’s Bay Company Posts: Buckingham House (1792-1800) and Edmonton House III (1810-1813). M.A. thesis on file, Department of Anthropology, The University of Alberta, Edmonton[↩][↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1970. Fort George and the Early Fur Trade in Alberta. Publication No.2, Provincial Museum and Archives of Alberta. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.[↩]
McCullough, E.J., A.J. Landals, and B.J. Kulle. 1992. Historical Resources Mitigation FjOn 1 Fort Vermillion/Paint Creek House. Permit 91-73. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 2021. appendix F. The Trade Beads of Fort Riviere Tremblante. In Meyer, David. 2021. Archaeological Investigations of Fort Riviere Tremblante. Manuscript on File, Saskatchewan Heritage Center, Regina.[↩]
Walde, Dale. 2004. Historical Resource Monitoring of a Replacement Waterline within Lots 1, 4 & 5, Block 1 Fort Vermillion, Alberta Map Sheets 84 J/5 & K/8 Final Report. Permit 2004-209. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1991a. Archaeological Investigations, Dunvegan, Alberta: Hudson’s Bay Company 1877 Factor’s House (GlQp-8) and St. Charles Mission Roman Catholic Church (GlQp-6), Permit 89-20. Vols. 1-3. Report on file with the Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Forsman, Michael. 1985. The Archaeology of Victoria Post 1864-1897. Archaeological Survey of Alberta Manuscript Series No. 6. Alberta Culture, Edmonton; Losey, Timothy, et. al, 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. n.d. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Edmonton V, 1992-1995. Manuscript report on file, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Pickard, Rod and Heather D’Amour. 1987. Archaeological Investigations at the National Historic Site of Jasper House. Microfiche Report Series 475. Environment Canada Parks Service, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩][↩][↩]
Stevenson, Marc G.
1981. Peace Point – A Stratified Prehistoric Campsite Complex in Wood Buffalo National Park, Alberta. Research Bulletin No. 158. Parks Canada.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L.
1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩]
Doll, Maurice,F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩][↩][↩]
Doll, Maurice, F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Elliot, W. J. 1971. Hivernant Archaeology in the Cypress Hills. M.A. Thesis, University of Calgary.[↩][↩]
Panas, Timothy
1999. Statistical Comparison of Spode/Copeland Ceramics between Historic Metis and European Occupations in Central Alberta. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, The University of Montana.[↩]
Brandon, John Daniel. 1989. The Artifacts and Stratigraphy of the Letendre Complex, Batoche, Saskatchewan. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, University of Saskatchewan.[↩]
Klimko, Olga, Peggy Mkeand, Terrance Gibson. 1993. The Chesterfield House Research Project. Permit 93-047. Saskatchewan Heritage Branch, Regina.[↩]
Heitzmann, R.J., J. Preigert, S.S. Smith. 1980. Historical Resources Inventory and Assessment Programme 1979 Fort Chipewyan III and IV, Final Report. Permit Number 79-100. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1989. The Rosebud Burial. Manuscript on File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Klimko, Olga and John Hodges. 1993. Last Mountain House: A Hudson’s Bay Company Outpost in the Qu’Appelle Valley. Western Heritage Services Incorporated, Saskatoon.[↩]
Devore, Stephen
1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Trading Post Collection. Friends of Fort Union Trading Post, Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Duncan, Kate. 1989, Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. p.40. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
These limitations are the result of both a low number of archaeological site bead assemblages and often very low sample sizes.[↩]
Much has been published in the archaeological literature on how sample size affects artifact richness (or in this instance bead colour variety) (i.e., as sample size increases, so will the number s of different bead colours, until a saturation point is reached). I have touched on the subject in my 2015 Fort Vermilion I monograph, conducting rarefaction curves to examine artifact richness between different-sized archaeological samples.[↩]
Even when sites having small bead sample sizes are omitted (which could bias the number of bead colour varieties) the results are similar to those above.[↩]
I conducted a two-tailed T-Test for means (unequal variances). Because of the high degree of variability and overlap in the sample, there was no statistical difference in the mean colour varieties in the two samples.[↩]
for some reason WordPress is not allowing me to insert a number in the appropriate box for the total bead sample for Fort Vermilion II.[↩]
However, currently, without a larger bead sample from Fort Vermilion II, I can’t rule out that unequal bead sample sizes are biasing these results.[↩]
According to Canadian Geographic the Dakota and Cree called the Metis Flower Beadwork People. (https://indigenouspeoplesatlasofcanada.ca/article/material-culture/). There are also countless references by explorers describing Metis’ beadwork and embroidery skills[↩]
From the Royal Alberta Facebook page here is a brief history of this firebag design: “Where do octopus bags get their names? An octopus bag has eight hanging tabs or legs, much like the animal. The octopus bag is thought to be based on Algonquin animal skin bags, also known as “many legs bags,” which had the legs and tails left on and were quill-worked or beaded. The Métis adopted this bag style when many Anishinaabe moved west to Red River, where Métis women utilized their distinct floral beadwork style. The eight-legged style of bag became popular in the 19th century in Métis and Cree communities across central Canada. This style of bag – used to carry smoking pipes, tobacco, flint, and steel to make fire (hence “fire bag”) – was carried across the continent as far west as Tlingit communities in Alaska.” Courtesy of Royal Alberta Museum: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10154041317827815&set=this-weeks-ramwow-is-a-m%C3%A9tis-octopus-bag-from-1859-it-is-part-of-the-southesk-co[↩]
Losey, Timothy C., et al. 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975. Occasional Paper No. 3. Alberta Culture, Historic Resources.[↩]
https://newjourneys.ca/en/articles/the-story-of-the-metis-sash[↩]
The Ojibwe, Chippewa, Odawa, Potawatomi, Algonquin, Saulteaux, Nipissing and Mississauga First Nations are Anishinaabeg. Some Oji-Cree First Nations and Métis also include themselves within this cultural-linguistic grouping[↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]

Posted on January 31, 2023June 28, 2025
Making My Stone Maul (Part 4): Thirty Hours and Counting…

“Excuse me, which level of Hell is this?”

(A rather appropriate quote about work and effort)

(Well, I’m back. It’s time to update the progress on my maul. My fingers are still intact. But a lot stiffer, sorer, and callused. I have now spent thirty hours grinding my stone maul to make the groove. Here’s what it looked like before I started.)

The unmodified quartzite cobble I chose to make my grooved stone maul, May 2021. Quartzite is a common rock in Alberta, Canada. It is a metamorphosed sandstone that attains an incredible hardness. Seven, or over, on the Mohs hardness, scale. Equivalent to the hardness of a steel knife. Diamond has a Mohs hardness of ten. And, quartzite cobbles often come in round or oval shapes which are natural shapes for stone mauls. This cobble, before being modified, weighed 1,380 grams (1.38 kilos or 3 pounds).

A Brief Recap First

I started this project in May 2021. And I’m not half finished. I started it because I like experimental archaeology – an offshoot of archaeology involving replicating activities, or objects made in the past which are often poorly recorded and understood. As archaeologists, we gain better insight into the process and techniques required to make an object. Such as this stone maul, for example.

A granite stone maul found in Saskatchewan, Canada. A few terms to keep in mind before I continue with this blog. Each end, divided by the groove, is called a poll. The distal poll is the working end of the maul. If the maul is a three-quarter maul (where the bottom is not grooved) such as this one, then the portion not grooved becomes the bottom of the maul. The wood hafting bends around the groove and comes together at this point on the maul to form the handle. This maul was likely pecked with a hard hammer (both to shape it and make the groove); not ground, as the grooved surface is quite rough. You can peck granite, but not quartzite very well, if at all.

As I mentioned before in my previous blogs there are few historical or ethnographic accounts describing stone tool technology. Even fewer on making ground stone mauls. And still fewer yet, if any, of making them out of quartzite in western North America. I chose quartzite because: 1) it’s the hardest and most durable rock we have in Alberta, Canada; and, 2) most of our prehistoric stone mauls in Alberta are made from quartzite.

Now, why would people choose such a tough material to make their stone mauls? Why go through all that trouble if a simple stone cobble held in one’s hand would probably do the same job pounding meat, grains, or berries? ¹ These are only a few of the questions I asked myself as I was making this grooved stone maul.

So, I started by trying to peck the quartzite cobble with a smaller stone cobble (also quartzite). That didn’t work very well. In fact, it didn’t work at all. It was too difficult to aim the hammer-stone precisely enough and didn’t seem to remove any material. Next, I chipped off a small quartzite flake with a sharp edge from a cobble and started sawing away on the quartzite cobble I had chosen for a maul. Below is my progress after ten hours of grinding and sawing.

One thing became immediately clear. This project was going to take a long, long time. Quartzite, on the Mohs scale of hardness, is 7.0 – 7.4. Some of the hardest rocks in the world. And, after ten hours of work, I had absolutely no doubts about that fact. Nor did my hands and fingers.

One of the stone flakes I used for sawing/grinding my stone maul for the first ten hours. Often, my finger would grind on the cobble surface as well, creating some rawness and blistering. Or getting gouged by the flake. You can see here that during the initial cutting of the cobble cortex (oxidized surface of the rock), I used a very small quartzite flake with a very thin cutting edge. The actual grinding or cutting edge surface of the flake was also very small. So, at first, progress was very slow.

Below was my progress grinding a groove on the maul. I eventually saw a groove after six hours of grinding. You can read more about my progress in my first three blogs on this website.

My quartzite stone maul through various stages, documented in hours of grinding. After four hours I was ready to abandon ship. I could barely see an incision on the cobble. And I certainly gained a new respect for our ancestors who used stone tool technology. After ten hours of work, I saw some progress. Maybe there’s hope after all in completing this stone maul before my fingers fall off. After ten hours of work, the groove is about 3.5mm deep and a maximum of 4mm wide.

My Next Twenty Hours of Grinding My Maul

I have worked on the maul for thirty hours. Below are a few photographs of what the maul looks like. I can say now that I’m winning the battle.

The maul after twenty hours of work (far left): groove length = 110mm; groove depth = 3.5mm; maximum groove width = 9mm. The maul after thirty hours of work (center and right): groove length = 125mm; groove depth =~5mm; maximum groove width = 11mm. The groove didn’t get much deeper (from after ten hours) but much longer and slightly wider. The amount of work invested in making the maul is measured in two ways: 1) total volume of material removed from the cobble; and, 2) total weight of material removed from the cobble. The total volume of material removed after ten hours of work: 110mm x 3.5mm x 9mm = 3,465 cubic mm; After 30 hours work: 125mm x 5mm x 11mm = ~6,875 cubic mm (the width is not uniform over the entire length of the groove, so this figure is likely less than the estimate here). The weight of the maul cobble before starting = 1,380 grams. Weight after thirty hours of grinding = 1,361 grams. I have removed a total of 19 grams of material after thirty hours of work.

A ‘rough’ sketch of three different aspects shows the grinding pebble’s position relative to the maul groove. In the first view, you are looking straight down on the maul and flake, showing the flake oriented diagonally across the width of the groove. In the second view, you are looking down the length of the groove from the end with the flake positioned diagonally across the groove but also tilted towards the right wall of the groove. In the third view, you are looking at the grinding pebble from the side with its front pointing down at a shallow angle towards the bottom of the groove. Ideally, the grinding pebble is in all three positions simultaneously as strokes are taken.

Grinding Facts and Progress

In an earlier blog, I estimated that I ground the maul 67% of the time in one hour; the remainder of the time I rested and examined my work. I decided to determine how much grinding I did over one hour by timing five hours of grinding. I tabulated the results below:

Hour Minutes Grinding/Sawing % (of one hour)
1 44 73.3
2 50 83.3
3 52 86.7
4 54 90
5 47 78
Mean Time Grinding/Sawing 49.4 82.3
It turns out I ground the maul longer than I had originally estimated. On average, I ground close to 50 minutes out of every hour. This turns out to be about 82.3%. However, I count the resting and examining the maul as part of the work process. It’s almost impossible to grind continuously for one hour. Maybe if you’re young and strong. I’m neither.

I also calculated how many strokes per minute I took by counting five sample strokes over a one minute period. Here are the results:

Sample Strokes per Minute Number of Strokes
1 148
2 138
3 140
4 150
5 146
Mean Strokes per Minute 144.4
What constitutes a stroke? I counted a stroke here as the forward motion along parts of the groove as one stroke and the backward motion as the second stroke. The two strokes don’t have the same degree of effort. The backward stroke is not nearly as powerful and effective in grinding as the forward stroke which is the power stroke. How much less effective is very difficult to measure accurately. I have no idea how much force I’m exerting on the maul with either stroke (and it would be tough, but not impossible to measure). On average I took about 144 strokes per minute while grinding. If we calculate how many strokes it takes per hour, then multiply 144 x 49.4 = 7,113.6 strokes per hour. And, if we multiply that figure by thirty hours, I have taken 213,408 strokes so far. Ouch! No wonder I hurt sometimes.

The Grinding Process, or, How to Make a Very Narrow Maul Groove Wider

Initially, for the first ten hours of grinding, I used a very small, thin quartzite flake (weighing 14 grams) to establish a thin, deep, straight cut across the width of the cobble. Occasionally, I placed some wet sand in the groove to gain better grinding traction (which was also more effective in removing the skin from my fingers). But once the groove was about 4mm deep, it was time to begin to widen as well as deepen it. I thought there might be two possible ways of doing this: 1) angle the grinding flake to either side of the maul groove, so that the sides of the flake rub along the sides of the maul groove; and, 2) use a larger flake with a wider edge to widen the groove. It turns out I eventually ended up doing both.

Here’s how my grinding method progressed over the next twenty hours. I did not use any sand, because I worked in the house. After knocking off a few flakes from a small orthoquartzite pebble (weighing 108 grams as opposed to the smaller quartzite flake only weighing 14 grams) to form a cutting edge, I then retouched the cutting edge, using a hammer-stone, to blunt and widen it. I used this edge for many hours. It wore down and began to conform to the size and shape of the maul groove, fitting in nicely and touching the bottom of the groove and the sides. As the flake wore down, it got wider, and thereby also continued to widen the groove.

That was the first step to widening the groove. Next, I started experimenting with holding the grinding flake at certain angles. I got a lot more of the pebble grinding surface on the maul walls by doing this. During the last ten hours of grinding, I made the grinding process even more complicated, but also more effective. Not only did I angle my grinding flake to one side or the other (off the vertical plane), but I oriented the flake grinding edge diagonally across the groove channel and pointed it downwards. This resulted in a three-dimensional grinding action as shown in the photographs and illustration below. This technique abraded both the sides as well as the bottom of the groove. The front edge of the grinding flake was always fresh as you grind it down by angling it.

I think the groove is now deep and wide enough so that I can use even a bigger grinding pebble. The extra weight of the pebble and greater grinding surface should result not only in widening the groove to about 20mm (which is my ultimate goal) and 6mm – 7mm deep, but should also be more efficient because of the added weight of the grinding pebble/stone; thus requiring less effort and time.

A photograph of me grinding away with my pet pebble. The pebble is tilted to one side, its point slightly downward and aligned diagonally across the maul groove. I found that this is a very effective way of grinding the groove and scouring both sides and bottom at once. The grinding pebble’s edges seem to catch the quartzite surface better when positioned this way. Both the maul and the grinding pebble get worn down. The front edge of the grinding pebble is snapped off. So there is always a constantly new, rough front surface that grinds the groove.

A close-up shot of my grinding pebble positioned at the angles previously described to get maximum grinding traction and removal of material. In order to widen the groove, I will now search for a new, larger, heavier, grinding pebble with a rounded grinding edge. Ideally, it should be about 20mm – 22mm wide which is the intended maximum width of my groove.

My Pet Grinding Pebble and Other Flakes I Used

One of the major challenges of hand-grinding with a pebble or flake was finding one that fit my hand with no sharp pressure points. This is very important. Blisters can form quickly if the grinding stone doesn’t fit well. Initially, the small flakes I used hurt my hands and created blisters easily because they were relatively small. And, because of their size, it was very difficult to wrap something around them to soften the grip. When I graduated to the bigger quartzite grinding pebble shown in these photographs, I taped the portion that fits in my hand. This pebble was quite comfortable and didn’t blister or cramp my hand (well, at least not as fast) as I ground the stone maul. Not only must you look for an equally hard, or harder, material for a grinding stone, but one that is comfortable if you want to save your fingers and hands.

Below are various stages, captured with photographs, of my last grinding pebble which I used for twenty hours; and the changes it went through. I resharpened it a few times to broaden the grinding edge, so it would broaden the maul groove. The pebble is not a true quartzite, but rather an orthoquartzite (which is grainier and perhaps not as hard as quartzite).

My pet grinding pebble. Made of orthoquartzite, this pebble was coarse and tough enough to do some serious grinding on my quartzite maul. This photograph shows the various stages my grinding stone edge went through. The grinding edge became broader and smoother as I cut down into the maul groove. The sides of the grinding stone also got worn and polished because of the way I held it. The polished grinding edge still managed to wear away material in the groove.

Stone Maul Balance – Where Should the Groove Go?

I never really thought much about this until recently. But what about the balance of the maul when hafted? Where should the groove be positioned on the maul?: near the center, or more towards one end of the polls? There are pros and cons for each position. If the maul groove is too much off-center its awkward balance might create problems when lifting and swinging it; and difficulty using both ends. If the maul groove is centred, how effective is it in the lift and swing? One way to find an answer is to experiment with various types of hafting. However, if the groove is centred, and is sufficiently well balanced to lift and swing, then both polls can be used for pounding if the maul is relatively symmetrical.

There was another way to find out if the position of the groove on a maul was important: examine a sample of prehistoric stone mauls and measure where the groove was placed. In the maul samples below from Alberta and Saskatchewan, Canada, most of the grooves are off-center, either towards the proximal or distal poll. In the Saskatchewan sample, of the 15 examples shown, all 14 grooves are off-center, either on the proximal (n = 11) or distal (n = 4) poll. Rarely is the groove exactly centred, although a few specimens came close. And, in Gilbert Watson’s Saskatchewan sample (see below), when the groove is off-center towards the distal poll, the proximal poll is cone-shaped and thereby lighter than the distal poll. Thousands of years and thousands of maul users can’t be wrong. For whatever reason a hafted off-center maul was preferred. Presently, I can only speculate, without further experiments, why people chose this position for the groove. It likely has to do with balance (or imbalance with the weight more towards the striking end) since those mauls with grooves nearer the distal poll generally have smaller, lighter proximal polls.

If you look closely at my maul in the above photographs, the maul groove is slightly offset towards the proximal poll.

A sample of ground stone mauls from Alberta, Canada. Note that all of the grooves on the complete specimens are off-center, mostly toward the proximal end (n = 6) of the poll as opposed to the distal end (n = 4) (however, the numbers are close and the sample is small). When the groove is closer to the distal poll then the proximal poll is almost always more cone-shaped and therefore slightly smaller and lighter (as in the last two mauls). ²

These drawings of stone axes were published by Gilbert Watson in the Saskatchewan Archaeological Newsletter, 1966. Only one of the grooves in 15 samples is centred while the remainder are off-center, most often towards the proximal poll.

A Few Closing Thoughts

“The underlying principle behind optimizing theory is that past cultures always attempted to maximize returns while minimizing the expenditure of currency….As all humans operate under finite constraints, tool designs reflect the necessity to conserve time.” (John Darwent, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, Canada)

As I sat hour after hour grinding away on my quartzite maul, feeling the pain and stiffness in my fingers, I often wondered why people chose quartzite to make these mauls. The answer to that question may have something to do with the effort to procure raw materials, time expenditure, and the benefits of making it from such a hard material. Archaeologists have pondered the trade-off between time and effort of making an object and the benefits acquired.³ Archaeologist, John Darwent, and others suggested four possible scenarios of the cost-benefit of making an object: 1) high cost, low benefit; 2) low cost, low benefit; 3) high cost, high benefit; and, 4) low cost, high benefit. He suggests that in terms of efficiency (benefit divided by cost), the cases can be ranked, except for instances 2 and 3 which are equivalent, as follows: 4 > 3; 2 > 1.

Clearly, in terms of production time (exceedingly long) and benefit (a maul that is virtually indestructible), my quartzite maul is probably a “3”: High Cost, High Benefit. In Alberta, other materials for maul making (e.g., granite, amphibolite, basalt, sandstone, granite) exist but are less common requiring more time and effort to find them. Even though these rock types are not as hard, and therefore easier to grind, there would be less benefit, breaking more easily (as the granite maul below shows, missing part of the distal poll). Quartzite cobbles are very common in Alberta. Saskatchewan Sands and Gravels, eroding out in creek and river cuts contain naturally suitably shaped cobbles, thus not requiring any, or little shaping (and thereby reducing work and effort considerably). Once the maul is made, relatively little maintenance is required.

The arrow points to the granite maul where chunks of the distal poll broke off, probably through use. The maul was found in a cultivated field so breakage from farm equipment can’t be ruled out. However, the break surface looks sufficiently weathered suggesting it happened a long time ago.

However, is this rather economic-oriented view of maul manufacture too simplistic? Is the choice of this tough stone, and the many hours required to fashion a maul, intended for something else? Here also, archaeologists have speculated, stating that optimization theory fails to explain why so much time and effort (or ‘surplus’) goes beyond a purely ‘functional’ point when making a stone tool. As Darwent explains, “…the most optimal decision on an economic level may not be the best choice on a social level.” In other words, a simple stone maul, made from softer materials, may be just as functional as one made of quartzite, but less prestigious at a social level. The difficulty, however, becomes knowing where to draw the line between how much work and effort is ‘functional’, as opposed to what is considered ‘surplus’. And whether the ‘benefits’ outweigh the ‘cost’.

Before signing off, my other thought about western Canadian stone mauls, concerns the scarcity of evidence of their manufacture in the archaeological record. In other words, where do old stone mauls go when they die? Or do they ever die? It seems most of them are found on the surface of cultivated fields and end up in farmers’ collections. Prehistorically, they might have been highly valued and curated, because of the effort it took to make them, and were perhaps passed down from one generation to the next. As mentioned before, we rarely find them in buried archeological contexts. And, we don’t find broken bits and pieces of mauls, such as parts of the poll hammer end or groove, in the archaeological record. ⁴ To my knowledge, we don’t find polished pieces of stone flake used to grind and shape the groove. This lack of evidence makes this artifact a bit of an enigma. Many questions, regarding its manufacture and use still need to be answered.

My pet grinding pebble (far left) and a number of rejuvenation flakes were removed from it to widen the grinding edge (on the right). The arrows all point to the polished surfaces of the flakes and my grinding pebble that wear very smooth when grinding the groove. If this method was used prehistorically then we should find evidence of it in the archaeological record. The characteristics of grinding on pebbles or flakes are subtle and require careful examination of the archaeological materials recovered.

From this experiment, it’s more likely the quartzite mauls were made by grinding rather than pecking. Although, here I admit, after looking closely at the grooves (which seem more ‘grainy’ than my maul), in the Alberta maul sample, that that the grooves may have been pecked. Perhaps I was too hasty in dismissing this method. It’s something that I will test by pounding and pecking on a quartzite cobble for a greater length of time.

My colleagues and I want to acquire some independent evidence to either verify or refute whether quartzite mauls were ground and not pecked. If you look at a close-up photograph of the granite and my quartzite maul grooves, you will immediately note the difference in the degree of smoothness of the maul grooves. This difference in smoothness is partly due to the differences in grain size in both types of rocks, but perhaps also on how each groove was made; by grinding for quartzite and pecking for granite.

Comparison of the granite and quartzite maul grooves. The quartzite maul groove is much smoother although parts of the granite maul groove also show some polish. I wonder if it too was ground instead of pecked; perhaps both. The other issue we have to consider is how much of this polish occurred when the maul was hafted and then used with the hafted handle constantly rubbing in the groove. The two different types of polish may not be distinguishable with the naked eye but may appear different under higher magnification.

We plan to examine my quartzite maul groove under high magnification and note the type of wear marks left from grinding it with another quartzite rock. Then we will examine both the granite maul and other quartzite mauls in the Alberta museum collections, to see if similar marks are present on them. Hopefully, this little exercise will give us independent verification (or not) of whether prehistoric Indigenous peoples in western Canada used this method to fashion their stone mauls.

In closing, I estimate it will take another ten to fifteen hours of grinding to finish one-half of this maul (assuming that the use of a larger, heavier grinding stone speeds up the process). This figure, when added to my already thirty hours of grinding, puts us at the 40-45 hour mark for just one-half. Thus, it will probably take about 80 – 90 hours to make the entire groove and perhaps another ten hours to make the handle and haft it onto the maul. That brings us to around one hundred hours of work.

And I intend to finish at least one-half of the maul. So, there will likely be one more final blog on my progress. And hopefully, by then there will be results from looking at the maul grooves under high magnification for manufacturing wear marks.

However, I’m going to soak my hurting hands in some warm Cuban waters before I tackle the home stretch of this project.

Adiós

Footnotes:
See the article by Kristine Fedyniak and Karen L. Giering. 2017. More than meat: Residue analysis results of mauls in Alberta. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Occasional Paper 36, regarding what types of materials people pounded with these mauls.[↩]
Photographs of Alberta mauls are from: Kristine Fedyniak and Karen L. Giering. 2017. More than meat: Residue analysis results of mauls in Alberta. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Occasional Paper 36.[↩]
see John Darwent’s M.A. thesis. 1996. The Prehistoric Use of Nephrite on the British Columbia Plateau. Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada.[↩]
One of my colleagues suggested that broken stone mauls were used as boiling rocks, or in sweats, virtually disintegrating, leaving no evidence behind[↩]

Posted on April 25, 2022April 25, 2022
Historic Glass Beads in Canada: Searching for Trends and Meaning (Part Two)

Dedicated to the work and memory of archaeologist Wayne London Davis. One of the first among us to appreciate the beauty and value of glass trade beads.

In my first segment on beads I looked at their antiquity around the world. In this second segment, I’ll lay out some basic facts and trends about glass beads in the Canadian fur trade. If you’re interested in more details, whenever you see a super-scripted footnote number, just point your cursor at it and it will pop up on your screen. ¹

A rare find discovered in 1975 while I was excavating at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Victoria (c.1863 – 1898), Alberta, Canada. The beadwork might be the remains of a dog or saddle blanket. Or some other personal item. Based on its context, it was most likely made by an Indigenous woman living in the fort. Both the color and design of the beadwork are preserved in these remains. ²
But, this example is the exception to the rule. Rarely do we find intact beadwork in the historic archaeological record. Instead we usually find thousands of beads scattered in and around buildings, cellars, trash pits, or privies. Often we have no idea who dropped or discarded them. In short, we often have little to work with when reconstructing their individual histories. ³

From James Isham, York Fort, 20 July 1739
Right Honourable Sirs;
With submission, this we humbly beg leave to observe to your honours, according to your honours’ orders, 1738 (paragraph the 7th) the Indians dislike of particular goods, their refusal and the reason for the same….Beads large pearl, the Indians dislikes for the colour, both large and heavy, the shape not being for the use they put them to, which is to hang at their noses, ears, and to make belts etc., so being few or none traded and lying useless in the factory, according to your honours’ desire I send them home…”

Glass trade beads. Recovered from the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830), northern Alberta, Canada

Not Just Any Beads Will Do

In his letter, James Isham, in charge of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s York Factory, listed three things about glass trade beads, that, if not strictly adhered to created serious problems in trade:

Color; Size; and, Shape

If these qualities were not satisfactory to First Nations Peoples, they simply refused to trade.

In this segment I’ll examine more closely how glass beads were made, and who made them. And how seemingly trivial traits, such as bead size and shape, were important in the Indigenous world. In a third segment in this series, I’ll consider in more detail the importance of bead design and color.

As I thought about the thousands of glass beads we’ve found at the many fur trade archaeological sites in western Canada, I wondered: What can we learn not only about how glass trade beads were made, but also their role and importance for the Indigenous People who acquired them?

However the task is difficult and fraught with obstacles. Archaeologically, the Fort Victoria beadwork example is rare. Unique almost. Glass beads don’t come in nice arranged designs. Often we don’t know who sewed those designs, or who purchased and used glass beads. ⁴

Slightly less spectacular than the Fort Victoria beads, is this string of glass trade beads exposed while excavating one of the Fort Vermilion I dwellings in 2016. Again, a rather unique find showing not only the types of beads Indigenous women living at the forts used, but also the color combinations they strung them together.

So let me lead you through this minefield of glass bead research. But first, we’ll briefly review how glass beads were made. And who made them. ⁵

Glass Trade Beads in the Americas: Who Made Them?

“Early demands for metaphorical counterparts of rare sacred materials like marine shell and natural crystals transformed with time to large-scale requests for beads of particular sizes, shapes, and colors for ornamentation of bodies and clothing. In all cases, American Indian worldviews determined selection, acquisition, and use of glass beads.” ⁶

It’s one thing to claim that Indigenous worldviews dictated bead selection. It is altogether another to figure out what they were. Or, where in a glass bead’s traits (e.g., shape, design, size and color) and patterning those worldviews resided. Especially when we consider that Indigenous people didn’t even make them. What bead types and quantities did Indigenous Peoples in Canada select that aligned with their beliefs and identities?

Early European Bead Makers

The majority of glass beads that entered the Americas, between c.1500 – 1900, were made in the Italian glass works in Venice/Murano. By the 1200s, a guild of glass makers began to make some of the best glassware in the world, including glass beads. By the 1500s Venice monopolized the glass bead industry, producing large numbers of beads in a variety of shapes, colors and sizes. The various factories were highly competitive, constantly upgrading their techniques to improve their product.

A modern glass factory in Murano. According to one source ⁷ glass making in Murano was a serious business: “We visited the Signoretti factory (http://www.signoretti.it/) and were able to observe in one of their 10 studio areas where three guys (the master and two apprentices worked) were working to make an amber-colored chandelier. The apprenticeship period is 15 years and while there are no laws about it, glass makers are only men…In the past, the glass masters were required to live on the island of Murano and if they were caught having shared any secrets of the factory they worked in, their tongue and one hand would be cut off in punishment.”

“About 1764 twenty-two furnaces were employed in that industry, [Murano, Italy] with a production of about 44,000 lbs. [beads] per week, and one house at Liverpool about this period bought beads to the value of 30,000 ducats annually. It may be readily conceived that a vast variety of patterns were produced. A tarriff drawn up in 1800 contains an enumeration of 562 species, and a ‘grandissimo’ number of sub-species of beads. The manufacture continues to be one of great importance.” ⁸

Venetian glass trade bead sample cards, 1898. The different types and varieties of glass trade beads was staggering. Many of the types and varieties seen in these sample cards appear in North America, including our Canadian fur trade and Indigenous archaeological sites. As you continue to read you will recognize some of these bead types recovered from the archaeological record. ⁹

Venice/Murano ruled the glass bead industry. However, according to Canadian bead expert, Karlis Karklins:

“Although Venice/Murano and Bohemia produced the bulk of the glass beads that were exported to the New World, Holland, Germany, France, England, Spain, Russia, China, and likely some other nations also contributed their share (Kidd 1979; Liu 1975a). Unfortunately, there is no routine method for determining the country of origin for any given bead type.” ¹⁰

So, we’ve hit our first snag when researching historic glass beads: determining their origins of manufacture. According to Karklins, even with mass spectometry (to ascertain the chemical composition of beads), it’s still exceedingly difficult to pinpoint a bead’s origins. What is often lacking are comparative bead samples from the European sources where they were made.

Fortunately, by using documentary records and bead collections, Venice’s dominance of the the bead industry has been generally validated. But occasionally the often vague North American documentary records leave some doubt as to origins and manufacturer. And, whether only Europeans made glass trade beads.

Glass Bead Manufacturing Techniques

European glass bead making techniques were complex. They evolved and changed over time. In order of their introduction, the four most common methods (which had derivatives or are used together) are: ¹¹

Wound Glass Beads – Although still used today, Venetians made glass beads individually by winding a molten blob of glass around an iron rod or mandrel by the end of 1200 A.D. They made beads of one (monochrome) or more colors (polychrome) by adding cobalt (blue), copper (green), tin (milky white), or gold (red) to the mixture. Or the bead could be decorated with a design pressed onto it or inlaid in the soft glass. As the demand for glass beads increased during the late 1400s this method could not keep up because it was too slow; each bead was hand-made.

Examples of mandrel or wound round monochrome glass beads (center and right) from the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Edmonton (c.1830 – 1915), Alberta, Canada. Wound beads generally have visible circular swirl lines aligned around the center hole. Air bubbles trapped in the glass are round. The white bead on the left (lacking the visible swirl marks), with embossed floral decoration on it, may have been made by glass forced into a mold with the floral design on it.

Using the Canadian glass bead classification chart produced by Kenneth E. Kidd and Martha Ann Kidd (and later updated by Karlis Karklins), these are the basic wound glass bead types found in Canada. The type list is incomplete. Other bead types will be added as more archaeological sites are excavated. The bead types are organized according to: 1) method of manufacture; 2) type of decoration; 3) shape; 4) color; and, 5) size.

Master list of wound glass trade bead types in Canada. The list was developed by Kenneth and Martha Kidd in the 1970s. It has been modified by Karlis Karklins and continually added to as we find more glass bead types at our Canadian archaeological sites. In this diagram the ‘W’ stands for ‘Wound glass beads’; ‘I’ for Type ; and, ‘a, b, c’ for variety (e.g., tubular, round, oval). Courtesy of Kenneth and Martha Kidd. ¹²

2. Blown Glass Beads – Also a very early method (but used into the 19th century), a glob of molten glass was shaped by blowing it through a glass tube. There was also a mold blowing method. First, you blow a small bubble at the end of a glass tube which was quickly inserted into a two-piece mold. Additional air was then blown in so that the glass bubble filled the cavity. A more complicated process involved placing a glass tube in a two-piece mold with up to 24 connected cavities. This method could produce beads with very complex designs. You could then produce a row of beads or break apart the segments to form individual beads.

This beautiful glass bead was made by blowing molten glass into a mold. This technique was time-consuming but capable of producing some extraordinary ornate beads. Typically these types of beads make up a very small percentage in fur trade assemblages. ¹³

Basic blown glass bead types found at Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. ¹⁴

3. Drawn Glass Beads – By the end of c.1400 A.D. the Venetians made glass beads from long tubes of drawn glass (initially thought to be an Egyptian method). A master glass maker first formed a cylinder from a glob of molten glass. Then his assistant took the end of the rod and pulled it down a long corridor before the glass cooled, producing a long drawn glass tube. The length of the tube and the amount of glass determined the size of the beads. Once the tubes cooled, they were cut into three foot lengths. Later, smaller lengths were cut into beads and then smoothed and polished. This method, still used today, met the demand for large quantities of beads because it was much faster.

Drawn glass beads with diagram of drawn method. White, opaque, monochrome glass bead (left, photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection). Polychrome glass bead on the right found by the author at an unidentified archaeological site just south of Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) northern Alberta, Canada. Diagram on the right showing how molten glass was drawn to form a long tube (from Kidd and Kidd). ¹⁵

Master list of drawn glass bead types found at Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Kenneth and Martha Kidd. The one above found by the author is of the Ib type. ¹²

4. Pressed/Molded Glass Beads – To make a molded glass bead the end of a glass rod was heated until it melted. A piece was then pinched off the rod and pressed in a tong-like two-piece mold. As the glass was compressed, any excess was forced out at the seam. A moveable pin (or pins, depending on how many holes were desired) pierced the glass and formed the perforation. In a second method, two pieces of viscid glass, one in either half of a two-piece mold, were pressed together to fuse them. Glass beads with complex colored patterns were made by this method. Some faceted mold pressed beads have mold seams that zig zag around the middle, following the edges of the central facets.

Example of mold pressed glass beads from Fort Vancouver, Washington on the left (Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection). Mold pressed glass beads from the HBC Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915) site on the right. In this method when making the hole, the outside diameter of the perforation becomes larger than the inside.

Master list of pressed, molded glass bead types from Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. ¹⁴

In Bohemia the glass bead industry had started by the 16th century. But during the Industrial Revolution in the 19th century machines were developed to mass-produce glass beads. These mold-pressed beads often had complex shapes. And by making use of patterned canes, or the glass rods fed into the machine, the resulting beads could be elaborately coloured, giving them a slightly random appearance, even if the shape was identical. Although mass-produced, and sold around the world, Bohemian glass bead making was a cottage industry that soon began to rival Murano’s bead industry.

Example of a Czech mold pressed beads. Molded beads, often similar in appearance, were made by different methods. Careful study, or consultation with an expert (of which there are few) is often required to tell them apart. Even then it is difficult. ¹⁶

Czech glass beads manufacturers were very aggressive businessmen. They sent out sample men who traveled worldwide (Africa, Japan and Tibet, and possibly the Americas) to speak with Czech glass bead wholesale suppliers to determine what beads styles would sell best in each market. They then returned to Czechoslovakia and advised on specific bead designs for sale to these markets. This proactive approach was highly successful, increasing the sales and demand for Czech glass beads worldwide.

North American Indigenous Glass Bead Making

When we think of the origins of North American glass beads, Italy, Bohemia, and Holland immediately come to mind. Wayne Davis, however, thought otherwise. His research suggested that Indigenous People occasionally also made glass beads. ¹⁷ Although probably a rare occurrence (and, to my knowledge, never documented in Canada), the Arikara, Mandan, Hidatsa, Cheyenne, and Snake First Nations in the USA made glass beads. How they did this is both fascinating and somewhat mysterious.

I’ll paraphrase one such historic Indigenous bead making process. For the complete quote, refer to this footnote: ¹⁸

Glass bottles, or glass beads were pounded fine and the powder thoroughly washed;
A platter was placed at the mouth of a three gallon ‘earthen pot’ (with a hole at edge to watch the beads);
A number of little rolled clay sticks the size of the bead hole were made and fired;
Small balls of clay were made for pedestals for the beads;
The pounded glass was heated and formed into an oblong shape and wound around the clay stick;
A hole was made in the center of each pedestal and the rolled glass bead and stick inserted into it.

“Then the platter is put in the coals and the pot is inverted over it; dry wood is placed about the whole and burnt….When the beads are whitish red and grow pointed, they are taken off. The clay center is picked out with an awl.”

The pot (presumably made from clay) probably served as a simple kiln increasing temperatures high enough to melt glass. Because even a large campfire can’t reach those temperatures. ¹⁹

Ethnologist, George Grinnell recounted another story of Cheyenne glass bead making. His description also suggests that they made glass beads and charms by melting sand. ²⁰

Also, according to ethnographer/painter George Catlin, in 1847, the Mandan highly valued these Indigenous-made glass beads:

“…the extraordinary art of manufacturing a very beautiful and lasting kind of blue glass beads, which they wear on their necks in great quantities and decidedly value above all others that are brought among them by the fur traders.” ²¹

These few examples of Indigenous bead making bring up more questions than answers. How widely spread was this practice? Did some Indigenous groups truly understand how to make glass from ‘quartz sand’ as Grinnell’s observations suggests? It takes high temperatures (higher than campfires) to melt quartz without adding a flux. Currently, without doing more research, we shouldn’t discount this possibility.

If so, where’s the proof? What makes Wayne Davis’s work so important, were his searches of the American bead collections for that proof. And he may have found it. What could be Indigenous-made glass beads are present in the Fort Leavenworth collections (and others as well). Those beads have slightly different characteristics than the European-made beads.

These two rows of glass beads were found at the Leavenworth historic Arikara archaeological site (c1803 – 1832). The beads are more irregularly shaped and the colors are not as well defined and not as bright as European glass beads. The glass has a grainy texture.

These glass trade beads are from the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Vancouver (c.1829 – 1860), Washington State, USA. The glass, like the Leavenworth Indigenous glass beads, is coarser; almost as though it were only partially melted. The coloration, which also is not as well defined as most European beads, is similar to the Leavenworth Indigenous made glass beads. Were they made locally by Indigenous People? Or, are they truly European-manufactured? I read Lester Ross’s original site report and could find nothing suggesting he believed these beads to be somewhat different from European glass beads. ²²

Why would Indigenous People even make glass beads? By the early 19th century, glass beads, in a bewildering assortment of shapes and colors, were already available across North America. Was it important to add that personal touch to glass beads? If these Indigenous-made beads were passed down through generations, they certainly would have maintained a stronger connection to one’s past, one’s people, than a European glass trade bead.

Historic Glass Beads in Western Canada

With the exception of porcupine quill adornment, painting (and historically silk thread embroidery, and tufting), the glass bead’s diversity (found in its shape, size and color) allowing considerable artistic license, was almost unequaled by any other North American prehistoric traditional artistic medium.

By the end of the 17th century, when glass beads first began to appear in the interior of western Canada, there was already a considerable array of colors, sizes and types to choose from. Drawn, wound and blown (in that order based on quantities) glass beads were either traded or gifted to the interior Indigenous groups.

Amount of glass trade beads traded to western Canadian inland First Nations People between the early and late 1700s. Considering the minuscule weight of each bead, these figures would have numbered in the millions. And they only reflect those beads traded and not those also gifted before formal trade even began. The reduction of glass beads traded from York Factory by the 1750s and 1770s marks the inland incursions of the French, and then independent traders from Montreal cutting into the HBC’s domination of the inland Western Canadian trade. ²³

Once fur trade posts were established further in the interior of western Canada, the Companies kept stores of glass trade beads for both trade and gifts. At Peter Fidler’s Nottingham House (c.1802 – 1806) on Lake Athabasca, pre-trading ceremonies dictated gifts be bestowed on potential Indigenous trading parties. Especially during the highly competitive period between the Hudson’s Bay Company and Canadians (North West and XY Companies). The above figures were taken from the post’s trading inventory lists. These records give us a brief glimpse into the importance and purchase of glass beads in the interior of Western Canada. But they rarely tell us what bead types First Nations preferred. ²⁴

Encountering Problems When Researching Glass Trade Beads

In the following sections I focus primarily on glass trade beads present either in the documentary or archaeological records. Each type of record has limits as to what we can accomplish in the reconstruction of Indigenous glass bead histories. Those limitations are: 1) context; 2) clarity; and, 3) completeness.

Context

Context refers to the nature of the document or archaeological record that beads are found in. For example, sometimes glass beads are listed in fort inventories and personal debt lists. Those records document what company employees bought at the inland forts (potentially providing valuable information on Indigenous local and individual glass bead preferences and consumption in time and space). But often records are missing, descriptions vague or inconsistent. Context of beads in the archaeological record is equally problematic. Often we only know the date and place the beads were purchased and used; and less about the individuals who purchased them. ²⁵

Clarity

Clarity refers to the accuracy of identification of historic fur trade glass beads. Often in the documentary record it is difficult to match descriptions with actual glass beads types (because of inconsistent, vague descriptions as the above record shows). When we find glass beads in the archaeological record, the method of their manufacture is discernible. However, specific date of manufacture and length of use of certain bead types is not. It requires vast amounts of archaeological information from a long time period and geographical area reconstruct these dates of use.

Completeness

Often the available fur trade documentary and archaeological evidence is incomplete. Many of the fur trade Company bead records were lost. Of the hundreds of fur trade sites constructed few have been investigated archaeologically. Of those investigated, most sites are only sampled; and, some of those samples are poor.

And finally, there are issues with the recovery of glass trade beads archaeologically. Beads are amongst the smallest artifacts found, often being less than 2mm in size. They fall through our screens or are almost invisible when we excavate.

**Example of Archaeological Context, Clarity and Completeness**: An 1875 rendition of the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Dunvegan, Peace River, northern Alberta, Canada. This fort was occupied from 1805 – 1878. First by the North West Company (1805 – 1821). And later by the Hudson’s Bay Company. Even though the various dwellings of company employees are well-defined, glass beads found in this context are problematic: 1) the fort was occupied by two different fur trade companies; 2) over time each dwelling would have been occupied by more than one family, perhaps of different ethnic backgrounds; and, 3) we have a poor sample from this fort added to the fact that it was also plowed, mixing up the archaeological materials. The bead assemblages recovered from this fort, presently only allow us to talk about glass trade beads in broad terms. We know their date and geographic area of use. And, that Indigenous women likely purchased them. But, very little else. ²⁷

**Example of Completeness**: These images of pressed faceted glass trade beads recovered from Fort Vancouver, Washington, USA (as well as small beads from other forts) indicate that while most beads are small, some, such as the seed bead on the right, are almost microscopic in size. Recovery of these beads is problematic and is uneven in archaeological excavations. Uneven recovery leads to biased samples making the results of quantitative comparisons difficult.

A Few Trends in Western Canadian Glass Bead Assemblages

Enough bad news. Now that we recognize the limitations of the historic bead evidence, what sort of information can we garner about historic glass beads, and the people who purchased them, in these records?

Over the years we have recovered a considerable variety of glass trade beads from excavated fur trade forts in Canada. In the west we now have enough information to assemble a basic list of the glass bead types and varieties recovered from these forts. We can also begin to establish date ranges for their use, by applying archaeological seriation. ²⁸

Hypothetical examples of contextual (upper) and frequency (lower) seriation. In the former method, only the date ranges of a particular artifact style are noted. In the latter method both the date ranges and frequency of occurrence within that range are noted. Many artifacts, including our automobile styles, or your eyeglass frame styles, have a range of use and also follow a curve of popularity. Once on the market a certain artifact type or style continually gains in popularity, reaching a peak, and then declines as other new styles are introduced.

Major Types of Glass Beads

In Table 1 (below) I have listed the major glass bead types (and when available, bead varieties) found at a number of western Canadian fur trade sites. ²⁹ From this list, I have summarized the major bead types and what they looked like, using the Kidd and Kidd bead classification scheme (see the visual images below).

Table 1. Major Glass Trade Bead Types.

Fort	Occupation Date	Company	Bead Types (Kidd and Kidd Classification System)
George	1792 -1800	NWC	Ia, IIa, IIb, IIg, Iva, WIb, WIc, WI, WIIIb, WIIId, WIII(oval/leaf, floral)
George, Plantation	1800 – ??	??	Ia, IIa, Wic, WIIIc* (oval/inlay lines)
Rocky Mountain House	1799 – 1834	HBC	Ia, IIa, WIb, WIc, WIIe
Rocky Mountain House	1799 – 1821	NWC	Ia4, Ia5, Ia15, Ia19, Ia, IIa12, IIa14, IIa56, IIa59, IIa, Iif, IIIa3, IIIa, IVa6, WIb, WIc1, WIc3, WIc, WIIIb(oval/leaf, floral)*
Edmonton/Augustus I	1795 – 1800	NWC/HBC	Ia, Ivb
Rivière Tremblante (Saskatchewan)	1791 – 1798	NWC	Ia2, Ia4, Ia7, Ia16, Ia19, Ia(a), Ia(b), Ia(c), Ia(d), Ib(a). Row 3: IIa7, IIa12, IIa14, IIa17, IIa47, IIa56, IIa59, IIa(a), IIa(b), IIa(c), IIa(d), IIa(e), IIa(f), IIa(g), IIb(a), IIf(a). Row 4: IIIa1, IIIa3, IIIa4, IVa6, WIb1, WIc3, WIc(f), WIIIb(b), WIIIb(c), WIIIb(f), WIIIb*(g), WIII(oval/leaf, floral)
Victoria	1864 – 1898	HBC	Ic13, If3, If, Ia18, Ia20, Ic(facetted), If9facetted), IIa7, IIa8, IIa13, IIa41, IVa6, Iva9, Iva18, WIb2, WIb7, WIb11, WIb16, Wic8, WIIc(facetted), WIIIb, IIa2, IIa3, IIa12, IIa16, IIa23, IIa27, IIa28, IIa36, IIa37, IIa40, IIa41, IIa47, IIb68, IVa6, IVa7, IVa9, WIb8, WIb11, WIIIa1
Edmonton/Augustus III	1810 – 1813	NWC/HBC	Ia, IIa, Ib, WIb, IV?
Edmonton/Augustus II/IV	1813 – 1830	NWC/HBC
Edmonton V	1830 – 1915	HBC	Ia4, Ic4, Ic10, IIa4, IIa6, IIa13, IIa17, IIa31, IIa56, IIb18, IIf1, IIf2, IIIf, WIc1, WIc12
Buckingham House	1792 – 1800	HBC	Ia, Ib, IIa, IIIm?, IIIk?, WIII(oval/leaf, floral), WIIIa
Last Mountain House (Saskatchewan)	1869 – 1872	HBC	Ic, IIa, Iva, WIb, WIc, MPIIa
Lac La Biche	1799??	??	IIa, IIIa, WIc

Nottingham House	1802 – 1806	HBC	Ia4, Ia19, Ia(not in Kidd), IIa2, IIa12, IIa14, IIa47, IIa56, IIa, IIb, IIf, Iva6, IIIa3, WIb, WIb, WIc1, WIc*, WIIe
Wedderburn	1815 – 1817	HBC	IIa12, IIa14, IIa59; IIa
Chipewyan	1803 – c.1900	NWC/HBC	Ic13, IIa2, IIa11, IIa13, IIa14, IIa28, IIa34, IIa37, IIa40, IIa41, IIa43, IIa56, IIa58, IIf2, IVa3, WIb10, WIc1, WId2, WId3, WIc16, WIc11, WIIba, WIb15, WIb7, WIb2
Vermilion II	1830 – c.1930	HBC	1a, IIa, Iva
Boyer’s Fort (1988 investigations only)	1788- 1792	NWC	Ia, IIa
Vermilion I	1798 – 1830	NWC/HBC	Ia, IIa, WIc, Ib10, IIb, If, WIb, WIc, WIIIb, WIII(oval/leaf, floral)
Dunvegan I	1805 – 1878	NWC/HBC	If5, IIa6, IIa13, IIa18, WIc1, WIc11
Dunvegan II	1878 – ??	HBC	IIa2, IIa37, IIa39, WIb11, WIb12
Rocky Mountain Fort (British Columbia)	1794 – 1805	NWC	Ia, IIa, WIb, WIc, WIIc, WIIIb, WIII (oval, floral)
Wegg’s House (Manitoba)	1795 – 1796	HBC	Ia, Ib, WIb, WIc, WIc1
Fort Union (North Dakota, USA)	1829 – 1865	American Fur Trade Company	Ia, IIa, Ic, IIIc, IVa, IIbb, IIh, Ibb, IVb, WId, WIb, WIe, WIc, WIIIa, WIIIb, WIIId, WIIIh, MPIIa, WMIa, WMIIb, WMIIc, BIf, BIg, Bia, WIII(oval/leaf, floral)

NWC – North West Company; HBC – Hudson’s Bay Company; ?? – Unknown; * – new bead types.

(This table is a work in progress. There are still some historic sites missing. Reports on others have yet to be written. Not all beads were identified to specific variety; this will require more detailed re-examination of the original assemblages).

Thus far we have identified 36 major glass bead types from these western Canadian fur trade posts (and one American post), dated between c.1788 – 1935. They represent the four major bead manufacturing methods (wound, drawn, mold/pressed, and blown). ³⁰ The most popular beads, in terms of quantity, are drawn glass beads which make up more than 95% in most fur trade glass bead assemblages. And the majority of drawn beads are very small (<3mm in diameter). These small beads become increasingly popular through time.

Examples of wound glass trade bead *types* found in the western Canadian fur trade post archaeological assemblages. A *type* refers to the label on the left side of each row of beads (e.g., WIIIa, WIc). The additional numbers below each bead (e.g., WIIe1, WIIIc1) refer to varieties based on different shapes, sizes or colors. Not all the varieties shown here have been found at the fur trade forts. But at least one or more variety in each of the major types has been found. Also, each of the fort assemblages are samples, and, with few exceptions, do not represent the total number of glass beads types potentially present at these sites. Therefore, both the glass bead types and varieties could change with additional sampling, or excavation of fur trade sites not yet excavated. ³¹

Examples of major types of drawn or tubular glass beads found at western Canadian fur trade posts. This is the most common bead type present in fur trade assemblages. And the most common drawn beads are the tiny ‘seed beads’, usually of the IIa variety above and less than 2mm in diameter. These beads, also referred to as embroidery beads, gained popularity throughout the fur trade as beads were used increasingly more for creating large patterns on garments, instead of just necklaces, earrings, or strung on leather fringe. Among Great Plains Indigenous groups, for example, *“…it is probable that very few embroidering beads were used by the Blackfeet before the American Fur Company opened its trade with them in 1831.”* One of the benefits of having archaeological samples of these bead types from forts spanning a long time period, allows us to document when various Indigenous groups first adopted them, and when they reached their popularity in various regions in North America ³²

Dating Glass Beads

We cannot determine, from the archaeological record, when beads were first manufactured, or ceased to be manufactured. But, we can at least get some idea of their dates of use. And, in a few cases, where our samples are robust, document their relative popularity through time. Then, with this knowledge, we can date archaeological sites or bead assemblages with unknown dates.

Some glass beads are more time-specific than others. For example, if we only look at their presence/absence (contextual seriation) the drawn, round (type ‘IIa’) beads occur at nearly every fur trade site resulting in a time range of use between 1788 – c.1872 (and likely much longer). Others such as the wound, oval, monochrome (type WIc) bead varieties have a slightly narrower range of use, based on their presence or absence at fur trade archaeological sites (c.1791 – 1869).

This figure shows fur trade sites which contained wound, oval, monochrome WIc glass bead types. The date range of occupation for each fur trade site having this bead type is plotted. Based on this evidence, the earliest known use of this bead type is based on the earliest dated site it was found at. The latest known date of use is based on the beginning of the latest dated site the bead type occurred at. Using only a presence/absence measure (or contextual seriation) it would be difficult to date sites of unknown age accurately with only this bead type (because the time range is so wide). Note also that this wound bead type is one of the earliest present at western Canadian fur trade sites. It occurs at the major fur trade company sites, including the American Fur Trade Company in the USA.

Examination of the range of use of the more elaborate wound IIIb(2) (leaf/floral oval beads) variety indicates they were only used between 1791 – 1829:

Date range of wound, oval glass beads with leaf/floral design (WIIIb(2) is between 1791 -1829, based on their presence at six western Canadian and one American fur trade post. Also, these beads, are mostly associated with the North West Company (NWC). According to some bead experts ³³ this might be the elusive ‘*China flowered*‘ bead listed in the 1825 Peace River men’s debt lists. The beads are white, resembling porcelain or china, thereby getting their name. And this bead type (which comes in numerous designs and colors) is the one of the few beads with a floral design on it. Although glass beads were imported from China, this specimen was likely made in Venice (see the Venetian sample bead cards). Unfortunately, many of the names of glass beads in the fur trade records cannot be accurately matched with those found in the archaeological record because of either poor or inconsistent documentation.

Popular Glass Beads – A Matter of Fashion?

From Joseph Isbister, Albany Fort, 24 August 1740:
“The beads that were indented for were a different sort from those remaining which go off at another time, the Indians being very much given to change their fancies.”

Joseph Isbister’s remarks brings up a word, about Indigenous People changing styles of beads, which we all are familiar:

FASHION!

Archaeological contextual seriation suggests that some glass bead types span a certain range of time. And then disappear being replaced by other bead types or styles. Why did this happen?

Ethnologist, Judy Thompson, suggests that Indigenous art (including beading) acts like fashion. Artistic trends and styles, “…came into vogue and were replaced with new ideas and techniques. Thompson challenged the old ideas of culturally pristine, static, unchanging tribal styles, subsequently polluted by outside influence. She identified a vigorous aesthetic climate….a Kroeberian analysis of artistic climax and decline.” ³⁴

Glass trade beads and dentalium from NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830). Even at a fur trade site occupied only a little over thirty years, we see a variety of bead types, which were used in combination or replaced earlier styles. Dentalium was highly prized by Indigenous Peoples, even with the introduction of glass beads. But tastes changed as different kinds of beads were introduced for trade.

Is this what our glass trade beads are doing? Are they simply objects of fashion for Indigenous People purchasing them? Are they going through cycles of ‘climax and decline‘, much like many of our styles today? To further determine whether fur trade glass beads are reacting this way, we need to examine some of them in more detail using frequency seriation where possible. ³⁵

To determine the popularity of a specific glass bead type or variety, we need to look at that bead’s proportional frequency through time (and space, if possible). To clarify what I mean, I will use only a few glass bead examples here.

With the available fur trade assemblages, I have calculated the relative percentages for wound, oval, monochrome (WIc), wound, oval floral/leaf (WIIIb), and wound, round, ‘Kitty Fisher’s Eyes’ (WIIIb, also known as ‘skunk beads’) bead types. These relative percentages are then plotted to time period:

This figure shows the relative percent of three major wound bead types (WIc, WIIIb KFE, and WIIIb (leaf/foral) plotted to time period using the western fur trade fort bead assemblages. Relative percent was computed by dividing the total number of each bead type by the total number of wound (WI) beads in each fort assemblage spanning a time period of c. 1750 – 1881. ³⁶ The graph shows an increase and then decline in the relative percent of each of these bead types. Unfortunately the sample of fur trade sites is small, so the results are currently only a crude approximation. What these results show however, is that each glass bead type might be following a curve (of gradual increase, peeking in popularity at the turn of the 19th century and then declining over time). There are a few things noteworthy about this graph: 1) The differences in the relative percent of each bead type (once we have more archaeological bead assemblages to work with) through time make it possible to date assemblages of unknown dates; and, 2) if the this type of curve (which comes in many shapes) holds up with a larger sample, then these bead types follow a typical ‘fashion’ curve: after its initial manufacture each bead style gains in popularity, finally reaching a peak in popularity and then gradually declines in popularity until no longer used. I call this a fashion frequency curve which describes quantitatively how fashions/trends (whether in clothing, automobiles, or eyeglasses) act. Fashion frequency curves come in many shapes depending on how frequently the object is consumed (e.g., rapid acceptance and decline, resulting in a very steep curve; to gradual acceptance reaching a peak and then a gradual decline resulting in a more gradual curve; and everything in between these two curves).

So, it seems that different bead styles, are not so much an indicator of static cultural traditions and identity, as they are about individual affiliation or differentiation. And a constant need to acquire new bead types as they become available. But each of these bead types could also be expressing group identity if we examine their use among specific Indigenous groups. ³⁷ Also, it is currently unknown how much of this change in glass bead styles was the product of choice among Indigenous People, as opposed to the manufacturer dictating styles, constantly coming up with new ones to promote trade. It’s likely a little of both but very difficult to accurately document. But, there is a lot of circumstantial evidence suggesting that Indigenous groups dictated what type of beads they wanted. And they sought new styles as a means of status and distinction from their peers. ³⁸

“Unable to provide the Indigenous men with their request, they counter offered with a “watch, handkerchief, a bunch of red beads, and a dollar….which was refused. Instead, the Indigenous men wanted beads they described as “tiaco-mo-shack” described as blue “chief’s beads” (Dubin 2009, 276); both sides of the trade were thus left empty-handed.” ³⁹

Combining the New and Old Traditions

More traditional methods of adornment were not immediately abandoned and quite often simply combined with glass bead adornment.

Sketch of a Inuit brow band collected at Repulse Bay by Captain Charles F.
Hall in the early 1860s. The band was made from seal or caribou skin. It has a row of
suspended seal teeth beads. Only the eleven central teeth have strings of alternate light and dark beads. An example of integrating new glass trade beads with traditional beading materials. What alludes us most in many of these historic examples is meaning. Was there social or spiritual meaning to using seals teeth, and only using strung beads of the central eleven strings? Or the colors of the beads used? Probably. Unfortunately traders or explorers rarely collected this information. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. ⁴⁰

Based on historic documents and historic Indigenous artifacts, in western Canada Indigenous People retained their traditional bead forms (e.g., use of dentalium, elk canines, etc.) long after the introduction of the glass bead. This fact is born out archaeologically. For example, at the early period western forts, shell and bone traditional bead artifacts are present. ⁴¹ It is unclear whether these numbers represent changing Indigenous traditions and tastes, or growing unavailability of traditional beads. Nor is it known how much these figures differ from region to region.

Some traditional Indigenous beading methods left none or little archaeological evidence. Numerous historic references suggest that Indigenous People retained porcupine quillwork long after the introduction of glass trade beads. Glass beads were combined with quillwork.

“[Porcupine quillwork]…was never replaced by beadwork throughout the ‘real’ bead period, save possibly for the decoration of women’s dresses. Rather the two crafts existed side by side. The areas of decoration and the designs were much the same in both techniques.” (Ethnologist John Ewers describing Blackfoot clothing and decoration. Brackets mine) ⁴²

This First Nations girl’s dress, collected by George Catlin, contains glass beads, quillwork, and painted decorations. According to Wayne Davis (1972:44) among the Blackfoot in the US: *“This was particularly true of the last quarter of the nineteenth century which witnessed a florescence of Blackfeet beadwork and a decadence of quillwork.”* ⁴³

Other fragile organic materials, such as seeds, were also used as beadwork. And, unless carbonized or found in some other well-preserved context, might not survive in the archaeological record. Or not identified as beads. Lawrence J. Barkwell (Coordinator of Metis Heritage and Historic Research, Louis Riel Institute) descried how the Metis used Wolf Willow seeds as beads, even when glass trade beads were present. ⁴⁴

A combination of wolf willow and glass seed beads used to make necklaces (top left). A close-up of wolf willow seeds showing the long lighter colored lines adding structure and design to the seed. ⁴⁵

Many of these more traditional types of beading (i.e., dentalium, quillwork, and use of older forms of glass beadwork) have seen a resurgence in recent years as Indigenous artists identify with their histories.

Contemporary Indigenous beaders, by studying traditional beading techniques, have resurrected some of the Indigenous traditional forms of beading; such as making the once highly valued dentalium shell beads into earrings and necklaces. As Gwich’in beader Tania Larsson explains, it was her desire to retain traditions and identity: *“I always wanted to wear jewelry that represented my Gwich’in culture and it was really hard to find that.”* ⁴⁶ So, perhaps we haven’t finished that quantitative traditional bead curve representing the popularity of Indigenous traditional beadwork as we continue to follow it into the 21st century. ⁴⁷

‘Oh, Those Damn Seed Beads’

This was the cry that often went up when excavating at historic period sites. Too much of good thing. Thousands of tiny glass seed beads scattered in the dirt could make any archaeological investigation come to a grinding halt. Seed beads are really small (<2.0mm in diameter) drawn, tubular- or round-shaped beads that comprise most of the glass beads we find at fur trade sites. Sometimes they make up over 95% of the entire glass bead assemblage. ⁴⁸

And because they are so small, they create problems when excavating. Most of them would fall through our conventional one-quarter inch mesh screens. To avoid this, we often use fine screens to recover them. But, if we used only fine screens to sift through all our dirt, little would get done. So, we often use a combination of both. ⁴⁹

Photograph on the left is from the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria, Alberta, Canada of a beaded garment or bag. All the beads are the small glass seed beads used to decorate the object. One wrong stroke with the trowel and we would have lost this unique artifact. We would have only found hundreds of tiny beads scattered on the ground in its place. The photograph on the right shows seed beads found at the Fort Union site, North Dakota, USA. Seed beads, while always important throughout the fur trade, continued to become more popular throughout the nineteenth century. Indigenous People used more of these small beads for embroidery for larger designs and patterns on garments and other objects. ⁵⁰

The documentary evidence shows that these small beads become increasingly popular over time. More small beads were needed as decorating large areas of skins or cloth with designs increased. ⁵¹

These two images illustrate changes in the use of glass beads by Plains Indigenous through time. Increasingly throughout the 19th century, many Indigenous groups used the much smaller glass beads to embroider large areas of cloth and leather (right), unlike the larger beads used as hair and necklace decorations (left). ⁵²

Over the years archaeologists have done little with these beads except classify (to color and shape), count, and occasionally curse them. But a detailed look at them suggests much more. Over time they changed in size, shape and become more uniform. ⁵³

Drawn glass seed beads from some of the western Canadian fur trade forts showing the major changes through time. The upper diagram shows the gradual change from tubular- and square-shaped seed beads most common in the late 18th century – early 19th century archaeological assemblages, to round or circular seed beads by the mid-19th century. ⁵⁴ The glass seed beads are more frequently smaller after the mid-19th century, as the two photographs from Fort Riviere Tremblante and the later Fort Vermilion II beads indicate. There is also less variation in size, allowing First Nations and Metis women to sew more uniform, neater designs. The bottom photograph shows the amount of variation in bead shape of the larger seed beads on the left side, as opposed to the smaller, later period, more uniform seed beads on the right side. ⁵⁵

It’s hard to imagine Indigenous women threading some of these smaller seed beads. As the above image shows some of these beads were 1mm or less in diameter. But they preferred the smaller, more uniform beads, allowing them to produce beautiful, more intricate designs in an array of colors.

This beaded cushion is from Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada. It was made by Metis Francoise LaFleur Moberly, daughter of Jean Baptiste Lafleur. c.1879-1885. Metis women were superb embroiderers and artists. Because of their exquisite floral designs (in both silk embroidery and beadwork), the Metis became know as the ‘*Flower Bead People*‘, crafting floral beaded works in a rich variety of colors. ⁵⁶

A Few Closing Thoughts About Fur Trade Glass Beads

Another change, not discussed much here, occurred with those tiny seed beads. By the 1860s the number of bead colors had increased. But, that’s a topic for my next segment on glass trade beads. I’ll stop here before this blog becomes a book.

Besides providing you with some basic historical information about glass trade beads in the Americas, in particular Canada, I hope this work is valuable to the new Indigenous beaders out there. A lot of this information is not very accessible. A lot of our work never reaches the general public as much as we would like.

This second segment on historic glass beads focused more on some this artifact’s technical aspects. And the changes that occurred in glass bead styles over time. Some of these changes were related to changing European bead-making techniques. Others were driven by Indigenous People demanding either new or certain types of glass bead styles. The millions of tiny little seed beads represent a change to just not using beads as adornment in hair, ears or as necklaces. Instead they become works of art and design on clothing, dog and horse paraphernalia, allowing for a incredible degree and range of artistic variation, only possibly seen in pre-contact Indigenous quillwork and painting.

In the next, and perhaps last, segment on glass beads, I’ll examine in more detail Indigenous bead design, focusing primarily on bead color. Is this where group identity and distinctions reside? Is this where we see more cultural continuity? Or, is color, like different bead styles, simply a means of fashion, constantly changing, expressing affiliation or differentiation of individuals in Indigenous society? We’ll investigate further what those colorful glass beads can tell us about this topic?

This is my first attempt at using footnotes. I hope this format is more satisfactory to my readership. There are those of you who are only interested about basic facts and results. And, there are those readers who want more details and references. Hopefully this format addresses both needs.[↩]
In my next segment on beads, I’ll tell you more about the meaning of the color combinations used for this beadwork.[↩]
You can find more information about this artifact in: Timothy C. Losey, et al. 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975. Occasional Paper No. 3. Historic Sites Service. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.[↩]
Occasionally in archaeology we can assign artifacts to specific families or individuals, if the documentary or oral evidence is sufficient. However, in most instances we can only say that the glass beads were likely purchased, and the design made, by an Indigenous woman living at these fur trade forts. Little else is known about the owner. For example, was she of First Nations or Metis descent? Were her ethnic affiliations Cree, Chipewyan, Blackfoot, or some other Indigenous group?[↩]
There are many excellent works on historic glass bead manufacture. I will list some of these sources in my footnotes as we go along. My aim here is to provide you with only enough basic information to follow the terminology I use in this blog.[↩]
from Gregory A. Waselkov, David W. Morgan, and Billie Coleman. 2015. Ceramics and Glass Beads as Symbolic Mixed Media in Colonial Native North America. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 27.[↩]
http://8weeksinitaly.blogspot.com/2012/08/glass-tour-in-murano.html[↩]
from: Alexander Nesbitt 1878:93-94. Glass. South Kensington Museum Art Handbook. Chapman and Hall, London. Brackets mine[↩]
These images are from Wayne Davis’s M.A. Thesis. 1972. GLASS TRADE BEADS OF THE NORTHERN PLAINS-‘UPPER MISSOURI REGION. University of Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Wayne traveled to a number of major museums and institutions in the United States to look at the bead collections. He found these bead sample cards at the Peabody Museum. He sought advice about glass trade beads from renowned ethnologist John Ewers and archaeologist Waldo Wedel at the Smithsonian Institution.[↩]
From: Karlis Karklins. 2012. “Guide to the Description and Classification of Glass Beads Found in the Americas.” In BEADS. Journal for the Society of Bead Researchers 24[↩]
The glass bead manufacturing industry is much more complex than what I have set out here. There are many good sources describing the history of bead making in considerable detail. Perhaps one of the best for the beginner which is also available online, is this work from the Fort Vancouver Museum Series: Robert J. Cromwell Flynn O. Renard Elaine C. Dorset. Beads. NCRI Curation Series No. 5. This work describes the beads found at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA. Many of these beads are similar to those found at the western Canadian inland fur trade forts. What makes this work attractive for the beginner are the many excellent photographs of all the glass bead types recovered at this fur trade post. Also a very informative published Journal Series is: BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. This online journal includes a host of subjects on glass beads from all over the world.[↩]
Kidd, Kenneth E., and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System of Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeology. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 7.[↩][↩]
Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 2012. Guide to the Description and Classification of Glass Beads Found in the Americas. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 8.[↩][↩]
Kidd, Kenneth and Martha Kidd. 2012. A Classification System for Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeologists. In BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24(24).[↩]
Image courtesy of: https://www.thebeadchest.com/products/rare-super-jumbo-elongated-russian-blue-tube-beads-25x15mm?_pos=1&_sid=92e5f454f&_ss=r[↩]
Mathew Stirling, in a 1947 paper entitled: Arikara Glassworking. Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences 37:257-363, searched the early ethnographies for references to this practice. Wayne Davis, 1972, continued Stirling’s work, quoting other sources in his M.A. thesis and a published paper: “Time and Space Considerations for Diagnostic Northern Plains Glass Trade Bead Types.” In Historical Archaeology in Northwestern North America, edited by Ronald M. Getty and Knut Fladmark. The University of Calgary Archaeological Association. Although most of his work focused on historic Plains First Nations in the USA, his approach and questions he asked have important implications for historic glass bead archaeology in Canada.[↩]
From G. F. Will and H. J. Spinden. 1906. The Mandans. A Study of Their Culture, Archaeology and Language. Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University Paper, Vol. III. Cambridge: “The secret is only known to a few. Glass of several colors is pounded fine, each color separate;this is washed in several waters until the glass stops staining the water. They then take an earthen pot of some three gallons, put a platter in the mouth of the pot which has a nitch on its edge through which to watch the beads. Then some well seasoned clay, mixed with sand and tempered with water till of consistency of dough, is taken, and from it are made number of little sticks of the size of the hole desired in the bead. these are heated to a red heat and cooled again. The pot is also heated to clean it. Then small balls of the clay are made to serve as pedestals for the beads. The powdered with a little wooden paddle, where is is paddled into an oblong form, the clay stick is then laid across it and the lass is wound regular. To put in other colors the other end of the paddle stick, which is sharp, is used to make a hole which is then filled with another colored glass. A hole is then made in the center of each pedestal and a bead stuck in it . Then the platter is put in the coals and the pot is inverted over it; dry wood is placed about the whole and burnt….When the beads are whitish red and grow pointed, they are taken off. The clay center is picked out with an awl.”[↩]
Solid glass melts at 2552-2912F. Crushed or powdered glass melts between ~1300 – 1,500F. A large campfire can reach temperatures of over 1,100F. The clay pot might have increased these temperatures if the glass melted to be able to form beads. I’m searching for crushed or powdered glass as I write. I can’t wait to try out this technique.[↩]
“Long, long ago, we are told, the Cheyennes manufactured for themselves what might be called beads, but perhaps were small charms made of some vitrified substance—perhaps of pulverized glass—after the white people were met. Such beads are said to have been made within two or three generations. Many of them were fashioned in the shape of a lizard; that is, a four-legged object with a long tail and a small head. The ceremony connected with making such objects was secret, and he who wished to possess one was obliged to go to some person who himself had been taught the ceremony, and to ask that person to teach him how to make one. A payment was made for the service. The two went away together to conduct the ceremony in private. It is believed that in old times, long before the whites came, these beads were made from the quartz sand found on ant-hills, and that this was melted in an earthen pot. The secret of making them now seems to be lost.
In later times they melted the glass, with which to make the beads, in the ladles used in melting lead for their bullets. These ornaments or charms were made in various shapes, often in the form of a lizard, as said, or flat on one side and round on the other. Sometimes they had a perforation through which a string might be passed; at other times merely a constriction between two ends about which a string was tied. The mold was made of clay.” George B. Grinnell. 2008. The Cheyenne Indians. Their History and Lifeways. World Wisdom))

Grinnell also described how Arikara women used only a frying pan, wooden tool and a bend of sand to ‘remake the beads’. ((This is how Davis phrased it. I haven’t looked up Grinnell’s original quote. If this is the case, they might have been crushing glass trade beads to make their own types of beads.[↩]
George Catlin. 1848. Illustrations of the Manners, Customs and Condition of the Norther American Indians. London.[↩]
Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection. Robert J. Cromwell, Flynn O. Renard, Elaine C. Dorset. Within the Collection. A Look Inside the Fort Vancouver Museum. BEADS, NCRI Curation Series No. 5.[↩]
Bead information from: Arthur J. Ray. 1974. The Indians in the Fur Trade. University of Toronto Press. HBCA B. 239/d/10-72[↩]
Data from: Karlis Karklins. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802 – 1806. National Historic Parks and Sites Branch. Parks Canada. HBCA B. 39/a/2, fols. 65-68.[↩]
Occasionally glass beads can be assigned to individual households within the fort, when dwellings are well defined and occupation periods are short. We can also assume that both selection and use was gender-specific, being the domain of the Indigenous women working at the forts. It was a rare man that worked with glass trade beads.[↩]
Record from HBCA B.224/d/2[↩][↩]
Prior to the 1880s all women at these inland forts were of Indigenous descent. Thus, at the early forts we can be confident that either a First Nations or Metis woman purchased and used the beads. Diagram from: Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1983. Historical and Archaeological Investigations: Fort Dunvegan, Alberta (GlQp-3). Final Report, Permit 82096. On File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta.[↩]
Seriation is a relative dating technique in archaeology. Artifacts from numerous archaeological sites are placed in chronological order. For example, often we don’t know when a particular bead was initially made. However, by identifying which beads were found at well dated fur trade sites, we can begin to place their range of use dates in chronological order. In this article I’ll use contextual and frequency seriation. In the former method, only the presence or absence of specific glass bead types recovered from well dated fur trade sites is noted. In the latter method the relative frequency of specific bead types recovered from trade sites is quantified through time.[↩]
These sites date from c.1788 to post-1900 A.D. They mostly come from central and northern Alberta, but also Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and British Columbia. I have also included the Fort Union, North Dakota glass glass bead assemblage on this list. It represents a Great Plains assemblage of which there are few in Canada. It contains a well documented, extensive list of beads. I also occasionally refer to the Fort Michlimackinac (c.1715 – 1781) glass bead assemblage which spans a much earlier date than any of our interior western forts. Also, most of the bead assemblages are only samples of varying sizes recovered from these posts. At some posts, over 50,000 beads were recovered; at others, as few as 50. A few posts, such as Nottingham House, were completely excavated. Thus, it should be kept in mind that the number of bead types present at each post may not be a true indicator of the actual number of bead types. Since number of bead types is usually a function of sample size, these numbers are inaccurate for making direct comparisons of number of bead types between fur trade posts.[↩]
wound bead types = 16; drawn bead types = 13; mold/pressed bead types = 4; blown bead types = 3[↩]
The bead type images are from: Kidd, Kenneth E., and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System of Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeology. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 7. This journal is online.[↩]
Quote is from: Ewers, John C. 1954:42-43. The Indian Trade of the Upper Missouri Before Lewis and Clark: An Interpretation. Bulletin Missouri Historical Society, 8(1), St. Louis.[↩]
Karlis Karklins, personal communication[↩]
Quote from Sherry Farrell Raceette. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation. University of Manitoba. Judy Thompson. 1983. Turn of the Century Metis Decorative Art from the Frederick Bell Collection. ‘She Set the Fashion for the Whole North’. American Indian Art Magazine 8(2):37-53[↩]
I believe the need to differentiate or affiliate oneself with others, is a pan-human behavioral trait – humans, regardless of time period or specific culture, react to new objects in a similar way. In many historic and contemporary societies a few individuals, able to obtain new objects, use them as status symbols. Once those styles acquire a certain degree of popularity within the population, new objects are acquired as a means to differentiate oneself from others. There are exceptions to the rule, however. The Amish, Hutterites and Mennonites, based on religious beliefs, discouraged the use of material culture to distinguish oneself. Instead opting for a uniformity in clothing and other objects. North West Coast Indigenous Peoples accumulated wealth (objects) and then gave it all away, thereby gaining status.[↩]
The early 1750 median fort date represents Fort Michilimackinac (1716 – 1781) located in the Great Lakes Region. This bead assemblage was included because it has a much earlier date than any of the western forts, allowing us to determine the emergence of each glass bead type.[↩]
If some groups retained them much longer, or didn’t use them at all, they might then signify group identity. Our ability to do this kind of comparative analysis is limited, since we often don’t have the specific bead assemblages representing specific Indigenous groups available to us.[↩]
Again, I emphasize that this process was not consistent among all Indigenous groups. Some historic Indigenous groups, such as our North West Coast First Nations, had highly ranked societies, while others in the interior of Canada, were less so.[↩]
From Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto. Brackets mine. This is the encounter between the Lewis and Clark expedition Indigenous groups in the early 19th century.[↩]
Karlis Karklins. 1992. Trade Ornament Usage Among Native Peoples of Canada. A Source Book. Publishing, Supply and Services Canada, Ottawa, Canada. This is a great source book on historic Indigenous ornamentation and decoration in Canada. Lots of historic descriptions, illustrations and photographs of ornament use.[↩]
As high as 33% at Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830), nonexistent at Nottingham House (1801-1804), 1.3% at Riviere Tremblante; 26% at Rocky Mountain House (1799-1821); and 34% at Fort Union (1829-1860); 0% at Fort Edmonton (c.1830-1915); 4% at Fort Victoria (1864-1898) and 0% at Last Mountain House. The general trend is towards the use of fewer traditional beads at the later period forts when these figures are averaged: Traditional beads at pre-1830 forts = 20.1%; post-1830 forts = 7.5%.[↩]
John Ewers 1945:34. The Indian Trade of the Upper Missouri Before Lewis and Clark: An Interpretation. Bulletin Missouri Historical Society, 8(1), St. Louis.[↩]
This image appears in Davis’ M.A. Thesis, pp.216. There is no information about group affiliation or date.[↩]
From: https://www.scribd.com/document/23383369/Wolf-Willow-in-Metis Culture?fbclid=IwAR1zpP2bCRastXKYbzrThONp5SerNGLn1c953aDs_GrKIG_ZSyrOIdzqGoc. Forrest Hagen, Donalda, Alberta, who makes his own wolf willow seed jewelry, introduced me to this method.[↩]
Upper left photograph courtesy of Lawrence Blackwell. Upper right image, courtesy of Forrest Hagen, who also posted more detailed information about this bead art form on my first bead segment.[↩]
From: Christian Allaire. 2017. Meet 8 Indigenous Beaders Who Are Modernizing Their Craft. VOGUE[↩]
Image on the left, courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrVk9g9H2NidjEAUgUXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=images+of+dentalium+jewelry&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001&guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly9jYS5zZWFyY2gueWFob28uY29tL3locy9zZWFyY2g_aHNwYXJ0PXRycCZoc2ltcD15aHMtMDAxJnR5cGU9WTE0M19GMTYzXzIwMTg5N18xMDI2MjAmcD1pbWFnZXMrb2YrZGVudGFsaXVtK2pld2Vscnk&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAMODv0KntyIrZydIfvb_4kvXiteoSqe3nFUkbYEjFVzZgbkkFp5vthaTXHvA8c070096Lzk5zBhPP_2Qxb0PujBv8Ha-yUjvbVHKcX3eckrIChm9VNniLL07gfdXaVJ1gHsD1ZEjq2BdJ8Pfi5i6IRDCbQfCE3Jkb7t4RBzWQuBH#id=7&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fimg1.etsystatic.com%2F076%2F0%2F11489053%2Fil_fullxfull.815585791_qyb9.jpg&action=clickImage on the right courtesy of: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6e/28/04/6e2804fea7702df59ca35da3158c3267.jpg.[↩]
My former colleague, Mike Forsman recovered over 20,000 seed beads in the Main House excavations at the NWC Fort George (c.1792-1800). At Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA, Lester Ross recovered over 100,000 glass trade beads, mostly of the ‘seed bead’ variety.[↩]
Because the recovery methods are so erratic from one fort excavation project to another, quantitative comparison of seed beads to other larger types of beads, or between forts, is virtually meaningless.[↩]
Image on the right from: Steven Leroy DeVore. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Trading Post Collection. Friends of Fort Union Trading Post, Wilson, North Dakota.[↩]
According to Wayne Davis (1972:50) describing the Plains tribes: “In the “modern” period, that is, after 1840, practically everything which the tribes made of cloth or skin shows beadwork. Every kind of garment for both sexes, bags of all sizes’ and shapes, cradles, horse furniture, toys and tipi furnishings, and ceremonial paraphernalia are the principal objects’ which are beaded. The contrast between this profusion and relative scarcity of beadwork in the early period point to the great increase of the craft in the modern period.”[↩]
Left Image: Mandeh-Pahchu, Mandan Man, painting by Karl Bodmer. Right Image, courtesy of George Ranch Museum Collection (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth8340/m1/1/high_res/) [↩]
Wayne Davis, in his 1972 M.A. Thesis noted: “Douglas (1936:91) noted that “seed” beads were 1/16 to 3/32 of an inch in diameter, and varied in thickness considerably, especially the older specimens. Often he found that one edge was thicker than the other. Improved methods of manufacture in today’s bead factories make for much more regularly sized and shaped beads. The uneven nature of a sampling of beads would therefore suggest something
of their possible age.”[↩]
Fort example at the northern HBC post, Nottingham House (1801 – 1804), 15% of the glass seed beads were tubular-shaped. At the later Fort Vermilion II site (c.1830 – 1935) only 0.5% were tubular-shaped. When examined temporally, other forts produced similar results.[↩]
In his M.A. thesis, Wayne Davis, although he did not provide any quantitative analysis from his American Plains posts, already predicted these temporal changes in American Indigenous glass seed beads, that we can now quantify from our Canadian archaeological glass seed bead assemblages.[↩]
Photograph courtesy of the Fort Vermilion Museum, Alberta, Canada.[↩]

Posted on March 11, 2022March 11, 2022
Beads in Antiquity: Searching for Meaning (Part One)

Most of you are familiar with images such as these when anyone mentions beads. Glass trade beads come in all shapes, sizes and colors. These are only a few of the thousands of beads I’ve recovered from our many fur trade sites in western Canada. Their beauty, uniqueness, and considerable variety are one reason Indigenous People, across Canada and the world, traded for them. While certainly beautiful, beads were also a means of expression unparalleled by few other mediums. But what types of beads did Indigenous People make before glass trade beads appeared in the Americas; and the world? And how did those prehistoric beads shape acceptance of glass trade beads in the Americas?

“Beads are fucked up. I just want to address that….The historic threads of the slave trade, land theft, and community displacement are strung through glass beads from Europe. Needless to say I’ve got a complicated relationship with those beautiful little bubbles of glass.” (Bobby Dues, contemporary beader, Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate Tribe, Tucson, Arizona) (From: Christian Allaire. 2017. Meet 8 Indigenous Beaders Who Are Modernizing Their Craft. VOGUE)

Beads: Just Baubles, or More?

I recently read an article in Vogue Magazine about contemporary Indigenous beaders. Bobby Dues’ statement brought back memories for me about beads. He isn’t alone when expressing his feelings about glass trade beads. I’ve learned that the hard way several times over the years. Beads, it seems, revive peoples’ memories about their history. And for some Indigenous People, those memories are dark.

My first confrontation with this darker side of glass trade beads came in 1980. I was a teaching assistant at Simon Fraser University’s archaeological field school at Bella Bella, British Columbia, Canada. We were excavating the historic HBC Fort McLaughlin (c.1833 – 1843) site. Local First Nations People assisted us. The sight of glass trade beads brought on some negative, emotional outbursts from our assistants.

The conversation went something like this: ‘You gave us a few glass beads, for furs that were much more valuable. You duped us.’ Over the years that’s one recurring theme I’ve heard about glass trade beads.

I sympathize with these feelings. However, they bring up some misconceptions many people have about glass trade beads.

Let’s start with trade. Trade is: A transaction between two parties which is mutually acceptable to both parties. Under most circumstances trade can’t happen unless both sides agree to it. First Nations People weren’t forced to trade. They traded freely, acquiring something useful and unique, in return for something common in their territories. The transaction may look lopsided. If you only look at it from a European monetary perspective.

And from the many historic accounts I’ve read, Indigenous People were shrewd traders. For example, the Gwich’in demanded the latest styles in beads at the Yukon forts. When they didn’t get them they either didn’t trade or traded elsewhere:

“…the frustrations in trying to ensure an up-to-date inventory of beads of acceptable size and color for a market that changed faster than the time required to order and receive goods from England.” (Trader, Alexander Murray, Fort Yukon)

Whenever something unique enters a trade system, it becomes valuable (because of its uniqueness). And highly desirable. I just read an article about Venetian glass trade beads found in the Americas before Columbus arrived. How? By trade routes from Europe through Asia and across the Bering Sea, into Alaska. Why? Because Indigenous People desired this easily transportable, and very unique item. And likely because they had something valuable to offer in return.

Blue wound glass beads, found by Michael Kunz, the University of Alaska Museum of the North and Robin Mills of Alaska Bureau of Land Management. The beads were found at three sites along Alaska’s Brooks Range. Mass spectrometry carbon-dating on trace amounts of twine discovered alongside the beads dated them between 1397 – 1488 A.D. Photograph courtesy of: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/tiny-blue-beads-european-artifact-north-america-old-180976966/. European articles entered the Americas before Columbus arrived. Along trade networks stretching from central Europe reaching the Americas, these easily transportable and rare items were desired (but not forced on) by Indigenous People in the Americas.

Secondly, there’s the whole gnarly problem of the cross-cultural value of things. Yes, from a European monetary value system, sea otter pelts were worth more than a few glass beads. At least in Europe. But, those glass beads carried much more value in the Indigenous world than sea otter pelts. They carried, what Anishinaabe, Ojibway bead researcher Malinda Gray has termed cultural value. In other words, because of their uniqueness and scarcity, they brought prestige and power to their Indigenous owners.

As Gray points out this trivialization of the value of objects traded or gifted to Indigenous People all started with first contact:

“The language Columbus used is belittling his Indigenous “converts” with the phrase “trifles of insignificant worth”. The discourse has been set immediately after European contact that beads hold no value and are easily used as tools to
seduce Indigenous people into the European value system. For the Europeans, beads are merely trinkets, which will be used in trade and conversions, but to the Indigenous people they are objects that can increase status through expression.” (From: Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto.)

So ingrained were glass beads in some Indigenous prestige and economic systems, that, for example, they determined whether a Kutchin man could even marry. Unless he first decorated his prospective wife with glass beads. And if he wanted to become a chief, he had to collect two-hundred dollars worth of beads (from Murray, Alexander Hunter. 1910. Journal of the Yukon, 1847-48. Edited by L J. Burpee. National Archives of Canada, Publication No.4. Government Printing Bureau, Ottawa.)

To say that historically glass beads were an inconsequential bauble is to do a great disservice to their importance and value among Indigenous Peoples. And promotes disrespect for the people who traded for them! Historically, value is often a tough thing to pin down.

Try as I might, my arguments about the value of those blue trade beads to North West Coast First Nations People fell on deaf ears.

However, not all Indigenous perspectives about beads are negative. As I continued reading in Vogue Magazine, many young Indigenous artists are picking up beading as a medium (https://www.vogue.com/vogueworld/article/indigenous-beadwork-instagram-artists-jewelry-accessories). And viewing the bead’s historic role in a more positive light. Beader, Tania Larson puts it this way:

““I [was] looking at all the Gwich’in items they [Smithsonian Institution] had in their collection. . . . These items that belonged to my nation were the most beautiful pieces of art I had seen. This visit is when I really fell in love with the color palette of vintage and antique beads. The colors and qualities of them were so different from today’s bead production.” (Tania Larson, Teetł’it Gwich’in, Yellowknife, N.W.T., Canada. brackets mine)

Catherine Blackburn (Dene, Saskatchewan, Canada) believes the study of historic beadwork gives Indigenous People a voice about their histories:

“Beadwork showcases the individuality of our histories. . . instead of generalizing our cultures and perpetuating harmful narratives….Within this space, we can reclaim and celebrate our identities.”

As I read their stories, certain words and concepts about beading kept reoccurring: Beading as a means of communication, expressing individuality, unity/commonality (family and group); and, connection (with the past). In a seeming contradiction, capable of expressing both distinction and commonality among their owners.

As Melinda Gray also points out:

“Beadwork encompasses every aspect of Indigenous life, it transcends temporarily and spatiality….there are two sides of beads within the culture: beadwork embodies both the traditional part and the contemporary future.”

So, before taking a closer look at those glass trade beads in the Canadian fur trade, let’s step back and examine some ancient and traditional forms of beading around the world. Hopefully, this digression into the past will lead to discovery and clearer understanding of their meaning.

First, we need to define what a bead is. The definition below is quite broad. Believe me, I’m all over the map when it comes to what constitutes a bead:

“A small piece of glass, stone, bone, or other material, of various shapes, and perforated for threading with others as a necklace or rosary or for sewing or attaching onto fabric, leather or some other solid medium.”

Antiquity of Beads in the ‘Old World’

Over the millennia, throughout the world, beads appeared in every shape, color and size imaginable. People from many cultures made them from stone, bone, ceramic, metal, glass, wood, claws, horn, quills, and teeth.

As to their appeal and function. Well, the answer to that question varies and changes. Obviously beads of any sort were pretty and used for adornment. However, it seems like a lot of work and effort went into something that was simply meant to be aesthetically self-pleasing. And, if beads were used for adornment, then, for who? For only the owner? Or for others? An audience? Perhaps some of the examples below will lead to answering these questions.

Moroccan Snail Shell Beads

In November, 2021 archaeologists discovered perforated snail shell beads in Morocco dating back 150,000 years – possibly the oldest known example of human jewelry ever found.

These snail shell beads pose an intriguing question. Did early humans already need to communicate to others with adornment? Or are we reading too much into what may have been simply an article for personal adornment? According to archaeologist, Steven L. Kuhn: “[The beads] were probably part of the way people expressed their identity with their clothing….They’re the tip of the iceberg for that kind of human trait. They show that it was present even hundreds of thousands of years ago, and that humans were interested in communicating to bigger groups of people than their immediate friends and family.” (From: https://news.artnet.com/art-world/worlds-oldest-jewelry-morocco-2037635)

If this evidence passes academic scrutiny (because there is currently some debate whether humans made those perforations) then expression with objects may be an ancient human trait.

In this early bead example, it took little effort to fashion the natural form and beauty of the snail shell into a necklace of beads. But, with this method, while effective, there was little choice in adornment (unless you used different types of snail shells). And, if these shells were common and accessible then everyone could make a shell bead necklace, leaving little room for individual expression.

African Ostrich Shell Beads

In other parts of Africa, 50,000 years ago, researchers found archaeological evidence of the first human-formed beads made from ostrich shells. This is considered an important step because now, as Doctors Jennifer Miller and Yiming Wang state:

“Ostrich eggshell (OES) beads are ideal artifacts for understanding ancient social relationships. They are the world’s oldest fully manufactured ornaments, meaning that instead of relying on an item’s natural size or shape, humans completely transformed the shells to produce beads. This extensive shaping creates ample opportunities for variations in style. Because different cultures produced beads of different styles, the prehistoric accessories provide researchers a way to trace cultural connections.” (From: Jennifer M. Miller and Yiming V. Wang Ostrich eggshell beads reveal 50,000-year-old social network in Africa. Nature.)

Unlike the snail shell beads, these ancient ostrich shell beads were shaped thereby allowing individuals, families or entire groups of people to express their identity, either purposely or otherwise (i.e., through their collective beliefs, values, or methods) by shaping them differently. Original story by: Jennifer M. Miller and Yiming V. Wang Ostrich eggshell beads reveal 50,000-year-old social network in Africa. Nature. Photograph courtesy of: Jennifer M. Miller (https://www.shh.mpg.de/2080930/beads-social-network-africa#:~:text=Ostrich%20eggshell%20%28OES%29%20beads%20are%20ideal%20artifacts%20for,humans%20completely%20transformed%20the%20shells%20to%20produce%20beads.

Egyptian Faience Beads

The early Egyptians highly valued their jewelry, including beads. Using a combination of ceramic and a glass-like glaze, named faience, this newly formed plain-colored material turned vibrant shades of yellow, red, brown, green, turquoise, orange, auburn, and blue when kiln fired.

Unlike beads made from natural materials, these beads were fashioned into different shapes and sizes. Like the ostrich shell beads, the Egyptians attained more bead shape variety this way.

Egyptian faience beads come in a variety of sizes, shapes and colors. With the addition of color, there was now even more artistic license in their use. Badarian cultures of the Predynastic Period (c.4,400 – 4,000 BC) first made faience beads. These first faience beads were from glazed steatite – a soapstone rich in talc. (from: https://ca.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?hspart=trp&hsimp=yhs-001&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&p=imageantiquity+of+egyptian+faience+beads)

The Egyptians, however, went one step further. Instead of using the natural color of the material, they controlled color. And for Egyptians, color, as it does in many cultures, took on symbolic significance and meaning:

Black – death, the underworld and the unknown; birth, life and resurrection;
Red – life or a higher being, destruction, blood and flesh;
Blue – life, birth, rebirth and fertility; Nile River;
Green – growth, goodness, fertility and life; good deeds and productivity;
Yellow – sun, eternity;
White – purity, innocence, cleanliness and clarity.

(Information from: https://www.jewelryshoppingguide.com/egyptian-jewelry-guide/)

Ancient Egyptian bead colors also symbolized good luck, fortune, love, joy, fertility not only during life but also as a funerary figurines afterlife. (From: https://ancientegyptianfacts.com/ancient-egypt-beads.html)

Antiquity of Beads in the Americas

The antiquity and popularity of beads varies considerably regionally throughout the Americas. Prior to European contact, Indigenous People made beads from stone, bone, shells, quills, and teeth. And, as in other parts of the world, they often fashioned them from naturally occurring materials or deliberately shaped and sized them to suit their needs.

West Coast of Canada

One outstanding example of a stone beads comes from Sechelt, British Columbia, along Canada’s West Coast. Archaeologists, together with local shíshálh First Nation members uncovered burials, dated c.3,700 years ago, literally shrouded in stone beads. Parallel rows of nearly 350,000 small stone beads, weighing about seventy pounds completely covered the man’s body.

Recreated faces and bead covering of two burials from Sechelt, British Columbia, Canada. The stone beads worn by the man alone represented a tremendous investment in labour, making them highly valuable. According to a recent article in The News Talkers (https://thenewstalkers.com/community/discussion/32424/buried-in-beads-4000-years-ago-this-chiefly-family-lives-again) : “Producing so many beads by hand would have taken a vast amount of time, says Clark. Made from small pieces of shale or mudstone, each bead had to be ground into a disc roughly half the size of an aspirin, then drilled with a hole. When archaeologist Brian Thom of the University of Victoria tried to replicate this process several years ago with pieces of slate and traditional stone tools, it took him 13 minutes on average to make just one stone bead. An experienced bead-maker could have sped things up considerably, doubling the rate of production, suggests Clark. But even in that best-case scenario, more than 35,000 hours would have been needed to make the chief’s ceremonial bead garment.”

This tremendous investment in labour bestowed on this man, through beads, distinguished him from most others. Few others would have been able to duplicate burial shrouds of this sort in North West Coast society.

Dentalium: Nature’s Bead

Also on America’s West Coast, First Nations People used the beautiful, elongated dentalium, or tusk shells as natural beads.

Also referred to as tooth shells or tusk shells. Traditionally, the shells of Antalis pretiosa (previously known as Dentalium pretiosum, the precious dentalium (a species which occurs from Alaska to Baja, California) were harvested from deep waters off the coast of Vancover Island.

According to Janet Walker (https://walkergoldsmiths.com/dentalium-is-everywhere/): “Dentalium is a seashell harvested on the Pacific coast of western Washington and southern British Columbia in waters averaging 60 feet deep, it rarely washed up on shore and had to be deliberately removed from the sea floor with a broom-type tool. It was traded everywhere. The standard was 6 foot strings strung end to end in a manner that they didn’t fit inside each other as the standard unit of trade. Journals of early fur traders and ships logs mention fathoms of Dentalium – 6 feet long used as a standard for trading.”

Dentalium was so precious and desirable, it was traded over a wide geographical area. It endured during historic times when glass trade beads were already available. We find dentalium shell at our interior western 18th and 19th Canadian fur trade posts, nearly a thousand miles from the West Coast. Was its retention one way of keeping that connection with one’s past? Perhaps. It did represent long-standing historical traditions and retention of cultural value.

Shells of the species Antalis pretiosa which had been gathered on the shores of Vancouver Island were first traded to the Canadian Plateau between 1,000 and 1 BCE. During the 1st century CE, the shell was a common trade item in the Plateau region. The shell’s length and quality determined value. Highest quality shells would be about 2.25 inches long, and a dozen would typically be strung together. A 27.5 inch string of dentalium was worth a redwood dugout canoe (Dubin, Lois Sherr. 1999. North American Indian Jewelry and Adornment: From Prehistory to the Present. New York: Harry N. Abrams).
Photograph: Choker Plateau c 1875-1900 Shell (Dentalium pretosium), glass beads, sinew, brass beads. L 33 cm. Nez Perce National Historical Park, NEPE 2194 Bracelet 1830s Shell (Dentalium pretosium), glass beads, leather. L 26 cm. Nez Perce National Historical Park, NEPE 8762.

Wishram woman in bridal garb, c.1910. While her garb is mostly made of glass beads, her earrings are dentalium. (Photograph by Edward S. Curtis (1868-1952). If you look closely, she is wearing what look like wampum beads (see below) around her neck and cowrie shell beads around her waist.

East Coast Wampum Beads

On North America’s East Coast, First Nations People cut and drilled shells to make wampum beads. Wampum — a Narragansett (Algonquian language family) word meaning a string of white shell beads — are tubular beads manufactured from Atlantic coast whelk shell (white beads) and quahog clam shell (purple beads).

The Two Row Wampum Belt (Kaswentha) of the Haudenosaunee People: “It symbolizes an agreement of mutual respect and peace between the Haudenosaunee and European newcomers (initially the Dutch) to North America. The two rows of purple wampum beads on a background of white beads represent a canoe and a European ship. The parallel paths represent the rules governing the behavior of both Peoples. The belt stipulates that neither group will force their laws, traditions, customs or language on each other, but will coexist peacefully as each group follows their own path.” (Source: Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads. Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto).

“Wampum was its own visual language that represented more than beads, it represented a value system for the Iroquois people that was not only political, but also expressed cultural values.” (From: Malinda Gray, Anishinaabe, Ojibway beader. In Beads. Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value).

Elk ‘Ivory’ Beads

On the prairies in central Canada and the United States, First Nations People used elk canines as a sort of bead, perforating it and attaching it to their garments.

According to Karen Giering, Royal Alberta Museum: “Elk were hunted for food, their hide was used for clothing, their antlers were made into a variety of tools, and their eye teeth were shaped and polished into pendant beads used to decorate clothing (Grinnell 1892; Kidd 1986; Wissler 1986). All elk have two upper canines or eye teeth. Sometimes called ivories, these teeth are vestigial tusks and are actual ivory.” (From: Elk Ivory Pendants in Alberta. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SURVEY OF ALBERTA
OCCASIONAL PAPER NO. 38)

An Arikara girl. c.1908. Wearing a garment adorned with elk teeth. Photograph by Edward Curtis. Ethnographer G. B. Grinnell describes elk teeth and marriage arrangements
of the Blackfoot People: “A chief’s daughter would already have plenty of good clothing, but if the girl lacks anything, it is furnished. Her dress is made of antelope skin, white as snow, and perhaps ornamented with two or three hundred elk tushes. … Elk tushes were highly prized, and were used for ornamenting women’s dresses. A gown profusely decorated with them was worth two good horses.”

Besides being highly decorative, what else did the possession of the dentalium or elk canines convey? Because they were so difficult to attain, they were valuable. And because not everyone could purchase them in such large quantities, they distinguished the owner from others. In other words, they communicated the owner’s gender, marital status, and social position to others.

“The Blackfoot people have always communicated important information through clothing. From a distance, a Blackfoot person could be identified by their style of dress. Colour, pattern, and trim conveyed information such as an individual’s status, family affiliation, or special relation-ships with certain animals (Wissler 1986). These garments were more than beautiful clothing. They embodied and expressed values and spiritual beliefs at the core of Blackfoot life.” (Karen Giering. 2019. Elk Ivory Pendants in Alberta. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SURVEY OF ALBERTA
OCCASIONAL PAPER NO. 38)

Quill Beads

Wampum, stone or dentalium beads were less than ideal for decorating large areas of objects because they were either time-consuming to make or hard to acquire. With quills (from porcupines or birds), however, People could decorate large areas of an object. But, are quills beads? Here I’m pushing the definition to the limit.

Porcupine or bird quills were light and hollow and attachable to objects. Unlike most stone or shell, they could be dyed to produce a variety of colors (black, blues, yellow, and reds). Both design elements and colors among the Arapaho and Odawa represented sacred beings and connections to nature. According to A. G. Green and Daniel Radus, specific colors had unique meanings allowing for diverse and unique designs carrying many cultural or religious meanings (From: Green, A. G. (2015-01-01). “Arapaho Women’s Quillwork: Motion, Life, and Creativity”. Ethnohistory. 62 (2): 387–388. Radus, Daniel (2018). “Margaret Boyd’s Quillwork History”. Early American Literature. 53 (2): 513–537.

Quillwork rosettes of concentric circles adorned historical Plains men’s shirts, as did parallel panels of quillwork on the sleeves. These highly abstracted designs contained layers of symbolic meaning. (From Feest, Christian F. Native Arts of North America. London: Thames and Hudson, 1992.)

And even though quills were linear objects, both geometric and circular/curvilinear designs could be created from them. Also, the porcupine (and birds) was widely spread throughout North America (from Alaska to Mexico) providing a readily available medium to work with. In places where it wasn’t present, people traded for quills.

Beautiful porcupine quill work showing both geometric and curvilinear designs. Prior to the introduction of small glass beads, this was one of the few decorative methods capable of covering large areas of an object. Are quills a kind of bead, or acting like beads? Left Photograph courtesy of: https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/quillwork

Most often the quill was not really a bead in the strict definition of the word. It acted more like embroidery (introduced after European contact). But there were exceptions, such as on the traditional quillwork below.

This is perhaps one of the most intriguing photographs of quillwork I’ve ever run across. Not only do both glass beads and quills decorate this historic Eastern Woodland legband – a good example of the retention of quillwork even with the presence of glass beads. But according to authors Christina Cole and Susan Head: “Unflattened quills can be cut and strung like tubular beads as shown in the finger-woven legbands (NMAI 242006);…. these legbands also have flattened quills wrapped around groups of warp yarns to form a decorated warp fringe.” (From: Cole, Christina, and Susan Head. 2010. The History and Analysis of Pre-Aniline Native American Quillwork Dyes. In Textile Society of America Symposium Proceedings.)

Mayan Beads

The ancient Mayans of southern Mexico and central America made jewelry, including beads, from many materials. However, only higher status individuals could wear jewelry. Jade, common to the region, became one of most valuable materials for making jewelry (because making it was so labor-intensive), including beads. It attained religious significance among the Mayans, both in religious offerings and its association with water and vegetation. Mayans associated the green jadeite with rain and the beginning of the growing season and especially the cultivation of corn. It was symbolically associated with life and death. Green jadeite adornment was used in the “life after death” rituals and burials of the important members of society.

Jade beads, in all shapes and sizes were an important adornment for some members of Mayan society. In Mayan society, not only the object (beads) takes on meaning (differentiating members of society) but the material (jade) takes on spiritual and social (semi-translucent green for royalty) significance. Photograph from: https://www.gettyimages.ca/photos/jade-maya

Jadeite can be white, pink, lavender and black. But the most revered color was ya’ax chich or the semi-translucent green jade. While higher status individuals could wear jade beads, most green jadeite jewelry were reserved primarily for royalty (the city-state kings and queens and their relatives). (From: Jack Guy. 2018. How Jade Became More Valuable than Gold in Mayan Culture. Culture Trip: https://theculturetrip.com/central-america/guatemala/articles/how-jade-became-more-valuable-than-gold-in-mayan-culture/)

Where Does Meaning Reside?

Beads, in a variety of shapes, colors, sizes and materials, are a part of our human history. That variety, it seems, is essential for various forms of expression or human distinction or affiliation. Beads, like other forms of material culture, carry meaning and expression in any of their various attributes (e.g., color, material, or shape) or attribute states. But there are no set rules (more on this later) on what attributes signal what messages. Unfortunately, not all attributes express the same things among individuals in different societies. It is the historic trajectory of those attributes which eventually determine specific meaning.

Meaning in bead attributes is sometimes well-documented historically. But not always. When found in the archaeological record, the bead’s context and association is important to ascertain meaning. For example, the simple presence or absence of a specific object, material, or attribute may signal distinction or affiliation among members of society. Among the Maya, jade found only among parts of the population signals distinction of certain members from others. Conversely, a bead attribute such as blue may signify commonality or affiliation within a group, if found among many members in society; as opposed to members of another group or society.

A Few Closing Remarks

Beads range from the very simple natural variety to those requiring a tremendous investment of work in their manufacture. Some were simply means of self-adornment and self-expression, while others carried more information about their owners to others. Pre-colonial beads attained value when made of rare, or hard to acquire objects (e.g., shells, claws or teeth), or investing countless hours making them. Often their degree of value dictated who within a group owned them.

While natural beads might convey value and express gender and social standing, they were limited to some degree as a means of social communication because of their limited diversity. The deliberate manufacture of beads into a variety of shapes, sizes and colors, would have allowed for more and more complex forms of expression. Was this something that humans desired, thus driving more varied and complex bead innovations among certain groups?

All these processes were in operation among Indigenous groups long before Europeans reached the shores of the Americas. As we will see in the next segment on beads, it wasn’t a big leap for Indigenous Peoples to incorporate trade beads, which were rare and unique, and came in a bewildering array of new materials, sizes, shapes and colors, into their economic value and social systems.

One thing is certainly clear. The bead wasn’t just some pretty bauble, or trifles of insignificant worth to Indigenous People, as first described by Christoper Columbus (I wonder if he saw the hypocrisy of his statement as he counted his prayers on his rosary beads). Unfortunately that simplistic view of the bead, and of the People who made and wore them, has lingered for over five-hundred years. And has tainted our perception of its worth and their traditions.

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Tipi Diameter	~No. of Stones/Tipi	Weight (kg) of Stones/Tipi	Wind Speed (kmph)
4 metresw	20	180	100
4 metres	60	540	125
5 metres	55	495	100
5 metres	110	990	125
6 metres	90	810	100
6 metres	190	1,710	125