History & Archaeology - Indigenous Canadian - CanEHdian Stories

April 25, 2022August 14, 2026

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 unequalled 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.

If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback.

To Learn More About My Book

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 known as the ‘*Flower Bead People*‘, crafting floral beaded works in a wide variety of colours. 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 colours 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?

Footnotes:

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, 2022June 5, 2026
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.

If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback.

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.

Posted on January 27, 2022March 7, 2022
Our Canadian Winters. Love ‘Em’? Leave ‘Em’. Or, H….?

This is currently the scene across most of Canada. Winter has set in enveloping us in blistering cold and hills of snow. Image courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrWp2TROvBhanMAUAgXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzIEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=images+of+Edmonton+winters&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001#id=34&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia-cdn.tripadvisor.com%2Fmedia%2Fphoto-s%2F0b%2Fe4%2F7c%2F77%2Fwinter-in-edmonton-canada.jpg&action=click

As I sit here in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, looking out my window at the winter scene and watching the rest of the Country get buried in a half metre of snow, I’m reminded of this quote:

“‘Hear! hear!’ screamed the jay from a neighboring tree, where I had heard a tittering for some time, ‘winter has a concentrated and nutty kernel, if you know where to look for it.’”
– Henry David Thoreau

Right now I’m searching for that nutty kernel but can’t seem to find it!

However, it’s not as if Canadians have been sitting around doing nothing about winter weather. Just sitting around freezing our butts off. For centuries people have waged war with this northern Wonderland. Trying to better deal with its harshness than merely watching and cursing it.

We’re known for our climate throughout the world. Especially our winters. Long, cold winters envelope most of the country. There are good things about winter: Hockey, curling, skiing. But there are also bad things: Record low temperatures. Or snow up to our chins. And then when winter decides to play real dirty, both intense cold and snow come at the same time. And last for a month longer than usual.

This January has been particularly nasty in my neck of the woods. We’ve recorded some of the coldest temperatures on earth. Lasting weeks. And now as January ends, suddenly it’s above freezing. Winter’s way of playing mind games with us. Because we all know, winter is far from over.

I’ve compiled a list of things we made to better deal with winter. Or learned from winter over many centuries. It’s by no means a complete list. Given the weather outside, this might be a good time to share some of them with you.

Winter has its moments. Late last winter my friend Bob Dawe and I went ice-fishing on one our central Alberta lakes. The weather was pretty decent. Unfortunately the fish didn’t get the message.

Physiological Adaptations

If exposed long enough, humans begin to adapt physiologically to extreme climates. The northern Inuit People of Canada have been exposed to extremely cold temperatures for thousands of years. And over the centuries their bodies slowly adapted to their frigid climate. They have a more compact body stature, fewer sweat glands, blood vessels expand, higher metabolic rates than humans living in warmer climates. It’s all about conserving heat or getting it more efficiently to the body’s extremities.

Image courtesy of: https://cdn.images.express.co.uk/img/dynamic/80/590x/secondary/inuit-1070461.jpg

I figure at this rate, in five-six thousand years, our descendants will fare better in our Canadian climate. As we physically begin to adapt to cold.

Foods and Diet

One of the greatest threats of harsh winters to humans is finding both enough and the right kind of foods, or adapting to the foods in that environment. Both Indigenous People and early Euro-Canadians have taken what nature gave them to deal with winter.

Fat-Rich Diets

Traditional Inuit diet consisted of well over forty-percent animal fats and their total calories were derived from mostly meat. Animal fats contain a tremendous amount of calories required to keep warm in extreme temperatures. Yet Inuit People who ate those traditional fat-loaded foods were healthy and didn’t suffer from heart disease.

Muktuk from the bowhead whale. Image courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrUjdN2P_Bh2jMA0zMXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=image+of+seal+or+whale+blubber&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001#id=16&iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fcdn.c.photoshelter.com%2Fimg-get%2FI00007Zg9wdhpGs8%2Fs%2F800%2F700%2F17b-30115.jpg&action=click

Early Euro-Canadian fur traders didn’t shirk from a high fat diet either. I’ve written elsewhere that the people living at the forts preferred meat rich in fat. Mainly because fat is high in calories necessary to deal with Canada’s winters. And from the data I’ve looked at, like the Inuit, early Euro-Canadian traders lived a healthy life.

Butchering a bison. Some parts of the bison were very high in fat content. The hump and rib meat contained large amounts of it. Bone marrow, containing large amounts of fat, was also considered a delicacy in the fur trade. Image courtesy of: http://www.noplainjaneskitchen.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/showing-the-hump-11.jpg

Vitamin C

First Europeans arriving in Canada suffered considerably in the winter from scurvy – caused by Vitamin C deficiency. Inuit foods, especially organ meats, contain high amounts of Vitamin C. The Inuit froze their meat and fish and frequently ate them raw. This practice conserves Vitamin C which is easily lost when cooked. Raw kelp is also high in Vitamin C. Narwhal skin contains more Vitamin C than oranges.

Rose hips, growing on wild roses, are very high in Vitamin C. One-thousand grams of rose hips contain 2000 mg of Vitamin C. In fact they contain fifty-percent more Vitamin C than lemons and oranges and 10 % more than blueberries. In western Canada Vitamin C was growing under the very noses of the early traders. Images courtesy of: https://depositphotos.com/stock-photos/rosehips.html

The inner bark of certain species of pine trees contains Vitamin C. The Adirondack People (meaning tree eaters) of Upper New York State, USA, as well as other Indigenous groups, harvested these barks for sugars, starch, and a rich source of vitamin C.

Food Preservation

Our Canadian cold isn’t always a bad thing. It’s a natural fridge to preserve food. At many fur trade forts, winter was a time when the Companies stocked up on buffalo meat, and then processed it into pemmican in the spring. This First Nations highly nutritious mixture of berries, pounded meat and fat was the mainstay of the western Canadian fur trade brigades.

At the forts the meat was kept in large ‘hangars’ or ice-houses until ready to consume:

“The men had already commenced gathering their supply of fresh meat for the summer in the ice pit. This is made by digging a square hole, capable of containing 700 or 800 buffalo carcasses. As soon as the ice in the river is of sufficient thickness, it is cut into square blocks of uniform size with saws; with these blocks the floor of the pit is regularly paved, and the blocks cemented together by pouring water in between them, and allowing it to freeze solid. In like manner, the walls are solidly built up to the surface of the ground. The head and feet of the buffalo, when killed, are cut off, and the carcasses without being skin, is divided into quarters, and piled in layers in the pit as brought in, until it is filled up, when the whole is covered with a thick coating of straw, which is again protected from the sun and rain by a shed. In this manner the meat keeps perfectly good through the whole summer and eats much better than fresh kill meat, being more tender and better flavoured.” (Painter and author, Paul Kane, while visiting Fort Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, in 1846)

When I came to Canada in the early 1950s, we didn’t have fridges or freezers. Keeping produce and meat from rotting in the summer months was a challenge. We also had a large earth-covered walk-in root cellar to preserve our food. It was kept just above freezing in winter, and cool in the summer. Canning, smoking, drying, salting, and sausage making also helped solve some of our preservation problems. And the freezing winter months solved the rest.

And ironically guess what was invented to preserve food in the summer? Frozen packaged food of course. Ever wonder where that idea came from? Well, it just so happens the idea originated in Canada.

Clarence Birdseye, an American worked alongside the Inuit in Newfoundland, Canada, as a fur trapper. He noticed that fish caught by the Inuit fishermen froze almost immediately when pulled the water in the sub-zero winter conditions. Birdseye noted that the fish retained its flavor and texture, even when it was defrosted months later.

In 1920 Birdseye started experimenting with frozen peas. He first blanched freshly picked peas and then fast-froze them preserving their color, texture and flavor. In 1929 Birdseye introduced his ‘fast freezing’ techniques to the American consumer and the frozen food industry was born.

But, we sometimes forget who the original inventors of fast-frozen food were. The Inuit People of Canada. An idea which was modified to meet the challenges of food preservation in warmer climates in the twentieth century.

Shelter

Snow and ground are great insulators. Why not use them as building materials to protect us from our severe winters?

In certain parts of the Canadian Arctic, Inuit People made igloos entirely of snow and ice. It’s considered one of the most elegant and ingeniously built dwellings in the world.

Constructing an igloo out of blocks of snow which had to be a certain consistency and hardness to work. Both body temperature and small lamps could heat the inside of igloos up to nearly 20C. Image courtesy of: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/78/15/61/7815618d7ec9f7fe6a883db936c72aed.jpg

In one of my university boreal ecology classes, we shoveled snow into a large mound and then hollowed out the inside. Even with a candle, or only our body heat, we could get the inside of that structure above freezing. If you’re ever caught in the freezing cold, this simple shelter could save your life.

Interior British Columbia First Nations People constructed semi-subterranean houses to deal with the cold. The pit dug into the ground made up the walls while the roof, constructed from poles and covered with sod, was above ground.

A traditional Secwepemc pit house from south-central British Columbia. Most pit houses were eight to ten metres in diameter and 1.5 metres ) deep.
People went in and out via a notched pole ladder extending through the smoke hole in the roof. Image courtesy of: http://www.skeetchestn.ca/files/images/History/Pit-House.jpg

Many first Ukrainians immigrating to Canada constructed simple semi-subterranean houses before building more elaborate above-ground dwellings. These pit houses, or burdeis, while simple enough probably saved them during their first Canadian winters.

According to Mike Parker: “The Burdei, a sod house style structure, is a temporary shelter for early Ukrainian settlers. Despite its simplicity, it is one of the most memorable structures at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village near Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.” Image courtesy of: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/64668944638438534/

Why we haven’t adapted our construction techniques to take advantage of these natural materials, is beyond me. Instead we build everything above ground and allow -40C wind chills to blow on our dwellings, expecting to keep warm. Even tipis were banked with snow to better insulate them and keep everyone inside from freezing in the winter.

Subterranean houses are both warm in the winter and cool in the summer, requiring way less energy. And you don’t have to live like a gopher. The houses I have seen are at ground level with mounds of dirt on top and the sides. The downside of this kind of dwelling: It needs to be built stronger to support the heavy loading on the roof. And it needs a good ventilation system to remove the humidity, because it is essentially air tight. All these construction methods and technologies are now available. Photograph courtesy of: https://thearchitecturedesigns.com/unique-underground-homes-designs-you-must-see/

Clothing

Parkas

Many prehistorians believe that without intricate sewing methods to make windproof and waterproof clothing northern Indigenous People might never have inhabited the interior Canadian Arctic where winter temperatures are often deadly. The modern Canadian parka is a derivative of Inuit parkas made from caribou skin to keep out cold and moisture.

From left to right: Woman’s sealskin parka, dated 1475 (Courtesy of: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parka#/media/File:Qilakitsoq_woman’s_parka_sealskin_1978.jpg); Inuit woman with a Amautik which holds the baby against the mother’s back inside the pouch with oversized hoods that are large enough to cover both mother and child (Courtesy of: http://babybaby-baby-baby.blogspot.com/2010/10/amautik-amazing.html); Modern Canada Goose Parka. Only £799.00. (Courtesy of: https://www.triads.co.uk/triads-mens-c1/outerwear-c30/coats-c209/canada-goose-expedition-parka-red-p65711

Inuit People deal with some of the harshest, deadliest climates on the face of the earth. But, it wasn’t just the cold in the winter that could harm you. The sun’s glare off the bright snow was also harmful. Snow goggles, to prevent snow blindness likely originated in Siberia and the Canadian Arctic.

Left: Inuit man wearing snow goggles carved out of caribou antler. Image courtesy of: https://canadianinnovationspace.ca/snow-goggles/. Right: Modern snow goggles perform the same function of cutting down the brilliant glare from snow in the winter.

Wool Blankets Become Capotes and Jackets

The wool blanket soon became an important trade article for northern Indigenous People of Canada. But the blanket was was often repurposed into many articles by both Indigenous People and French Canadian Voyageurs.

The first point blankets were created by French weavers who developed a “point system” — a way to specify the finished size of a blanket — sometime in the 17th century. (See also Weaving.) The term “point,” in this case, originates from the French word empointer, which means “to make threaded stitches on cloth.” The points were simply a series of thin black lines on one of the corners of the blanket, which were used to identify the size of the blanket.

One article of clothing perhaps above all others, the wool capote, or blanket coat, was specifically made to deal with the harsh Canadian winters. It was warm and light. If it got wet it was easy to dry. It was soon modified into various types of coats according to the needs and tastes of those wearing it.

French Canadian Habitants and voyageurs, First Nations and Metis People wore wool capotes. Design and color were based mostly on personal needs or common shared values. Northern hunters liked the mostly white colors for camouflage in the winter. It became an article of fashion, being easily modified according to the tastes of the people. My wife and I own hooded capotes which were sewn for us using an original fur trade design. Left: Cree elk hunter by Arthur Henning; Center: Chipewyan hunter, Wood Buffalo by Frederick Remington; Right: Dog driver dressed for winter travel with capote and snowshoes.

“The Metis man’s winter attire was the capote; a thigh length coat with full length sleeves which could come with or without a hood or cape. Most had small shoulder decorations made of red stroud. To get the coat closed were both thongs and buttons or a sash.”
Lawrence J. Barkwell

What started simply as a wool blanket coat for winter use continued to transition. Through fashion the blanket coat or Mackinaw established itself with our Canadian identity in a number of ways. The British military used them during the war of 1812, shortening them from the traditional blanket coats. Unable to find enough blue blankets, the commanding officer had the coats made of tartan designed wool blankets. Today’s tartan Mackinaw jackets are a derivative of those early army coats.

Different styles of capotes worn by Metis People. Some were elaborately stitched and fringed or turned into buttoned double breasted jackets

Left: My wife’s woolen capote made in 1974 from an original design. Center: A men’s Hudson’s Bay blanket coat, or Mackinaw, 1965. Right: The Canadian winter Olympic team, 1968, Grenoble, France, wearing blanket coats in opening ceremonies. Canadian Olympic teams also wore the blanket coat in 1936, 1960 and 1964. A distinctly Canadian winter garment that endures the test of time.

Transportation

Given our severe winter weather our ability to get around is hampered considerably. Here are a few things we did about it.

Snowshoes

The origin and age of snowshoes is not precisely known. Archaeologists currently believe they were invented between 4,000 to 6,000 years ago somewhere in central Asia. However, these first snowshoes were made of wood or leather blocks or planks. Indigenous People in Canada invented the lighter webbed snowshoe. There are many designs depending on region and type of snow cover.

Snowshoes also became important in the Canadian fur trade. Women living at the forts netted the snowshoes using specially made bone needles.

Snowshoe netting needles, similar to this one found in Maine, USA, have been recovered from Canadian fur trade sites. The needle was used to knit the rawhide mesh onto the snowshoe frame. Image courtesy of the Peabody Museum: https://collections.peabody.harvard.edu/objects/details/12855

From Sleds and Toboggans to Snowmobiles

In a previous post I talked about the long history of sledding in Canada and the strong dog sledding tradition which originated among northern Inuit People. Because of our strong sledding traditions and winters, it’s not surprising then that the first snowmobiles were built in Canada. In 1935 Joseph Bombardier assembled and successfully tested the first snowmobile. The first model had a sprocket wheel and a track drive system, steered by skis.

Bombardier B-12 snowmobile. Image courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrWnaNE5u5hcGAARQYXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=images+of+bombardier+snowmobile&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001#id=5&iurl=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-UFcJTF4PwJk%2FTgF2Z27QnxI%2FAAAAAAABmyI%2FUMfVKUW1N38%2Fw1200-h630-p-nu%2F4373984169_b03a0e9ef8_o.jpg&action=click

I recall one of the first Ski-Doos in Cabri, Saskatchewan around the mid- to late 1960s, owned by my friend David Culham. We had great fun on those first sleds. Ski-Doo Bombardier, 1965. Image courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrWnaNE5u5hcGAARQYXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=images+of+bombardier+snowmobile&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001#id=21&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2Fkixz_0C8oJg%2Fmaxresdefault.jpg&action=click

Snowblower

In 1925, in Montreal, Canada, Arthur Sicard constructed the first self-propelled rotary snow blower, based on the concept of farm grain threshers.

A Sicard rotary snow blower. Image courtesy of: http://www.barraclou.com/truck/sicard/sicard_snowblower.jpg

Today’s walk-behind snowblowers are capable of handling large amounts of snow and throwing it considerable distances. Photograph courtesy of: https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrUimR06e5h_1gAjwQXFwx.;_ylu=Y29sbwNncTEEcG9zAzIEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Nj?p=origns+of+the+snowblower&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-trp-001#id=14&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fedenapp.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2020%2F10%2FOG-snowheader_lifestyleheader.jpg&action=click

The Future

As our Canadian climate continually challenges us, people experiment with new methods and technologies to either cope better with winter, or take advantage of what it gives us.

I recently read about a joint research project between McMaster University and UCLA. Researchers are developing a method to harness electricity from falling snow. According to an article by Mark Wilson: “Researchers at UCLA have developed a first-of-its-kind breakthrough by building a small silicone sensor-generator that can harvest electricity directly from snow–dubbed a “snow-based triboelectric nanogenerator” or “Snow TENG.” It could lead to a new wave of wearable electronics, more efficient solar panels, and even entire buildings that can produce energy during winter weather with a simple coat of paint.” (Courtesy of: https://www.fastcompany.com/90339438/winter-is-coming-but-good-news-we-can-now-harvest-energy-from-snow)

Essentially researchers constructed a thin sheet of silicone: “The thin device works by harnessing static electricity. Positively-charged falling snow collides with the negatively-charged silicone device, which produces a charge that’s captured by an electrode.”

Well, the snow is falling anyway, so we might as well take advantage of it. For some odd reason, snow carries a positive electric charge. However, as Wilson further elaborates in his article, the ingenious part of this technology is its application. If you attach a piece of this silicone to the bottom of your winter boot and it comes in contact with snow it produces electricity.

I’m not sure where this nanotechnology will go but what about putting a layer on winter automobile tires. Is that possible? Researchers are already experimenting with tires that make electricity caused by the friction between the tire and the road surface. Why not snow?

Hygge – What?

Everyone’s occasionally felt it in the dark, cold winter. Feeling a little mentally low. When you’re stuck inside. And it’s freezing cold outside.

The Danes have tried to replace this feeling with one of well-being in the winter instead. They call it Hygge.

According to one article, Hygge isn’t a word—it’s a feeling. According to The Hope Chest: “It’s that feeling you get when you come inside after a long, cold, windy day and see a beautiful dinner, and the whole house smells like frikadeller. It is the warmth of a fireside glow at the coffee shop, or a warmhearted conversation with a friend. It is woolen slippers and a plush blanket curled up with a book, or a quaint dinner party with your closest friends. Hygge is anything that makes you feel comfortable and content.” (Courtesy of: https://danishhomeofchicago.org/the-hope-chest/2019/01/07/top-ten-scandinavian-inventions/)

Well, I’ve searched for my own Canadian version of Hygge. I think I’ve found it. On a cold, dark, January Canadian winter evening I like to have a few of these below to deal with our weather. Who knows, maybe it will even catch on. Easy on the ice though….

Posted on January 13, 2022June 28, 2025
Just Grinding (No More Pecking) Away: Stone Maul Progress(?) Report (Three)

Many of you might be wondering, after reading my previous two posts about my stone maul project, why I haven’t written a follow-up post since last May. I have lots of excuses to avoid grooving that quartzite maul. Pain is high on the list. Skinning my fingers, breaking finger nails, arthritis and inflamed joints, and generally getting stone dust all over myself, immediately come to mind. And then of course there’s the reno from hell happening at my home.

Enough said. Perhaps it’s time for an update. I continued grinding away on my maul for about two more hours for the rest of May. I used a quartzite burin-like flake again because it worked better than anything I tried so far. However, I added wet sand to the groove for these two hours of work. I could feel the grinding flake catching and abrading the maul channel much better than before. Below is what the maul looked like after those two hours (now six hours in total).

My stone maul after about six hours of work. I was hoping maybe the inside of the maul was softer than the cortex (the outer oxidized surface of the rock). Not true say my knowers of stone. The inside is just as hard, as I’m finding out.

The groove is about 9cm long and 1.0cm – 2.0cm wide, and about 1mm – 2mm deep. The area on either side of the groove is becoming polished. Probably from my fingers continually rubbing against it.

I’m having a hard time keeping the groove straight. Once a straight groove line is established, it’s easy to keep this line when working near the middle. But at the end of the groove is where the battle to keep it straight is being waged. I’m worried that if I stray too much the groove on either end of the maul won’t join up when I reach the other side of the maul (if I ever get that far). So I penciled a line on the maul to help keep me on track.

I also noticed that no matter which direction I grind the groove, by occasionally reversing the maul in my hand (wrongly thinking the other end might be softer), one wall of the groove is ridging while the other shows more rounding or angling. I can’t currently explain why this is happening. If I was only pushing one way or not reversing the maul, then either the angle of the flake or the angle I am holding the flake and grooving might explain this difference.

Sketch of cross-section of the maul surface with the groove. One side is relatively straight. The other side is more angled/curved to the surface which is also a little lower than the other side of the groove. Occasionally I find myself holding the grinding flake at an angle, instead of straight up and down. But because I turn the maul often this angling should affect both walls of the groove the same?

A Little More Background on Making Ground Stone Tools

There are few historical or ethnographic descriptions of people making groundstone tools of any kind. Karen Giering, Royal Alberta Museum, sent me this interesting article, on ground stone axe manufacture by the Héta (meaning All of Us) Indians of Brazil, written by Vladimir Kozak in 1960 (published in 1972 in the Journal of the American Museum of Natural History). The Héta are now extinct and Kozak was almost too late to record this practice. The Héta had already replaced their stone axes with steel axes. His is one of the few articles describing the manufacture of a stone axe in the Americas. Some of the processes involved apply to my ground stone maul.

Héta man and woman wearing the sipál neck adornment of their tribe. Photograph courtesy of: https://acateamazon.org/forgotten-tribes/forgotten-tribes-amazon-heta-brazil/

Kozak describes the stone axe: “The blade was nearly oval in cross section, and the bit was sharpened to a keen edge. The butt was buried deep within the thick upper part of the wooden handle, which was about two to three feet long. In the hands of one skilled in its use, the stone ax was, as I came to see, an effective tool.”

Although he had trouble convincing the Héta to make a stone axe for him (why do this when they already had steel axes), Kozak finally succeeded. Here are some highlights when Kozak observed the Héta men making an axe:

Careful selection of the stone for the axe head: “A stone should be of the proper size and have the approximate shape of the finished ax, that is, an elongated ovoid. By beginning with a stone of this shape, much less abrading is required, thus saving the ax maker many hours of work. Beside being the right size and shape, the stone must be tough enough to withstand the many blows it will have to deliver.” Unfortunately Kozak doesn’t mention what kind of stone the Héta men selected.

The hammerstone used for pecking the axe to shape it should be harder than the stone axe head. Nor does he mention the kind of stone selected for pecking.

Pecking and Shaping: “He spread his knees, brought the soles of his feet close together, and placed the ovoid stone between them. Then, taking the hammerstone in his hand, he began to peck. He pecked at the surface of the stone with light, carefully directed blows. No chips or flakes came off during the pecking, only fine granules. Little by little, the hard, water-polished cortex of the stone was completely removed, and the cobble was lightly pitted over its entire surface. Stone dust soon covered his hands and feet and accumulated on the mat beneath him.”

The pecking and shaping process took several days (number of hours are not mentioned). It was time-consuming, exhausting and required precision. One wrong whack could ruin the axe. As the author notes: “The work seemed endless to me, and I was beginning to see why Eirakan and the others had thought my request senseless.” I can sympathize.

Grinding and Polishing: Once pecking was completed, the men ground and polished the axe blade to sharpen it: “A large sandstone cobble was brought in for the purpose, along with some white clay, which Nango put into a water- filled container made from a folded palm spathe. He then took the ax head, dipped it into the container, held what was to be the cutting edge firmly against the sandstone with his hands, and began rubbing. He ground one side of the ax, turned it over, ground the other side, went back to the first side, and so on.” This step took an entire afternoon with Nango exerting considerable pressure on the grinding stone to sharpen the axe.

The axe blade is dipped in a wet clay solution and ground against a piece of sandstone held securely by the feet. The man uses both hands to apply downward pressure. The sandstone shapes the blade and the clay solution polishes it. Although Kozak doesn’t mention it, I’m assuming the polishing is meant to reduce the amount of friction when cutting. Also noteworthy, the grinding and pecking steps are not separate, but done together. Photograph courtesy of: https://acateamazon.org/forgotten-tribes/forgotten-tribes-amazon-heta-brazil/

Kozak states: “Under favorable conditions, the Héta could make a stone ax in three to five days, with another half-day for hafting.”

The completed stone axe, hafted and ready to perform multiple tasks. Photograph courtesy of: https://acateamazon.org/forgotten-tribes/forgotten-tribes-amazon-heta-brazil/

The Héta used stone axes for felling trees, cracking nuts, chipping and breaking bones, grinding and hammering. They sharpened the end of the handle to drive into rotten trees to extract insect larvae or to dig out honey: “Pounded into the ground with a heavy stone, it made holes for shelter poles. It functioned as a digging stick and was used to excavate pit traps. And occasionally, when wielded as a club, the stone ax could be a dangerous weapon.” In short, the axe was an important multi-functional tool for the Héta.

The stone axe set in a wood handle with a sharpened end. The sharpened wood handle is used here to extract honey from a beehive. (Photograph courtesy of American Museum of Natural History, Vol. LXXXI, No.8, 1972)

Unlike the Australian Yir Yoront’s stone axes, there didn’t seem to be a ripple effect through the rest of Héta culture when they abandoned the stone axe in favor of the steel axe (for the Yir Yoront story go to this link: https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2016&action=edit). But then Kozak wasn’t there to record all the details before and after the transition took place.

Controversy continues regarding the eventual adoption of metal tools by Indigenous Peoples around the world. Superior effectiveness and efficiency of metal versus stone tools top the list. Robert Carneiro has done a lot of work among Amazonian groups, including the Amahuaca Indians of Eastern Peru. He found it took seven-eight times longer to clear a patch for planting in the rain forest with a stone opposed to a steel axe. Others found there is only a slight difference in stone opposed to metal axe efficiency (a 1.4:1 ratio). I made a crude bifacially flaked stone hand axe to cut down a 10cm diameter tree. It took much longer than with a steel axe. Even if hafted with a more refined, thinner, sharper edge, the stone axe still would not have been as effective a cutting tool as a metal axe.

And then there’s the labour involved making stone axes or mauls. That too might have been a factor for choosing metal axes. I’m finding that out the hard way.

Back to the Grind

Recently, I worked on my maul for another four hours. At first, I tried to change grinding tactics. Instead of pushing a stone flake across the maul to cut the channel, I decided to take a page from the Héta. The Héta men used their feet to hold the sandstone abrader, essentially the reverse of what I was doing. They took the stone axe and ground it against the sandstone grinding stone. I held my maul between my knees and ground the flake against it. Why not reverse this process so I could apply more force when grinding?

I couldn’t use my feet to hold the grinding flake (besides being impractical, this position would have put me in bed for days), I put the stone grinding flake in a vice and then rubbed the stone maul against it; hopefully to create much more force and pressure. I’m quite certain there were no metal vices in Canadian prehistory, but there probably were vice-like devices for holding the abrader (flake or grinding stone) in place while rubbing the maul stone over it.

So, I tried it. It didn’t work. Well, at least not yet. Because my maul’s groove channel was so thin and shallow, I had trouble determining if I was in the groove while holding the maul upside down to grind it on the flake held by the vice. I tried a few times and finally gave up and went back to holding the flake to grind the maul held firmly between my knees. However, once the channel becomes deeper and wider, I’ll try this method again. This method should create a lot more downward grinding force and speed up the process. It can’t get much slower than it is now.

After Eight Hours of Work

Quartzite maul after eight hours of grinding.

After two more hours of grinding, and a total of eight hours of work, here are a few facts and things I learned.

I didn’t use sand in the groove as before. This likely would have gotten me tossed out of the house. It was too cold to work outside;

The length of the groove has not substantially changed (still about 9cm long);

The groove channel is now about 3mm wide;

The groove channel is about 1.5 – 2.0mm deep;

The edges of the grinding flake become smooth and highly polished after a certain amount of use. Once that happens the grinding flake is no longer effective. It just slides along the surface, not gripping it. At this point I either select a new flake or retouch the flake’s grinding edge by whacking it on the maul. Once retouched I can feel the flake grab in the maul groove again. Over a one-hour session, I retouched the flake 6 – 8 times;

Instead of using my feet to hold the maul in place while grinding it, I use both my knees and one hand to hold it firmly (holding it with my feet is out of the question). It’s hard to apply any force on it if it’s continually wobbling. Perhaps it would be more efficient to make a vice-like mechanism to hold the maul more firmly while applying pressure on the flake with both hands;

I also used flakes with broader edges and angles to widen the groove channel. I’m using two different sizes of flakes to accomplish my objective: A larger flake to broaden the groove and a thin, narrow flake to deepen it. Eventually, I want to create a 1cm – 1.5cm wide groove whose maximum depth is about 4mm – 5mm.

The shape and angularity of the grinding flake matters if you want to protect your fingers when applying a considerable grinding force. If sharp edges or pieces are jutting out anywhere you grab the flake, it will eventually hurt you.

After Ten Hours of Work

Quartzite maul after ten hours of grinding.

After ten hours of work, I feel slightly more encouraged, no longer thinking this project is hopeless. I seem to be working harder, too, as I can see actual progress being made. ‘Mind over matter’….If only that were true.

I’m also becoming a little possessive of the damned thing. As I labour away, I think about how devastating it would be if the maul broke or got lost. After all that work!

As I’m working, I also think back on the Australian Yir Yoront stone axes. The Yir Yoront traded for their stone axes, and the men then controlled who used them. Was this control an act of exerting power and authority over others (as the author suggests)? Or was this possessiveness related to the axes value – the amount of labour (through trade) it took to acquire the axe, which was not easily replaced?

A few more facts after 10 hours of work:

The groove channel is 6mm wide in some places. I aim to make it about 1.5cm wide;

In some places, the groove channel is now 3mm deep;

I’m using a wider and larger flake edge, which is beginning to grind away at the walls of the groove. The idea is to constantly increase the flake size as the groove gets deeper, to widen it.

Cross-section of cobble and grinding flake. The flake is wider than the bottom of the groove. When forced down the flake begins to abrade the sides of the groove, widening it.

I’ve also taken photographs of the flakes I used to grind the maul. I don’t see much edge retouch or any striations with the naked eye. But I do see the edges of the flake ground down and smoothed; and in some areas highly polished. There’s a whole raft of literature on stone tool microwear patterns made when using stone tools for cutting, grinding, and pounding different materials. Currently, I’m unaware if anyone has ever identified wear patterns from making ground stone tools. If the methods I’m describing to make this maul are similar to those made prehistorically, then we should see similar types of evidence in the archaeological record.

So, I’ll just describe what I saw under a magnifying glass. On one grinding flake, there’s a high degree of polish on the primary working surface – in this case, the narrow tip of the flake. There is some polish along the sides of the flake as well, but not nearly as intense as on the tip. At this level of magnification, I don’t see any other marks/striations on the flake working edge. I would need a low-power microscope to see those, if they exist.

The highly polished flake edge surface after grinding the maul groove in photographs A and B. A rejuvenation flake was removed from the polished surface of the grinding flake in photograph C. The grinding flake is now ready for more work.

I also managed to find the rejuvenation flake I knocked off while trying to retouch the edge on my grinding flake. This one is about 10mm by 7mm. The working edge of the rejuvenation flake (where it rubbed against the maul groove) is highly polished. It has some diagnostic flake attributes (striking platform, bulb of percussion, fissures, etc.). But, you would be hard-pressed to identify it as a flake with the naked eye.

The polished grinding edge of the rejuvenation flake was removed by striking it on the maul. Even though it’s small, the flake shows most of the attributes of a typical percussion flake (a striking platform and a bulb of percussion). However, unlike other flakes, it shows the highly polished grinding platform left over from grinding the maul groove. Unless you are looking closely, it would be easy to miss this type of evidence. In fact, with most of our screening methods, this flake, or anything smaller, might not even make it back to the laboratory.

And, once again, to remind all of you who are unfamiliar with quartzite, why my task is taking so long. Check out the image below. I tried knocking off some flakes from a frozen quartzite cobble with my hammer. Broke the hammer.

After attempting to smack off a few quartzite flakes from a cobblestone to use to grind my stone maul, and breaking my hammer, I had to take a much heavier stone quartzite hammerstone to eventually remove these flakes from the core. This cast-iron hammer didn’t have a chance. Quartzite is extremely hard. Right up there with steel. And harder than jade.

A Few Closing Thoughts

Below is a composite photograph showing my progress in grinding the maul for ten hours. I almost quit at hour four. It’s plain to see why.

As you can see, ten hours of grinding has produced a significant groove in the quartzite cobble (well, at least to my eyes). But I’m far from even finishing one side of the cobble. At this rate, it will take at least forty hours, or longer, of grinding to complete just one side.

In summary, there are only so many ways to speed up this process:

Increase the downward force exerted when grinding the groove. I could accomplish this by putting either the grinding flake or the maul in a vice and using both hands to push down harder while grinding;

Increase the grinding surface area of the flake. By using flakes that have a greater contact length with the grinding surface. This might work even better if I could also apply more force as well;

Speed up the number of grinding repetitions per minute. Not practical. I’d have to pump some weights and be forty years younger to do that.

I’ll write my next maul progress report after I have completed twenty hours of work. As the maul groove gets wider, I may also have some new insights on the grinding process to share with you.

Posted on May 18, 2021June 26, 2025
My Stone Maul. Just Grinding and Pecking Away: Progress(?) Report Number Two

I picked up this ground-stone granite maul on the Canadian prairies many years ago. I decided to try and make one like it. Hopefully by making one I would understand better the methods Indigenous peoples used, and also the amount of work involved.

In a previous post (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2853&action=edit) I discussed Indigenous ground-stone technology on the Canadian prairies. I decided that because we knew so little on how some objects, such as grooved stone mauls, were made I would try to make one. This method of inquiry is known as ‘Experimental Archaeology’ – a sub-field of archaeology intended to gain insight into prehistoric methods people used by replicating them. These are a few of my thoughts after a little over a week of working on this project. As usual, whenever I take on projects like this there are some real eye-openers. So far, I haven’t been disappointed.

I managed to get in about four hours of work on the quartzite cobble I chose to make my ground-stone maul. Below is a photograph showing my progress pecking and grinding the stone maul. Most of you, after looking closely at this photograph, will probably think: ‘What progress? I don’t see any.’

My quartzite cobble that I chose to make a ground-stone maul, after about four hours of work. As is quite evident, there are some scratches on the cortex (the outer oxidized layer of the cobble) and ever-so slight grooving.

Well, let me explain. Perhaps another photograph will help. If you look at the cobble closely, at just the right angle, with just the right light, you can see a slight indentation on the cortex (the outer oxidized layer on the rock). You can actually feel it better than see it.

A closer view of my attempt to start a groove on the maul after about four hours of work. In places I may have broken through the cortex. But barely. I’m also finding it hard to aim the stone grooving tool and keep it straight. It kind of wants to wander everywhere. Once I have established a groove, it should become easier to direct my aim.

In short, it’s going to take a little longer than the eight hours someone estimated it took to make a granite grooved maul. At this rate with the methods I’m using, you might add one or two zeros to the number eight. I’ll explain my methods, and the tools I’m using to make the maul, to give you a better understanding WHY it’s taking me so long to make any progress.

Pecking? Forget It

First I thought I would try to peck the groove using a small quartzite pebble having the same hardness as the maul. That didn’t work worth a damn. Not only was the impact area of the pecking stone too round, it wore down faster than the cobble I was pecking. And, after forty-five minutes of banging away I was getting nowhere, fast. At first the surface of the cobble looked good with all the stone flour on it. Then I realized that the flour was coming off my pecking stone and not the cobble.

This method was a waste of time. At least for me. It might work better to form basalt hand-mauls, but is difficult to make an initial groove in the quartzite cobble this way. Also, the hammerstone I used was too large with too blunt an end to be accurate. And, while there was a lot of stone flour on the quartzite cobble, it was mostly from the hammerstone.

The end of the hammerstone I used to peck on the quartzite cobble, after about forty-five minutes. It was getting me nowhere. Quite a bit of wear on the hammerstone though.

Sawing and Grinding

Next, I found a small coarse-grained sandstone flake. I used a sawing motion across about two centimetres of the flake edge to grind a groove on the cobble. This method worked much better than pecking. After one hour, I thought I saw some of the natural pockmarks on the cobble surface begin to smooth out. But, there was no point measuring my progress. I don’t think they make instruments capable of measuring that small a depth. I was averaging about 150 – 155 strokes per minute using this sawing technique. Or, with one hour’s work, 9,000 – 9,300 strokes. My fingers cramped pretty badly after only one hour’s work.

I started grinding the cobble with this orthoquartzite or hard sandstone flake. I used the entire thin edge length of the flake to grind away on the cobble surface. This method worked moderately well, but after about one hour, the flake no longer had an effective edge and will have to be replaced or resharpened.

Continued Search for Just the Right Tool

The coarse-grained sandstone flake worked well enough. But was there something better? At this stage of the project, I’m still experimenting with various methods. Next, I fashioned a few more quartzite flakes. But this time I looked for flakes having burin-like tip (a type of handheld lithic flake with a chisel-like edge which prehistoric humans used for cutting wood or bone), or graver tips (lithic tool with a slightly more pointed tip than a burin), so that I could better gouge the surface of the maul.

This close-up view of a lithic burin tool used for cutting wood, bone and antler, also seems to work for grooving the quartzite cobble. From: https://www.quora.com/What-is-a-burin-used-for

In this photograph, I’m using a burin-like quartzite flake tool and pushing it forward on the quartzite cobble. I’m slowly but surely removing microscopic bits of quartzite to form the groove for the maul. At first, I just hand-held the flake. But after a while, it was doing more damage to my fingers than to the cobble. So, I wrapped it in a paper towel to prevent blisters (a real authentic touch). After about two hours of using this tool, the tip got dull. I retouched the edges of the flake to resharpen it. It should still work until at some point it becomes too small to effectively hold. I am also thinking of using a heavier, larger flake to apply more pressure on the edge. It might also be easier to hold.

If I held the flake at just the right angle (about 20 – 30 degrees) and pushed real hard, I felt I was scouring the cobble better than with the other two methods. However, if the flake point is held to low, not much scouring happened. If I held the flake too high, I couldn’t push it very well, or accurately. Blisters were starting to appear on my fingers, so I wrapped the flake in a paper towel. A piece of leather would do quite nicely as well. Occasionally I found my fore-finger scraping across the cobble as I pushed the flake.

Closeup of the tip of the quartzite flake, showing the wear from grinding on the stone maul. Also, the wear on my fingers holding the flake to grind the maul.

I’m working with rocks, which are good conductors of heat. I’m causing a lot of friction and heat when using the sawing methods. Perhaps dunking the flake tool in water, or adding water to maul surface, would prevent heat build-up.

A Few Closing Observations

It’s pretty obvious already that this project is going to take a long, long time to make. Unless I figure out a better method of incising my cobble. So far, both the sandstone saw and graving/gouging with considerable force on the flake work the best.

Patience is a key here. We live in a society of instant results and gratification. This project would be something you worked on all winter when there was less other work to do. Like knitting sweaters or large rugs, which took many hours to fashion. I also find that grinding away is a lot like distance running. Eventually, through repeated strokes which take little thinking, it puts your mind in a different place, relaxing it. We could all use a bit more of that in our present-day society.

Given the amount of work that I expect to put into making this tool (if I ever do), I would highly value it. In archaeology we call this curation. People would have valued these mauls because of the effort involved making them. If people were not carrying their mauls from one camp to another, then they would have carefully cached them for safety. Or there was some sort of agreement among families using the same camp, to leave the mauls after use. In a previous post (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2016&action=edit), on stone axes in Australia, I noted how highly prized they were among the Australian aborigines. Similar processes might have been operating here in the Americas with these mauls.

Indigenous people on the West Coast of Canada used more ground-stone technology to fashion stone tools than people on the prairies. The major reason may be related to access to more relatively softer (than quartzite) types of stone, such as basalt, for fashioning ground stone tools. I’m making my ground stone maul out of quartzite, the hardest and most common material available on the prairies. If I had a choice, knowing what I already know about this process, quartzite would not have been my first choice. Yet, most ground-stone mauls on the prairies are made from quartzite. The trade-off, however, is that a quartzite maul would not break as easily as mauls made of softer types of rocks.

These rather ornate hammerstones and grooved mauls are from the North West Coast of Canada. They are made mostly of basalt which is slightly easier to work than my quartzite cobble. However, even so, it would have taken a considerable amount of effort and ingenuity to fashion them. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)

I just finished reading an article on how First Nations peoples in British Columbia, Canada, made nephrite adzes. Nephrite, on the Mohs hardness scale, is between 6 – 6.5. This material is slightly less hard than my wonder cobble, but still not that easy to carve. According to author, Hilary Stewart, people sawed nephrite boulders using a sandstone saw, with sand and water added for greater abrasion.

This series of sketches shows how archaeologists think nephrite boulders were cut into thin slabs which were then edged to make the highly prized nephrite adzes. As a sedimentary stone, sandstone has a hardness between 6 and 7. But the quartz fragments that it is composed of have a hardness of 7. So, as a saw this material would work well to cut/grind the hard quartzite. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)

Maybe I’ll use a larger piece of sandstone next, and add a sand/water compound for more grit. And, a saw makes more sense since there is a greater surface area working to groove my cobble. With the flake burin I could only use a forward motion. Thus, a sawing tool having a greater edge area and back and forth motion should be much more efficient than a tiny tip of stone being pushed in only one direction. However, having said that, often what we think works best, doesn’t always materialize into reality. That’s why experimenting with these techniques is so important.

But, what kind of edge should the stone saw have to be most effective?

In this series of diagrams a piece of nephrite is cut using a sandstone saw. Note the upper three diagrams. Before use the saw blade edge is a V-shape. Then after grinding/cutting the nephrite, it becomes rounded from use, probably making it less effective to cut a thin groove, but still useful to form a wider groove in the rock, which is necessary for my grooved stone maul. Perhaps this is a natural, necessary progression. We start with a thin, deep groove when the sandstone edge is thin, then as it gets rounder it widens the groove. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)

Stay tuned. I’ll check in again after reaching another sort of milestone with my project. However, I’m going to rethink what type of grinding tool to use and what it should be made out of. That’s what happens when, after four hours of hard work, you can barely see any progress. Suddenly creativity sets in.

Posted on May 3, 2021October 3, 2023
Just Grinding And Pecking Away: A Closer Look At Ground Stone Tool Technology (Part One)

A grooved stone maul. A prehistoric object, found on many continents, made by grinding or pecking the groove to attach a handle. An incredibly labor-intensive activity taking many hours to complete.

In Alberta, stone mauls were used for thousands of years. One maul was found in an archaeological site dating over 10,000 years in Alberta (Fedyniak and Giering, 2016). Unfortunately very few mauls are found in an archaeological context, allowing accurate dating. There is currently no known change in their shape and/or size through time. And, these mauls mainly occur on the southern prairies and not further north.

In the mid-1970s, while out hunting in southern Saskatchewan, I picked up this grooved stone maul in a cultivated field near the edge of a slough. The maul is made from a coarse granitic stone. This one is about 11cm high and 10cm wide. It weighs 1.3kg (2.8lbs). The groove goes almost all the way around the maul, but gets shallower on one side. The groove is about 15mm wide and 5mm deep. One side of the maul has been damaged, either through use or when hit by a farm implement.

Considerable chunk missing on one side of the maul. There is a thin, deep cut line at one edge of the fracture. Possibly made by a cultivator blade rolling over the maul, breaking off a piece.

Close-up view showing the grove in the maul that is polished and smoothed and not as rough as the rest of the stone.

At the time my buddies gathered around to see what I’d found. I confidently stated it was a grooved maul. First Nations people made and used them for pounding things.

How could anyone know so much about a seemingly foreign-looking object by just picking it up and looking at it? Good question. There’s nothing really obvious about the maul to give us a clue what it was used for. Is there? Most people would have walked right by it without even noticing it was a tool.

One method to discover the function of an object is to closely examine it. I looked at both the distal and proximal polls. The proximal poll (smaller end) contained small surface indentations and pocking from use. The distal poll showed smoothed areas, possibly from grinding. It was also slightly flattened from use. Likely from pounding or grinding things. More sophisticated methods, such as microscopic use-wear analysis, would reveal even more about how these abrasions were made.

The base of the proximal poll of the grooved maul, showing indentations and pocking from pounding.

The base of the distal poll showing a combination of indentations but also smoothing on some grains, possibly from grinding something.

Another method we use to determine the function of an object are historic references and ethnographic sources. If an object was used in a certain manner historically, then it was also possibly used in the same way thousands of years ago. This is known as ethnographic analogy. It can be dangerous and it’s always best to use multiple lines of evidence before determining the function of an object.

In his journals explorer David Thompson mentioned First Nations women used stone hammers to smash up deadwood from the trees. According to early ethnographers, “The hammers were of two sorts: one quite heavy, almost like a sledge-hammer 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-pins into the ground, to kill disabled animals, or to break up heavy bones for the marrow they contained.” (Grinnell, G. B. 1892. Blackfoot Lodge Tails; The Story of a Prairie People. Scribner, New York.)

This rare photograph of a Northwest Coast Kwakiutl warrior shows a rather larger, fearsome looking stone hand maul near his right arm. Northwest Coast First Nations peoples made a very sophisticated array of ground stone tools. The shapes and varieties of these mauls are considerably different than those used by people on the Canadian prairies. (From Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)

There are other ways to determine the function of an object, which I discuss in later posts. However, first we have to talk about how these mauls were made. Based on ethnographic sources and examination of the stone hammer, the groove was made by patiently pecking, or grinding away at the stone with another preferably harder stone.

The question I often ask myself is why would anyone go through all the trouble to make a stone grooved maul to pound berries, meat and other things, when you can just pick up a suitable rock and use it to pound something, then discard it when you’re finished? You wouldn’t want to carry this object too far. My colleague, Robert Dawe, Royal Alberta Museum tells me that people used the mauls at campsites and left them there when they move. The mobile Kalahari bushmen did the same thing with their heavy metal axes.

There are a few possible reasons for carrying a maul with a hafted handle permanently: 1) warfare and defense; 2) it had sacred or symbolic meaning and was used in ceremonies; and, 3) it created more leverage and force. The American ethnographer George Bird Grinnell described an old Blackfoot man’s attempts to heal a sick child. He instructed two women to sit near the doorway of the tipi facing each other. “Each one held a puk-sah-tchis, [a maul] with which she was to beat in time to the singing” (Grinnell 1892:163) (In (Fedyniak and Giering, 2016).

A hafted grooved stone maul from rawhide and wood. A handle on this stone maul would create more leverage and force. The author of this post said it took about eight hours of pecking and grinding to form the groove on this fine-grained granite rock. From, ‘Sensible Survival’: https://sensiblesurvival.org/2012/04/28/make-a-hafted-stone-axe/

As I mentioned before, making ground stone tools is very labor-intensive. But, I have read few articles on just how much work it takes to make a stone maul. One researcher conducted an experiment to make a mortar from a basalt cobble. Below are some basic results of that research.

In this particular experiment, it took about two hours to peck a cavity about 8cm in diameter, 3cm deep into a basalt cobble. From, Andrea Squitieri and David Eitam, 2016. “An experimental approach to ground stone tool manufacture. Journal of Lithic Studies Vol. 3:553-564.

Pecking the mortar hole from a basalt cobble. From, Andrea Squitieri and David Eitam, 2016. “An experimental approach to ground stone tool manufacture. Journal of Lithic Studies Vol. 3:553-564.

Finishing the mortar by polishing it with water and basalt powder. Andrea Squitieri and David Eitam, 2016. “An experimental approach to ground stone tool manufacture. Journal of Lithic Studies Vol. 3:553-564.

I guess there’s only one way to find out how long it takes to make a grooved stone maul out of quartzite. And that is to make my own grooved stone maul. I’ve nothing but time on my hands during these Covid days. I mean, how hard can this be?

The Experiment

First I went down to my local river to find some suitable rock candidates to make a stone maul. What was I looking for? Having never made one, I wasn’t sure. I checked some of the mauls at the Royal Alberta Museum collections. They come in all shapes and sizes. And they are made from various types of rocks: granite, basalt, sandstone and quartzite. But, according to research at the Royal Alberta Museum, in Alberta, First Nations people used quartzite (67%) most often to make a stone maul (Fedyniak and Giering, 2016). The reasons? Quartzite was the hardest and most abundant rock available.

A sample of stone grooved mauls in the Royal Alberta Museum collections. This photograph is taken from an article by 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.

Looking for suitable rocks to make a stone grooved maul along the south bank of the North Saskatchewan River, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. These rocks along the shore have eroded out of a higher layer of Saskatchewan Sands and Gravels. Although these deposits contain a variety of types of rocks of different sizes, by far the most common is quartzite, a hard metamorphic rock. I looked at thousands of rocks before picking one or two particular specimens.

After searching for some time, the cobble I finally decided on felt the right weight to pound things and was almost round and symmetrically shaped. This cobble was about 12cm high and 11cm wide. Before pecking, it weighed 1.38kg (3.0lbs).

The unmodified quartzite cobble I chose to make my grooved stone maul.

I’ve read some literature about stone tool pecking and grinding. According to most sources the hammer used to peck out the groove should be a harder material than the stone maul material. This is somewhat problematic since quartzite is a 7 on the Mohs hardness scale. Even granite is slightly softer being only around 6.5-6.6 on the Mohs hardness scale. And basalt is only a 6. This then posed the first problem. If prehistoric peoples were pecking and fashioning grooved stone mauls out of quartzite, then what were they using to make them? None of the local rocks in the Edmonton area were harder than quartzite.

And were they just pecking, or incising and grinding the grooves? The smooth finish on the stone maul I found didn’t help answer that question. When I used a magnifying glass I could see the granite granules were crushed and smoothed. Examination of the groove under a low-power microscope might tell me even more.

I chose these two rocks to peck and groove the maul. The one on the left is a granite (1.6lbs or 0.73kgs) and the one on the right is probably a quartzite (0.44lbs or 0.2kgs) (hard to tell with the cortex still on the rock). Only experimentation and time will tell whether these two rocks will work. I’m not that optimistic though.

I have no idea how long this will take. It may take weeks, or perhaps months. I’ll record the amount of time I spend pecking away, whether I peck or grind and how my pecking stones hold up. I’ll keep you posted on my progress, problems, success. We’ll turn this post into experimental archaeology, since there are still relatively few studies on how to make ground stone tools. Especially grooved mauls found on the Canadian prairies.

That’s it for now. Time to get to work….

The Viking Ribstones, near Viking, Alberta, Canada. In a former post (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1776&action=edit) I mentioned these sacred rocks have lines and holes pecked or incised into the stone. The lines depict the ribs of the buffalo. The holes possibly to kill the buffalo. An example of ground stone technology on a massive scale. I marvel at the amount of work that went into making these objects.

Posted on April 21, 2021December 19, 2023
Stone Piles on the Western Plains of Canada

This story is dedicated to the late John H. Brumley (1946 – 2020), an archaeologist, who categorized and researched the many stone medicine wheels on the Northern Great Plains. His efforts have enriched Canadian history.

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/name/john-brumley-obituary?pid=196525915

The northern Great Plains of Canada contain many places where rocks seem to grow out of the ground. At least according to the local farmers who year after year painstakingly picked them off their fields only to find new ones in the spring. Rock piles along roadsides and fields are a common sight in Alberta, Canada. This view is from near the Rumsey medicine wheel with the Hand Hills on the far distant horizon.

When I was a little kid, I would walk with my dad and pick rocks off the fields in southwestern Saskatchewan. We would toss them onto the stone boat and then dump them on a large pile along the edge of the field. These rock piles are still a common sight when driving along the country roads on the western Canadian prairies.

But, other piles of rocks on the northern Great Plains of Canada, particularly in Alberta, are not the product of seemingly endless rock picking. These are referred to as ‘medicine wheels‘. Or, “atsot-akeeh” (from all sides) by the Blackfoot.

The term ‘medicine wheel’ originated from the Bighorn medicine wheel, located on top of Medicine Mountain, near Lovell, Wyoming. Today it refers to numerous stone alignments with a central hub, spokes and circles found on the Northern Great Plains of North America. Image from: https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/bighorn-medicine-wheel.

Various types and configurations of medicine wheels. A medicine wheel is made mostly from unmodified natural stone and must have a combination of at least two of the following primary components: 1) a prominent, central stone cairn of varying size; 2) one or more concentric stone rings, generally circular; and, 3) two or more stone lines radiating out from a central point of origin, central cairn or the margin of a stone ring. (This image and definition taken from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal.” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

According to First Nations informants, these ancient stone features had religious and spiritual significance. They were often markers where prominent individuals died and occasionally were interred. Some informants claimed the spokes pointed to hunting or warpaths. Scholars think the spokes and ancillary cairns pointed to important times of the year, much like Stonehenge. Still others believe the functions of these alignments changed over the centuries.

By 1988 John Brumley had compiled a list of 67 medicine wheels in western Canada and the United States which he then categorized and described in the monograph cited below. Many more likely existed but were cleared off land intended for agriculture. Additional wheels may have been added to this list since 1988. Most medicine wheels occur in Canada, and primarily in Alberta. (Map from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal.” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Some medicine wheels may not have been single-event constructions. Instead, rocks were gradually added to the cairn and spokes for many years. The Suitor No. 2 medicine wheel in Alberta had eighteen spokes, some over thirty metres long, radiating out from a central ring.

EgOx-1, Suitor No. 2 medicine wheel, east-central Alberta, is of considerable proportions, containing additional stone circles and a possible effigy. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Others, such as the rather sizeable Bighorn medicine wheel in Wyoming and Majorville medicine wheel in southern Alberta, would have taken a long time to build and/or a considerable number of people to assemble them.

Perhaps one of the most complex and elaborate medicine wheels in North America, the Bighorn medicine wheel is still mainly intact. However, the middle cairn was vandalized and the area around the wheel is highly disturbed. Researchers believe the outside ancillary cairns had an astronomical function. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Lacking any ethnographic accounts, the Majorville medicine wheel (and others) was partially excavated to better understand its age and function. When excavating this wheel, archaeologist Jim Calder found that it was built over a period of 5,000 years. A few of the many artifacts recovered were for ceremonial and spiritual purposes including the presence of red ochre in the central cairn. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Keeping an Eye on My Children: Respect the Stone Piles

On my way to Empress, Alberta last week I stopped at the Rumsey medicine wheel. As a previous Parkland Archaeologist for the Government of Alberta, once responsible for archaeological sites in this area, I have visited Rumsey many times, occasionally alone or with Blackfoot elders and interested parties. This medicine wheel, like many others, sits at the highest point in the region. It is located close to the Red Deer River Valley.

The Rumsey medicine wheel, near Rumsey, Alberta, Canada. The cairn, like many others, has been vandalized. It did contain human remains.

A drawing of the Rumsey medicine wheel. Part of the outer ring of the cairn is missing, probably from vandalism, or was still being constructed. The two excavation pits are from looting and vandalism. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Prairie crocuses in full bloom near the Rumsey medicine wheel.

Nothing but blue sky and a great view. Like others, the Rumsey medicine wheel sits on the most prominent hill in the region, just east of the Red Deer River. From this point, you can see the surrounding countryside for many miles. These high places may have been chosen as vantage points and for spiritual reasons, but also practical ones. Imagine walking across the open prairies trying to find this particular spot. The Red Deer River acted as a linear reference point. Once you found it, you could then more easily find these high points along it.

The British Block medicine wheel on the Suffield Military Range near Medicine Hat, Alberta, has been badly messed with. People made their initials from the rocks, destroying parts of the original stone outer ring. If you look at about two o’clock just inside the outer circle, you will see a stone effigy or human figure. Artifacts found in the cairn suggest the medicine wheel dates back thousands of years. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

Markers for Important Places, People, and Events

There are still several undisturbed stone tipi rings near the Rumsey medicine wheel. And perhaps many more were there before rocks were cleared off the land for agriculture. Many medicine wheels were important places where people came back repeatedly over the centuries for a variety of reasons.

At other places in Alberta, such as the forks of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers, medicine wheels were part of a much larger First Nations land use history. This was an important place for people for centuries, leaving behind not only medicine wheels but stone effigies, countless stone tipi rings and extensive stone drive lanes for antelope and buffalo.

The bull’s forehead on the hills in the foreground, on the south bank of the South Saskatchewan River. A prominent hill at the confluence of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers, near the Saskatchewan-Alberta border. This area of the northern Great Plains contains considerable evidence of an Indigenous presence going back thousands of years.

These two prominent hills (on the north side) occur near the confluence of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers. The Roy Rivers medicine wheel sits on the highest hill on the left. From the highway, these hills are well over a mile away but the stone mounds are visible on the top. Most medicine wheels were recently named after places and people. They likely had First Nations names, now lost to us.

Close-up view of the Roy Rivers medicine wheel looking south. The larger main central cairn of rocks is on the highest point and a lesser stone cairn sits west of it. One of the chief factors, limiting where these stone features could be built, was the presence of rocks. There were plenty of those in this area just north of the ‘forks’ in Saskatchewan.

A view from the edge of the Red Deer Valley with the Roy Rivers medicine wheel in the distance on the horizon. There are ample rocks and boulders strewn on the prairie surface in this part of Saskatchewan.

The Roy Rivers medicine wheel is unusual with an aisle or doorway oriented towards the south. The wheel contains a stone effigy at approximately ten o’clock near the inside of the outer ring. Within the wheel are fifteen small stone cairns, possibly for astronomical purposes. (Image from “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

A Unique Piece of Canadian History

These rock alignments and features are important and unique pieces of Canadian history. Once disturbed or removed, they are forever lost to us. However, they are not always appreciated or respected by people who visit them. This is all too evident from the amount of disturbance to them.

I leave the last words, about the significance and meaning of these stone features, to a few Blackfoot informants, whose people were likely responsible for the construction of most of the medicine wheels in Alberta:

“I heard that when they buried a real chief, one that the people loved, they would pile rocks around the edge of his lodge and then place rows of rocks out from his burial tipi. The rock lines show that everybody went there to get something to eat. He is inviting someone every day. People went there to live off him.” (Adam White Man, South Peigan. From “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

“…the lines of rock show the different direction in which they go on the warpath – they were the dead chief’s war deeds. If they kill someone, they pile rocks at the end of the rock line. If there is no rock pile present, then they just go to the enemy. Short lines are short trips.” (Kim Weasel Tail. From “Medicine Wheels on the Northern Plains: A Summary and Appraisal,” by John H. Brumley, 1988. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Manuscript Series No. 12)

……………………..

Posted on February 13, 2021December 8, 2023
Let’s Fight Fire, With Fire

In memory of:

Dr. Henry (Hank) Lewis, University of Alberta

Dr. William Pruitt, University of Manitoba

Walls of smoke and flames approaching the City of Slave Lake, Alberta, Canada, 2011. https://news-ca.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/640×360/017.jpg

High Level (2019), Fort McMurray (2016), Slave Lake (2011), Alberta, Canada! On fire, or nearly so. Fires so hot, I’m told by first-hand witnesses, that the flames jumped across the Athabasca River at Fort McMurray. A distance of more than 200 metres. A scenario which repeats itself in many parts of Canada.

And also in other parts of the world. In 2019 we witnessed horrendous fires in New South Wales, Australia. The Blue Mountains turned grey.

Katoomba, New South Wales, Blue Mountains on fire, December 2019. A few new fires broke out in less than one hour while we were there.

Yes, granted. Climate change is partially responsible for more intense, frequent fires. But, not totally. It’s way more complex than that. It’s also a result of precedence – in this case, economics over ecology. Canada’s policy of fire suppression, for well over a century, is one of the worst mistakes made in managing our forests.

Whenever I drive through Slave Lake, up to Fort Vermilion on Highway 88, I go by the burned-out area of trees on the east side of the highway. And there on the west side sit the houses of the City. The City starts where the forest stops. How can that be a good idea?

Burned down houses near the edges of Slave Lake, Alberta. https://static.theglobeandmail.ca/b72/news/alberta/article24593293.ece/ALTERNATES/w620/web-fire-0525.JPG

How could this happen? The answer to that question requires a lesson in Canadian history. Yes, as you will see, history can teach us important lessons to apply to the future. There’s no doubt about that. But first to learn from history, we have to read it. Too little of that in Canada.

And then, the people reading it have to be empowered to turn what they learned into policy. Too little of that too from our policymakers in Canada.

Fire, Fire: The Warning Cries

In the early 1970s, I attended lectures by Henry Lewis, Professor of Anthropology. Dr. Lewis was studying the use of fire by the Dene and Cree of northern Alberta, Canada. He just finished researching the use of fire by Indigenous people in California.

Lewis’s message was clear. The northern Dene and Cree used fire regularly to clear areas in the boreal forest to create meadows and other habitat more suitable for a diversity of game animals. And they had likely done this for centuries. The boreal forest we see today was nothing like it was centuries ago before White settlement.

And by doing so, Indigenous people, not only in Canada but throughout the world, lessened the intensity of natural forest fires. Controlled burning decreased the amount of dead vegetation, or fuel, and opened up the forests, reducing large-scale spread.

In 1976 I studied Boreal Ecology under the late Professor William Pruitt, University of Manitoba. Pruitt was a quiet man with the looks and demeanour more like Santa Claus than some ‘political shit-disturber’ which he was labelled as at the University of Alaska (for standing up against the US government’s nuclear policies). The good Dr. Pruitt repeatedly told us that government fire prevention policies in the boreal forests of North America would lead to disaster. Unfortunately, Dr. Pruitt’s words turned out to be prophetic.

Massive wall of flame and smoke near High Level, Alberta, Canada. https://globalnews.ca/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/05-30-highleveltrevor2.jpg?quality=85&strip=all

The Historic Evidence of Human Use of Fire

High Prairie, Grande Prairie, Prairie Point, Jon D’Or Prairie, Buffalo Head Prairie, Clear Prairie, Meadow Lake. These are the names of a few settlements in today’s northern boreal forest in Alberta and Saskatchewan. There are more prairie names of settlements in the boreal forest than on the Northern Great Plains. Where did these names come from? Surely not because some nostalgic folks living in the woods, yearning for the prairies, named them.

No. These areas in the northern boreal forest, at the beginning of White settlement, contained vast prairies, kept open and maintained by First Nations people using fire.

Let’s go back and look at some of the evidence for deliberate burning practices by Indigenous peoples throughout the world.

Indigenous Use of Fire, Australia

“The “virgin lands” first observed by Europeans in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries were not an untouched wilderness. As several writers
have noted, the “forest primeval” was a later, romanticized creation of the
Euro-American imagination.” (Henry Lewis and Theresa Ferguson, 1988)

Historic painting of Australian Aborigines hunting in a park-like landscape. http://www.abc.net.au/reslib/201205/r949404_10117814.jpg

The Australian Aborigines used fires to create a park-like vista on the Australian landscape at the time of contact with Whites. Their activities were misunderstood and regarded with suspicion by early settlers. This created considerable strife between settlers and aborigines, as documented in a series of letters between the governor and settlers:

“I fear His Excellency will find it a very difficult subject to deal with, and impossible wholly to prevent, it has always been the custom of the Natives to fire the country during the summer season for a variety of purposes, first to assist them in hunting, it also clears the country of underwood, which if not occasionally burnt, would become an impenetrable jungle, infested with snakes and reptiles. “ (Letter to Peter Broun, Secretary to the Governor, New South Wales from Revett Henry Bland, Protector of Natives at York, 1846)

“If so – they burn for their food, whereas the existence of our Flocks and Herds depends on what to us is thus annually irretrievably destroyed and the whole district is now groaning under the ruinous spoliation…” (Richard G. Meares, Resident, 1846)

The outcome eventually favoured the settlers. As it would in many other parts of the world. Indigenous peoples were banned from burning and the dense bush began to encroach eventually creating the situations we saw last year in the Blue Mountains. Over the years fire suppression created more problems than it solved.

While driving through the outback of New South Wales of Australia in 2019, I noticed many goats along the roadsides. Feral goats are everywhere. Eating up the shrubbery and weeds. Keeping them at bay. Turns out in some communities goats are Australia’s new ‘fire’ to control bush and prevent major fires.

Goats, in some parts of Australia, are now the new ‘fire’, keeping dense vegetation and undergrowth under control. “On the edge of Daylesford, a town on Dja Dja Wurrung country in Victoria, Australia prone to massive bushfires, a small group of community-minded folk have pulled together to work towards restoring the ecology of their commons forest – in order to stop the future need for controlled burn-offs by the local fire authority.” Goats, it seems are the new fire. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feral_goats_in_Australia#/media/File:Goats_-_Wilpena_Pound.JPG)

Indigenous Use of Fire, California

Virtually the same circumstances took place in what was to become California when the Spanish arrived. They tried to suppress the use of fire by the Indigenous people, calling it “primitive” and wasteful. In 1850, the US government passed the Act for the Government and Protection of Indians, which outlawed intentional burning. According to fire historian Stephen Pyne:

“They said if we suppress all these fires, we end light burning, we will have great new forests. And we did – we had so much great new forest that we created a problem.”

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2019/nov/21/wildfire-prescribed-burns-california-native-americans. Rick O’Rourke, Yurok fire practitioner during the prescribed burn in Weitchpec, California.

In the late 1960s, the US government rethought its fire policies but is still paying the price today. Indigenous groups, such as the Yurok are again beginning to actively use fire, as they had traditionally for many centuries, to open up the forests:

“Our first agreement with our creator was to tend the land. It was taken away from us, and now we’re trying to reclaim it.” (Rick O’Rourke, Yurok fire manager, from https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2019/nov/21/wildfire-prescribed-burns-california-native-americans)

Indigenous Use of Fire, Boreal Forest, Northern Alberta

In Alberta, northern Canada, at the time of contact Dene used fire to manage the forest and keep it from clogging up. According to surveyor George M. Dawson in 1879, when in northern Alberta:

“…the origin of the prairies of the Peace River is sufficiently obvious. There can be no doubt that they have been produced and are maintained by fires. The country is naturally a wooded one, and where fires have not run for a few years, young trees begin rapidly to spring up.” (Macoun 1882:125)

In the early 1970s, Dr. Henry Lewis argued that places in northern Alberta:

“…prescribed fires were once part of the Indian’s own pattern of ‘landscape management’.….their selective employment of modern fire for boreal forest adaptations indicated an understanding of both the general principles and the local specific environmental relationships that are the subject of modern fire ecology….They understood and practiced controlled burning as a part of hunting-gathering subsistence activities.” (from Lewis 1982)

By the use of fire, the people kept meadows and other areas open and refurbished:

“Why the bushes so thick is because…they stop burning—the Indians stopped burning…Did you ever see them prairies? My goodness, I even remember. It was really prairie…just prairie, you know, (and) here and there you see little specks of woods….” (Beaver woman, 69, High Level, Alberta area; from Lewis 1982:24)

Such open meadows would have attracted many large game animals, including the once-abundant woodland bison:

“Until the mid-eighteenth century bison ranged throughout much of the boreal forest, as far north as Great Slave Lake and the Mackenzie River in the Northwest Territories….it seems unlikely that either the Athapaskans or later Algonkians would have overlooked the possibilities of providing and maintaining better habitat for woodland buffalo [through use of fire].” (from Lewis 1982; brackets mine)

“People know where to hunt. Our people have a name for those burned places in the forest called go-ley-day. They tell one another about those places and when to hunt there.” (Slavey, 69, Meander River area; from Lewis, 1982)

When asked why this practice stopped, the responses were consistent and similar to other areas of the world:

“But it is years ago they did that. Nowadays you can’t burn on the trap line because it’s against the law, and it’s not so good as before.” (Slavey 73, Meander River area; from Lewis, 1982)

Indigenous people also knew that camping and living among the trees was dangerous:

“What is that name? Maskuta? Muskotaw! Yea, that’s a prairie like place. There used to be lots of places around here. Nobody built their house in the woods like they do now. If we get a forest fire now it could be really bad. All the houses would get burned up. It’s a lot safer if you got open places…you just your teepee up there.” (Cree, 78, Trout Lake [Alberta] area; from Lewis 1982)

Obviously, that lesson, learned long ago, has yet to trickle down to today’s generation.

Anthropogenic Burning and the Historic Record, Alberta

Both Indigenous people and academics have voiced these ideas for years now. But, still not enough people are listening. Recently, however, more action has been taken to better manage the world’s forests. Including Canada’s forests.

For example, ecologists working in Alberta’s Rocky Mountains demonstrated that restoring forest areas to a pre-European landscape “resulted in dramatically lower mean probability… [of high-intensity fires] …and a smaller reduction in the mean fire size” (from Poletto 2019)

My interest in anthropogenic burning lies in how long it was used. The Fort Vermilion region contained ‘prairies’ at contact and was an important place for the acquisition of meat in the fur trade. In 1987 we found one of the largest prehistoric sites in the region, which we think might have been used intermittently for the last 9,000 years. Was this place always important historically and a prairie?

Throughout northern Alberta, archaeologists and paleo-ecologists are looking at these relationships more closely. Did these historically documented prairies have a long history of human use?

During the late 18th – early 19th centuries, traders and explorers noted several places where large game, especially wood bison, were plentiful in areas with prairies or more open parkland. Here are a few of the areas shown in the map below:

These are a few of the places, circled in yellow, described by traders and explorers as containing ‘prairies’ and abundant large game animals, including wood bison. 1. Fort McKay area; 2. Lake Athabasca delta; 3. Salt Plains, NWT; 4) Fort Vermilion -High Level area; 5) Whitemud River near Peace River; and, 6) the Grande Prairie.

The Salt Plains, NWT, west of Fort Smith. An open parkland area with natural salt outcroppings. Important wood bison grounds historically and today’s herds.

Buffalo Head Prairie, just south of La Crete, Alberta, looking south towards the Buffalo Head Hills in the distance. Historically a vast, flat, wide open prairie, likely maintained by burning. Today it has some of the best farmland in the region. In some parts of northern Alberta, early settlers stated that they would not have cleared the land so easily had it not been for the already open prairie areas such as these south of La Crete.

Our large, ancient archaeological site near Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada, is now mostly in a cultivated field. One of the still-standing Metis log houses was built at the turn of the 20th century.

These places contain both a high frequency and some very large archaeological sites, thousands of years old. Unfortunately we do not have sufficient evidence to connect the long Indigenous land use directly to deliberate burning and the formation of prairies and parkland in the forest.

It will take years of research to better understand this association. However, it has already begun. Paleo-ecologists are examining lake sediments in some areas of the province. They reveal a long history of deliberate burning before contact. The task is difficult as one researcher recently noted:

“Although anthropogenic fires cannot be distinguished in Sharkbite Lake’s record, the charcoal record indicates that on average, every 155 years there was a major fire episode close to Sharkbite Lake. More recent regional fire studies indicate that some areas are prone to burn every 10 years.” (Christina Potello, Department of Anthropology, University of Alberta)

Back to the ‘Old Ways’

Massive wall of flames approaching Fort McMurray. https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?p=images+of+burned+area+near+Fort+McMurrayl+alberta&fr=yhs-trp-001&type=Y143_F163_201897_102620&hspart=trp&hsimp=yhs-001&imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs-i.huffpost.com%2Fgen%2F4285976%2Fthumbs%2Fo-FORT-MCMURRAY-900.jpg%3F16#id=6&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs-i.huffpost.com%2Fgen%2F4285976%2Fthumbs%2Fo-FORT-MCMURRAY-900.jpg%3F16&action=click

With the incorporation of the Dominion Lands Act in 1872, Canada engaged in a war against fire. Good or bad. Elizabeth Ramsey’s (2015) article on the history of forest fire management in Alberta documents the views and policies that have led to today’s crisis. As one fire expert succinctly put it, by the second half of the 19th century conflicting interests about Alberta’s resources collided, “…a new logic of economics smashed against an older logic of ecology.” (Stephen J. Pyne, 2007).

While our perceptions and actions are slowly changing toward fire, in the words of one Indigenous informant, back in the 1970s:

“It would take a long time to make the country like it was before we stopped burning…maybe fifty years to get the country back (to what it was). It would take a lot of work.” (Slavey, 73, High Level [Alberta] area; from Lewis 1982)

While it’s never too late to change course, it would take a herculean effort to take our forests back to the pre-contact days. And, does it conflict with today’s economics? Perhaps. But surely our current forest policies are not the answer.

Today’s northern boreal forests are often choked with dense underbrush making travel through them almost impossible. And also finding archaeological sites. Boyer River, 2018. Somewhere in there is a late 18th-century fur trade post.

As I walked across the ancient prehistoric site near Fort Vermilion and gazed towards the Caribou Mountains in the distance I envisioned a vast prairie – parkland centuries ago, with grazing herds of wood bison and elk, stretching for miles in either direction, in what is now Canada’s northern boreal forest.

Now only open fields or dense forests appear before me. But no flocks of feral goats. We haven’t got that desperate yet.

……………………….

References

Lewis, H.T., 1982. A Time for burning. Boreal Institute for Northern Studies. Edmonton, Alberta.

Lewis, Henry T., and Theresa A. Ferguson, 1988. Yards, Corridors, and Mosaics: How to Burn a Boreal Forest. Human Ecology 16:57-77.

Macoun, John, 1882. Manitoba and the great North-West. Guelph, Ontario. World Publishing Company.

Poletto, Christina Livia, 2019. Postglacial Human and Environment Landscapes of Northeastern Alberta: An Analysis of Late Holocene Sediment Record from Sharkbite Lake, Alberta. M. A. Thesis, Department of Anthropology, University of Alberta.

Pyne, Stephen J., 2007. Awful Splendour: A Fire History of Canada. University of British Columbia Press.

Ramsey, Elizabeth, 2015. Ecology or Economy. A History of Forest Fire Management in Alberta. Alberta History:16-20.

Posted on February 5, 2021February 5, 2021
My Stone Knife: A Note About Canadian Stone Tool Technology

Much of Canadian human history is written in stone. Stone tools, and detritus from making those tools, are often the only remaining physical evidence of the presence of the New World by First Nations peoples for thousands of years. That record goes back well over ten thousand years in some parts of the Americas.

I’m just analyzing the stone tools we found in 2018 at a prehistoric site in the Fort Vermilion region, northern Canada. I always marvel at the level of craftsmanship (or craftswomanship) these tools display.

This prehistoric biface, likely a stone knife, found in northern Alberta, Canada, was an important type of cutting tool for First Nations people for thousands of years.

Take for example this beautiful bifacially flaked quartzite knife. It still retains its edge, even though possibly made thousands of years ago. The reason is that quartzite, on the Mohs hardness scale, is about a seven (diamond being a 10), equivalent in hardness to a good steel knife blade.

Years ago, at Simon Fraser University, we learned how to make stone tools. We smashed our fingers, we bled, we cursed… Soon I began to appreciate just how hard it was to make even a simple stone tool. Such as this knife.

There’s a lot of thought, effort, and skill involved when making a stone knife. Let’s consider a few of the necessary steps.

First you need to know something about the characteristics of stone. And where to find the best ones. When it comes to stone tool making not all rocks are created equal.

Many stone tools are made by a method called direct percussion where the knapper (stone tool maker) drives flakes off a cobble or spall to thin and shape it. The best rocks for making stone tools have a cryptocrystalline (or having a microscopic crystalline) structure. These rocks fracture in predictable ways because the force created by the blow dissipates through them evenly. Quartzite, a metamorphosed sandstone, is such a rock.

Stone flakes from a northern Alberta prehistoric site, driven off a larger piece of rock. The dark rock on the left is chert (a hard, fine-grained sedimentary rock composed of cryptocrystalline crystals of quartz); in the middle is orthoquartzite (similar to quartzite) and on the far right, quartzite. These three types of rocks are found in northern Alberta. Prehistoric First Nations people made most of their stone tools from them.

I have wandered the North Saskatchewan River Valley looking looking for just the right quartzite cobble to flake. Because not all quartzites are equal either. I have yet to find quartzites of the quality of some of the prehistoric quartzite stone tools in the region.

For example, below are some average quality local quartzites. Notice how much coarser and grainy they are compared to the ones above. With these materials it is much harder to flake, thin and shape a tool. Over the years I have learned what cobbles to look for before splitting them. Those that have chatter marks (made from hitting other rocks or scoured by ice) on the cortex (outer oxidized layer) are usually better quality. And, when you strike another rock against them, the good ones ring a bit; the poor quality ones ‘clank’.

A quartzite flake (left) and a quartzite biface (right). These quartzites are coarser and grainier than the quartzite above. And therefore do not flake as well.

Once you have found good raw material, you then have to strike the piece you are working on just right to remove a flake. Again, easier said than done. If you don’t strike the piece at the proper angle with your hammer (often simply another stone), you either crush the striking platform or nothing happens because you did not create enough force to move through the rock to remove a flake.

Or, you could break and ruin the piece. That’s where more cursing and smashing of fingers usually comes in.

We refer to stone tool making as a ‘reductive’ technology. One major mistake and you have to start over. Unlike pottery-making which is an ‘additive’ technology and more forgiving if you make a mistake.

I started flintknaping obsidian (volcanic glass). Although dangerous it is relatively easy to work. After a few months I made some decent tools.

I made this small obsidian point by another flintknapping technique, known as pressure flaking. In this technique you push off the flakes to shape and thin the artifact with an antler tine. It takes special platform preparation, and proper angle to ‘push’ off the flakes. One slip and you could either drive your hand into the edge or drive the tine into your thigh. Done both.

This obsidian knife snapped in half when I tried to remove a thinning flake from the left end. Later my professor told me this is referred to as ‘end-shock’, where the force of the blow stops at some point in the object and then travels up. Snapping it in half. There was a lot of moaning after that incident.
Obsidian is easier to work than quartzite, and achieves a very sharp edge. But it is more brittle and does not maintain an edge as well as quartzite. There is always a trade-off.

Then, while excavating a prehistoric site in Edmonton, Alberta, in the early 1980s, I decided to work with local quartzite. Well, it was as if I had never flintknapped before. Quartzite, when compared to obsidian, is much harder. You really had to whack those edges (and occasionally fingers) to get anything off. And often you couldn’t control what came off.

After months of practice I made some passable tools, like the quartzite biface below. But that took tremendous effort and many attempts. And, when you compare the thinness (a sign of quality workmanship) of my biface to the one we found in northern Alberta, it shows what an amateur I still was after all that practice.

This quartzite biface made by the author pales in comparison in workmanship to prehistoric bifaces, such as the one below. And I have seen even thinner examples in Alberta assemblages.

The northern biface on edge, showing the thin cutting edge and overall thinness of this stone tool.

My quartzite biface on edge. Not nearly as thin as the northern biface. The thicker cutting edge on my biface would not cut as well as that northern biface. And, hafting this piece onto a wood or bone handle, would have been difficult because of its thickness.

And that folks is what it takes to just make a stone knife. There are other more sophisticated stone tool making techniques that take even greater skill and are more time-consuming. Such as pecking or grinding stones to make tools.

Nephrite adze blades found in the Grande Prairie area, Alberta, Canada. This tool, which was cut from larger blocks, and the cutting edge ground down, was likely made in British Columbia and traded into Alberta. A good example of ground-stone technology. https://open.alberta.ca/dataset/0197d86f-f7e1-4726-9440-cc2765e79c6e/resource/06315117-4c8d-45b0-bcaf-80a6995e35a7/download/pre-contact-jade.pdf

The Viking Ribstones, near Viking, Alberta, Canada. An example of grinding or pecking stone technology. It took either many years, or many First Nations people, or both, to patiently grind away on these granite boulders to create these incised lines, which some people believe depict the ribs of a buffalo. https://hermis.alberta.ca/ARHP/GetImageDetails.aspx?ObjectID=4665-0111&MediaID=127160

Today We Occasionally Use Stone Tools

Humans and their ancestors, throughout the world, made a variety of stone tools. Some of the earliest stone tools date back to over 2.58 million years ago, and were nothing more than fist-sized cobbles with some flakes removed to create a cutting edge.

In some parts of the world, people still made and used stone tools during the 20th century. Even today we are not totally out of the stone age. Nothing, not even the best steel, compares to this obsidian surgical scalpel blade (left), with an edge thickness of approximately one micron.

https://ca.images.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?p=obsidian+scalpel+blade+images&fr=yhs-trp-001&hspart=trp&hsimp=yhs-001&imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.stack.imgur.com%2FxSNCk.png#id=6&iurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.stack.imgur.com%2FxSNCk.png&action=click

Today, many people, including archaeologists, create beautiful tools from exotic rocks, to better understand the ancient tool-making techniques.

Some prehistoric tools, however, are almost beyond the believable, such as these Mayan ‘eccentrics‘.

Some of the finest ancient flintknapping and most beautiful ancient stone artifacts, or eccentrics, ever made come from the Mayan Civilization, northeastern Belize, central America. These objects are pieces of art. http://www.lithiccastinglab.com/gallery-pages/2010septembertussingereccentricspage1.htm

When I see these Mayan artifacts, or the stone workmanship below, I only sigh with envy. And, as a Canadian, I refer to that often-used hockey analogy when viewing this piece. ‘Hell, I could have been that good (to make the NHL) if only I’d practiced more.’ Ya, right!

This begs the question, of course, why Indigenous people around the world eventually abandoned these techniques and traded for similar European tools? Answers to that question of Canadian history, are complex and often hotly debated.

Maybe, in a future post, I will elaborate further on that question with a work of historical fiction!

…………………………

Posted on April 30, 2020June 11, 2026
Prehistoric Lifeways: The Bison Pound

The Plains Bison. Once numbering in the millions on the Great Plains of North America, this animal furnished prehistoric peoples with food, clothing, and shelters. Trying to capture these animals took a great deal of effort and ingenuity on the part of their human pursuers.

Over the centuries humans invented many ways to capture and slaughter animals on a mass scale. In Canada the most well known methods include netting or trapping thousands of fish (fish weir) at a time, or driving the Plains bison over cliffs. In his renowned book Imagining Head-Smashed-In (University of Athabasca Press), archaeologist Jack Brink talks about the methods the Blackfoot of southern Alberta used to drive hundreds of bison over steep cliffs to their deaths.

The cliffs at Head-Smashed-In buffalo jump, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, west of Fort Macleod, Alberta, Canada. Prehistoric peoples drove the bison off this ten metre high cliff located at the southern edge of the Porcupine Hills. The animals would then be butchered in the nearby camp which also had a source of water close by. The site may have been used as early as six-thousand years ago leaving a twelve metre thick bone bed beneath the cliffs.

The Bison Pound

One of the few historic images of a bison pound. In this drawing, by George Back, horsemen chased bison into a wooden circular corral. In prehistoric times, runners would have pursued them on foot. Hunters hid around the pound fence, ready to dispatch the animals with spears, bows and arrows, or firearms. The camp was usually nearby, hidden and downwind from these nearsighted animals with an incredible sense of smell. (Library and Archives of Canada, C-33615)

The bison or antelope pound is another, lesser-known method of mass killing that First Nations peoples used on the Northern Great Plains and parklands in western Canada. In her monograph, Communal Buffalo Hunting Among the Plains Indians, Eleanor Verbicky-Todd describes several ingenious ways people captured these animals and disposed of them. One of those ways was the pound, or surround.

Aside from Brink’s book, this is one of the best sources written about communal bison hunting. Published by the Archaeological Survey of Alberta, it describes the various methods of communal bison hunting and other ingenious ways prehistoric peoples devised to capture this animal.

What is a Bison Pound?

Bison pounds are large corrals or enclosures, between five and six feet high, made from cut trees with an opening at one end to chase bison into. Once inside, the animals couldn’t escape (because of a ramp or drop into the corral at the gate) and were then disposed of with the bow and arrow, or later with firearms. Of all the methods First Nations peoples devised to capture these enormous animals, pounding was the most difficult of all.

This drawing of an Assiniboine buffalo park or surround by Edwin Thomas Denig (from Indian Tribes of the Upper Missouri, 1930:532. Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology). The pound requires some key components to work. A long drive lane is spread out to funnel the animals in. A set of hills, dunes, or trees are present in front of the corral to hide it from the animals. An elevated ramp near the entrance prevents the animals from escaping. In the center of the corral there is a medicine mast (usually a striped tree) with charms attached to it by the grand-master of ceremonies. The buffalo caller.

“Success depended upon too many circumstances. The ground had to lie correctly; timber should be available; the game has to be fairly plentiful and within easy reach. Also, someone able to guide the animals in the right direction was indispensable. Under the most favourable conditions, too, the herd often escaped.” (from Robert Jefferson, 1929. “Fifty Years on the Saskatchewan.” In Canadian Northwest Historical Society Publications 1:1-160)

Diagram of the Plains Cree buffalo pound (by David Mandelbaum 1979:53. In The Plains Cree). The bottom two sketches show the gate or entrance which is a raised wood platform or earthen ramp. Once the bison jump in they can’t get back out again.

Where Does Bison Pounding Occur?

In Canada bison pounds are found on the Northern Great Plains and the park lands of the prairie provinces. But, in these areas certain key elements were required: Bison, trees (to make the corrals), suitable terrain, a large gathering basin, and lots of people (to build the pound and drive lanes, drive the animals in, dispose of them, and then butcher and process the meat).

For many years known locations of bison pounds were relatively rare in Alberta. Today most pounds occur in the park lands and northern Great Plains where there are trees and proper terrain. Such as river valleys or foothills. Without trees you can’t build the corrals and drive lanes.

In 2010, there were sixteen known pounds recorded in Alberta. Most of them occur in areas with trees and hilly terrain. Early explorers, such as David Thompson, Peter Fidler and Alexander Henry, remarked that bison pounding was a major industry in the parklands of the prairie provinces. As the demand for meat and pemmican rose during the fur trade, this industry likely became more common than during prehistoric times.

Now after hundreds or even thousands of years these features leave no mark on the surface of the land. You’ve probably driven by some pounds without even knowing it.

Suitable Terrain and Trees – Bodo, Alberta

Terrain and trees were key factors to build and operate a successful pound. Hills or barriers (e.g., trees) were required to hide the pound from the bison. Sometimes the pound was placed on a slope, helping to drive the animals down into it. On a flat surface the drive lanes were sometimes curved and a ramp was built at the entrance to hide the corral. A successful pound also required a large prairie or gathering basin for bison to graze, and then to move the animals toward the pound.

The Bodo area of east-central Alberta is just such a place. Bodo, you ask? Where is that? Well, I’ll let you look it up on a map. If you visit the area when their interpretive center is open in the summer months, you can even tour the site and occasionally partake in excavations.

This is Bodo, Alberta, southeast of Provost, near the Alberta-Saskatchewan border. The area contains all the key elements to make a good pound. Treed sand hills (above left) to build and hide the pound. And a large gathering basin where bison would come to graze and drink water from the nearby creek. The photograph at the bottom shows the treed Bodo sand dunes, surrounded by vast grasslands. A perfect spot for an ambush.

Surprise and Ambush – Hardisty, Alberta

The Hardisty bison pound site is a short distance east of the Battle River and would have provided people with wood, water and the terrain necessary to drive bison successfully into a well concealed pound.

When you drive east on Highway 13 and arrive at Hardisty, Alberta and then cross the Battle River, you will see a series of oil bunkers on the right side of the highway. In the Battle River Valley below them lies the Hardisty bison pound. The site was found when the oil companies wanted to construct their pipelines through the valley corridor. What was uncovered and hidden for so many years, surprised many people.

The Hardisty site is remarkable in many ways. It wasn’t discovered until relatively recently, although it was near a major central Alberta highway and the community of Hardisty. It contains a very thick bone bed which represents use between 900 – 1,100 years ago, and then approximately 7,000 years ago, making it one of the oldest known pound sites in western Canada. It also contained an adjoining camping and processing area.

Archaeological deposits and artifacts from the Hardisty site. Top left: a bone pit. Right: prehistoric projectile points. Bottom left: pottery shards. (Photograph courtesy of FMA Consultants)

Paskapoo Slopes, Calgary, Alberta

North facing Paskapoo Slopes, looking south from the north side of the Bow River. The numbered sites represent prehistoric campsites, kill sites, and one major pound (EgPn-362). (Photograph courtesy of Lifeways of Canada)

Nestled on the Paskapoo slopes, in the heart of Calgary, Alberta, are a series of prehistoric campsites, kill sites, and a major buffalo pound site, hidden for thousands of years in plain view.

Bone bed of bison pound being excavated by archaeologists, Lifeways of Canada. Archaeologists collect all the bones and artifacts and then reconstruct what portions of the animals were used and what was left behind. (Photographs courtesy of Lifeways of Canada).

Illustrations of the Hardisty pound site (above left) and the Paskapoo pound site (below right), redrawn from Lifeways of Canada and FMA Consultants, showing the shape of the drive lanes, the pound and the slope of the land. Note in both sites the drive lanes may have curved somewhat near the gate and corral. Possibly to better conceal the gate and the pound from the bison.

A Time for Ceremony, Cooperation and Feasting

Communal large game hunting, such as the operation and construction of a bison pound, took a great deal of skill, organization, cooperation of many people, and sound execution to successfully lure the animals into the corrals. Pounding was accompanied by ceremonies to bring in the animals, and feasting when the animals were caught. Often the pounds did not work and then the process started over again.

What the Paskapoo Slopes pound and processing area might have looked like. (Drawing, courtesy of Lifeways of Canada).

Bison pounds in Alberta date back as far as seven-thousand years, and possibly earlier. These are only a few of many pounds that likely occur in Alberta. Others have yet to be found. Numerous pounds are also present in southern Saskatchewan (near Estuary and Gull Lake) where I grew up. As a young boy I used to roam the river hills where Miry Creek flowed into the South Saskatchewan River. There might have been a pound near there as well.

I’ll leave you with one last, perhaps more realistic description of an Assiniboine bison pound near Fort George, Alberta, described by North West Company trader Duncan M’Gillivray, in 1794. Not a pretty picture:

“On arriving at the camp our noses were assailed by an offensive smell which would have proved fatal to more delicate organs: It proceeded from the Carcases in the Pound and the mangled limbs of Buffaloes scattered among the Lodges, but another substance which shall be nameless contributed the most considerable part of this diabolical odour. In the afternoon were were gratified by the seeing the Buffalo enter the Pound; they were conducted thither by two small fences beginning on each side of the door and extending wider the farther they advance in the Plain: from behind these the Indians Waved their robes as the Buffaloes were passing to direct their course straight towards the Pound, which was so well constructed on the declivity of a small hill that it was invisible till you arrived at the gate. The poor animals were scarce enclosed, when showers of arrows were discharged at them as they rushed round the Pound making furious attempts to revenge themselves on their foes, till at length being overcome with wounds & loss of blood they were compelled to yield to their oppressors and many of them were cut to pieces before the last remainder of life had forsook them. Of all the methods which the Indians have devised for the destruction of this useful animal, – the Pound is the most successful.” (from the diary of Duncan M’Gillivray, November 23, 1794, near the Vermilion River, Alberta.

The bison pound, when full of large, frightened, stampeding animals, would have been a chaotic, dangerous place to be near. This drawing by Robert Frankowiak is on the cover of Verbicky-Todd’s monograph published by the Archaeological Survey of Alberta. It was originally in Thomas F. Kehoe’s publication, The Gull Lake Site: A Prehistoric Bison Drive in Southwestern Saskatchewan. 1973. Milwaukee Public Museum Publications in Anthropology and History 1.

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