I normally don’t advertise on this website. I make an exception here.
First, because I believe Tom Shay’s new book, Under Prairie Skies. The Plants and Native Peoples of the Northern Plains, published by the University of Nebraska Press, may appeal to those of you interested in Ethnobotany. Including Canadian Ethnobotany.1
Second, Tom Shay was my Master’s thesis advisor, 1974-1978, when I attended the University of Manitoba. As I reflect back on the many years I’ve known Tom, I realize what an important influence he had on my academic career. He was a wonderful mentor.
Below is information on Tom’s new book, and his upcoming colloquium on September 23rd, which some of you may wish to listen in on. I hope you enjoy the book and colloquium.
Book Promotion – University of Nebraska Press
Book Description and Biography
Flanked by humid forests on the east and high plains on the west, the northern Great Plains stretch over some 220,000 square miles of the mid-continent, across parts of two Canadian provinces and four American states, mainly between the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. Under Prairie Skies explores the relationships between plants this region’s many Native groups. Aided by useful maps and graphs, it is filled with appealing color photographs of plants and landscapes. A helpful glossary of common and scientific names is included along with an extensive bibliography.
Under Prairie Skies falls into three parts. The first sets the stage by looking at the region’s glacial history and capricious climate, factors that influence the abundance and distribution of plants and animals. It closes with a virtual tour across today’s prairies, woodlands, and marshes as well as places of Native heritage. The middle chapters cover the science behind the story including technical advances such as AMS dating and analysis of ancient DNA. They go on to show how early peoples managed the land and domesticated crops such as maize. The last part focuses on daily life as it was long ago, examining how plants were used for food, medicine, spiritual practices, and crafting material goods. The author, C. Thomas Shay, grew up in Minneapolis and earned his Ph.D. in Anthropology at the University of Minnesota. He taught at the University of Manitoba in Winnipeg for 32 years, during which time he researched the environmental and human history of the northern plains in partnership with his late wife Jennifer, a professional botanist. Tom’s team has analyzed thousands of plant remains from several dozen archaeological sites in the region. He has authored two books, contributed a number of book chapters, and published thirty articles. In 1997, Tom was awarded the Manitoba Prix Award for Heritage Education. He is currently a Senior Scholar.
Chokecherry
Colloquium Details
Colloquium Details
The Making of an Ethnobotanist
A talk by C. Thomas Shay
INTRODUCTION
Writing Under Prairie Skies was a labor of love for a land I know well. The founding ideas for the book came after I had taken a number of undergraduate courses in botany at the University of Minnesota, including plant ecology and especially “Plants Useful to Man: A Cultural Course in Botany.” These courses opened my eyes to new ways of thinking about humans and the botanical world. When I did my dissertation research on a bison kill site in northwestern Minnesota, I realized that to understand past plant uses at the site, I must first evaluate the area’s current flora. Granting some continuity in that flora, I compiled tables of the species useful for food, etc. in each nearby habitat. Later, together with my wife Jennifer, a botanist, I conducted botanical surveys around a number of sites in Manitoba and adjacent Saskatchewan.
The need to understand the plant resources available thus guided my early research for the book. Student assistants compiled a spreadsheet of the total flora of the northern plains, then noted those used by regional groups.This tally, along with the seed and charcoal finds from archaeological sites across the region, became the starting point of the book.
I also wanted to tell people about the most common plants and describe their uses. As we delved into uses for such plants as wild sage, chokecherries, prairie turnip, cattails, and stinging nettles, it soon became clear that Native oral tradition was the key to understanding.
Writing about societies vastly different from my own proved challenging. For help, I reached out to a network of experts both Native and non-Native. Over two dozen Native voices helped shape the book, but especially those by Edward Benton-Banai, Nicolas Black Elk, Wendy Geniusz, Basil Johnston, and Robin Wall Kimmerer.
As work progressed, the book’s contents naturally fell into three parts. Part One sets the scene, going back thousands of years to when the glaciers sculpted the land. This is followed by a review of the region’s variable weather, showing some of the challenges faced by early inhabitants. Then I take the reader on a virtual “tour” to explore a variety of habitats from Saskatchewan to Iowa. In Part Two, I describe some history about the tools that archaeologists use and what we currently know about early plant domestication. Part Three covers the many plants used for food, crafts, medicine, and spiritual life. In Chapter Eight, I ask: “Do you think you could build and furnish your home using only local natural materials?” I quickly assure the reader that, “Native people did this for generations.”
Their legacy is everywhere. Modern roads follow their footpaths, the names of every state and province in the region are derived from Native languages as are those of many rivers, lakes and towns. Moreover, physical traces of Native heritage: a bison jump, spiritual sands, a sacred cave, and a rock alignment, for example, can still be seen. And we must remember that the people themselves still exist, keeping their traditions as best they can, often under adverse circumstances. I sincerely hope that Under Prairie Skies will help shine a light on their impressive accomplishments.
Stinging Nettle
Footnotes:
the scientific study of the traditional knowledge and customs of a people concerning plants and their medical, religious, and other uses.[↩]
Our visit to the Glaumbaer farmstead, northern Iceland, in Spring, 2022. This farmstead dates back to the 18th and 19th centuries, consisting of a complex of rooms joined by a central hall. The buildings are made of sod and driftwood. They represent a northern method of building construction that goes back to the 9th century when the Vikings first settled in Iceland. And even earlier among other northern cultures in other countries.
I have a certain affinity for architecture. It talks of the history and origins of a people. While on vacation in Iceland this spring we visited the Glaumbær turf house in Skagafjörður, northwestern Iceland. What surprised me was there was a possible Canadian connection.
Turf in Antiquity
Humans built turf buildings for centuries. In Norway, Scotland, Ireland, Faeroe Islands, Greenland, other parts of Northern Europe (such as the Netherlands), northern Canada and on the Great Plains in western Canada and the USA. The earliest known turf houses in Scotland date back to 4,000 B.C. Turf buildings were built at Dun Nosebridge (an Iron Age fort on Islay), at Roman forts along the Antonine Wall, at Culloden Moor and at St. Kilda.
The turf house was spread across northern Europe. Left: Irish turf house (c.1905) northern Ireland.1 Right: Scottish turf house, at Ness, Isle of Lewis, in the late 1940s.2Left: A turf house in Qassiarsuk, Greenland.3 Right: Beret Hagebak’s turf house, east of Madison, Minnesota, in Lac qui Parle County, ca. 1896.4
Tenth Century Turf House Beneath Reykjavik, Iceland
Reykjavik, Iceland’s capital city, was one of the first areas settled by the Norse. They likely chose it for its resources but also because of its good natural harbour.
When visiting I noticed a glass portal on the sidewalk outside our hotel. When I peered down, people were walking around a display two metres below me. Archaeologists had uncovered the remains of a turf longhouse dating back to approximately 1,000 A.D.
Although built nearly a thousand years earlier than the Glaumbær turf house, the two dwellings were similar in construction. The turf was usually the main material used to construct the building walls but also to cover the timber framed roof. Stones were used with or without the turf for the walls. Even slate was used as an underlay for the roof.
This completely excavated turf house lies under the streets of today’s Reykjavik. Having thick turf walls, wooden framework, and stones for flooring and the hearth, its construction is similar to the Glaumbaer farmstead. An entire museum was built around it two metres beneath Reykjavik’s streets. The bottom right photograph shows what the building once looked like facing Reykjavik’s harbor.
But what changed, since the Norse built the first turf houses in Iceland, was the layout of the two structures. Instead of being essentially one long enclosure or longhouse, where multiple tasks were performed, later farmsteads were comprised of separate rooms, each with a specific purpose, joined by a hallway.
The layout of the turf house changed in Iceland and elsewhere over the centuries. The Reykjavik longhouse on the left was mostly one large room where all household activities took place and where extended families lived together. By the 18th century the farmsteads were divided up into smaller buildings each with a special function. The entire complex was often joined together by a common hall or corridor.5
Glaumbær Farmstead
This historic farmstead, and the people who lived here, have a possible Canadian connection. Snorri Þorfinnsson and his parents lived in another area below this farmstead in the 11th century. Snorri was the son of Guðríður Þorbjarnardóttir, who was the widow of Þorsteinn, who was Erik the Red’s son and the brother of Leif the Lucky, who discovered America. If the Icelandic Sagas are correct, then Snorri was the first European born in the Americas and possibly at L’Anse aux Meadows on the northern tip of Newfoundland.
The building turf walls are over a metre thick providing good insulation during the winter months. Our Icelandic guide could not explain the reason for the curious oblique sod stacking method (far right). Poles down the center corridor supported the roof superstructure (center).
People lived in this farmstead until 1947 when it was turned over to the National Museum of Iceland. Others like it still exist scattered throughout Iceland and other northern countries, including Canada.
The Glaumbær turf house was divided into sixteen rooms, each one having a specific function: storage (left); kitchen (center); and, bedroom (right). A family’s wealth was often measured in the number of rooms a farmstead contained. The Glaumbaer house contained three guest rooms. When reading the Icelandic Sagas, entertaining and housing guests, often for the whole winter, was not uncommon for wealthy landowners.
While the Icelandic economy was based primarily on fishing, sheep and cattle (north) were also very important. Many of the rooms and artifacts represent the farming industry and the importance of wool in Icelandic culture.
Iceland is renowned for its wool industry, an important component of its culture for centuries. In the spring, when the new lambs are born (usually two to an ewe), sheep outnumber the Icelandic population of approximately 375,000.
L’Anse aux Meadows Viking Turf Houses
Icelanders built turf houses, similar to the Reykjavik longhouse, on the northern tip of Newfoundland around 1,000 A.D. Some of those families may have originated from northern Iceland and at an earlier Glaumbær Farmstead.
Leif Eriksson, or ‘Leif the Lucky’, born in Iceland is credited for finding the New World, around 1,000 A.D. There is a possibility, although not verified by archaeological evidence, that the Vikings made earlier voyages before him. Regardless of which version is correct, the Vikings did settle at L’Anse aux Meadows around that time and built their turf buildings. This map on the left shows the archaeological remains present at L’anse aux Meadows. The longhouse, divided into several rooms, resembled other Viking longhouses built around the same time, in northern Europe, Greenland and Iceland. 6These reconstructed buildings, based on the archaeological evidence, are similar to the early Icelandic and Greenland longhouses. If they are contemporaneous to one another, then at least three extended family units lived along the northern shores of the province. 7
Inuit Turf Dwellings
Long before the Vikings arrived in Newfoundland, the Inuit had already occupied the northern Arctic. The archaeological evidence indicates that they first settled the Arctic around 3,950 B. C. And some of that archaeological evidence suggests that they and other Inuit in Labrador and Greenland used turf to build their shelters.
The Dorset8 culture oval-shaped winter house exhibit in the Canadian Museum of History excavated on Ellesmere Island was built in the following manner: “The foundation was dug ten to fifty centimetres deep into dry soil or gravel, to provide insulation and protection from the wind. The walls were built using the material dug from the house floor, supplemented by boulders and insulating blocks of turf.”9
Thule 10 people built perhaps the most impressive winter dwellings. According to Robert Park, an arctic archaeologist, the Thule winter house superstructure was built of whalebone, “…especially mandibles (jawbones) and ribs. The rafters would have been covered with skins and then with turf and rocks, forming a thick insulating roof.” 11
Left: Partially reconstructed Thule house, Naalakkersuisut, Greenland 12. Center: Excavation of Thule House by Robert W. Park 11. Right: Reconstruction illustration of floor plan and profile of Thule winter House 13
My wife, Gabriella Prager, an Arctic archaeologist, took photos of some recent Inuit semi-subterranean sod houses near Clyde River, Baffin Island.
Often these structures had rock-lined semi-subterranean entrances with a rock base. This one is thought to be of Thule origin.This structure is more recent, being built within the last one-hundred years and was also likely at partially sod-covered.
‘Soddies’ on the Canadian Prairies
Early settlers from northern European countries built sod or turf houses on the North American prairies. They built with sod because they had some knowledge of this type of construction (which Scandinavian and northern European immigrants possessed). And sod of sufficient quality existed on the Canadian prairies to build them. Those reasons, coupled with often initially having little lumber to build with, resulted in the prairie turf house, or ‘soddie’, as it was lovingly named.
Left: Sod House, Hamiota, Manitoba, Canada, 1880s.14 Right: Sod House, Elk Point, Alberta, Canada.15 Many of these dwellings were temporary until there was sufficient lumber to build a wooden structure. However, in terms of insulation efficiency, the ‘soddie’ with its thick walls would have been superior as a winter abode.The James Addison sod house, near Kindersley, Saskatchewan, Canada. Perhaps one of the best preserved original sod houses in western Canada. Top left photograph of the house in 1929. Bottom right photograph of the house, clad in vinyl today. Addison built his house to last. Instead of building straight walls, his walls were sloped, four feet at the base, tapering to three feet at the top. By overlapping his sod ‘bricks’ and tapering the walls, his ‘soddie’ didn’t collapse as so many others did. For the complete story on the James Addison sod house, go to this site.16
When working for the Government of Alberta, I visited this sod house in east-central Alberta. A story I have already posted on elsewhere but worth repeating here.17 At the time this still standing soddie was being considered for National Historic designation (not sure if it ever was designated) since it’s such a rare sight in the 21st century.
This wood framed house, with sod infill for walls, was built in east-central Alberta. Perhaps one of the most unique houses I have ever seen. According to Government of Alberta files: 1907 – Homestead filed and smaller sod house built; 1910 – House built; 1911 – Exterior plastered with lime and sand, and interior finished with Beaverboard; 1950 – last occupied. (Photographs and information Courtesy of Historic Sites Service, Government of Alberta, Canada)
A close-up view of the sod infill used to fashion the walls of this house. The sod was then covered with plaster and beaverboard. Unfortunately, this exposed part of the wall now makes for a great nesting area for barn swallows. As with straw bale wall construction, the trick here is to completely seal the wall to prevent rodents or other critters from getting in. (Photographs and information Courtesy of Historic Sites Service, Government of Alberta, Canada)
Canada derives its architecture from numerous ethnic groups. What people choose for building material, construction method, and layout was often determined by a combination of things: 1) available materials and environment; 2) one’s skill and ethnic background; and, 3) occasionally one’s ingenuity in adding to traditional designs and construction methods to produce something just slightly different.
The antiquity of the turf or sod house is considerable, found on several continents, over countless millennia, and a home for many cultures. I’ll leave the last words about human architecture to American folklorist, Henry Glassie, when talking about Virginia folk housing:
“Any artifact that can be provided with associations in space and time, either by being accompanied by a document or better – as with gravestones or buildings – by being set into the land, is a valuable source of a great quantity of information.”18
“These tents, also their kettles, and some other lumber, are always carried by dogs, which are trained to that service, and very docile and tractable….These dogs are equally willing to haul in a sledge, but as few of the men will be at the trouble of making sledges for them, the poor women are obliged to content themselves with lessening the bulk of their load, more than the weight, by making the dogs carry these articles only, which are always lashed on their backs, much after the same manner as are, or used to be on, packhorses.” – Samuel Hearne, 1770s traveling with the Chipewyan. (From Hearne, S., 1958. A Journey to the Northern Ocean. Edited by R. Glover. Toronto: The Macmillan Company of Canada Limited)
I was shocked when I first read Samuel Hearne’s account of dogs among the Chipewyan of northwestern Canada. That image in my mind of the gallant team of husky dogs pulling a sled laden with goods and its musher over Canada’s frozen northern expanses was tarnished a little.
According to ethnohistorian, Dr. Patricia McCormack, in the western Subarctic the long dog train was mostly a fur trade thing, although more common in the high arctic among the Inuit long before Europeans found the New World: “In the pre-fur trade days, it was mostly women and girls, [among the Mackenzie Basin Dene] not dogs, who hauled the sleds.” (Patricia McCormack 2020:112, In Dogs in the North, Stories of Cooperation and Co-Domestication. Routledge; brackets mine).
Compare Hearne’s description of the Chipewyan dogs to this rather majestic painting of the Chipewyan hunter coming to Fort Prince of Wales in 1734 with his team of large dogs pulling a sled. Not only is the accuracy of the dog team pulling a sled this early questionable, as we shall see even the type of domestic dogs used by the Chipewyan in this painting may be inaccurate. (Painting by A. H. Hider, for a Hudson’s Bay Company Calendar, 1921)
In this post I’ll try to answer what role dogs played among Indigenous People and first Europeans in Canada? What did they look like? How long have domestic dogs been in the Americas? What historical evidence (oral, written or archaeological) exists to shed some light on their use and association with humans?
I first became interested in this topic (not only because I’m an avid dog lover) when putting together an exhibit on travel in the fur trade for our new Royal Alberta Museum. And then more recently for a novel of historical fiction I have been working on. My research revealed the history of dogs in Canada is complex. Even partly obscure. It turns out I was also getting some basic facts wrong!
This painting by famous western artist Paul Kane captures the three main modes of land travel the Cree used in the western Canadian park lands near the North Saskatchewan River, in the middle of the 19th century. Walking, riding, with horses and dogs pulling their belongings on travois. Everyone – men, women, children, horses and dogs – pitched in to move from one place to another.Plains First Nations Peoples did not use dogs to pull sleds but instead to pull travois laden with belongings and children during the summer months. But, was that all they used them for?
In this post I’ll examine some key works that shed light on the prehistory and history of dogs in Canada. Then I’ll add my two cents worth on what I’ve learned about the fur trade dogs based on the written historic and archaeological evidence I’ve examined.
Indigenous Peoples’ Dogs in Canadian Antiquity
The Prehistoric Archaeological Record
Here’s the first thing I got wrong about domestic dogs in the Americas. They weren’t originally domesticated in the Americas. According to recent evidence and theories, the first domestic dogs arrived in the Americas, probably across Beringia (land once connecting Asia and North America, now the Bering Strait) with humans. And they may have arrived very early.
In a recent article, archaeologist, Daryl Fedje and colleagues conclude from archaeological evidence recovered from Haida Gwaii, British Columbia, Canada, that the, “…domestic dog was present on Haida Gwaii by ca. 13,100 years ago…. The haplotype D6 premolar is from one of the oldest domestic dogs known from the Americas and its radiocarbon age and DNA results suggest association with a founding population.” (From Daryl Fedje, Quentin Mackie, Duncan McLaren, Becky Wigen, John Southon, 2021. “Karst Caves in Haida Gwaii: Archaeology and Paleontology at the Pleistocene-Holocene Transition.” In Quaternary Science Reviews 272.)
So, the first domestic dogs arrived in the Americas with humans. But why bring them along? And were dogs used for only pulling sleds? It appears not. By the time Europeans arrived in the New World, Indigenous cultures in the Americas used dogs for herding, hauling, hunting, wool for garments, spiritual endeavors, and companionship. Just how much of this diversification of breeds and function occurred in the Americas, as opposed to what was originally brought over from Asia, is still unknown.
And among many cultures the dog was occasionally a source of food. Either because of necessity or preference. Such as at Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta, Canada.
The following quote is from the link below: “In September 2016, Royal Alberta Museum archaeologists dug up a 1,600-year-old roasting pit at Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta. Notes from the crew: “In the foreground the edge of the roasting pit extends out of the excavation – this is what we first saw in 1990. You can see the big rocks that lined the base of the pit, plus some bison bones just above those. This meal was prepared 1,600 years ago by digging a hole, lining it with big rocks, burning a hot wood fire on the rock in the pit and let it burn down to coals, a layer of willows or similar wet brush laid on the coals, meat – in this case a bison calf and a dog placed on the brush, another layer of brush on the meat, a thin layer of dirt covered the brush and a hot fire built on top of that. It was normally allowed to cook overnight and by all accounts was tasty and tender in the morning. According to one account, bison calf cooked this way was the best food you ever tasted. In this case nobody got to taste it because the pit was mysteriously never reopened.” Courtesy: Royal Alberta Museum.”This story was first reported by Brenton Driedger, 630 CHED. For the full story go to this link. https://globalnews.ca/news/3179491/royal-alberta-museum-to-crack-open-1600-year-old-roasting-pit-with-meal-still-inside/
As my former colleague Bob Dawe of the Royal Alberta Museum pointed out when excavating this feature:
“I have a dog, and I’m sure my dog would be unhappy to hear that I’m digging up one of his ancestors….A lot of dog-lovers are a little concerned that a dog was part of the meal, and as a dog lover myself I find that a little bit bothersome, but people have been using dogs as food in the Americas for 10,000 years and they still use dogs as food all over the world.” (Bob Dawe, Royal Alberta Museum)
One would think then that after 13,000 years there should be a number of Canadian Indigenous dog breeds remaining? Currently the Canadian Kennel Club recognizes only a few ‘Canadian’ dog breeds: 1)Tahltan bear dog; 2) Canadian Inuit dog; 3) Nova Scotia duck-tolling retriever; 4) Newfoundland dog; and, 5) Labrador retriever. You can find more information about these dog breeds at this link: (https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/dog).
Only the first two breeds may be ancient, belonging to Indigenous Peoples. I’ll touch upon a few of them and then discuss Canadian Indigenous dog breeds and strains that no longer exist, and ones that emerged during the fur trade in central and western North America.
Tahltan Hunting Dogs
Among the Tahltan People of British Columbia, Canada the bear dog was an important hunting companion. In 1915, ethnographer Jame Teit pointed out they were: “…as indispensable to the Tahltan as snowshoes.”
“If you had a bear dog you could find game. If you didn’t have a bear dog, you starved.”
The historic bear dog of the Tahltan People of British Columbia, Canada, commemorated on a Canadian stamp in 1988. The dog was small, feisty, intelligent and incredibly brave and used to primarily hunt bears but also other larger game. (Courtesy Canadian Encyclopedia, https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/tahltan-bear-dog#)
Although the history is somewhat murky, this breed probably went extinct sometime in the late 1970s or 80s.
According to explorer Captain George Vancouver, when arriving on Canada’s west coast in 1792, Coastal Salish People kept Pomeranian-like dogs:
“They were all shorn as close to the skin as sheep are in England; and so compact were their fleeces, that large portions could be lifted up by a corner without causing any separation….very fine long hair [was] capable of being spun into yarn…This gave me reason to believe their woolen clothing might in part be composed of this [dog] material mixed with a finer kind of wool from some other animal …”
Central Coast Salish People weaving blankets from the wool of a little white ‘spitz-like’ dog kept specifically for that purpose. Painting by Paul Kane, 1856.
Excavations of buried house sites in the 1970s at the Makah village of Ozette on the westernmost point of today’s Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, uncovered evidence of weaving including a perfectly preserved blanket. Examination under a scanning electron microscope, revealed that dog hair was part of the weave. (Photo courtesy of the Burke Museum)
However the relationship between their blankets and their dogs was much more personal for the Salish People. Chief Janice George, who resurrected weaving among the Squamish Nation, writes:
“You should think about blankets as merged objects….They are alive because they exist in the spirit world. They are the animal. They are part of the hunter; they are part of the weaver; they are part of the wearer.”
Unfortunately this dog breed continually declined throughout the 19th century. By c.1900 it too was extinct.
Among the Inuit People, dogs were not only used for travel and hauling goods, they were also important for hunting, especially the dangerous polar bear. The Inuit hunted the large bear with long spears/lances while the dogs constantly harassed the bear to distract it.
I recently found this informative article by Thom “Swanny” Swan entitled, “Sled Dogs of the Early Canadian Fur Trade.” (http://oldschoolak.blogspot.com/2018/07/sled-dogs-of-early-canadian-fur-trade.html). In it he quotes missionary Egerton R. Young’s description of the Canadian Inuit Dog: “The pure Eskimo dog is not devoid of beauty. His compact body, well furred; his sharp-pointed, alert-looking ears; his fox-like muzzle; his good legs and firm, hard feet; his busy tail, of which he often seems so proud; and his bright, roguish eyes, place him in no mean position among the other dogs of the world. His colour varies from the purest white to jet black. I owned two so absolutely white that not a coloured hair could be found on either of them…. The working weight of my Eskimo dogs ranged from sixty to a hundred and thirty pounds. It seemed rather remarkable that some of the lighter dogs were quite equal in drawing power to others that were very much larger and heavier.” (From Young, E., 1902. My Dogs in the Northland. Fleming H. Revell Company; New York, Chicago, Toronto.)
In 1749, Peter Kalm also described Inuit dogs in Labrador: “For many centuries past they have had dogs whose ears are erected, and never hang down. They make use of them for hunting, and instead of horses in winter, for drawing their goods on the ice. They themselves sometimes ride in sledges drawn by dogs. They have no other domestic animal.” (From Kalm, P., 1772. Travels Into North America: John R, Forster, translator: Volume II: T. Lowdes, London.)
Among many western Plains Indigenous Peoples, dogs carried goods on their backs or pulled goods packed on travois. Even with the advent of the horse, dogs remained important among many Indigenous cultures, especially in northern environs where horses often struggled in the wintertime. But what kind of dogs were they? What did they look like and where did they come from?
This historic photograph taken near Fort Walsh, Saskatchewan, Canada sometime between 1878 – 1882, depicts First Nations People using both horse- and dog-drawn travois (foreground) in the summer months. (Courtesy of the Glenbow Archives, NA-354-24)
Other Canadian Dogs No Longer With Us
Hare ‘Indian’ Dog
Patricia McCormack argues that the domestic dogs among the western Mackenzie Delta Dene were nothing like the later breeds used during the fur trade specifically for hauling large loads. Or like the Arctic pulling dogs. They were built for carrying, not pulling: “…there were probably few or no sled dogs before Europeans arrived in the Subarctic.” (From McCormack 2020:107).
Historic descriptions of Indigenous dogs of the Subarctic do not resemble later dogs in the fur trade, or the Arctic Inuit dogs. These dogs were of, “…various sizes and colours, but all of the fox and wolf breed, with sharp noses, full brushy tails, and sharp ears standing erect…” (Samuel Hearne, 1770s describing Chipewyan dogs. From Hearne, 1958).
According to John Richardson, traveling among the Dene in 1829:
The Hare Indian Dog has a mild countenance, with, at times, an expression of demureness. It has a small head, slender muzzle; erect, thickish ears; somewhat oblique eyes; rather slender legs, and broad hairy foot, with a bushy tail, which it usually carries curled over its right hip. It is covered with long hair, particularly about the shoulder, and at the roots of the hair, both on the body and tail, there is thick wool.” (Dr. John Richardson, 1829. In Fauna Boreali-Americana; or the Zoology of the Northern Parts of British America. London: John Murray)
Richardson provides considerably more detail on the breed, but fortunately also provides us with a detailed drawing what it looked like.
Hare Indian Dog sketched by Dr. John Richardson, 1829.
Patricia McCormack thinks: “The Hare Indian Dog may have resembled a small Siberian Husky or very small Alaskan Malamute.” Richardson stated this dog was used primarily for hunting, “…being too small to be useful as a beast of burthen or draught.” (Richardson 1829).
North American Dog
The North American Dog is more associated with northern Plains Indigenous Peoples and Peoples living in the southern parts of the Subarctic. According to McCormack, the size of this dog was somewhere between the Inuit dogs and Hare Indian dogs. It was not as strong as the Inuit dog and less affectionate than the Hare Indian dogs.
Image of a Blackfoot dog, similar to the North American Dog, pulling a travois. “The fur of the North American Dog is similar to that of the Esquimaux breed and of the wolves. The prevailing colours are black and gray, mixed with white. Some of them are entirely black. Their thick woolly coat forms an admirable protection against the cold.” (From https://images.library.amnh.org/digital/items/show/25587)
Image of an Arikara dog, c. 1880s. (Courtesy of North American Indian Photograph Collection. MS 35)
McCormack thinks by fur trade times this type of dog (perhaps later interbred with heavier European breeds) eventually pulled sleds, carried loads and occasionally was eaten by French Canadian Voyageurs and First Nations Peoples. Northern Indigenous Peoples only started using sled dogs in the 19th century. For example, according to George Franklin, the Dog Rib People of the Mackenzie River District started using dogs to pull sleds between 1824 and 1826.
For more information on the Mackenzie River Basin dogs, read McCormack’s excellent chapter entitled, “An Ethnohistory of dogs in the Mackenzie Basin (Western Subarctic).” In Dogs in the North, Stories of Cooperation and Co-Domestication. Routledge.
Dogs in the Fur Trade
I had one other question (aside from what they looked like and where they came from) about the fur trade dogs pulling sleds. Where did the fur traders learn to use dogs to carry or pull sleds? If dogs teams pulling sleds in the fur trade didn’t originate among western Indigenous Peoples living on the Canadian Plains and Subarctic, then where did the practice come from? From the research Thom Swan conducted, French Canadians used dog teams to pull sleds as early as the late 1600s.
This historic image reveals a lot about winter conditions and travel in the Canadian West. For many months of the year the canoe, which was instrumental in traveling to the Canadian northwest, was not always the way to go. Nor were horses. Dogs, especially during the wintertime, became a very important form of transportation. (Courtesy of the Glenbow Archives, NA-1185-13)
For example, in 1688-89 LaHontan observed sleds “drawn by great dogs” in Quebec. By the 18th century sled dogs became even more important in French Canada. According to Peter Kalm in 1749: “In winter it is customary in Canada, for travellers to put dogs before little sledges, made on purpose to hold their cloathes, provisions, &c. Poor people commonly employ them on their winter-journies, and go on foot themselves. Almost all the wood, which the poorer people in this country fetch out of the woods in winter, is carried by dogs, which have therefore got the name of horses of the poor people. They commonly place a pair of dogs before each load of wood. I have, likewise seen some neat little sledges, for ladies to ride in, in winter; they are drawn by a pair of dogs, and go faster on a good road, than one would think. A middle-sized dog is sufficient to draw a single person, when the roads are good.” (From Kalm, P., 1772. Travels Into North America: John R, Forster, translator: Volume II: T. Lowdes, London.)
Many French Canadians came west with the fur trade in the late 18th century possibly bringing with them the practice of dog sledding. This however begs the question. Where did they pick up the practice since it certainly didn’t originate in Europe? According to some authorities, they learned of it from the Inuit People who had more actively practiced it for centuries. In fact as Kalm’s earlier quote suggests French Canadians adopted it from Inuit People in Labrador.
It was from these Indigenous dog strains, especially the North American dog eventually mixed with European breeds to make them bigger and stronger, that the fur trade dog emerged. Loads became bigger, requiring larger, stronger and more dogs. Winter on the Canadian prairies and northern boreal forests were harsh. Horses were not as tough, tractable or as fast as a good dog team. And special provisions (hay and shelter) were required for them to survive during the severe Canadian winters.
There are numerous quotes and images about dogs in the fur trade. Some of the most insightful and humorous ones come from people visiting the 19th century Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton, in central Alberta, Canada. Fort Edmonton had one of the largest dog populations in the West. It was one of the few forts I know of that had separate dog kennels and even a dog handler or keeper. As some of the following statements suggest, both good and bad things came from this ‘cozy’ arrangement.
For example, in 1862 Alexander Fortune commented on the importance of the Edmonton dogs: “In the Fort were some six hundred dogs belonging to the Company or their employees. Dogs were used on toboggans by the Company and in case of failure of buffalo meat, dogs were used for food. They were held in great esteem there. In fact they were often used in place of horses, taking in provisions from the plains, when the snow was too crusted or unfit for horses to travel. Such howling and barking as these dogs indulged in was terrifying and disagreeable.” (From: Fortune, A. L., The Overland Trip from Ontario to Edmonton 1862. University of British Columbia, Special Collections and University Archives.)
Further north along the Peace River, at Fort St. John’s in 1822, the one horse the HBC owned languished in the barn most of the winter while dog teams hauled back thousands of pounds of meat to feed the fort population. “They are a long way off, this man has been six days coming….A long way to go for meat….when living themselves and their dogs for so long time on their way.” (December 24th, 1822, HBC Fort St. John’s Journals)
The Earl of Southesk, while visiting Fort Edmonton, also mentioned the large pack of fort dogs. His description suggests that the fort strains were large, resembling wolves:
“There are more dogs here than any other place I know. They are mostly of the Indian kind, large, and long-legged, and wolfish, with sharp muzzles, pricked ears, and thick, straight, wiry hair….Most of them are very wolfish in appearance, many being half or partly, or all but entirely wolves in blood….” (From: Southesk, J. C., 1875. Saskatchewan and Rocky Mountains: A Diary and Narrative of Travel, Sport, and Adventure, During a Journey Through the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Territories in 1859 and 1860. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas)
Southesk continues to describe how important a dog team was for hauling goods:
“In winter these dogs draw sleighs and do nearly all of the work of the country….they are highly valued by their owners, and a team of fine, good, well-trained dogs will bring a handsome price, especially when the winter snows begin to come on.” (Early of Southesk, 1859)
In fact, according to missionary John McDougall, despite the constant howling and fighting among the dogs at Fort Edmonton, all the men could think about was their dogs: “The sole topic of conversation would be dogs. The speed and strength and endurance of a dogtrain occupied the thoughts of most men, either sleeping or waking.” (From: McDougall, J., 1971. Parsons on the Plains. Don Mills: Longman Canada Ltd.)
In the fur trade the dogs’ main purpose was to move goods, people and information from one place to another. Messages, letters and other types of information were carried by dog teams to the various western forts. Paul Kane describes these trains and the manner of sledding: “Two men go before [the lead dog] on the run in snowshoes to beat a track, which the dogs instinctively follow: these men are relieved every two hours, as it is very laborious.…We had three carioles and six sledges, with four dogs to each, forming when en route a long and picturesque cavalcade.” Painting by Paul Kane, 1848, of a wedding party leaving Fort Edmonton.
A dog team in front of the Big House, HBC Fort Edmonton, December, 1871. A good team of dogs was indispensable in the winter time. These dogs resemble more the North American dog than the Inuit dogs (Photograph by Charles Horetzky, Library and Archives of Canada, c-7474.)A depiction of the HBC’s Fort Edmonton, c.1865, showing the dog kennels located in the southwest corner of the fort. According to a number of informants, if the constant barking and howling wasn’t enough to drive you mad, the stench exuding from keeping over 100 dogs in the forts was certainly the last straw. While the later fort had an enclosed area for the dogs, Alexander Ross visiting Fort Edmonton in 1823, seems to imply the entire fort acted as a ‘kennel’: “…the wife might go without her blanket; but the husband must have his dogs, and the dogs their ribbons and their bells!…The custom, however reprehensible in this point of view, is equally so in others; for the nuisance of their presence in a fort is beyond endurance; they are the terror of every woman and child after dark. Nor can a stranger step from one door to another without being interrupted by them; and, worst of all, the place is kept like a kennel; in wet weather the horrid stench is intolerable.” (Journal of Alexander Ross, 1855, Fur Hunters of the Canadian West: A Narrative of Adventures in Oregon and Rocky Mountains.)
A good team of dogs became a source of pride and prestige in fur trade society. Even by the 1820s in the Peace River Country, fort employees while traveling, preferred starvation over eating their precious dog team: “Two men arrived from New Caledonia on the 15th they were 21 days coming starved very much reduced to eating shoes and even a pair of leather Trousers one of them had.” (February 6th, 1823, HBC Fort St. John’s Journals)
And eventually these mushers began racing their dogs to see who had the fastest team. In the 1870s Metis, Peter Erasmus, describes preparations for dog races below Fort Edmonton on the frozen North Saskatchewan River. They attracted some of the best dog ‘mushers’ in the Canadian West: “The preparations the week before Christmas took on a new tempo of activity. Every dog driver and team were rushing supplies of fish to the fort for the dog trains of the expected visitors….The two days before Christmas was a bedlam of noise as each new dog team arrived. Every arrival was a signal for all the dogs of the fort and those of the Crees camped nearby to raise their voices in a deafening uproar of welcome or defiance as their tempers dictated…” (From: Erasmus, P., 1976. Buffalo Days and Nights. Calgary: Glenbow-Alberta Institute.)
Painting of dog teams meeting by Frederick Remington. Remington painted northern scenes (some as far north as Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada) during the 19th century. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-1185-10)
The Dog’s New Role in the Fur Trade – Speed and Endurance
As the fur trade spread across northwestern Canada, not only were dogs indispensable for hauling goods on sleds, often surpassing horses, they took on a new role – that of quickly moving mail to the many fur trade posts scattered over a territory covering thousands of miles. Not only were tough dogs needed, now speed and endurance became important.
Already in the 1820s travel and communications between the northern Peace River Posts was important. In 1822 Hugh Faries, in charge of Fort St. John’s (near the present-day Fort St. John’s, British Columbia, Canada), together with four other men traveled downriver to Dunvegan in two days. The distance between the two forts is approximately 125km (~76 miles) along the river. The dog teams and their men traveled about 63km (38 miles) a day.
What I find remarkable about these and other stories I’ve read, is not only the strength and fitness of the dogs, but also the fitness of the mushers. In deep snow they broke trail for the dogs or ran beside the sleighs instead of riding on the back. They wore many thin layers of clothing that breathed well in freezing temperatures, so as not to capture the moisture off their bodies and freeze on the clothing. The wool capote became a very necessary article for travel.
According to Metis, Norbert Welsh, on the Canadian prairies the sled dogs were not ‘Eskimo’ dogs, but very strong:
“I had my dogs well harnessed, plenty of bells on them and ribbons flying all over. These dogs were of common breed—we could not get Eskimo dogs—but they were strong. Each dog could pull four hundred pounds and race with it. I had a young Indian driving one team. We went very fast over the plains. Sometimes we would ride on the sleigh, and sometimes we would run beside or behind it.” (Compiled by Lawrence Barkwell, Louis Riel Institute. Quote from Mary Weekes, 1994. The Last Buffalo Hunter (Account of Norbert Welsh), Calgary: Fifth House)
This mail service was known as the ‘Winter Packet’. The ‘packet’ was a heavy leather case used to transport mail, reports and orders to and from Rupert’s Land to the Governor and Council in London, England. Dogs now took on a new role in the Canadian West – Movers of Information.
According to J. J. Hargrave: “The starting of the Northern Packet from Red River is one of the great annual events of the Colony. It occurs generally about 10th December, when the ice having been thoroughly formed and the snow fallen, winter travelling is easy and uninterrupted. The packet arrangements are such that every post in the Northern Department is communicated with through its agency. The means of transit are sledges and snowshoes. The sledges are drawn by magnificent dogs, of which there are three or four to each vehicle, whose neatly fitting harness, though gaudy in appearance, is simple in design and perfectly adapted to its purposes, while the little bells attached thereto, bright looking and clearly ringing, cheer the flagging spirits of men and animals through the long run of a winter day.” (From J. J. Hargrave, 1871. Red River)
In 1878, N. M. W. J. McKenzie, a former servant of the Company, wrote:
“The greatest of all trips was the winter mail packet from Montreal to the mouth of the Mackenzie river in the Arctic Ocean, by dogs. The packet had to go through on time at all cost….Three men and two dog trains generally ran it through, the extra man always ahead on snowshoes when the snow was either too deep or too soft for the dogs to make time.
This was the trip that proved who the best man and best dogs were for that winter, and their fame would be all over the country before next winter.” (From N. M. W. J. McKenzie, 1921. The Men of the Hudson’s Bay Company, 1670-1920. Ft. William : [Times-Journal Presses.)
AND YOU THOUGHT CANADA POST WAS SLOW!
The mail must go through. Dog teams carrying mail between fur trade posts. (Courtesy of Provincial Archives of Manitoba, William Rackham. N21206.)
Dogs Continue into the 20th Century
The role of dogs, as a primary mode of travel, steadily declined during the 20th century. But in many parts of the Canadian North, with no roads or rails, they continued to be important. Especially in the winter.
At the turn of the 20th century, other private entrepreneurs set up trading businesses in northern Alberta and the Northwest Territories to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company. One of those men was Edward Barry Nagle. In 1887 he joined James Hislop to develop the Hislop and Nagle fur trading company along the Athabasca River and Mackenzie River. For more about this man and his exploits, read: The Prospector: North of Sixty (biography), Lone Pine Publishing (Edmonton, Alberta, Canada), 1989, by Jordan Zinovich.
Ed was an avid dog lover and had some incredible dog teams. Fortunately for us, he left behind a large collection of photographs of his dog teams from that time period. A few are worth publishing here for what they reveal about the breeds and their use.
Ed Nagle and his water spaniel. Date unknown. Exotic dog breeds were brought into the Canadian Northwest, and either accidentally or deliberating breeding with local Indigenous dog populations. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-109)
Title: Ed Nagle, seated in sleigh; dog team driver, Mr. Dussel, standing. Annotated: ‘Mackenzie River huskies bred by Ed Nagle. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-59)
Dog teams leaving Hislop and Nagle Company post, Fort Resolution, Northwest Territories. These dogs resemble more the Canadian dogs than the northern Inuit dogs. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-60)
Arrival of first airplane in Aklavik, Northwest Territories. Date unknown. The Canadian North was virtually inaccessible, but the airplane soon helped change that. But on land, as this photograph shows, the dog teams were ready to move the goods to the settlement. New and old technologies meet. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-1258-73)
With the introduction of new economies, pulling sled dogs became pulling plow dogs in the north. This is one of the unusual photographs of a dog team pulling a plow at Fort Rae that I have ever run across. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-4552-8)
Dog Paraphernalia and Sleds
Dog paraphernalia began to appear with the introduction and development of dog teams in the fur trade. And continued into the 20th century. Many of you probably haven’t heard of ‘standing irons’, or ‘tuppies’ – decorated iron rods and fancy blankets decorated with bright colored ribbons and cloth. Sleigh bells were also attached around the dog’s neck, irons, or tuppies. Often before the team arrived at the fort the dogs were decked out in their best attire: “Three days later our dogs, bearing the smartest of dog cloths and with sleigh bells ringing merrily, rattled into Edmonton….” (From Warburton Pike 1892. The Barren Ground of Northern Canada. New York: Macmillan & Co.)
The Dene and Metis took dog paraphernalia to a different level using elaborate tufted and beaded floral motifs on their dog tuppies (which originated from the word, Tapis, meaning a tapestry or richly decorated cloth, used as a hanging or a covering). This Dene dog blanket dates between 1878 – 1900. (Courtesy of: Saskatchewan, History, population, news, stories and events of La Loche and the North-West, “Metis and Dene dog blankets and bells.”) (http://portagelaloche.blogspot.com/2012/02/metis-dog-blankets.html)
“…all the dogs gaudily decorated with saddle-cloths of various colors, fringed and embroidered in the most fantastic manner, with innumerable small bells and feathers…Our carioles were also handsomely decorated…” (Paul Kane, 1967. Wanderings of an Artist Among the Indians of North America Edmonton: Hurtig, 1967: 270-271)
A painting by Peter Rindisbacher, 1820s, Red River area, showing a dog team decked out in their tuppies, bells, and standing irons.This dog team, belonging to Ed Nagle, along the North Saskatchewan River, just below Fort Edmonton, wearing their tuppies, bells and feathers. The fur trade dog teams became more than carrying goods and services. A man with a good dog team was rich in many ways. (Courtesy Provincial Archives of Alberta, B5707)
In many of the above historic images you see two types of dog sleds: 1) the open sled, resembling a toboggan; and, 2) the carriole, often ornately decorated. According to Danelle Cloutier: “The term “carriole” was first used to refer to horse-drawn sleighs, especially the lightweight open sleighs used in French Canada. Throughout the fur trade era, the term described toboggan-style sleds with sides made from hide or canvas and birch boards for planking.” (From Danelle Cloutier, 2016. Canada’s History: https://www.canadashistory.ca/explore/transportation/hbc-carriole
These two images (only partial of the original) by painter Peter Rindisbacher of the buffalo hunt (left) and of a gentleman traveling in a dog carriole (right). These were the two primary types of sleds that dog teams pulled in the fur trade. There are numerous references in the fur trade journals of the men cutting birch to make sleds as winter approached.
Preparing for the journey between Fort Garry and Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. The carriole has Norway written on it probably signifying Norway House, Manitoba. The distance between Fort Garry and Norway House was about 433Km (262.4 miles) which some teams covered in about nine days mostly over the frozen waters of lake Winnipeg. Which comes to about 48km (29 miles) per day. (Courtesy of Archives of Manitoba)
For the most part both dog teams, sleds, nor their mushers were ornately decorated when carrying out the more mundane, everyday tasks in the winter. In many northern regions, larger, stronger dogs were bred to haul larger, heavier loads. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-4433-15)
The Fur Trade Archaeological Evidence
Artifacts
When excavating at fur trade sites in western Canada we find few direct traces of dogs in the archaeological record. However, there are exceptions. At the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830), and a few other fur trade posts, we found sleigh bells similar to those shown in historic paintings and photographs used for dog teams. And we found thousands of small glass colored seed beads at those forts. Some of these beads were likely used to adorn those tuppies.
This silver sleigh bell was uncovered in an old abandoned cellar at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c/1798 – 1830) site.
Glass trade beads called ‘seed’ beads came in a variety of colors. These beads are either from a horse blanket or tuppie. They were recovered from the HBC Fort Victoria (c.1864 -1898), a small outpost approximately 100km downriver from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
Animal Bones
I’ve also examined faunal remains recovered from the various fur trade forts in Alberta. In almost every fort faunal assemblage we identified canid bones mixed in with other wild game animal bones. The problem we have is distinguishing between wolf and domestic dog from just the skeletal remains.
In the Table below I simply lumped the bones into Canid, which could be either dog or wolf. Canid remains make up between one and three percent of all the animal bones we find. Also the Table shows: 1) Northern Alberta forts have a higher percentage of canid remains than the Central Alberta forts; and, 2) Early Period (c.1780s – 1830) forts have a higher percentage of canid remains than later period forts.
Fur Trade Posts
Canid NISP
Total NISP
% Canid
Northern Posts
249
7924
3.1
Central Posts
155
9223
1.0
Early Posts
313
11758
2.7
Late Posts
85
6138
1.4
HBC Fort Edmonton
27
1115
2.4
HBC Fort Victoria
18
610
3.0
Percentages were calculated by dividing Canid NISP (number of identifiable specimens) by Total NISP (number of identifiable specimens). Canid could be either dog or wolf. The two are very difficult to identify positively from faunal remains. Given the context however, most of the specimens are likely domestic dog. The reasons for the differences in these percentages is more difficult to determine without more carefully examining their context and the bones (which currently I was unable to do). More dog remains in the archaeological record might simply reflect more dogs at the posts or they reflect greater selection of dogs, for example, for eating.
While some of these bones may represent the natural deaths of dogs living at the posts, others invariably ended up in the fort cooking pots when times got tough and other food was in short supply:
“The men all hunting and fishing, but very unlucky….We are now in a very alarming situation, not having a mouthful to eat. The children are always going about the fort crying for something to eat.” (Journal entries, NWC Fort Dunvegan, northern Alberta, Canada, 1806)
Also, along the North Saskatchewan River, 1859 was particularly tough according to William Gladstone, visiting Fort Edmonton:
“…the men sent by the Boss to the plains came back empty-handed. For two weeks we starved and then a lot of us bought a couple of dogs from the Stoney Indians and killed them. Dog meat is not bad as any one can tell you who has eaten sausages.” (From William Gladstone, 1985. The Gladstone Diary. Travels in the Early West. Lethbridge: Historic Trails Society of Alberta)
Looking Ahead
Both the historic records and the archaeological remains are informative about the presence and importance of dogs for both Indigenous and Euro-Canadians. But they leave a lot to be desired. We still can’t answer some basic questions about dogs in the fur trade, or earlier, even though we have considerable numbers of bones to work with (but unfortunately not at prehistoric archaeological sites). We can’t even accurately identify these remains to genus level (i.e., wolf or dog).
This somewhat frustrating state of affairs led me recently to contact one of the foremost experts on prehistoric domesticated dogs, Dr. Robert J. Losey, University of Alberta. I asked Dr. Losey whether DNA samples taken from those bones might be more informative than what we had discovered about dogs so far. Here’s his response:
“Study of the nuclear DNA of these canids would definitely identify them as dogs, wolves, or coyotes, and even provide evidence for hybrids or earlier introgressions between the three species. If the right portions of the genome are targeted, such studies could also reveal details about coat color, body size, and even adaptation to starch-rich diets. In a few cases, DNA studies are now even focusing on the microbiomes of ancient dogs, revealing how their digestive systems are adapting to human food environments.”
So, in the future by applying DNA research to the fur trade canid remains, we may be able to answer some basic questions about them that we currently can’t:
more accurately determining whether they are dog, wolf, or coyote;
whether the dogs got bigger over time as the historic records suggest;
what regional and temporal differences existed among the dog breeds;
the rate that European breeds were being introduced into the local strains.
I’m confident that with these advanced techniques the next decade will bring answers to some of these questions.
Our Vanishing Canadian Dog Breeds
We have already lost a number of Canadian dogs breeds: 1) the Salish woolly dog; 2) Tahltan hunting dog; 2) Hare Indian dog; 3) North American dog. There likely were others over the last 14,000 years or longer that have left no record. And they were lost for various reasons – changing economies and technology, disease, and interbreeding, to name a few.
As Thom Swan points out, the Canadian Inuit dog only survives because of efforts of a few determined people to save it: “The breed might have gone extinct if not for the efforts of the Eskimo Dog Research Foundation created by William Carpenter and John McGrath. The foundation purchased dogs from remote Inuit camps and began breeding them to increase their numbers.”
Swan has also has tried to replicate the now extinct North American dog from the historic descriptions. His two dogs, Orion and Capella, are examples of the North American dogs used by northern Indigenous peoples; perhaps for centuries.
I am one of the thirty-two percent of Canadian households who owns at least one dog. I’m a spaniel guy and love the breed for both their hunting abilities and companionship. In Canada over the centuries the domestic dog served many purposes for many people. And came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. But we all probably shared one common thing with our dogs – their constant, devoted companionship.
“When the Man waked up he said, ‘What is Wild Dog doing here?’ And the Woman said, ‘His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always.’” — Rudyard Kipling
Our English Springer Spaniels at Blackgold Kennels, 2014. From front to back: Laser (deceased), Keagan (deceased), Ceili (deceased), and Pepsi.
I like stories and movies where there is a really good guy/gal and then there’s the ‘dark side‘. Oh, is that phrase copy-righted? Can I use it without citing someone? Do I need permission from whoever wrote it in Hollywood to use it? I’m a little sensitive about the topic of sourcing right now.
Will I be accused of plagiarism or ‘scraping’? I’ll get into that later.
I guess, at the age of sixty-eight I’m still a little naive about some things in the world (actually, could be a lot of things). Like thinking that out there in the real world there’s no true ‘dark side’. It just exists in the minds of those movie types in Hollywood. Right? Right.
Until my website got hacked a number of times. It’s still happening. It’s affecting a lot of what I do, and want to do on this site. Then it dawned on me. When it comes to the cyber world there is a truly dark side. It’s a world where bad people do evil things to your material without ever having to face you or an adversary.
Material for this post was generated when I wanted to monetize my site. That’s right. Run a few ads and make a few bucks to cover my costs. Should be no big deal. Right? Right.
While in the process of attempting to monetize this site, I was accused of two nasty things:
Plagiarism and Making Stuff Up
In my world, either when I publish an article in a journal or post a story, those are pretty nasty accusations.
A Few Ethical Issues With Blogging
The use and publication of other peoples’ or organizations’ material is a serious matter. If you look at the literature written about the code of ethics for bloggers, it states you should always cite your sources or get permission to use the material you post. It’s almost impossible not to use other peoples’ information. It’s essential when writing that the topic being written about be given some context. And context often means citing other people who have researched or written on the topic previously. And, it’s not always simple to cite them properly.
If I use the following quote from the Hudson’s Bay Archives (HBCA), for example, I should credit them for it. Like this:
April 6th, 1822. “The advantages of this place are very few over any other except it is that ground is tilled for our gardens and being a critical place for the Natives to bring their find.” (HBCA B.224/e/1)
There. As far as I’m concerned that’s done. In academia when we use other peoples’ material, or historic material, to either support, refute, or move our research or story along, we simply cite them and that’s the end of it.
If it’s a historic painting, or quote, and you know the source, cite or credit the source and move on. I always try to do that in my posts. Sometimes I forget, but rarely. Sometimes sourcing stuff is really hard. There are grey areas.
This example is tougher to source, or even use. I haven’t read anything that says I can’t use this image of an Edmonton map from Google. It says Google right on the map. Is that enough or am I breaking copyright rules? I truly don’t know. If we had to stop and search sources and get permission for every single thing we write, nothing would get done. Or, we would simply not cite anyone or anything and then be accused of ‘making stuff up’.
As an author who has published considerably, I’m always flattered when someone uses my material and cites me (unless of course, they trash me). Actually I get more pissed off when they don’t cite my work when I think they should.
This brings me to my little problem. I’ll let you be the judge. Guilty or not? It all comes down to my credibility as a blogger, and how I present my material. Maybe I have to be more careful or thorough when posting in the future.
So I Wanted to Monetize My Site
The trouble all started the other day when I wanted to install a monetizing plugin called ‘Google Adsense.’ This program searches for relevant advertising for my web site and then puts those ads on my pages or posts.
The catch with Adsense is you have to qualify to install it on your website. So, I applied and was rejected. Twice. The first time early on in my blogging days for not having enough site content. Fair enough. One post won’t do it. Fixed that.
The second time recently I was accused of plagiarizing and not backing up my facts. Or ‘making stuff up’, as one reviewer commented. After trying to find out what the source of this accusation was all about, I finally got some of the following comments from Google’s ‘experts’.
Here’s what one so-called gold product expert (according to Google) had to say about my website:
” Corona virus infection has lost millions of lives in the world” I won’t be accepted. You are copying a lot of news reports (and images) from other sites and/or just making stuff up.”
“Hi heinz pyszczyk, A reply was marked as a recommended answer to a subscribed question:
Your posts are far too short to be usable by Adsense, and you cannot have ANY copied stuff if you want to monetise a site.
As for making things up – the quote above is untrue. The current corona virus hasn’t lost millions of lives. Hopefully it won’t. I didn’t see that particular quote, but I saw one very short post giving figures that were mostly wrong. The post said (if the translation system is correct) that some countries n Europe had more than 90,000 deaths. Not true. It said that 5 million people have recovered. Where did you get that from?? Although it’s likely that large numbers have recovered without ever being tested, there is no reliable information. Of those tested and quoted on the worldometers site, which is probably the most reliable for information, around 560,000 have recovered.”
Well, folks, as most of you know, I’ve never written a word about the corona virus on any of my website posts. And my posts are too short? Are you kidding me? Too long, if anything. And I don’t support my information? Really?
Yet, Kukana (above), whoever the hell she is, judges my website as being unreliable, citing this shit. Kukana, if you understand English, which I doubt very much you do, then listen carefully. Please go to my website and actually read the content before making stupid statements like this. If you even exist.
Here’s another one. From busterjet. Now, I’m new to this stuff, so his comments were a bit of an eyeopener:
“Hi heinz pyszczyk, A reply was marked as a recommended answer to a subscribed question:
You have a “new scraper” site, a common form of spam, so there is no chance AdSense advertisers will sponsor this content even if the information is factual.”
But, the corona virus stuff is not my information. I didn’t write it. A ‘new scraper’ site? What is that exactly? Is he suggesting I’m the ‘scraper’? After talking to my computer people, it’s likely that I’ve been hacked. Someone’s doing shitty little stuff using my website name. Thanks busterjet.
In the cyber business this stuff happens. More people from the ‘dark side‘ (sorry, don’t know who to cite here for use of this phrase) are visiting my site, than actual readers. But what gets me is that Google and their so-called experts judge my site, never having read my content. How could they have? Not a post or word ever about the corona virus is on my website.
And now I’m probably on their permanent shit list. After this post, probably forever. You’ve read many of my posts. Anything on corona virus? Is this fair? I’m thinking Kukana is probably some kind of ‘foreign’ bot. Or, someone’s ‘making this stuff up’.
Based on these statements, as it stands that’s what I’m accused of. Plagiarizing and ‘making stuff up’. At least in Google’s eyes.
The most frustrating thing is, you can’t engage these experts long enough to get to the bottom of this pile. They’re like phantoms. Here now, and then gone mysteriously into the Ethernet. I’ve emailed them back requesting more information, but nothing. It’s all so automated and impersonal. Sickening.
I hope you’re listening Google. How can you not be? You snoop into everything else on line. If I started showing interest in crocheting, suddenly a lot of articles and advertisements would pop up on the computer about crocheting. And you judge others about ethics? Your little bots are running around right now watching my every key stroke.
And to you my readers, sorry (a very Canadian response). Maybe not quite the Canadian story you expected, but a very Canadian reaction!
On the morning of April 2, 1885, Cree leader, Wandering Spirit and his men attacked the small settlement of Frog Lake, near today’s Saskatchewan-Alberta border. Eight people died and three were taken captive. Fear of further attacks by First Nations and Metis in the region triggered action by the NWMP (North West Mounted Police) and the Canadian Government.
A few traces of the potential uprising in Alberta still linger on the landscape. But you have to look real hard, and know where to look.
If you’re feeling a little house-bound, like most of us are these days, drive to Millet or Wetaskiwin, Alberta. Then continue on Hwy. 2A, until you reach Township Road 270. Turn east and shortly you will reach RR 241A. Turn north.
The Location of Fort Ethier marked by a yellow X. The blockhouse sits just south of Bigstone Creek.
Just before you cross Bigstone Creek, look to the right side of the road. There sitting beside the road is an old log blockhouse built along the former Calgary-Edmonton trail. It is the only remaining reminder of the 1885 North-West Rebellion in the region.
This is Fort Ethier, or what’s left of it, named after Captain Leander Joseph Ethier of the 65th Battalion Mount Royal Rifles. It was one of three such forts built in 1885 along the Edmonton-Calgary trail, in case trouble broke out. It never did.
Today not much remains of Fort Ethier. Except this wooden log blockhouse which has somehow still miraculously survived since it was constructed in June, 1885. There never was much to begin with. Military ditches were said to have been built around this structure, but they are no longer visible today.
The two storey squared log blockhouse still stands by what was the old Calgary-Edmonton Trail. I’ve looked out the loopholes for shooting on the second storey. The original ditches could also still be present, just filled in or cultivated over. Occasionally new logs are added as old ones rot away.Standing on the former Calgary-Edmonton Trail, looking south across Bigstone Creek towards Fort Ethier, barely discernible through the trees.
Other Military Forts Along the Calgary-Edmonton Trail
In 1885, the Canadian Government sent troops to Calgary to quell the potential uprising. Once the 65th Battalion Mount Royal Rifles, under Captain Leander Joseph Ethier, arrived in Calgary, they were joined by the Alberta Field Force under Major General Thomas Bland Strange. It was Strange’s job to keep peace in the North West Territories. Strange marched his men north along the Calgary-Edmonton Trail and established two more forts along the way: Fort Normandeau and Fort Ostell.
Image of the Calgary-Edmonton Trail showing key places along the way. Fort Normandeau was built near the current City of Red Deer. Fort Ostell lies just south of Panoka and the Battle River. (Image from the Forth Junction Project.)
Just how these somewhat comedic little forts were supposed to stop an uprising is hard to imagine when viewing them today.
Fort Normandeau
Fort Normandeau, erected in 1885 near Red Deer Crossing in preparation for a potential invasion. It consisted of a log building, surrounded by a palisade and two blockhouses perched on top of the walls for defense. The fort has been totally reconstructed.
Fort Ostell
A map of Fort Ostell, constructed in 1885, just south of Panoka, Alberta. Ditches and moats surrounded one building and a few tents for the men. The entire fort was surround by a ditch and an abitas (pointed posts placed in the ground facing out). (Map courtesy of Fort Ostell Museum).Example of an abitas and ditch behind it constructed by the Union Army at Petersburg, USA, 1865. (Photograph [PD-Expired])
Preparations at HBC Fort Victoria
These were the only three purely military establishments constructed in Alberta. They never saw action. Preparations for possible trouble were also undertaken at a few of Hudson’s Bay Company forts, after Cree insurgents plundered the HBC posts at Lac La Biche and Green Lake.
Image of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Victoria, c.1890s. The 1864 clerk’s quarters (still standing) on the right. The trading shop on the left. (An Ernest Brown photograph).Excavations at Fort Victoria in 1975. My colleague, Rod Vickers, and I mapping the southeast corner of the fort. Here we found a series of trenches and post pits, suggesting the corner may have undergone some major re-modifications to better fortify it. These activities might have been a response to prepare for future trouble at the fort. But, despite our best efforts, we never came up with a suitable explanation for these rather peculiar features. HBC inspector Kanis’s 1884 survey sketch of the fort definitely shows some sort of feature on the southeast corner. The sketch however, is too small to make out any details.
Preparations at Fort Edmonton
Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton, 1884. Because parts of the north walls had blown down that spring, due to dilapidation, the men began to dismantle the rest of the walls that summer. Only to realize in 1885, that they had to rebuilt them again to prepare for possible trouble. (Photograph, Saskatchewan Archives Board, A186, VIII.I)
The degree of preparedness at many forts is almost laughable, had the threat not been so real. The Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Edmonton was no exception. In his book, Fort de Prairies – The Story of Fort Edmonton, author Brock Silversides recounts a number of events in preparation for possible trouble.
There was plenty of superstition among the people as tensions increased. Strange events took place around the fort, and the occasional random shot was fired near it. Or at it. The fort arsenal consisted of too few, or obsolete, guns and ammunition that didn’t work.
A cry went out to Ottawa to send troops to protect the fort and the settlement. With the help of the NWMP, under the command of Captain A. H. Griesbach, the stockades were eventually rebuilt. Then the settlers from the surrounding area moved in and by summer General Strange’s battalion reached Edmonton.
The Fort Cannons That Never Fired
Fort Edmonton’s two, four pound cannons, set on wagon wheels, ready for action. “Two brass cannons, mounted on heavy, home-made wheels, which are slowly and surely dropping to ruin and decay, ominously hold a position on the bank of the river in front of the fort, and from the stamp upon them were manufactured by T. T. King, London, 1810.” (from J. Hewgill, 1893, school inspector, territories; photograph by Ernest Brown, Edmonton, 1884)
But perhaps some of the funniest incidents involved the fort’s two four pound brass cannons during this time of potential crisis. Although they were fired at New Years, as a salute when large parties of First Nations came to trade, or rare practice drills, they were never fired on an enemy in defense of the fort.
One thing becomes very clear when reading about a series of incidents involving the cannons – no one really knew what they were doing when either loading them or firing them. The following account in 1885 certainly supports this assertion.
“The only time I saw these guns in action was under the following circumstances: on the first of May, General Strange, G.O.C., the Alberta Field Force marched into Edmonton with elements of the 65th Carabineers from Montreal, and elements of the Winnipeg Light Infantry. It was proposed to fire a salute from the high ground in front of Fort Edmonton….The troops had marched down the road through the spring greenery and were crowding on board the ferry on the south side of the Saskatchewan River; the bottle-green of the 65th and the scarlet of the Light Infantry making quite a pretty picture….Muchiass was yelling instructions to everybody and doing everything himself. He became a bit confused as to which gun he had fired last. He proceeded to ram a charge of powder down a gun that was ready to fire and was engaged in the ramming process when the gunner on the that gun applied the hot-iron to the touch-hole. Muchiass had wit enough to jump aside and let go of the rammer. The gun with its double charge went off with a very satisfying bang, the rammer sailed through the air and fell among the troops…who probably felt that the salute was being slightly overdone.” (from W. A. Griesbach. 1946. I Remember. Ryerson Press, Toronto)
Had the enemy been watching this incident, the North-West Rebellion and events at Edmonton might have taken a different turn.
The original site of Fort Edmonton still occasionally hears the sounds of cannon fire. Howitzers going off during Canada Day celebrations at the Alberta Legislature Grounds.
