The Christmas Popsicle Murders

Note to My Readers. Over the Christmas holidays I was sitting in my house looking out the window at the miserable weather outside. And believe me, it was bad. As I sat there I wrote this story. It’s a bit dark. Just like the weather outside. I’ve tried capturing the freezing conditions in words. And with images. But I’m afraid no amount of words or images captures what we experienced. Unless of course, you live in Western Canada. Then you know. Those of you reading this living in Florida, southern Italy, or Bora Bora. Sorry. You’ll just have to come here and experience it for yourselves. Heinz Pyszczyk

December 21, 2021, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

It wasn’t a night for popsicles. It wasn’t even a night to be outside.

The two drunks staggered down the dark alley in Chinatown. Ever so careful not to fall or they would immediately freeze to the snow and ice. Teeth chattering, Jack asked. “Where, arrreee wee, sleep…sleeping tonight, Brian? I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

His buddy, Brian answered, slowly. As if trying to force his warm words out into the freezing air. “Don’t know, but we can’t stay out here in this weather.” He tried taking a sip from the wine bottle, only to find it had turned into a wine slushy.

Not only was the alley dark, but the ice fog was now settling in, giving everything an eery flowing appearance. The two men stopped abruptly, swaying slightly, as they saw a human figure propped up against the alley building. Unmoving.

“Stupid shit. Not a night to be out standing around. As we well know…”

The two men staggered up to the figure and then suddenly stopped as the face came into focus. “No wonder he couldn’t talk. A popsicle’s stuck in his mouth. In this weather. No wonder he’s dead.”

“This isn’t popsicle weather, Jack. Looks to me like it’ll take hours before the police can pry that popsicle out of his frozen yap.”

…………………………………..

Fumbling for her phone, which was constantly by her bedside, the yawning detective picked up. “Chan here.” She glanced at her watch. Three A.M. Listening, listening. And nodding to herself as she was waking up trying to process the words on the phone. “O.K., I’ll be right down.” Finally hanging up and getting dressed.

Her partner, Lim, rolled over watching her get dressed. “What is it, Jewel?”

“There’s been a possible murder in Chinatown. I’ve got to go.”

“At this time of night? It’s -38C out there right now. Can’t this wait? The person’s dead. A few more hours won’t matter.”

Before leaving, detective Julia (Jewel) Chan leaned over and kissed Lim on the forehead.

………………………………..

As she drove to the crime scene in Chinatown, the frozen square tires on her car clunking away, Chan thought about her last year on the force. Her car radio played in the background. She’d finally made detective four years ago. But this last year had been rough. Besides a major blunder, being a woman of Asian descent likely was the end of her career path. The radio DJ droned on. “It’s a cold one out there, folks. Bundle up. Exposed skin freezes in about thirty seconds. Why, I heard it was so cold out there, when someone talks to you, you’ll have to catch the words and go inside to thaw them out before you can hear them…” Chuckling.

“Asshole. Typical Edmonton winter humor. No wonder he’s on at three A.M.,” mumbled Julia. The twenty-eight year old Chan felt apprehensive, even queasy as she arrived at the crime scene. Her last investigation was derailed by a leak to the media. Despite her colleagues’ telling her it wasn’t her fault, Chan felt she was being punished. Overlooked as other crimes came up in the following months, not being assigned to any of them. Until now. Feeling down, Chan thought, ‘Probably they couldn’t find anyone else in this miserable weather.’

The alley, still swathed in ice fog, now looked like a Christmas tree, flashing lights of different colors everywhere. Yellow tape running across the alley to keep out curious onlookers. Not that there were any. The freezing cold trumped any curiosity.

Chan, now teeth chattering, was looking closely at the frozen body, still propped against the building wall. She noticed immediately he was frozen to the wall, likely needing a blow torch to remove him. ‘Well, no chance of falling over and shattering. That would spoil the evidence. Sick. Sick. About as bad a thought as that D.J.’, thought Chan.

“Any witnesses? Who found him?”

The young constable beside her responded. “No witnesses to his death/murder. Couple of local outdoors people found him.”

Chan looked at the young constable. ‘Outdoors people?’ Was everyone getting politically correct now? Even when describing two drunks in Chinatown?

The constable went on. “All I could get out of those two wise ones was eating popsicles in wintertime is bad for your health.”

“Alright, constable. I get the picture.”

“Well, at least the evidence is safe. That popsicle isn’t going to melt any time soon.” The constable abruptly stopped laughing, seeing the dark look on Chan’s face. Chan had a reputation in the force – no bullshit while on a crime scene.

“Is Forensics on the way, constable?” The constable merely nodded, not wanting to say anything more to garner that ‘look’ again from Chan.

Chan didn’t see his response. She was leaning forward to examine the frozen corpse more closely. Nothing remarkable about him. Middle-aged Caucasian male, medium build and height. Well dressed. Like he didn’t belong in this back alley in this part of town. Hard to tell eye color or any other details with his face so frosted up, like someone had spilled icing sugar on him.

“Any I.D., constable?”

“Didn’t check. I thought it best to touch nothing and focus on securing the crime scene.”

Chan’s respect for the young constable rose considerably. “Good, constable. No point rummaging around until Forensics is done.”

“What about cause of death, constable? See anything?”

“Nothing obvious. No weapon around. He looks like he just froze to death eating that popsicle. Why would someone stick a popsicle in his mouth? weird ….”

Again, Chan wasn’t paying much attention to the constable. She focused on the popsicle. It was clear, probably just water. She shone her small flashlight on it.

“Jeez, detective. Is that paper inside the popsicle?”

“Looks like it. We’ll have to thaw out the popsicle and see.”

…………………………..

A livid, red-faced Chan was standing in Chief of Detective Johnson’s office. Who stood with his back to her, staring out onto the icy wonderland of downtown Edmonton.

“With all due respect, Chief. I can handle this case. I don’t need an old version of ‘Columbus’ here helping me.”

“It’s ‘Columbo’, detective. Not Columbus. He came earlier.”

Indeed. There standing beside her was an elderly version of the disheveled detective Columbo in that famous TV series years ago. Seemingly not insulted by her words. Staring at the ceiling. And looking and smelling like he was just dragged out of a bar. Or that alley where the murder occurred.

“Detective, given this unusual case, you need some help. You’ll be lead but Art here will help. Considering that note in the popsicle, you might need all the help you can get. I have a feeling this isn’t the last one. I told the captain I wanted a younger man on the case, but he insisted on ‘him’.”

A blushing Chan responded. “Yes, Chief. The note was odd, but if you’ll just give me some time…”

“No, Chan. You need help. Art has a lot of experience with this kind of thing. And I have no choice in the matter.”

Chan rolled her eyes, looking sideways at the almost retired detective Art Fraser, who was now inspecting the Chief’s wall of fame, thinking. ‘Looks as old as Columbus to me.’

“Nice wall you have here, Johnson. Is that you with the mayor? Probably after solving those children’s murders five years ago? But, I don’t see Forsythe’s name anywhere up here. Or his picture. After all, he cra…”

“Enough Art. Go acquaint yourself with Julia and the case. And try to stay out of the bars for a while. Dismissed.” A now agitated Chief Johnson turned his back on the detectives, again looking out his window. It seemed the frosty scene before him trumped anything else Fraser had to say.

As they strode down the hall towards to the elevators, Chan took a sideways glance at Fraser. ‘Great’, she thought. ‘An almost retired detective, with a drinking habit, who doesn’t get along with the Chief. Real good for my career.’

“What was that all about, detective?”

Fraser took his time before answering. “The Chief, shall we say, likes to take credit for other peoples’ hard work. Watch your back, detective.” Before Chan could ask any more, the elevator bell rang, and they faced half a dozen faces. Going down.

……………………..

December 22, 2021

Chan and her now partner gazed at the still somewhat wet note found in the frozen popsicle:

“Those who spew death with their breath shall be punished.

Their life must be stopped to save their fellow man.

You reap what you sow.

One….”

The Popsicle Murderer

Chan looked at Fraser. “Any thoughts, detective?”

“Rather cryptic isn’t it. Sounds like some religious kook. But what’s he/she talking about? For sure, the ‘One’ at the end suggests there’s more to come.”

Chan shuddered. “Shit. Just what we need in Chinatown. There are already enough naturally frozen corpses this time of year.”

Fraser nodded. “And the cause of death is strange. Who could hold a healthy middle-aged man long enough to suffocate him with a popsicle? And why a popsicle? Why not just strangle him and be done with it?”

Chan looked at her report again. It said little else. “Toxicology report is still coming. Maybe something there will help. Maybe some sort of clamp was used around the victim’s throat to hold him while the popsicle was shoved into his mouth. Or, a powerful set of large hands.”

“So, what do we have, Chan? A very strong person, likely a man? Maybe two or three people? Motive? There’s obviously a clue in the note but I’ll be damned if I know what right now.”

………………………….

Standing on the crowded street, hidden among throngs of shouting people, the killer looked on. Over the heads of the crowd. Seemingly oblivious to the harsh Edmonton cold. Picking out the next victim. ‘There, that one. Obviously she needs some cooling off. This freezing weather isn’t enough to shut that yap of hers.’

……………………………..

December 24, 2021

Chan was nervously stroking her scarf as she waited for the Chief to speak. Once again the scene below the window seemed more important to him than his two detectives.

“Tell me, Fraser.  How can something look so beautiful and yet feel so goddamned ugly? Do you know that Canada has the top nine of ten coldest temperatures on Earth? Maybe even rivaling Mars.” Obviously a rhetorical question. Because before Fraser could say anything, Johnson continued.

“Where was this one found?”

‘Here we go,’ thought Chan. “In Chinatown again, Sir. Just off 99th Street, near the Happy Noodle Restaurant.”

“Well, that’s not good business for the Happy Noodle, I suppose,” replied a chuckling Chief. Chan didn’t see the humor. Fraser wasn’t paying attention, more interested in what was on the Chief’s wall of honor.

‘What have I got myself into?’, thought Chan. ‘One’s full of himself and my partner couldn’t care less. They didn’t write this stuff in university texts. Maybe a chapter on how to deal with morons in the workplace would have been useful…’

Finally, Johnson turned and sat down at his desk, nervously watching Fraser perusing his wall.

“Before you give me the details on this latest one, anything more on the first one?”

“Yes Sir.” Chan quickly got her notes out. Fraser was still absorbed by Johnson’s wall. “Autopsy reports death by strangulation/asphyxiation. Nothing from toxicology. He was clean when he died. His name is Dr. James Harrison, M.D. Two kids, wife. Nothing unusual, at least so far. We’re still digging…”

Johnson cut her off, asking, “Not much to go on there. Why would anyone kill a doctor during these Covid-riddled times? And with a popsicle? More rhetorical questions it seemed, as Johnston rambled on. “Go on detective. Or, is that it?”

Fraser finally came out of his wall trance. He took out his notebook and wrote down a few lines. Then looked at Chan.

The captain was eyeing Fraser, and in a rather harsh voice continued. “Fraser, you’ve said nothing useful since assigned to this case. Hung over again? Not feeling up to it? Maybe it’s time we drew up those retirement papers?”

An unfazed Fraser finally spoke up. “Chief, there’s nothing more to say that detective Chan hasn’t already covered. Obviously, whoever killed them, and I say them because this last one had a popsicle stuck down her throat, was one and the same person.”

“Thank you ‘Captain Obvious’ for finally speaking up. Not that it helps…”

“Let me finish, please. This one also came with a note inside the popsicle.” Fraser fumbled for the note in his pocket. It read:

“What makes the heart black?

To not feel the suffering that your actions create.

To not feel your own greed.

To not feel the need of the many.

To not feel your lack of compassion.

To not feel that you got in bed with evil.”

The Popsicle Murderer

“Apparently this was written by the psychic, Suzanne Warner. The murderer plagiarized her work. Must have suited what he/she needed to say.”

“So what, Fraser? There’s nothing there that makes any sense to me.”

By this time Fraser was again examining the chief’s wall. Then he looked closely at one photograph. “Chief, in this one here of you standing beside the Cree Chief, White Tail, I believe. Being congratulated for solving those Indigenous women’s murders in the Edmonton region. Wasn’t it Reynolds that finally cracked…”

“Get the fuck out of my office, now. Both of you. And solve this case. The media’s all over me on these murders. People are scared. And you’re in here staring at my wall. Get out.”

As they left, Fraser turned to Chan. “And I always thought he loved the media. And they him.”

………………………….

A now totally befuddled Chan followed Fraser down the hall, out into the freezing cold, the sun blazing on the snow almost blinding her. “What exactly do you two have going, Fraser? Christ, two meetings and you’ve pissed him off both times.”

A smiling Fraser, pulling his hat down low to shield the blinding sun, almost sounded cheerful. “I’ll guarantee you, Chan, it’s not love. Don’t stay in his office too long. He could ruin your whole day.”

“But, Fraser, he has a right to know. He’s our boss. We can’t just be vague with our reports.”

“You can’t, Chan. I however can. Anyway, let’s grab something to eat. How about some Dim Sum, in keeping in the spirit of the murders? There’s some stuff we should go over. Doing it over lunch is as good a place as any.”

Chan, shaking her head, “In keeping with the spirit of the murders? What a morbid comment!”

Undaunted, Fraser responded. “Besides I need to talk to some people in Chinatown that could help us.”

Twenty minutes later the two detectives were sitting in the Green Rice Bowl in Chinatown. Chan was genuinely surprised at Fraser’s knowledge of the little dishes that the waiters carted past their table. And his familiarity with management.

“I didn’t take you as a Chinese food connoisseur, Fraser.”

Fraser merely smiled. “I order Chinese take-out like everybody else.”

“But, these dishes are different. One wrong nod and you could be eating gelatinous chicken feet. Not a western specialty. Or favourite.”

“I come down here often. Lim and I are related.” Suddenly Fraser grew quiet, and his eyes grew foggy. Chan sensed something was wrong and didn’t push it.

Fraser saved the rather awkward moment of silence by jumping into the case. “O.K., let’s start profiling the killer and see how far we get. And, perhaps more importantly, see what we still don’t know. We’ve had two murders in Chinatown in the past four days. Same method. So, it’s highly likely it’s the same person.” Fraser stopped and sipped his tea when he saw Chan was about to jump in.

“What I don’t understand, is what the two murders and victims have in common. One’s a while male doctor and the other one’s a Chinese teacher. Different neighbourhoods, not related…. So, we have no connecting motive. Only with some cryptic notes and two popsicles.”

Fraser listened patiently until Chan finished. “I think the notes tell us the murderer is out for some sort of revenge. Exactly what, I don’t know. But, like many of these serial cases, the devil’s in the details. I had toxicology do some extra testing. Not on the bodies, but on the popsicles.” Fraser pulled a page out of his pocket and handed it to Chan.

Chan began reading and her mouth opened in surprise. “Oh, my goodness. What the hell. Is that it then, Fraser? The motive? But why them?” Fraser filled her in on his suspicions. Calmly sipping his green tea.

“I’ll see you back at the office, Chan. I have to talk with some people down here. In the meantime, why don’t you dig deeper into the history of the victims. There has to be some sort of connection.”

……………………………

December 26, 2021

Father Sinclair strode through the dark, quiet church when he heard sounds. It was late. Nothing was stirring outside in the freezing Edmonton cold. ‘Maybe a poor soul come out of the cold to seek warmth here,’ thought the priest. Every available building space in and around Chinatown was filled with the homeless as the northern vortex cracked down on Edmonton like a whip, freezing everything in its path.

“Anyone there? Come, no need to hide.” The Father continued down the aisle and then strode towards a darkened vestibule where he thought he heard the sound.

Suddenly a whisper. “Do you repent, Father?”

Sinclair froze when he heard the words. Nearly as quickly as if he were outside in the northern winter. It came again. “Do you repent, Father?”

Sinclair walked shakily toward the voice in the darkness. “Repent for what?”

Just as he was about to enter the darkness of the vestibule a large hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat. “For your sins, Father. For your sins.”

The hand pulled the struggling priest off his feet. Then something long and icy entered his throat while fingers pinched his nostrils shut. And as he died, he heard the killers words. At first strong, then ever dimmer. “For your sins, Father. For as Luke has written, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Then there was only cold and darkness, melding in with the weather outside.

…………………………….

Lights flashing, driving to the next murder scene at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Fraser and Chan were engulfed in their own thoughts. The streets had a glossy sheen, as if curlers had been out all night polishing the ice. Suddenly everything stopped in front of them.

“Crap,” muttered Fraser. “Water main break. We’ll have to detour. Looks kind of pretty though. The water shooting ten metres in the air and then hitting the street as ice. You don’t see that very often.”

Chan looked at her partner somewhat askance. It seemed nothing fazed the old detective. The DJ on the radio squawked, “Yes, folks, another frosty night in Edmonton, as the thermometer is reading -39C. Not a night for eating popsicles….” The media were running with the popsicle jokes whenever they could as the murders unfolded.

“Asshole,” mumbled Chan as they detoured around the water line break. Maybe this was an opportunity to go over their latest evidence before being assaulted with a new murder.

“Tell me Fraser, why did you have that popsicle analyzed? I mean it just looked like a popsicle. Nothing unusual?”

After some thought Fraser answered. “It was what that dipshit Chief of ours said at our last meeting. Why would anyone use a popsicle to murder someone? There are simpler ways. The killer was sending us a message.”

“He sure was. There was enough Covid virus in that popsicle to kill thousands.”

“And what did you find out from the background check on our two victims?”

Chan, quite pleased, gushed forth. “Both victims were extreme anti-vaccers. Both were in the media lately denouncing Canada’s vaccination program.”

“It seems then, Chan, we have our motive. Someone out there really hates anti-vaccers. And my guess, it’s probably a personal thing. Maybe lost someone close to them from Covid.”

“Well, that doesn’t narrow it down much, does it. There are thousands of grieving people out there who lost wives, husbands, mothers…. What sets this one apart? And how does the killer choose the victims. He/she can’t just do a door to door survey to find out who hates vaccines, right?”

Fraser gave Chan a brief glance then tapped the radio.

Chan gasped. “Oh my God, Fraser, the media?”

Fraser merely nodded as they drove through the icy night. Both pondering the events. Rethinking the evidence. And wondering who the next victim would be.

…………………………

Chan and Fraser sat in the Johnson’s office. A pacing Johnson wanted answers. The tension in the room was as cold and brittle as the outside northern air. Fraser as usual wasn’t paying too much attention, instead staring at the chief’s bare wall – the one where all his awards used to hang.

“What happened, chief?,” asked Fraser pointing at the wall. “Making room for the next batch?”

Johnson, barely able to contain himself, asked through gritted teeth. “You two better have something for me. Instead of the usual wisecracks. Especially you, Fraser. The Chinese community is in an uproar. The captain wants results. And the mayor is beginning to wonder what we’re up to. Well, what are we up to?”

‘And you want some glory,’ thought Fraser.

“Well, Sir, there have been some developments.”

Johnson waited, but Fraser didn’t share any more information. “Some developments? Yes, I know that. Another murder. We have a priest, with a popsicle stuck down his throat, frozen solid to a statue of Luke, outside St. Paul’s cathedral. And, on the letter board on the lawn, the words, ‘I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? And why kill a man of the cloth? Of the people?

Chan looked at Fraser before answering. “If I may, Sir. We think the murders are all connected by the fact that all three were public anti-vaccers. They appeared on TV or at public demonstrations. So, we have motive. The popsicles are laced with the Covid virus. Probably intended to send a message about what will happen if you speak out against vaccination. In a rather morbid way, the killer seems to be trying to get people to vaccinate before more people die.”

A slow smile spread on Johnson’s face. “Good work. So, are we getting close to who’s killing out there?” asked the Chief.

Before Chan could answer, Fraser cut in. More focused than he ever was in the last few days.

“I think so, Chief. We’re about to write out warrants and go in for an arrest.”

“That’s great news! Great news!,” shouted the Chief. “Do you have the case file with you?”

A now thoroughly confused Chen again looked at Fraser as if silently imploring him for guidance. “Yes, Chief. But we kind of need to…”

“Then hand it over, Chan. I’ll take it from here. You two take a break. You’ve been going at it hard for the last week.”

“But, chief, there are still some loose ends…..”

“O.K. Chan. Let’s go. You heard the Chief. He’ll take it from here.” Fraser grabbed Chan’s arm and led her out of the office before she could say any more.

Outside the office, Chan yanked her arm away from Fraser’s grip. “What the hell are you doing Fraser? We don’t have a clear suspect, and you know it. What did you put in that file? Fraser, what’s going on here? Something’s really off. Just like this stinking weather.”

“Tea, Chan? Looks like you could use a cup of good strong green tea.”

“I don’t want tea, Fraser. I want answers to all this god dammed weirdness.”

“Trust me Chan. Things are not what they seem.”

“No shit, ‘Captain Obvious’.”

Fraser just shrugged as they opened the door and received a blast of cold Arctic air. ‘God, I’m getting tired of the ‘Captain Obvious’ thing….’

…………………………

The white-hot lights were blinding. And deceiving. They didn’t seem to make anything warmer outside the suspected ‘popsicle’ murderer’s house. In the middle of the camera lights stood a calm Chief Johnson. Teeth barely chattering. “We have a suspect and I’m pretty certain we may have an arrest shortly. Then all Edmontonians will sleep better as we put the murderer away.”

In her apartment, snuggled under an enormous blanket, Chan watched as Johnson walked to the front door of the house, a small army of police officers in his wake, to make an arrest.

“Good work, Julia. Looks like all your hard work paid off.” Lim, sitting next to her, patted her on the shoulder.

In another part of the City, Art Fraser sat in his easy chair watching the same TV coverage. Scotch in a trembling hand, which had already held two others before this one. Smiling and mumbling, “Well, chief, as they say in the movies. Make my day.”

……………………………

Some Days Later

They sat in the newly appointed Lieutenant’s Chief of detectives office. Drinks in hand going over the events of the case. Silently contemplating what just had happened. And relieved the case was behind them.

“Congratulations, Chief. I believe you’re the youngest Chief of detectives ever appointed. And the first woman. And the first of Asian descent. You must be proud.”

Chan sighed. “I am. Kind of. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for your help, Fraser. And the looks I get from some of the senior detectives. As if saying, ‘a token woman, and a token minority. She never would have got the job on merit alone.’ That galls me a bit.”

“But you deserved it, Julia. You cracked the case. I didn’t see what you saw in those popsicle sticks. My Chinese connections told me that companies make monogrammed popsicle sticks. But I didn’t put two and two together. Pretty astute observations on your part.”

“Well, before we get into that, why were you appointed to this case? And who appointed you? Surely not just to help out?”

“No. I was put on the case to ferret out a rat. We suspected Johnson of leaking information to the media for several years. That way he was always in the spotlight, and the media were at his beck and call. He ruined your last case by leaking information to the media, thus, forewarning our perp who then destroyed incriminating evidence before you moved in. As to who I worked for, that’s irrelevant. But, I’m sure you can make an educated guess. There’s a reason the police investigate themselves. No one else really knows what’s going on inside.”

“O.K., O.K. I can read between the lines. But, you set up Johnson. You deliberately led him to the wrong suspect with that monogrammed popsicle you placed in the evidence report. A very powerful person from the University. Kind of underhanded and almost illegal wouldn’t you say, Fraser?”

“Well, not something you might find in your university textbook, but we had to nail him. Besides, he wasn’t thorough enough. If he would have read further into the file, he would have realized that Dr. Yumoto couldn’t be the killer. Yumoto is at best five feet, five inches tall, weighs one-hundred and fifty pounds, is seventy-five years old with a heart condition. No, the chief wanted to believe so badly, he only read part of the report, because he craved the limelight. Another trophy on his wall.”

“Did Yumoto know this was coming.”

“Yes. We had to forewarn him. He played along when we explained things. Helluva job acting for the media when he cussed out Johnson.”

They sipped their drinks in silence. After some time Fraser continued. “But it was you who noticed the real damming evidence, Chan. That wasn’t a popsicle stick at all used in those murders. It was a tongue depressor. Looks like a big popsicle stick. First big clue. Second, no one thought much about the Chinese symbols on the depressor. Probably made by a Company in China. So what.”

“Yeah, that was a break. ‘You reap what you sow’ in Chinese symbols. The killer used that phrase in the first murder message. And then monogrammed on the tongue depressor. Not too smart for a Ph.D. in medicine.”

Fraser continued. “So, those clues narrowed it down. Someone very knowledgeable in medicine, a strong athletic, with a real hate for anti-vaccers because Covid killed someone they loved dearly. The pseudo-pyschic and religious slogans were intended to lead us astray. So how many people with those attributes fit that profile? And when we re-examined the media footage, she stood out like a sore thumb.”

Chan chuckled. “She threw a few of the arresting officers around as if they were dumbbells. Olympic weightlifters can do that. And then we found more tongue depressors with the same slogans.”

 Chan, caught up in her own reverie, failed to see Fraser now standing in front of her office wall. Carefully examining the lone photograph, of the mayor handing her the commendation for cracking the Christmas popsicle murders. 

“Chan, I don’t see….”

Chan cut Fraser off. “Fraser, don’t even go there….”

They both laughed and tipped their glasses in salute gazing out at the frozen world and the City called Edmonton. Below them striding across the street were a bunch of revelers going to the Oilers game.

Chan gasped. “Are they nuts, Fraser? They’re only wearing Oilers jerseys and shorts! It’s -35C out there. And what the hell are they sucking on?”

Fraser took a quick look. “I think popsicles, Julia.”

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.

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….

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 written 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 some sort of 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.
  • Shape and angularity of the grinding flake matters if you want to protect your fingers when applying a considerable grinding force. If there are sharp edge or pieces 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 totally 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. My aim is 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, pounding of 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 I used 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 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 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 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:

  1. 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;
  2. 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;
  3. 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.

Out With ’21’, In With ’22’

I’m glad 2021 is finally over. And 2022 is here. I always hope a new year brings a fresh start and better things to come. I don’t like wishing years away, but I sincerely hope 2022 treats us better than ’21’. Last year was wicked on many fronts for Canadians.

Before we get too far into ’22’, I’ll write a few lines about my website and where I’m heading this year.

Spent ten days in July out in Powell River, British Columbia, Canada hoping to escape the interior heat. Not a chance. Super hot on the West Coast of British Columbia as well. There was a run of fans and air conditioners in Powell River. Everything was sold out, but we managed to get one. The only other reasonable thing to do was stay near the water. Or the pub. (This view is from the south beach on Savary Island, north of Powell River.)
Despite the extreme weather in many parts of Canada, the hot summer in the Edmonton area, which lasted into fall, was great for gardening. I’ve never picked so many ripe tomatoes off the vine than in the summer of ’21’.

I’m uncertain how productive I’ll be this year. I go in for knee surgery on January 10th (if Covid doesn’t overrun us again). Probably won’t remember my name for a week or two after surgery. I’m in constant pain so this needs to get done. The other knee too.

I already have about five or six stories lined up for 2022. Hopefully I can get one more out before surgery. I don’t think grinding away on a stone maul is in the works after surgery for a while, so I’d like to update you on my progress trying to grind that lump of quartzite into submission. And yes, I’ve made progress. Not much, mind you. But progress nevertheless.

My quartzite maul after about five hours of grinding. At least now you can see the groove. I’m going to switch techniques and work on it for another three hours. Then I’ll write up my results. Stay tuned.

As usual my stories were all over the map in 2021. But I don’t plan to change my approach. If it’s Canadian, and might be of some interest to you, I’ll write about it. This diverse set of stories probably attracts a diverse set of readers. Some stories may be too technical for some of you but students and academics read my work. But no matter what the story, I try to make it informative, entertaining. And Canadian.

Here’s another reason I’m glad 2021 is over. We did a major ‘reno’ to our house which is almost done. It started in July. Getting real tired of the intrusion and mess which comes with any reno. Shown here, our newest open concept bathroom design. Not sure it will catch on…

I’m still thinking about monetizing my website. Most of my content, however, will remain free. I might write some longer, more technical pieces which I will charge for. I have also received a contract offer from a publisher for a historical fiction novel I’ve been working on. But the offer isn’t great, so I may self-publish it on my website and charge accordingly. I just want to recoup some of my costs running this website.

Covid and the size of Canada make it challenging to write stories that represent the entire country. Hopefully in 2022 I’ll be able to travel more and write about many more Canadian places and themes. However, there is another way of getting more diversity and stories from other parts of Canada onto my website. Guest Bloggers. If you read my website menus, you’ll notice my Guest Bloggers menu is empty. Nothing! Not one person has come forward with a Canadian story. If you think you have a good Canadian story, and I know there are some good ones out there, let me know. I’ll set you up as a guest author and let you go at it. If I don’t get any volunteers, you can expect the press gang to show up at your door…

My wife and I managed to get out to the Empress area to the confluence of the Red Deer and South Saskatchewan Rivers. We searched for the elusive Chesterfield House(s). Early 19th century fur trade forts that have yet to be found. Many of you (likely from the Archaeology Societies) are tuning into that story. If Covid simmers down and the knees hold up we may return this spring and do more work. And write another story.

I’ll end with a few basic stats about my website:

  • In 2021 I’ve had 3,305 visits to my site; all time visits to my site are 5,380;
  • In 2021 I posted 21 stories and a total of 42 stories since starting;
  • I’ve written a total of 72,500 words, or ~1,714 words per post;
  • I have 82 subscribers (Admittedly not Donald Trump numbers but given my content, I’m happy with them).

The top five most viewed stories for 2021 are:

  1. How I lost My Head to History. The story of Anthony Henday… = 202 views;
  2. Stone Tobacco Smoking Pipes… = 122 views;
  3. Just Grinding and Pecking Away…. = 134 views;
  4. At the Junction of the ‘Bad’ and Red Deers Rivers…. = 133 views;
  5. Historic Maps: Alberta Through the Eyes of a Siksika Mapmaker…. = 126 views.

(These stats are liable to change and may be a bit skewed because some stories have been posted for a longer period of time than others.)

These stats suggest you like Canadian factual stories more than my fictional stories (none of which made the top five). Canada and the United States (in that order) led all visitors to my website. But readers from all over the world are checking in, including countries such as Malaysia and Taiwan.

Walls of smoke and flames approaching the City of Slave Lake, Alberta, Canada, 2011. https://news-ca.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/640×360/017.jpg. You have favorite stories. So do I. One of my favorites is the fire ecology story I posted in February, 2021. It’s a timely piece. Global warming combined with our forestry management practices has led to a perfect storm. In the 1970s anthropologists in Alberta were telling us that Indigenous Peoples all over the world (including western Canada) managed their forests with controlled burning, resulting in less frequent and intense fires.

Let me know what you liked in 2021. And maybe what wasn’t so great.

Happy New Year. All the best in 2022.

Stay Safe, EH!

At Christmas time our family gets together for a tasting. Last Christmas we sampled three French Bordeaux’s. This year it was a selection of five Scotches recommended to us from the people at the Bothy (a Scotch bar in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada).

A Short History of Our Canadian Dogs: A Few Things I Didn’t Know

“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.

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.". 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.”

According to Tahltan elder John Carlick :

“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.

For more information about this breed go to this page: https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/tahltan-bear-dog

The Salish Woolly Dog – a Source of Clothing

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.

For more information on the Salish Woolly dog go to: https://www.historylink.org/File/11243. Or this link: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/woolly-dog-blankets-coast-salish

Inuit Dogs for Hunting and Pulling

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.


‘Traditional Polar Bear Hunt’ by Andrew Qappik, RCA – Inuit Art – Pangnirtung 2011, presented by DaVic Gallery of Native Canadian Arts. https://nativecanadianarts.com/gallery/traditional-polar-bear-hunt/

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.)

Painting of ‘Eskimo’ (Inuit) dog by Edwin Tappan Adney, published in 1900. From: “Sled Dogs of the Early Canadian Fur Trade” by Thom “Swanny” Swan. http://oldschoolak.blogspot.com/2018/07/sled-dogs-of-early-canadian-fur-trade.html

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)

In an article Rupert Leslie Taylor (MHS Transactions, Series 3, Number 27, 1970-71 Season), entitled “The Winter Packet“, describes the importance of the dog teams to move the mail quickly between posts. (http://www.mhs.mb.ca/docs/transactions/3/winterpacket.shtml)

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.)

Metis dog harness, c.1880 – 1890. 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)
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 PostsCanid NISPTotal NISP% Canid
Northern Posts24979243.1
Central Posts15592231.0
Early Posts313117582.7
Late Posts8561381.4
HBC Fort Edmonton2711152.4
HBC Fort Victoria186103.0
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.

The photograph on the left is a pure ‘Indian’ sled dog in 1898 and Thom Swan’s sled dogs, on the right, closely resembling the Indian sled dog. (Courtesy of Thom Swan. “Sled Dogs of the Early Canadian Fur Trade” (http://oldschoolak.blogspot.com/2018/07/sled-dogs-of-early-canadian-fur-trade.html)

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.

Here’s A Truly Canadian Gem – The CKUA Radio Network, Alberta, Canada

Some of the best kept secrets are often hidden under our very noses. I didn’t start listening to this wonderful radio station until the late 1990s. Why not earlier? I couldn’t say. I’m just glad that I finally started to listen. CKUA is one of the most unusual and renowned radio stations in the world. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.liveradioplayer.com/ckua-radio-network/)

Like many of you I love music. I used to play it but now I just enjoy listening to a whole range of musical genres – Country, Rock, Jazz, Blues, Folk, and just about everything in between. But, where on earth does one find such a range of music without spending a small fortune buying it?

Early control room at CKUA. The station first started at the University of Alberta and then moved downtown to Jasper Avenue in Edmonton. (Image courtesy of CKUA: http://www.verdifestivaledmonton.ca/ckuaradionetwork.html)

The answer – tune into the CKUA Radio Network, right here in Alberta, Canada. This is truly a Canadian story. I’m certain many of you from Alberta have already heard about this great radio station. As a matter of fact CKUA is so renowned in Alberta, we even dedicated a display to it in our new Royal Alberta Museum here in Edmonton.

However, there are many people out there who have not heard about this powerful little radio station. So, I’m going to act as the messenger through this website to give Canada’s first public broadcaster (yes, you read right, ‘first public broadcaster’) a plug.

This post will be short and sweet. For more information about CKUA, and how you can tune in, wherever you are in the world, go to their website: https://ckua.com/. Once there you will find more information about the station, its history, hosts, upcoming events, and record library (one of the best in Canada, if not the world).

Here are a few highlights about this amazing radio station to get you started.

CKUA’s first announcer, H. P. Brown. (Image courtesy of CKUA: http://www.verdifestivaledmonton.ca/ckuaradionetwork.html

Did You Know:

  • CKUA was the first public broadcaster in Canada, starting at the University of Alberta with a lecture series, in 1927.
  • Before the internet got going you could only tune into the station in certain places in Alberta (and nowhere else in Canada). Eventually the network built fourteen transmitters around the province so that all Albertans could enjoy their broadcasts. And now you can live-stream their broadcasts from anywhere in the world.
  • CKUA is donor-supported relying primarily on money acquired by fund-raising twice a year and from their regular subscribers. Their fundraiser this fall raised over one million dollars in about ten days.
  • CKUA’s music library one of the largest and most diverse in Canada. It contains more than 250,000 CDs and LPs. The collection represents 140 years of recorded music.
  • CKUA has over thirty-five hosts who, as the CKUA website claims, ‘plan and curate their playlists to their tastes, unencumbered by genre, decade or ‘hit’ lists.’ Each host usually comes from some sort of musical background. And folks, they know their stuff. I’ve learned more about music and the history of music by listening to CKUA than from anywhere else. And, you will hear music on this station that you will rarely, if ever, hear anywhere else. Many of CKUA’s hosts are on a first name basis with some familiar names in each music genre. And the personal interviews of musical celebrities by hosts such as Holger Petersen (a host for over 50 years of his Natch’l Blues show) and Terry David Mulligan (Mulligan’s Stew Show), are off the charts.
  • CKUA promotes local Alberta and Canadian talent. They give new Canadian artists a chance to be heard and hone their skills. The list of musicians they promoted is extensive: Jan Arden, K.D. Lang, Robert Goulet, Tommy Banks, Corb Lund, to name a few. (I seem to recall that Robert Goulet grew up in Edmonton and was once a host on the station).
CKUA’s extensive music library. I remember on some of the early fundraisers, volunteers used to run down to the library and pull out requests from donators who called in. A bit of a daunting task, given the size of the collections, and the building. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.flickr.com/photos/mastermaq/16698895761/in/photostream/)

CKUA is ‘Community’ Oriented

Perhaps one of the things that struck me most about the station is the involvement of the community in CKUA, and the involvement of CKUA in the community. That relationship has grown stronger since 1997 when the station shut down but was revived by a new board. Along with their 35 or more hosts, they have over 40 support staff and 500 volunteers. And to date about 12,000 donors, who provide 60 per cent of the radio station’s funding.

And the station supports some pretty awesome music events in Alberta. They often broadcast live at many of the folk festivals in Alberta – the Calgary and Edmonton Folk Festivals, for example, and many more. And bring in renowned musical acts from all over the world. If the JUNO awards are being hosted by an Alberta City, you can be sure CKUA will be there to do some live interviews.

I’ll end with a few personal notes about the radio station. In 1992, I was interviewed by CKUA regarding my work at the HBC Fort Edmonton archaeological site. They support community events. Somewhere in those CKUA library vaults there’s probably a tape of that interview.

In July, 2021 I turned seventy. My wife asked Terry David Mulligan to wish me a happy birthday on his show. Terry had already pre-recorded his show, but despite that he went out of his way to get another host to wish me a happy birthday. Terry didn’t have to do that, but that’s what he’s all about.

Two very popular hosts at CKUA, Terry David Mulligan (Mulligan’s Stew) and Allison Brock (Wide-Cut Country). (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.mulliganstew.ca/2021/05/07/mulligan-stew-may-8th-2021-i-million-raised-for-ckua-we-celebrate-with-2-hours-of-music/)

So, for those of you out there who love music and haven’t given this radio station a try, tune in and find out what it’s all about. I’m sure you’ll find something on their eclectic playlist and programs you like. And I guarantee there will be some surprises. I’ve been listening for over twenty years and am still entertained and learning. I hope you will be too.

Jack, Worthington Hagerman, also known as the ‘The ‘Old Disc Jockey’, who is no longer with us, started as a host at CKUA in 1949. Jack left behind an incredible legacy. His shows still air every Sunday on CKUA. For more information on this remarkable man go to: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/)

‘WE’ AND THE RACE AGAINST THE SLOW SWIMMERS: A Short Story

Non nobis solum nati sumus.

(Not for ourselves are we born)

Marcus Tullius Cicero

Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, 2021

The grim looking group of scientists sitting around the table listened to renowned Doctor Derrick Smith, a leading authority in his field. “And so, to summarize, the news is not good, ladies and gentlemen. Humanity is in trouble. All the factors I mentioned, along with the increasing numbers of slow swimmers, could jeopardize humankind. And dogs.” The meeting adjourned and the small, assembled group of scientists went back to their respective countries to report to their governments.

………………….

In another part of the hospital, it was not humankind that was in jeopardy. But the life of one man. A dying Jason Parry, just turned thirty-five, lay in his bed trying desperately to breath and focus. A renowned neurosurgeon at the University of Alberta Hospital, Parry, through strained breaths, was having trouble believing what he was hearing.

The masked doctor looked at Parry, marked sorrow in both his eyes and voice. “I’m sorry Dr. Parry, there’s nothing more we can do. This strain of Covid is lethal. C-9.9.9 kills over eighty-five percent of those infected. Of all ages.”

Parry’s wife, Susan, burst into tears. His two young twin sons were running around in stockinged feet, trying to give one another electric shocks. The doctor, shaking his head, left the grieving family alone.

Parry, trying to keep calm, considered his options. Death, it seemed, lurked at the doorstep. Threatening to end his life and eventually over one-quarter of the world’s population. If the Covid virus didn’t render humans extinct, the slow swimmers might.

After considering, Parry finally made his choice.

“O.K., let’s do it. Say goodbye to Jake for me.” At his words, his wife cried more, now joined by his bewildered sons.

Parry had to have faith in the new, highly controversial cryonics technology. His last thoughts were that Jake’s kind might be in trouble too.

Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, 2200

Parry woke, to a dimly lit room, aware of the burning sensation in his body. The anti-freezing fluids were being flushed out of his system, returning it to its normal temperature.

Suddenly, a face, immersed in some sort of bluish halo, loomed over him shining a tiny light into his one eye. “Can you talk, Dr. Parry? Just easy now. Don’t raise your voice. Everything kind of needs to warm up first.”

“Where am I,” croaked Parry. “Am I alive? Who are you? Is this a dream?”

“Easy now, Dr. Parry. All in good time. First we must assess your condition. After all, you’ve been out for a while.”

Parry, confused by this remark, asked, “Haven’t you frozen me yet, Doctor? I thought we were going ahead with the cryonics?”

“Oh, Dr. Parry, you were out for a while – 179 years to be exact. But you’re back now.”

“Oh, God. It must have worked…”

Doctor Goodwin interrupted. “Now, Dr. Parry, just relax. You have a lot to catch up on.” Earlier Goodwin, after consulting with his team of experts, while worried about bringing Parry back to life, worried more about his mental condition. He touched Jason’s left arm with a blunt metal object, and the increasingly anxious Parry immediately was out again.

………………….

Parry felt much better when he woke up the next time. Goodwin was standing nearby.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Parry? Any pain anywhere? Your vitals look good. No problems that we can see.” Goodwin suddenly looked up as if viewing something in the distance. Occasionally nodding his head as if in agreement.

“We’ll start with some basic information.” Goodwin seemed to be looking off into the distance again as if he were examining data on a computer screen.

Parry saw a radiating metal band around Goodwin’s head. Technology to allow him to connect with his computer? Where’s the computer?, wondered Parry. Suddenly a transparent, virtual bluish screen appeared, and Parry saw data on the screen floating in the air. His vitals, he presumed. Parry relaxed, thinking to himself, Take it easy, Jason. This won’t be your first surprise.

“First things first, Dr. Parry. In the next few days, we’ll put you on an exercise program to rejuvenate those muscles. You’ve been rather lazy lately, laying around for 180 years.” Goodwin chuckled at his own joke resulting in a line of little bluish laughing heads appearing on the virtual image.  

Goodwin continued. “First though, I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“Where am I? In Edmonton?” Goodwin only nodded and said nothing, thinking. Close enough. An Edmonton of sorts, Jason Parry.

“Why did you ‘revitalize’ me now?”

“Two reasons, Dr. Parry. First, the advance in cryonics five years ago. In your time it was considered a long shot at best. Dangerous at worst. There was a breakthrough in reconstituting the brain’s neural net.”

“And the other reason, Doctor?”

“Before you were frozen, Dr. Parry, you had the C-9.9.9 variant. It killed millions, before we finally managed to eradicate it.”

“And the problem, Doctor?”

“Your variant mutated while you were under. We didn’t know how to treat it. No one wanted to let the genie out of the bottle. And infect the world with a new strain of Covid. But with recently approved nanotechnology in medicine, we sent in nanobots to kill the variant, before resuscitating you. You’re cured. And, so far there aren’t any runaway bots taking over the world.”

Before Parry could ask any more questions, Goodwin jumped in. “I think, Dr. Parry you need to rest now.

“I agree, Doctor. Perhaps you could arrange some reading for me to start catching up.”

Goodwin chuckled. “Reading, Doctor? You’d be dead by the time you caught up. No, we’ve arranged something better.” He seemed to be looking into space again and suddenly an image of two middle-aged men and one woman appeared in the room. Parry squinted. First amazed at the imagery and technology. Then at the vaguely familiar faces, reminding him of his wife and two boys.

“Dr. Parry, meet some of your direct descendants. I’ll let them tell you how we’re going get you set for your new world.” Goodwin speculated, Well, if this doesn’t put him over the top, nothing will.

Parry stared at them, then broke down crying. Sarah, Graham, and Dallas came closer trying to virtually console him.

…………………

Introduction To A Changing World, 2100

Parry opened his eyes to what seemed more like a dream than reality. Beside him stood his three descendants. Shimmering, not looking quite right either. Sarah talked first. “Hi Gramps. Can I call you Gramps or Jason. Great, Great, Great…. Grandfather seems rather long.”

“I kind of like Gramps. Has an old ring to it. Where are we? Am I sleeping? This doesn’t feel right.”

Dallas answered. “Gramps, this is something called virtual history. You can interact with it and ask anything you like about the year 2100. Eventually, we’ll take you forward to the present.”

“But how am I seeing this? I have no goggles or headgear on.” Then Parry felt the thin band on his head.

“We don’t need those anymore, Gramps. With that headband, this info-site is directly connected to your brain. You will take a virtual tour back to 2100 and we’ll explore some key things that changed in the world since 2021.”

Suddenly there standing before him were now much older versions of his two sons, Eric and Neil.

“This is so extraordinary. I have so many things to ask you.” His sons greeted him warmly as if alive.

“Well, let’s skip the family stuff until later. Let’s first check out the world.” Graham watched carefully. Too much emotion from Parry and he was instructed to end the session immediately.

Eric asked, “Dad, before you left us, what major problem did our world face?”

A confused Parry blurted out, “Climate, energy, disease, pollution, overpopulation, obesity, racial and religious issues, human inequality. It’s a long list, Eric.”

“Think again, Dad. Back then we had the means to fix most of those things but couldn’t because one of them trumped all.” Eric watched the thinking Parry.

“Well, the world’s geopolitical systems were the major thing holding us back. They were broken, unwieldy, corrupt, or misguided by ideological and religious dogma.”

A major map of the world appeared in front of Parry. Over the world floated a large logo, with two green letters, WE. In the background a voice droned on, describing the new world political order. Parry stared, barely able to comprehend what he was watching.

Neil began. “You’re right, Dad. Our politics, whether domestic, international, democratic, dictatorial, and everything in-between, were destroying us. We couldn’t cooperate on anything globally. Leaving our poor world in shambles and continual threats of war. That had to change. In a way, a declining world’s population, helped by the Covid pandemic, unraveled the old system. And so did the slow swimmers, although they could still do us in. World economies were destroyed, and along with them those with the power to manipulate the political system to their own ends. There was rioting, civil war, and totally anarchy the world over. And more died.”

The world map contained only six names. New America; Ant-America; Europa; Africa; Asia; and Oceania. Eric pointed out, “These, Dad, are the new political entities or super-countries if you will. Canada is no longer a sovereign nation but now part of a larger continental entity, New America, under one government. Former countries of these new entities had to unify because of the economic turmoil and population decline. We’re not quite done but making progress. Both New America and Asia is still attempting to revert to older power systems. But the people are forcing change on a scale never seen before.”

“But how does this even work?,” blurted a confused Parry.

Neil chimed in, “First, governments of these Nation continents are formed by the people…”

Parry, now totally fired up, cut in. “Yes, and then corruption sets in and our political leaders are manipulated by capitalist or ideological agendas. Or, someone just downright becomes greedy and takes sole power, passing it down to their children and bleeding off all the wealth, leaving most people powerless with nothing.”

Eric interjected. “You can imagine, Dad, there was major unrest and the most corrupt world leaders were held accountable. They lost the power they once had as the world’s population crashed. Disease deniers were murdered. A new order emerged.”

Neil continued. “The new political order realized that religion and the state must be separated – a former rule that had become more and more blurred in many countries. But also, capitalism and the state needed to be separated. We still have a capitalist system, but it can’t influence or buy the governing body. No more candidates who will get corporations more money and power if elected, with large donations. No more political lobbying and bribery with perks, or threats. No more inserting candidates into political positions because of certain religious beliefs.”

“But, where do the politicians get their money to campaign?”

“The state gives eligible candidates a certain amount of money to run for political positions.”

“What, eligible? Qualify to be a politician? Wouldn’t that disqualify many people from even running? And, what qualifications would you need?” Parry thought he hadn’t heard right.

A list appeared in front of Parry. “There they are, Dad. At least three years of civic political experience, being elected democratically. To really understand humanity and its history, requires courses in anthropology, history and sociology. And, if you wish to go on to the world governing level, courses in international relations. By the time you go through all these steps, it eliminates most of the shysters who went into politics for power and self-aggrandizement.”

“Those types can’t use their wealth to influence the political system. They have to play by the rules. We now have more informed politicians who represent New America, based on region and/or population as before. Then, one is chosen from the elected to lead. For only a five year term. There are no political parties.”

Parry shook his head, wondering if such a system could even work? A politician, unhindered by donors, party agendas, working solely to carry out the wishes of the people and the laws and rules of the land, based on sound facts?

Something about world politics, from Eric’s former statement, prompted another question from Parry. “But, wouldn’t these new countries continue to bicker about world issues? Like climate?”

An image appeared, of a large council chamber, capable of seating thousands, similar to the United Nations. In its center sat twelve delegates, two people representing each continent.

“The United Nations was revamped into a new political system that over-arches the six continents. It has the power to deal with global matters and those possibly from outer space. Anything or anyone that threatens the earth, be it pollution, over-population, disease, or outsiders is handled at this political level.”

Eric pointed, “That’s its logo, WE, floating over the earth.”

“Meaning, WE the people, I assume? Instead of ME, as in MYSELF,” asked Parry.

“Partly, Dad. It represents the two cornerstones of new world order policies. WASTE and EFFICIENCY. Dad, your era wasted about 42% of all energy you made for transportation, heating, etc., and one-third of all food produced. We’ve reduced those figures to about 10% each. Eventually we’ll reach zero waste. That alone would make a big difference in harmful emissions and human inequality.”

“Then, I take it EFFICIENCY means better, cleaner energy for homes, manufacturing and transportation?”

“Yes, Dad. And a host of other things as well.”

“Solving our energy crisis, for example, for the benefit of all continents and while not affecting the earth’s environment is among one of the most monumental challenges we’ve ever faced. But, in your day it couldn’t happen. This governing body realizes that success can only come from cooperation. Globally.”

A fascinated Parry watched the session. Shouting broke out between the Australian and Asian delegates. The Australian was speaking loudly. “Your policies on energy are still inefficient. There’s a grey cloud of shit hanging over Asia, yet you’re still reluctant to accept cleaner energy solutions. That will just increase the slow swimmers.”

The Asian delegate, equally angry, shouted back. “We’re trying but are not technologically ready. If you would share more of that new energy information with us, perhaps we could resolve the problem faster. And remember Mr. Osborn from Australia, soon we will be neighbors, so try to be more civil.”

A perplexed looking Aussie, asked, “Neighbors? We’re neighbors already. Too close in fact. When the winds blow right, your big blob of suet covers our continent.”

The Asian delegate shot back, “That’s not what I meant Mr. Osborn. In about two-hundred million years, as the continent of Australia creeps toward us 2.2 inches a year, it will bump up against Asia and we will be very close neighbors.” This got a round of applause and laughter from the assembly.

Even the Australian delegate laughed.

Parry and his sons chuckled at the outbreak. Parry asked, “But how is a final decision enforced?”

“None of the continents has a standing army, Dad. Or major weapons of mass destruction. Only the world authority can amass an army to ensure compliance, if necessary. So far, it hasn’t been necessary. These diplomats and politicians know what a mess the world is in. They realize if they don’t work together for the interests of the planet, all on earth are doomed.”

Later as Parry and his sons sat watching the hockey game, catching up on family matters, Parry, still perplexed about a few other things, casually asked.

“What about race? When I left, racial tensions and intolerance throughout the world were off the charts.”

Neil answered. “Racial and gender equality have improved, and our leaders are better educated and more tolerant to racial issues. That has helped but maybe not be enough. So, as we speak, Dad, the borders between continents are opening. People will be allowed to choose where to live. Up to the point when it might no longer be safe, economical, or endanger cultural diversity.”

Parry couldn’t believe his ears. “What? You can’t do that. We’ll be flooded with humans wanting to live here.”

“And how did your borders work before, Dad? They only caused turmoil, inequality, fear and hate. Remember, this is no longer 2021. We desperately need people. Or, our economies will crash again. Eventually all economies will balance out and people won’t need to flee. If you had a choice and could live comfortably in Columbia, raise a family and make a living, or live in northern Alberta, which would you choose?”

Parry, in defense of northern Alberta, answered, “There’s nothing wrong with northern Alberta. But I see your point. There would be less incentive to move. People were moving before because of warfare, starvation, or suppression.”

“Right,” interjected Eric. That’s been solved for the most part. By opening the borders, we think there will be more inter-racial interactions, intermarriage, and economic equality, improving tolerance. It’s a big gamble. We don’t know what will happen. We may lose our cultural diversity. Or, it might be strengthened. When you go to 2200, you’ll probably have an answer. It could lead to total racial retrenching which might lead to more conflict.”

“Another question. Are we too late in reversing some of the things we’ve done to world climate?”

“Don’t know, Dad. The most efficient energy policies currently available are now fully implemented. Waste of and polluting energy continues to drop. CO2 emissions are down to manageable levels. But is it too late? Our sea levels continue to rise. But, the world hasn’t sunk under the oceans, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’d hoped there would be flying cars by now. Or teleporting,” grumbled Parry.

Eric paused the game and brought up an image of cars traveling down streets. “Not there yet, Dad, but way better than in your day.”

Parry watched the traffic but heard no noise. “What are they running on?”

“Right now, mostly electricity. But the real big breakthrough are the tires.”

“The tires?,” asked Parry.

Nanotires, Dad. Vehicle travel causes friction on the roads which is converted into electricity. Those tires are recovering about 35% of the energy used in fuel. Someday that technology may be efficient enough to recover enough electricity to power that car.”

Suddenly the game was interrupted by a news flash. There on the streets, what looked like a pack of robotic dogs were chasing someone frantically trying to escape in a vehicle. Eric moaned. “Oh, God. The health hounds again.”

An incredulous Parry looked on. “Health hounds?”

An embarrassed looking Eric simply said. “An experiment, Dad, intended to deal with health issues, gone terribly, terribly wrong.” His son filled a concerned Parry in on the details.

The game resumed. “But our biggest concern Dad, are the increasing slow swimmers.” The sons then told their father about this dilemma as they watched the rest of the game. As usual the Canadians won.

 Back To 2200

Goodwin, standing near Parry, looked off into his own space and data, to see how his patient was doing.

“Welcome back, Dr. Parry. How are you feeling?”

“Surprised, shocked, puzzled, but well enough. So much changed in less than 100 years. Is there more to come?

“Yes, Doctor. Hopefully that session lessens the shock of the present. I have a surprise for you.” Then Dr. Goodwin looked off into his head and checked Parry’s vitals, making sure he was stable.

The door opened and in walked Dallas, Sarah and Graham, in the flesh. An emotional, befuddled Parry, still adjusting to jumping ahead of his children and grandchildren into this future world, gave them a big hug.

Parry finally regained his composure and spoke. “You all look so great. I’m anxious to see this new world and get to know you. I hope I’m ready.”

“We’ll take it slow, Gramps. Brace yourself. Edmonton is different from when you left. First we’ll show you some of the City and then try to put it all into perspective.”

They left Parry’s room and entered a large atrium teeming with plants. It almost looked like they were outside. Sarah caught Parry staring. “We incorporate as much plant life into our public buildings as possible. It’s not just decorative but practical. All building interiors produce oxygen and absorb CO2. The entire building is designed to produce electricity and geothermal heating, give off zero emissions and generates more energy than it uses.”

Parry marveled at the vastly improved energy efficiency as they passed out the building doors. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the streets. They were covered with a mixture of grass and some black glassy-looking material. Wheeled vehicles drove on the latter while other vehicles floated over the former. “Gramps, those glassy-looking surfaces are solar arrays embedded into the road, to produce electricity, for the wheeled vehicles. The nanogenerators in the tires on wheeled vehicles now recover 85% of the car’s expended energy by producing electricity from friction. The cars gliding over the grass, based on electromagnetics or maglev, are fueled by electricity. Our entire rapid transit systems are now all maglev – quieter, faster and more efficient. You can travel from one side of the continent to the other at the speed of sound on the maglev trains.”

Parry, barely paying attention was down on his knees examining the intricate solar arrays embedded in the road. “But the maglev cars don’t produce any friction on the ground, so no electrical recovery?”

“We’re producing electricity from friction caused when a car, train, or plane moves through the air. Our new generation of nanogenerators convert mechanical energy, caused by air friction over their bodies to generate power. We’ll show you more examples of this in a bit.” Sarah towed a reluctant Parry toward a row of vehicles.

Once inside their vehicle, Graham punched in some numbers on the computer console and off they went. No one was driving. As they neared the residential parts of the City, Parry noticed that the structures were barely visible, looking like mounds buried under sod and grass. Only the south-facing facades showed, flowing out into yards. They also looked longer as if several houses were connected.

Parry asked, “Are these residences?”

“They are, Gramps. Mostly buried, with very low profiles to provide insulation and conserve heat in our very frigid winters.”

Parry was impressed. “So, these are just cold climate residences? What about the rest of the more temperate and tropical world? Are houses still usually above ground?”

 “The same principle holds even in the tropics but is reversed. Instead of keeping the cold out you keep the heat out. And conserve electricity required for air-conditioning.”

Their ride finally stopped beside one of the units. “Is this all yours? I thought by now we would have scaled back a little on residential space,” asked a puzzled Parry.

“Welcome home, Gramps.”

“I’ll be living with you? I don’t want to intrude.”

“That’s why this unit is so big, Gramps. It contains our entire extended families. Children, parents, grandparents all live together. It’s divided into private units, but we all interact. We care for our elders at home with help. When we’re away, the elders care for the children. Even if we’re not away, the social interaction is important for both. Many societies of the past used these same organizational principles, but western society mistakenly decided the nuclear family was the way to go.”

 Parry entered the cement encased house, well lit with light tubes, despite being mostly underground. His new family greeted him warmly in anticipation in seeing someone from the past. Stan, an elderly man met him and shook his hand. “Welcome, Gramps, I can’t beat your 214 years even though I’m a spry 130.” They both laughed at the joke.

The next day, before his daily stroll, Parry listened to the news casts on his virtual communications device, powered by the electricity generated by the friction from his shoes and cloths he made when walking. It sounded like the new world political system was still holding up. Then the news turned to the national stage where reports of rising sea levels were causing concerns in coastal communities.

Parry noticed that many fences and other hard surfaces had a strange coating of material on them. “Sarah, what’s that stuff on the fences? I even saw it in the toilet bowl.”

“Those are water motion active transducers. Tiny flexible, transparent electrodes that coat windows, roofs and even toilet bowls, to generate electricity from friction produced by raindrops and any water flow. All the water piping in our homes is coated with it, producing electricity. We even coat our new storm sewers with them to generate electricity for the City.”

“Then our energy and emissions problems are solved, with these technologies?”

“Yes, mostly, but we are still developing more efficient, less intrusive technologies. See that pole with what look like tiny filaments hanging by that house there. Those are tiny protein microwires made from geobacteria, capable of generating electricity from water vapour in the air. They work anywhere, including the driest parts of the world.”

A stunned Parry shook his head. “Do you still make beer, Sarah? I need a few right now to better absorb all this.”

Sarah laughed. “Some things, Gramps, can’t be improved upon. Just like our hockey.” They walked into the nearby neighborhood pub and Parry looked around. He noticed there were no obese people. No health hounds either. He would have to ask Sarah about that.

There were more colored and fewer white people than he was accustomed to. Something he’d noticed in his extended family.

“In the year 2100 orientation, my sons told me that the continental borders had been opened but at the time didn’t how it would affect interracial relations. What happened?”

“It’s ongoing Gramps. Improved but still an issue. There was a great deal more intermarriage when the borders opened. But, parts of the population wanted to maintain racial and cultural diversity. Purely White pods have dwindled significantly, but still exist. The debate continues and governments are reluctant to step in as it impinges too much on individual human rights. Supposed race, mostly defined by skin color, is being redefined. As the lines are blurred, we hope, there is less emphasis on this aspect of our humanity. We’ll see.”

“But aren’t you diluting cultural diversity?”

“Gramps, it’s easier now with a more uniform economic system. Cultures can remain distinctive without prejudice, warfare, ostracization.”

“What about religion?”

Sarah replied. “You can worship whatever God you wish. But, God can’t interfere with politics. And, there are stiff penalties if you attempt to convert others. Our educational system teaches religious and cultural diversity along with science. But, at the end of the day, it’s the individual’s choice which God, if any, they worship.”

As Parry took a sip of his beer, thinking about all the hate and bloodshed race, religion, or simply being different, had created, he turned to the large screen that was streaming the latest news. Sea levels around the world were still rising and affecting coastal populations. He shook his head.

“I take it, Sarah, that we didn’t deal with our CO2 emissions fast enough.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, Gramps. At this rate we figure sea levels will continue to rise for another hundred years before things level out. Your generation may have prevented the next ice age though, even if it’s a long way off.”

A now guilty looking Parry asked, “But you can stop rising sea levels? Surely by now there are technologies to deal with this?”

“Like what, Gramps? How do you stop something so powerful, so enormous? By trying, we may do more damage than good. Like those health hounds.”

Parry had no answer for that. Sarah paused before continuing. “We have covered the remaining global ice packs with protective insulation, slowing down melting. We are desalinizing sea water and pumping it into world’s dried up lakes and aquifers. We could refill them and perhaps even develop more fresh water in some of our driest areas on earth to rejuvenate the land. Some day the Sahara Desert might be green again. That might reduce rising sea levels by half.” Sarah sighed and took a drink, watching the image of water lap up against some of the most beautiful cities in the world.

That evening Parry had dinner with his extended family. He saw no plastic or metal food containers only some sort of, presumably biodegradable, strange material. There was little leftover food. All leftover vegetable matter went into some sort of grinder and came out as a greenish-looking paste. He recalled that 8.8% of greenhouse gases were created by food waste and that rotting organic matter in landfills released deadly methane – twenty-eight times worse than CO2 emissions.

As Parry went to bed that night thinking, despite some of the still looming problems, this was a better world by far than the one he’d left. And finally, WE was defeating the problem of those slow swimmers. It had been a close race. The air pollution, lethal chemicals in plastics and the Covid pandemic, which all contributed to slow swimming human and dog sperm, were contained. For humans, and man’s best friend who shared his toxic environment, fertility levels had begun to rise.

Just before dozing off, Parry mumbled the words of a famous man, that reflected well this new world order and where it was trending.

“Our ability to reach unity in diversity will be the beauty and test of our civilization.”

Mahatma Gandhi

EndNote

Whether you like it, hate it, or fear it, it’s coming. Whether you think it will save the world. Or destroy us all, nanotechnology is upon us. And developing fast.

While this is a story of fiction, a lot of the technologies I write about here are almost a reality. In terms of becoming economically and practically feasible. Imagine a world where your very movements, or your car’s, which creates friction used to make enough electricity to supply our needs. Those nanotires in the story are a reality.

And those slow swimmers? Also a reality and a real concern among countries. Imagine the world’s populations plummeting. That would destroy entire economies. And perhaps even threaten the very survival of our species.

I entered this story in Fix. And so did 1,100 other writers. If you like science fiction and imagining a better world, here’s the link to the top 12 stories. https://grist.org/fix/series/imagine-2200-climate-fiction/

SOME SCIENCE FICTION STORIES TO SHARE WITH YOU

Note: For a while now I’ve been dabbling in science fiction short stories. Recently I entered a few short-fiction story contests. I didn’t win anything, nor did I expect too. One of the contests attracted 1,100 entries. And had prizes. So, they probably attracted some serious writers.

Even though I didn’t win, the experience was fun and enlightening. There’s only one way to become a better writer. Read more. And write more. Work at your craft. For me, writing fiction is very different from writing technical archeological papers and reports. It’s been a learning process to write for a public audience.

And the topics for those contest were inspiring too. Both contests challenged us to write about a futuristic world. As it might appear in the year, 2,200 (Grist Magazine). The other competition, in ‘Sapiens Plurum’ (wisdom of many), and the stories to be published in Fix, asked us to create a story where we were more in harmony with our world – our environment, the creatures that live in it, and others around us.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll share these stories with you. Here’s how I imagine us living in a better, more harmonious world.

Here’s the first one then. Submitted to Sapiens Plurum, May, 2021:

A TIME WHEN THE TREES RAN FOR THEIR LIVES

A Time 6,000 Years Ago

The old man and his grandson stood at the south edge of their dying northern forest. Before them rose one brave majestic spruce tree, well over 200 years old. Now brown and loosing its needles. Struggling to survive. And not another tree in sight.

The wizened old man looked down at his grandson. “Let me tell you a story, young one. When I was your age, long, long ago, I stood on this same spot amongst towering, majestic evergreens. This place, and even farther south, was all lush, green forest, inhabited by many animals.”

“But, what does it mean grandfather? We are a forest people. Are we losing our homes, our way of life?” Turok now looked somewhat anxious. Was his home threatened?

The old man gazed at the forlorn-looking tree struggling to survive. Soon the fires would take it if the heat and dryness failed to. “It means my child, that the trees are running away. To a new place if they are to survive. If we are to survive, we must follow them.”

An inquisitive Turok wondered about grandfather’s words. He pondered whether it had happened before or would again.

2015: Oslo, Norway

Two young men and a woman sat in the conference hotel lounge, trying to enjoy a drink after the day’s sessions on climate change. All were brilliant in their fields of genetic engineering, forest ecology, international law and diplomacy. What they’d heard was hardly surprising but still jarring and sobering: global warming was raising hell with everything including the one thing they all had an interest in – the health of the boreal forests of the world. The news wasn’t good. The boreal forests of the world were dying.

The Scandinavian lawyer/diplomat, Karst Olsen, spoke first. “What a bloody mess. If people only knew the half of it. As temperatures continue to rise, and the boreal forests continue to decline, to burn and release their vast carbon stores into the atmosphere, even greater temperature increases will be triggered. If I heard right, no matter what we do, we can no longer stop it from happening.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. Olsen was a rare political bird. He listened to scientists, considered the ethical and legal implications of their work, then relayed their information to the rest of the political community. But getting them to act on it was a job that would thin even the thickest head of hair in a short period of time.

The Russian plant geneticist and engineer, Dmitri Yashin, leaned forward and in a heavy accent added. “Does world not understand anything? Including my government? They think the Siberian taiga is just for logging and mineral extraction. I agree, Karst, it is a catastrophe waiting to happen. Our northern forests are dying and the animals with them. They represent thirty percent of all forests in the world. Even if we stop the warming, now, it is too late. We cannot stop this. I have some ideas, but no one listens.” The Russian shook his black head of hair already showing white streaks.

Throughout the conversation, the Canadian palaeoecologist, Susan Brock, who also specialized in microbiotics, remained quiet, listening intently to her two colleagues. She had never met these men before but knew their reputation. She had asked if they would join her for a drink to hear their thoughts. Now the others looked at her intently, expecting to hear a reason for the meeting.

“Gentlemen, as you both point out the news isn’t good. But I have more.”

Dmitri interrupted, “Any good news, Dr. Brock, please. I don’t feel so good after that session.” Dmitri, however, was feeling better by looking into the eyes of the striking woman before him, unconsciously stroking his hair to ensure it was neatly in place.

“Well, Dmitri, the good news is that the boreal forest isn’t really dying. It is moving north as our climate warms to cooler places to survive.”

“That is good news, Susan. So, it will get bigger then?” Karst too was liking what he heard.

Susan responded, “No, it doesn’t work like that. The southern edge is dying, and the northern edge is expanding.”

“So, then in the future, it will be the same, or maybe even bigger,” suggested Karst.

“No. And here comes the bad news. The world’s major vegetation zones, including the boreal forest, have moved before. The dying parts of the boreal forest will release massive amounts of trapped carbon into the atmosphere. The 2017 summer fires in British Columbia, Canada that released 190 million tonnes of green house gases into the atmosphere will pale in comparison.”

“So, why not just focus on technology to directly remove CO2 from the air to solve problem?” Dmitri’s scientific interest perked up. He liked solving problems. Especially if he could solve them with Susan.

“Too costly, and not nearly efficient enough.” Susan stopped and took a drink, bracing herself to explain what would come next. It wasn’t good.

“In the past forests moved and adapted as climate slowly changed. This change is too fast. Our forests can’t adapt fast enough. Secondly, remember where the forest is heading. To the Canadian Shield in North America and similar terrain in your country, Dmitri. Solid bedrock. Big trees don’t grow so well on solid rock.” She now had the men’s full attention, as they began to understand what the world was facing.

“So why have you summoned us, Dr. Brock?” Karst asked but was beginning to join the dots.

“Because I think if the three of us work together, there might be a way out.” As she said these words, she casually gazed over at the people assembled in the lounge.

“Deutsch bitte, meine Herren.” And then she related her plans in fluent German to the two startled men on what was needed over the next five years. And what would be expected of them. At first there were confused looks, then a dawning understanding, followed by mischievous grins. Dr. Susan Brock picked up her laptop, leaving two other identical ones with further instructions for her colleagues, and walked out of the lounge.

Ottawa, Canada

Colonel Strange, Canadian Secret Service, glared at the man in front of him describing the meeting between the three scientists in Oslo a few days ago.

“What do you mean you couldn’t understand the last part of the conversation?”

“Sir, Dr. Brock was speaking English, and I could clearly hear everything. Then suddenly she switched to German. I don’t understand German.”

A now somewhat enraged Strange shouted. “You at least recorded it, right?”

“No, Sir. I didn’t have time. Or the equipment.”

“Bloody fool. That woman wasn’t just having a drink and picking up men. She’s one of our top scientists in microbiotics. Dangerous stuff, I’m told. We need to keep an eye on her. Sharing information with those two. How dare she without first coming to us. They’re up to something. I know it. I feel it.” Finally Strange looked at the agent and waved his hand. “Dismissed.”

Moscow, Russia

In Moscow, a similar conversation was going on between Lieutenant Korlekov and his agent who reported the same thing about Yashin’s meeting. There was considerable shouting, fist banging and finally stomping feet as the agent fled from his superior’s curses.

Both Strange and Korlekov sat in their respective offices trying to make sense of the meeting. Brock was the ringleader. Whatever they were up to might have international implications that could affect both countries. Strange was tempted just to arrest Brock and throw her in the slammer. And then ask some tough questions. Not very Canadian-like but this was serious business. Korlekov was thinking the same thing. Both men, however, knew, given who they were dealing with, that was impossible.

But before they could do anything, both Brock and Yashin mysteriously disappeared. Just vanished. At that news, a bead of sweat broke out on the men’s faces as they reached for the desk drawer for a much needed drink. Their disappearance would not be easy to explain to their superiors.

2020:  A Small Swedish Community, on the Northern Edge of the Taiga 

They sat around the kitchen table sipping their drinks. Much like their first meeting in Oslo. Talking about the forest’s problems and their project. But many things had changed. Brock and Yashin, working so closely together, had become husband and wife, sharing a passion for their work and each other. And they were no longer just worrying about the forests’ problems. They were trying to solve them.

Finally, Karst spoke. “After reading of your progress, I thought I’d drop by and have a few words.”

“A few words, Karst? How can there only be a few words from a lawyer? Are there issues?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. Your sudden disappearances caused a lot of friction between your countries. CSIS is accusing Russia of kidnapping you, Dr. Brock, to gain insights into your work on microbiotics. And the Russians are accusing the Canadians of whisking away Dr. Yashin for his work in biological genetic engineering. No one in either country, however, has yet added two and two together. They never will because they don’t see the need for cooperation and teamwork.  And that some problems of the world require them, at a high level.” Olsen, automatically reached to run his hands through his hair, apparently not realizing he had none.

“But no one knows, Karst? How we pulled that off? Given who we are?” A now almost white-haired Dmitri was surprised at that. He shook his head. Brock’s plan had been brilliant. But she never told him where it came from and who had orchestrated it. He never asked. Perhaps someday the truth would come out. Now there still were more important things to consider.

Olsen, leaned over the table and in a hushed voice, added. “There’s more, as I’m sure you both heard on the news. Both your fields are closely being scrutinized by the media.”

“I know, I know. Fiddling with nature and turning little robots loose is causing a bit of a shitstorm. Especially among certain political elements of the planet.” Brock knew long ago that this day would come. A day when the big question had to be asked: What are acceptable trade-offs in saving the planet? “We’re past the point of petty ethics, religion, and legalities, Karst. They won’t matter if the whole planet dies. And every living thing on it.”

“I know, Susan. I know. I’ve been making the same arguments to our leaders, but to no avail. They argue this type of research is unethical. Not right, not natural.”

“Hypocrites! All of them. We’ve been fiddling with nature for thousands of years. On all continents, even Antarctica, with the animals and plants, even the ground. We’ve created many synthetic products that are crippling our environment. How is that natural? This is one step further on a scale unimaginable but necessary. If we lose these forests, we’re doomed.”

Dmitri was about to say more when Susan broke in. “Let’s give them a gift. As soon as there’s some economic and political benefit from our work, they’ll shut up real fast. And go on their hypocritical ways.”

“What sort of gift, Susan?”

Susan stood and motioned Karst to follow her. Out in the back yard overlooking fields, Susan pointed to a new crop of what looked like wheat, just coming up. “We’ve had some unexpected results from our research that will benefit more than just the forests. Take these seeds back and let the politicians give them to the farmers. That’ll put smiles on everyone’s faces.”

“But what are these, Susan?”

“Ask Dmitri. It’s his brainchild.” Karst turned to Dmitri, but before he could ask, Susan motioned toward a stand of trees.

“And, Karst, how do like our new trees, and my new organic mat?” At first Karst just stared, speechless as he slowly realized what he was seeing.

After Susan and Dmitri explained their research, Karst could only gasp. He whispered over and over, almost weeping. “This is incredible. Just incredible. Unbelievable. The trees will be able to run north faster now.” Then they went back into the house to have a few more drinks, and settle poor Karst down, who was still mumbling, “Unbelievable, incredible. How did you do it….?”

2050: The Boreal Forest, North West Territories, Canada

The two old men sat on the bench overlooking the little lake surrounded by beautiful forest. Taking in the smells of rich pine and spruce needles, listening to the birds and distant howling of a wolf pack on the hunt.

“Tell me, Alexei, did you ever have doubts on what we were doing? I mean as the leader of Russia then, you were taking a tremendous risk. Not only at home, but abroad. If you were wrong, the world could have turned against you. Your people would have strung you up.”

Alexei Yashin turned to the once Canadian prime minister. “No Gerald. No doubts. Who could have? There were no other solutions. I had faith in what we were doing together. But that young Olsen really convinced me. He has a brilliant legal mind, and he knew how to push the right buttons.”

Gerald Brock nodded, feeling much the same way. Undoubtedly, the two scientists were brilliant in their solution to save the northern forests. But for their brilliance to come to fruition, it took world-wide international cooperation. At the very highest levels.

Alexei stared into the forest, still somewhat shocked by how this had all come about. “Gerald, we couldn’t tell anyone. Too many cooks in the kitchen usually spoil the dinner. There was too much at stake for that to happen.”

“I guess you’re right. We did share a bit at least. The grain that Dmitri gene-engineered tipped the scales. It satisfied a lot of people because of its faster growth and higher yield. It was like manna sent from the heavens. Abruptly, genetic engineering was no longer a problem. Hypocrites.”

“I wonder if they suspect the truth, Gerald, about what else it does. I haven’t said a word. Have you?”

“No. Why bother. They didn’t care about CO2 emissions then, so why would they care if that strain of wheat sucked up five times more CO2 than other strains. And, certainly balanced out the CO2 emissions the dying forests were giving off.”

Unexpectedly, Alexei stood up and started jumping up and down on the ground. Secret Service men suddenly appeared out of the trees, but he waved them off. “Seems solid enough, Gerald. I still don’t know how she managed this.” He stared at what seemingly looked like a normal forest floor. And then jumped on it one more time for good measure.

“She’s a marvel in microbiotics, Alexei. Your Dmitri did well designing those conifer and poplar trees that could grow three times faster and suck up five times more CO2 than the normal boreal forest conifers.”

“Yes, he’s a genius. But, without this mat, those trees could not have grown on the bedrock as the forests moved north. This beneath me is true genius.”

“At first I didn’t believe her when she explained it to me. How could you develop an organic layer, essentially soil, over the top of bedrock, so those trees could grow further north?”

“So, what convinced you?”

“She invited me out to the cottage near the northern edge of the forest. She laid down an organic mat. Then told me to measure its width and thickness. I did. Exactly a metre wide, twenty centimetres thick, and one-hundred metres long. When we came back twenty-four hours later, I measured the mat again. It was ten centimetres wider and two centimetres thicker.”

“At first I thought it was some sort of trick. I had to be sure. So, I camped out all night and took measurements every three hours. Took a lot of good scotch to get that done.”

“She was right, wasn’t she? Or, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Yes, she was right. That bloody mat was growing, with the help of those little bots in there. It was producing soil for those trees to grow in. But even more incredible, it was chewing up about thirty centimetres of bedrock beneath it.”

“But you worried, right, Gerald? Like I did with Dmitri’s genetic engineering. If we let the genie out of the bottle, would we ever control it?”

“Yes. I worried a lot about how to control it.”

“And that was her brilliance as well. This mat was laid down ten years ago. It’s alive but the little bots are dead. They were xenobots, biological robots, with a certain life-span. They did their work, and then were gone. That convinced you, right?”

“Right. We were out of time, and out of solutions.”

The two old men gazed over the lake, lost in their thoughts. Thinking about what might not have been. Perhaps there was a divine being who put all this in place. Suddenly their grandchildren and great grandchildren burst from the forest, followed by Susan and Dmitri. Everyone was flush with the excitement of exploring the forest trails and searching for rare mushrooms for dinner.

Alexei and Gerald looked up and smiled as their family milled around them. They acknowledged their two children. “Finally made it back, did you? We were worried the wolves and bears got you. We were just talking about you…..”

A Time 400 Years Later

The old woman stood with her granddaughter at the edge of the northern forest. Both looked at the dying trees. The trees were no longer able to deal with the harsher winters as the Earth cooled.

“What is happening, grandmother? Are they dying?”

“Yes, they are my child. And soon their kind will run south towards the sun that nourishes them.”

“Is it bad, grandmother? That they run?”

“No, it’s the way of Nature. The trees know when to run. Sometimes we need to help them though.”

The young child wondered whether it had happened before or would ever again.

…………………………..


EndNote

I view our current global warming from a somewhat unique perspective. It’s happened before. In Alberta, for example, thousands of years ago, the prairies were in the Peace River Country as western Canada experienced hot, dry conditions.

However, unlike today, humans, as far as we know, had nothing to do with creating those warmer, drier conditions. We’ve created the problems but we’re struggling to find the will to slow down CO2 emissions, or the technology to allow our forests to adapt to increasing temperatures.

The fun part about fiction, is it lets you dream and imagine. Perhaps I’m being naive to think that countries can work together on issues of a global scale. Or, that there are ways we can counter what we have created. Nanotechnology, however, is not a dream. Nor are genetically engineered trees that can suck up more CO2 emissions. That is already in the works.

I’ll leave it at that. I’m an optimist. Whatever humans imagine they have often created. So maybe there’s hope for the mess we’re in.

……………………….

‘At the Junction of the Bad and Red Deer Rivers.’ Searching for Peter Fidler’s Long Lost Chesterfield House. Have We Finally Found It?

Wooden statue of trader, mapmaker, Peter Fidler, Elk Point, Alberta, Canada. Fidler served at the nearby Hudson’s Bay Company Buckingham House (c.1792-1800), located along the North Saskatchewan River, just southeast of Elk Point. https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3529/3967919062_060d0fee79_z.jpg

Note: This is a revised and condensed version of an article we recently published in the Saskatchewan Archaeological Newsletter Quarterly, May, 2021 edition, regarding our search for the the Chesterfield House fur trade sites in Spring, 2021. Readers are referred to this edition of the Quarterly for a more detailed version of our findings.

Time and the Unknown

Ah, the mystery of the unknown! It’s one of the things that first drew me to history and archaeology. The thrill of discovering new facts, objects or places, lost or abandoned centuries ago. It didn’t matter if they were only minor footnotes in the bigger picture of human history.

One of the most rewarding and challenging experiences in my career was searching for the many lost fur trade posts in western Canada. The remains of some lay hidden in front of our very noses. Others, so remote and covered by nature, it took considerable effort or sensitive equipment to eventually find them. Still others guard their hiding places well, and to this day, elude discovery.

The remains of the last Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton (c.1830-1915), located on the Alberta legislature grounds. A fort, whose location was known by only a few historians and archaeologists. In a survey, conducted while excavating this fort in the early 1990s, we discovered that over 60% of the public had no idea the original fort was located on the current Alberta legislature grounds in the heart of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

This is a story about a search for one of those fur trade post that has eluded us for many years – Chesterfield House. A search that began in the mid-1960s. But for me it began in c.2005 and continues to this day. Because no one has yet found Chesterfield House.

Searching for Canada’s Fur Trade Forts

In an earlier blog I talked about explorer and mapmaker David Thompson. One of the world’s most remarkable geographers and mapmakers. Thompson visited many western fur trade forts and wrote about them or mapped them. Often he left behind clues for us relocate them. Such as the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c1798-1830) site in northern Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1894&action=edit)

In this post I focus on another lesser-known but equally competent trader, surveyor and mapmaker, Peter Fidler of the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC). And in particular, his brief, and sometimes scary stay in southern Saskatchewan at the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers where he would build his fort.

In the fall of 1800 Fidler built Chesterfield House for the HBC. Soon after the North West Company (NWC) built alongside the HBC post, followed by the XY Company. Many (including me) have searched for them but, to this day, they have never been found.

The confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Rivers today, near the Saskatchewan-Alberta border, Canada. Somewhere down there on the river flats are the remains of three fur trade forts, over two-hundred years old. Their whereabouts remains a mystery.

Peter Fidler

Born at Bolsover, Derbyshire, England, Peter Fidler (16 August 1769 – 17 December 1822) joined the HBC in 1788. He was trained in surveying and astronomy by Philip Turnor who also trained David Thompson. Fidler became the Company’s chief surveyor and map-maker, much like David Thompson for the NWC.

While acting as trader, explorer, and mapmaker, Fidler also observed and wrote about the Indigenous peoples of the region. He married a Cree woman and learned Native languages to carry out the trade. Occasionally he convinced his Native informants to draw maps of their territories for him. Today these are some of the few surviving Native maps of western Canada (see a former post on the Ki-oo-cus map of southern and central Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=266&action=edit). His journeys, largely undertaken in western Canada, covered an estimated 48,000 miles on horseback, foot, canoe and dog team.

Fidler’s superiors admired his toughness and fortitude. For example, while traveling and wintering with the Chipewyan in northern Alberta and the NWT, a near-starving Fidler mentioned what parts of a game animal they ate to stay alive: “We eat everything except the manure.”

Fidler had some incredible adventures as a trader and explorer for the HBC. A few could have ended his life. One of these adventures required constructing a fur trade post on the Western Canadian prairies. He built the fort with the intent of trading with Plains First Nations peoples. After only a few years, Fidler and the other Companies abandoned their forts, barely escaping with their lives.

A map, by Peter Fidler, of the Upper Assiniboine and Swan Lake Regions. Fidler was a very accurate surveyor and cartographer. Not only did he map the lakes, rivers and important land features, he also accurately plotted the locations of the various fur trade post on those maps. This point becomes important later.
Like David Thompson, Peter Fidler used a line-track survey method when mapping the South Saskatchewan River. He would take a compass bearing and then estimate a distance to map that part of the river. This is part of Fidler’s survey of the South Saskatchewan River, up to the confluence of the Red Deer River, superimposed over today’s South Saskatchewan River route. Based on these and other evidence, we assume that Fidler was an accurate surveyor, especially calculating latitude.

Where did the Companies Build?

For many years I heard about the mysterious Chesterfield House(s) and attempts to find them. All searches ended in failure. But why? How could three forts of considerable size, just disappear, without a trace, in the valleys of the Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers? Or perhaps, as some researchers suggested, had those waters already swallowed them up leaving no trace behind?

In 2005, while visiting and hunting in the area, and intrigued with the lost Chesterfield House, I too joined the search.

The South Saskatchewan River Valley near Empress. So beautiful with its wide open prairie expanses and bright blue skies.

As with other similar searches, nothing is ever as simple as it first appears. This quest was no exception. It has taken me since 2005 to finally piece enough evidence together to make the modest claim that I might have a candidate where these fur trade forts were built. And I, like others before me, could be totally wrong.

Let’s start our search with Fidler’s Chesterfield House HBC journals (1800 – 1802). In them he gives only a few but very specific references to the fort’s location.

This photograph was taken from the east looking towards the forks of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. Fidler’s two references to the fort’s location are pretty specific. At first I thought he might have built on the island you see in this image which is in front (east) of the juncture of the two rivers. But then in the second quote he specifically says they built on the north side of the river(s). The ‘Bad’ River refers to the South Saskatchewan River. But Fidler has some reservations building on this spot: “Crossed the river to north side and looked out for a place to build at. The woods here are few and bad for building with.” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI) So, Fidler either moved to where there was more suitable wood to build with or he cut wood from elsewhere and hauled it to the junction of the two rivers.

Fidler gives the latitude of the south bank of the Red Deer River where he intends to build: 50o, 55’, 5” (50.9222o). Fidler’s latitude calculations were quite accurate. Longitude was not. But, if we take Fidler at his word, we really don’t need longitude because Fidler gives us a fairly precise east-west reference point where he built the fort – the confluence of the two rivers.

A satellite image of the confluence of the two rivers. The problem with river confluences, is that they can move. You can see the old Red Deer River channels in this image (shown in dark green). At one point in time it flowed into the South Saskatchewan River further north. Some researchers believed this was the original confluence in 1800 and looked for the forts in that area. But, Fidler’s 50o, 55’, 5” (50.9222o) is much closer to the present confluence than to the northern older one.
Peter Fidler’s longitude for the confluence of the rivers was out a considerable distance. Not unusual in those days when highly accurate time pieces were required to estimate how far west from Greenwich Mean time you were located. Fidler’s latitude however, was remarkably accurate, being approximately 15″ or +/- 450 metres out.

While rereading Fidler’s published journals (for the umpteenth time) this spring, I noticed at the end of the 1800-01 trading season a note by the editor: “[Meteorological and Astronomical Observations, made at Chesterfield House, covering 15 manuscript pages, not printed]” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). I wondered if Fidler gave a more accurate reading of latitude and longitude for Chesterfield House in those unpublished notes. Fortunately I was able to get hold of a copy of his original journal, including the missing 15 pages.

Yes, indeed. Fidler gives two readings for latitude at Chesterfield House: 1) 50o55’12” (50.920o); and, 2) 50o55’21’’ (50.9225o). Both readings are relatively similar to his original north riverbank reading recorded at the confluence of the two rivers where initially he wanted to build. Had they been significantly different then it might suggest he built elsewhere (than right at the confluence).

Next I looked at a few historic maps of the area. One map shows the location of Chesterfield House, marked by a dot, on the north side of the South Saskatchewan River, some distance downriver from the forks. But Fidler stated, “…opposite the mouth of the Red Deers River where we are to build…”

This particular map of the western prairies, shows the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers, with a dot depicting the location of Chesterfield House. That dot is east of the forks on the north bank of the South Saskatchewan River. It likely refers to the later post built by the HBC downriver from the forks in 1821 (which also has never been found). (https://earlycanadianhistory.ca/2018/06/18/what-peter-fidler-didnt-report/)

Then I found another map drawn by both Fidler and his Blackfoot informant, Ak ko Wee ak in 1802. Does the straight line across the Red Deer River, with Chesterfield House’ written on it, indicate where the fort was built? If so, it was built upriver from the confluence of the two rivers.

A map drawn by Fidler’s Blackfoot informant Ak ko Wee ak in 1802. Fidler wrote the names of places on the map. On that map there is a straight vertical line across the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. If the line represents where the fort was built, then Chesterfield House was located some distance (distance unknown, because there is no scale) up the Red Deer River. (From HBCA PAM: E.3/2 fos. 103d)
On this map, drawn by Fidler’s informant, Ak ko mok ki, in 1802, there is a little drawing of Chesterfield House located on the north side of the river(s). But its location is very general. The fort could be anywhere within miles of the forks. (From HBCA B.39/a/2 fo.93)

Unfortunately no one, while searching for the forts, has taken the Native maps or Fidler’s latitude reading of the forts location very seriously. Keep in mind, Fidler was a very accurate surveyor for his day, especially when it came to calculating latitude. His readings were out by about 15 seconds of latitude, or +/- 450 metres.

If we ran his latitude for Chesterfield House as a straight straight line across a current map, assuming about 15 seconds (~450m) of error (shown by orange dashed lines on either side of the black line), where might the fort(s) be located?

Peter Fidler’s latitude projected onto a current map of the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. The orange dashed lines represent the margins of error around his calculations. The orange elliptical shapes are where other archaeologists have searched for the lost forts. The blue elliptical shapes are where no one has searched but are well within Peter Fidler’s margin of error for latitude.
Peter Fidler’s latitude for Chesterfield House, and margins of error, superimposed on a current satellite image of the area. The small yellow rectangle represents the area we are interested in and will discuss shortly. The other dashed line further north is another area archaeologists searched for the forts. The latitude of this area is well beyond Fidler’s margins of error.

Another little hint, where the Chesterfield forts might have been built, was a comment in Peter Fidler’s journals. “Dug up the small bateau that was laid up in the spring: the heavy rise of water in the summer had buried it four feet deep in sand.” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). Presumably the boat was near the fort. If so, it suggests the fort was located on an inside meander of the river, where flood sediments are deposited. Instead of the outside meander where high water cuts away the bank.

We haven’t looked for these forts at all the possible places that are within Fidler’s range of error for latitude. And there are reasons for it. This is large area filled with dense wolf willow scrub and wild rose bushes that is not too pleasant to walk through, or find things. And Fidler’s reference to the forts being built at the forks of the rivers has perhaps been taken too literally. Would the London Committee reading his journals really care if he built a mile or two either way of the forks?

Searching for rock historic building chimney piles in the dense bush on the lower terraces of the Red Deer River. In some places visibility is poor and walking is tough. Currently there is no LIDAR (laser imaging, detection, and ranging coverage) for this area, which would help immensely to expose detailed surface ground contouring and possible evidence of the sites.

To add yet another obstacle to our search, not everything historical in this area is related to the early 19th century fur trade. This area was occupied and traveled over for thousands of years by First Nations Peoples. It became an important Metis settlement, Riviere La Biche, in the 1870s and 1880s, which would have left physical remains similar to those present at earlier fur trade forts.

A late 19th century chimney and fireplace, built by trappers, the Adsett brothers, still stands in one of the local farmyards in the area. The former Metis settlement of Riviere La Biche, was located around the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. People built chimneys and fireplaces, similar to these, during the early fur trade. These and other building remains, such as cellars, would be indistinguishable from one another without detailed archaeological exploration. However, unlike the Metis cabins which are scattered over a large area, the Chesterfield House forts, and their buildings, were built in a smaller area, surrounded by stockades.

The Search Continues, Spring 2021

This spring (2021), when preparing this blog, I wanted a good satellite image of the forks area where Chesterfield House might be located. While doing so I noticed a long rectangle-shaped, light-colored outline on the satellite image.

This is the image of the Red Deer River flats on one of the meanders that I first looked at. At this height do you see what I see? Or, do I just have an supercharged imagination?
Here is a closer view of the satellite image. Do you see the long rectangle, lightly highlighted, oriented in a northeast-southwest direction in this image? Quite often simple aerial photography and other types of imagery can pick up features from the air, not seen on the ground by the naked eye.

This is the feature I see when looking the the satellite image. The long rectangle is relatively well-pronounced. The other lines to the west are not as definite. The NWC and HBC were built together, enclosed in a common stockade, which is explains the long, rectangular outline. Fidler states the XY Company built just west of his fort.

After reviewing the historic documents, satellite images, and constructing arguments that this might be the lost Chesterfield House forts, the next step was to re-revisit the site and look for physical clues on the ground.

So, my wife, Gabriella Prager, also an archaeologist, and I drove to the Empress area in April to see what we could see. When I visited this same location in 2005, I saw some rock scatters and slight depressions. It was time to reevaluate what those features might be, relative to this new-found evidence.

Once there, we looked for depressions, pits, rocks or mounds or any other evidence that could indicate a human occupation. The surface of this area is quite undulating and uneven from repeated flooding and scouring over the years. Just how much sediment covers the original 1800 ground surface is uncertain without excavating. However, based on other floodplains of this vintage (e.g., the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I site, northern Alberta), there could be as much as one-half metre or more sediments covering the original land surface and the remains of anything built on that surface. Fidler’s description of the bateau buried in over four feet of river sediments is most telling in this regard. And that was just one of many flooding events since then.

The area in question, where the long rectangular outline in the satellite photograph appears. Slightly elevated, the area contains little shrubbery, as was also the case in 2005.

When walking the area we noticed the ground was slightly elevated on the east and south sides. These elevated areas were likely responsible for the light-colored lines we saw on the satellite image. Normally, old stockade lines are slightly depressed, even after flooding. We did however also notice a few rock scatters and slight depressions with the rectangular outline.

Walking along the elevated ridge on the east side of the rectangle. This could be an old river terrace edge. The south edge is also elevated. However, there are no visible surface signs of anything where the west and north lines occur on the satellite image.
A small scatter of rocks. Possibly the remnants of a fireplace. But from what time period? Remember, this is a floodplain and rocks don’t float. So, it’s not a natural event. This definitely is evidence of human activities.
Gabriella Prager taking notes and GPS coordinates of a small depression on the site.

What We Concluded

It would be folly to state, without first excavating and testing this area, that we have discovered the Chesterfield House sites. We first need to find certain kinds of other archaeological evidence to suggest that these features, and that intriguing rectangular satellite image, are related to the early 19th century fur trade, and not some later period Metis household: 1) footer trenches representing palisades; 2) early 19th century artifacts representing the time period in question; 3) more building remains confined to the rectangle; and, 4) considerable amounts of animal bone from both human consumption of wild game and making meat provisions for the trip downriver.

There are things about this site that are troubling and do not fit what I expect to see on the surface of the ground; if this were a historic fur trade fort. First is the lack of more obvious visible surface features such as chimney piles and cellar depressions. Second, is the lack of visible faunal debris, or any artifacts. Given the amount of meat consumed, animal bone remains are typically considerable at forts such as this.

To some degree, this lack of evidence might be explained by the amount of flooding that has occurred in the area. If substantial, it may have covered any historic remains with considerable sediments and infilling most depressions that would be cellars, privies, and refuse pits. However, at other fur trade sites abandoned for over 200 years and constantly flooded, we have observed more pronounced surface features than we see here. However, currently we know little about flooding episodes and depositional rate of sediments of the Red Deer River, which could be quite different from our northern rivers.

To be clear, without further investigations, what we (and others) have found is definite proof of a human occupation of some sort at this spot. Based on the historic evidence regarding Chesterfield House, this location is a suitable candidate for these early NWC, HBC and XY Company forts. But, that’s as far as we can go presently. The area warrants further archaeological investigations to either refute or verify our claim.

EndNote

For those of who you who are aspiring students of history or archaeology, there’s a simple lesson here. Combining the evidence from two disciplines (history and archaeology) usually results in a more complete understating of human history. Not always, but better two independent lines of evidence to examine a problem of history, than only one. And perhaps, with the new remote sensing imagery, more than only two disciplines is necessary to eventually find these rather elusive historic forts.

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 guessing and experimenting with different 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 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.