FOUR DIRECTIONS INSTITUTE

Teaching 3rd and 4th Graders to Love  California Indian History and Culture: An On-Line and In-Class Adventure

Module 4.1:  Components of Culture

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Part II: Components of Culture

Copyright 1998 by Tad Beckman, Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA 91711


 

Chaw'se is the Sierra Miwok name for Indian Grinding Rock State Historic Park, in Volcano. The overarching importance of the site is the large collection of bedrock grinding holes which is, of course, central to the acorn as a source of food in California. But nearby streams yielded fish and the encompassing forest yielded deer. It was a richly endowed environment. In the meadows, we can see replicas of the conical houses made of stacked and lashed long bark planks, taken from large pine and fir trees. There are also tall columnar granaries where acorns were stored. In the museum, there is a fine collection of dance regalia and instruments, signifying aspects of the ritual culture possessed by these people. There are also beautifully woven baskets and finely designed bows, arrows, and other elements of their material arts. If we are lucky enough to visit during a "Big Time," we may even hear traditional stories and see dances as well as athletic games.

While every one of California's more than one hundred tribes and tribelets possessed unique socio-cultural features and lived in different ecological niches, providing diverse resources, there still remain broad generalizations that are possible. These generalizations stem from the common relationship of these societies to hunter-gatherer cultures and traditions. What I propose to do here is to paint this broad picture of the components of culture. Afterwards, we will move in the opposing direction and examine several tribes in considerable detail, seeing how differences arose out of environments, social conditions, and long-standing traditions.

Before proceeding, however, there are several very general points to be made and these will help to orient the overall discussion of the components of culture. What is culture? What are typical components of culture? What factors tend toward unification of human cultures? What factors tend toward diversification and uniqueness? Let us try to answer some of these questions before we proceed.

Society and Culture

It has long been said that humans are "social animals." What we mean by this is precisely what we can observe. Like other animals, humans are observable objects that can be systematically described by biology. Like many other animals, however, humans behave in repeating patterns of interaction with other humans which can also be systematically described. Adult male and female humans dwell together and raise children cooperatively. While all humans may perform certain tasks in more-or-less the same ways, throughout a period of time, some will perform special tasks and share the results with others. When a human dies, others close to it pass through a grieving behavior and dispose of the body in regular ways. What we mean by society, then, is the complex of relationships or mutual behaviors that humans engage in with each other. These are described systematically by social scientists.

While animals other than humans are "social" in the sense defined, here, humans are uniquely social in that they possess cultures. But what does this mean? The point is that humans have to learn how to live in society and this is because human societies are much more complex than instinctive societies. Bees are social in the sense that an observer can distinguish bees performing different tasks and cooperating with each other toward what seem to be common ends. Our concept of bees, however, does not include the notion that bees have to learn their social roles and purposes. Culture, then, is the fabric of learning that stands in back of and sustains a human society. Since human societies are quite complex and are observably quite different from one another, we judge that they belong to quite different cultures. One approach is simply to observe diverse societies and describe them for posterity. A more interesting approach, however, is to develop a picture of each culture and to be in a position to understand why certain social behaviors are preferred and maintained. (Kroeber, 1948; ch. 1)

In a certain society, we may observe that newly born babies are always taken to a church where they meet other members of their extended families and friends and have the church ritualist sprinkle water on the baby in a sacred manner. The behavior can be seen over and over and it is obviously "social" behavior as opposed to "biological." What cultural studies seeks to tell us is why parents do this in a particular society. How do they learn this behavior? And what values or purposes do they have in mind when they perform this way? It is, in fact, a form of "dedication" ceremony that has many interesting effects. It may involve giving a name in a sacred manner; it may involve establishing the child's relationship with spiritual powers; and it may also involve a practical commitment by some other person to accept responsibility for the child's practical or spiritual needs if the parents should die or otherwise be unable to carry these out. What is important to note is that these reasons are not, in themselves, part of observable social behavior but, rather, lie behind it. In this simplified sense, then, culture is a matrix in which society develops. It belongs more to the mental development of humans than to their physical or biological development. Its elements may be spoken through language or demonstrated through example or elevated before us in symbols. All of these are important clues in cultural studies.

Components of Culture

Humans have specific needs relating to their survival. For instance, all humans behave in observable ways to procure foods. Some of these behaviors are overtly social, like cooperative hunting. But even when individuals engage in the food quest, it is almost always in the context of social experience, that is, a learned behavior. Adults teach their children what food resources are reliable and how or when to obtain them. The food quest is a component of every human culture.

At the same time, the specific food resources available to a people and, consequently, entering into the people's shared knowledge can vary widely from one region of human habitation to another. One specific food culture can be very different from another because each borrows on the availability of edible materials in its region. More interesting, perhaps, is the fact that, even when a food resource is available in each of two regions, it may enter the food cultures in quite different ways. Why this is the case may be very difficult or even impossible to explain. On obvious example, perhaps, is people's diverse sentiments about eating the human species itself --- cannibalism, which in certain parts of the world is even broken down into such details as whether one will eat only people of different tribes or will eat of one's own.

There are other areas of similarity in human cultures. All humans are tool makers and tool users, for instance. Paleontologists actually use tool making as one of the horizons for development from homonid to human. Thus, humans utilize various material objects in their environment in the making of tools. This, too, is learned behavior. So we can examine the specific kinds of tools made in order to discover attributes of culture. The making of tools brings cultures together but the specifications of tool designs, uses, and decorations demonstrates their differences.

We have already suggested that society is a common human possession, but societies also differ. Specific human attributes lead to common cultural components that cause certain elements to occur in virtually all societies, of course. At birth, humans are vulnerable and they remain vulnerable for a long period of time. All human societies, then, provide for child support and development. Perhaps the parents remain together and provide support; perhaps a lone mother lives with an extended family in which the older generation accepts child-rearing responsibilities; but perhaps there is even a systematic arrangement for adopting children out to other members of a society. Whatever culture dictates, it is followed in a particular society more often than not.

Other social institutions exist as well. Children must learn; children must become adults; adults must marry (or at least arrange for cohabitation and procreation); adults must organize the sharing of resources and acceptance of other responsibilities; and finally, old people must die. All of these events lie along the human path from birth to death and arise out of biological necessity. Thus, all cultural understanding must deal with these in some way by configuring society in some way to meet their needs. The presence of these institutions is not surprising; what is surprising is the variety of ways in which cultures come together to solve the basic problems.

Yet another area of social behavior is human reverance for the spiritual world and this usually can be identified by human's regard for sacred things and by their practices of ritual activity. Niether biology nor physical necessity explain this; yet we find it in almost all societies. It is, thus, an almost purely cultural attribute of society; that is, it comes almost purely out of people's mental and emotional states. It is, as psychoanalyst Carl Jung suggested, an attribute of the human's "collective unconscious." It is no surprise, then, that the divergence of concepts of the sacred and of patterns of ritual is the greatest in comparative cultural studies. What is socially most comparable is the institution itself and the ways in which the institution is supported by specific human roles or stations.

Finally, we should not miss stories, songs, and dances. All humans seem to need entertainment as a part of social intercourse. In fact, entertainment may be a crucial way in which humans collectively reassure each other about their emotional bonds and mutual reliability. They also provide opportunities for symbolism which reinforce fundamental cultural ideas. They may even do a certain amount of instruction, especially moral instruction in the ways of correct behavior. Repeating the general rule one last time, the occurrence of these in a culture as a regular component is no surprise. Nevertheless, local customs, traditions, and idiosyncracies may cause the specific to diverge substantially. This is probably less likely in the matter of entertainment than it is in the matter of spiritualism, however; because entertainment embraces a society's cultural roots more comprehensively. It is, in this sense, easier for foreign peoples to come together through entertainment than it is through religion. They are, in fact, more likely to fight over religion; whereas, I know of no case where one people has fought another over their specific culture of entertainment.

In conclusion, the general picture we should have of California's indigenous people is that of life directly and intelligently connected with the environment, so thoroughly integrated socially as to reveal the presence of complex cultural characteristics. Thus, the immediate features of geography determined their being far more than genetic roots. Only in languages and, thus perhaps also, in narratives did those roots exercise some counter-influence.

In this section, we will survey the distinctive cultural components that one can find throughout California. The particular components have already been mentioned, by way of illustration. They are the quest for food, utilization of other material resources, the maintenance of social order, spiritualism and shamanism, and narrative traditions. It is by no means the case that all California cultures shared a common approach to these issues; however, because of their very basic nature, it is the case that all cultures faced these issues in some way. In considering these cultural components, there are some broad generalizations that we can make; and by creating a general picture of California in the present section, we can avoid needless repetition, later, when we discuss some particular cultures and explore the details of their unique situations.


 

Bibliography

Kroeber, A. L. Anthropology, Revised Edition (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1948)

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Chapter 4: Food Quest

Copyright 1998 by Tad Beckman, Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA 91711


As you drive along the narrow asphalt road, in the Sierra foothills, you come over a small rise and turn hard right past a split-rail fence, looking down across a meadow. The trees are old oaks, mostly valley oaks, with a few black oaks mixed in. Turning into a small looped parking area, you scan the meadow. There is a small fresh creek cutting through the far northeastern corner and dropping down toward the Cosumnes River. The meadow itself is dry, on this autumn day, and there are acorns lying on the ground, under the great trees.

In the foreground, there is a very large granite outcropping, perhaps a hundred feet long by thirty feet wide, looking like the shallow back of a grey whale, emerging from the grassy floor of meadow. It is under the protective limbs of several great oak trees. In this early morning, after an evening rain, the granite slab is dotted with small pools, more than you can count. Each of these, fashioned for so long and by so many hands and through so many generations, is a wonderfully symmetrical grinding bowl of granite.

This is Chaw'se, officially known as Indian Grinding Rock State Historical Park, the spiritual home of many Sierra Miwoks. In late September, every year, they gather here for their "Big Time" celebration, with singing, dancing, gaming competitions, and story telling. All this is in honor of the acorn, the staple food of California. They come together in the great dance house, at the northwest end of the meadow, tucked under a grove of huge oaks, with its conical roof, made out of long bark slabs overlapping. They put on feathered hats and aprons, grab clapper sticks, flutes, and whistles, and they sing and dance the old songs in the old ways.

And the women, once again, sit on the granite bedrock and pound acorns, with long rock pestles, into a fine meal while watching the going-and-coming of people. And as they bend over these grinding holes and judge the fineness of acorn flour, they are recalling other times, remembering the seasons just past, praising children for their newly acquired skills, and, yes, gossiping about young men and teasing each other.

Perhaps there are no ghosts here as such; but there is a pervasive spirit and sacred character and a definite, fine sense of continuity.


What was life like without Vons and Alpha Beta, McDonalds, 31 Flavors, and Dodger Dogs? It is truly difficult for Americans of our age to understand the quest for food of indigenous people. The whole tendency of American culture has been toward fast and convenient food. For those of us who still shop for food, we find markets that are primarily devoted to prepared or synthetic foods. Check your own market. Usually the fresh foods --- meaning those closest to a natural product --- are only arranged around the outer perimeter, leaving the majority of square footage to prepared foods. Even with fresh foods, we do everything possible to disguise the origin, especially in the butchering and packaging of fish and meats. In the vegetable and fruits section, mildly blemished produce is usually thrown away since Americans are led to believe that acceptable vegetables and fruits are only those that meet some ideal of visual perfection. In short, everything in the American quest for food is separated from the realities of nature.

 

Interestingly, the history of Vons and Alpha Beta and similar marketing establishments is less than a wink-of-the-eye in the extensive history of human habitation of the world. Even agricultural human cultures, we may recall, are only about 5000 years old for homo sapiens sapiens, a mere one tenth of this species total age. As late as 1900, 80% of Americans still lived in rural areas and pursued rural agricultural economies. In a very short period of time, we have virtually lost the fundamental knowledge of living off the land that preserved humans for millenia. Not only that but we have also destroyed or displaced most of the natural animals and plants that provided for our indigenous and agricultural ancestors.

In this section, I want to offer a general picture of the foods that Californians hunted, harvested, and prepared. The picture is drawn from the late Pacific Period, that is, material cultures just prior to arrival of the Franciscans. I have focused attention solely on food production; however, all animals and many plants were used for other purposes as well. In a later chapter on "material resources and ethnobotany" I will discuss these other uses of animals and plants. This is merely a general picture and unique situations will be explored under the detailed descriptions of some tribes.

The Acorn

While Native Californians hunted birds, reptiles, and mammals available in their locales, and while they fished, hunted sea mammals, and harvested shell fish, when close to these resources, the preeminent staple food of California was the acorn. It would be impossible to exaggerate the importance of the acorn. There are eighteen species and thirty varieties of oak trees and shrubs in California, and they cover huge portions of the state, including even some high desert terrains. (Pavlik, et al, 1991) Even the natives living in areas with sparse oak populations still depended on acorns and usually traveled considerable distances to participate in the annual acorn harvests. Alfred Kroeber estimated that acorn meal represented the primary daily food for more than three fourths of California's indigenous people.

In their book, The Natural World of the California Indians, Heizer and Elsasser presented data comparing the nutritional values of several acorn varieties with various non-Indian foods. I have reproduced portions of this data in Table 3, below. The annual crop in California was in the millions of tons of acorns and fed insects, birds (especially the acorn woodpecker), rodents, and bears as well as Indigenous people.

Table 3. Nutritional Comparisons

 
Seed Water Protein Fats Fiber Carbohydrate
Coast Live Oak 29.10 4.88 13.05 9.04 42.52
Canyon Oak 42.10 2.63 5.50 8.10 40.42
Blue Oak 33.60 4.00 5.90 7.15 47.80
Oregon Oak 30.70 3.00 3.40 9.10 52.45
Black & Kellogg Oak 31.40 3.44 13.55 8.60 41.81
Valley Oak 40.80 3.19 3.60 6.15 44.91
maize 12.50 9.2 1.9 1.0 74.40
wheat 11.5 11.4 1.0 0.2 75.40
barley 10.10 8.70 1.90 5.70 71.00
peanuts 9.4 19.4 27.5 ? 15.30
kidney beans ? 24.2 1.2 ? ?

(Figures are percentages by weight.)

Acorn gathering occured in the autumn and was a community activity supported with a wide variety of ceremonies, which will be described in a later chapter. Typically, the early fall of acorns was ignored since these were usually insect infested; then the second, heavy fall was harvested about a month later. Men and older boys often climbed into the larger trees to shake the acorns loose, while women and children gathered the fallen acorns from the ground. The acorns were carried in conically shaped burden baskets, some finely woven and decorated with patterns and others merely in wicker style.

One of the virtues of the acorn, as a staple food source, was its sturdy shell; because of this shell and the gradual dehydration that it allowed, acorns could be stored in large granaries through the year and withdrawn for further processing as needed. Needless to say, the granaries had to be weatherproofed and protected against the invasions of insects and other animals. Insects were usually repelled by lining the granary with various leaves (such as bay laurel or wormwood) and herbs; rodents were discouraged with bark lining; and larger animals were usually excluded by building the granaries on stilts or placing them otherwise out of reach.

Heizer and Elsasser reported that a large oak tree could yield about 500 pounds of acorns. A family of Indians (perhaps six people average) could harvest more than a ton of acorns in a full day's work. The average household granary is likely to have stored more than 2.5 tons of acorns, and the nutritional yield from this would be 5636 kcal. per person per day throughout the year, more than the body required. Harvesting usually continued for several weeks and a single family may have harvested as many as seventeen tons, far more than needed personally; but the acorn crop needed to be re-distributed throughout the village.

All acorns contain some tannic acid and most contain quite a bit. To be eaten the meal must be processed to eliminate the tannin, and this was done by passing large amounts of cool water through it. Acorns were removed from the granary and the shells, now hardened by dehydration, were split by hammering the blossom end with a rock. (If needed, acorns could be dried more quickly by allowing them to sit out in the sun or by warming them in a wicker basket over a fire.) The acorn meat was split and the fiberous sheath discarded. The cream colored meats were then hammered with a rock pestle until fine enough. Acorns were not ground since their high content of oil will emerge under pressure, yielding something like peanut butter. As pounded proceeded, new acorn meats were added. Periodically, the whole mixture was sieved, using a basket or tray, and the fine meal was put aside. This whole process was achieved usually with a rock mortar and pestle; sometimes the mortar depression was in bedrock. Often, women used a basketry hopper (a bottomless conical basket) cemented around the mortar depression with asphaltum or pine pitch in order to keep the acorns from flying out during the pounding process.

The leaching process was almost universally achieved by placing the meal in a sand "basin" built up above ground, shaped somewhat like a very wide-mouthed volcano, usually lining it with leaves and covering it with small branches to provide even flow, pouring successive portions of spring water over it. The leached edible acorn meal could be baked into cakes or mixed with warm water to provide a porridge or mush. Dried (often ground) meats could be added to the mush to provide greater nutrition and diverse tastes; also, various berries or fruits could be added for sweatening and taste. A "bread" was prepared by molding an acorn paste (mixed with a tiny amount of red clay) into a two-inch thick loaf and baking it wrapped in a leaf jacket overnight. The baked product was jet black but had the consistency of soft cheese and had sweatened somewhat by the conversion of starch to sugar. This bread would harden in a few days and could be carried easily while traveling.

Other Staple Grains

There were, of course, some areas of California where oak trees did not grow and where the trip involved in finding acorns was too taxing and unprofitable. While people dwelling in these areas often traded for acorns, they needed alternative staple grains or nuts. Two of the most important groups of people, in this category, were those living to the east of the Sierra crest and those living in the desert regions of Southern California.

The staple food for people in the Great Basin regions east of the Sierra was the pine nut, especially the nut of the single-needle piņon pine, or pinus monophillia. Piņon pines are especially prevalent in the foothill areas east of the Sierras, though they are also present occasionally in the foothills of the southern deserts. Compared with the black oak, in Table #3, piņon nuts have the same amount of protein but three times the amount of fat and only a third the amount of carbohydrate.

Pine nuts were harvested in the late summer or very early autumn as the pine cones began to drop. This too was a significant social occasion, and the stands of pines were sacred territory. Piņon cones, which are small, hard, and pitch covered, were knocked off the relatively small trees with a long harvesting pole, shaped with a hooked end for this purpose. The cones had to be beaten and were sometimes roasted near a fire in order to open them and allow removal of the nuts. Piņon nuts are covered with a sturdy brown shell, similar in quality to the acorn shell, and have to be roasted in order to harden this shell so that it can be easily cracked. Roasting was achieved by rocking the nuts back-and-forth and flipping them in a large basketry tray, or winnowing tray, with hot coals from the fire. Once roasted, the shells were lightly cracked on a metate or mortar, exposing the blonde colored nuts. The shell fragments were winnowed away.

Unlike acorns, pine nuts needed no chemical processing; they could be eaten raw. Commonly, they were roasted further, ground into a fine meal, and eaten in the form of a mush. Like acorn mush, this could become the basis of a more substantial meal by addition of ground dried meats. Roasted pine nuts could be stored for later consumption; and large baskets, sacks, or ollas were used for this purpose.

While the pine nut harvest was an essential staple to those living east of the Sierras, we should not ignore the fact that pine nuts were gathered, processed, and eaten by almost all Californians. Where piņon pines did not occur, there were other pine trees to be exploited.

In most of the Southern California desert regions, pines are rare and occur only in the higher surrounding mountains. For these people mesquite beans and screwbeans (both of the genus prosopis) acquired comparable importance to that of the acorn as a staple food. Compared to barley, the honey mesquite bean has similar protein and fat content and only slightly less carbohydrate value. Like pine nuts, the mesquite bean required no chemical processing to make it edible. In fact, the crop was utilized at three times of the year. Blossoms were harvested in spring; the green newly formed beans were harvested in early summer; and the ripe, dried bean pods were harvested in early autumn. All were eaten.

Blossoms were roasted somewhat, until sticky, and were rolled into balls which were eaten. The green beans were pounded into a pulpy mass in a wooden mortar made of a large mesquite stump hollowed out. The aqueous mass could be stored in an olla (where it may have fermented slightly) and was drunk throughout the summer. The dried pods could be stored in granaries for use throughout the year. They could be eaten whole but were more commonly ground with a Southwestern style stone mano and metate to produce a meal. The bean meal was usually first molded into a thick cake which could be eaten directly but could also be reduced to a mush later.

These were the basics in California diet, like bread and hot cereals in our own diet; everything else was additional. And there was very much more. Virtually every locale included a multitude of flowering plants and grasses whose seeds were harvested, stored in large baskets or pottery jugs (in the South), and ground into fine flours that could be added to mush to produce special flavors or used otherwise. In addition, many green plants were selected as vegetable stock, in season, and bulbs or tubors were harvested all over the state. For example, the desert Indians were especially dependent on the various subspecies of agave (century plant); and virtually all parts of the plant could be eaten at some time during the year.

Mammals and Birds

Native Californians hunted mammals and birds, but neither could be called a staple food. Hunting was usually seasonal and, while meats could be dried, salted, or smoked, they were rarely so plentiful that a supply would sustain people throughout the year, until the next season. Availability was strongly dependent on the locality.

Large game animals, such as bear, mountain lions, and bighorn sheep, were available in the state, though they were not hunted commonly. The Grizzly bear was more often a competitor and adversary than an object of exploitation. Along the Pacific Coast sea mammals could be hunted on nearby rocks; however, this activity was highly localized.

California's indigenous people did hunt deer, commonly and successfully. Heizer and Elsasser report that deer covered more than half of the state and may have numbered around 1.25 million. If so, Natives could have utilized only one tenth of the deer population annually and acquired a pound of venison per person per day, far in excess of actual need.

With the exception of a throwing stick, used for small game, the bow-and-arrow was the hunting weapon. But the bow-and-arrow was limited in range and accuracy so the hunter had to know an animal's behaviors very well and employ that knowledge to bring himself within acceptable range. One had to know when animals would be feeding and where they usually found food and water. One had to note wind directions and control sounds. Men often wore a deer's head mask in order to sneak through brush to a place among grazing deer and from which one or more could be easily shot. The hunting of deer was taken very seriously, and a man usually followed strict precautions beforehand --- abstaining from sexual relations, cleasing himself spiritually, and caring for equipment. It was not uncommon for a hunter to wait long hours next to an animal track leading to water. But individual deer could also be shot in larger groups, browsing low brushy plants.

Next in size were tule elk and antelope, mostly found east of the Sierras. Antelope, in particular, are so fast and easily stirred up that they had to be hunted cooperatively and usually by herding them into some kind of trap. Antelope, who were known to be curious, could also be attracted to investigate some object, like a banner, placed in their usual ranging territory. Most hunters knew a whole range of sounds or calls that would attract the animals they hunted.

Small mammals, such as wood rats, squirrels, and rabbits, were found throughout the state and were hunted regularly. Rabbit populations were often so large as to allow "rabbit drives" which were cooperative hunting expeditions in which large numbers of rabbits might be driven out of a large plain, directed into nets or enclosures, and killed with beating sticks. As we will see in a later chapter, rabbits were so abundant in some areas that the skins were cut into strips which were twisted into a thick yarn and, then, woven into blankets.

The meat from large game animals was butchered, usually into strips, and dried or smoked. Ocassionally, freshly butchered meat was roasted and eaten directly. Drying racks, with meat strips hung over long horizontal poles, was a common sight. Dried meat was usually eaten like jerky or ground into a meal that was added to mush; it was not usually re-hydrated. Rodents were frequently skinned, crushed, and stirred into cooking mush to provide a protein rich meal.

Bird populations were large in pre-Columbian California and can be divided into two groups --- range birds and waterfowl. Range birds occured throughout the state and the most common of all was the State Bird, the California Valley Quail, accompanied by several related species. Quail could be shot with a small-game arrow, using a sharpened hard-wood tip; they could be struck with a throwing stick, somewhat like a boomerang; they could be snared with a tripped noose, usually where a trail passed through an obstruction, like rocks or brush; and they could be trapped, using a wicker funnel-shaped basket, also positioned along a small trail. Quail were skinned, roasted, and eaten. Their feathers were commonly used decorations, especially prominent in some basketry styles (the Pomo in particular).

While the Pacific Flyway covers the entire length of the state, on both sides of the Sierras, waterfowl were commonly hunted only in areas where bays, lakes, marshes, and larger rivers provided birds safe landings and feeding spots. Again, while waterfowl could be shot with hard-wood arrows, this was not the primary means of hunting them. By far more common were techniques of netting the birds. Nets could be positioned in areas neighboring watering and feeding zones where birds were likely to fly out if startled. Once snared in the nets, the birds could be killed with beating sticks. Waterfowl were often attracted to land in hunting areas by floating decoys made of tules woven into appropriate forms. Again, waterfowl feathers were used in decorations, especially headdresses.

Natives also utilized a wide variety of insects, from larvae and worms to grasshoppers. Grasshoppers were especially plentiful in some regions and might be flushed from a field by burning it off, capturing them in a large hole prepared downwind, where they would instinctively take cover, only to become overwhelmed by the heat.

It should be noted that certain animals were virtually never hunted and were even "protected" by taboos. Snakes and lizards were among these; but most notable, perhaps, was the coyote. When asked, a Native would typically suggest that the coyote's meat was foul because of its diet of scavanged meat. However, when we consider the complex roles of coyote as a figure in creation myths and other Native narratives, it seems reasonable to believe that there were other extenuating circumstances. The bear, too, was approached with caution, as an object of hunting, since it was not commonly thought that a shaman might take the form of a bear.

Fish and Shellfish

Rarely were either fish or shellfish considered staple foods. The salmon was the single exception to this generalization and was clearly the staple food for almost all of the riverine people of Northern California. Also, people of the southern coast thrived on fish and shellfish in abundance. Almost all Californians outside of the southern deserts depended heavily on fish; Powers estimated that fish constituted as much as 28% of their diet.

Fish were taken from three different environments, the ocean, inland lakes, and rivers. Rivers can be divided further into those that flow into the ocean and those that merely flow into inland basins. The importance of the distinction is that salmon and stealhead were common in all rivers connected to the ocean; in other rivers there were only freshwater trout. By far the majority of California rivers flowed into the ocean, including almost all of the rivers of the Western Sierra, which connected with the ocean through the San Joaquin and Sacramento Rivers and San Francisco Bay. The Kings River and the Kern River, however, flowed into a basin lake system at the south end of San Joaquin Valley; and the creeks and rivers of the Eastern Sierra all flowed into inland lake basins. One of the exceptional river-lake systems was the Truckee River which flowed out of the eastern Sierra into Lake Tahoe and, then, out of Tahoe and down into Truckee Meadow, where it ultimately flowed northeast into Pyramid Lake in Western Nevada. This system was utilized by both the Washo and the Northern Paiutes; and since Tahoe was such a deep lake, there were actually seasonal runs of trout and land-locked salmon in the creeks and rivers flowing into it.

Fishing was accomplished by using a wide variety of hooks-and-lines, harpoons, nets, and traps. Wicker traps were especially useful in small creeks and were designed so that fish would swim upstream into a funnel-shaped opening into a larger basket from which it was very difficult to return downstream. Nets could be set out everywhere, in larger rivers, lakes, and in the ocean; but triangular-shaped dipping nets, with very long handles, were used in many locations where Natives could fish from a platform on a shoreline or along a river. In one variation, these long dipping nets were used to catch salmon on larger rivers; while in another variation, dipping nets with shorter handles and larger nets were used in the ocean surf to catch large amounts of small fish, such as grunion and smelt. Harpoons were built on long poles with two or three prongs made of sharpened hardwood or bone; they too were commonly used from platforms overlooking rivers or lakeshores. A harpoon might be rigged with a detachable shank attached to the harpoon shaft with a length of cording, allowing the snared fish more freedom of movement before being lifted out of the water. Coastal Natives manufactured hooks and even flashers, or lures, from shells (usually abalone), though bone hooks could be used as well.

In the northwestern riverine communities, salmon was a staple food and salmon fishing was a cooperative activity. The Hupa, for instance, annually built a salmon dam, or weir, across the Trinity River, allowing them to fish the river's full width. Since there were several heavy runs each year, every community was able to put away enough salmon to supply them for the whole year. Californians of this region, like their close cultural neighbors in the entire Northwest, learned to smoke fish by hanging them in the rafters of their wooden plank houses so that the fish meat kept for a long period of time without spoilage. At other times, freshly caught salmon were simply split open, fitted into a simple wooden frame, staked next to a hot fire, and roasted.

For others in the state, fishing was a hand-to-mouth activity; or fish were dried for use within a very limited time frame. Fish were eaten in a wide variety of ways --- barbequed at fireside, baked, fried on rock grills, smoked, dried as fish jerky, and ground/pulverized and (yes) added to mush.

In addition to fish, the ocean environment also offered a wide variety of shellfish and mollusks. Virtually all Natives who lived along the coast harvested shellfish and mollusks, as demonstrated by huge shell mounds that have been discovered at habitation sites. Analysis of these mounds shows not only that shellfish were eaten in great quantity but also that virtually every variety of shellfish was utilized.

Agriculture

Throughout this discussion, nothing whatsoever has been said about agriculture. The vast majority of California's indigenous people were sufficiently supplied by their natural environments so that resorting to special technologies --- beyond simply hunting, fishing, and gathering --- was entirely unnecessary. The single exception to this rule was the eastern desert region where the lack of natural foods, the fortuitous wealth of water provided by the Colorado River, and the cultural connections with Southwestern agriculturalists created a small group of California pre-Columbian farmers.

In spite of the fact that few Californians were forced into agriculture, there is clear evidence that most California Indians nurtured certain plants in ways that they understood to favor improved growth and productivity. Grasses could be burned off, after they had dried and seeds had been harvested, so that they would re-grow productively during the following year. A burning could be combined with a rabbit hunt or taking of grasshoppers. Burning brush in upland areas kept trees healthy, for acorn and pine nut harvests, but also provided fresh growth for deer browsing. Californians also pruned certain plants in order to improve the quality of growth. This activity was especially important for basketry resources but also applied to providing straight lengths of willow for arrow shafts. There is even strong evidence east of the Sierra, especially in Owens Valley, that the growth of desirable grasses was enhanced, annually, by irrigation. Creeks flowing down the eastern slopes of the Sierra were dammed and irrigation canals were constructed, fanning outward to cover the widest possible downstream growing areas. (Blackburn and Anderson, 1993)

Where agriculture did exist, along the Colorado in the eastern-most desert regions, local Indians followed Southwestern agricultural customs that had been in development for millenia. In fact, agriculture began in Central America and Mexico as early as 5500 BP. Maize (corn) evolved from a native grass, teosinte, which was hybridized into hundreds of species suitable to diverse microclimates. Around 4000 BP, along with many other changes taking place in the West, maize agriculture gradually moved northward along the Sierra Madre of the Mexican highlands and into the Mogollon Rim of the Southwest. However, the arrival of maize does not seem to have affected Southwestern material cultures greatly until around 2500 BP. At that time, along with the arrival of beans and squash, agriculture became the focus of cultural life, leading to the distinctiveness of Anasazi and Freemont cultures. Throughout the period 2500 - 1500 BP, agriculture expanded into the Southwest and the Great Basin, though the agriculturalists of the Colorado River, who learned to grow maize, squash, beans, peppers, etc., still did not build extensive villages like their cultural benefactors to the east. Agriculture, of course, required commitment to the land and the preparation and maintenance of irrigation canals. For California's desert people, it meant freedom from hunting and gathering in their bleak ecosystem.

This concludes our discussion of the quest for food. As one can see, California was a richly endowed environment and Natives utilized it thoroughly. In a very general way, if we merely added fish and deer meat to the basic seed and grain crops discussed, it is clear that California Natives enjoyed an exceptionally varied and healthful diet. Since food stands so high in importance in human survival, it seems inevitable that the quest for food should determine many social institutions and involve many ceremonial and ritual traditions. This was certainly the case in California, and it will figure heavily in later chapters and in our detailed discussions of several tribes.

 


 

Bibliography

Bean, Lowell John and Katherine Siva Saubel. Temalpakh: Cahuilla Indian Knowledge and Usage of Plants (Morongo Reservation, CA: Malki Museum Press, 1972)

Blackburn, Thomas C. and Kat Anderson. Before the Wilderness: Environmental Management by Native Californians (Menlo Park, CA: Ballena Press, 1993)

Heizer, Robert F. and Albert B. Elsasser. The Natural World of the California Indians (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1980)

Ortiz, Bev. It Will Live Forever: Traditional Yosemite Indian Acorn Preparation (Berkeley, CA: Heyday Books, 1991)

Pavlik, Bruce M., Pamela C. Muick, Sharon G. Johnson, and Marjorie Popper. Oaks of California (Los Olivos, CA: Cachuma Press, 1991)

Simpson, Richard. Ooti: A Maidu Legacy (Milbrae, CA: Celestial Arts, 1977)

Wheat, Margaret M. Survival Arts of the Primitive Paiutes (Reno, NV: University of Nevada Press, 1967)

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Chapter 5: Material Resources

Copyright 1998 by Tad Beckman, Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA 91711


A man, about 24 years of age, sits in the small rock wind-break at the top of a small rocky butte. Inspite of his cover, the wind whistles about him, throwing up volcanic dust. His eyes gaze to the northeast, across the river and up into the brush on the far side, scattered with chunks of rugged lava.

 

While he watches the passing scene, his hands deftly work a piece of shiny black obsidian. He has already performed the major work of striking the piece sharply with a large anvil to split off the larger waste, leaving a straight, thin flake with good potential. Now, he holds the flake in a small pocket, made by pinching a sheath of rough deer hide between thumb and fingers of his left hand, and deftly angles the edge of a small deer antler up the side, with his right hand. He holds the flake and antler together between his hands, with a firm grip, and levers off small curved fractures all the way along the side. The point is taking shape. It is a bird point so it will be about the size of the tip of his little finger. It will be well notched at the base so that he will be able to tie it fast to the shaft of willow he has prepared, using a small amount of moist sinew.

Something to the east catches his eye, and he turns his position slightly to concentrate on the space between his butte and the arid mountains forming the eastern side of his huge valley. There is a small flock of ducks flying in a "V" probably returning to the marshes north of him, after feeding in the numerous ponds down river. They are low, and it is difficult to follow their flight because of the background of rugged mountains. He wonders whether they will come down in the river, just beyond him, where it takes a broad winding turn. He looks back into the inside of the rock enclosure that protects him at the duck-like drawing etched on a volcanic rock and wonders if this will bring him the good fortune he needs.


We have seen in the previous chapter that California Indians utilized virtually all food sources available to them and that many of these sources were developed into staple food supplies that could provide for large numbers of people throughout extensive portions of the year. The purpose of this chapter is to look beyond food and to explore the ways that Native Californians utilized the animal, vegetable, and mineral resources of their ecological niches for a wide variety of other purposes. Very little, if anything, went untouched or unused. Indeed, we can begin to understand how extensive this discussion must be, in principle, if we consider the fact that every single thing associated in any way with a people's material culture is something that has either been appropriated from its natural setting and kept, or carried along, or been manufactured through some process beginning with material resources. Every article of clothing or ornamentation, every aspect of housing, and every tool used by a people came from the material resources of nature in some way.

In order to appropriate and transform natural materials, indigenous people had solved certain very basic problems. They had, for instance, developed a wide variety of stone implements, using obsidian, chert, flint, chalcedony, and other hard rock materials, so that they could penetrate, cut, and scrape. Obviously, these tools were essential to hunting and processing meat; however, they were also essential to manufacturing a bow from a selected branch of yew or juniper or fashioning a spear or harpoon for fishing. Seasoned animal bone fragments were employed as strong and sharp awls for drilling. Granite, sandstone, and shark skin were all used for basic sanding and polishing procedures. Asphaltum (available from the Santa Barbara coastline), pine pitch, and various concoctions of boiled fish heads and bladders were used as glues and caulking materials. Inedible animal sinew was extremely useful in the manufacture of bows and arrows, as we will see. Basic cordage could be made from a number of plants that yielded strong fibers and allowed the manufacture of fishing lines, nets, carrying bags, and hammocks as well as materials for tying and lashing in various construction projects. Mats, partitions, and canopy coverings could all be fashioned from readily available tules, cattails, fan palms, and other materials. And last but not least, granite and other local hard rocks provided milling sites or milling stones for processing nuts and seeds.

The larger aspects of material culture were, of course, housing, clothing, and transportation. Beyond these items, men and women required utensils and specialized tools with which to work. These included especially bows, arrows, harpoons, and nets, for men, and baskets, pottery, digging sticks, milling and cooking equipment, for women. Beyond utility, California Indians created a wide variety of musical instruments, ornaments and ritual regalia that added to the beauty of daily life or were employed in special occasions.

Housing

The pattern of housing in California reflected ecological differences more than many other aspects of material culture; this was true both because of the resources available and because of the weather conditions against which housing had to be constructed. Indians of the northwestern coast, for instance, shared a material culture with the rest of the Northwest, based on cedar and redwood trees and extending as far north as British Columbia and Southern Alaska. While much of the state was well forested, the straight grain of redwood and cedar was rarely available outside of the northwestern coastal region; thus, the manufacture of wooden boards was not practical in most of the state. Indians of the foothill regions, especially the well forested western slope of the Sierra, constructed large "teepees" out of rigid strips of bark from pines and firs. They also made pit houses that were at least partially subterranean and used posts made from trees, bark, branches, and an earth or clay overlay. These gave excellent warmth and protection in the foothills where a heavy snowfall was always possible. Use of pit houses extended into portions of the Central Valley, especially in the Sacramento Valley, where the subterranean design was as effective a shield against heat as it was against the cold. In much of the remainder of the state frame-and-brush houses were used, timber being considerably more scarce.

The plank houses of the northwestern coast were beautiful indeed; and they exercised a considerable impact on the cultural life of the people. They were made from large split cedar or redwood boards. Natives of the area were expert at reducing logs to boards, using wedges and hammers, and they had even discovered ways of removing boards from the side of a large cedar, allowing the tree to continue to live and produce new wood over time. The finished house might be 25 X 35 feet in area and might stand up to 8 feet in height.

The boards were fundamental to the basic structure of the house; unlike most house construction, even unlike the huge plank houses of the more distant northwestern coast, the Yurok and others of northwestern California did not begin with a skeletal framework of sturdy posts. A Yurok must have thought of a house essentially as an enclosing wall of upright boards. A narrow rectangular trench was dug and the boards were stood loosely inside; the technical problem remaining was simply how to secure them. This was achieved in a unique way by hanging a surrounding structure around them from the top. The structural integrity of the house was controlled by two huge wooden beams, supported by notched corner planks and running the full length of the side walls. These beams were often 4 X 30 inches, cross section, and could be up to 35 feet long.The two side beams were tied together across the ends of the house with long slender beams made out of a split log or narrower plank and lashed underneath the side beams, thus creating a rigid rectangular beam framework around the top of the board walls. Individual boards could then be hammered into a close fit and lashed tightly to the beam framework.

Roof beams were also supported in notches at the top of end wall boards. Usually there were two, allowing for three pitched-roof sections. Roof planks were laid between the beams and the massive side beams and overlapped, to prevent leaks. The end walls were shaped, and the two roof beams were placed, so that the central roof would have a shallow pitch to it and shed water effectively. Roof boards in this central roof could be moved apart in good weather to allow for lighting and to allow smoke to escape. In fact, racks were usually hung from the roof inside the house and this provided a convenient way to smoke fish.

Entrance to the plank house was through a round hole, approximately 30 inches, at ground level and usually near the corner of the house. There might be a porch made of smooth rocks outside this doorway; sometimes the porch extended the width of the house. In the center of the house interior was a subterranean living space, about 14 feet square and perhaps 4 feet deep. The sides of this cavity were lined with retaining boards and access was up-and-down a ladder made of a notched log. Basic furnishings here included a fire pit and, usually, some small log stools. A house was made comfortable by employing mats and furs. The ground-level space all the way around the exterior walls was used for storage, and this could be partitioned off by hanging mats. The doorway itself could be closed with a wooden plate or with a skin. (Stewart, 1984; and Nabokov and Easton, 1989)

These plank houses provided warmth and shelter from the heavy rains and cold of the northwestern coast. Both redwood and cedar are long-lasting so the houses not only lasted through one person's lifetime but were passed on through a family's lineage. Each house acquired a name and a history. Incidentally, one can still see some examples of these houses in the Hupa reservation and also at Patrick's Point State Park, in Yurok territory.

Pit houses in California were similar to those traditionally built in the Great Basin and the Southwest. Usually starting in the late spring, when the ground was still soft, an excavation was begun. The location would usually be some place near to flowing water but well above in order to avoid flooding or washout. The depth of the excavation was variable but might average about five feet, though deeper houses were by no means unknown. The pit could be ten to fifteen, or even twenty, feet in diameter and the shape could be circular or oval. Various lengths of timber were used to construct an interior framework. This would usually include at least one central pole (often considered sacred to some degree and called the "spirit pole") and several ceiling beams. Larger pits included many short timbers packed along the edge of the excavation and acting as a retaining wall. Smaller branches and sticks were eventually added to the superstructure to provide a reasonably solid base of support; and finally a layer of around four inches of soil was packed over the whole, perhaps superficially capped with a layer of clay. Bark could be laid over the earthen cap in order to retard erosion.

Most pit houses were entered through the ceiling smoke hole on a ladder (often simply a notched log that protruded through. Many pit houses included a shallow side vent. This was primarily for ventilation but it could be used for access. A pit house could be a single family dwelling or it could be fifty to sixty feet in diameter and provide space for a village's ceremonial activities. Dance houses, or round house, of great size were built and these included painted central poles and large drums made of hollowed-out logs or huge planks laid out over shallow holes.

Significant portions of the state did not provide an ample supply of timber, however, and indigenous people within these areas were forced to employ smaller trees and brush as their principal building material. This region included all of Southern California, much of the coastline, and the Central Valley, especially the San Joaquin Valley. Brush houses were made from a framework of branches that were cut from small trees, fitted into the ground in a circle or oval, bent over to form an overlapping dome, and lashed together, making a sturdy framework. This structure could be covered with a wide variety of reeds or leaves available in the immediate locale, including tules near inland marshes or creeks and fan-palm leaves in the desert. The ground could be excavated a small amount or simply scraped clean and smooth; usually, the framework was given additional stability by piling rocks all the way around its perimeter. Provision was always made for a fire circle, inside, and a smoke hole above. Various kinds of doors were hung from the framework to provide further shelter and insulation. While these houses provided a good shelter in the beginning, they were far more perishable than other houses and could even be consumed by fire. The outer brush work was usually renewed annually.

In some regions, a more substantial framework was made by providing a central longitudinal beam to which the side-saplings could be arched and lashed, making a long oval. Forty-foot oval houses with five resident families were reported among the Eastern Pomo, for instance. In desert Southern California, some people built frame houses that were rectangular and had flat roofs and, often, one open side. Basic ramadas could be constructed on the same principle, with merely the roof, and provided shade for work areas or summertime habitation. In a few areas, huge ramadas were fashioned over a collection of brush-dome houses lined up in a row. An interesting variation was to weave tules or other materials into mats, first, and then secure the mats to the sapling framework. In the case of the Yokuts, this lead to construction of frameworks that were flat-sided rather than round, yielding pyramid-shaped houses. In all cases, the principle of construction was the same --- a framework of saplings and branches, lashed together and covered with interwoven reeds or leaves.

Beyond individual housing, at least three other structures were commonly constructed by most California Indians. Foremost was the sweatlodge. This was essentially a house in which the dry heat of a fire could be intensified and in which people might sit, cleansing themselves, prior to rushing outside for a plunge into a fresh-water source. While the predominant culture of the sweatlodge was male, there were tribes in which both male and female took part (separately). Also, the sweatlodge was usually a place for social gathering of men --- to smoke, discuss hunting/fishing, and engage in crafts as well as to seek spiritual purification. The lodge itself was usually made in the same fashion as local housing, but it was both smaller and lower. Extra provisions had to be taken to keep heat inside.

The second most common non-housing construction was the granary. The basic unit was a large wicker-like cylinder made from numerous branches that were intertwined in concentric circles. This might be fashioned around long supporting poles or on top of a solid platform. The granary was often lined with herbal materials that repelled insects and it was always provided with a cap that would deflect rain. Sturdy construction and placement, on poles or platformed on a roof, made access to rodents or larger animals difficult. Such granaries were commonly used for storing acorns and mesquite beans. Seeds and pine nuts were stored in baskets or, in the south, in pottery jars.

Finally, most villages included some structure designed for larger social gatherings or ritual celebrations. In the Central Valley and Southern California, this was often merely a large ramada or ceremonial area enclosed by a brush wall, as a wind screen. In other parts of the state, a much larger building of local design would be constructed; perhaps the chief, or other principal, would occupy this building. The most spectacular examples of this custom were the great Round Houses of the northern foothill region, a few of which remain today.

Having built their houses, California Indians were little inclined toward building furniture. Those of the northwestern coast built small stools; and the Chumash constructed raised bedframes. But the commonest treatment of household interiors was simply to provide mats to cover the ground, mats or skins to line the inner walls or partition space, and skins or furs to provide comfortable sitting or sleeping.

Clothing and Costuming

California, then as now, was a clothing-optional state. Men frequently went nude or wore a minimal loin cloth. Women went fully nude much less commonly and usually wore a more substantial "apron" or "skirt," which was more nearly a loin-cloth flap than what we would call a skirt. In the winter months, Indians who faced a harsh winter climate wore cloaks, pants, and shoes. They fashioned these mainly from skins and furs. Basketry caps were common throughout the state, especially for women; while they provided shade from the sun, they also served the specific function of protecting the forehead when carrying a burden basket equipped with a head strap.

In both the Great Basin and parts of eastern California rabbit skins were used to make a very ample blanket or cloak. The skins were cured and dried, first, and then were cut into long strips, usually by cutting into concentric circles the way one would remove an apple peel. The long strips were twisted and then woven together on a primitive "loom" until a suitably sized blanket was produced. These were traded westward into the remainder of the state in exchange, especially, for shells and acorns.

A variety of ornaments were worn and these most commonly included earrings, nose-rings, and necklaces. These were made from pieces of shell, wood, or bone; they were decorated with carvings, etch marks, pigments, and feathers. Women wore tatoos on their chins, usually a series of roughly parallel vertical lines of diverse breadth and color, acting as codes to tribes, moieties, lineage, etc.

Ceremonial clothing was often quite elaborate but was usually owned by small numbers of individuals and differed widely in character throughout the State. These included primarily headdresses but also included shawls, belts, and skirts. Feathers were the chief component of these items; and California Natives wove a multitude of diversely shaped and colored feathers into headdresses that have the appearance and beauty of floral displays. In the northwestern coastal region, daily clothing came closer to the ceremonial clothing being described, especially among well to do women, though the variety of feathers was replaced by a stunning variety of sea shells. Women of the southern coast usually wore a more substantial skirt of grasses.

Utilities: Hunting and Fishing

Let us turn now to some of the implements that Californians made in order to provide for themselves. Hunting and fishing implements were crafted out of wood, cordage, stone, bone, and shell materials. Perhaps nothing was more important than the bow and arrow. California Indians made two kinds of bow and these varied in length from one and one half feet to almost four feet, the extremely short ones being primarily for hunting in restricted areas such as caves and brushy terrain.

The simple bow, also called the self-bow or the self-backed bow, was made from a single piece of wood carved from the inner core of a branch using a sharp obsidian blade, scrapers, and "sanding tools" such as rough stone surfaces. A stronger bow was made by starting in the same way and then adding layers of pulverized sinew (usually from a deer's leg) to the back. The sinew was chewed, mixed with a "glue" (often made from boiled salmon heads and skin), and applied. Great care was taken to provide a smooth, uniform, and uncracked layer. Sinew-backed bows were usually strung with sinew (usually the sinew from a deer's backbone); while self-bows were strung with either sinew or cordage. A buckskin wrap at the hand grip was not uncommon and a fir wrap on the sinew string to prevent "twanging" was also not uncommon. Some sinew-backed bows were made in the "re-curved," or "reflexed," style so that the ends of the un-strung bow curved forward. These were especially common among the Sierra Miwok and the Costanoan, living near Monterrey Bay. The Sierra Miwok also seem to have invented a unique sinew wrap around the bow's ends which allowed stringing to the sinew wrap rather than to more traditional notches in the bow's ends. The sinew hooks were evidently of great strength.

While bows had to be made from whatever woods were available, yew was preferred and would be imported by trade where possible. Next to yew, juniper was probably the most widely used, though incense cedar was also commonly used. Hazel, laurel, dogwood, mahagony, and oak are also mentioned as workable materials. Yew was common in Northern California but uncommon south of Monterrey. Incense cedar prevailed along the Sierra foothills. Juniper was best in the South and east of the Sierra. Sinew backing predominated in Northern California and is mentioned across the state. The self-backed bow was much less known in the north and was more common in the South. Bows were usually decorated with pigments.

Arrows were made from various straight lengths of reed, cane, rosewood, serviceberry, elder, buckeye, wild currant, or willow. They were straightened further by treatment with heated grooved rocks (often steatite) or wooden presses. Arrows were either simple or compound. A compound arrow consisted of a projectile shaft of light reed into which a shorter hardwood fore-shaft (perhaps made of greesewood) was inserted. Both simple and compound arrows could use either a fire-hardened wood point or a stone point. Hardened wood was used for small game (rodents or fish) and stone was used for larger game (birds and mammals) and warfare. The tail of an arrow was virtually always feathered with three three-inch lengths of split hawk feathers, sinew-bound to the shaft in front and in back. Sinew was usually wrapped around the shaft at the point of compounding with a fore-shaft whether or not a fore-shaft was actually used. Sinew was also used to bind the stone point and held it hard enough that the point itself would break before the sinew binding. Arrows were decorated with rings of pigment, which served well for identification. Virtually all California Indians held the bow in a horizontal or diagonal plane in order to shoot their arrows with maximum accuracy; this contrasts with the vertical plane position seen commonly today and used traditionally by Europeans.

Stone arrow points were primarily made from obsidian but were also made from flint, chert, jaspar, and even quartz. Indians stored large chunks of obsidian and hammered off large "blanks" when needed. These blanks were struck with a stone mallet successively until the rough form of an arrow-point was obtained by eliminating large obsidian flakes. As manufacture proceeded, progressively smaller flakes were removed from the point, all the way around, by "pressure flaking," removing very small conchoidal fractures along the edge until arriving at a satisfactory sharp serrated point. In order to do this fine work, the potential point was held firmly in a deer skin sheath and pressured with a hardened deer antler or bone tool.

The same basic technique was used to fashion points of all sizes, including larger spear tips and knife blades. Blanks that went bad in this process often made good scrapers, having at least one good side of sharp fractures. Knife blades and scrapers were essential to cleaning killed game and fish and processing mammal hides. Since proficiency in blade production was expected of men, some men manufactured "ceremonial blades" that demonstrated their ability to do fine work with obsidian. These were very large obsidian blades (often more than a foot in length), finely shaped, and useful only for ceremonial occasions. Hunting tools beyond the bow, arrow, knife, and scraper included wooden throwing sticks (similar to boomerangs), various traps and snares, decoys and costumes. While usually made from a bent length of wood and occasionally flatish, the throwing stick did not return, or cycle, like a boomerang. Cordage snares were left along small-animal trails and "loaded" by bending a short branch over so that it would be triggered by the animal's passage. Waterfowl decoys were made out of tules or wood. And they created deer-head masks to wear when sneaking through brush to gain a better vantage point for killing deer.

Hunting weapons were rarely capable of long-range accuracy; thus, stalking and lying in wait, at well picked locations, were necessary to hunting success. While birds were occasionally shot with arrows, using fine bird tips, they were usually taken in traps or nets. Waterfowl, for instance, could be decoyed into a narrow stretch of marsh in which a net had been hidden under water; this net could be sprung upwards as the waterfowl were scared into flight from the opposite side.

In all cases, Indians possessed extremely detailed knowledge of bird and animal habits and used this knowledge to their advantage in stalking game. They could lie in wait along paths that animals habitually used to access water or feed. They could lure animals or birds with natural sounding calls. Equipped with deer-head masks, they could actually walk into a group of brousing deer. Antelope could often be decoyed with brightly colored, flagged poles so that they could be shot when they came close.

Indians also engaged in cooperative hunts. Beginning in a wide ring, the worked their way inward, herding ground birds, like quail, and small mammals, like rabbits, into brushy areas where nets had been hung across apparent avenues of escape. Women and children often tended the nets in order to dispatch the trapped game.

Three different varieties of fishing were pursued throughout the state as determined by the bodies of water available --- the riverways, the lakes and bays, and the ocean. Each of these determined a different fishing technology, and even these could be broken down into smaller divisions. River fishing, for instance, varied depending on the size of the drainage. In creeks, Indians used wicker-basketry fish traps made from small branches of willow that were immersed and held in place in a narrow passage. The basket had a funnel entry through which the fish passed, while moving upstream, and a large chamber in which the trapped fish could remain until collected. Egress downstream through the narrow funnel entry was difficult, if not impossible.

In larger rivers, a fish dam, or weir, could be used. The construction of the dam across the Trinity River was an annual event among the Hupa and provided almost their entire staple requirement for the year. The fish dam was constructed from sturdy logs and poles that were cut into the river bottom all the way across and, then, interwoven with smaller poles and branches to provide a substantial barrier or waterfall. People could walk across the top of the damn and assume stations on it. Thus, the entire river could be fished either with spears, harpoons, or hand-held nets.

Cordage nets were manufactured and used along lake shores, in rivers, and in the ocean. Virtually all were gill nets, intended to trap the fish attempting to swim through by catching the gills when the fish attempted to back out. A special net was used along the northwestern coast and in the rivers of northern California. This net was fastened to a triangular frame and was dipped into the surf. As the surf receded, the frame was lifted up and the small fish were accumulated in the long sock-like extension of the net. In this way, the net could be dipped repetitively until the weight of fish was too great. One can see this same net being used by modern fishermen along the northwest coast even today. A similar net was used to scoop salmon or steelhead out of rivers.

Fish spears were used in lakes and in rivers. There were two basic designs of spears. In one case, a long pole was equipped with two or three sharpened spear points which were separated by a wedge and tied tight. This was used to spear a fish and land it directly. In the other case, more like a harpoon, the pole was fitted with a fore-shaft to which a cordage line was attached. the spear was jabbed into the fish; the fish's motion dislodged the foreshaft; and the fish was retrieved by pulling in the cordage.

Fishing lines were used in lakes and in the ocean, primarily. Fish hooks were fashioned from bone and (primarily) shells. The Chumash made beautiful fish hooks from abilone shells, complete with drilled holes for the fish line; they also made abalone-shell flashers to go on the same lines and to attract the fish's attention.

Digging and harvesting tools were made with simplicity and with function in mind. Digging sticks were made from hardwoods and were sharpened. The Chumash manufactured quite elegant steatite rings, doughnut shaped, which were added to the sticks to weight them and give the individual more power in cutting through rough ground. Acorns might be knocked down by tapping branches with long sticks, but the pine nut harvesting stick was considerably more sophisticated in design, being notched at the end, with a short hook, so that cones could be pulled loose from a distance of several feet.

Utilities: Household

Utensils included bowls, dippers, and spoons. While most bowls were basketry, some bowls made of shells (abalone), gourd, wood, and stone (steatite) are known. Dippers were made of gourd or wood. Spoons were made from shells (mussell) and from wood. Indians of the northwest coastal region carved particularly elegant spoons.

Cordage has been mentioned several times in connection with stringing bows and making nets or carrying sacks; cordage was also used in making women's clothing, sandals, and snowshoes. Cordage was necessary as a construction material in building the frames of brush houses or ramadas or granaries. The Chumash also used cordage to lash together the redwood planks of their canoes, or tomols, prior to application of asphaltum caulking. Cordage had to be manufactured from plant materials and resources varied throughout the state.

Making cordage required harvesting the stems or stalks of some plants that possessed strong fiberous material. These were usually beaten until the fibers could easily be separated. Finally, the cordage itself was formed by rolling the fibers back-and-forth across the worker's thigh. Most Indians used two fibers, twisted together in this way. Californians may have used a primitive version of a spinning wheel, stone spindle whorls, which could be rotated easily while the fibers were twisted as they were taken up by the spindle. In the southern deserts, the agave was commonly used for making cordage; agave was highly valued since it was also a highly nutritious food plant. In other parts of the state, a plant called dogbane (nicknamed "Indian Hemp" by Anglo-Europeans) was preferred. Wild iris was commonly used along the north coast and milkweed was used in the non-desert south. The mojave yucca was also used in the desert areas, and nettles were used in central and northern parts. (Heizer/Elsasser, 1980; 137-9)

Just as every competent man was expected to know how to fashion correctly sized sharp arrow points and to pursue game with skill, every woman was expected to know how to weave a wide variety of baskets for domestic use and to gather plant materials for food, medicine, and craft use. Since most California Indians did not make pottery, the basket was practically the universal household appliance. There were numerous functions for baskets, from cooking and eating to gathering and child care, each requiring a specific form of design and specific materials. For these designs there were essentially three modes of basket construction --- wicker, twining, and coiling.

Wicker baskets were made from small flexible branches of brush materials, like willow, and were suitable for rough tasks where strength was important. Wicker work is a simple over-and-under weave with the width of spacing determined by the object's function. Indians made wicker traps for fish and birds. They commonly used wicker trays of different fineness for winnowing nuts, grains, and seeds. Conical wicker baskets were carried on their backs as burden baskets, using slung with a padded band that went across the forehead. And baby frames were most commonly made from wicker work, though styles differed widely from one area to another. Most granaries were based on a wicker cylinder, though the rest varied considerably according to geographical area and purpose.

The most spectacular basketry of California was twined or coiled and was made with such incredible precision and finish that baskets could hold water and, indeed, could be used for cooking. Materials used for these baskets were small stems of brush, such as hazel and willow, strips of bark from brush, ferns, and grasses, and roots from both ferns and trees. These baskets were made in specific shapes and sizes for use as hats, eating bowls, cooking pots, storage jars, water jugs, burden carriers, and trays. The basket maker always used different materials, or dyed materials, to form a design of some kind in the finished product. The design might be an abstract symbol, similar to features left in rock art, or a relatively realistic picture of an animal. Other materials, such as feathers or shells, might be added for further decoration. Just as the creation of ceremonial blades tested an individual's expertise, basket makers of the northwest (especially the Pomo) made "presentation baskets" and "memorial trays" that were small and highly decorated examples of basketry skill. In the late Nineteenth Century, with the encouragement of several serious collector/merchants, Indian women found a good source of income in making baskets for sale; however, basketry design, in both shapes and ornamentation, moved quickly to reflect the influence of Anglo tastes. Even in the very early historic period, missionized Indians produced baskets that incorporated Christian symbols and emblems of the Spanish monarchy.

Coiling and twining work in opposite directions and produce baskets that are easily identified on sight. Using traditional weaving terms --- the warp and the weft --- we can say that the two differ because the warp passes in opposite directions. The warp is the strong foundation of the weaving; the weft is "sewn" in-and-out and between the warps. In the twining technique the warp is arranged to ascend the sides of the bowl vertically; in the coiling technique the warp wraps around the bowl horizontally. Since one mainly sees the sewn wefts, another way to view the difference is that the stitches run horizontally in a twined basket and vertically in a coiled basket.

Starting a twined basket is substantially more difficult than starting a coiled basket, which simply grows out of one warp by coiling around itself in concentric spirals. To start a twined basket, the artist begins by holding two sticks of warp together facing opposite directions and overlapping 2-3 inches. Two more sticks can be added parallel and opposed; then, sewing begins, fastening these sticks together by sewing strands of weft in-and-out between the sticks and in the middle of the overlapping area. When a suitable number of warp sticks have been sewn together going in one direction, the artist begins to add warp sticks to the overlapping area at right angles. And when a suitable foundation has been established in the four directions, more warp sticks can be added at the corners, facing outward at forty-five degree angles. The end result of this process is a twining "start" which looks like a mass of sticks protruding in all directions and radiating out of a circular pattern of sewn wefts, about the size of a silver dollar. The warp is commonly made from hazel sticks, and the primary weft is usually conifer root. All materials are soaked in warm water prior to working. The outer circumference of the "start" will usually have a few rows of design sewn in and this is achieved in several ways, to be described.

As work on a basket proceeds, its shape is determined by how rapidly the warp sticks are brought upward by pulling them in close or how slowly, by adding more warps in open spaces. With the same "start" an artist could make a cap or mush bowl, only six inches in diameter, or a burden basket, twenty inches in diameter. The fineness of the weave will depend on materials and the care with which the artist keeps the woven structure packed close. Indian women were quite able, using twining, to make bowls or jugs that could hold water.

As weaving proceeded, the artist formulated a design pattern for the overall basket. Depending upon the techniques used to create the design, it might be visible inside and outside or merely on the outside surface. Designs were entirely the product of the weave; if the color of a weft strand was changed by dyeing, this was accomplished prior to use. The artist had to possess an excellent sense of how the weaving around a specific number of warps was to be divided between different materials, or overlays, and how this division should be changed for each row sewn so that the desired design would be established in the basket's surface.

The actual sewing of weft strands can take several forms that will contribute to the ornamental design as well as to the strength and fineness of the basket surface. The simple twining technique is achieved with two strands of weft. One starts from behind and one from in front of a given warp; then, the front weft wraps behind the next warp and the behind weft wraps in front of the next warp. As sewing proceeds, the weft strands are pushed down tightly against each other. A design can be achieved in simple twining by either substituting a colored weft strand for one of the two or overlaying a colored strip on one weft strand. In the former, the color will alternate inside-and-outside; however, with a simple overlay, the color will only show outside unless the overlayed strands are twisted when they pass behind the warp.

Three-strand twining always works with two weft strands in front and one behind. The outer-most strand and the inside strand wrap the very next warp, while the second strand in the front moves straight across the next warp to become the outer-most strand. In this way, one of the two wefts in front is always binding across a pair of warps while one is always wrapping a single warp tightly. The appearance of the sewn weft is a more strongly diagonal and narrower stitch. Three-stranded twining is usually used in making the "start" of a basket and provides a different opportunity for design by substituting or overlaying colored strands.

Lattice twining is a variation of three-strand twining in which one strand simply travels along always inside the warps and is bound to the warps by being included in the simple twined wraps of the other two strands. The technique provides extra strength where needed. Yet another style of twining is called twilling. This is a simple twining stitch, using two strands, but the stitch always passes over, or wraps, two warps. As the stitch ascends to the next row, the doubling interlocks in the same way as a bricklayer places bricks in a wall.

The coiling technique, as mentioned above, works with horizontal warps which simply coil upward in a concentric spiral. The structure is secured by sewing each new round of coil to the last by using weft strands. Unlike weft strands in a twined basket, where they proceed around the basket and involve all the warps, the weft strands of a coiled basket simply pass back-and-forth continually binding two warp coils together. Since the angle of attachment of the second coil to the first is entirely arbitrary, this is how the basket is shaped. The most typical coiled basket is a perfect bowl shape that ascends outward from the base, curves gracefully through the side, and finishes in a rim that turns slightly inward.

The warps of a coiled basket are either individual sticks, three sticks, or a small bunch of grass. The easiest technique to imagine is coiling of a single stick with weft strands that sew non-interlockingly. In this technique the weft strand is brought under the warp coil beneath and up above the new warp coil on top. In the next round, the weft goes down beneath the lower warp in between stitches and then up across the top. Thus, the stitches all pass over warps independently of each other. When the sewing is done interlockingly, the weft moves down to the lower warp coil and moves through the stitch already around that coil before passing upward. Here, the stitches all interlock with each other in binding the warps.

When coiling is done with three warp sticks, the principle of interlocking and non-interlocking stitching remains, but the stitching does not go all the way around the lower warp coil. The weft moves over the new warp bundle, above, and passes through the warp bundle below, wrapping around only the top stick of the three. Since the weft strand does not pass vertically across the full outside of the warp bundles but is secured to the top of the lower bundle, the effect of this technique is to give a more pronounced coiled pattern to the basket's side walls. There is little difference in handling a warp of grass bundled except that it leads to a much larger and softer coil.
In coiling a basket, it is necessary to separate the warps with an awl to provide room for the weft to pass through. Bone awls were used traditionally; and the archaeological threshhold of bone awls gives us some clues about the origins of basketry in pre-historic times. Since there is no necessary archaeological residue of twining, there is no way to judge the relative beginings of twining and coiling. What does seem reasonably clear is that basketry preceded pottery throughout North America.

While hazel, willow, and conifer root constituted the basic basketweaving materials, a wide variety of other materials were collected to add color, either by substitution or overlaying. Colors could be woven into the basket as simple rings of solid or alternating stitches; however, the artist usually divided the basket space into complex color designs. Covering these many designs is really well outside the scope of the present work; furthermore, there is no universal picture. Each group of basketmakers utilized traditional sets of design patterns and made only small inventions for variation or embellishment. Some abstract patterns can be seen in rock art as well; other patterns are more contemporary and realistic. While most basket designs are symmetrical and calculated to be balanced around the basket, unsymmetrical realistic designs in the shape of animals or other objects are not entirely unknown. For instance, some very fine Cahuilla baskets use rattlesnakes or eagles as the basic design center.

Grinding equipment was essential since virtually all grains and nuts required grinding at some point in the process of food preparation. While the stone mano-and-metate combination had a long history of use in the Southwest, its flat (metate) surface was most useful for cracking and grinding a softer grain like corn. The metate, when found in California, was most common in the Great Basin regions and the South. Californians needed to process acorns which were very hard and needed to be pounded until pulverized. For this purpose, a stone mortar-and-pestle was much more useful. In the foothill areas where granite outcroppings were common, mortars were often made in bedrock near a habitation site; these can be seen even today. In other areas, a large slab of granite or other stone was taken to camp and ground until it yielded a good depression. Control of scattering fragments could be enhanced by sealing a basketry hopper around the depression. Generally, women pounded dried acorn meats in this depression until small enough to grind into a smooth powder. Grinding was a constant part of daily activity so repeated use of mortars, even in bedrock locations, left large depressions in solid rock --- ocassionally more than six inches wide and up to a foot in depth.

In Southern California wooden stumps were used as a mortar with either wooden or stone pestles. The wooden mortar was especially useful for processing mesquite beans, a staple in the South, and was used, in the early summer, to create an aqueous bean mash that was refreshing and may even have fermented somewhat.

Storage equipment was essential to virtually all California economies since all had progressed beyond the seasonal rounds of archaic people and relied on staple foods that had to be harvested, processed, and stored for most of the year. Large wicker granaries were used to store acorns and mesquite beans, as described earlier. Pine nuts and seeds, as well as various vegetable materials, were stored in baskets. Dried or smoked fish or meats were generally hung in a cache out of reach of animals. In the desert areas of the South, quantities of foodstuffs and water were often hidden in caves in large pottery storage jugs. Water could be stored in baskets for short periods of time and baskets treated internally with asphaltum could store water indefinitely.

It is theorized that pottery developed after basketry throughout North America. A transition stage may have been clay lined basketry trays that were used for parching seeds and nuts. The Indians may have noticed the hardening effect on clay after many heatings with the parching coals. At any rate, even in the Southwest, well known for their maginificent clay pottery, the earliest cultures were definitely solely basketmakers. (James, 19__; ---) Pottery making did not spread into the bulk of California; it was found in the Southern California deserts only, where there were strong influences from the Great Basin and Southwest. Even in Southern California, pottery making had reached only a very simple level with little effort given to design or ornamentation. Pottery jugs for storage of water and foods are undoubtedly the objects of greatest importance to these people.

Steatite (soapstone) was quarried by the Gabrielino on Catalina Island and was traded outward into the state. Steatite objects can be found throughout, demonstrating the extent of trade. Large pieces of steatite, available in the South, were carved into jugs, bowls, and platters all of which were cabale of direct heating in the fire. Thus, steatite, like pottery, was the one option to the traditional cooking basket. Steatite was also carved into smaller useful objects such as the doughnut-shaped digging weights and ring-shaped weights for fishing nets. It could be fashioned into narrow conical shaped tubes which could be drilled to make a pipe. Some steatite pipes were carved into quite exotic shapes, such as a Chumash pipe in the form of a great fish. Last, but clearly far from least, steatite was carved into fetishes of a wide variety, especially sea creatures like orcas and pelicans.

Asphaltum and other minerals were recognized as valuable for specific uses and sites of occurence were noted. Indians might travel great distances, on occasion, to secure a supply of something like this; or they might trade for it. Asphaltum, for instance, is a natural eruption of oil, or tar, and occurs commonly along the coastline in Chumash territory. It was an excellent bonding and sealing material. Salt was important in the Indian diet as well as for certain food preparations, and it was not uniformly availabe throughout the state. Also, various minerals were considered valuable as pigments.

While many plants were gathered for food, cordage, and basketry, many others were gathered for preparation of dyes and medicines. Very few plants in the native's environment escaped being valued for something, and most plants had multiple medicinal values.

It should be clear, in this discussion, that Native Californians had an extremely elaborate material culture and that it depended upon utilization of the majority of animal, vegetable, and mineral species found in their environments. Continuation of this culture required the safe passage of detailed knowledge from the old to the young, and this occured within the social framework or family or village in the context of normal daily activities. But the treatment of growing children, especially by the time of their initiation into adult society, always made it clear that acquisition of knowledge and development of specific skills was essential to successful and happy membership in the community. A young woman had to acquire skills at basketmaking, gathering, cooking, and child rearing; a young man had to become a skillful hunter or fisher and needed to make many of the tools necessary for these activities.



Trade and Economic Relations

We shall conclude this introductory discussion by considering tribal economies and, in particular, how they related to each other through trade. While it is correct to view California as a very diverse collection of cultures well fitted to highly specific ecological niches, it would be quite wrong to convey the impression that these tribes and tribelets were completely isolated from each other and entirely independent of each others resources. California economies all involved trade with other groups and trade relations were often far-reaching if not extensive and well organized.

The evidence for trade comes from three sources --- archaeological collections of physical materials hundreds of miles from their sources, ethnographic reports of trading customs and tradable items, and records of individual knowledge of trade routes well beyond tribal boundaries. A list of ethnographically recorded trade items includes salt, acorns, pine nuts, fish, vegetables, mollusk meats, marine shell beads, dentalium shells, clamshell disk beads, baskets, hides and pelts, pigments, obsidian, bows, and many other materials. (Davis, 1961) Two of the most striking examples are the widespread presence of clamshell disk beads that were used as money throughout the state and the equally widespread distribution of obsidian points. The natural sources of clamshells and obsidian are, of course, limited to specific regions. Another dramatic example is that fact that Indians of the northwestern coast regularly used dentalium shells as their medium of exchange, while the source of dentalium was Vancouver Island, now British Columbia.

While this physical evidence can be sorted out into trade items and trade routes, however, there is no ethnographic evidence for trade being well organized or for regular trading markets. (Heizer, HNAI, 8; 690) But if there were no well established trading routes or marketplaces, how did resources come to be so thoroughly distributed throughout the state? The answer undoubtedly lies in the complex ways in which all California tribes practiced systems of distribution and re-distribution of resources and craft items within villages, tribelets, and tribes as a normal aspect of their economic organization. This re-distribution was so important to survival that, as we will see, it was built into social organization and ritual customs.

What we can accurately call "trade" was re-distribution between tribes and beyond cultural custom. It is clear that trade occured in this legitimate sense; but the general lack of organization involved in trade may indicate that trade was a natural extension of the customary activity of intra-tribal re-distributions, happening especially at village locations near to tribal boundaries. In this "disorganized" way, each tribe carried on trade relations with its neighbors and utilized its own abundant resources to gain materials that it valued aesthetically or required for its own economy. Since tribal boundaries tended to be coincident with ecological boundaries, the difference in physical situations of tribes probably encouraged trade for certain items not available in their own ecological niches. Items coming into a tribe across such a boundary would be re-distributed naturally, that is, by habitual customs, throughout their own region; thus, through trade and re-distribution of items, materials could move far away from their original sources.

Quality handcrafted items gained considerable reputations and were desired, in trade, elsewhere. Maidu bows, for instance, were known for their fine workmanship. The Tongva quarried raw steatite which could be carved easily to make pipes, fetishes, bowls, weights, etc. Several groups of coastal Indians developed the technology of drilling and grinding clamshells into money beads of uniform size. Obsidian, salt, and various mineral pigments were widely valued. In recognition of this and in spite of the lack of any established trading organization, it seems clear that some people in pre-historic California devoted much time to carrying on trade. In areas where contact was restricted by topographic features, mountains and deserts, something more like trade routes developed just because people were forced to travel back-and-forth through the same regions. An example of this is a very clear route of communication and trade between the Yosemite Miwok and the Mono Paiute, passing over Mono Pass and through Tuolumne Meadows. Many of these Indian routes became military trails, wagon routes, and, finally, modern highways.


 

Bibliography

Bates, Craig. The Reflexed Sinew-Backed Bow of the Sierra Miwok (San Diego, CA: San Diego Museum of Man, 1978)


Bates, Craig D. and Martha J. Lee. Tradition and Innovation: A Basket History of the Indians of the Yosemite-Mono Lake Area (Yosemite National Park, CA: Yosemite Association, 1990)

Elsasser, Albert B. "Basketry." in HNAI, 8

Heizer, Robert F. and Albert B. Elsasser. The Natural World of the California Indians (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1980)

James, George Wharton. Indian Basketry (New York: Dover Publications, 1972)

Moser, Christopher L. Native American Basketry of Central California (Riverside, CA: Riverside Museum Press, 1986)

Nabokov, Peter and Robert Easton. Native American Architecture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989)

Newman, Sandra Corrie. Indian Basket Weaving: How to Weave Pomo, Yurok, Pima, and Navajo Baskets (Flagstaff, AZ: Northland Publishing, 1974)

Stewart, Hilary. Cedar: Tree of Life to the Northwest Coast Indians (Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press, 1984)

Sturtevant, William C. (ed.) HNAI, 8

Davis, James T. "Trade Routes and Economic Exchange among the Indians of California." in University of California Archaeological Survey Reports, 54 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1961)

Heizer, Robert F. "Trade and Trails." in HNAI, 8 (1978)

 
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Chapter 6: Society and Authority

Copyright 1998 by Tad Beckman, Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA 91711


She is a Yimel --- literally one-who-catches-fish-by-hand --- and he, a Waitatshulul. Her home is on the northeastern shoreline of Tulare Lake; she is a daughter of the tribelet Chunut; he belongs to the tribelet Telamni.

He first took note of her in days --- really years --- long ago when he and his family would make occasional trips down the running channels of the Kaweah River to the delta-like eastern shore of the great lake. He and his father would float a load of equipment downriver on a raft and, when they put up camp along the shoreline, they would spend their days fishing and hunting waterfowl. In the right season, they would build new canoes made out of long tules. And when they paddled along the shoreline, looking for good spots, they would occasionally pass the village of Yimel and, sometimes, he would catch glimpses of children playing in the shallow water or helping their parents with household chores.

Later on, he had inquired of village boys about her and learned that her father was of the moiety connected with the totemic animal antelope. He had been delighted to hear this since his father was a coyote, from a different moiety group. While Chunuts did not require marriages outside of the moiety group, it was the normal accepted course.

He had never seen this girl at any of his own family feasts that brought together many branches of his own extended family. And he had tried hard to question older members of his family to assure himself that there was no chance that she was a remote part of his lineage. Perhaps, in fact, he had been too questioning, for some of his aunts had taken note of his interest in this girl from Waitatshulul.

When they had both grown older, they had met, once, at a social gathering on the lake. He had teased her and she had blushed and run away. Some other girls had teased her for her "interest" in him. He knew that she might be his but he wondered if there were other boys in competition with him.

In the end, it would be their families who would decide. He would arrange to have one of his favorite uncles take a trip to Waitatshulul and, there, he would coincidentally renew some acquaintance with her family. He would probably talk about his brother's son, now almost fully grown and an excellent hunter, who had caught more fish last spring than his own father. He would probably talk about the Big Time, next autumn, and how he was sure that his nephew would be there and would win in some of the competitions. And he would promise some gifts of deer meat and acorns from the Black Oaks near his own village.

Her parents would not take this chatter naively and would know that they should look into the background of this family and the character of this young man. And, eventually, they would send some presents of their own to the uncle and to the boy's parents. Perhaps one of these would be a perfectly fashioned basket made by the girl herself, demonstrating that she had learned her skills well.

On this day in late spring, the boy looked across the grassy hillside and past one of the Kaweah's numerous channels and felt strong and manly. He thought how fortunate he would be if, that winter, he could move into the household of this girl and demonstrate both his love for her and his qualities as a man. His mind jumped ahead to the next year when, all being well, he would bring her home to his father's village and build their own thatched house and he would return to his life within his extended family. Perhaps she would be pregnant and they would have a child who would be a coyote like him.


All of the aspects of material culture, enumerated in the previous two chapters, proceeded and developed within the overarching structure of indigenous society. With few exceptions, these were small cooperative societies. The skills of food acquisition and manufacturing were taught and learned within this context. And, here, people passed from birth through maturity to death.

When we think of the Indians of North America, it is natural to think of tribes as their primary social institutions. A tribe is essentially an ethnic nation which is unified by its possession of a common history, language, and culture. As generally understood, the tribe also possesses political unity which reflects clear leadership and the ability to act collectively. Early experiences with tribes of the Eastern Coast confirmed these traits. Early in the 20th Century, however, Alfred Kroeber observed that California tribes, recognized for their participation in a common language and cultural heritage, did not identify themselves politically and, consequently, rarely acted collectively or recognized any particular political authority over them. "Tribes did not exist in California in the sense in which the word is properly applicable to the greater part of the North American continent," Kroeber wrote. And he continued, saying, "when the term is used it must therefore be understood as synonymous with 'ethnic group' rather than as denoting political unity." (Kroeber, 1922; 283)

In seeking political unity and collective activity of any kind, Kroeber asserted, we must subdivide the tribe into regional groups and these have come to be called tribelets. A tribelet occupied a small region, representing an habitual association of people and including several villages or settlements. While these people identified with the cultural heritage of their tribe, they had defined their own heritage sufficiently to establish independent aspects of oral history and probably spoke a distinct dialect of the tribal language. Only in the dynamics of the tribelet did Kroeber and others find signs of collective activity and recognition of some central authority, in other words, a true political identity. However, even this level of tribalism seemed lacking along the Northwestern Coast where even a single village could fail to possess political unity.

For the most part, then, each tribal area in California was made up of several tribelets. Kroeber himself estimated the existence of 500 tribelets, ranging from 100 to 500 people in size; however, later population estimates make it clear that tribelet sizes must have ranged upward to 1000. The tribelet region allowed for a number of village sites; and the density of sites, hence the overall population, depended upon the wealth of resources available within the ecological zone(s) involved. Individual village names were usually determined by specific features of the village locale.

As quickly as we accept the basic political strength of the tribelet, however, we have to acknowledge various exceptions and divergencies; the generalization was violated in both directions. There were, indeed, some California tribes that behaved along more classical lines --- perhaps the Yokuts, Yumans, and Chumash. At the same time, there were tribes that apparently expressed little political coherence at all no matter how small a region one considered --- perhaps the Yurok and Washo. Even within regions where California's indigenous people conformed to the generalization of tribelet political unity, there were other organizational structures, or institutions, that tended to bond tribelets to tribes or even bond people beyond normal tribal boundaries. The restrictions imposed upon marriage often made marriages across tribelet, and even tribal boundaries necessary; thus, intermarriage and consequent family alliances bound tribelets together in various ways. Furthermore, even if there was little formal structure for inter-tribal alliances and trade associations, the economic and strategic importance of such associations was often strong enough to exert real political force. When family relations crossed tribal boundaries, they often tied together diverse topographical and ecological features of the environment; thus, they achieved enduring strength because of the ways in which they tied together resources that might otherwise be disfunctionally separated by tribal barriers. (Bean, 1976; 103-4)

As I have mentioned above, the tribelet contained several villages, depending upon the density of resources. These villages were typically of different sizes; but while the larger villages typically enjoyed higher political status, each village had the same essential structure, including its own political and social hierarchies. The smallest villages were little more than extended families with, perhaps, a few "resident aliens." Other villages involved several family lineages. Few villages in California grew larger than 100 people.

The Family

The family was the principal starting place for all social organization. The specific pattern of family formation and association chosen by a cultural group resulted directly, over a long period of time, in the formation of villages and tribelets. One was born into a family; the family provided nourishment and security; the family educated its children and associated with them, later, as married adults; one died within one's family and was mourned by them. Family was the context in which all life was lived; the extended family was the actual expression, for any present, of the timeless path of people (ancestors and successors) spanning past-into-future.

The basis of family lies in marriage customs. Whom could a young person marry and when? In California, marriage followed puberty rather closely and most first marriages involved little difference in age. Later marriages either came as a result of divorce or death and might result in significant age differences. Both marriage and divorce were largely "family affairs" and neither was more formally institutionalized. What was culturally institutionalized was the pattern of acceptable marriages. This pattern was dictated by lineage and by moiety, where moiety groups existed. For most Californians, marriage was exogamous (or outward bound) with respect to both.

When an acceptable marriage partner had been identified, the central custom that regulated marriage was a negotiation between families that rested on the concept of a "bride price." This did not always mean literally that a young man, or his relatives, had to pay a specific amount to the bride's family; it could mean that he might contribute to her family's well being in other ways, even working off the "bride price" as a debt to them. Furthermore, it could be a more subtle negotiation of "suitability" based on subjective assessments of family status and objective assessments of personal strengths and capacities. Was the young man a good hunter? Could the young woman weave baskets? Where in a stratified social milieu did the families lie? The seriousness with which the "bride price" was taken varied considerably throughout the state. For instance, it was taken quite seriously in the Northwest and was trivialized or even ignored in the Great Basin, east of the Sierra.

Marriage was a practical rather than romantic institution. This is not to say that passion, love, and affection were not involved, especially in first marriages; but it is to say that marriage was fundamentally a partnership that was critical to survival. A young man's character and skills were carefully scrutinized for his ability to provide for the bride and future family through hunting and manufacture. A young woman's character was equally scrutinized for her ability to provide food gathering and preparation as well as women's manufactures, basketry in particular. The family unit was the fundamental economic unit in which basic production occured. People outside of the family unit were, more often than not, burdens to the village community; that is, not being in a strong position for productivity, they had to rely on cooperative sharing by the community.

The pragmatism of marriage was so great, in fact, that a variety of customs were practiced that s