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.

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 piñon pine, or pinus monophillia. Piñon 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, piñon 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. Piñon 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. Piñon 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 piñon 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.

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)

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.

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

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)

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 seem either unusual or outright unacceptable to the European mind. One of these was an almost automatic remarriage to a sister or brother rather quickly after the death of a spouse. Even more surprising to the European, polygyny (a man marrying two women) and polyandry (a woman marrying two men) were also practiced. A man, for instance, might marry two women so that their combined work would effectively maintain the household, provide for child care, and offer mutual support. When the man married sisters in this way, it was an especially effective formula for smooth running of the household, presuming that the sisters had a long, affectionate, and cooperative past. A woman might marry another man so that more food would be brought into the household. Polyandry was especially valuable in ecological regions where the food quest was very challenging and cooperative hunting was already a necessity --- hence, in the Great Basin and desert regions of Southern California. Polygyny was more common and is reflected in various ways --- in language, in the similarity of terms used for a wife's sister and, in practice, in the preference of a widower to marry his deceased wife's sister.

Divorce stemmed from common, if not universal, complaints --- sexual incompatibility, lack of fertility, infidelity, lack of adequate provision for the family, or abuse. One partner simply moved back to his/her family; usually it was the bride who moved back in with her parents. In that respect, marriage was either a fact of actual day-to-day life or it did not exist; though the families might urge a reconciliation, at least until that seemed practically hopeless. If blame could be directed toward the bride, then the husband's family might request some form of reimbursement for the "bride price."

After marriage, where, or with whom, would the young people live and begin their new family? To whom would the children of this family relate most directly? The possibilities are three --- traditional affiliation with the young man's family (patrilineal), traditional affiliation with the young woman's family (matrilineal), and an ambivalent tradition that allowed the couple to decide their own residence, usually, on the basis of economic opportunity (ambilocal). The most common custom in California was a patrilineal arrangement in which the new couple moved in with the man's parents and, when they did set up an independent residence, did so within the patrilineal village. This permanent residence usually followed a preliminary residence of up to one year with the bride's family. In this situation, the husband's character and abilities could be further scrutinized and much of his productivity during the period would go to her family, establishing an obligation to her family and village that would connect him to them over the long term. When born, the children would associate with the father's lineage.

In the patrilineal situation, the young woman almost always retained relations and rights with her parents, within the matrilineal village; this was a factor of great importance in binding together villages and tribelets, both internally and externally. Since marriages were arranged between families who perceived themselves as being near each other in economic and social standing, the cross-binding of families produced by these customs held chiefs and others of significant status together across villages and tribelets and established a unity in the leadership that had to be appreciated in all situations, even in warring raids or spiteful attempts at revenge.

Having considered some of the practical details, we need to consider the systematic details of custom and culture. Virtually all California families followed a principle of kinship exogamy; that is, an eligible young person could not consider marrying a person related by kinship. But who is kin? Each culture had its own particular formula for kinship relations, usually best reflected in their language. In some tribes no one could marry within five generations of kinship associations; among the Cahuilla, for instance, this led to an extremely complex vocabulary of kinship terms through which all of the associations could be mastered. More commonly, no marriages were allowed within three generations. In most situations, the kinship rules forced at least an informal "village exogamy," though the Chumash are interesting for their preference of "village endogamy" even at the sacrifice of lesser kinship distinctions. In Table 3, next page, there is a chart illustrating a very simple patrilineal village for three generations. Note the number of diverse relatives that the young man, at bottom left, must keep in memory in order to select a prospective bride.

In a simple patrilineal village such as the one illustrated here, all of the young women of appropriate age are related. Furthermore, since women have been marrying outside of the village for three generations, there are other young women in surrounding villages who are also related. It is essential, in this situation, that families remain in contact and that children learn their relationships by mastering the complex vocabularies that characterize even the most indirect of relationships. In contrast, consider the widely used English term "cousin" which fails to distinguish the varieties of ways in which a person can be a cousin. This lack of linguistic caution reflects the European's occasional acceptance of cousins marrying cousins.

Table 3. A Single Patrilineal Village

Note: M=male and F=female; chart assumes only two children per couple, one male and one female; females must marry outside village; chart refers to matrilineal village if M=mother and F=father; numbers indicate marriageable children at bottom row.

In many California cultures, especially from San Joaquin Valley south, a form of totemism was also followed. The tribe was divided into moiety groups. Each moiety was named after and identified with a totemic animal, and the members of the moiety accepted protection of the animal as one of their obligations. The moiety division was superimposed upon kinship relations and exogamy (marrying outside) was usually required with respect to moiety.

A village was usually built along the line of a single moiety, even when it included multiple lineages; but this happened naturally if it was founded on a single lineage. In a patrilineal system, for instance, the children took the moiety of the father and the sons brought their wives back to set up residence in the village. This meant that any young person must marry outside the village --- since all eligible young women would be of the same moiety and women of different moiety would, most likely, be older women related by marriage. Since the tribelet itself would consist of a mixture of moieties, young men could find marriageable young women of different moieties in neighboring villages of the tribelet. Moiety and kinship cooperated to make marriage a difficult task, indeed, and the young man was often forced to look far beyond his own village. Again, however, this had a very desirable effect of securing cooperative relationships and mutual obligations between villages and tribelets, making warfare less likely and providing economic aid when needed.

One may well ask why family and marriage should be further complicated by moiety exogamy. Sigmund Freud and others have considered the totemic traditions of most indigenous people and suggested long-term connections with taboos against incest. It is particularly suggestive that the patrilineal moiety tradition, which is most common throughout the world, passes the father's moiety to the children, including in particular the daughters; moiety exogamy, then, institutionalizes the taboo prohibition toward a father having sexual relations with his daughter. Indirectly related and of some interest is the fact that many California societies practiced a taboo on contact between in-laws. Most persistently practiced was a taboo against a young husband looking directly at or speaking directly to his mother-in-law. In so societies, in fact, there were taboos against sight and speech between any combination of parents-in-law and children-in-law.

Before leaving the family, I should also mention the fact that, in virtually all California cultures, families fell into different social and economic strata, and the family position in society was preserved both vertically, by inheritance, and horizontally, by properly negotiated marriages. Whether or not status was explicitly recognized in housing and clothing, it was always understood, in the village or tribelet setting, by oral tradition. In some cultures the social stratification was very elementary and broke down into merely three broad groups --- chiefly associations, commoners, and fringe elements. But other societies involved many more levels, including distinctions for people involved in craft guilds (a precursor to the Middle Class) and even slaves. The preeminent class-conscious Californians were the tribes of the Northwestern Coast who, like the culturally related people of the Northwest as a whole, had developed very strong lines of demarcation between classes and had nurtured various property rights, systems of favors, indentured service, and promotion of wealth. Among these people, indeed, class consciousness was so well entrenched that it largely displaced political authority. Villagers tended to rally around the leadership of those who possessed wealth and traditional status.

Population and Resource Balance

Now that I have outlined the basis of indigenous villages in the institutions of marriage and family, there are aspects of village life that ought to receive some treatment. I include here systems of cooperation and of population balance. While these were not always institutionalized, as such, Native Californians fell into a fairly natural pattern of approach to these as tradition itself dictated.

Beyond the existence of organizations or systems of social order, people were bound together by various traditional behaviors. Hunting, fishing, and gathering were so crucial to survival that they were rarely left to personal invention or whim. Even when pursued individually, they were always performed well within strict traditions of seasonal timing, cooperative sharing, and equitable distribution.

A hunter was rarely allowed to eat something that he himself had killed; the meat would be distributed within the family and outward to others who were owed attention. This meant that the hunter himself was dependent upon others for his own food and maintained cooperation as the fundamental principle of subsistence. The sharing of food resources usually extended well beyond the village itself and was tied into relationships of obligation through marriage. This had the double advantage of tying separate villages and tribelets into the security of mutually assured survival and also of extending a village's utilization of resources over a much larger region than it could comfortably secure on its own. As we will see, later, cooperation of this kind was carefully ritualized in social custom.

Cooperativeness was exercised over competitiveness also in a variety of rituals that signalled when a certain food source could be hunted or harvested. These so-called "first fruit" rituals were seen as sacred and essential social occasions, but they also had the practical effect of organizing the timing of access to food sources. This meant, for instance, that acorn harvesting began when a village's leadership decided that it should and not when one or another individual wished to secure a competitive edge by going off on his own.

Villages, and even families, had "rights" to hunt, fish, or gather in particular (often marked) areas. Generally, territories were divided equitably for these purposes, though the economic stratification along the Northwest Coast led to a highly inequitable distribution of fishing privileges and consequent social power of those who possessed the "fishing rights." These privileged areas were known to people in surrounding villages as well and were usually respected by them. In fact, however, one of the more common causes of anger, violence, or outright warfare between villages was failure to respect a village's claimed proprietary rights to certain hunting or harvesting privileges. While such rights were clear, they should not be confused with the European-American institution of private property.

Underlying these institutions of social control lay an oral history of each village that had great depth in time. This history not only contained material relating to villages, families, and great individuals, but it also importantly included material about food resources. Hence, the village was conscious of a sense of balance between population and resource abundance. Not only was equitable distribution a factor in social organization but maintenance of this balance was crucial as well. Certain temporary adjustments could be made when problems were perceived; however, the long-term key to balance was population control.

Within indigenous societies, population control was naturally handled in at least two ways. First, the tendency toward locality prevented any substantial amount of inward migration --- hence, the disaster when the Gold Rush brought thousands of Europeans and Americans into the state. Second, the natural difficulty of life kept a harsh balance between births and deaths so that Indian societies were not likely to over-populate themselves. In contrast, the European systems of agriculture and animal husbandry, especially modern agri-business, having untied food production from possession of land and the family unit, have separated us from any natural population control. Obviously, advances in health sciences have cooperatively created a population crisis in which the only hope for population control and resource balance must be motivated by humans rather than by nature.

In addition to these natural factors, indigenous societies utilized ritual customs that, indirectly at least, limited procreation. A woman experiencing menstruation usually lived separately in a menstruation hut for a period of time; taboos relating to "blood contamination" undoubtedly extended the duration of this separation too. Sexual abstinence was demanded throughout pregnancy and was often required over a long term after birth, perhaps so long as the mother nursed the child.

Male sexual activity was generally regarded as weakening or contaminating to the man both physically and spiritually; hence, sexuality was tabooed in conjunction with many male activities that required full physical and spiritual engagement. This included hunting and fishing, at the very least, but might also include a variety of other spiritually significant practices or events. This complex of beliefs and practices meant that the availability of husband and wife for procreation was significantly limited.

Finally, as action directed at population control, Indian women used a variety of herbal concoctions that produced temporary or permanent infertility. Women practiced abortion when necessary and possible. Furthermore, infanticide, while never wide spread, was an acceptable option.

Society

While survival depended upon a daily , and sometimes difficult, engagement with food acquisition and attendance to material well being, Californians enjoyed a society that was usually rich and complex. A host of ritual practices and other activities helped to shape this society. Ritual practices brought all the people together, periodically, or were singularly meaningful for individuals who were moving through an important phase of life --- initiation to adulthood, for instance. Other social activities occured on a day-to-day basis, brought people together, and enhanced the quality of life --- including games, gambling, and story telling.

The birth of a child was surrounded with ritual practices that made this a momentous event for both the mother and the child. The expectant mother was required to follow dietary practices and restrict her activities; these were designed for both physical and spiritual health of the newborn. The newly delivered baby and the mother were usually treated to an extensive period of nurturing and cleansing afterward; and the baby was usually welcomed into the tribe with a significant sense of co-membership felt and expressed by all.

Youthful members of society, both boys and girls, began serious studies or mentorship relations with elders as they approached puberty. Initiation signified more than the physical transition to adulthood; it was also a transition into full membership in the community. Boys and girls, both, had to master their new responsibilities. But this was also a passage into individuality and spiritual integrity so the initiation set the child-becoming-adult onto a new and personal course that would establish the inidividual's path throughout life.

The death of an individual was always met by energetic grief-stricken mourning which included singeing the hair quite short, covering the hair stubble with pitch, and blackening of faces. Mourning was commonly carried on for a long while, perhaps to be released, along with the spirit of the dead person, in a ritual ceremony much later. The spiritual (ghostly) presence of the deceased was commonly assumed, though most people believed that the spirit would eventually set out along a path to the Spirit World where it would make its final home. Since power always revolved around figures in the spirit world there was a strong taboo against speaking of the dead.

Actual customs of burial or cremation varied, as did customs toward the disposition of property; the state was almost equally divided on this issue. Cremation was practiced throughout Southern California, including the coastal region from near Malibu south. On the other hand, most of the Great Basin portion of Eastern California, the desert lands, and the Chumash practiced burial of their dead. Moving northward, we find most of the people along the Central Pacific Coast and along the western slope of the Sierras practicing cremation. Finally, starting with a line that might run horizontally through Chico, almost all people to the north again practiced burial. When practiced, cremation occurred soon after the person's death; the styles of burial varied from one part of the state to another.

Along the path from birth to death, there is much time that, in spite of the demands of survival, is not spent in food gathering or manufacture. Entertainment was achieved in a variety of ways common to all Californians. Gossip and teasing were common forms of entertainment, especially centering around mating relations of eligible young adults. Shinny was a popular athletic game. Cat's Cradle was virtually universal. Among the adults, gambling games of different kinds were extremely popular and the simple game of hiding-and-guessing, comparable to our own pea-and-shell game, was universal. Gambling required preparation and it could go on for hours. A successful gambler was viewed as being in possession of "powers;" thus, successful gambling was a route to development of reputation and social stature. Tobacco use was universal in California, as well as elsewhere in North America, though tobacco use was more than just entertainment, being part ritual, part bonding, and part spiritual cleansing.

The most common form of entertainment was telling, or listening to, stories. Stories could be rather short or quite long. They divide into "origin stories," "animal stories," and "historic or moral tales." Origin stories, including creation myths, were usually reserved for ceremonial occasions; animal stories and moral tales were told more generally for entertainment. The story teller developed dramatic voices and played to the crowd's enthusiasm. One can only imagine the excitement that must have developed inside a large house, in the cold of winter, warmed by a small fire and the closeness of others, hooting and howling to a story teller's jokes and antics, propelled into excitement by the crowd's laughter or cries of surprise or terror. It was in this theater that Coyote assumed his right as the Californian's most significant and certainly pervasive cultural icon.

Authority and Civic Roles

Finally, we must turn to political institutions since most tribelets did express a certain amount of political unity. The head political figure of California social organization was the chief, though "head man" is probably a better expression in most situations and "captain" was occasionally used. The chief was usually an older man who inherited the position from his father; however, there are recorded instances of older women who were chiefs as well as chiefs who were selected by the community rather than being designated by inheritance. Incompetence or unwillingness to serve were definite factors that would prompt the community to replace a newly designated chief. Nor was it necessary to have a single chief; there were situations where two or more chiefs were recognized. As a general rule, each village had a chief, or head man, and the chief of the principal village in a tribelet was recognized as the superior chief among them.

The most important point to recognize in any discussion of indigenous political organization, in California, is that the chief did not exercise authority in any of the ways that the concept of political leadership implies for us. The chief's actions were culturally interpretive and exemplary, not directive or authoritative. People looked to the chief as the cultural icon and as the expression of the village's best. But they were also free to do as they might regardless of the chief's pronouncements. This should scarcely be interpreted as political impotence, of course, since the overarching traditionalism and conformity of Californians certainly made acknowledgement of the chief's wisdom customary and one could pay a high price in social abuse or neglect if one ignored a chief's wisdom in some matter.

The chief's wisdom was demanded primarily in collective economic affairs and in issues of internal "law" and "foreign relations." The chief sat in judgment, assisted perhaps by other elders, when anyone was accused of violating any of the unwritten moral or legal codes of the society. The chief's position in this became even more serious when relations with another village, tribelet, or tribe were involved in the violation. Certainly, in any incident that affected two villages, the chiefs were the ones who came together to discuss the matter and to weigh the fairness of certain settlements. While indigenous people respect the experience and wisdom of all older people, men and women, and always consult with elders on troublesome issues, the chief is especially involved in difficult controversies. These might be issues or disputes within the village, but they are most commonly issues between villages. The issues themselves might be hunting or harvesting rights to a specific territory, a slight or insult between families or individuals, a loss or injury at the hands of some person, or a death. If the dispute is inside the village, the chief will work out a settlement in consultation with the elders. If it is between two villages, the chiefs from the two villages will work out a settlement. If a dispute is between tribelets, then chiefs from several villages will negotiate and decide collectively. Law, like everything else, is maintained by oral tradition and is fairly simple. Injuries are usually blamable just because they have happened and do not involve subtle distinctions of motive. Even a death is usually paid back in work, resources, or estrangement; capital punishment, while not unknown in California, is not common.

The connection between wealth and chieftainship was for the largely obvious reason that the chief, as cultural icon, was first in line to trade with people from outside, to entertain visitors, and to give a party or host a celebration. Because of the long established heredity involved, the chief's family was usually the most wealthy of the village; but the system of chieftainship also delivered continuing wealth to the chief since it was recognized that he needed resources with which to represent the village. In a very important sense, the office of chief represented a symbol of the whole cooperative economy of sharing, since everyone shared abundantly with the chief but, essentially, by expression of an ideal which the chief symbolized as one who shares with everyone else. This system of sharing and keeping informed of villagers who need help stands at the center of the chief's economic position. Equally, when it came to trading with visitors from other villages, tribelets, or tribes, the chief was the person who received the visitors and had the first opportunity to conduct trade. It was in this sense as well that the chief was always the interpreter and exemplar of the tribelet's level and particular disposition toward the tribe's culture.

The chief was the principal ceremonialist and most ceremonies involved the economy, either explicitly or implicitly. "First-fruit ceremonies," for instance, were announced and staged by the chief, and they played a very important role in controlling the harvesting of crucial resources so that the harvesting would be a collective experience and not available to a me-first appropriation by individuals. Even ceremonies, like the Cahuilla's "Ceremony for the Dead," or nukil, that have no obvious orientation to economics, played an essential economic role of re-distributing resources over a wide region and across ecological boundaries by a simple tradition of obligatory gift giving. (Bean, 197-;--)

The regular occurrence of ceremonies was also essential to the renewal process of bringing children together from distant villages (sometimes from as far away as 50 to 75 miles) and, ultimately, arranging marriage matches. Because family connections already existed between villages and tribelets, and were continually being established through new marriages, ceremonies served the additional purposes of bringing extended families together and suggesting opportunities for cooperative work or providing opportunities for re-distribution of resources. Continued intra-family and inter-village contact was essential to many aspects of indigenous economy, for instance, setting the boundaries for hunting and fishing grounds and assuring that rights would be respected. Ceremonial practice was important both in binding people and in organizing their activities. It was also important in maintaining a tribe's oral history and passing on gossip and news gleaned from outlying sources and experiences.

While the chief was the traditional, institutional host for these ceremonies, the annual cycle of ceremonies was far too demanding to rest on a single person. Tribelet organization included various lay ceremonialists and priests, as well as dancers and singers, who mastered traditions, took responsibility for passing tradition onward to the young, and implemented ceremonies at appropriate times. By no accident most of these roles were taken on by members of the chief's extended family so that both the system of hereditary chieftainship and of inter-village marriage-at-social-level knitted together all of the people who were mainly responsible for the ceremonial, economic, and cultural life of the tribe.

Another character who figured into most ceremonies was the shaman; but the shaman was not necessarily a member of the chief's extended family. Shamans, indeed, were "credentialled" in quite different ways, and the role of the shaman takes us beyond mere social organization. The following chapter is devoted to discussion of the shaman and the spiritual order that was served by the shaman's role in the community.

Initiation and Other Ceremonies

Two functions of the ceremonialists were of special importance in maintaining tribal culture; these were initiation of the young and laying the foundations for continuation of the tribe's oral history, songs, and dances. The ceremonialists, or priests, who accepted these responsibilities were usually older men or women within the tribelet village. They were respected and feared because of their social stature as well as wisdom. Perhaps they had also gained reputations among the young as strict disciplinarians. At any rate, when a boy was deemed ready, shortly prior to puberty itself, he would be adopted by one or more of these male ceremonialists who would begin his preparation for initiation. Much of the initiation consisted of instruction in the "manly arts" of crafting utensils, hunting, fishing, and engaging in warfare; some of this had already begun years before under parental supervision. But a new element was added to this, namely, more abstract instruction in the spiritual aspects of being a man within the tribe.

A part of this instruction was bearing up to burdens and even extremes of pain; thus, the initiation itself usually involved some ritual infliction of pain on the boys. Actual practices varied throughout the state, but they included being staked down to ant hills, having stinging nettles rubbed all over the body, and even being lightly wounded with arrows. Perhaps the actual form of pain was far less important than the boy's "possession" of an event that truly, once and for all time, marked his passage into manhood.

In other parts of the initiation experience, especially in the southern half of the state, the boys were conducted through an hallucinagenic experience through which, in the ideal, they successfully identified an animal guide. Since this aspect of the ritual initiation relates more directly to the spiritual life, I will defer discussion until the next chapter.

Girls received a similar kind of initiation from older women, though it came with puberty and bore less of the "initiation" character. The issue for girls was that of giving proper instruction, laying down the duties of the woman, exploring the woman's sexual and family life, and informing the girl about the preliminaries to pregnancy and child-birth. The girl's initiation did not involve trials or pain, though a girl under initiation training often had to remain secluded for a long period. And, while the girl usually did not pass through any hallucinagenic ritual to acceptance by the community, her emergence from this training period was certainly celebrated publicly. In some cultures, the Washo, for instance, the girl's "coming out" ceremony was one of the most elaborate, dramatic, and happy celebrations for the community as a whole.

One should mention, in this context, that all California cultures institutionalized a woman's menstruation so that menstruating women confined themselves to separate quarters, removed from the village's center. During this period, the women were relieved of family responsibilities. While the confinement was "justified" by the community as a way of dealing with the "impurity" of menstruation and the spiritually powerful forces linked with it, one can only imagine that this institution also provided a monthly pattern of communication among women, similar to the communication that was provided for the men through the sweatlodge.

We have alluded to the importance of ceremonies but have not really made clear how and why ceremonies were so important. A good, illustrative example is, perhaps, the ceremony for the dead; this was usually an annual ceremony that recognized those who had died since the previous one. (Blackburn, 1976; 225-44) We will discuss the spiritual import of this ceremony later, but the social and economic factors were of almost equal importance. In Southern California, this was the largest ceremony. The village offering the ceremony invited villagers from great distances away; in fact, participation across tribal boundaries was common among certain Southern tribes. (Blackburn, 1976; --) While the host village provided feasting for all participants, those whose deceased were being celebrated were responsible for many generous gifts of thanks to participants, and all participants were expected to bring offerings of foods, resources, or crafted items. In short, the ceremony was an opportunity for a very broadly based re-distribution of resources; and advanced communication, especially within extended families, prepared the way for this by sharing news about scarcities, local hardships, etc.

It is also of great importance that ceremonies provided periodic occasions for the performance of specific rituals important to the maintenance of culture. The Cahuilla's nukil, a ceremony for the dead, was a seven-day re-enactment of their creation story, the birth, rule, and death of Mukat. Thus, the ceremony provided an opportunity to tell or sing or dance all of the society's most sacred stories and to bind them once again within their tribal identification.

Societies and Guilds

There were other social institutions within California tribes and these were recognized as specific societies. These served the further purposes of binding people together and in directing social activity. Some societies were organized around religious practices, special seasonal ceremonies, or ritual celebrations; others were organized around hunting, fishing, and specialty crafts. Since some animals could be hunted effectively only by cooperative activity, the traditional associations that formed hunting parties came to develop wider and more permanent significance. Among the Washo, for instance, there were associations of rabbit hunters and antelope hunters, and there were men in each who were recognized as "head men," e.g., the "rabbit boss;" these men, in fact, loomed larger than chief's in Washo village authority.

In some tribes, craft guilds assumed the proportions of powerful secret societies. Among these were the makers of sinew-backed bows, shell money, and plank canoes. Crucial resources and procedures in the crafts became "trade secrets" and membership was jealously guarded. Where present, craft societies usually produced further social stratification, and members assumed positions of economic and social stature between the chiefly leaders and the common villagers.

In sum, indigenous society in California was closely linked with marriage, child rearing, and maintenance of extended families. People closely identified themselves with village and tribelet and, hence, geographical location. Beyond the tribelet, there was a traditional association with tribe and culture. The place of a particular tribelet, even a particular family, in tribal history was carefully documented in oral history and passed on through story telling. In all California societies there was a certain amount of social differentiation, and this was based primarily on age, wealth, and accomplishment. Because all people felt a deep sense of continuity with the past, family status was transferred to individuals, who guarded it carefully. Survival and security were based on the continuity of past and present, repetition of seasonal activities, revisiting of traditional resources, and reliance on carefully articulated understandings. These were not societies that aimed at individualistic innovation; rather they were based on long-standing cooperation and conformity to tradition.

Bean, Lowell John. "Social Organization" in HNAI, 8

Blackburn, Thomas C. "Ceremonial Integration and Social Interaction in Aboriginal California" in Bean, Lowell John and Thomas C. Blackburn (eds.) Native Californians: A Theoretical Retrospective (Menlo Park, CA: Ballena Press, 1976)

Kroeber, Alfred L. "The Tribe in California" in Heizer, R. F. and M. A. Whipple. The California Indians: A Source Book (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1971)

Kroeber, A. L. "California Kinship Systems" University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, Vol. 12, No. 9, pp. 339-396 (1917)