Volume 1, 3rd Edition

by Greg Robinson

This regular column will offer glimpses of Chinook culture and life, both ancient and modern. I dedicate this series of articles to the Elders, Ancestors, and people of the Chinook, Willapa, Wakiakum, Clatsop and Kathlamet. For the purpose of these articles, Chinook will be used representatively for all of the bands/tribes.

I will touch on ethno-botany, fishing/hunting, diet, housing, cordage, art, language and song. I would like to thank, in advance, my fellow Cultural Committee members, and all those who contribute information directly and indirectly to this column.

This article was written on the heels of the BIA's reversal of Chinook acknowledgement.

There are times during life's ebbs and flows that one stops to ponder meaning and purpose. It seems that highs are often followed by lows, like a sporadic and unpredictable tide. I find myself wishing, perhaps unrealistically, that somehow life could hover indefinitely over a high point. As if by doing something just right, I could manipulate destiny to the side of prosperity over misfortune.

Such romantic thoughts of utopia are not without merit. They inspire poetic masterpieces and music to sooth a weary soul. Indeed it provides a spark to fire creativity, inspiring courage, fortitude and an indomitable sense of hope. Man has been driven to superhuman feats in the face of adversity and despair, fueled by the premise that right will persevere over wrong, eventually and indisputably.

Native Americans in particular have proven themselves during times of struggle. Our peoples have consistently gone to war for this country, despite a nonstop crusade of oppression and annihilation. We have spilled our blood on foreign soil, far from our sacred lands, with the grieving cries of our relatives in our ears as we die, because it was the right thing to do. We have never shied away from battle, whether on the smoky battlefield, or in the equally murky fields of the justice system.

When the first explorers reached the Pacific Coast they found a harsh and bountiful country inhabited by industrious and diverse populations of native peoples. These people lived in cooperation with the natural world, not against it. This land was not discovered by these explorers, it already existed and operated in a harmonic balance as it had from time immemorial.

Natural balance is not rock steady however. The lever sways occasionally from side to side. Our people were subjected to fluctuations in climate and weather, and the aggressive intentions of neighboring tribes. There were winter shortages, drought and severe winter storms. But the natural world maintained a balance over these extremes, providing us with a prosperous stability for the majority of our existence.

That changed forever when the first ship crossed the bar. Natural balance was trampled when European boots stepped upon our beaches, bringing the scourges of the modern world to our lands.

At first we maintained our dominance over our lands and resources, dealing with the Europeans as merely a new trading partner. But like fleas on a new dog, they poured into Chinook country with a vengeance, riding a black horse named greed. They cut trees and built trading posts and forts on Indian land. Their thirst for our resources was unquenchable. The high tide had carried a plague to our country, and only exploitation was left at the ebb.

In the beginning our numbers presented a daunting wall of strength. The uninvited were forced to deal with us as a superior power. But history had taught them a strategy. Aboriginal peoples had long been decimated by disease in the wake of European expansion. With patience, the same trend would be repeated on the Big River.

The first plagues came well before the arrival of Lewis and Clark, drifting like a dark cloud from the interior, seeping down our trade routes until reaching our villages, with following plagues introduced to the coast by European sailors. But the Chinook people were strong, and persevered, maintaining control over their vast network of trading routes despite a massive loss of life.

The horror and scope of these plagues can hardly be imagined today. Small Pox is a murderer of indiscriminate selection. Our children and warriors were struck down with equal disregard; the deaths were often slow and excruciating, others fast and virulent. Villages inhabited for hundreds of years were abandoned to the invisible slayers. The important burial processes were compromised due to the sheer numbers of dead. The insidious effects of those first boot prints had begun.

When Lewis and Clark arrived decades later they expected to find a tribe easily manipulated to attend to the explorers needs. Instead, they found a generous people who were shrewd beyond words in the art of trade. Throughout the cold and wet winter, the explorers experienced frustration in trying to trade trinkets for survival goods. The ploy, after all, had worked so well with the tribes along the way. But with the Chinook, they found a people that expected, and demanded, fair value when exchanging goods.

Despite the explorer's attempts at exploiting our people, we treated them with generosity. We even allowed the explorers to take precious cedar planks from our nearby longhouses for use in the construction of Ft. Clatsop. We supplied the crew with food supplies throughout the winter, helping them avert severe malnutrition. Even with such displays of generosity and support, the Corps of Discovery recorded, in their journals, that the Chinook were untrustworthy and lacking moral character. Yet, it was Lewis and Clark that stole a Chinook Canoe for their return trip, after unsuccessful attempts to trade for one; justifying it by saying the Chinook had stolen some elk meat. How do a people steal their own meat? That would be comparable to being a guest at someone's farm, killing one of their cows, and then stealing the farmer's car for taking his meat back.

Lewis and Clark left Chinook Country, but the incursions from sea continued to increase. When furs were depleted, the American and European settlers began to concentrate on Salmon and Oysters. The lust for timber and land quickly followed suit, paving the road to the Chinook homeland with the golden bricks of exploitation.

Under pressure to concede large portions of land to settlers, the Chinook signed the Tansy Point Treaty, in good faith, knowing we would at least continue to reside in the land of our ancestors; the treaty was, conveniently, never ratified. The President sent more negotiators to speed up our removal to distant reservations, out of sight, out of mind. But our ancestors, who remain buried in Chinook country, have always tied our people to the land and the following treaty attempts failed as a result. As traders extraordinaire, we recognized a bad deal. By failing to ratify Dart Treaty, the legacy of betrayal had once again been perpetuated.

What followed was a nonstop effort at dispersion and assimilation. Chinook fishermen were removed by force from fishing grounds used continuously for thousands of years. Families were separated, when Chinook children were removed from their homes and sent to Indian Schools. Small Pox yielded to the equally destructive scourges of alcoholism, Tuberculosis, and Diabetes. Economics forced families to relocate in search of jobs and homes. Many went to neighboring reservations. But still, through it all, most of the Chinook People stayed the force of the storm, and held their ground.

We reorganized our government, and continued to meet as we always had. Our fisherman adapted to the rules and regiments of those who wished us to disappear and we continued to fish. We told our stories, and sang our songs. We bought homes and land that were already ours, and we continued to live where we always have lived. We bought oyster beds, and continued to harvest oysters.

We fought in court to regain some of our rights and filed for acknowledgment with a government who had never legally unacknowledged us. After twenty years, the Clinton Administration attempted to right a long standing wrong, and awarded the Chinook People federal acknowledgement. But money and politics once again entered the ring, and between the Quinault protest and the Bush administration, the ruling was controversially overturned.

These are not defeats, for we are a people who have never been defeated. Instead we stand stronger against the storm and face our adversaries. Strategies have been modified and courses of action implemented.

Our canoes continue to ply the waters of the Great River and Willapa Bay. We attend the functions of other tribes who question not our status. We are bombarded with requests for our culture and advice from both private and governmental entities. The many Lewis and Clark organizations have pledged their full support. In reality, everyone recognizes the Chinook as a tribe, except a corrupt and politically biased BIA.

We are going nowhere, for we have always been here. This is the land of our ancestors; it is the land of the Chinook, and it will always be so. We will never falter in our stand against this storm; we will remain forever vigilant and strong. For we have not fought for survival, we have survived to fight.

Volume 1, 2nd Edition

by Greg Robinson

LaXayfN kHanawi-Laksta. "Hello everyone." Welcome to the second installment of Chinook Life. I dedicate this series of articles to the Elders, Ancestors, and people of the Chinook, Willapa, Wakiakum, Clatsop and Kathlamet. I would like to thank, in advance, my fellow Cultural Committee members, and all those who contribute information directly and indirectly to this column.

As I sit here at my keyboard and watch my boys play outside I cannot help but smile and feel blessed. There is a certain immortality to the way children play, the same type of timelessness that one smells on the river air or hears as the surf pulses endlessly to shore.
They push and shove, run and shout, and unleash their imagination into a world that they create before them. Their energy is as pure as it is ancient and their laughter transcends the ages.

If we were to allow our modern, overburdened, minds to drift, just a little, we could travel on that laughter, just as the children do. Like a piece of eagle down caught in the wind, we can return to a time and place where forests of giant Spruce and Cedar crowd the great river, and the blackened canoes of our people slice through the food-rich waters.

Rows of long houses appear from the mist. Smoke drifts lazily from the Cedar-plank roofs, mingling with the mist before it disappears into a low, gray sky. The ground is worn smooth by feet, and dogs bark at children as they run and play.

The people are moving in and out of the longhouses, through the round, portal-like entrances, as the dawn brightens into morning. There is an excitement in the village. The time of the winter dances has passed and spring comes bearing fresh gifts to the people. Earlier, the river thickened with the arrival of the Smelt runs. Tens of thousands of pounds have been raked and dipped from the river. The delicate little fish, cooked fresh, are a welcome rest bit from the dried stocks of winter. The remainder of the Smelt harvest is smoke-dried on long strings and hung in the smoke houses and rafters of the longhouses. Skunk Cabbage and Cow Parsnip have arrived, followed by the succulent shoots of the Salmon Berry. The Spring Chinook Salmon are entering the river and it will soon be time for the First Salmon Ceremony.

It is a green time, a time of renewal and rebirth. The Black Cottonwoods are perfuming the air with the smell of honey, and the swallows have returned to dance on the scented wind. On the riverbanks goslings scurry behind their wary parents, and from the forest shadows, male Grouse beat their courtship drums.

The nights are filled with the sounds of life, as children sleep in their beds and dream of sweet berries on the vine. Countless frogs chirp a noisy lullaby, and the wings of returning waterfowl hiss overhead. The world has awakened from its winter slumber.
Soon the days will become heavy with work, as tons of salmon strain the drying racks. Women will spend long hours in the field in search of the first roots, and then probe the muddy bottoms of ponds, with their toes, for the starchy Wapato bulbs.
It is the time of year when cedar bark is gathered, as the sap begins to run. It is peeled in long strips from the bellies of the trees. The outer bark is separated from the inner, which is rolled into neat bundles for curing for use throughout the season. The bark will be used for waterproof hats, or intermixed with dog-hair to make a warm cape. Some will be dyed for decoration in intricate wrap-twined bags and purses, or twisted into a rope strong enough to snare big game.

Little boys run with their little bows, shooting their arrows into the heaving sides of Elk. With a triumphant shout, they pull their arrows from a rotting stump and race off to continue the chase, of the imaginary herds. They aspire to greater times, when they can blacken their faces as warriors and carry their powerful war bows, decorated with the red scalps of woodpeckers, and imbued with power. With apprehension and excitement, they look towards the day when they will seek seclusion and the quest for a spirit. They wonder if they will be successful in acquiring a powerful spirit, bringing them luck in gambling, stealth or some other good fortune. They could become great hunters, or the highly regarded canoe makers. Or perhaps their destiny will be to tread rarely traveled paths as doctors for our people.

Little girls meticulously care for their cattail infants, tucking them carefully into the cradleboards. They have the great power of childbirth. They will learn the secrets of the plants and roots, and be responsible for gathering and storing critical supplies. They might aspire to become great weavers and basket makers, or women of influence, involved in barter and trade. There are many lessons to learn, such as making waterproof cooking baskets of spruce root, or the making of dyes and paints. They will learn mat making, and how to separate fibers from the stalks of the stinging nettle to make gill nets and rope. They will learn to discern a cooking rock from an ordinary rock, and how to spin dog hair into wool. There will be cooking lessons, and poultice recipes to learn. For as women, they will have many skills to master, but for now, before the daily chores, there are dolls and puppies to carry.

As my thoughts wander back to my boys, I realize that the link between then and now has never been broken. Despite the computers and video games, two boys play as children have always played, and in their eyes sparkles both the past and the future.

If I listen carefully, I might hear what they have heard all along, the sound of little arrows in the air, and the cries of a cradled-baby, made of cattail.

LaXayfN (Goodbye)

Volume 1, 1st Edition

by Greg Robinson

LaXayfN kHanawi-Laksta. "Hello everyone." Welcome to the first installment of Chinook Life. This regular column will offer glimpses of Chinook culture and life, both ancient and modern. I dedicate this series of articles to the Elders, Ancestors, and people of the Chinook, Willapa, Wakiakum, Clatsop and Kathlamet. For the purpose of these articles, Chinook will be used representatively for all of the bands/tribes.

I am starting this inaugural column with a brief overview of Chinook history and location. In future articles, I will address a varied array of subjects. I will touch on ethno-botany, fishing/hunting, diet, housing, cordage, art, language and song. I would like to thank, in advance, my fellow Cultural Committee members, and all those who contribute information directly and indirectly to this column.

Our people's position at the mouth of the Columbia River and nearby Willapa Bay afforded us access to some of the richest arrays of resources on this continent. Waterways provided a network of trade routes that spread, like a spider web, hundreds of miles along the coast, and inland to Puget Sound, Hood Canal, the Chehalis River, and even onto the plains. The combination of these two factors culminated in a trading society unrivaled in the western half of the continent.
Semi-subterranean longhouses provided refuge from the endless rain and wind of winter, some large enough to house over a hundred people. Larger villages contained twenty or more longhouses of varying sizes. Inside these comfortable houses, the winter dances, songs and stories were told as the fires cracked and cast their long shadows. Some longhouses were temporarily abandoned for the summer fishing camps; others were occupied year round.
Five types of salmon returned to the Columbia River and Willapa Bay in numbers unimaginable today. Indeed, they were the heaviest runs of salmon on earth. Smelt, sturgeon, suckers, several species of trout, whitefish, eels and other fish rounded out the wealth. The beaches offered an abundance of clams, mussels, oysters and the occasional stranded whale. Offshore were sea lions, harbor seals (olxayu), sea otters, and waterfowl by the millions. The forests were rich in elk, deer (Nawich), bear, beaver, river otter (nanANuks) and small game. Wapato (wapatu) abounded upriver, and the local plains turned purple with the flowering of the Camas (lakaNAs). Cattails, Rush, Sweet Grass Sedge, Nettle, Salmon Berry, Salal, Lilly bulbs and ferns were just a sprinkling of the plant resources. What was unavailable locally was obtained through our extensive trade network.
We were highly acclaimed canoeists, skillfully navigating the treacherous Columbia River and bar to the amazement of the traders and explorers. We plied the coastal waters from California to Alaska in canoes (kaniN) twenty-one to forty-two feet long and larger, carved from a single Red Cedar log and propelled by our distinctly notched, crescent-shaped paddles (isik) of Oregon Ash. It was this skill of travel, which transformed us into a tribe of tremendous wealth and power.
Chinook life has always been dictated by a strict and complex system of taboos and ritual. Failure to follow ritual procedure might doom the individual, and/or the tribe, to bad luck, sickness or death. The rules and ritual formula could vary not only according to species, such as salmon, but might also vary according to location. For example, stranded whales (ikoli) are to be processed with extreme care, with strict accordance to guidelines, lest future whales drift away.

The myths and stories are steeped in the regiment of rules, and quintic references. The number five (qwinfN) is integral to Chinuk culture and appears repeatedly in the old stories and legends (ikanuN). From the five cold wind brothers, to the five salmon brothers, qwinfN is undoubtedly the most important Chinook number. The origins of its significance are obscure, although theories exist. One theory refers to the five directions. My personal, and totally unsubstantiated, theory is that it relates to the five salmon (qwAnat) species that run on the Columbia. Regardless of its origin, its power continues today. If you wish something to happen, repeat it five times. If you don't want something to happen, well, repeating it five times would be a bad idea.
Trade goods were diverse, with slaves (ilaytix) and Dentalium (alIkHochick) being two of the most important items. Though most slaves were acquired through other tribes, the Chinook occasionally conducted slave raids of their own. Dentalium was the hard, claw-shaped shell harvested off the shores of Vancouver Island, usually by the Nootkan people. Dentalium was the money of its day, and many items were valued in comparison to fathom length strings (iLana) of the valuable shell. Other important trade items included powdered salmon from upriver, canoes, the double elk-skin clamons (armor), cakes of dried Salal berries, Mountain Goat horn and even dried Buffalo (duyha) from the plains. Obviously, with the exposure to such a diverse pool of skill and materials, the Chinook people were able to capitalize on a tremendous amount of knowledge and expertise.

I hope you will enjoy these articles as much as I will enjoy sharing them. I consider cultural education to be of the utmost importance. Share what you learn with your children and relations. Learn the stories and songs, pass the legacy on, and the circle will continue. The rumors of our extinction have been greatly exaggerated. Hayu masi, "many thanks."

Chinook Fund Raiser

by Greg Robinson