In the boreal forest, where big game animals were often hard to find, fish were a life-saving staple for thousands of years. Archaeological and historical records reveal a wide variety of fascinating angling techniques used by Alberta’s First Nations.
To increase awareness of these practices and other elements of Alberta’s past, a collaborative team of the Historic Resources Management Branch, the Royal Alberta Museum, and the University of Alberta initiated the Heritage Art Series project. The goal is to create artwork that captivates the public in order to encourage the appreciation and protection of Alberta’s past.
The second painting in the series is a symbolic depiction of a mother teaching her daughter about the relationship between people and fish. First Nations survived in Alberta by passing down immense amounts of knowledge, which this image by Jenny Keith illustrates. The artwork also celebrates the role that women make to traditional diets. Fishng was primarily a women’s task in Northern Alberta. Women needed to know where to catch fish, how to make nets, how often to check them, and when to repair them.
The largest catch of fish was traditionally by gill net during fall spawning runs of whitefish. Whitefish were particularly important because they are high in fat, which becomes scarce in the north during long winters. Gill nets are long rows of interconnected squares that capture fish by the gills. What were nets made of before twine? Amazingly, women spent hundreds of hours weaving twisted willow bark or animal sinew into long nets.
This is an example of a willow bark net from the Royal Alberta Museum.
Gill nets were set across rivers or narrow channels during warmer months or were strung through holes under the ice in winter. Large fish were also shot with bow and arrow or were speared by canoe. Some First Nations made fishing arrowheads out of pike jaw bones: nothing catches fish better than fish! Jigging with hooks made of bone and wood was also done, primarily in winter. Hooks were baited with meat scraps, hair, feathers, and beaver oil.
Fishing increased in importance when Europeans arrived. Fur traders in Northern Alberta made a living on pelts but they lived on fish. At Fort Chipewyan in Northeast Alberta, traders caught 33 000 fish from October to January in 1822. The ration was four fish a day (and a potatoe if they were lucky). Some northern trade posts even had to be relocated because they lacked good access to fisheries.
The archaeological record of fishing is sparse because fishing tools are often organic while fish bones tend to be fragile: very little of this survives in Alberta’s acidic soils. Some interesting fish-related fnds include possible stone fish hooks, bone prongs used on fish spears, sinkers (weights) that weighed down nets, and fish vertebrae that were drilled to make beads.
This is a collection of pre-contact fish-related artifacts from Alberta that span several thousand years.
Recently developed scientific techniques have also enabled the recovery of fish blood from the edges of stone tools like arrowheads and knives. Even though fish bones don’t survive, archaeologists studying blood residue have been able to determine that fish like pike, walleye, and whitefish were caught thousands of years ago. Lastly, fur trade forts have yielded an interesting array of early hooks. Some are entirely metal while others, like the example below, are a combination of bone and iron.
This fur trade fish hook was found by Jack McIntosh at Dunvegan near Grande Prairie.
When asked to imagine ancient life and food harvesting practices, people often think of men stalking mammoths or stampeding buffalo over cliffs. In reality, for much of Alberta’s human history, women have made just as important if not more important contributions to traditional diets. The painting above is intended to broaden perspectives of hunting and fishing practices while emphasizing the social dimension of food harvesting. People didn’t just survive by capturing food; they persisted for thousands of years by acquiring generations of knowledge that was passed down from parent to child year after year after year.
Stay tuned for the next installation of the Heritage Art Series, which will present the physical record of cabins and their significance in Alberta’s early history.
Written by: Todd Kristensen, Northern Archaeologist, and Dr. Jack Ives.
Striking a Balance for Alberta’s Nonrenewable Archaeological Resources
For Eric Damkjar, Head of Archaeology, what the Archaeological Survey Section of the Historic Resources Management Branch does is akin to running a museum. Not a traditional museum, composed of artifacts encased in glass boxes under lock and key. Instead, archaeological specimens are scattered “across the landscape in the province, and [we]’re trying to look after those specimens,” reflects Damkjar.
Eric Damkjar, Head of Archaeology
The Archaeological Survey Section has a mandate to protect and to interpret the province’s archaeological heritage. This necessitates striking a balance between protecting archaeological sites through regulating and redirecting development, and unlocking the knowledge of Alberta’s prehistoric past through excavation projects that, ironically, are triggered by development.
Archaeological Survey maintains a database of some 40,000 archaeological sites in Alberta that includes known historic resources as well as lands that are “highly probable to have historic resources.” About half of those places have been further identified as high priority sites requiring protection. The provincial government relies on its relationships with different industry sectors, such as oil and gas, to become aware of potential risks to these sites. Those proposing development projects must check whether the potentially affected lands are included in the provincial database of sensitive areas, and if so, proponents must send Archaeological Survey their development plans. Damkjar and a team of archaeologists review the plans and decide if there is a need for a Historical Resources Impact Assessment (HRIA), which will recommend a course of action.
Archaeological Survey’s preferred action is for the proponents of development projects to voluntarily change their plans to avoid sensitive sites. When impact is unavoidable, the department prescribes excavation. Damkjar’s team then reviews the work, and determines whether the knowledge generated from excavation has compensated for the site’s destruction. But in some cases, Damkjar says, “the Act gives us the discretion [to say], you can’t develop that site, it’s too important to [the people of] Alberta.”
An example of the excavation option can be seen in the town of Hardisty. Today, many pipelines that are built in the province converge there. Twelve hundred years ago, people drove bison into a buffalo pound near Hardisty. Next to that site, they processed hides and meat. This area, so rich in archaeological significance, is today heavily impacted by pipelines: one was put in last year, one is currently under construction, and another one is proposed. “Bit by bit,” Damkjar states, “these pipelines are eating into these sites.” The proponents of the pipelines, constrained by geography (namely, a nearby river) and unable to avoid impacting the sites, have been required by Archaeological Survey to perform a great deal of excavation work. “It’s turning into a very interesting site,” notes Damkjar, yielding a glimpse of a culture that archaeologists call Avonlea.
Archaeological Survey works closely with other sections within the Historic Resources Management Branch, such as Historic Places Stewardship and Aboriginal Heritage, to identify and address potential risks to sites. The section is working to build relationships, too, with First Nations. “Obviously, prehistoric archaeology in Alberta is very relevant and close to the heart of First Nations people,” notes Damkjar. This realization has led Damkjar deep into Treaty 8 territory, into the forests of northwestern Alberta and the homeland of the Dene Tha’. Exploring campsites, Damkjar went with a group of Elders to places where they had lived as young people. “You could see the remains of their camp from the early half of the twentieth century, but right at the same site, there were prehistoric tools there, as well. So people had lived there for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. For them, and for us, it was quite exciting.”
That bridge between past and present is just one of the reasons why preserving prehistoric archaeology is so important. Archaeological historic resources, Damkjar reminds us, are nonrenewable—once they are destroyed, they are gone forever. However, when a historic resource is successfully avoided by proponents of development, and hence preserved, Damkjar points out that “you’re leaving the information that could be learned in the ground.”
The decisions that the Archaeological Survey Section makes are sometimes a leap of faith, says Damkjar. It’s not guaranteed that a protected site won’t be impacted, someday, by human activity; it is also not guaranteed that someone, eventually, will unlock the wealth of information that a protected sites holds for us. These are the challenges of planning for the future, notes Damkjar, but in the context of knowing that nonrenewable archaeological resources will continue to be threatened by development, the Province’s responsibility is to do what it can to protect them.
Did you know that one of the largest ecological catastrophes in Alberta’s human history was a volcanic ash fall? Around 7600 years ago the skies were blackened for many days and the prairies of Alberta were blanketed with roughly 15 cm of ash ejected during the Mazama eruption.
To create awareness of this event and other important moments in Alberta’s past, a team from the Historic Resources Management Branch, the University of Alberta, and the Royal Alberta Museum initiated a project called the Heritage Art Series. The goal is to captivate public audiences with artwork that creatively explores ancient landscapes, relationships between people and their surroundings, and the enduring physical record of human activities. We hope the series inspires a desire to learn more about our province’s heritage and that a greater awareness of the past will instill a deeper respect for it. We’ll release the first four paintings in the series over the coming weeks with explanations about the significant events and figures that each scene depicts.
The first painting (above) by Karen Bishop captures a surreal landscape of Southern Alberta as it would have looked 7600 years ago during the Mazama volcanic eruption. While the volcano that erupted was in Oregon (at modern day Crater Lake), it only took about 12 hours for some of the estimated 100 km³ of ash to reach Alberta. The ash smothered plants, contaminated fresh water, and would have filled animals’ lungs. Airborne particles would have caused intense lightning storms. Huge swaths of dead vegetation combined with frequent lightning led to widespread fires.
This map shows the spread of Mazama ash into Alberta. The inset depicts the depth of Mazama ash relative to people and dogs.This figure depicts how deeply Edmonton and Calgary would be buried if all of the ash from the Mazama eruption were confined to the city limits.
By studying micro-organisms and microscopic silica particles in soils and lake beds, scientists, including a team of ‘tephrochronologists’ led by Dr. Duane Froese from the University of Alberta, are learning more about the ecological impact and timing of volcanic eruptions in Western Canada. Climatic systems were altered by the relatively dense ash ejected into the atmosphere, the pH of soils and water bodies changed, and mobile animals like bison likely abandoned their territories for lack of fodder and/or drinking water. However, while the impact was widespread, preserved pollen suggests that plant communities rebounded rapidly. Overall, landscapes may have recovered fairly quickly from volcanic eruptions (on the scale of 2-10 years), but the effect on human populations was likely more pronounced.
The archaeological record reveals that portions of the province were abandoned for several decades and possibly much longer. Notable changes in weapons and raw materials that were used for stone tools around the time of the Mazama eruption may be linked to this ecological catastrophe; the people that returned to once-vacated landscapes were either different from their predecessors or they arrived with new ideas acquired from their neighbours. This, and other large-scale eruptions in North America over the past 10 000 years, changed the direction of local human histories. New cultures, technologies, and social networks emerged after volcanic events.
Despite the dramatic nature of volcanic eruptions, few people realize that Alberta has experienced them in the past and that other ecological catastrophes have influenced the development of Alberta’s past cultures. Palaeoenvironmental scientists and archaeologists have learned a great deal about past ecological events that, while educational, have more profound implications for the way we manage ecosystems and respond to the world around us. By studying the past, we can learn how to brace for the future.
To learn more about the Mazama eruption and other palaeoenvironmental studies in Alberta, visit some of Dr. Alwynne Beaudoin’s research at the Royal Alberta Museum.
Stay tuned for the next installation of the Heritage Art Series, which will discuss the archaeological and historical records of First Nations fishing in Northern Alberta.
Written by: Todd Kristensen, Northern Archaeologist & Alwynne Beaudoin, Royal Alberta Museum.
Back in the 1970s and 80s, the Archaeological Survey of Alberta published a highly-regarded series of occasional papers, known affectionately in archaeological circles as the “Blue Series,” for its characteristic cover colour.
Occasional Paper No. 1, published in 1976.
Robin Woywitka, Cultural Land Use Analyst with the Historic Resources Management Branch commented on how this rich collection of literature has become a coveted resource, with well-worn copies sought after by professional archaeologists and others interested in the field.
Woywitka observed, “The two series were established in the 1970s and 1980s to help disseminate the results of archaeological work conducted in the Province. Thirty five Occasional Paper volumes and 17 Manuscript Series volumes were issued from 1976-1994. These volumes cover the entire breadth of human history in Alberta, from the late glacial to the recent past, and from the Great Plains to the Rocky Mountains into the Parkland and Boreal Forest.”
It’s now online!
As it turns out, the series is not just a relic of the past, but has stood the test of time. Now, by popular demand, the whole series is available online free for download! Jared Majeski, Heritage Division Web Assistant, collaborated with Woywitka to see the project through to completion. Many avid archaeologists have requested this, and those requests have been heard.
Robin Woywitka, Cultural Land Use Analyst, and Jared Majeski, Heritage Division Web Assistant, proudly display a copy of one of the Occasional Paper series, now online.
In addition, the series is being revived! New contributions to the Occasional Paper series are welcome. The new series will focus on the annual review style volumes that were a hallmark of the original Occasional Papers. Please consider submitting a manuscript on topics of Alberta archaeology (submission guidelines are here). The deadline for submissions for the 2014 annual review volume is January 31, 2015. Ideas for edited thematic volumes that stretch beyond the confines of Alberta are also welcome.
Written by: Matthew Francis, Manager, Municipal Heritage Services.
The word ‘Okotoks’ translates from the Blackfoot language as ‘Big Rock.’ The name was given by the resident indigenous people to a very large boulder that is known as a glacial erratic – boulders that have been moved from their original location by glacial ice. Okotoks is by far the largest erratic in Alberta; it is about the size of a two-story house and is estimated to weigh nearly seven million kilograms. The Big Rock is a well-known landmark in southern Alberta. It is a designated provincial historic resource owned by the Government of Alberta, and is accessible to the public by means of a hiking trail, signage and a parking lot. What is not well-known is that the Okotoks Big Rock has a great deal of Aboriginal rock art painted on its surfaces.
Okotoks Big Rock Erratic
Rock art includes pictographs (paintings) made with a red paint composed of iron-rich hematite (red ochre). The existence of a few red ochre images on the Big Rock has been known for decades, but the revolution in digital photography and image enhancement has brought to light a whole lot more art on the Okotoks erratic than previously known. Specifically, we now know that some areas of the rocks were extensively rubbed with red ochre. Since these red areas lack definable rock art figures like humans and animals, it was long believed that the red blotches were simply part of the rocks’ natural colour. Through enhancement we can now pick out hand prints and finger swipes, telling us these red blotches were indeed made by human beings.
Rock art at Okotoks Big RockPhoto-enhanced areas of red ochre smeared on Okotoks Erratic. Note hand prints at top.
All rock art sites are sacred to Native people; rock art represents communication between human beings and the spirit world. Blackfoot people still visit the Okotoks site, conduct ceremonies, and hold the site in great reverence. Thus, it is all the more sad and frustrating that the Okotoks erratic has been subjected to extensive and increasingly frequent bouts of vandalism. As the site is operated by the province and is open to the public, there comes a point where some action needs to be taken. It is an eyesore, an embarrassment and severely disrespectful to the Blackfoot beliefs about the sacred character of the rock. But what can be done with a massive rock surface covered with graffiti that underneath lies fragile, precious painted pictures that tell stories of ancient Aboriginal people?
In the past few years, serious incidences of graffiti were washed off the rock face using a high pressure water sprayer. More recently, an environmentally friendly paint stripper had been used with good success. But critical to any graffiti removal has been potential impact to underlying rock art. We realized that we could never properly manage the site until we had a high-quality “map” of the rocks that plots the complex rock structure and the locations of all the rock art images. We realized that the best way to make a physical record of the Big Rock was to record it in 3D using a portable laser scanner. While documentation won’t stop vandalism at Okotoks, it will make us much better prepared to deal with future instances in a way that protects significant historical resources.
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A partnership with the internationally respected organization CyArk was formed. CyArk is a nonprofit organization dedicated to digital recording and preservation of the world’s most significant sites. Among their credits are 3D recordings of the statues of Easter Island, Pompeii, ancient Thebes, and Mt. Rushmore. CyArk also digitally stores the 3D information for each site, serving as a world archive of heritage data. CyArk retained a local service provider to assist with the equipment and expertise to conduct the laser scanning. In early October 2013 the entire external surface of the Okotoks Big Rock, including the tops of the rocks and some internal crevices, was scanned during two days of field work. The result is a strikingly accurate rendering of the Okotoks erratic in both its geometric shape and the plotting of all known rock art images. The project also resulted in production of an accurate 1:200 scale model of the Rock that will be useful for planning and educational purposes.
3D rendering of point cloud data from laser scan at Okotoks with enhanced photography overlaid. Red areas are red ochre paint; note square-bodied human figure at upper left.
In addition to the rendering and scale model, the project also raised awareness about negative impacts associated with graffiti and heightening understanding of the value and importance of historic resources to the community. Further Alberta Culture now has a sophisticated tool to use for site management.
Alireza Farrokhi holding 1:200 scale model of the Big Rock
Sadly, the rocks have already been subjected to more graffiti in the months since our project ended; however, we now have accurate information on the type and location of rock art that will assist in graffiti removal efforts. There are other threats to the cultural and natural significance of the Okotoks erratic. It has long been a favoured place for climbers, subdivisions are rapidly encroaching on the site, and public visitation is increasing. There are many challenges ahead in the long-term management of the Big Rock, but thanks to the careful recording conducted through Innovation Program funding we have a solid baseline of information about this very special place that will guide future management.
Written by: Jack Brink, Curator, Royal Alberta Museum and Alireza Farrokhi, Head of Conservation and Construction Services, Historic Places Stewardship
Plane wrecks are unique and dramatic physical records of human movement. We document here the archaeology and history of a 1952 B-17 plane crash to help illustrate the deep and fascinating roots of northern aviation. We reconstructed mission details from accident reports and discovered interesting connections to the famous Northwest Staging Route, which was a significant transportation network that spanned Alberta.
Scale of the SB-17G and the 8 crew members on the ill-fated 1952 flight (diagram T. Kristensen).
On July 11, 1952, a modified B-17 (an SB-17G) set out from Alaska on a search mission in the Yukon to locate a crashed Royal Canadian Air Force plane that had disappeared in June. The B-17 was originally a Second World War era high altitude bomber, legendary for the damage it could endure in combat. Its durability, combined with the availability of surplus aircraft after the war, meant that B-17s were used for many post-war activities including weather survey, forest firefighting, and search and rescue.
Mountainous terrain in which the SB-17G met its untimely fate (photo T. Kristensen).
Eight crew members of the United States Air Force 10th Air Rescue Squadron were aboard the SB-17G as it entered a small mountain valley. The navigator was unfamiliar with local topography and 15 seconds into the valley, the crew began adjusting power in an attempt to avoid a fast approaching valley wall. Because of its original purpose in high altitude flight, the SB-17G was not particularly maneuverable and couldn’t recover from its predicament. Stalling within meters of the ground, the left wing struck an alpine slope sending the aircraft into an arching skid path that tore through birch trees and bedrock cobbles for several hundred meters before coming to rest. The wreck was quickly consumed by flames. Five men evacuated immediately but the remaining three caught fire in their frantic attempts to depart. An heroic lieutenant escaped the wreck and pulled one man to safety while another emerged from the wreck engulfed in flames. Although he was immediately doused, the airman couldn’t recover from severe burns and died six hours later. The crew spent a somber night in the cold mountains before being rescued the next day.
Northwest Staging Route in Canada and Alaska. Yukon Archives. Department of Defence Collection, 91/37 #51, PHO 419.
The story of the SB-17G crash represents a small but significant piece of aviation history. Northern aviation assumed an international importance with the growth of the Northwest Staging Route in the 1930s. The Canadian portion began in Edmonton and linked a series of northern airstrips up to Alaska and Russia. Like Edmonton, most towns along the route were initially First Nations gathering spots that developed into fur trade posts when traders arrived. They eventually grew into agricultural, mining, forestry, or oil and gas centres. The Alaska Highway was built to connect these centres to help protect North America from a potential Pacific attack. After the war, the Northwest Staging Route remained important for military exercises (which drew the SB-17G to the Yukon) and as a transportation route to other international conflicts.
Reconstructed flight path of the SB-17G to its final resting spot (photo T. Kristensen).
Given their experience on the land, First Nations people were hired as guides to help survey the Alaska Highway before construction. Consequently, much of the highway followed First Nations trails that existed for millennia. Other portions followed Gold Rush trails that started to criss-cross the north in the late 1800s. This synopsis illustrates how modern transportation systems in the north have deep histories. The interconnected travel network that now links northern towns has witnessed birchbark canoe paddlers, moccasins, Gold Rush wagons, tank treads, and jet streams.
SB-17G (S/N 44-83722) used in the US Military Air Rescue Service (photo credit 060526-F-1234S-009.jpg, National Museum of the US Air Force).B-17G-50-VE (S/N 44-8167) during in-flight high altitude bomb drop in WWII (photo credit 050610-F-1234P-011.jpg, National Museum of the US Air Force).B-17F flying fortress formation in WWII (photo credit 050615-F-1234P-006.jpg, National Museum of the US Air Force).SB-17G propeller and engine (photo T. Kristensen).SB-17G gear wheel (photo T. Kristensen).Charred measurement tags from SB-17G (photo T. Kristensen).Canister from SB-17G (photo T. Kristensen).Wreckage of the SB-17G overlooking the valley it was unable to climb (photo T. Kristensen).
Territorial and provincial heritage legislation exists to preserve the remains of historic events like the SB-17G plane crash. A research permit is required to excavate any historic resource be it a 2 million year old fossil, a 2000 year old fishing camp, or a Second World War era aircraft. Historic objects are not permitted to leave the territories or provinces unless authorized by respective governments, which means artifacts can’t be re-located without permission. This legislation has created some conflicts in the past between heritage managers and people interested in salvaging plane wrecks but positive relationships and advance communication can help ensure that aviation historians and archaeologists work together to share their passion for the past. The story of the SB-17G crash highlights the military importance of the north and the historical depth of human movement.
Written by: Todd Kristensen, Northern Archaeologist & Mike Donnelly, Archaeologist.
Darryl Bereziuk, Director of the Archaeological Survey, speaks with consultants and students after presenting at a meeting.
Darryl Bereziuk is relatively new as Director of the Archaeological Survey of the Historic Resources Management Branch—he is just coming up on his first full year in the role. He is no stranger to the branch, however. Prior to becoming Director, he was the Northern Regional Archaeologist for the Archaeological Survey. “So I still worked in this organization, for about eight years. So, you know, I’ve come up through the ranks, so to speak,” Darryl says.
The Archaeological Survey Section preserves, studies, interprets, and promotes Alberta’s archaeological resources. Much of Darryl’s job involves overseeing several management systems that have been put in place to protect and mitigate threats to archaeological resources in the province.
The “Heart” of the Archeological Survey
The first (and fundamental) system is the Alberta Archaeological Site Inventory—what Darryl calls “the heart” of the Archaeological Survey. The section maintains an inventory of more than 40,000 archaeological sites of diverse types: tipi rings, rock art sites, stone feature such as medicine wheels, and quarry sites where First Nations people obtained stone for making tools. Such resources are fragile and easily destroyed by resource extraction and other types of development—and Alberta is a very busy place for that, Darryl notes. The up-to-date inventory helps the Archaeological Survey to fulfill a main part of its mandate: to protect significant archaeological sites that we know about.
Various industries must submit their development plans for review as part of the Historical Resources Act (HRA) Regulatory Approval System. If it is considered likely that a development will impact archaeological sites, then a requirement might be issued to conduct an Historic Resources Impact Assessment (HRIA). These field studies serve to identify and assess the significance of archaeological resources before they are impacted by ground disturbance activities.
What are Historic Resources Impact Assessments?
HRIAs are aimed at examining how potential impacts to significant sites can be avoided or mitigated. The consultants, in Darryl’s words, “examine the potential conflict between archaeological resources and a project’s footprint, and then forward recommendations, on behalf of the industry, for avoidance or mitigation. The Archaeological Survey considers the consultant’s findings and issues a final recommendation.” The final recommendation from the Archaeological Survey might be that there are no further concerns arising from the study, and that development may proceed. Or, the Archaeological Survey might recommend either that the site be avoided entirely, or that industry conduct archaeological excavations of a portion of the site to compensate—with the knowledge gained from the excavation—for destroying the remaining portions. “These sorts of mitigation activities happen on a very regular basis,” Darryl explains. Darryl was a private archaeological consultant himself for about fifteen years prior to joining the government, helping industry clients to fulfill the requirements issued by the section he now directs —the Archaeological Survey. “That knowledge and experience has really served me well in this position,” Darryl remarks.
Obtaining Permits
Before undertaking any survey or excavation, an archaeologist must come to the Archaeological Survey for official permission to do the work, triggering the second major management process that the section oversees: the Archaeological Research Permit Management System. “It’s not necessarily the materials in the archaeological site that are important,” Darryl explains. Instead, it is usually the “association of how the materials are distributed across the site that allows you to get at the important information”—that is, what the site has to tell us about past human behaviour or activities. It takes special training to excavate sites to see this larger pattern, and because the act of excavation is destructive in and of itself, the Historical Resources Act requires that anyone conducting an archaeological investigation have a valid permit. Permit holders must have “the appropriate educational training and experience to ensure that the destructive activities that they will be conducting will lead to really good information about that site—and that the information content of the site won’t be inadvertently lost,” says Darryl.
Despite the solid foundation of these regulatory management processes, the Archaeological Survey Section faces a number of challenges. First, as Darryl puts it, “we have very limited capacity and yet we want to save as many archaeological sites as possible.” The job is complicated by the fact that “we have to protect the [sites] we know about as well as the ones we don’t yet know about.”
In order to make a recommendation that an assessment is needed in light of a proposed development, the Archaeological Survey has to demonstrate that there is a “very high likelihood” that archaeological resources will be impacted. However, archaeologists have surveyed only a small portion of the province and detailed information about site location is sparse for some areas. Accordingly, “we’re always looking at ways to become more sophisticated in making these recommendations” when it comes archaeological sites that are unrecorded, but that undoubtedly hold a wealth of information about the province’s history. The section’s answer to this challenge is to draw on new technologies.
Using Technology
The Archaeological Survey had already been using Geographic Information Systems (GIS) to regulate development near known archaeological sites, but has now started using this technology to create predictive models that gauge archaeological resource sensitivity across the vast unsurveyed portions of Alberta. Another new technology—LiDAR (Light Detection And Ranging), a method of remote laser scanning—is providing detailed digital elevations models that help to better pinpoint potentially sensitive landforms.
Another challenge is for the section’s archaeologists to conduct research of their own, on top of their regulatory work, since “part of our mandate is also to promote the appreciation of archaeological resources in Alberta.” The archaeologists engage in much public outreach to share their research, from writing magazine articles to giving talks at schools to participating in professional conferences.
Darryl and colleagues have been excavating—little by little, at the rate of three to four square metres per year—a site called Hummingbird Creek, located on the front range of the Rocky Mountains west of Rocky Mountain House. “It’s an amazing archaeological site,” Darryl enthuses, “that has super-imposed occupations—six, in fact—that extend back to 2,450 years ago. It represents the kind of multistratified site that allows archaeologists to really look at cultural change in the precontact period.”
Other archaeologists in the section are working on sites in the Oilsands region. Another has been visiting local collectors in Grande Prairie, mostly farmers who over the years have gathered hundreds of very significant artefacts from their lands. He photographs these artefacts or borrows them so that they can be analysed. This is a great project, states Darryl, that gives the Archaeological Survey a better idea of the character of archaeological sites in a region where large-scale farming operations have disturbed the significant majority of sites. Through engagement with local collectors, the Archaeological Survey can also educate them about the Historical Resources Act and other public outreach initiatives.
Responding to Disasters – Flooding
The last challenge mentioned by Darryl, like the other two, also provides an opportunity. The 2013 flood in southern Alberta destroyed homes and infrastructure, but Darryl states that “a lot of people don’t realize that…archaeological and paleontological sites were severely impacted by the flood,” as well. Archaeological sites tend to be concentrated near major river valleys because these watercourses were vital to precontact lifeways, Darryl explains. The Historic Resources Management Branch recently received $3 million to conduct exploratory surveys of the major flood-affected rivers in the Calgary region: the Bow River and its tributaries, the Elbow, Highwood, and Sheep Rivers. This project will take up much of the section’s “time and capacity” over the next two years, Darryl says. Some of the sites may have been completely destroyed, and the inventory of archaeological sites needs to be updated accordingly.
But the flood also created a unique opportunity, as it has also exposed new sites not previously observed by archaeologists. Bison bone beds that were kill sites for these animals have been left “just basically sticking out—[they are] very highly visible in some cases,” says Darryl. These sites along the river are vulnerable not only to natural erosion, as unstable cutbanks are reclaimed by the river, but also to collecting by the general public. “We’re racing against time to identify and preserve these sites,” says Darryl. “We will try to protect them from future flooding, and if that’s not feasible we may excavate the most vulnerable portions of those [sites] to ensure that we have that information before the next flood takes it away.” The Archaeological Survey Section, accustomed to meeting challenges, is doing what it takes to get this work done.
There are few animals in the north whose history is so intricately interwoven with people than the beaver. From the early fur trade to modern environmentalism, the beaver has chewed its way into numerous facets of life in Alberta. Paleontology, archaeology, history, and modern politics combine to tell an amazing story of human-beaver relationships in the province.
The earliest beavers lumbered into the province over five million years ago. By two million years ago, the modern beaver (Castor canadensis) was living alongside a colossal cousin that was five to six times larger (Figure 1). The giant beaver (C. ohioensis) weighed up to 160 kilogram and was just under 3 metres long. It went extinct around 10 000 years ago. First Nations’ stories tell of the beaver’s role in creating the world by molding the primordial mud into an island fit for humans. To Alberta’s first people, beavers also furnished important materials for tools, clothing, and food. Archaeology sites across the province have yielded beaver bones where very few other animal remains were found. This indicates that beavers were crucial to human diet, particularly during winter. Beavers were captured with willow bark nets, stone-tipped spears, and sinew snares set along beaver trails and canals.
Three major anatomical traits made the beaver important to various cultures in Alberta through history. Beavers stay warm with large fat deposits and very dense, barbed hair. The former trait explained why beavers were important winter foods while the latter trait fueled the fur trade that shaped our nation. The third important trait is durable teeth that enable beaver’s incessant chewing. When it came time to design wood working tools, prehistoric people enlisted the beaver’s dental assistance. Ancient engravers and chisels were made of beaver teeth lashed to a wooden handle. Beaver tooth engravers were common in the toolbox of early northern people and provide a unique glimpse in to the ingenuity of First Nations.
Figure 4: Beaver hat fashions during the fur trade (by Terry Pamplin and Todd Kristensen).
The strong, oily, and barbed under-hairs of beaver were ideal for making superb quality felt hats that were popular from the late 1500s-1800s (Figure 4). Prior to European contact there were likely over 10 million beaver in Canada. These vast numbers were an economic ‘boon’ for Europeans, but the abundance was short-lived. Beaver populations were reduced by as much as 95% in two centuries. As each new fur trade post was established on Alberta’s lakes and rivers, a zone of beaver depletion rapidly radiated outwards until local numbers dwindled and the traders moved on. Fur trade competition decreased in the 1820s and areas of the Canadian northwest were managed more judiciously so that beaver populations recovered and future crashes were prevented. Despite lower populations, hundreds of thousands of beaver pelts and over 10 tons of castoreum (a highly fragrant secretion produced in beaver castor sacs) were shipped out of the Athabasca and Saskatchewan River Districts in the early 1800s.
Biologists like Dr. Glynnis Hood of the University of Alberta, are researching the ecological impact of the fur trade and modern beaver dams. They’ve found that beavers drastically alter local water levels as well as wetland biodiversity, fire regimes, floods, carbon sequestering, and the filtering of local toxins. Dr. Hood’s research explores how knowledge of the beavers’ aquatic engineering can inform land management decisions. The esteemed human-like propensity for industrious labour earned the beaver the honour of our national animal and it may become a tool to mitigate future climatic oscillations (e.g., droughts and floods). Beaver teeth, winter fat, and dense fur represent biological adaptations that early Albertans exploited to suit their needs; dam building may be the latest trait that Albertans utilize in their ever evolving relationship with beavers.
Written by: Todd Kristensen, Northern Archaeologist & Heinz Pyszczyk, Archaeologist.
UPDATE:Nature Alberta will publish an expanded version of this article in their quarterly magazine. In fact, “On the Deep Roots of Beaver and Human Relationships in Alberta” is the feature article in the Winter 2014 edition of Nature Alberta Magazine. Congratulations Todd and Heiz. –Michael Thome, editor.
Here are a few more images that illustrate ideas from the article:
This post continues our look at the work of Alberta’s Archaeological Survey. Previously, we explored “10, 000 years of hunting in Alberta“, as shown in the archaeological record. While RETROactive will continue to be your source for news and information about Alberta’s historic places, we are branching out to provide insights into other aspects of our work to understand, protect and conserve historic resources.
The chronological spread of the domestic horse into Alberta over the last 500 years.
When horses galloped across what would become the US border onto Alberta’s rolling prairies in the 1720s, it was a bit of an overdue homecoming. It had been roughly 10,000 years since the province’s expansive grasslands shuddered under hard equestrian hooves. Fossils indicate that North America is the original home of the horse where it first appeared millions of years ago.
Ancient spear from Alberta that was coated in blood of the now-extinct Mexican horse.
The now-extinct Mexican horse (Equus conversidens) ventured well north into Alberta’s tundra meadows and onto the menu of Alberta’s first humans. Ancient residues of horse blood were found on stone spear tips used over 10,000 years ago in southern Alberta. Fossil horse bones have also been found near Grande Prairie, Taber, Cochrane, and in the Edmonton area. Around 10 millennia ago, the horse mysteriously disappeared. When the horse returned with the Spanish 500 years ago it assumed a central role among Indigenous and European cultures in the West. The story of the horse in Alberta is a fascinating ride through the province’s heritage.
Once groups like the Blackfoot and Assiniboine mastered horseback riding, the horse occupied just about every dimension of life on the Plains. The new hooved pets created new hunting strategies, they changed the way people moved across the prairies, and they altered the dynamics of Plains warfare but reconstructing when and how the domestic horse spread into Alberta has been tricky. Historic records offer only a handful of references to horse adoption by Indigenous people but a unique piece of heritage offers fleeting and beautiful glimpses of how the horse changed the West. Writing-on-Stone Provincial Park in southern Alberta houses one of the largest collections of rock art in North America. For over a thousand years Indigenous people carved and painted their stories on the sandstone hoodoos and canyon walls and the horse looms large in those depictions.
This carving (‘petroglyph’) from Writing-on-Stone depicts a domestic horse in a buffalo hunt.
Horse carvings depict a wide variety of events and beliefs including battle scenes, hunting expeditions, and tallies of horses acquired through trading or raiding. In everyday life, some horses replaced the dog as beasts of burden while other horses were highly revered as ‘buffalo runners’, prized for being long-winded and intelligent while overcoming an 800 pound buffalo. For buffalo hunters who needed both hands free for their weapons, a well trained horse was a matter of survival.
A painting by George Catlin from the 1800s of life on the Canadian Plains (reproduced with permission from the Bruce Peel Special Collections Library, University of Alberta).
The horse also quickly galloped into peoples’ social lives. Families that acquired many horses gained prestige and respect. Horse raiding became a mark of courage for many groups and horses were traded for a multitude of things including European goods, food, membership into societies, and spiritual power. During the fur trade while slick beaver furs were motivating European economic interests in northern Alberta, horses, guns, and buffalo meat were becoming entwined in complex trade networks that would shape the history of the prairies. When the buffalo eventually vanished, the hooves of the horse pounded on.
This combat scene from Writing-on-Stone shows an early horse draped with body armour (photograph reproduced with permission from Michal Klassen).
The unique collection of rock art at Writing-on-Stone is a provincial treasure that captures pivotal centuries of modern Plains cultures. For this reason, the area is both a Provincial Historic Resource and a National Historic Site. Writing-on-Stone is still a sacred place to the Blackfoot people; a place where spirits dwell among the sculpted bedrock. Visitors are encouraged to learn the story of this powerful place. One of the many benefits of the stony archive of art on the Milk River is that it can be enjoyed and appreciated under blue skies.
Morning light on the beautiful hoodoos at Writing-on-Stone (photograph reproduced with permission from Robert Berdan).
What better way to learn how the horse changed the west than from reading the walls of Writing-on-Stone while cool breezes blow in hints of sage and a red-tailed hawk reads over your shoulder? Site protection combined with a healthy respect for Blackfoot traditions and the archaeological record will ensure that the history of the old West will endure and the story of the horse will ride on.
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