Once Upon A Time - Stories from the Delta

How the Mosquito

began eating Man

1/3/06

by Raphael Jimmie of Mountain Village as told to Moses Ayagalria

Countless ages ago in a land that was fairer than the day, out came our hero The Moosehunter. He’d just shot a young two year old bull moose and of course he was happy! He was all by his lonesome and just as soon as he’d finished butchering, he commenced to carry the meat down to the shoreline close to his boat piece by heavy piece!

His first trip down he’d been a hummin’ A Hunting We Will Go. As he arrived to his destination, he placed the leg of his catch, the ham roast, very carefully down just as soon as he prepared willow tree branches to set it down. He eyed his catch and satisfied, started back to get another piece.

This time as he was carrying another piece he hummed Long Gone Lonesome Blues. For some odd reason he didn’t feel alone as he was working. “What strange feeling,” he thought. He’d felt this feeling in the past but hadn’t pondered over it much because the outcomes varied in his lively past. But, it felt to him that he’d be carried off into another world! Some feeling he thought. He was almost feeling lost and edgy at best. One of those kind of feelings you’d think that you’d like to scold someone for something they did for doing or not doing what should or shouldn’t have been done.

Recognize that feeling? Of course you do. Bad feeling this one. But, of course when this feeling dawns upon you, you’d scold out loud even when you are alone even when you don’t want to. Kind of a strange force this one. But, for some odd reason you always feel better and lighter after you let it out of your system.

Sooner than he’d expected, he arrived at the shoreline again. But, alas! When he arrived he found that his treasure had been eaten by mosquitoes! Every bit of it was gone except the bones. So this is why he’d felt that strange odd feeling, he thought. So out of the wild blue yonder he started scolding into the wind, “That doggone SKEETER should’ve eaten me instead of my ham roast!” He scolded out loud!

When he was finished, he turned around to get another piece. Just as he did he saw this giant SKEETER before him! Then all he heard was a loud “SLURP.” He realized that he’d been consumed by an intelligent design of evolution! From this point on the great bug became addicted to sucking human blood.

This gets you to think that our planet scientists may soon come up with some sort of vaccine to ward off the pest for good! Soon we may go to the clinic in that season and get that “anti-bug” shot for the season?

White Lightning

11/1/05

by Moses Ayagalria

There once lived this little orphan boy who was taken in by his relatives who lived up north on an island. One day he decided to go out to the ocean on an early spring morning when the birds arrived. As usual, he went all by his lonesome self for he didn’t have a father. His stepfather did help him, aside of all his chores. He did train him as much as time allowed.

So, on a very nice day like this one day, he decided to stroll out to the ocean walking on its ice. He was hunting for birds for they had just arrived. He hadn’t gone too far from the shoreline when the ice started to crack right under his feet. He jumped away from the crack but the part of the ice he was standing on quickly separated from the shore ice forming a lead between him and the shoreline. It suddenly appeared that he was being carried away from his village on that ice floe. He was alone. What could he do? He didn’t even have a qayaq.

On this fine day, the nukalpiaq of the village did happen to be around the vicinity and had caught a glimpse of what was happening to that boy. Being out of sight of that poor helpless boy he decided to watch that little young man. He watched him intensively for he thought to save him if this situation got out of hand. He watched that ice floe that boy was on drift away from the shoreline fast. A wide lead between that boy and shore ice formed and it seemed for certain that boy would drift away.

As the village nukalpiaq watched that boy. That boy walked to the edge of that ice floe keeping a tab of the shoreline that he was drifting away from. The boy seemed to get ready to swim across. But, to the surprise of the nukalpiaq, the boy hurriedly walked back to the other edge of the ice floe away from the shoreline. As the man watched that boy started to run from the other edge of the floe away from the shore.

“Now what is he doing?” thought the man. But, before he could blink his eyes as that boy reached the edge of that ice floe he made a jump. A jump so high that he looked as if he were flying! He started going down before he hit the shoreline. When he landed on the water, he made a big splash.

“I will save that boy if he can’t make it to shore,” that man thought quickly. For just ahead of that boy was that shore ice that loomed 20 feet in the air. “Surely that boy can’t make it. I will save him,” thought the man as he watched that action. Before the flying water could settle back onto the water he did witness that boy pop out of that deep water and flew up to the top of that shore ice! That man was stunned but he went back to the village and he never mentioned what he had witnessed.

Days passed in the village and he never heard any news about what he saw but he now knew the super ability of that young boy in the village. Years even flew by before he heard any news of that young boy’s feat.

Then this nukalpiaq took ill this one fine season and the whole village suffered and worried for if they didn’t have the services of the village nukalpiaq, they would starve and be defeated by their enemy who lived on the mainland. Their enemy from the mainland would come to kill them and take their tools back from previous conflicts that this island village had claimed. Their enemy did learn of their misfortune and were glad now that they didn’t have a great chief. An attack now was imminent. The enemy would come to destroy them.

Their ill chief called in the whole village from his deathbed and he told them about their new chief who was quicker and just stronger that he – the boy. The people didn’t believe him because that young boy he referred to looked too small and scrawny.

Time passed. Then one day the village lookout ran down from that hill where the “crow’s nest” was. In the vicinity there had been built a cache that held some of the village’s food supply. This vantage point overlooks the smooth shore that was used as the village’s “port”, the place where all incoming/outgoing takes place. The lookout informed his village that the enemy was on its way!

The warriors called in their scrawny chief and briefed him in on their dangerous situation. Then scrawny chief talked to them to get a sense of control over his warriors. Much to their surprise, Scrawny drew out a plan methodically. He ordered his warriors to bring in their arms. Bows, arrows, spears, spear catapults and everything they could use as a weapon were brought to the lookout point.

Chief Scrawny instructed them to place weapons at the entrance of that cache that was elevated off the ground. Then he also instructed them to place more weapons on the ground some distance away from the cache. All this was visible so their enemy could see action when they arrive.

Soon the enemy arrived armed to the teeth as expected. They were huge muscular people each in their own qayaq. Chief Scrawny and his warriors sized ‘em up and they felt a bit nervous but they stayed cool. They had to, because their whole village was at stake. If they lost this war, their whole village would be lost.

None other than Chief Scrawny made the first move. When he made his move, he jumped to the front of that cache that seemingly was out of reach for a jump that high but he made that jump. When he landed, he held a bow and arrow ready to shoot. His second move was that he jumped off the cache and landed where the other weapons were placed. Again, when he landed he had a weapon in his hand ready to fire! This went on for a while for each move that Scrawny made, that move happened quicker than the previous one! Their enemy’s eyes became glued to this action! They were awed because their jaws were dropped as they watched Scrawny with that lightning speed!

Just a little while into this show a crow, yes a raven, came flying by some distance above them at about 40mph. When Scrawny saw it, he shot at it and hit it from that distance! He hit that raven two more times with the same arrow before it hit the ground! At his last shot, everyone stood and gave him a tremendous applause. Even the enemy joined in the applause!

When he was finished, the enemy huddled on the ground below Chief Scrawny and his warriors. When they came out of their huddle, their chief asked to talk to Scrawny. At the moment, the enemy called out a truce. They agreed to lay down their arms and bring their food supplies as instructed by Chief Scrawny.

They had a feast right there at the lookout. Everyone was happy and there was food and dance in order! In that ceremony, they renamed Chief Scrawny. His new name became WHITE LIGHTNING because he wore a white feather on his head at this feast. A fitting name for him.

Some stories of

our first contacts

by Moses Ayagalria

Some of our beloved first contacts were missionaries or their helpers. But lo and behold, they had to be taught our cultural “know-how” so they can live and enjoy their time here. We shared with them our culture so that they could become good hunters and gatherers just like us.

The time was berry picking time and it was an opportune time for one of our dear trepidatious first contacts to learn this fine day. Actually, this plan was in the works well ahead of time before it was put into action. The teacher was a well seasoned local man who was an “expert” in all sorts of edible plants gathering. He had learned just enough to communicate in English and he did communicate well with the newcomers in their language.

His student caught on quickly and was an eager pupil. He wore thick lenses for the poor soul was nearsighted. So he had to be watched very closely in their outings. He was a curious one and asked a lot of questions. Of course, his teacher did answer his questions to the best of his ability. So any help he wanted, he got.

So the time was ripe now for them to go out into the field and put forth their best effort in this trip. All was prepared and their lunch, which was lovingly selected just for this purpose was carefully loaded into their craft that had a capacity to accommodate everybody.

This fine day all were in good spirits in their preparing to go out on this special trip. It would be a good learning experience for this new pupil. Everyone expected an excellent time on this trip.

Among the lunch items were ham sandwiches, milk, coffee and juice all carefully selected by the First Contacts. They were made with the consumer in mind. This fine lunch would help get them into the positive and productive as it is the main purpose of this outing. Such is the target for the preparers to put them in a positive and productive mood. The more merrier the mood, the more productive this outing would be.

They arrived to their destination, which was a lovely sight with a hill and a ridge that lined the blue sky. It seemed like there should have been a sight location name for such an awesome, colorful, beautiful place. It didn’t have a name but it soon would have one in due time.

History is made sometimes with such outings as this trip. When it will happen, time alone tells what’s in store for the parties involved.

When they arrived, they started to unload their goodies and lit the campfire for cooking pork chops and made coffee, which the First Contacts brought. In the meanwhile, one of the local guys started to show the place to one of our dear visitors. As they stood at the ridge of that hill, the visitor adventurer squinted along that ridge. When he stopped squinting he looked at his leader with a puzzled look on his face. He turned to his guide and asked, “Is that a fire along the ridge of the hill?”

The guide looked in that same direction as his pupil was squinting. Sure enough, the sight he asked about did look like there was a fire along the ridge. This coupled with the direction of the sun made it to look just like there was a fire there. The guide chuckled in return, “What you are seeing there are those lovely flowers that bloom only at this time of the year. We do have a name for these lovely flowers in our language, so from this point on let’s call them ‘FIREWEED’.” Thus, the flowers were dubbed ‘Fireweed’.

Meanwhile they decided to sit and enjoy the scenery of Fireweed Ridge. While there, they couldn’t help but smell pork chops cooking coming from the campfire because they were located on the leeside of the breeze. They stood up, stretched and declared, “Let’s go have lunch!”

Once on their feet they decided to have one last glance of their new FIREWEED RIDGE. Lo and behold, they saw a great big black bear standing at the landing of the ridge sniffing. The bear did smell the cooking too and decided to look for its source.

The two adventurers sensing danger ran to warn the rest of their party. Just as they arrived at their camp, all eyes turned in their direction. Just behind them was the monster, everyone started to run to their boat. They barely made it just as the bear arrived.

As they floated away in safety, they watched that beast devour their prized lunch. When they settled in their home that night they did live to tell their story to their families. Their storyteller referred to that place as PORK CHOP HILL in front of FIREWEED RIDGE.

Aanaka-llii

ner’aqa-llii

by Moses Ayagalria

A long time ago in a frozen land far, far away lived these young newlyweds. They lived in this village surrounded by a great forest along a very wide, deep river. This was forest country where these people created main trails and by-paths through the great forest. They called these trails aprulluk, which refers to these trails.

This was caribou country! One had to know how to navigate in this country because these trails were like a maze, a puzzle that is.

But, of course these mazes were especially marked by their users and these marks were taught to their young hunters who were able to read these marks. Consequently, anyone who’d never used these trails could easily get lost in the mazes.

Since the newlyweds were soon longing to have a child they sadly found out that the young wife was unable biologically to bear and have a child. Thus, at the suggestion of their parents the young couple consulted the great shaman in their village.

The young couple soon found themselves at the great shaman doctor’s office. The great doctor assessed their situation. When he was finished he said, “I certainly can arrange to have your wife become pregnant via my special ability to do this. But, you must not be afraid to show off your baby after its birth.”

The young couple happily agreed to this and were soon home to let their folks know. That following winter that baby was born to its mother. Consequently, this very act was the first probable artificial insemination of that sort aside from cloning. Thus, dominant science quite recently proved that this could be done in a successful manner.

So, once again our native forefathers were among the first to introduce such a feat.

All this done, the young mother, nevertheless, kept her baby out of sight despite the great shaman’s instructions. This ordeal of the young mother hiding her baby from sight was a beginning of an omen of the sort. An omen is a portend that serves as a warning that something good or bad is about to occur.

One evening when all were in bed, the mother of this young mother was awakened by loud slurping and crunching noise coming from behind the makeshift partition of woven grass where the young mother kept her baby hidden from sight.

The mother of the young mother got up to investigate. She peeked through the grass partition by opening it a small crack. Alas and behold! She witnessed a head of a human with razor-sharp teeth with a torso of a crawling insect. That monster was eating its mother. It had already eaten one side of her breast. The poor spectator was immediately trapped into great shock! She froze in great fear and confusion and she could not move!

In that state of fear and confusion all her perception of time stopped for her eyes became glued to that horrendous monster consuming its mother.

Because that monster’s great slurping and crackling noises were becoming loud, that lady’s husband was also awakened.

He rose and peeked through the small cracks. That thing was now eating its mother’s intestines. His wife was gaping motionless and fast frozen to that awful sight.

The man, sensing an emergent situation, moved himself rapidly to contain this difficult ordeal. He placed his strong hand over his wife’s agape mouth for he knew that she’d scream when she’d realize full awareness. This done, he carried her off outside and to their nearest neighbor without being noticed by that monster.

Once there, they consulted their great shaman who instructed the village’s fast runners to awaken the whole village. They must abandon the village or be eaten by that monster!

This done they all left their village in the cold moonlit night led by the two young nukalpiaqs of the village. Those two led their followers.

Just after they’d arrive at the first junction of the maze path one of the men notified one of their leaders that he’d left his most prized possession, a knife, in his rush to leave. Two of their fastest runners were assigned to fetch the knife while others went on their way to hide from that teethy monster.

When the two arrived at the village they waited and watched every movement of that monster. After they located and timed his movements they made theirs. It didn’t take them very long to accomplish their feat. This done they ran after their people to lead them where to go and hide.

Once there, the two nukalpiaqs stopped everyone and they had a very brief meeting. With this, a brief plan was made and the two nukalpiaqs led them into their “double-loop” trick trail.

This tricky maneuver movement led their followers into the maze where the follower loses the trail. They figured this’d work for that monster too since it had never been there. This loop perfectly misled the monster and caused it to lose their trail.

In the meantime, the villagers could hear that monster calling “Aanaka-llii ner’aqa-llii” from a seemingly nearby place. But they were on the constant move safely away from it.

When daylight came that noise faded away and the fast runners investigated the whereabouts of that thing. They found it frozen to death not far from the village.

To this very day some hunters could hear that things voice, “Aanaka-llii ner’aqallii” when something good or bad is going to be experienced by those people who had heard that things voice. The good news is that it warns one ahead of time before it happens so that person will know what to expect. The bad news is pending bad news that may occur in the near future.

Meqsuk and the Loon

by Moses Ayagalria

Meqsuk and his grandma lived alone at their camp. He was a young nukalpiaq and he provided food for the both of them by hunting. He used his bow and arrow with the skill of Robin Hood and he could gracefully handle his qayaq.

He was a fine hunter for he had extremely good vision, hearing and all that was needed to make an excellent hunter. He was an excellent hunter!

His grandmother depended heavily on this young man because she was getting gold and weak. But she still could take care of all his hunting catch with his help. So, by helping and with hands-on experience, Meqsuk did learn how to take care of his subsistence catch. Thus, his grandma was grateful for al his good help. How or what would she do without him? The both of them worked as a team so they did get along very well. Everything worked out good for them.

Then one day after he got up Meqsuk started to clean out the ashes from the fireplace. He carefully placed the ashes in a container and covered it so that the ashes wouldn’t blow out when he went out to dump it.

“Be very careful when you go out because the wind’s blowing hard,” warned his grandma.

So out he came and sure enough, the wind was in action. The wind blew hard and it screeched and whistled at Meqsuk as if to greet him a “good morning”. Some greeting huh?

Just as Meqsuk stepped out with that full container of ashes, he slipped and the ashes blew right into his face and I got into his eyes! He dropped the container and tried to clean himself up but the ashes badly fogged his good vision. So he groped his way back into their house.

When he came into their house, he told his grandmother about the freak accident that just happened. His grandma asked him to sit by her. She assessed the situation. She was not happy about it and neither was Meqsuk.

From this point on, poor Meqsuk lost his good vision and couldn’t go out to hunt for food anymore. Neither of them relished this grave situation. Thus, afraid of this terrible plight, it filled their souls with a certain terror. What will they eat? This was the immediate question. A great wave of horror and fear swept over each of them in their quiet way. Neither of them mentioned their awful plight but they did pray for hope in their own way. They asked Ellam Yua (Man of the Universe), for his help.

The time was just after break-up at their camp when this happened. Meqsuk’s grandma foraged whatever she could gather from near camp. This she did well but both of them soon realized that the nukalpiaq services were sorely missed. Good nutrition was needed to keep them healthy. Meqsuk longed to go hunting in his beloved outdoors. Each day he’d ask his grandma to take him outside to enjoy the early spring sun and to listen to the birds sing. Oh, how he missed his outings.

Then one day when his grandma went away to check her muskrat traps, he heard a great loon from a nearby lake calling him. Meqsuk listened and his listening skills perked up.

“Meqsuk, come to the side of this lake and talk to me,” called the great diving bird.

“How can I? I cannot see!” Meqsuk answered.

“Never you mind. Just listen and I shall guide you,” persisted the loon.

“Show me the way,” poor, blind Meqsuk responded. His voice trailed off in his shame for he couldn’t see.

The great diving loon did guide him to come. So when he came to the shoreline, the great diving bird was happy to see him.

“Meqsuk, you poor boy! I can help you see again,” the great loon offered the blind young man.

“How can you do that?” asked Meqsuk.

“Now listen to me very carefully and I can help you see again.” The loon began to give instructions to Meqsuk.

“Are you ready?” asked the loon.

“Yes, yes!” responded Meqsuk excitedly.

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do boy,” began the great loon. “Hop on my back and we shall dive deep in this lake. Whatever you do, you must hang on tight and hold your breath. Are you ready boy?”

“Yes, yes!” Meqsuk said.

So the loon dove down deep into the lake water with Meqsuk hanging on to him piggyback. Just when Meqsuk was signaling for air, the loon surfaced. When they surfaced, the loon asked, “Can you see now?”

Meqsuk opened his eyes then he said, “I can see, but not very good.”

“Well, let’s make another dive,” the great loon said.

Once more they dove deeper and a big longer. The poor boy almost lost his dear grip but barely made it.

“How’s your vision?” the great loon wanted to know when they surfaced again.

“A little better than the first time,” Meqsuk answered.

“Okay, let’s dive in once more, but remember, you must hang on, okay?” the loon said.

“Okay,” the young man responded.

So once again they went under the lake water much deeper than the first two times. Poor Meqsuk’s lungs were so exhausted that he barely made it this time.

“Pffft,” went Meqsuk when they surfaced.

“Can you see now?” the great loon wanted to honestly know.

“Let me catch my breath first, then I’ll let you know,” Meqsuk said. In the meantime, Meqsuk caught his breath with his eyes closed.

“Open your eyes now,” the great loon instructed Meqsuk.

The young man slowly opened his eyes after he dried them off. Sure enough, when he did open his eyes he could surely see again! He was excited!

“I can see again!” he exclaimed to the loon. “You restored my hunting vision!”

Meqsuk thanked the great loon and off he ran home to see his poor, worried grandmother.

“Where have you been, Meqsuk?” asked his grandma in clear confusion.

“Grandma, the great loon in that lake restored my vision. I can see again!” replied Meqsuk in great delight! He was happy and so was his grandma!

The both of them celebrated with a feast after Meqsuk went hunting. They had both been in full command of their frightful plight through the pain of Meqsuk’s blindness.

The old lady with

long fingernails

by Moses Ayagalria

This one is torn from the pages of our history’s storybook.

It so happened that this family was enjoying berry-picking season at their camp. Somewhere near their camp was the ocean for they could smell the ocean air. Their camp was located along the confluence of two rivers, one which was very swift and deep, and if anyone accidentally fell in, that’d be the end of that person no matter how strong or good of a swimmer that person is. The river eventually flowed out to the nearby ocean. This family and others had to be very careful when they camped there.

Eventually this family had built a cabin there for the camp was used for several purposes. So this family had just came on this trip for berries and this fine day they’d decided to go back to their village for they’d just picked enough berries.

Everybody was busy getting ready to go back to the village. They packed their things and loaded up their boat. They were one happy family!

In the meanwhile, this young man decides to take a quick trip to eat fresh ripe berries off their stems. But just before he left, his father warned him not to wander off too far because they were almost ready to sail. The boy promised he’d return very soon and away he left with a big smile on his jubilant young face. He was so happy that he may as well have hummed the tune of “Ode to Billie Joe” as he gladly jaunted off into the tundra thinking about those fresh berries!

His mouth began to water just thinking about them berries for he was beginning to feel like having lunch anyway. His mother had been cooking all morning but no one had touched a single bit since they were so busy getting ready to go HOME sweet HOME!

Everything went smoothly for this young fellow until he came upon a sod house. It seemed that this sod house just appeared out of nowhere. At least he’d never seen it before. So just out of curiosity, he entered this sod house.

“Who is in this house?” he wondered. Alas and behold an old lady sat on her woven grass seat weaving a long piece of rope out of sinew. His curiosity answered, he almost panicked but somehow he kept his cool!

This old woman had gray hair and her skin matched her hair color and she had long razor sharp fingernails. This is what he saw when he entered.

“Come in, sit down and I shall give you a bowl of soup,” she offered.

So he sits down and sure enough, she gave him a bowl of soup. A hot bowl of soup! He was famished. Just as he stirred his soup, he saw a whole human hand in his soup. Not just a finger! His stomach did a somersault and he again had to reach for his cool. He barely hung in there because all of a sudden that hungry feeling went away and he almost vomited but he controlled himself well. He kept his calm! He must’ve fooled that old lady with the razor sharp fingernails.

“This monster’s a cannibal,” he thought.

“What’s the matter boy?” she asked.

“Ham bone?” She is a cannibal and a scavenger he thought! “She’d make soup out of me before I escape.”

His mind raced ahead of his actions. He had to think of something quick. Very quick indeed or else he’d become a ham bone. His whole body shuddered but she didn’t notice it for he hid his feelings well.

“I must go outside to go to the bathroom,” he lied.

“Well, if you must go, you have to go. But before you do I shall tie this rope around your waist so you don’t run off, dear.” She tied that long rope and he went out her door.

Once outside, he saw a small bush nearby and he tiptoed to that bush very carefully and he found that rope was just barely enough for that reach. He tied that end of her rope to the bush. But before he ran, he told the bush to tell that old lady that he hadn’t peed yet.

With that little instruction to that bush, he ran off with all his might, heart and soul! He could feel his heart almost pop out of his mouth as he ran and ran. And just in no time, he was far away from that mud house of that old lady with razor sharp fingernails. Or so, he thought.

In the meantime, the old lady became restless so she called the young lad. Or so she thought.

“I haven’t peed,” came the answer when she called. This happened several times.

When she became suspicious she pulled/jerked on that rope and just as she did this in came the bush flying at the other end of her rope.

“Humph, a talking bush?” she thought aloud to herself!

“Humph, fooled you, huh?” the bush said.

She jumped out of her sod house seething and cursing at that young lad for escaping from her. “No one escapes from me!” she said to the bush.

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re mad, old lady!” the bush teased her. To this she became a whirlwind and she took chase to find that nice, fat young lad. She would make a “tasty dinner” out of that young lad, thought the old lady with the long sharp fingernails.

Meanwhile that young lad had barely reached their camp but his folks were gone for that day. They’d left him to come back for him later thinking that he’d be all right.

When he arrived, he looked around thinking about what to do next. His mind drew a blank because he knew that monstrous old lady was chasing him. It’d be only a matter of time before she arrived to eat him alive!

“What a morbid thought,” he thought.

Sure enough, when he turned his head he saw what looked like a tornado. That thing was on her way to get him. She was making eerie, weird noises out of her shriveled mouth with her red tongue hanging out of her mouth. Everything in her way was flying first as if both a tornado and a great lawn mower were cutting grass. What a dreadful sight. He’d be consumed and shredded if he didn’t think of something fast.

He moved fast to the bank of that swift river. He thought of jumping in to swim across but his better self didn’t let him. So just when that monster was getting very close, the lad dug in his pocket and he found that old tinderbox that his grandma gave him before she passed on.

“When you’re in danger, look inside this tinderbox.” She’d instructed him and this called for him to do just that. When he opened the tinderbox, all he found was a small piece of charcoal. He took that and threw it in that swift river. Alas, when that charcoal landed in that swift water, a floating charcoal bridge appeared on that swift river. He didn’t trust that bridge but he ran across it just as that monster arrived.

When he reached the other bank of that swift river, he looked back. That old lady swore she’d get that lad. She got on that bridge but just as she reached the middle of that river that charcoal bridge collapsed washing away that monster lady with long sharp fingernails.

Some people say that she’d become a mother king crab in the ocean. At about that same time, the boy’s father arrived to get him. His father barely missed all that action. That old lady with long fingernails never had a lick o’chance.

A great avalanche

by Moses Ayagalria

During the course of the cold winter, we do experience these “midwinter thaws”. What happens when they occur is that the piles of snow that had accumulated on the rooftops of buildings and homes slide off when the “warm spree” comes. Some do cause avalanches in the mountains.

In fact, there is a story that one of our people perished in such as avalanche sometime ago in history. Sounds scary? You bet it is dangerous and scary to wander near those high rise mountains. Thus, we learned and were warned by our elders not to go to close to those mountains when we were hunting around.

It has been not very long ago that one of our children did witness such an incident near the school grounds in my village. Among his peers our son is one of those kind that can relate an experience with dynamic humor and action. What a kid!

One day as he came home he related what he saw after school. Apparently, when his day at the school was over, they were playing on the school grounds. Well, our sort of elderly, imported teacher came home. When she came to her front door, she dug in her purse and she was also carrying other paperwork and stuff. She had her hands full. So just as she’d found her keys, she bent to find the keyhole at her arctic entry. Then all of a sudden a big pile of snow fell into her arms and she shrieked, “Yow!” Her students guffawed and laughed at her and she told ‘em off in great anger. The arctic entry way is slanted toward the door!

The hawk and the mouse

by Moses Ayagalria

Mini was a medium sized mouse and she did not pack a lot of weight. This compact size made her extra quick and fast. She could dart from one place to another so fast that she’d just be a blur when she moved. She could dodge the sharp talons of the quickest hawk if she became the hunted. She took pride in herself. She once bragged that she could “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee”. Does that ring a bell? She was quick!

One day as she got up, she shampooed her hair before she left her house to dig for mouse food in the field. She did this to “wake” herself up so she could be sharp and fast this fine day.

“It’s going to be a long, hard working day,” she thought to herself. So when she was finished with her hair, she decided to just dump that shampoo water just outside of her house. Just as she stepped out of the threshold of her entrance, she suddenly heard something that went “SWOOSH!”

Before she knew it, she realized and was shocked that she was being locked tight in the talons of her dreaded enemy the hawk! The hawk was high in the air and her insides were tied in knots – for she was acrophobic!

The last thing she remembered was when she looked down, then she fainted. The next thing she realized was that she was lying down on the soft tundra surprisingly just near her home! But the hawk was watching her close – very close – for she was going to be the hawk’s next tasty snack!

The hawk eyed her and poked her little body with his sharp claws.

“This one’s nice and fat. I’ll just wait until it gels and then I shall eat it!” said the hawk to himself out loud.

When Mini heard that she shuddered for she was playing possum now. In the meantime, she laid there as still as she could with all her might and soul. For if she moved or budged, she’d be eaten alive by that hawk!

Now that hawk was humming a tune, waiting for his snack to gel. Every now and then he’d poke her ribs with his sharp talon to see if she had gelled yet.

“This thing’s not ready yet because it’s so fat. It’ll take a while to gel,” the hawk said out loud to himself. “I’ll wait a little while longer.”

“Drats,” thought Mini. “I wish this hawk would fall asleep or something.”

It had become midday by now and the sun’s warmth made that hawk very drowsy and sleepy. Yes, very drowsy and sleepy that hawk became. So sleepy from the warmth of the springtime sun that his head began to nod when he closed his monstrous hawk eyes.

Mini became almost tense when she noticed the hawk was getting sleepy. She watched for that nodding head chance! She did watch very, very close without the hawk noticing that she was watching him

Suddenly she jumped up and started running into her mouse hole! Whew! She barely made it for Mister Hawk had made an effort to grab her with his razor sharp talons! He did miss her by a mere nanosecond, although he had managed to chop her ears off and part of her long tail.

“Drats,” Mister Hawk swore up and down! He was boiling, angry, seething mad! Then he poked his head into Mini’s mouse hole to make an effort to bite her but he didn’t make it because he got stuck by his wings. Mister Hawk opened his hawk eyes when he’d stick his head into Mini’s mouse hole.

“Eek, a mouse!” he said and he took off. Mister Hawk felt the agony of defeat as he glided high up into the empty sky. He felt like he got stung. Mister Hawk then remembered that Mini could “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee”! Mister Hawk then accepted his agony of defeat.

How’re yawl?

by Moses Ayagalria

In the springtime, things come to life on our side of the country. The lively spirit of the students comes to life as well and as the weather lets up from the dreary cold short days. This does happen to the rest of the villagers as well. All activity comes to life and everyone seems happy and become a little more verbal. Believe me!

The sub zero weather along with its by products and short days do affect all performance of the villagers. It does get DREARY and this is why the approach of the spring weather brings change. Not only warmer weather but it brings smiles and more conversation as well among friends and neighbors and our dear little students.

It has been a while since I witnessed this event. It happened years ago while I worked as teacher in my home village. We had a good variety of teachers and some of them were imported in from “yawl” know where. These teachers come from the continental southern USA. Very nice people and colorful. Their southern drawl is infectious. Once yawl (you all) here ‘em talk, then you pick it up right then and there. It is fun to hear when someone yawl don’t expect to talk that way. Hear me?

One fine spring afternoon as I made a routine trip to the office, I usually walk by this classroom, which is that southern teacher’s class.

Some students who are promising leaders among themselves not only pretend to mimic other leaders but they can mimic their ways of communicating. So by about that time as I passed this classroom one of our dear such students walks up to face the rest of her class and announces, “Okay yawl, it is now time to neaten up!” I could hear that she was mimicking their teacher. This heavy southern accent has to be heard said rather than read to be enjoyed! See yawl in the next story!

The championship game

by Moses Ayagalria

It is the end of the basketball season and this host village is preparing for the big game! This grand finale promises to be exiting, fast, mean and lean! It is going to be a thriller for the fans and the whole village! It is going to be a crowd pleaser! This will be it - the big one!

Early on in this season, both of these village teams had clashed. Whenever they met, they drew a crowd and left a mark, a mark distinguished all in its own with a power all its own.

Both of the villages’ fans walk out after the games either stunned or overflowing with joy. But, the fans for both teams would be satisfied with their teams’ excellent performances. The losing team would go down with style, fighting to the last play!

Such is the trademark of these games. These performances would satisfy the fans! Their fans got their money’s worth of action. Good, hard, exciting action that leaves the crowd on its feet. Cheering, stomping, and just standing on their feet!

So just before the game the principal checks out everything in the gym that needs to be checked. Before the crowd comes he checks the bathrooms, helps set up the concessions stand, and makes sure everyone’s manning their stations.

All is set to go and the game is underway! The home crowd stands and cheers for their home team when they came on! They cheered, yelled and stomped their feet on the bleachers. What a crowd!

Shortly afterwards the time came when the host principal needed to be consulted. Everyone who needed him looked high and low but there was no principal. What happened to him? His staff was sure that he would never (ever) miss this game! Not for a minute or even a second in his life! So they looked and looked but no sign of him anywhere! Where was he? Maybe he’d gone home because he became ill. No one found out that evening.

Then came Monday morning and there was still no principal! All his staff reported to work on time including the maintenance person and his custodian. So by custom, the latter two staff made their first stop in the mechanical room of the school which is their foremost of responsibilities of all. It is where the maintenance person has to first check the furnace and his friend the custodian comes with him to get his tools to get ready for the day.

When the maintenance man opened the furnace room door, out comes the PRINCIPAL! When he came out he did not say a word. All that came out of his angry face and eyes were darts, sharp as needles! He was fuming! As he stomped out he might as well have stomped on those two staff and flattened them!

What happened? The doors of the furnace room were installed with safety one way latches. When an unsuspecting individual walks in, the safety door behind them locks automatically and there is no way to get back out unless you have the key. So our principal was locked in for the whole weekend until his staff came to open the door…

Ye Olde School Days

by Moses Ayagalria

Each school year brings on many fond memories when I see children going or returning from school. I do remember some of my teachers. Some were homebodies and others were honestly interested in our people and our culture. They showed me they were humane and caring thereby showing us how to be responsible even at that early age.

The homebodies were those types who were hardly seen in the village. They were always at home including the weekends and they just stayed home. Personally, I didn’t learn much from those kinds. To me they were of a mysterious sort and did not relate very well to us students.

However, the other type who were “honestly interested” were those who were there with you. Those kinds even came out at recess time to play with us. They were everywhere and they participated in the rest of the village activities try as they may. They taught us and we shared our culture. These kinds were easy to get along with and to learn from. They were “good at everything” from our vantage point.

Time passed. Years later I started a conversation with one of this type who gets along with everyone, even little kids. I was the one who related a comical experience. He listened with glee and responded as well. After I was finished with my story, the ice was broken. And we began sharing our tales.

His story began.

“This is about one of those homebody types,” he said. “It is about this teacher who came from another state and it was his very first winter in one of the large villages.”

Not long ago people in their villages used the “outhouse” and “honey buckets”. (It is unfortunate that this situation still exists in some villages. Third world status - not very humorous! Who is responsible to change all this?)

“It is wintertime and to be specific, it is the Slaaviq season and school is out for Christmas vacation. The situation? This new comer lives alone and it is he who dumps his own honey bucket regularly. Everything works okay until snowfall comes. Problems come with the snow. Cold is here for one thing, another is to bundle up when one leaves the house to do chores, which gives one a difficult time of maneuvering oneself in those bundles of warm clothing. It is difficult to move gracefully and the snow-covered ground becomes slippery to walk on to top this off.

“Our hero bundles up in an all brand-new outfit, which includes a new goose down parka, bunny boots, gloves and a new fur cap! This entire new bundle is a Christmas gift from the folks “outside”. Expensive gifts!

This school has a maintenance person who is a local person who checks all the school buildings including teacher housing to make sure all is in good working order. He does a good job with great care and is observant of the school grounds!

“Many times this staff teacher would come to visit the maintenance worker just to chat and have coffee or tea. During one of these visits, the maintenance person was jubilant and starts to tell a good story.

‘This morning when I checked the school building I found this awful mess at the back entrance of the new teacher’s house,’ he began. ‘Apparently our new teacher was doing a chore of taking out his full honey bucket. He had come down the very slippery snow covered stairs!’

“What he found at the landing of the slippery stairs was the new teacher’s new clothes along with the spilled honey bucket. The new teacher had spilled his honey bucket. He had slipped on the stairs and when he fell, the honey bucket had landed on top of him.

“What did he do? He took off all his expensive new gifts along with the honey bucket and just left the mess there!”

The Moose Hunt

by Moses Ayagalria

Each fall is the time for the big game hunt. It is moose season! The big game hunter has been trained by tradition in our culture. The training is done by taking the future big game hunter out to the beautiful moose country!

Moose country is awesome and is instantly addictive. The hunter becomes addicted to the country on his very first trip. The sheer beauty of the country addicts him, whether the hunt is successful or not. The sheer experience is exhilarating! Once that experience has set in, the hunter anticipates the moose season with a longing to go out into the country and camp. Just the trip by itself unwinds the hunter from the hustle and bustle of home. When this feeling calls, the hunter prepares for the trip well ahead of the actual outing.

The preparation begins by the hunters choosing to find each other. When this preparation is established, these hunters will rely on each other at the moose camp once the big hunt is on! The preparation is actually a year round ongoing experience. The hunters pick up pointers and locations from the elders who have heavy knowledge of the country. The successful partners share tips and clues. So when the time comes, the successful partners agree to go to that location.

Did you know that luck plays an important role in the hunt? Believe it or not, luck does play an important part. The hunters must be there at the right time and place in order for their “luck” to happen! So much for the lucky hunters.

While there are lucky hunters, there are also accident prone and clumsy hunters. These kinds do exist among the great hunters and they do leave their mark. Such marks leave an aura and light moments during the actual outing where the hunters share those old hunting yarns, which were passed on from generation to generation. These small tales bring on joy, entertainment and the most important ingredient – friendship, and of course laughter, the best medicine.

In the final preparation for the trip, the hunters check their list to make sure that there will be enough provisions and all equipment is in good working order including rifles and last but not least, the iron machine (outboard) gas and oil.

So just about at this time of the year, one of our hunters just happens to check his white fish net a few days before the actual trip. This is one of those mishap type guys you see. He goes in his “check net” boat, which is made for that purpose - not too big and light, especially for berry picking and going in and out of those “tight” spots. Yes, one of those light boats that you equip with a small outboard. It so happens that his motor is one of those hard-to-start kinds that you pull several times to start.

Our hero is on his way that early morning to check his net. Along the way, he sees a moose swimming across the slough. A surge of excitement hits him and makes his hair stand on end! WOW! A two year old with small antlers!

“This is the opportune time for me to practice my lassoing skills I learned while reindeering,” thought the hunter.

That fateful morning he did not bring his rifle so he stopped his boat at lassoing distance, grabbed the rope and caught that moose by its antlers on the first try! Some more excitement electrified his body. He tied the rope snugly in his boat so he could start his motor and drag the large animal to drown it.

This whole scene looked perfectly possible to do this trick for he had actually seen it done when his friend took him out some seasons ago. When he was ready, he started to pull start his motor. But alas and behold it suddenly dawned on him that his doggone motor was difficult to start once stopped. Nevertheless, he tried to start it by pull after sweaty pull.

By a stroke of luck, if you may, one of his friends came along to find him standing on the beach waving and yelling for help. When his friend stopped to investigate, he found that his boat had been dragged by the moose in the tree line where the moose broke the rope and left our hero high and dry!

In our culture, it is advised that we take certain precautions to hunt with your partner to avoid mishaps and not to play jokes or pranks while out in the beautiful country and to clean up the campsites when done. Remember, we are only visiting Mother Nature who provides for us. Good luck in your hunting!

Once Upon A Time
Stories from the Delta

The Game

by Moses Ayagalria

Many years ago, the 4th of July celebrations were held in the general location where Swanson’s Marina is currently located. There were many games. There were foot races for all ages, even for toddlers who crawled and they were awarded toys.

I vaguely remembered this bingo game sponsored by the VFW. The prize? A whopping $10,041 smackers! Wow! The winner probably and easily wiped out all their debts! It is too bad that I wasn’t of age that time. But what I saw as a witness and a bystander was a game of all games! To this very day I have never seen one quite like it and I probably will never see one ever again. Never ever again!

First of all, there was a crowd as always. There were lots of people mulling around and anxiously waiting for the “Big Game”! The players were psyching themselves and whether they knew it or not, the signs were noticeable. Some were nervous and others jumpy and just plain shaky. Their ears were perked as to when the game would start.

Then I started to notice that a flat bed truck was parked in the close vicinity of the game. The flat bed had a makeshift board made out of a 4x8 plywood, which was propped up and it was covered with bingo cards. To top this off, there were two men who were dabbing the numbers as each number was called. I figured that they would split the pot when they won. It looked like a sure bet and a winning combo no doubt about it!

As each number was called, both men would go at dabbing the numbers. They were overwhelmed if you ask me. For certain, they would be overwhelmed because there were just too many cards for the both of those men. But, they were determined as they were quick and sharp as razor blades, believe me!

This game was the whole activity that closed the celebration until next year.

Then it came. Just when the caller made his call someone yelled BINGO! This was when one of the men in the flat bed truck jumped high into the air and did a double somersault and when he landed he threw his dabber down and stomped at the same time, swearing and cursing so loud that you probably could have heard him from the next village.

I was so sure that he did this because he won, but I was wrong. This man was seething! He was so angry because they didn’t win the pot.

As I found out later a lady from another village who had bought but only one card won! So you see, you only need one card and extreme luck to win! Better yet, do not play because this kind of addiction is vicious. Good luck!

Today when someone yells “Bingo!” all must not curse loudly. I wonder why??

Moses Ayagalria is a resident of Bethel.

The Story of Oggie,

the Shaman

8/27/03

by Moses Ayagalria

This is one of many stories about the early Alaskan Gold Rush days. In those early times the distance between the towns and the villages was far because there were no telephones, radios, television, snowmachines, power-boats, or airplanes. It took time to travel between villages. Locally, runners delivered messages between houses and nearby villages. There were times when the families never saw each other until after the annual spring break-up. Families would then go together to other villages in their boats. There were not very many boats but certain families had access to them and men used kayaks and canoes to navigate between villages.

Time was always against them when they traveled between villages and while subsistence activities were in progress. People sometimes said, "wished the darkness didn't come so soon," or "wish we didn't waste time for that meal," and the list goes on…

Sometimes the hunter had his snacks in flight. They had their snacks while they were traveling, hunting and doing chores, which means that they didn't waste precious time stopping just to eat. When they met in their villages after a long winter they would exchange news about the latest happenings that took place the prior winter. There was news that the villagers shared about what happened in each of their villages during the winter.

Time came when a message came to this great shaman, "Oggie" who lived in a tundra village. His feats were widespread throughout this district and beyond. He was well-known because he had helped many families with great amount of success. Many neighboring villages hired him in time of need. He was called upon from villages near and far. This great shaman was that good. If you were in deep trouble you would consider hiring him. But his services were expensive, like any lawyer, doctor or other professional.

Oggie was hired at a commissioner's inquest into a possible murder at a gold miner's village. Commissioners were the law enforcement personnel for the federal government at that time in Alaska's rich history before it became a state. The commissioner's power at that time was to prosecute all village infractions that were reported by the village's authorities. The commissioner was the judge, jury and prosecutor.

When Oggie reported to that village's commissioner, he was briefed in on the circumstantial evidence of that case in question. Oggie's first request was to have an interpreter. He was provided with the best interpreter of that village. Oggie tested the interpreter by asking several questions and when his satisfaction was fulfilled, they went to work.

Some of Oggie's requests were: That there be no hunting by all hunters of that village that day when he went to work to look for the missing man. All villagers must stay at home and meditate while he is searching; That there be no gossip passed between villagers; and finally, the commissioner must find a private place so that he could be all by himself and that no one must visit him during the time he was in the village. The place must be locked from the outside and guarded twenty-four hours. The commissioner and his support staff must check on him after that time.

But, he made no promises that he would find the missing man in question.

The commissioner was kind enough to accept Oggie's terms. These were the requests that Oggie made because when a shaman does his work, he hypnotizes himself and his other being is transferred to an animal or other innocent being.

What Oggie said was, "Mr. Commissioner, I shall make no promises that I will find the missing person. But, here is what you must do after that twenty-four hour waiting period. You and your support staff must come to talk with me for further instructions. For now you must place me in a cabin and lock me in and place guards outside where no one must come near me."

And so it was done.

This was the shortest 24-hours that the commissioner and his staff ever experienced! He and his staff gathered together with the villagers and waited out the period. The villager's ritual in this time was observed. First there was a dance that was called by the chief of the village. At the dance ritual all experienced a sense of being transferred to another place. It could have very well been a different place because they thought that at one point they were riding in a ship on big waves the size of large mountains. When they felt that they were going, going and going down a big wave, their insides felt like they were being tickled. They screamed, screeched and hollered. After that wild experience, they got sick to their insides and they stumbled outside and threw up. Everyone looked at each other to inventory their strange behaviors and odd feelings. They all had become sea sick. What a wild experience! Some thought that Oggie was responsible. Maybe he was?

"Did you all feel like you were riding in a ship?" The chief asked the group. All answered "Yes" in their own way. "What a powerful experience," thought the commissioner.

Just to convince himself and the rest of his staff, he asked again, "Did you all feel like you were riding in a ship?" And again everyone seemed to understand the question and affirmed a "Yes" in their own way.

In a little while, the commissioner observed his timepiece and was surprised that it was already time to check with Oggie. The found themselves at the cabin where the great shaman Oggie was housed for that period. The commissioner and his staff, along with the village chief, appeared in front of Oggie. To their surprise Oggie asked, "Did everyone enjoy the short ride in that ship?"

When no one answered, Oggie said, "While you were riding in that ship last night the snow fell as you left. You all saw an inch of fresh snow when you walked here."

All was quiet when the commissioner asked, "Oggie, did you find out anything about the man we are seeking?" It seemed that everyone got tense, ready to strike and jump at Oggie.

But Oggie relieved that tension and anger by saying, "Go to the cabin of that missing man now. You must go on foot. When you get there you will find a fox's track heading south of his cabin. Follow the tracks until you come upon a hill. There, the fox had dug to the base of the freshly fallen snow. Dig there and you will find your treasure."

With that, Oggie was asked to be transported back to his village by one of the host commissioner's staff with the best dog team in the whole village. No one questioned his request.

At the helm of the dog team was one of the commissioner's staff. Once they were out of sight, Oggie said, "Close your eyes and we will arrive in my village in no time." The driver did so without asking questions; he soon felt like they were landing. He opened his eyes, and to his surprise they were arriving at Oggie's village. The next thing that he realized was that he was getting ready to follow the rest of the staff with the commissioner in the lead. They soon found themselves at the cabin of the missing man. They searched for the fox tracks just as Oggie had suggested. They soon found themselves following the tracks. What a terrain it was! The tracks were almost impossible to follow because the terrain was rough and jagged, but they soon arrived to the hill.

At the foot of the hill they stopped to rest and meditate. The staff found themselves praying for help from their higher power to save them and to find the body of their fellow miner. From the vantage point of the search crew, the terrain itself was hard to attempt the hard, steep ascent of the climb.

So, the commissioner assigned two of his young able men to make the climb. The rest of the crew waited at the foot of that steep, cragged climb. They waited and waited. Then, out of nowhere appeared one of the crew who had made that steep climb. He blurted out a story that they had found the body of their fellow miner in a shallow grave. That body was mangled by the murderer! Just the sight of it made that young beholder vomit and shake in his boots. And he became almost speechless from the experience.

Back in the village, the couple that was hired by that miner confessed who did the awful crime so that they could have his gold and other belongings. Instead of receiving any award, they were executed by a firing squad.

That execution was a wonder in itself. The whole village witnessed it. The commissioner had imported an executioner from another state. The couple was standing with their eyes blind-folded on a revolving disc-like platform. The executioner had fashioned such a tool that when one lone bullet hit a planted bomb under that table, the two bodies disappeared without leaving a trace in the explosion. Not even a sign of the executed bodies remained!

The Man Who Got Killed by a Porcupine

7/2/03

by Aloysius Beezley

(Author's note: If you ask people what's the most dangerous animal in Alaska, they probably will say something like brown bear. But there are stories of people being hurt or killed by all different kinds of Alaska wildlife. Up in the Gweek River there's the grave of a man who they say was killed by a swan. There's the old story about another man who laid down inside a dead moose to warm up, got stuck inside, and froze to death. When we were kids, people used to warn us about the dangers of cranes pecking at our eyes. Some elders bear serious scars from muskrats and other animals caught in traps. Recently, a local hunter was nearly stabbed in the jugular vein by a wounded caribou. I myself was once clubbed in the head by a flying ptarmigan. So beware, any animal can be dangerous!)

Ak's tamaani (a long time ago) there was a man who went out hunting near his village right after freeze up. He walked along the trail through the woods behind the village. There was only a light covering of snow. The trail led to a series of long meadow lakes between the tundra and the forest. He went from lake to lake, observing all the different animal tracks criss-crossing the country.

From a distance, way down one long lake he could see the bright yellow wood high up in a birch tree that meant its bark had recently been gnawed away. Knowing what this meant, the man went towards the tree, watching its branches and occasionally scanning the ground beneath it. Before reaching the tree, he saw the strange looking trail in the snow. It looked almost like little human footprints with scratching/ dragging marks all around it as it wound through the brush. He followed the odd looking trail and in no time caught up to its maker – a big old porcupine, waddling along in search of a new tree to chew on.

The man looked around for two sticks. A long skinny one for a poker and a good heavy, solid one for a club.

Before the porcupine could reach another tree to climb, the man went to it with his two sticks. He used the skinny one to poke the porcupine in the head as it walked away from him. Doing this made the porcupine turn its tail toward the poker stick, exposing its head to the man. He quickly gave it a good club between the eyes. That was it for the porcupine. Picking it up by one front foot, he dragged the porcupine out from the brush onto the frozen lake. Now, he had a nice big porcupine (some get up to sixty pounds) for dinner, but he had to figure out how to get it home without getting poked by its quills.

After thinking for awhile, he decided to carry it home on his back. He had a piece of strong rawhide rope, which he cut in two equal lengths. He tied one end of each piece around the front wrists of the porcupine. Then, taking the two ropes in his hands, he carefully hoisted the porcupine onto his back. Next, he crossed the ropes over his chest and tied them snugly off to the ankles of the porcupine's back legs. It looked like this would work well and since he now had a big load, the man turned towards his village.

The early winter sun was already going down as he followed his trail home. But his porcupine packsack was just getting up. You see, the porcupine wasn't dead. It had only been knocked out. Porcupines are hard to kill by clubbing. Usually it takes several good hits to make sure they are dead.

Little by little the porcupine became aware of what was happening. It was tied down on a man's back! Terror shot through the animal. It had to get away!

The man continued to walk contentedly along.

The porcupine began to push against the man's back with its legs in an attempt to get free (Porcupines have very, very strong short legs for climbing trees). The pushing caused the ropes across the man's chest to suddenly get very tight. He couldn't breathe! Not realizing what was happening, panic gripped him. The porcupine sensed this and in turn, pushed harder in its own desperation to break free. The man soon passed out and fell to the ground. How long the porcupine continued to push against the ropes that held it before it finally quit struggling and chewed them off, nobody knows. But it was long enough that the man never got up again.

When he didn't return that night, men from the village went out at first light to search for him. They found him lying there and by the signs left in the light snow cover, began to piece together what had happened. They followed a set of porcupine tracks to a twisted old birch tree nearby. At the bottom of the tree were two chewed up pieces of rawhide rope. Way up in the high branches, a porcupine looked down at them.

Ak'a tamaani

(a long time ago)…

1/15/03

by Aloysius Beezley

(Freeze up time is also taluyaq (fish trap) time. This is another story told by the late Iftikum of Lower Kalskag. It explains how taluyaqs were first invented. The story takes place in the Kalskag area where the Yukon and Kuskokwim are close together. Other villages may have their own versions of how the taluyaq was invented , so please don't get offended.)

People would run out of food sometimes. Bad weather and low population cycles of fish and game wouldn't allow people to gather enough food to get them through the year. Late winter and early spring was the most critical time. Occasionally, starvation would creep along the River, taking a harsh toll upon the people.

In one small village (might have been a spring camp), somewhere in the Kalskag area, starvation had taken every one except for one young woman. She found herself all alone in the world but she knew that she had relatives over on the Yukon side somewhere, if she could get to them. Why she lived when the rest didn't was hard for her to understand. At the same time, it gave her a determination to try to live – for her family, her people. Even though she was near death herself, she made the decision to go in search of her relatives somewhere to the north along the Kwikpak. She left that place of death with nothing but the dimmest glimmer of strength. Would it be enough or would she take her last breath out in the tundra somewhere to become food for the foxes and ravens?

Every few steps required her to rest. For a while she leaned on a walking stick she had been using to help her along. But even that light stick became like a huge log to keep lifting and setting down. She abandoned it, staggering farther into the tundra. Once she brushed up against the branches of a small bush. It was like running into a wall and she fell. There in the moss were some of last year's red berries. One by one she put the precious berries in her mouth, cautiously sucking their juice. She knew that when one hasn't eaten in many days they have to take in food very gradually. She slept deeply seeing the faces of her lost loved ones in her dreams.

Much later she woke, not sure if she was alive or dead. She lay there staring up at the sky. Suddenly a flock of geese flew across the little patch of sky she had been watching. The birds were here! Life had finally come back to the tundra. If only they had come sooner, her people might have lived. Seeing the geese gave her new strength, even though she realized catching one would probably be impossible in her condition. She continued on her slow journey, pacing her steps to get the most out of the little bit of renewed spirit that was glowing within. It didn't take long for weakness to come back, though. She made her way across the Johnson River, stopping to drink from the runoff flowing on top the ice. She slept again in the warm afternoon sun on a birch-covered lump along the creek. In the evening she continued, pausing here and there to pick a few red berries or grab a handful of reindeer moss to help ease the pain of starvation's slow death.

She came upon a small creek running between two big lakes. It was the kind of creek that freezes late in the winter and opens early in the spring. It was only a few feet wide, but deep. She knew she didn't have the strength to jump across it or if she tried and fell in wouldn't be able to pull herself out. She would have to follow it to find an easier place to cross or go out on the still frozen lake way off in the distance to go around it. Either way, it would add much more to her journey. In the late evening light she made her way along the creek. She was very weak. It felt like she couldn't go any further. Maybe this is where she would die. " No, not here in the grass. There on that little tundra lump would be better," she thought. The last of her will power was used to reach the lump. There was dry grass all around the lump. As she tried to walk up the lump, the grasses knocked her down to her hands and knees. That's how weak she was. She crawled the last few feet before collapsing there on the lump along that little creek. Her face was only a few feet from the water. Before drifting off into what might be her eternal rest she saw a whitefish swimming slowly by. It seemed to pause a moment to look at her. " How nice it would be to catch and eat that whitefish ," was her last thought.

The young woman didn't die there along that lonely little creek. Instead, she slept deeply once again. And instead of dreaming about her loved ones a new dream came to her. In this dream the whitefish in the creek swam into some kind of trap made out of many long skinny pieces of wood bound to bent wooden circles. The front of the trap where the fish swam in was shaped in such away that the fish couldn't swim back out. What a good dream! A new way to catch fish! A way that could help her people avoid starvation.

She didn't know how long she slept and once again wasn't sure if she was still alive, but the dream about the fish trap was still vivid in her mind. Once she realized she was still alive, the young woman sat up and began to look around. "I have to make what I saw in my dream before it goes away."

There was a small clump of willows growing on one edge of her lump. She could use those to make the parts of the trap and their roots to bind it all together. She was feeling better but knew that it probably wouldn't last long. She went right to work gathering willows and roots. Some of the roots were too big. These she had to split down to a usable size with nothing more than her small stone ulaq, teeth and fingernails. She bent the hoops for the frame by holding branches in her teeth and working the ends towards each other. The ends she would lash together with willow roots. It took her all day feverishly working. Her strength held. She must have known that what she was doing would forever change the way her people fed themselves. By evening she had made the first taluyaq. It must have been rough looking compared to ones that would be built by the many generations to follow. You know the first time we make anything it's not that good. Each time we make something it gets better.

Anyway, she set it into the creek, added some sticks to keep it in place and block the sides, and she lay down to another deep sleep. This time there were no dreams about anything.

The next time she awoke, she didn't lay there wondering if she was alive. She knew she was and that the balance of life may be turning back towards her – if her taluyaq worked. Her heart was beating hard with life as she bent down to put her hands into the icy tea- colored water. A few days earlier she wouldn't have had the strength to pull anything out of a creek, but today she lifted that little fish trap carefully up, half dreading what might not be in it and excited for what it might hold.

The shiny, flopping shape of the whitefish brought tears to her eyes. Tears of joy because she would live and tears of sorrow because it came too late to help her people.

She stayed there for several days carefully eating little by little to allow her body to adjust to having real food again. At the same time she continued to catch more fish and dry them in preparation for continuing her journey.

Well into spring she left that historical place carrying her little taluyaq on her back. When ever she wanted fresh food she would set it in some little creek. She made improvements to it as her experience using it grew.

Eventually she found her relatives on the Yukon side. She taught them how to make and use taluyaqs. From there it spread all over.