Song of the River

by Sue Harrison

  CHIGDAX (Aleut) A waterproof, watertight parka made of sea lion or bear intestines, esophagus of seal or sea lion, or the tongue of a whale. The hood had a drawstring, and the sleeves were tied at the wrist for sea travel. These knee-length garments were often decorated with feathers and bits of colored esophagus.

  CHUHNUSIX (Aleut) Wild geranium, Geranium erianthum. (See Pharmacognosia.)

  CILT’OGHO (Ahtna Athabascan) A container hollowed out of birch and used to carry water.

  DAES (Ahtna Athabascan) Shallow, a shallow portion of a lake or stream.

  DATS’ENI (Ahtna Athabascan) Waterfowl.

  DZUUGGI (Ahtna Athabascan) A favored child who receives special training, especially in oral traditions, from infancy.

  GGUZAAKK (Koyukon Athabascan) A thrush, Hylocichla minima, H. ustulata and H. guttata. These birds sing an intricately beautiful song that the Koyukon people traditionally believe to indicate the presence of an unknown person or spirit.

  GHADEN (Ahtna Athabascan) Another person.

  HII (Aleut) An exclamation of surprise or disgust.

  IITIKAALUX (Atkan Aleut) Cow parsnip, wild celery, Heracleum lanatum. (See Pharmacognosia.)

  IQYAX(s.) (Aleut) A skin-covered, wooden-framed boat. A kayak.

  K’OS (Ahtna Athabascan) Cloud.

  KUKAX (Aleut) Grandmother.

  LIGIGE’ (Ahtna Athabascan) The soapberry or dog berry, Shepherdia canadensis. (See Pharmacognosia.)

  NAYUX (Aleut) A float made of a seal skin or seal bladder filled with air.

  QIGNAX (Aleut) Fire or light resulting from a fire.

  QUNG (Aleut) Hump, humpback.

  SAEL (Ahtna Athabascan) A container made of bark.

  SAX (Aleut) A long, hoodless parka made of feathered bird skins.

  SIXSIQAX (Aleut) Wormwood, Artemisia unalaskensis. (See Pharmacognosia.)

  SHUGANAN (Ancient word of uncertain origin) Exact meaning unsure, relating to an ancient people.

  SOK (Ahtna Athabascan) Raven call.

  TIKAANI (Ahtna Athabascan) Wolf.

  TIKIYAASDE (Ahtna Athabascan) Menstruation hut.

  TSAANI (Ahtna Athabascan) Grizzly bear, Ursus arctos.

  TS’ES (Ahtna Athabascan) Rock, stone.

  TUTAQAGIISIX (Aleut) Hearing.

  ULAX(s.) ULAS(pl.) (Aleut) A semisubterranean dwelling raftered with driftwood and covered with thatching and sod.

  YAA (Ahtna Athabascan) Sky.

  YAYKAAS (Ahtna Athabaskan) Literally, “flashing sky.” The aurora borealis.

  YEHL (Tlingit) Raven.

  The words in this glossary are defined and listed according to their use in Song of the River. Readers interested in pronunciation guides may write to the author at: P.O. Box 6, Pickford, MI 49774.

  Pharmacognosia

  PLANTS LISTED IN THIS pharmacognosia are not recommended for use, but are cited only as a supplement to the novel. Many poisonous plants resemble helpful plants, and even some of the most benign can be harmful if used in excess. The wisest way to harvest wild vegetation for use as medicine, food or dyes is in the company of an expert. Plants are listed in alphabetical order according to the names used in Song of the River.

  ALDER, Alnus crispa: A small tree with grayish bark. Medium green leaves have toothed edges, rounded bases and pointed tops. Flower clusters resemble miniature pinecones. The cambium or inner layer of bark is dried (fresh bark will irritate the stomach) and used to make tea said to reduce high fever. It is also used as an astringent and a gargle for sore throats. The bark is used to make brown dye.

  BEDSTRAW: See Goose Grass, below.

  BLUEBERRY (bog blueberry), Vaccinium uliginosum: A low-branching, extremely hardy shrub. Leaves are medium green with rounded tips. Small, round blue-black berries ripen in August. Berries are choice for food, fresh or dried, and are high in iron.

  CARIBOU LEAVES (wormwood, silverleaf), Artemisia tilesii: This perennial plant attains a height of two to three feet on a single stem. The hairy, lobed leaves are silver underneath and a darker green on top. A spike of small clustered flowers grows at the top of the stem in late summer. Fresh leaves are used to make a tea that is said to purify the blood and stop internal bleeding, and to wash cuts and sore eyes. The leaves are heated and layered over arthritic joints to ease pain. Caution: caribou leaves may be toxic in large doses.

  CHUHNUSIX (wild geranium, cranebill), Geranium erianthum: A perennial with dark green palmated leaves and purplish flowers. It grows to a little over two feet in height. Dried leaves are steeped for tea that is used as a gargle for sore throats and a wash to dry seeping wounds.

  CLOUDBERRY (salmonberry), Rubus chamaemorus: Not to be confused with the larger shrublike salmonberry, Rubus spectabilis, this small plant grows to about six inches in height and bears a single white flower and a salmon-colored berry shaped like a raspberry. The green leaves are serrated and have five main lobes. The berries are edible but not as flavorful as raspberries, and are high in vitamin C. The juice from the berries is said to be a remedy for hives.

  FIVE-LEAVES GRASS (cinquefoil), Potentilla tormentilla; (marsh fivefinger), Potentilla palustris: These potentillas have five-fingered palmate leaves, and root at the joints. Plants of the Potentilla genus have yellow flowers—except palustris, which has purple blooms. They branch out from the root with flowers at the end of eighteen- to twenty-inch stems. Palustris leaves are used for tea (nonmedicinal). Tormentilla root is boiled and applied as a poultice to skin eruptions and shingles. It is said to be useful as a tonic for the lungs, for fevers and as a gargle for gum and mouth sores.

  GOOSE GRASS (northern bedstraw), Galium boreale: The narrow leaves grow in groups of four under the fragrant white flower sprays. Young plants warmed (not boiled) in hot water and placed on external wounds are said to help clot the blood. The dried plant, made into a salve with softened fat, was used to treat external skin irritations. Teas (steeped, not boiled) made of young leaves, seeds or roots may be diuretic. Roots produce a purplish dye.

  IITIKAALUX (cow parsnip, wild celery), Heracleum lanatum: A thick-stemmed, hearty plant that grows to nine feet in height. The coarse, dark leaves have three main lobes with serrated edges. It is also known by the Russian name poochki or putchki. Stems and leaf stalks taste like a spicy celery but must be peeled before eating because the outer layer is a skin irritant. White flowers grow in inverted bowl-shaped clusters at the tops of the plants. Roots are also edible, and leaves were dried to flavor soups and stews. The root was chewed raw to ease sore throats and was heated and a section pushed into a painful tooth to deaden root pain. Caution: gloves should be worn when harvesting. Iitikaalux is similar in appearance to poisonous water hemlock.

  LIGIGE’ (soapberry or dog berry), Shepherdia canadensis: A shrub that grows to six feet in height with smooth, round-tipped, dark green leaves. The orange-colored berries ripen in July and are edible but bitter. They foam like soap when beaten.

  PARTNER GRASS (pineapple weed), Matricaria matricarioides: Finely feathered leaves grow on stems up to twelve inches in height. The rayless yellow flower heads emit a pineapple smell when crushed. Plants are used for teas and are said to soothe stomach upsets. Caution: some people experience skin irritation from handling these plants. Large doses may cause nausea and vomiting.

  PURPLE FLOWER (purple boneset), Eupatorium purpureum: A tall (five to six feet) perennial, its clustered purple flower heads appear in September. Coarse leaves grow in groups of three or five. The root, crushed in a water solution, is said to be a diuretic and tonic as well as a relaxant.

  RYE GRASS (basket grass, beach grass), Elymus arenarius mollis: A tall, coarse-bladed grass that is dried and split, then used by Aleut weavers to make finely woven baskets and mats.

  SIXSIQAX (wormwood), Artemisia unalaskensis: Some Aleut people used the leaves of this plant as a hot poultice. See Caribou Leaves, above.

  SOUR DOCK (sorrel, curly dock), Rumex crispus; (arctic dock) Rumex arcticus: Leaves are shaped like spearheads, wavy at the edges, and
fan out from the base of the plant. A central stalk grows to three or four feet in height and bears clusters of edible reddish seeds. Steamed leaves are said to remove warts. The root of these plants is crushed and used as a poultice for skin eruptions. Fresh leaves are abundant in vitamins C and A, but contain oxalic acid, so consumption should be moderate.

  WILLOW, Salix: A narrow-leafed shrub or small tree with smooth gray, yellowish and/or brownish bark. There are presently more than thirty species of willow in Alaska. The leaves are a very good source of vitamin C, though in some varieties they taste quite bitter. The leaves and inner bark contain salicin, which acts like aspirin to deaden pain. Bark can be chipped and boiled to render a pain-relieving tea. Leaves can also be boiled for tea. Leaves are chewed and placed over insect bites to relieve itching. Roots and branches are used to make baskets and woven fish weirs.

  WOUNDWORT (goldenrod), Solidago multiradiata, Solidago lepida: Serrated leaves grow in an alternating pattern up stalks that can attain three feet in height. Golden clusters of flowers top the stem in August and September. Powdered or fresh leaves and flowers were used as dressings for wounds. Tea made from flowers is said to be helpful for internal bleeding or diarrhea. Flowers are used to make a yellow dye.

  YELLOW ROOT (gold thread), Coptis trifolia: A creeping fibrous perennial root, the leaves grow in threes on foot-high stalks separate from flower stalks. Tea made from boiling the root is said to be an invigorating tonic and also a gargle for sore throats and mouth lesions.

  YELLOW VIOLET, Violaceae: Small yellow five-petaled flowers are borne on stems that grow to approximately ten inches. Flowers carry irregular dark lines at the center of each petal. Serrated leaves are heart-shaped. Both leaves and flowers are edible. Leaves are a good source of vitamin C. Leaves were mixed with fat and used as a salve on skin contusions. Caution: leaves and flowers tend to have a laxative effect.

  Acknowledgments

  NONE OF MY NOVELS could have been written without the patience, encouragement and wise advice of my husband, Neil Harrison. He is my best friend, business partner, confidant and travel companion. I also owe a great debt of gratitude to our children, Krystal and Neil; our parents, Pat and Bob McHaney and Shirley and Clifford Harrison; and to our brothers and sisters. A loving family is a gift I can never repay.

  To my agent, Rhoda Weyr, whom I am privileged to count as friend as well as adviser, forever my thanks. She saw possibility where others did not, and in addition to her astute business skills, continues to enrich my life as encourager, advocate and sounding board. My most sincere gratitude to Ellen Edwards, an editor blessed with skill, vision and patience. I count myself fortunate to have had her help because my work requires an inordinate amount of all three. My heartfelt appreciation also to her staff, and to Ann McKay Thoroman and her staff.

  To those friends and family members who have had the patience to read Song of the River in its various forms, many, many thanks: my husband, Neil; Pat and Bob McHaney; friend and gifted writer Linda Hudson; and my sister, Patricia Walker.

  With each of my novels, and with each of the journeys Neil and I make to Alaska, we find we are more indebted to those who share their knowledge, expertise and advice. There are never enough words to express our gratitude and the awe we feel when people open their homes and their hearts to us.

  For those families who have offered the hospitality of their homes during our Alaska travels, many thanks: Dort and Ragan Callaway and Mike and Rayna Livingston of Anchorage; Karen and Rudy Brandt; Kaydee Caraway and her family: Candie, Joe and Hollie of Anchorage and Beluga; Mark Shellinger, Superintendent of the Pribilof Islands School District (who made our visit to the Pribilofs possible, gave us a place in his home, and escorted us on incredible walking tours of the island); B.G. and Lois Olson of St. Paul Island; Bonnie, Chris and Samantha Mierzejek of St. George Island (who gave us a place in their home and treated us like family); Mike and Sally Swetzof and their daughters Crystal and Mary of Atka; Bill Walz, Superintendent of the Aleutian Region School District and his wife Lani and son Wilson of Unalaska (who engineered our trip to Unalaska and Atka and allowed us to stay in their home, including us in Unalaska’s wonderful Aleut Week); head of the Akutan Traditional Council, Jacob Stepetin, and his wife, Annette, and Pat Darling (who arranged our visit to Akutan).

  Our sincere appreciation also to the teachers, staff and students of the St. George and the St. Paul schools who quickly found a place in our hearts, and to those in the communities of St. Paul and St. George who welcomed us with receptions, warm food and warm hearts; the dancers at St. George and St. Paul; and the members of the St. George and the Atka Russian Orthodox churches who allowed this Methodist to join them in their services and helped me discover that worship transcends the boundaries of language; to Chris Lokanin for taking me to an old barabara site on Atka and for carving me an Aleut nose pin; and Tamara Guil, my Atka guide via a four-wheeler; Katia Guil, Ethan Pettigrew and the Atka Dancers (How can words express my gratitude that you would don your beautiful regalia and dance for Neil and me?); the staff and teachers at Unalaska School who welcomed me into their classrooms and sent us home with jams and jellies, salmon and many wonderful memories; the staff and teachers at Atka School and the people of Atka for their hospitality; and to the people of Akutan for the reception of food and fellowship; and to the late Nick Sias and his Blue Goose. In our hearts, they will both forever fly the Aleutian skies.

  Any historical novel requires long hours of research. I owe an incredible debt to many people who shared experiences, knowledge and resource materials. Errors contained in Song of the River are solely my own and not the fault of those cited in these acknowledgments.

  A special thanks to Andrew Gronholdt and his instruction during the Aleut Ceremonial Hat Class arranged by Jerah Chadwick and conducted through the University of Alaska Fairbanks extension services at Unalaska. Neil was privileged to learn this ancient art from Andrew and also to enjoy Andrew’s wit and his store of wisdom. For Ray Hudson, whose books have inspired, informed and entertained, my gratitude for the privilege of an early reading of The Bays of Beaver Inlet (Epicenter Press). For readers who hanker for a taste of what modern life is like on the Aleutian Islands, Ray’s book is a must read. You will learn much, but beyond the learning, you will find that it speaks to your heart.

  My sincere appreciation to Dr. William Laughlin and his daughter Sarah, for their continued support and for answering questions on their archaeological work on the Aleutian Islands; Dr. Mark McDonald, for information on geology and ocean habitats; Forbes McDonald, for information on bear hunting; Don Alan Hall, Center for the Study of the First Americans, Oregon State University, editor of the very fine magazine Mammoth Trumpet; Dr. Douglas Veltrie, for taking time to show us many Native artifacts in storage at the University of Alaska Anchorage and to answer my many questions; Dr. Rick Knecht, for slide presentations during Unalaska Aleut Week on his various dig sites in the islands; Clint Groover, doctor of veterinary medicine, and his wife and assistant, Barbara, for answering my questions about dogs; Crystal Swetzof and Clara Snigaroff, for information about the Aleut language, Atkan dialect; Mike Swetzof, for historical perspectives on the Aleut people and for demonstrating an authentic Aleut throwing board and harpoon; Katia Guil, for dance and Koryak legends; Ethan Petticrew, for Aleut dance and legends; Bonnie Mierzejek, for hours of answering my questions, for sharing childhood Aleut stories and for allowing me to sit in on her Aleut language classes at the St. George School; Edna at St. Paul, for allowing me to sit in on her Aleut language classes; Jacob Stepetin, for showing us the artifacts at the Akutan Library Museum and answering questions about fishing; Denise Wartes, University of Alaska Fairbanks, for her patient replies to my questions about her work in interior Alaska; Okalena Patricia Lekanoff-Gregory, for sharing Aleut stories and for her basket-weaving presentation during Aleut Week; Candie Caraway, for information on bears; Kaydee Caraway, for information on wolves; June McGlashan, for poetry that is the fragile a
nd robust echo of the Aleut soul; and Phia Xiong, for answering my questions about the Hmong culture.

  My gratitude also to those who shared resource material: Ernest Stepetin; Richard Herring; Phyllis Hunter; Mick and Kathleen Herring; Jerah Chadwick; Kristi and Mike Lucia; Bill White; Don Darling; Margaret Lekanoff; James and Esther Waybrant; Ann Chandonnet; Dort and Ragan Callaway; Mike and Rayna Livingston.

  My sincere appreciation to my husband, Neil, for his computer work digitizing the map for this book.

  And to Dora: your words to me as I left St. Paul will forever be in my heart.

  Turn the page to continue reading from the Ivory Carver Trilogy

  PART ONE

  610 B.C.

  THE OLD WOMAN LOOKED down at the child. The boy’s eyes were shining, alert. She was tired, but how often did a storyteller have the pleasure of passing her tales to a child like this? How often was a Dzuuggi, a child destined to be a storyteller, born to the People? And this one was surely Dzuuggi. She had heard his voice in her dreams even when his mother carried him in her womb.

  The old woman had also been chosen Dzuuggi, taught as a child the histories of the River People, but now that knowledge was a burden—so many words to be remembered. Each day as she told the stories to the boy, she felt their weight lift from her, and each day she felt lighter and stronger as though her old bones would straighten, and she would walk once more with firm steps.

  She cupped a wooden bowl of willow bark tea in her hands. She raised the tea to her mouth and sipped. The bowl had darkened with age, the wood rich from the many teas it had held, the many stories it had heard.

  Be like this bowl, small Dzuuggi, the old woman thought, and she closed her eyes, lifted her head so those thoughts would climb like a prayer. Be like this cup. Hold much, give much, and become rich with what is within you.

  “So then, child,” she began, “you remember those two storytellers, Aqamdax and Chakliux?”