The Story of Donehogawa (Ely Parker) – The First Indian Commissioner of Indian Affairs
In a often copied painting of the surrender of the Confederate Army at Appomattox there is General Grant and General Lee sitting at their desks and in the background is a half dozen or more Union officers lining the wall and looking on. I noted that one of these Union officers is clearly an Indian. Who is he and what is he doing here?
The answer to my question turns out to be a most interesting story. The man pictured is a Seneca Iroquois; Donehogawa, Keeper of the Western Door of the Long House of the Iroquois. He was born and raised on the Tonawanda reservation in New York and known as a boy by the name, Hasanoanda of the Seneca. Ambition caused Hasanoanda to change his name to Ely Parker as he realized that whites would not take him seriously with an Anglo name.
In his youth, working as a stable boy at an Army post, he endured racism and harassment over his poor command of the English language. He enrolled himself at a missionary school where he developed an excellent command of language and began working for a New York law firm where his goal was to become a lawyer, which he thought was the most suitable profession in which he could help his people. After a successful three years with the law firm he applied for admission to the bar. He was refused. Indians need not apply. This did not dampen Donehogawa’s determination. He researched what white profession he could pursue without encountering a closed door and found engineering the way to go. He entered Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and not only mastered but excelled at all courses in civil engineering. His first job was working on the Erie Canal. By the time he was 29 the United States government enlisted him to supervise the construction of levees and buildings. In 1860 he found himself working in Galena, Illinois where he met and became friends with a disgraced and former Army captain by the name of Ulysses S. Grant.
In 1861 when the Civil War began, Ely Parker returned to New York to raise a regiment of Iroquois Indians to fight for the Union but was turned down by the Governor. Parker then unsuccessfully tried to enter the Union as an engineer and was again refused because of his race. He was told this was a “white man’s war” and “go home, cultivate your farm, and we will settle our troubles without any Indian aid.”
The government refusals did not stop Parker, he let his friend, U.S. Grant know of the denials. Grant sorely needed engineers and after episodes of red tape with the Union Army, Grant sent orders for his Indian friend to join him in the Vicksburg campaign. Lieutenant Colonel Ely Samuel Parker would remain a close aid to Grant through the Vicksburg campaign, Chattanooga, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, the siege of Petersburg, and finally at Appomattox.
The painting that I previously mentioned of the peace being made at Appomattox in which there was a line of Union officers over-seeing the writing and signing of the peace terms of the bloodiest war ever waged in the western hemisphere (620,000 killed – more than all the other wars fought by this country combined,) were Orville Babcock, Phil Sheridan, Seth Williams, John Rawlins, Horace Porter, and Ely Parker.
When General Grant finished the hand written surrender document he said, “When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no mistaking it.”
Grant then called his senior adjutant to copy the letter but he said, “too nervous.” Grant then “called Colonel Parker…to his side and looked it over with him and directed him as they went along to interline six or seven words and to strike the word ‘their’ which had been repeated …he handed the book to General Lee and asked him to read over the letter.” Parkers excellent hand writing spelled out the terms of peace.
After all was said, signed, and agreed upon, there was a hand shaking ceremony. As Lee was going down the line and greeting the Union officers, he came to the Indian, Colonel Parker and hesitated. Parker said, “After Lee had stared at me for a moment, he extended his hand and said, ‘I am glad to see one real American here.’ I shook his hand and said, ‘We are all Americans.”
Jumping ahead to the late 1860’s – Red Cloud’s Dakota warriors had won a war with the whites. The second greatest defeat to any American army came at the hands of Dakota and Cheyenne’s at Fort Kearney where they wiped out an entire unit of 81 men led by Captain Fetterman. Crazy Horse had led and designed the ambush. The Powder River forts along the Bozeman trail were burned by the Indians and Red Cloud signed a treaty in which he was told that he and his people could stay and hunt the Powder River country rather than move to a reservation far to the east on the Missouri River where game was scarce. The whites said they’d stay out of the Dakota lands and let them be at peace.
Red Cloud began to hear rumors that he’d have to go the Missouri River to trade and that eventually they too would have to permanently move too. Red Cloud began to suspect the obvious, that being that he was not told all that the white man’s pen had written on the paper that he touched his pen to. Corresponding to approximate same period of time, a massacre of an undefended Blackfoot village took place. A report of the facts as they relate to this massacre was submitted by a young officer, Lt. William Pease, jeopardizing his own career in doing so. This report went to the new commissioner, Ely Parker. Parker demanded an immediate investigation by government authorities.
When Grant was elected a President, he chose Parker to be his head of Indian Affairs, believing that an Indian could do a better job than a white. Parker cleaned house of the entrenched, corrupt bureaucrats holding offices in the Indian Affairs offices. Religious institutions were solicited for new agents and many Quakers stepped forward, so many that the new plan became known as the “Quaker policy” or the “peace policy.” Donehogawa also appointed a citizens watch dog group, made up of both whites and Indians, to over see the Bureau of Indian Affairs but no Indians with political pull could be found so it became all whites.
Parker knew that war would break out again if he did not act. He sent word to Red Cloud that he wished him to come to Washington if Red Cloud so wished. There was no demand, only a suggestion to Red Cloud which proved a very sagacious manner in which Parker handled the situation in which to get the great Dakota chief to Washington. A special military escort was provided for the several dozen Indians making the trip. When in Washington, Parker did not act as someone telling the Indians what was to be; rather he asked to hear to hear what they had to say of themselves.
After a tour of Washington and all its extraordinary sites, Parker asked them to pose for the famous photographer, Matthew Brady. He recognized that the Indians were uncomfortable in the white man’s clothing they were wearing and suggested that they put on their native dress for both the photo session and dinner at the White House with President Grant.
Ely Parker was in an extremely tough spot to be, between representing the desires of Red Cloud and his people and a bunch of politicians who firmly believe in Manifest Destiny – the notion that white people and their way of life were ordained by God to take all the Red Man’s land and that the Indian was doomed to extinction. He knew that Red Cloud had been deceived. He knew that the Fort Laramie treaty that Red Cloud had signed had not been fully read or explained to Red Cloud. Ely Parker met with the President that night and came up with a partial solution for the Dakota. Although the treaty stated that the hunting grounds were outside the Reservation, and the reservation was where they had to reside, Parker and Grant conceded that Red Cloud and his people could live and hunt on their beloved Powder River country. Red Cloud had won again but his time, instead of Crazy Horse or another Dakota warrior at his side; it was an Iroquois warrior,
Donehongawa.
While in New York, Red Cloud spoke to a large audience at the Cooper Institute and got a rousing ovation. “For the first time he had an opportunity to talk to the people instead of government officials.” Red Cloud spoke, “We want to keep peace, will you help us? In 1868 men came out and brought papers. We could not read them, and they did not tell us truly what was in them. We thought the treaty was to remove the forts, and that we should cease from fighting. But they wanted to send us traders on the Missouri. We did not want to go to the Missouri, but wanted traders where we were. When I reached Washington the Great Father explained to me what the treaty was, and showed me that the interpreters had deceived me. All I want is right and just. I have tried to get from the Great Father what is right and just. I have not altogether succeeded.”
When Red Cloud returned home with a partial victory he found that things had not changed in the west. The same developers, ranchers, and land seekers were vigorously opposing the Dakota occupation on these rich and desirable lands.
Things for Ely Parker took a turn for the worse after Red Cloud’s departure. Mining interests turned on him for his opposition to a mining venture known as the Bighorn Mining Expedition and his reforms had created powerful enemies of the Indian Bureau as a cash cow.
In 1870 an attempt was made by Parker’s enemies to withhold food and annuity payments to the Indians and in result, embarrass him. Parker tried to circumvent this ploy by payment for these necessities in credit which in doing so, was used by his enemies to portray it as a scandal.
A legislative committee was established to investigate Parker and his re-structured Bureau of Indian Affairs but no wrong doing could be found. Parker considered what to do next. He decided to resign as his continuing as chief of Indian Affairs would be crippled and he would be an embarrassment to his close friend President Grant.
When Parker left office, he went to New York and made a fortune. He lived out the rest of his life removed from the corrupt political affairs of Washington, unable to deal anymore with the bigotry of the white ruling class.
“The whites told only one side. Told it to please themselves. Told much that is not true. Only his own best deeds, only the worst deeds of the Indians, has the white man told.” Yellow Wolf of the Nez Perce
The material for this essay came from:
To Appomattox - Burke Davis
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee - Dee Brown
Crossroads of Freedom-Antietam - James McPherson
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Fox Sparrow Sparrows and their Brethren
Beginning in March and continuing into May and again in September, continuing through November, large masses of ‘little brown birds’ are migrating. These little brown birds provide a spectacle unrivaled in the bird kingdom but often go unnoticed by those who look skyward for more ostentatious members of the feathered tribes.
I once had a bear hunter ask me what kind of birds are those that congregate around his bait. I asked for a description of which he replied; “little brown birds.” My reply was that there are hundreds of pages in any bird field guide of “little brown birds.” It seems that the white hunter culture in this country find it beneath their dignity to know these ‘little brown birds.’ As an avid hunter myself, I feel like Aldo Leopold, that being familiar with all life forms, from micro-organisms in the soil to the birds in the lofty canopies is a source of inspiration, wonder, and education concerning the creatures that teach me the ways of the real world - the foundation of all that supports life.
The great Crow Warrior and Chief, Plenty-Coups, in his vision quest did not see the Grizzly, Wolverine, or Wolf as his life guide, the Chickadee became his “spirit guide.” The Chickadee was his guide for the fact that if such a small, seemingly insignificant bird can survive and flourish amongst all the more imposing creatures of its world, then it must have supreme intelligence and survival abilities. As a hunter, I find it short-sighted and ignorant to see just ‘game animals’ as having any value in nature. If a great Crow Warrior can emulate the tiny Chickadee, I see no effeminate characteristics in doing the same. Having the ability to recognize the value in nongame species makes the natural world interesting twelve months a year.
My woods is a stopping over area for Juncos, Tree Sparrows, Fox Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Swamp Sparrows, White-Throated Sparrows, White-Crowned Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows, Harris Sparrows, and more. Some stay and breed but most are on their way further north but not before spending several weeks or more fattening up on seeds and other vegetation on the ground or the millet and cracked corn I spread around my yard. All the sparrow species I find of interest but the one that I most enjoy is the Fox Sparrow.
The Fox Sparrow is one of the larger sparrows. He has a reddish fox colored tail, rump, and back contrasts with his white breast that is spectacled with spots and is highlighted with a large central breast spot. The Fox Sparrow does not stick around but proceeds on to the far north. His melodious song is infrequently heard here as it is saved till he arrives on his breeding ground. He aggressively scratches the ground, like a little chicken, for seeds and other vegetation. When walking through the woods this time of the year, the ground will look like someone went through the country with a small de-thatcher. This is from the vigorous scratching by thousands of Fox Sparrows. Mr. Fox Sparrow is the most territorial and aggressive of all the sparrows. Watch some for just a brief time and you will recognize that each Fox Sparrow is within an invisible circle, which he defends against any trespassing Fox Sparrow. When a neighbor gets too close, they will both jump up and kick and scratch at one another like a pair of fighting cocks. If a Junco or another breed of sparrow crosses this line, Mr. Fox Sparrow does not become so confrontational.
The migration of the vast flocks of sparrows does not involve any singularity but comprises self contained moving ecosystems. A good example of this is the Sharp-Shinned Hawk – a smallish member of the accipiter group of raptors and often referred to as the “blue darter.” This little fierce hawk is a close associate of the migrating bands of sparrows, preying on them with impunity. Always, the Sharp-Shins are seen in greatest concentrations while following the vast numbers of Juncos and other sparrows. Many times I have been watching these flocks of sparrows through my binoculars, ground feeding, when a blur will be seen in my sight as this little hawk will fly off with a Junco or Fox Sparrow in his talons. During these times of migration, sparrows must be the primary source of prey for the ‘blue darter.’
Soon, all will move on and pair off, defending territory, breeding, raising their off spring, fattening themselves for another miracle of migration, and stopping over for a brief time so I can enjoy their lust for life. So good luck Fox Sparrow till we meet again this autumn.
“We need another and wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they moved finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.” …Henry Beston
Beginning in March and continuing into May and again in September, continuing through November, large masses of ‘little brown birds’ are migrating. These little brown birds provide a spectacle unrivaled in the bird kingdom but often go unnoticed by those who look skyward for more ostentatious members of the feathered tribes.
I once had a bear hunter ask me what kind of birds are those that congregate around his bait. I asked for a description of which he replied; “little brown birds.” My reply was that there are hundreds of pages in any bird field guide of “little brown birds.” It seems that the white hunter culture in this country find it beneath their dignity to know these ‘little brown birds.’ As an avid hunter myself, I feel like Aldo Leopold, that being familiar with all life forms, from micro-organisms in the soil to the birds in the lofty canopies is a source of inspiration, wonder, and education concerning the creatures that teach me the ways of the real world - the foundation of all that supports life.
The great Crow Warrior and Chief, Plenty-Coups, in his vision quest did not see the Grizzly, Wolverine, or Wolf as his life guide, the Chickadee became his “spirit guide.” The Chickadee was his guide for the fact that if such a small, seemingly insignificant bird can survive and flourish amongst all the more imposing creatures of its world, then it must have supreme intelligence and survival abilities. As a hunter, I find it short-sighted and ignorant to see just ‘game animals’ as having any value in nature. If a great Crow Warrior can emulate the tiny Chickadee, I see no effeminate characteristics in doing the same. Having the ability to recognize the value in nongame species makes the natural world interesting twelve months a year.
My woods is a stopping over area for Juncos, Tree Sparrows, Fox Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Swamp Sparrows, White-Throated Sparrows, White-Crowned Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows, Harris Sparrows, and more. Some stay and breed but most are on their way further north but not before spending several weeks or more fattening up on seeds and other vegetation on the ground or the millet and cracked corn I spread around my yard. All the sparrow species I find of interest but the one that I most enjoy is the Fox Sparrow.
The Fox Sparrow is one of the larger sparrows. He has a reddish fox colored tail, rump, and back contrasts with his white breast that is spectacled with spots and is highlighted with a large central breast spot. The Fox Sparrow does not stick around but proceeds on to the far north. His melodious song is infrequently heard here as it is saved till he arrives on his breeding ground. He aggressively scratches the ground, like a little chicken, for seeds and other vegetation. When walking through the woods this time of the year, the ground will look like someone went through the country with a small de-thatcher. This is from the vigorous scratching by thousands of Fox Sparrows. Mr. Fox Sparrow is the most territorial and aggressive of all the sparrows. Watch some for just a brief time and you will recognize that each Fox Sparrow is within an invisible circle, which he defends against any trespassing Fox Sparrow. When a neighbor gets too close, they will both jump up and kick and scratch at one another like a pair of fighting cocks. If a Junco or another breed of sparrow crosses this line, Mr. Fox Sparrow does not become so confrontational.
The migration of the vast flocks of sparrows does not involve any singularity but comprises self contained moving ecosystems. A good example of this is the Sharp-Shinned Hawk – a smallish member of the accipiter group of raptors and often referred to as the “blue darter.” This little fierce hawk is a close associate of the migrating bands of sparrows, preying on them with impunity. Always, the Sharp-Shins are seen in greatest concentrations while following the vast numbers of Juncos and other sparrows. Many times I have been watching these flocks of sparrows through my binoculars, ground feeding, when a blur will be seen in my sight as this little hawk will fly off with a Junco or Fox Sparrow in his talons. During these times of migration, sparrows must be the primary source of prey for the ‘blue darter.’
Soon, all will move on and pair off, defending territory, breeding, raising their off spring, fattening themselves for another miracle of migration, and stopping over for a brief time so I can enjoy their lust for life. So good luck Fox Sparrow till we meet again this autumn.
“We need another and wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they moved finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.” …Henry Beston
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Omakakii, Our Ancient Protector
“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: ‘What good is it?’ If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.” Aldo Leopold “Round River”
Spring came early to northern Minnesota this year. It was on April 4th when I heard my first wood frog or Rana sylvatica, whose calling sounds like tens of thousands of pebbles clicking together in a wild cacophony near woodland wetlands. Generally, when I hear the first wood frog, I know that the maple sapping season is near its end. Once the wood frogs emerge in mass and start their singing, it is certain notice to sappers that the season is over. The ancient calling of frogs has deep primal meaning that far precedes mans existence on earth.
It is when the wood frog sings that I am reminded how ephemeral mankind’s existence is in relation to the many other joint tenants of earth. The calling and croaking of frogs is so primal that the dinosaurs listened to them. The first frogs appeared on earth 400 to 360 million years ago during the Devonian Period which was a part of the Paleozoic Era, an Era in which great explosions of life on earth were taking place. The dinosaurs evolved later during the Mesozoic Era – the Age of Reptiles - 248 million to 65 million years ago. Even the dinosaurs were new-comers to the frog’s world. So a frog chorus by a secluded pond on a spring evening is one of those often unnoticed miracles of life that enables us to listen to the ages. It is part of the great continuity and thread of life that traces its source back to some primal soupy pond of amino acids morphing into life three or four billion years ago.
There are numerous frog species to northern Minnesota but the wood frog is especially interesting as it seems particularly suited to our region. It is a handsome frog of which its most telling physical feature is its black mask across its eyes. Its range extends further north than any other amphibian or reptile in North America – extending north of the Arctic Circle. It has a unique strategy which allows it to survive the bitter cold winters. Like any other animal, it would freeze but the frog manufactures glucose, referred to as “cryoprotectant,” which is in essence an anti-freeze. Although the frogs cells freeze solid as any other animals would, the cryoprotectant prevents ice from forming between the cell walls thus preventing the expanding ice crystals from rupturing or damaging the cell walls. This increase of glucose, which is a form of sugar, is about 60 times greater than normal. This would cause a severe diabetic reaction in any other animal but has no negative effect on the wood frog. Who knows, maybe the wood frog is harboring a cure to human diabetes?
Upon awakening or thawing, the wood frog enters the nearest vernal pond or wetland and immediately breeds and lays its eggs which mature and hatch well before any other native frog. The wood frogs lay their eggs together in large masses. The eggs are dark in color and are imbedded in a thick mass of jelly which also enables them to survive cold wetlands which may still have ice present. The tadpoles can tolerate the cold and mature rapidly which allows them to leave the ponds which may dry up soon and also escape the predators of the ponds and wetlands. It should also be noted that the wood frog, besides being the first frog of the season, is also the last frog to go down in the autumn. I have heard the clicking and clacking of their call as late as the deer season in November.
The wood frog is aptly named as his habitat is the forest where he finds refuge in the leaf or needle liter of the forest floor but he is never far from the pond. I have placed a plastic frog pond in a semi-shady spot in my garden. It has become a gathering place for wood frogs in the warm summer days. Often I will see as many as a dozen sitting within a foot of my frog pond hunting insects.
The frog, or Omakakii, is a critter who gives warning, not by voicing alarm but by its silence. Many times I have carefully approached my pond when the wood frogs have been in chorus but have all, in unison, become silent when I, or any other creature, approach. It is their silence that is a warning to all that something is approaching. Listen for their silence, it is an unmistakable warning.
The next time you hear Omakakii, contemplate the many eons that this amazing animal has inhabited the earth and think of his sagacity by alerting the other inhabitants of potential danger in his world not through vocalizing but by silence. And be cognizant of the mysteries of Omakakii… the many that are beyond our comprehension.
“Neither in body nor in mind do we inhabit the world of those hunting races of the Paleolithic era, to whose lives and life ways we nevertheless owe the very forms of our bodies and structures of our minds. Memories of their animal envoys still must sleep somehow within us; for they wake a little and stir when we venture into wilderness.”
Joseph Campbell
“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: ‘What good is it?’ If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.” Aldo Leopold “Round River”
Spring came early to northern Minnesota this year. It was on April 4th when I heard my first wood frog or Rana sylvatica, whose calling sounds like tens of thousands of pebbles clicking together in a wild cacophony near woodland wetlands. Generally, when I hear the first wood frog, I know that the maple sapping season is near its end. Once the wood frogs emerge in mass and start their singing, it is certain notice to sappers that the season is over. The ancient calling of frogs has deep primal meaning that far precedes mans existence on earth.
It is when the wood frog sings that I am reminded how ephemeral mankind’s existence is in relation to the many other joint tenants of earth. The calling and croaking of frogs is so primal that the dinosaurs listened to them. The first frogs appeared on earth 400 to 360 million years ago during the Devonian Period which was a part of the Paleozoic Era, an Era in which great explosions of life on earth were taking place. The dinosaurs evolved later during the Mesozoic Era – the Age of Reptiles - 248 million to 65 million years ago. Even the dinosaurs were new-comers to the frog’s world. So a frog chorus by a secluded pond on a spring evening is one of those often unnoticed miracles of life that enables us to listen to the ages. It is part of the great continuity and thread of life that traces its source back to some primal soupy pond of amino acids morphing into life three or four billion years ago.
There are numerous frog species to northern Minnesota but the wood frog is especially interesting as it seems particularly suited to our region. It is a handsome frog of which its most telling physical feature is its black mask across its eyes. Its range extends further north than any other amphibian or reptile in North America – extending north of the Arctic Circle. It has a unique strategy which allows it to survive the bitter cold winters. Like any other animal, it would freeze but the frog manufactures glucose, referred to as “cryoprotectant,” which is in essence an anti-freeze. Although the frogs cells freeze solid as any other animals would, the cryoprotectant prevents ice from forming between the cell walls thus preventing the expanding ice crystals from rupturing or damaging the cell walls. This increase of glucose, which is a form of sugar, is about 60 times greater than normal. This would cause a severe diabetic reaction in any other animal but has no negative effect on the wood frog. Who knows, maybe the wood frog is harboring a cure to human diabetes?
Upon awakening or thawing, the wood frog enters the nearest vernal pond or wetland and immediately breeds and lays its eggs which mature and hatch well before any other native frog. The wood frogs lay their eggs together in large masses. The eggs are dark in color and are imbedded in a thick mass of jelly which also enables them to survive cold wetlands which may still have ice present. The tadpoles can tolerate the cold and mature rapidly which allows them to leave the ponds which may dry up soon and also escape the predators of the ponds and wetlands. It should also be noted that the wood frog, besides being the first frog of the season, is also the last frog to go down in the autumn. I have heard the clicking and clacking of their call as late as the deer season in November.
The wood frog is aptly named as his habitat is the forest where he finds refuge in the leaf or needle liter of the forest floor but he is never far from the pond. I have placed a plastic frog pond in a semi-shady spot in my garden. It has become a gathering place for wood frogs in the warm summer days. Often I will see as many as a dozen sitting within a foot of my frog pond hunting insects.
The frog, or Omakakii, is a critter who gives warning, not by voicing alarm but by its silence. Many times I have carefully approached my pond when the wood frogs have been in chorus but have all, in unison, become silent when I, or any other creature, approach. It is their silence that is a warning to all that something is approaching. Listen for their silence, it is an unmistakable warning.
The next time you hear Omakakii, contemplate the many eons that this amazing animal has inhabited the earth and think of his sagacity by alerting the other inhabitants of potential danger in his world not through vocalizing but by silence. And be cognizant of the mysteries of Omakakii… the many that are beyond our comprehension.
“Neither in body nor in mind do we inhabit the world of those hunting races of the Paleolithic era, to whose lives and life ways we nevertheless owe the very forms of our bodies and structures of our minds. Memories of their animal envoys still must sleep somehow within us; for they wake a little and stir when we venture into wilderness.”
Joseph Campbell
Monday, April 5, 2010
Mother Earths New Year
Traditional Anishinabe see the first sap run in the sugar maple as the beginning of the New Year –a renewal and covenant with life after a harsh winter in the northland. It is a special time for one who has worked his sugar bush. Being out in a stand of northern hardwoods after a tough northern Minnesota winter, one is cognizant of an awakening in the earth and pleased to see the arrival of another season and opportunity to make the most enjoyable natural sugar known to us in the northland. The first taste of maple syrup, done over a wood burning evaporator is truly something to savor. Even an old white man like me gives thanks to Muzzu-kummik-quae (Mother Earth) for this gift.
Generally in northern Minnesota, the first taps go out sometime in March and by early April the taps begin to run good. My stand of maples are mixed within a diverse group of other northern hardwoods and the real work of collecting sap and boiling it down begins in April but the unusual early spring this year moved the sap run up by three weeks.
The first sap to run has lower sugar content. The sugar content or water ratio to sugar increase as the season advances. The first sap is around 50 to 1, water to sugar. As the season progresses, the content of sugar rises to around 28 to 1 and then diminishes as the season tails off. The highest sugar content that I have experienced was in 2007 when it peaked at 22 to 1. This ratio may seem incredibly low but the sugar maple has the highest concentration of sugar of any tree known to man.
What causes this? It begins with the onset of winter which stops the sap flow. Left standing in the trunk of the tree, sugar and other minerals from the surrounding wood become dissolved in the sap. The process of sap dissolving sugar and other nutrients is temporary hence the limited time span of the sugar season. Springtime’s warm and sunny days combined with frosty nights, act as a pump to raise stored nutrients from the roots and get the sap moving. If the temperatures stay above freezing or below freezing around the clock, the sap will not flow adequately.
The natural and unprocessed sugar provided by this magnificent tree not only yields the sweetness of our land but contains high quantities of minerals, trace elements, and amino acids. Besides an addition to our physical health, the trees leafs that display brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges in the autumn, enrich the soil with lime upon decomposition, further enriching the earth for other lime loving plants and micro organisms. The prolific and abundant seed production provide a valuable food source for deer, bear, squirrels, mice, birds, and a host of other animal life. The finished wood from this tree is very hard and exceedingly beautiful.
The sugar maple represents a true hardwood climax forest, surviving long periods as seedlings under the shade of oaks or other hardwoods, waiting for an opening in the canopy to develop, which allows them to shoot for the sky and form wide spreading crowns. Once the canopy is composed of mature sugar maples, they will form the densest of canopies, where only their own seedlings will survive below.
Tapping trees needs to be done with some thought and concern. Tapping a sugar maple can remove fifteen percent of the stored carbohydrate reserves – it doesn’t do the tree any good. Think of it as a person giving blood. Maples are also particularly vulnerable to soil compact and air pollution. Trees that are too small – less than 12inches at chest height -should not be tapped nor should larger trees have excessive taps applied.
We are fortunate in north-central Minnesota to be at the northern limit of the sugar maple. They do not grow where the temperatures regularly dip below forty degrees below zero. Most of my trees show frost cracks, the result of these frigid cold nights.
Any tree of the maple family will yield sap with sugar; red maple, silver maple, and box elder. Birch and basswood are also tapped but the sugar content of all the above mentioned is far lower than the sugar maple. Some have an 80 or 90 to 1 ratio and do not match the wonderful maple flavor.
As the season of the sugar bush comes to an end, I am grateful to the Ojibway for handing down this tradition and have developed a higher appreciation of the sugar maple and it saddens me to read of maple tree decline in the east where pollution and climate change are the reasons given.
“Every tree like every man must decide for itself --- will it live in the alluring forest and struggle to the top where alone is sunlight or give up the fight and content itself with the shade.” Ernest Thompson Seton
Generally in northern Minnesota, the first taps go out sometime in March and by early April the taps begin to run good. My stand of maples are mixed within a diverse group of other northern hardwoods and the real work of collecting sap and boiling it down begins in April but the unusual early spring this year moved the sap run up by three weeks.
The first sap to run has lower sugar content. The sugar content or water ratio to sugar increase as the season advances. The first sap is around 50 to 1, water to sugar. As the season progresses, the content of sugar rises to around 28 to 1 and then diminishes as the season tails off. The highest sugar content that I have experienced was in 2007 when it peaked at 22 to 1. This ratio may seem incredibly low but the sugar maple has the highest concentration of sugar of any tree known to man.
What causes this? It begins with the onset of winter which stops the sap flow. Left standing in the trunk of the tree, sugar and other minerals from the surrounding wood become dissolved in the sap. The process of sap dissolving sugar and other nutrients is temporary hence the limited time span of the sugar season. Springtime’s warm and sunny days combined with frosty nights, act as a pump to raise stored nutrients from the roots and get the sap moving. If the temperatures stay above freezing or below freezing around the clock, the sap will not flow adequately.
The natural and unprocessed sugar provided by this magnificent tree not only yields the sweetness of our land but contains high quantities of minerals, trace elements, and amino acids. Besides an addition to our physical health, the trees leafs that display brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges in the autumn, enrich the soil with lime upon decomposition, further enriching the earth for other lime loving plants and micro organisms. The prolific and abundant seed production provide a valuable food source for deer, bear, squirrels, mice, birds, and a host of other animal life. The finished wood from this tree is very hard and exceedingly beautiful.
The sugar maple represents a true hardwood climax forest, surviving long periods as seedlings under the shade of oaks or other hardwoods, waiting for an opening in the canopy to develop, which allows them to shoot for the sky and form wide spreading crowns. Once the canopy is composed of mature sugar maples, they will form the densest of canopies, where only their own seedlings will survive below.
Tapping trees needs to be done with some thought and concern. Tapping a sugar maple can remove fifteen percent of the stored carbohydrate reserves – it doesn’t do the tree any good. Think of it as a person giving blood. Maples are also particularly vulnerable to soil compact and air pollution. Trees that are too small – less than 12inches at chest height -should not be tapped nor should larger trees have excessive taps applied.
We are fortunate in north-central Minnesota to be at the northern limit of the sugar maple. They do not grow where the temperatures regularly dip below forty degrees below zero. Most of my trees show frost cracks, the result of these frigid cold nights.
Any tree of the maple family will yield sap with sugar; red maple, silver maple, and box elder. Birch and basswood are also tapped but the sugar content of all the above mentioned is far lower than the sugar maple. Some have an 80 or 90 to 1 ratio and do not match the wonderful maple flavor.
As the season of the sugar bush comes to an end, I am grateful to the Ojibway for handing down this tradition and have developed a higher appreciation of the sugar maple and it saddens me to read of maple tree decline in the east where pollution and climate change are the reasons given.
“Every tree like every man must decide for itself --- will it live in the alluring forest and struggle to the top where alone is sunlight or give up the fight and content itself with the shade.” Ernest Thompson Seton
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