The first streaks of a burning sunrise were just beginning to tinge the snow pink. The hunters were re-checking their supply of atlatl darts, knocking off a flake or two to sharpen the razor-thin edge of a point. The scouts had spent two long days slowly moving a small herd of bison toward the valley. If all went well, tonight there would be much feasting and celebration!
All the people at the camp had helped in the preparation for this hunt. First the piskun or pound had been re-built. This corral seemed a flimsy affair - a backbone of poplar and spruce poles as tall as a man covered in brush and bison skins. But the people knew the bison well; as long as the animals could not see through the barricade, they would mill around inside. The pound had been placed at the bottom of a steep slope. Once inside, the panicking beasts would be unable to run back the way they had come. Next they had set up the drive lanes. Two long rows of deadmen stretched away from the piskun like the arms on the letter "V". The deadmen were knee high piles of brush, stone, or bison dung placed about ten metres apart over a distance of up to two kilometres. The scouts would manoeuvre the bison between these two lines to channel them into the mouth of the pound.
Finally all the preparations were done. The night before, everyone in the camp had gathered to invoke the favour of the Sun and to ensure a successful hunt. Buffalo songs were sung, dancers mimicked the bison's movements, offerings were made, and prayers were chanted.
A call came from a lookout - the herd was on its way! The old men and young boys rushed to the deadmen and lay down behind them. As the bison passed, they would leap up, yelling and waving skins to keep the bison from turning. The hunters ran to the pound, spearthrowers at the ready. The women muzzled and tied up the dogs to prevent them from approaching the pound. They joined the men, butchering knives in hand.
A cloud of dust spilled over the rim of the valley. Wild-eyed bison, panting and frenzied, surged into the pound. Two hunters blocked off the entrance. The Pound Master took aim and drove a huge cow to her knees with a well aimed dart. The other hunters quickly joined in and soon the last moan was silenced. Already the women were stripping off the skins and dragging chunks of meat to the camp.
The band stayed in the valley until the spring, staging more hunts when bison were near or the meat supply dwindled. As the days lengthened they prepared to trail the bison back to the prairies. They packed their tents and sleeping robes onto a travois, harnessed the dogs, and set out. They left behind their hearths, broken tools, and piles of broken bison bones. The smell of rotting entrails, poplar smoke, and freshly fallen rain followed them out of the valley.
The archaeology student from the University of Calgary swatted a mosquito then edged through a thick growth of stinging nettles. Something grey and sharp poked his ankle. A bison bone, showing scrape marks made two centuries ago, jutted out of the ground. Another site had been found, one which would prove to be over 8000 years old.
EfPm-27 is one of 46 archaeological sites found in Fish Creek. Bison kill sites, processing sites, and campsites have been found but few have been studied in any detail.
The bison were everything to the Plains Indians. They were considered a gift from the Sun, a gift to be used wisely and with discretion. When the Europeans moved west and the wholesale slaughter of the vast herds occurred, the natives believed that the Sun had been affronted by the greed. In his anger, he had tossed all the bison that were left into a hole in the ground, never to be seen again.
Bison were a walking supermarket - they supplied almost everything needed for a comfortable existence. Apart from meat, the animal could be used for clothing or part of a tipi cover, ornaments, containers, tools, and for ceremonies. What is more, their droppings - buffalo chips - were always readily available across the prairies to fuel cooking fires when wood was scarce. Bison meat - fresh, dried, or made into pemmican - was supplemented with deer, moose, elk, bear, hare, squirrel, and dogs. Fish and birds were hardly ever eaten. Fish were considered an unclean animal by the tribes who used this area in historic times, an idea that may have originated with earlier inhabitants.
Before any Europeans had ventured onto the prairies, many of the tribes already had metal goods like knives, pots, and arrowheads. News of the men with the pale skin had spread like a prairie grass fire from neighbouring tribes which had some contact with the first traders. The impact of the white man on the Plains Indians was immense, even before the explorers and traders arrived in the west. Guns were the power makers, and soon caused a shift in traditional hunting grounds. They also made hunting the bison much easier.
With the Cree and the Assiniboine pushing from the north, the Blackfoot Confederacy (the Blackfoot, Peigan, and Blood Indians) was forced to move southward. Their vast empire, stretching from the Rocky Mountains to the Alberta-Saskatchewan border and from the North Saskatchewan River to the Missouri River, shrunk. The Blackfoot remained in the Red Deer-Bow River area while the Bloods and Peigans protected the south and west edges of their land. When Sir George Simpson, governor of the Hudson Bay Company, passed through this area in 1841, the Blackfoot were making only the occasional foray near Fort Edmonton.
The Plains Indians were largely ignored in the early days of the fur trade. They already had guns and other European goods and could see little benefit in travelling many days to the posts along the North Saskatchewan River. The traders soon realized that the people of the prairies were not trappers, nor were there many fur-bearing animals in the grasslands. Eventually some trade did occur but this was mainly for meat, buffalo robes, and horses needed for the survival of the forts.
Although the fur traders had some impact on the Blackfoot, it was the whiskey traders who sent the Blackfoot culture into a tailspin. American traders headed north into Canada when they realized that there were no police or army to hamper their illicit activities. The whiskey posts spread from Fort Benton, Montana to Fort Whoop-up near Lethbridge and across the bottom of the province. And with them spread the killing firewater, a concoction of alcohol, red pepper, tobacco juice and other potent ingredients.
Defenceless against this malevolent but intriguing liquid, many natives succumbed to its wiles. After the construction of Fort Whoop-up in the winter of 1869-70, hundreds died of poisoning, freezing while drunk, or were killed in quarrels. Few native families didn't feel the effects of a scourge as bad as smallpox. The deaths continued until the newly-formed North-West Mounted Police moved west to crush the whiskey trade, in time to save the remnants of a threatened culture from extinction.
As the natives began to re-build shattered lives, the first settlers began to trickle into Alberta. Settlements grew around the police forts then spread onto hunting grounds. Ploughs began to break virgin grasslands and bison became ever scarcer. Alarmed at the influx of settlers and fully aware of the land grabs taking place in the United States, the Blackfoot Confederacy petitioned the government of Canada to sign a treaty.
In 1877, Treaty 7, the Blackfoot Treaty, was signed at Blackfoot Crossing, down-river from Calgary on the Bow River. The Blackfoot, Bloods, Peigans, Sarcees, and Stonies agreed to land settlements of one square mile per five people, yearly annuities, an allowance for ammunition, uniforms for the chiefs, hunting rights throughout the lands they had surrendered, and the provision of teachers, cattle, and farming tools. With this insurance for the future, the Blackfoot continued to wander the plains hunting bison. But by 1879, the last animals had been forced in to Montana to escape terrifying grassfires. The Blackfoot followed, only to return to Canada in 1881 - the bison were gone.
The Blackfoot had continued to use the piskun and bison jumps in the Fish Creek Valley until the mid 1700's. No archaeological evidence has been found of more recent use. The new mobility provided by the horse permitted natives to move further afield from their base camps. Perhaps the hunting was better elsewhere, or they were busy protecting their northern lands from the raiding Cree. Whatever the reason, the Fish Creek Valley rested quietly after its intensive use during the past two millennia. A new breed of inhabitants was about to move in.
Hull's Wood is best known for the pretty picnic area shaded by tall poplars. This picnic site is often crowded so if you are looking for a quiet meal try the smaller picnic areas at Bankside, Burnsmead, or Mallard Point. All three are located in nice spots near the Bow River.
At Hull's Wood, Fish Creek flows into the Bow River. The contribution of nutrients from the creek make this a popular spot for fishermen. Great blue herons, belted kingfishers, and terns patrol these waters in search of some of the smaller fish like sticklebacks, minnows, and dace. In the fall, migrating bald eagles may be seen here as well as the occasional osprey.
In the spring, rainbow trout are the first fish to leave the Bow River and swim into Fish Creek to spawn. Many swim well past the park's western boundary in search of the perfect spot to lay their eggs. In early May, longnose and white suckers begin their journey up the creek. The mouth of the creek is a good spot to watch these fish migrations.
A trail from the Bow Valley Ranch Visitor Centre follows the creek to Hull's Wood then continues along the Bow River to Sikome Lake. This trail is the haunt of flycatchers and swallows who perch in the trees then dart out over the water for an insect meal.
Another summer resident of Hull's Wood and the riverine forest is the little brown bat. This mouse-like creature with its diaphanous wings spends its days hanging upside down in a warm dry place like a barn, picnic shelter, or hollow tree. Its survival depends on the sun heating its hiding place. After dark, bats leave their roosts to hunt insects. One bat can catch and eat up to 900 insects in an hour! A colony of little brown bats have been estimated to consume up to 50 kilograms of insects over a summer. That's much more efficient than any bug zapper. They return to their roosts just before sunrise.