Cooper's Ferry Archaeological Site

Now that we’re experiencing subzero weather here in Idaho, I thought it was a good time to reflect on warmer days.  One day in late July, I remembered an article I had read that stated that Oregon State University was excavating a site at Cooper’s Ferry in the Salmon River Canyon near Cottonwood Idaho, and that visitors were welcome to stop by. The site holds some of the earliest evidence of humans in the Pacific Northwest and a team from OSU uses the site as an archeology field school for eight weeks each summer.



View of the Salmon River from the Cooper's Ferry Site

I decided that it was great day to load up the Suburban and visit the dig and enjoy some swimming at one of the beaches nearby.  I invited the neighbor girls and a close friend and her daughter to join my three youngest children and me.  Once the eight seats were filled, we set off on our adventure. Cooper’s Ferry is about an hour’s drive from our house, sufficient time to get everyone excited about what we were going to see. I envisioned the kids digging with trowels, sifting for artifacts, maybe finding an arrowhead.  The area was alive with archaeology students and their instructors.  I parked along the road and went to speak with someone to verify that the kids were welcome to get out and explore. Unfortunately, I was told, the site was only open until 3PM (or maybe it was 2:45) and we had missed it by about five minutes. They were closing down and wrapping things up, setting up security, etc. They did give the kids some quiz cards and invited us to come back during regular hours.

Cooper's Ferry site all closed up and protected for the night.

It was a bit of a disappointment, but the kids were hot and mostly anxious to hit the beach.  The first beach we reached was packed. I decided to continue driving along the Salmon River to what is basically a dead end.  I parked the car and we set off down a well-trod path. Rather than a giant sandy beach like the one we had passed and the kids had been expecting, we arrived at what could best be described as a rock outcropping leading onto a rocky shore swarming with yellow jackets. My friend gave me a dubious look, but we had already hiked down the trail and I was not ready to give up. It turned out to be ideal. We were able to walk along a narrow, underwater sandbar that stretched far out into river, away from the yellow jackets. The bar separated a nice swimming area from the main current of the river. I ordered the kids to stay on the safe side of the bar and they had a blast.

Playing on the sandbar in Salmon River

Coincidentally, a few days later, another friend called and asked if she could take my kids to the beach. I said yes and urged her to stop by the Cooper’s Ferry dig, which she did, and the kids were finally able to enjoy the experience.

The work going on at Cooper’s Ferry is pretty exciting. They’re coming up with some carbon dates and other evidence that could prove that the Clovis People were not the first to inhabit this part of the country as is widely believed. 

OSU's Cooper's Ferry blog:

Archaeological Research at Cooper's Ferry

They have also set up a YouTube channel with video logs and other educational videos related to the Cooper’s Ferry site. Here is an example: 

How is an Archaeological Site Formed

Chief Joseph's Medicine Bag




Chief Joseph

 

A recent story I read about the contents of Chief Joseph’s medicine bag got me reflecting on medicine bags in general.  I had some personal experience with the medicine bag, having sported one myself for most of the nineties.  I met a mountain man my first summer out of high school.  Sporting buckskins and a flowing beard, he told me of the powwow circuit he traveled and showed me the medicine bags that he made and sold, more or less covering his travel expenses.  He sold me what I consider a starter kit, a basic fringed leather pouch on a string containing five essential types of medicine.  He stressed that I not show anyone the contents of my pouch or its medicine would be lost, and I stuck to this rule, until I had kids who insisted I let them explore its contents.  I didn’t wear my bag around my neck, but hung it proudly from my rear view mirror.  I feel it kept me safe in my youthful exploits.  

A Native American medicine bag was and is very personal in nature.  Its supernatural power, or medicine, is meant to protect the owner of the bag.  Its contents are considered sacred and include such things as herbs, stones, gems, minerals, bones, feathers, claws, teeth, etc.  Each of these items has special meaning and power.  Today’s medicine bags can also contain modern items that are meaningful to the owner such as photos, coins, etc.  For the life of me, I can’t seem to recall the contents of my bag other than the button made from antler “that I might always have clothing”.  It must have been powerful medicine because I always went about fully clothed. 

So what did the US Cavalry find in Chief Joseph’s medicine bag when they captured him in 1877?  Surprisingly, an Assyrian cuneiform tablet.  This piece of baked clay, measuring no more than one square inch, was determined to be a bill of sale dating to 2042 BC.  It reads "Nalu received 1 lamb from Abbashaga on the 11th day of the month of the festival of An, in the year Enmahgalanna was installed as high priestess of Nanna".

Mary Gindling of History Mysteries writes:  "The chief said that the tablet had been passed down in his family for many generations, and that they had inherited it from their white ancestors. Chief Joseph said that white men had come among his ancestors long ago, and had taught his people many things. His story echoes those told by Native Americans in both North and South America about white culture bringers. But in this case, Joseph had a souvenir to demonstrate the truth of his story."

I don’t know what else was in the bag, at least history seems to have kept that secret and sacred.  The tablet is rumored to be archived at the museum at West Point in Virginia. As for the bag itself, Benjamin Daniali of AssyriaTimes.com, believes the insignia on Chief Josephs’s bag to be the Star of Ashur, the same insignia used by ancient Mesopotamians and still found on the Assyrian flag.  



Chief Joseph's Medicine Bag

Assyrian Flag

My research of medicine bags eventually led me to Wikipedia where I learned that medicine bags should not be confused with bandolier bags, most frequently associated with the Anishinaabe people, which includes the Ojibwe.  While a medicine bag is meant to be worn across the shoulder (this I did not know—I wore mine around my neck before it replaced my graduation tassel on my rear view mirror), the bandolier is worn across the shoulder, to the side, or in front like an apron.  It is actually quite a stylish looking accessory and I think I would prefer the bandolier as a replacement pouch.  In fact, genetics might dictate that I choose the bandolier.  You see, I may be of Ojibwe descent.  The lineage here is almost as sketchy as the contents of my medicine bag.   My great-grandfather on my father’s side who was adopted.  As I was searching for his birth roots, I came across the usual stumbling blocks, the church that could have held clues in its archives but had burned down and the family friend who when asked what he knew of my great grandfather’s birth family mailed me a genealogical gold mine of Ojibwe royalty and then died before I had a chance to interrogate him.  I still don’t know how my family line ties into this Ojibwe line, but maybe I can keep a copy of it in my bandolier bag.  

Bandolier Bag

photo courtesy of Children's Museum of Indianapolis

To read more about Chief Joseph's cuneiform tablet, visit: Chief Joseph Carried the Star of Ashur, Benjamin Daniali, 4/25/12 http://www.assyriatimes.com/engine/modules/news/article.php?storyid=3461

Native American Rock Art

Being from Idaho, I naturally want to bring at least one of the Timekeepers close to home. While no major civilization arose in my state 4,000 years ago, a fascinating group of people did call this land their home at that time. Early Nez Perce people were hunting and fishing the waterways of North Central Idaho at the same time Hammurabi was passing down his code of laws. I am fortunate to live less than two hours from a phenomenal legacy of a forgotten language. Hundreds of petroglyphs are carved onto basaltic bedrock outcroppings on both sides of the Snake River at Buffalo Eddy. They are easily accessible and unspeakably mesmerizing. This summer I plan to spend several meditative hours on the bank of the river letting their story play itself out in my head before I put it to paper. --Carrie