Hunters used to pursue game on the snowy landscape by sled or on foot. Today, they can traverse distances by snowmobile, such as this one being driven by David Wolfrey of Rigolet, Nunatsiavut.


Kids these days have no idea of what that would feel like. But I just hope I can go when the ban is lifted.” The caribou hunt wasn’t just the equivalent of a


trip to the grocery across a snowbound landscape in Nunatsiavut, the Inuit autonomous region in north- ern Labrador. “We went out from January through March, after the rivers and lakes had frozen over solid and before the spring mating season began,” said Inez Shiwak, a Canada Post worker and an Inuit community researcher. “Whole families—fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters—went on the expedition. It was beyond food. The parents were passing along tradition and knowledge to the next generation.” Hunting caribou meant traveling—once by


dogsled and now by snowmobile—from the home community to traditional hunting grounds along caribou migration routes. On the way, Inuit hunt- ers would stop to visit friends or relatives in other tiny communities scattered across the landscape. Besides seeking out and shooting caribou, young Inuit learned from their elders the topography, names of places unmarked on maps and traditional travel routes. They observed the dark green of the


20 WINTER 2022 AMERICAN INDIAN


trees, the shapes of the hills and the curving banks of the rivers. They learned where other creatures, those fellow denizens of the north, walked or flew or swam. The hunt developed character, too. As Inuit activ-


ist Sheila Watt-Cloutier put it in a 2006 interview with the Toronto newspaper the Globe and Mail, “Young people are prepared for life through the hunt—how to be patient, to be bold under pressure, to withstand stress, to focus, be tenacious, how not to be impulsive, to be courageous, to exercise sound judgments and, ultimately, how to be wise.”


Sharing the Bounty The Inuit feasted on caribou in myriad ways. Cari- bou meat might be roasted, fried, stewed or turned into soup or even a pizza topping. One particular del- icacy were ringalls, batter-coated patties of chopped caribou meat. Just the thought of “nikku,” or dried caribou meat, brings back memories to elderly Inuit. “We ate caribou almost every other day and always for Sunday dinner.” said Shiwak. “We can’t do that anymore. We’re more dependent now on store food.”


PHOTOS BY DAVID BORISH, COURTESY OF THE HERD PROJECT (2)


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