Bear's Den: "This Grass... is Class"
David Walks-As-Bear
October 11, 2009
Years ago, the northeast of this country was inhabited by various bands of the Indians belonging to nations of the Ottawa, Chippewa and Pottawatomie – "The People of the Three Fires". Sure, and there were many other native nations thereabouts, too, fitted in between the swamps, streams and lakes that continually mingle with the land. Um-hmm, but ya know, in Minnesota – the "Land of a 10,000 Lakes" – there´s a whole heck´ve a lot more puddles than just ten-thousand of ´em. Yes´um, and while Wisconsin may be known as "The Dairy State", I´ll wager that it has more lakes and streams than it does cows and cheese. Sure, and in the old days, Michigan used to carry "Water-Winter-Wonderland" on its license plates because of its abundance. Being peninsular and jutting into the middle of the Great Lakes is only one reason. The firmament of Michigan has more brooks, rivers, lakes, tarns, lagoons and marshland than you can shake a stick at. In fact, it´s almost impossible to drive anywhere in the state and not be close to a body of water. Yes´sir, and water… man, but it makes the man-om-in grow.
Harvested in early to mid-autumn, wild rice was a vital commodity to the Indians of old for both food and trading. Just like a prized milker is to a dairy farmer – wild rice was the ´cash cow´ for many northeastern Indians. It was the currency of trade for nations of Indians who lived in the areas where it grew abundantly – places with lots of watery marshland. The Menominee even took their name from the Indian word for wild rice, "man-om-in", and were often referred to as the "Wild Rice People" by white Europeans. Rice had more value than tame (corn) for trading purposes with those Indians of nations far away because, unlike corn which could be grown anywhere, rice will only prosper where ample marshland exists. This made it truly special to those Indians living near wild rice wetlands.
According to many Indian traditions, wild rice was a special gift to two-leggeds from the Creator. For some nations, when the rice was mature, ceremonies were performed and tobacco was offered to the Great Good Spirit to insure a good harvest. So, you know that man-om-in carries some weight, spiritually. Now, everybody probably knows what rice is – right? Well, if you´re thinking that wild rice is the little dotted mashed-potato-like-looking stuff in the box with ´Uncle Ben´s´ picture on it then you´re likely wrong. White rice is not native to the Americas. It was imported here from the Orient when plantation owners in the Deep South found that it would grow well there in the heated bayous of that region. So, nope. Wild rice is strictly a Native American deal, and it grows wild in fresh water 3-5 foot deep. The kernels that fall to the lake bed begin to germinate and establish roots in mid to late April. It takes about a month for the plant to reach the surface, and, by late June, they reach what´s called the "floating stage". They look like long green ribbons on top of the water. In early July, stalks begin to break the water's surface, and blossoms appear. Then, in late July, the lake has become a marsh.
Depending on the locale and weather conditions, wild rice can ripen in late summer. Long purplish-red colored seed heads will form, and the plant will rise one to three feet above the water. When the seeds are ripe, they will "shatter out,´ or fall away from the stalk. Some Indian nations – depending on the tribe – call September or October the "Ricing Moon". It´s the time when the band traditionally moved to camps on the lakeside to spend their days harvesting and processing the wild rice. This occurrence was much like the move to sugar camps, in the spring, to gather maple syrup.
Now, native wild rice is not a true rice but rather a cereal grass which grows in shallow lakes and streams – places like the deltas where a wide river empties into a larger body of water. Rice was gathered from late summer right through September and early October. Harvesting rice went something like this: in the morning, a husband and wife would set out in their canoe, as would other man/woman teams. The woman sat in the prow of the canoe, facing the rear, while the man usually stood in the stern. Because you couldn´t paddle through the dense rice stalks, the man pushed the canoe with a crotched sapling ten to sixteen-feet long, using it to grip the roots of the rice to push and pull, like a gondola driver in Venice. With a twist of the pole he forced his canoe through the tall stalks. The woman, using a forked cedar stick about three feet long, pulled bunches of rice over the gunwales and, with a shorter stick, knocked the ripened grain into the bottom of the canoe. A good harvest would have the canoe full before long, and they would have to go ashore and unload. Then, they would repeat the process. It was hot and tiresome work, but the teams all moved with a rhythm they had learned as children. This teamwork continued until the harvest was complete.
Once gathered, Indian people boiled rice and ate it with corn, beans, or squash – The Three Sacred Sisters. Um-hmm, and then meat, drippings, or maple sugar were often added for seasoning. It was even parched like popcorn and coated with maple syrup for a treat, too, kind´a like caramel corn. Rice was placed in birch bark containers for storage, but if a family wanted to leave rice in a particular area for their return, later on, they buried a dugout canoe full of it on the sunny slope of a hill so rain water would drain off and not spoil the grain. You betch´a. Rice stored this way could keep for as long as two years. Yeah, I´m an ardent fan of the nipe (water) and one of the reasons is because man-om-in, or wild rice… is kind´a nice.
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David Walks-As-Bear is an Inter-Tribal Elder and Kispoko Shawnee Indian. He works as a private game warden and detective captain, and is a novelist and syndicated newspaper columnist living in Northwest Michigan. Contact him at his home paper: The White Lake Beacon: 231-894-5356 or visit his website at: www.Walks-As-Bear.com
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