People of the Deer
– Farley Mowatt
4****
From the Forward - On an evening when the sun hovered above the horizon’s lip, I sat beside a man who was not of my race, and watched a spectacle so overwhelming in its magnitude that I had no words for it.
Below us, on the undulating darkness of the barren plains, a tide of life flowed out of the dim south and engulfed the world, submerged it so that it sank beneath a living sea. The very air was heavy with the breath of life itself. There was a sound of breathing and of moving that was like a rising wind. It was as if the inanimate and brutal crust of rock had been imbued with the essential spark and had risen from its ageless rigidity to claim the rights of life.
Farley Mowatt went into the vast Barren Plains of North central Canada to study the caribou, and the Ihalmiut people who depended on “the deer” for their very existence. He lived among them in the late 1940s, when their tribe had dwindled from several thousand in about 1900 to less than 50 individuals in 1947. Mowatt examines the various factors that led to the demise of The People of the Deer in this fascinating book.
He spends a significant part of the book imparting some of the traditional stories of the Ihalmiut people, and when so doing, uses a completely different style and syntax. I felt as if I were sitting by a campfire, listening to an oral history; I was captivated and intrigued. But I still preferred those section when Mowatt was writing as himself. His writing about the landscape is poetic, and puts me smack dab in the middle of the Barrens with him. For example:
There was an absolute and tangible silence, broken only by the fluid dip of paddles and the gentle mutter of water underneath the bow of the canoe. The lake itself was frozen in the dead, unearthly grip of perfect calm.
Islands rose suddenly before us, like surfacing sea monsters. They appeared soundlessly, lifted clear of the horizon, then floated faintly in the sky as their mirage images dissolved. The shore drew away from us and twisted so that its low, uncertain progress gave us no clear conception of whether it was one mile or ten miles away. Angkuni lost all semblance of reality and of concrete form. Its shores and islands had an amorphous quality which defied the eye and left the mind with no clear memory of what has passed astern of the canoe.
The events described in the book occurred nearly 70 years ago, and I have little idea how things may have changed (or if they have changed at all) for the Ihalmiut and other native peoples. I could not help but think about global warming, the loss of habitat, the expansion of technology, etc. in the 21st century. The time of the People of the Deer must surely be past, and that saddens me.