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JOURNAL STAFF 

EDITOR: Eugene S. Hunn, Department of Anthropology, Box 353100, University of Washington, Seattle, WA 
98195-3100 (hunn@u.washington.edu) 

ASSOCIATE EDITOR (Spanish): Alejandro de Avila B., A. P. 533, Oaxaca, Oaxaca C.P. 68000, MEXICO 
(serbo@antequera.com) 

NEWS & COMMENTS EDITOR: Gary J. Martin, People and Plants Initiative, B.P. 262, Marrakesh-Medina, 
MOROCCO (100427.1260@compuserve.com) 

BOOK REVIEW Sandra Peacock, Depart t of Geography and School of Environmental Studies, 
University of Victoria, Victoria, BC V8W 2Y2 C ANADA (sf k@offi vic.ca) 


SOCIETY OFFICERS 


PRESIDENT: Nancy J. Turner, School of Environmental Studies, University of Victoria, Victoria, BC V8W 2Y2 CANADA 
PRESIDENT-ELECT: Deborah M. Pearsall, American Archaeology Division, University of Missouri, Columbia, 
211 


SECRETARY/TREASURER: Gayle J. Fritz, Department of Anthropology, Washington University, St. Louis, MO 
99 


CONFERENCE ¢ Mollie S. Toll, University of New Mexico, Albuquerque, NM 
BOARD OF TRUSTEES 

Eugene N. Anderson, University of California, Riverside, CA 

Enrique Salmon, Baca Institute of Ethnobiology, Crestone, CO 

Gail Wagner, University of South Carolina, Columbia, SC 


E 
Past presidents: Steven A. Weber, Amadeo M. Rea, Elizabeth S. Wing, Paul Minnis, Cecil Brown, and 
atherine S. Fowler. Permanent board member Steven D. Emslie. The editor, president, president-elect, 
secretary /treasurer, and conferenc dinat 


EDITORIAL BOARD 
Karen R. Adams, Crow Canyon Archaeological Center, Cortez, CO: paleoethnobotany. 
Eugene N. Anderson, University of California, Riverside, CA: ethnobotany, China, Maya. 
Scott Atran, CNRS, Paris, FRANCE: ethnobiological classification, cognition, history of science, Maya. 
Brent Berlin, University of Georgia, Athens, : ethnobiological classification, medical ethnobotany, Maya. 
Robert A. Bye, Jr., Jardin Botanico, Universidad Nacional Auténoma de México, México, D.F., MEXICO: ethno- 
botany, Mexico. 
H. Sorayya Carr, El Cerrito, California: zooarchaeology. 
Nina Etkin, University of Hawaii, Honolulu, HI: medical ethnobotany, the Pacific. 
Gayle J. Fritz, Washington University, St. Louis, MO: paleoethnobotany. 
David R, Harris, University College, London, ENGLAND: ethnoecology, subsistence systems, archaeobotany. 
Terence E. Hays, Rhode Island College, Providence, RI: ethnobiology, Papua New Guinea. : 
Chris Healey, Northern Territory University, Darwin, AUSTRALIA: ethnozoology, Australia and New Guinea. 
Timothy Johns, Macdonald College of McGill University, Quebec, CANADA: chemical ecology, ethnobotany, East 
Afri 


ica. 

Harriet V. Kuhnlein, McGill University, Quebec, CANADA: ethno/human nutrition, First Nations of Canada. 

Brien A. Meilleur, Center for Plant Conservation, Missouri Botanical Garden, St. Louis, MO: ethnoecology, plant 
conservation, ethnobotanical gardens. 

Gary Nabhan, Arizona Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson, AZ: ethnobiology, Sonoran desert cultures. ND: 

Darrell A. Posey, Oxford Centre for the Environment, Ethics, and Society, Oxford University, Oxford, ENCLAS 
natural resource management, ethnoecology, tropical cultural ecology. 


zy, Zooarchaeology, ethnotaxonomics. 


, Albuquerque, NM: prehistori and historic ethnobiology. 
: : : 4 “ and 
The Journal of Ethnobiology is published semi-annually. Manuscripts for publication, information for the “News 


” ; ; he over of 
Omments” and book review sections should be sent to the appropriate editors as listed on the inside back 
this issue. 


© Society of Ethnobiology 
ISSN 0278-0771 


pee cere ounbasan Mari Elena Cruz Hernandez of San Juan Mixtepec, Oaxaca, Mexico (see chickens 
: ee ke tile inwue) is collecting cones of Pinus teocote which she will use to represent the family 5 . 4 
a a for a fruitful year. This ceremony is conducted on the summit of a mountain near town during er 
the ve oh oly Cross, May 3 each year. Families climb to the summit, leave offerings at a dry well there 

Boot honee of nguati, the Zapotec god of lightning, petitioning the release of the rains. 


VOLUME 18, NUMBER 1 


gs 
ae 
® oe a 
Journal of 
Ethnobiology 
SUMMER 1998 


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Oe Te Sere ae ee 


CONTENTS 


ETHNOBIOTICA ¥ 


AUTHOR PROFILES vi 


FOLK TAXONOMY AND CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE OF “ABEIA” 
(INSECTA, HYMENOPTERA) TO THE PANKARARE, NORTHEASTERN 
BAHIA STATE, BRAZIL 

Eraldo Medeiros Costa-Neto 1 


MAINTENANCE OF FERTILITY OF SHALE SOILS IN A TRADITIONAL 
AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM IN CENTRAL INTERIOR PORTUGAL 
George F. Estabrook 15 


INCANTATIONS AND HERBAL MEDICINES: ALUNE ETHNOMEDICAL 
KNOWLEDGE IN A CONTEXT OF CHANGE 
Margaret J. Florey and Xenia Y. Wolff 39 


CLASSIFICATION AND NOMENCLATURE IN WITSUWIT’EN 
ETHNOBOTANY: A PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION 
Leslie M. Johnson-Gottesfeld and Sharon Hargus 69 


AN ETHNOBOTANICAL ACCOUNT OF THE VEGETATION 
COMMUNITIES OF THE WOLA PROVINCE, SOUTHERN HIGHLANDS 
PROVINCE, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 


Paul Sillitoe 103 
RECENT DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS OF INTEREST TO 
ETHNOBIOLOGISTS XV 

Terrence E. Hays 129 


ABSTRACTS OF PRESENTATIONS at the 21* Annual onsen of the Society of 
Ethnobiology, University of Nevada, Reno, 15-18 April 1998 137 


NEWS AND COMMENTS 153 


BOOK REVIEWS 
Wild Plants and Native Peoples of the Four Corners, 
by William W. Dunmire and Gail D. Tierney 
Elaine Joyal 14 


People, Plants, and Landscapes: Studies in Paleoethnobotany, 

Kristen J. Gremillion, editor 

George P. Nicholas 33 
Of Marshes and Maize: Preceramic Agricultural Settlements in the Cienega 
Valley, Southeastern Arizona, 

by Bruce Huckell 

James Schoenwetter 36 


Population Dynamics of a Philippine Rain Forest People: The San Ildefonso 
Agta, by J. D. Early and T. N. Headland 
Darron Asher Collins 67 


At the Desert’s Green Edge. An Ethnobotany of the Gila River Pima, 
by Amadeo M. Rea 
Nancy J. Turner 154 


Indigenous Peoples and the Future of Amazonia. An Ecological 
Anthropology of an Endangered World, Leslie E. Sponsel, editor 

Diego Rivera and Concepcion Obén 156 
Potions, Poisons, and Panaceas: An Ethnobotanical Study of Montserrat, 

by David Eric Brussell 

Michael K. Steinberg 157 


NEW BOOKS FOR REVIEW 160 


ETHNOBIOTICA 


Those of us who have worked with Native American or First Nations communities in 
North American are in the habit of honoring the elders as repositories of a precious heri- 
tage of environmental knowledge and wisdom. The unfortunate truth is that the younger 
generations rarely have had the opportunity to master the intricacies of this traditional 

owledge nor to learn through practice the value of that knowledge. Witness reports in 
this issue of the Journal of Ethnobiology: Estabrook’s requiem for a peasant agricultural sys- 
tem in Portugal and Florey and Wolff’s account of the suppression of traditional healing 
ritual and associated use of plant medicines on Seram, eastern Indonesia. However, this is 
not everywhere the case. I have been heartened by my t in Oaxaca, Mexico 
where the initial phase of my Zapotec ethnobiology is nearly done. The village of San Juan 
Mixtepec is the focus of this study. It appears to be a rather average Mexican peasant town, 
still heavily dependent on subsistence agriculture, planting the famous Mesoamerican 
staples, corns, beans, and squash. The setting is typically dramatic: perched on a ledge of 
the Sierra Madre del Sur with pine forest at its back; a sweep of arid subtropical woodland 
and cultivated lands below. Yet like many rural communities in Oaxaca, it is losing popu- 
lation; the young people leave seeking cash employment or in pursuit of education. Still 
the community retains a powerful hold on its children. Virtually all are proud to speak 
Zapotec as their first language. 

San Juan has its elders, of course, several in their 90s. But what most impressed me is 
the children. Let me introduce you to one, Mari Elena, who turned 13 last August. She’s a 
fourth grader in the village primary school; the youngest of five daughters of Rosalia 
Hernandez and Candido Cruz. Her next older sister, Justina, just graduated from the local 
secondary school and has left to go live with another sister in the city of Tehuantepec, help- 
ing her in her business. Justina served as my assistant last year, helping with plant collec- 
tions, as had the eldest daughter, Inez Virgen. Inez now lives in a coastal town, but her 
daughter, Lilia, who is seven, has stayed behind, largely in the care of Mari Elena, her aunt. 

This past summer with the onset of the rains and the initial weeding of their milpas, 
Mari Elena got the idea to bring me bags of plants each evening, recounting their names 
and uses, for which she paaseuael a few pesos. I warned her that I only wanted different 
plants; no duplicates. For two ing nearly every g came the soft knock on 
my door. Mari Elena with one or more of her younger kin, each clutching a bag of plants. I 
dropped what I was doing, dumped the plants out on the patio, and did a “rapid environ- 
mental assessment” on the spot, one plant at a time: Zhaw IE guizh ri? “What is this plant 
called?” Then, Par ne rquina? “What is it used for?” I could identify maybe half the plants 
to genus and/or species; the rest were just leaves. Day by day the total mounted, reaching 
686 the night before my departure for the states. Toward the end there was some duplica- 
tion as other children tried to get a piece of the action. Once I had four —. contending 
for my attention. When her turn came Lilia would blurt out th f her plant, on occa- 
sion gently corrected by Mari Elena. Analyzing the resulting list showed that Mari Elena 
and Lilia used 369 distinct names for 471 plants specimens and made virtually no errors. 
Based on this rather casual experiment, I believe it is fair to estimate Lilia’s repertoire of 
distinct plant names at over 300; Mari Elena’s at over 500! I doubt they are unusual in this 
regard amongst their peers. Ironically, Mari Elena is two years behind where she should be 
in school. Her father reports that she is unhappy there. I am certain her teachers have no 
inkling of her intellectual gifts nor of her passion for plants. At least Mari Elena has not let 
school interfere with her botanical education. 

Could it be that children are born to learn plant names? Only if they are deprived of 
the opportunity does this gift wither and go unfulfilled. 

kino 


> sauces 


AUTHOR PROFILES 


Eraldo Medeiros Costa-Neto is Professor of Ethnobiology 
at Feira de Santana State University, Bahia, Brazil. He holds 

Sc. in Environment and Development from the Fed- 
eral University of Alagoas, which he received in 1998. 
Eraldo is a founding member of the Brazilian Society of 
Ethnobiology and Ethnoecology (SBEE), and serves as trea- 
surer of that organization. 


George Frederick Estabrook graduated in 1964 from 
Dartmouth College, where he studied botany with Karl 
Wilson and mathematics with John G. Kemeney. He was one 
of Stanislaw Ulam’s last graduate students at the Univer- 
sity of Colorado, where he applied combinatorial math- 
ematics to the study of evolution. In 1970, he joined the fac- 
ulty of the University of Michigan, where he is now Re- 
search Scientist in the University Herbarium and Professor 
of Botany in the Biology Department. He became involved 
in the Portuguese speaking world through participation in 
the ambitious project to computerize the Brazilian flora 
1975-1979. In the early 1980s he worked with ecologists and 
agronomists in Italy and Portugal, where he observed a 
relationship between plant ecology and human culture in 
rural subsistence economies. He returned to Portugal for 
Serta: ost eggs d 1987, 71, and 1994 to study sub- 

d i year 1997/8 as 
a Visitir 1g E Professor in the Anthropology Department of the 
University of Coimbra, Portugal, to study the relationship 


between culture and technology in traditional agriculture. | 


Dr. Margaret J. Florey is a lecturer in the Linguistics De- 
partment of La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia. She 
has undertaken extensive linguistic and ethnographic re- 
search among the Alune people of west Seram in eastern 
Indonesia. She has previous research experience with Ab- 
original languages in northwest Australia as linguist with 
two Aboriginal language centers. Dr. Florey is currently 
undertaking research into a number of moribund languages 
of Seram, and is also working with remaining speakers of 
these languages among the migrant Moluccan population 
in the Netherlands. Dr. Xenia Y. Wolff is a horticulturist and 
ethnobotanist with work and research experience in Hawaii, 
the U.S. mainland, and Indonesia. She is presently work- 
ine an eth 1 Sint es Ae a ee +h, + Asian 


region. She has worked as a research horticulturist for the 
USDA-Agricultural Research Service and as Assistant Pro- 
fessor in the Center for Small Farm Research and Depart- 
ment of Plant and Soil Sciences, Southern University in 
Louisiana. 


eRe a ee oe 


Leslie M. Johnson-Gottesfeld is Grant-Notley postdoctoral 
fellow and an associate of the Department of Anthropology 
and the Canadian Circumpolar Institute at the University 
of Alberta, Canada. Her research and publications have fo- 
cused on ethnobotany, traditional healing, and 
ethnoecology of indigenous peoples of neciwenter 2 alee 


tal perception by indigenous beta of northwestern 
Canada, Earlier publications appeared. under the surname 
G found under the surname 
Johnson. Sharon Hargus i is associate professor of Linguis- 
tics at the University of Washington. Her research interests 
include phonology, phonetics, and morphology, with spe- 
cialization in the Athabascan language family. She is cur- 
rently putting finishing touches on a book, The Phonology 
and Morphology of Witsuwit’en, for the University of British 
Columbia Press. 


Paul Sillitoe is Professor of Anthropology at Durham Uni- 
versity (Durham, DH1 3HN, U.K.). He has qualifications in 
both natural science and anthropology with a Ph.D. (1976) 
from the University of Cambridge. His current research 
interests focus on natural resources management, technol- 
ogy and development. He has conducted extensive field- 
work in Papua New Guinea, where he is known for first 


. oO rt eA 
a 1 < as ee 5H y a ps 5 ay as : 1 = | 


Give and Take: Exchange in Wola Society (New York: St. 
Martin’s Press, 1979), Roots of the Earth: The Cultivation and 
Classification of Crops in the Papua New Guinea Highlands 
(Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1983), Made in 
Niugini: Technology in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea 
(London: British Museum Publications, 1988), The Bogaia of 
the Muller Ranges, Papua New Guinea: Land Use, Agriculture 
and Society of a Vulnerable Population (Sydney: Oceania 
Monograph 44, 1994), A Place Against Time: Land and Envi- 
ronment in the Papua New Guinea Highlands (Amsterdam: 
Harwood Academic [Gordon & Breach], 1996), and An In- 
troduction to the Anthropology of Melanesia: Culture and Tradi- 
tion (Cambridge University Press, 1998). 


Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):1-13 Summer 1998 


OLK TAXONOMY AND CULTURAL sullen OF 
“ABEIA” (INSECTA, HYMENOPTERA) TO THE PANKARARE, 
NORTHEASTERN BAHIA es BRAZIL 


ERALDO MEDEIROS COSTA-NETO 
Departamento de Ciéncias Biolégicas 
Universidade Estadual de Feira de Santana 
Km 3, BR 116, Av. Universitaria 
Feira de Santana, Bahia, Brasil. Cep 44031-460 
eraldont@ulfs.br 


ABSTRACT.— This paper focuses on the ethnotaxonomy and significance of bees 
and wasps to the Pankararé Indians living in a semi-arid zone of the Northeast of 
the State of Bahia, Brazil. The survey was conducted with the Pankararé from 
Brejo do Burgo village. Data were obtained by using ethnoscientific methods and 
through open interviews with natives and a native specialist in ethnoapiculture. 
A total of 23 folk species were recorded within the folk category “abeia,” the label 
used for both Apidae and Vespidae. Considering the ethnotaxonomic aspects, 
“abeias” are classified in two groups as “fierce bees” and “mild bees”. They are 
also sub-divided into three intermediate taxa depending upon whether or not 
they sting and, if so, if they can sting repeatedly. Eleven folk species are sources of 
medicine. Wild honey is the main raw material used in the treatment os —— 
and as food. Honey i is also an f income for the Pankararé. These 
insects play significant roles in . the social, snineneieel, and cultural life of this 
roup. 


RESUMO. Gat tig f. 4 =i 4 4 : é E rE] i A g Sees | vespas 
para os indios Pankararé, grupo residente em uma regiao do semi-arido do 
Nordeste do Estado da Bahia, Brasil. O estudo foi realizado com os Pankararé da 
aldeia Brejo do Burgo. Os dados foram obtidos seguindo-se métodos da 
etnociéncia, mediante erty istas abertas com oe e especialista em 


etnoapicultura. Um total de das e “abeia” é 0 rétulo 
usado para apideos e vespideos. Considerando aspectos asinine, as 
“abeias” sao classificadas em “abeias-brabas” e “abeias-mansas”. Elas também 


sao divididas em trés familias folk deoclends da posse do ferrao. Onze 

tnoespécies sao fontes de remédio e o mel silvestre é a principal matéria-prima 
utilizada no tratamento das enfermidades e como alimento. Mel é também uma 
importante fonte de insumos para os Pankararé. Observou-se que esses insetos 
desempenham significativos papéis na vida social, econémica e cultural desse 
grupo indigena. 


RESUME. — Cet article porte sur l’ethnotaxinomie et V'importance des abeilles et 
des guépes pour les. indie ens Pankarare gui pabitent une région semi-aride du 
nord-est de I’Etat ia au Brésil. L’é S&F 


2 COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 


de Brejo do Burgo. Les données ont été obtenues au moyen de méthodes 
ethnoscientifiques et d’entrevues semi-dirigées menées auprés des autochtones 
et d’un spécialiste autochtone en ethnoapiculture. L’enquéte a révélé vingt-trois 
espéces d’“abeia”, la catégorie laire utilisé désigner a la fois les apidés 
et les vespidés. Cette catégorie comporte deux groupes nommés respectivement 
“abeia-braba” et “abeia-mansa”. Le taxon “abeia” est également subdivisé en trois 
taxons de niveau intermédiaire définis en fonction des espéces qui piquent ou 
non et, le cas échéant, si elles le font de fagon répétée. Onze espéces vernaculaires 
servent a préparer des médicaments. Le miel sauvage est la principale matiére 
premiere utilisée dans le traitement des maladies et comme aliment. Le miel 
constitue également une source de revenus importante pour les Pankararé. Les 
abeilles et les guépes jouent un rdle significatif dans la vie sociale, économique et 
culturelle de ce groupe amérindien. 


INTRODUCTION 


Amerindian peoples possess an ethnobiological } ledg lated over 
hundreds of years of interaction with nature. This is shown by the diversity of 
lationship intain with animals and plants in the localities where 
they live. Insects have played important roles in the social, economic, and cultural 
systems of many traditional, non-industrial peoples (Gudger 1925; Weiss 1947; 
Coimbra 1985; Posey 1979, 1986, 1987; Ramos-Elorduy 1987; Ribeiro and Kenhiri 
1987; Dufour 1987; Ratcliffe 1988; Ramos-Elorduy and Pino 1988; Starr and Wille 
1988; Camargo and Posey 1990; Setz 1991; Hunn 1997). Social insects, in particular, 
have had outstanding significance due to their social nature and behavioral pat- 
terns (Posey 1986). The study on the perception, knowledge, and uses of insects 
by human societies is the subject matter of ethnoentomology, a branch of 
ethnozoology (Posey 1987). 

The Brazilian Northeast is characterized by a widespread semi-arid climate 
with a deciduous, woody vegetation dominated by thorny cacti and bromeliad 
species that comprise what is traditionally called caatinga (‘white forest’ in the 
Tupi language). In this geographical area human populations have adapted to 
very severe drought periods ranging from five-nine months annually. Today, there 
are 23 Brazilian indigenous groups living in the semi-arid zone or in transitional 
areas (ANAI 1981). Most are subject to p ful acculturati pressure from white 
society (Ribeiro 1987). Despite this cultural richness, the vast majority of 
ethnobiological surveys have been traditionally conducted with indigenous tribes 
and caboclos (‘peasants’) in the Amazon basin and surroundings. Studies of north- 
east Brazilian indigenous ethnobiology are generally limited to ethnobotany 
(Bandeira 1972; Mota 1987). The only available ref eoneth | is a brief 


ra) 1T. | 
tUildt 


; S, 
- ho are obligated to adapt to great periods of drought. Althought studies have 
een carried out on bees in this ecosystem, especially Apis mellifera (Castro 1994; 


Spring 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 3 


Martins 1990; Aguiar 1995; Martins and Aguilar 1992; Ducke 1907), there are no 
surveys about bee ethnobiology and ethnotaxonomy. 

Posey (1987) argues that traditional knowledge about ecology and biological 
diversity can generate new ideas to the complement Western scientific knowledge 
of these phenomena. In that spirit, I record here the ethnotaxonomic aspects of 
social insects of the order Hymenoptera (excluding ants) and their importance to 
the Pankararé Indians from the northeastern region of Brazil. 


THE COMMUNITY 


Studies on the Pankararé began in the 1970s and they resulted in the recogni- 
tion of this group as an indigenous community. According to Pinto (1991), the 
Pankararé seem to be descendants of the Gé Indians. However, the Pankararé are 
now highly acculturated through mixing with peoples of different cultural and 
linguistic groups. 

The Pankararé are an undifferentiated linguistic unit restricted to the north- 
eastern portion of the State of Bahia, Brazil. Most of the Pankararé (900 individuals) 
live at Brejo do Burgo village which is situated at the edges of the Raso da Catarina 
Ecological Station (Figure 1). This is the driest region of Bahia State with a mean 
annual temperatura of about 27°C and rainfall about 400 mm per year (CEI 1994). 


RASO DA CATARINA 


Rodelas 


Brazil 


FIGURE 1.—Map showing location of the Brejo do Burgo village where the study 
was undertaken. 


- COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 


Information on geology is found in Almeida and Figueiroa (1984). Their territory 
is a predominantly caatinga area. 

People are distributed in small familial agricultural groups around Brejo do 
Burgo village. The main crops are maize, bean, and manioc, cultivated both for 
home consumption and for market exchange. This activity is conducted in the 
rainy months (April to August) due to more propitious conditions of the soil and 
water availability. The main protein sources are goat, pig, and chicken meat. How- 
ever, they complement their dietary needs with game, honey, and wild fruits (imbu 
[Spondias tuberosa, Anacardiaceae]; murici [Byrsonima gardneriana, Malpighiaceae]; 
licuri [Syagrus coronata, Arecaceae]; and castanha-de-caju [Anacardium occidentale, 
Anacardiaceae]) (Maia 1992). Young people have been migrating to the larger cit- 
ies for ti ploy t. Data concerning educational and political issues 
were not collected for this study. 


METHODS 


The observations reported here are based on fieldwork performed during 
monthly visits of about three days each from July to November 1995 with Indians 
of the Brejo do Burgo village. Fourteen individuals (nine men and five women) 18- 
67 years old were interviewed. Males proved to be more knowledgeable about 
folk names and behavioral traits of each specimen than the females. This is pre- 
sumably because the men hunt game and collect wild honey. Only one native 
specialist in ethnoapiculture has been questioned, who was the major consultant 
(Afonso Pankararé, 42 years old). Interviews were conducted in Portuguese since 
the Pankararé are bilingual in this language. Consultants were all literate to some 
degree; they made their living by farming livestock (goats and pigs), and by plant- 
ing corn, manioc, beans, watermelon, and cantaloup, which are marketable 
products. In addition, they harvest honey for their own use or for sale. Unfortu- 
nately, linguistic data were not collected in the indigenous language. However, 
most terms are Portuguese and, with few exceptions, are used by both the Pankarareé 
and other rural peoples throughout Brazil. 

Data were obtained through open interviews and by noting folk taxonomic 
features and uses of bees and wasps reported by the Pankararé. The “emic” ap- 
proach focuses on the native people; the way they organize, perceive, use, and 
manage their natural resources, without imposing the researcher’s Western cat- 
egories (Sturtevant 1964; Posey 1986). 

Insects were collected at their nests or as they were visiting flowers by using 
entomological nets, and then were preserved in 70% alcohol. The indigenous con- 
sultants identified them before and after they were captured. Specimens were 
shown to the Indians in order to ask about folk names, basic uses, whether they 
were kept for honey or not, their behavior and presence in mythology, folklore or 
eee They were later mounted on pins at the Laboratory of Entomology of 

eira de Santana State University, and then sent to experts to be identified. Speci- 
mens other than eusocial Apidae and Polistinae Vespidae were also collected. 
Altogether, thirty specimens were collected. 

Pi species were identified by Dr. Oton Marques, of the Agricultural School 
of Bahia Federal University; bee species were identified by Dr. Marina Siqueira, 


Spring 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 5 


Department of Biology of Feira de Santana State University. Though specimens of 
manduri, mané-de-abreu, mandassaia, and exui were not found during fieldwork, 
their scientific names are tentatively given here based on the Brazilian insect folk 
names catalogued (Lenko and Papavero 1979; Buzzi 1994). Vouchers were depos- 
ited at the laboratory cited above. 


RESULTS AND DISCUSSION 


The present study on the Pankararé ethnoapiculture has revealed important 
aspects of their traditional entomological knowledge. At least 23 categories of in- 
sects are classified as abeias (“bees”) by the Pankararé Indians, who put together 
under this label those hymenopterans that produce and store honey (eusocial, 
melliferous bees and wasps). The word “bee” appears here in quotes in order to 
contrast it with “bee,” as normally used, since this latter term properly designates 
only the superfamily Apoidea, excluding wasps. All “bees” are believed to be en- 
chanted living organisms and are protected from human exploitation by guardian 
spirits of plants and animals called encantados. As Bandeira (1993) notes, the 
Pankararé have a very accurate ethnotaxonomy of “bees.” The precision of their 
description addresses morphological and adaptative details. For example, the lo- 
cal specialist says that these insects carry pollen (saburd) on their legs. It is known 
that Apidae evolved the curbicula or pollen basket, a derived structural modifica- 
tion of the hind tibia which is used to transport pollen, wax, resin, and other 
substances. The Pankararé also know from which plants “bees” have taken pollen 
by observing the color and taste of honeys. As the informants say: 


“... here is the sabura (pollen). It is from this little yellow mass that honey is 
made. It comes from the juice of the flower ... Bee does not make honey 
with other thing. All bees make honey from the juice [that is, the pollen] of 
the flower. Larvae food is sabura”. 


All human groups answer to the biological diversity i in their environments by 
grouping plants an in labeled 
categories (Brown and Chase 1981). Following Berlin’s principles of ¢ categoriza- 
tion (Berlin 1992), the term abeia or “bee” is at the life-form rank. In contrast to 
what has been noted in most other ethnobiological classification systems, the most 
inclusive taxon — the kingdom rank — is named and labeled animali (‘animal’), 
thus “bees” and the rest of the faunal categories fit beneath this label. The life form 
taxon abeia is, in turn, divided into two intermediate categories. If a “bee” shows 
an aggressive defensive behavior it is labeled a “fierce bee” (abeia braba in Portu- 
guese). This category includes the honeybee Apis mellifera, seven species of social 
vespids of the Epiponini tribe (carton nest species), and one species of the 
Meliponinae locally named arapud (Trigona spinipes). If not aggressive, they are 
referred to as “mild bee” species (abeia mansa). These are all meliponines (sting- 
less bees). This distinction implies the manner by which the Indians deal with 
wasps and bees. They burn green wood near a nest or hive of the fierce species to 
keep away or to kill the adults. Then they harvest the honey, wax, and larvae. 

It is worth noting that these insects are classified in three intermediate taxa 


6 COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 1.— Pankararé taxonomic classification of wasps and bees (Insecta: Hy- 
menoptera) placed in the “bee” life form, showing intermediate categories of folk 
families according to their aggressive behavior. 


Intermediates Folk genera and species (scientific species) fierce mild 

Exu’s line (Vespidae, Polistinae, Epiponini) 
cangota (Polybia occidentalis) 
caraquile (Polybia paulista ) 
exu-de-cachorro (Protopolybia exigua exigua) 
exu-preto (Polybia ignobilis) 
exu-verdadeiro (Brachygastra lecheguana) 
exut (Polybia sp. 
tarantanta (Polybia sericea) 

Oropa’s line (Apidae, Apinae) 
oropa (Apis mellifera scutellata) 

Arapud’s line (Apidae, Meliponinae) 
abeia-branca-do-fundinho-branco (Frieseomellita silvestrii) 
abeia-branca-do-fundinho-vermeio (Frieseomellita silvestrii) 
arapua-macho (Trigona spinipes) 
arapua-fémea (Trigona spinipes) 
cupira-boca-de-barro (Partamona cupira) 
cupira-boca-de-berruga (Partamona cupira) 
mandassaia (Melipona quadrifasciata ?) 
manduri (Melipona rufiventris ?) 
mané-de-abreu (Frieseomelitta varia ?) 
mosquito-preto (Plebeia mosquito) 
mosquito-remela (Friesella schrottkyi) 
mosquito-verdadeiro (Tetragona angustula) 
papa-terra (Cephalotrigona capitata ?) 
trombeta (Plebeia sp.) 
urucu (Melipona scutellaris) 


~. RR me ee 
~ >< 


~ 


PR PS OS OK OOK OS OS OS DS OM OM 


usually designated as “exu’s line”, 
both this intermediate position and the generic rank. The honeybee (Apis mellifera 
scutellata) by itself comprises “orop 
use. As one informant (Afonso Panakararé) stated: 


“Exu-verdadeiro, cangota, tarantanta, cara 
all the same bite, the same sting, 
than one time.... The sting of an 
you it leaves its sting on you a 
other sting is not born.” 


quile, exu-preto, and exui have 
and the same line. They can bite you more 
oropa is different, more simple. If one bites 
nd it cannot bite you any more because an 


The third folk intermediate group 


thet ing is formed by 15 folk species of stingless 
‘bee,” it is referred to as “arapu 


a's line”. The first two lines include the “fierce 


Spring 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 7 


bees”; the last is equivalent to the mild ones. Though arapud is identified as ag- 
gressive it lacks a sting. 

Drones and workers are not distinguished but a “master bee” (abeia mestra) 
is. Consultants recognize that all “bees” have a master living inside the nest; it is 
distinguished from the others by its larger size. This is presumably the queen. 

The material and cultural significance of “bee” resources along with the sting- 
ing behavior of some types may explain the fine recognition of categories within 
these folk families. The indigenous classification of social hymenopterans in lines 
shows an impressive one-to-one d to the scientific families of West- 
ern taxonomy (see Table 1). The taxa included are distinguished by morphological 
and behavioral criteria, such as shape and size, color pattern, nesting behavior, 
hive structure, arrangement of honey in combs, honey production, fierceness, etc. 

In contrast, the social vespids with open nests, the “true” wasps (Polistes and 
Apoica spp.), are set apart as maribondo. Since these wasps do not produce honey 
the Pankararé do not harvest them for food, but instead use their nests as medi- 
cine to treat dizziness, asthma, and stroke. As the Pankararé say, 

“maribondo-chapéu (Apoica pallens) and maribondo-caboclo (Polistes canadensis 
canadensis) are not ‘bees’ because they do not p ” Hymenopteran speci- 
mens other than the Apidae and Polistinae (Vespidae), such as potter wasps, 
carpenter bees, ground-nesting, solitary bees, and wasps were all classified as 
“beetles,” and some specimens lack folk names. The ethnotaxonomy of these in- 
sects has not been completely analyzed and will not be discussed here. 


Pankararé nomenclature and Berlin's general principles — The construction of specific 
names in folk systematics is regularly binominal with the folk generic name modi- 
fied by an adjective which often designates some obvious morphological character. 
Monominal specific names are also found in folk taxonomies, but when they occur 
they are polysemous with respect to the superordinate generic. The distinction be- 
tweena y named folk specific taxon and its superordinate 
generic may be made explicit by the use of a marking attributive that may be ren- 
dered as ‘real’, ‘original’, ‘best looking’, or ‘true’ (Berlin 1992:90-96). Two examples 
of prototypical folk specific taxa have appeared in the Pankararé ethnotaxonomy. 
Exu-verdadeiro (‘true exu’ Brachygastra lecheguana) is a short-bodied and dark-col- 
ored social wasp, with yellow transverse bands on the tip of the abdomen. This folk 
the I sting and the quantity of honey 
which it stores. Two others folk species ‘included i in the exu folk genus are exu-de- 
cachorro (‘dog’s exu’ Protopolybia exigua exigua) and exu-preto (‘black exu’ Polybia 
ignobilis). Their nests are made of cow dung and are considered to be medicinal 
(Table 2). The other prototypical folk specific is described as mosquito-verdadeiro 
(‘true mosquito’, Tetragona angustula) and, according to Atenor Pankararé (55 years 
old), this typical form is said to produce 1 more honey than its neighbors, mosquito- 
remela (’ y mosquito’, Friesell ito-preto (‘black mosquito’, 
Plebeia mosquito). Some informants stated ‘that mosquito-verdadeiro makes about 
one liter of honey whereas mosquito-preto only produces half that. These tiny sting- 
less bees are attracted to human perspiration and they usually nest in small hollow 
logs. Their honey is taken as medicine. 
Naming by binary contrast is a common linguistic feature where a primary 


8 COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 


lexeme is modified to form two secondary lexemes according to an obvious se- 
mantic dimension. Three sets of specific taxa are formed by this process in the 
Pankararé entomological classification system. The folk specific taxa included in 
folk generic abeia-branca are clearly marked by binary contrast in which the color 
pattern of the abdomen is the main semantic dimension. While abeia-branca-do- 
fundinho-branco (‘white-tailed white bee’) has its abdomen colored white, the 
contrasting specific taxon, namely abeia-branca-do-fundinho-vermelho (‘red-tailed 
white bee’), has its abdomen marked red. The hive entrance of both types is said to 
be made of wax.! Taxonomically, the two kinds of abeia-branca are likely to repre- 
sent varieties of a single scientific species, Frieseomellita silvestrii. 

The same can be said for cupira (Partamona cupira), though no specimens were 
examined by the specialist. The distinction between cupira-boca-de-berruga (‘wart- 
mouth cupira’) and cupira-boca-de-barro (‘clay-mouth cupira’) alludes to the 


material which is used to build their hive entrance. The former folk species opens 


a little hole in the tree in which it lives, which is lined with wax, whereas the latter 
goes inside a termite nest and uses clay to construct its hive entrance. The third 
generic taxon illustrating binary contrast at the folk specific rank is arapud. The 
distinctive semantic dimension used to separate the two types of arapud is the 
quantity of honey produced by each, in combination with the size of the hive en- 
trance. Arapud-macho (‘male arapua’) is thought to produce more honey than 
arapua-fémea (‘female arapua’), and its hive entrance is the longer of the two. 
Nests of both folk species are made of cow dung and vegetable matter. Their honey 
is considered to be tasteful. These two folk species correspond to only one scien- 
tific species, Trigona spinipes. Apparently, the arapud-macho hive is older and so 
its entrance is longer than that of arapua-fémea. Consultants say that cupira re- 
sembles arapua but it is slightly longer and brighter than the latter. Thus, the 23 
categories of “bees” recognized by the Pankararé include monotypic folk genera, 
polysemous generics, as well as binomially and monomially named folk specifics. 


The cultural significance of “bees” for the Pankararé.— The knowledge of an elaborate 
ethnotaxonomy of social insects indicates the high cultural significance of eusocial 
bees and wasps for the Pankararé. The Indians interact with these animals in many 
sae food and medicine, consuming wild honey in reli- 
glous festivities, and utilizing beeswax to make tools, such as bullets, or to stopper 


8° primarily to the caati 7 . ; : 
a “lO . ni on the quality of the tree in which the hive was made, the age of 
little oie i Antti erie Honey-producing wasps, by contrast, produce 
harvestin Ps 5 is of low quality, but their larvae are very nutritious. When 
for their nao: ener they can eat larvae and pupae locally or take them home 
kept by the a schoo Although used as a food source, “fierce bees” are not 
ie le j arare as is done in other communities (e.g., Hunn 1977). It is 
harvest ai eeiclay is these resources are readily available to men because they 

labeickc addition to larvae consumption, the pollen sacks (fio azedo) 
Of abeia-branca are used medicinally against influenza. 


Spring 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 9 


Pankararé sell honey in the market in Paulo Afonso, generating cash to buy 
foodstuffs such as sugar, flour, and salt. This activity is conducted in the driest 
months of the year when low ag ides witha higher honey 
productivity. Honey is also important when hunting in the caatinga woods, where 
“water and food are available only for those who know how to achieve these re- 
sources” (Bandeira 1993). The importance of insects as food is indicated by the 
number of calories which is obtained by the ingestion of bee larvae (here concern- 
ing Apidae only). This is greater than that of their honey, which is considered a 
high energy food. Honey produces 4.053 kcal/kg against 4.756 kcal/kg for the 
pupae (Ramos-Elorduy and Pino 1990). 
Bees and their products have been noted as important for their healing pow- 
ers by ancient and modern medical sciences and in many different human societies 


TABLE 2.— “Bees” used as medicine by the Pankararé Indians from Northeastern 
Brazil, related to raw materials, usage, and indications. Also included true wasp 
medicine. 


Pankararé Scientific name Raw Usage Indications 
name materials 
abeia-branca _ Freiseomellita “fio azedo” eaten influenza 
silvestrit (pollen pot) 
arapua Trigona spinipes honey eaten diabetes 
cupira Partamona cupira honey eaten throat inflammation 
exu-de- Protopolybia exigua _ nest inhaled evil eye 
cachorro exigua 
mandassaia Melipona honey eaten snake bites 
quadrifasciata ? 
maribondo- Apoica pallens nest inhaled _ dizziness, asthma, stroke 
chapéu 
mosquito-preto Plebeia mosquito honey eaten throatache 
massaged “sapinho” (oral micoses) 
oropa Apis mellifera honey eaten diabetes, bronchites, 
scutellata tuberculosis, hoarseness, 
verminousis 
wax inhaled headache, dizziness 
papa-terra Cephalotrigona honey eaten snake bites 
apitata ? 
tarantanta Polybia sericea nest inhaled “mal do tempo” (stroke ?) 
trombeta wax inhaled “mal do tempo” 
wax eaten diabetes 
urugu Melipona scutellaris honey eaten snake bites, rabid dog 


bites, impotence 


10 COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 


(loirich 1986; Weiss 1947). In Pankararé medicinal usage, 11 “bees” provide 13 raw 
materials used to pref dies to treat or prevent 16 illnesses (Table 2). Honey 
is the main resource recommended in cases of diabetes, bronchitis, oral micoses, 
sore throat, intestinal worms, and impotence. It is considered also an powerful 
antidote against bites of snakes and rabid dogs bites. The multiple uses of sting- 
less bee honey as medicine is justified by its chemical diversity (Pamplona 1992). 
The bactericidal properties of bee products, whether pollen or bee glandular se- 
cretions added when honey is dehydrated (Cortopassi-Laurino and Gally 1993), 
are well known. In Pankararé ethnoentomology, two species of social wasps of the 
Polistinae have been used as medicines. A bath of the smoke from burning nests of 
tarantata (Polybia sericea) and exu-de-cachorro (Protopolybia exigua exigua) are 
thought to be useful in treating evil eye and strokes. At least one resource is tradi- 
tionally used in ethnoveterinary medicine. A piece of an arapud nest is dissoved 
in water, which is then used to bathe dogs with fleas or scabies. Indeed, insect 
products are reputed to have immunological, analgesic, diuretic, anesthetic, anti- 
rheumatic, and even aphrodisiac properties. Understanding the traditional modes 
of use of medicinal insects and studying their active principles in laboratories may 
suggest prototypes for new drugs, such as the established commercial products 
Melitin, Oftalmosept, Apinen, Apicosan, and Apimoset (Ramos-Elorduy and Pino 
1988). Wasps have also played important roles in folk beliefs (Starr and Wille 1988; 
Posey 1987; Lenko and Papavero 1979). 


Conservation of the apifauna of the Brazilian caatinga. — The caatinga environment 
is characterized by prolonged seasonal drought. However, it supports a singular 
biodiversity in fauna and flora, exuberant in times of rain. Nevertheless, this Bra- 
zilian ecosystem has been seriously deforested during centuries of unrestrained 
exploitation for wood extraction and cattle pasture. This has decreased the vegetal 
covering and consequently the number of “bee” species. Although the encantados 
are feared because they severely punish those who misuse game uselessly, this 
taboo has weakened among young Indians just because their beliefs have been 
left behind. Many of them have become acculturated when studying in towns, 
and a significant fraction of the Pankararé population, as well as those of other 
northeast Brazilian peoples, have migrated south to the rapidly growing cities in 
search of better living conditions. This is a serious problem, considering the 
overexploitation of native resources, mainly by posseiros (‘white, non-indigenous 
settlers’). Traditional folk knowledge of biological diversity and ecological rela- 

tionships of the semi-arid zone diminish as the indigenous population declines. 
Honeybees and stingless bees are in danger of extinction in some areas of the 
world. Harvesting their hives has resulted in the elimination of many colonies 
—— 1989). Consultants report that the number of stingless bee colonies is de- 
cee and that these i sects are becoming rare. In addition, the Pankararé believe 
ee Apis mellifera has influenced the reduction of some Meliponinae. They say 
. ; se season species arrived at Raso da Catarina Ecological Station about 
sited cae that it has since displaced the less aggressive indigenous Spe 
“aun Ait Stet their sources of nourishment. Despite its good taste, abundant 
ences economic value, Apis mellifera is not kept by the Pankararé. One alter- 
€ tor stingless bee conservation is to encourage beekeeping by native people 


Spring 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 11 


in a way that respects the local indigenous cultures. Thus, indigenous bee species 
would be preserved and the lives of the local people improved. As observed in 
Brejo do Burgo village, there is some husbandry of bees of the native species 
Melipona scutellaris, which is reared near houses in natural tree cavities or hollow 
logs or in artificial hives (cortigos), which are installed under the eaves of the 
house or tied on the branches of a tree. This activity is not common and needs to 
be better understood as a potential conservation strategy. 


CONCLUSIONS 


4} re 1 


I report here results of the first I study of the folk taxonomy 
and cultural importance of social insects among the Pankararé. These insects are 
significant as medicines and in the economy of this tribe. Nests and honey are 
utilized as food and medicine, beeswax is used to stopper pots or to make bullets. 
Their ethnotaxonomy shows that honey-producing bees and wasps are classed 
together in the life form abeia or “bee,” which is divided into three intermediate 
taxa according to whether they sting or not and, if so, if they can sting repeatedly. 
Prototypical folk species and binary contrast sets are named, but further study is 
necessary to clarify the folk taxonomic treatment of hymenoptera other than the 
Apidae and Vespidae 

Due to processes of acculturation that have affected the younger generation 
and pressures on the caatinga environment, the entomological resources of the 
Pankararé have been overexploited. Native stingless bee colonies may survive if 
conservation programs that encourage beekeeping are developed in accord with 
both folk and scientific techniques. This survey was concerned not only to record 
the ethnoentomology of social insects in this one traditional society of northeast- 
ern Brazil, but also to call attention to threats to the habitat of these people and 
thus to the cultural diversity of this region. 


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 


I want to express my gratitude to Darrell Posey, Jose Geraldo Marques, and Eugene 
Hunn for comments on the manuscript and to Oton Marques and Marina Siqueira for 
specimen identifications. I am also grateful to Aristételis Neto for aid in preparing the 
French abstract. Special acknowledgements are due to the Pankararé for their hospitality. 


NOTES 


1 As the specialist consultant could not be found at the moment of collecting specimens of 
abeia-branca, those collections were shown to other consultants. However, they were un- 
able to distinguish to which folk variety they belonged. So, the specimens were assigned 
only the folk generic name. 


12 COSTA-NETO Vol. 18, No. 1 
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14 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


Wild Plants and Native Peoples of the Four Corners. William W. Dunmire and 
Gail D. Tierney. Museum of New Mexico Press, Santa Fe, 1997. Pp. 313. $22.50 
(paper). ISBN: 0-89013-319-0. 
Wild Plants and Native Peoples of the Four Corners is the second book by 

and Tierney to explore native plant uses in the American Southwest. (Wild Plants 

of the Pueblo Province was published in 1994 and reviewed in the Journal of 

Ethnobiology 17:290-291). The intended audiences are those with no formal train- 

ing in botany and anthropology, but it should prove a handy reference for trained 

ethnobiologists as well. Dunmire and Tierney present a good balance of linking 
prehistoric evidence of plant-people relationships with that of contemporary cul- 
tures and a welcome change from books that so often emphasize only one or the 
other. They focus first on the reconstructed and present-day flora(s) of five parks 
within the U.S. National Park System — Chaco Canyon, Aztec Ruins, Mesa Verde, 

Hovenweep, and Canyon de Chelly — and the peoples who inhabited these areas 

in the past. This information is tied to the present via the Hopi, who represent a 

direct cultural link with pre-Puebloan people, and by the relatively recently ar- 

rived Navajo, Ute Mountain Ute, and Jicarilla Apache. 

The first ten chapters cover various aspects of Four Corners ethnobotany: the 
land, the earliest people, ancestral Puebloans, the four featured contemporary tribes, 

dy gardens (agriculture, including semi-domesticates), wild plant use (arranged 
by food and beverage, medicine, construction and fuel, implements and ceremo- 
nial objects, baskets and cordage, textile, paint and dyes), and Four Corners 
ethnobotany (research methodology). Each chapter has its own list of suggested 
readings and, when reference is made toa plant treated in depth later in the text, it 
and its page number are noted in the margin. The bulk of the text (Chapter 11) is 
devoted to two- to four-page profiles of fifty of the wild plants that were, and 
continue to be, common and the most culturally important to the native peoples 
of the Four Corners region. Six trees, 18 shrubs, 24 herbs and two grasses are fea- 
tured, arranged phylogenetically within each lifeform. Their natural history and 
past and present uses are summarized, and line drawings and color photographs 
are included for easy field identification. An annotated list of 515 useful plants 


provides helpful summary data organized by major use categories, with tribe(s) 
and reference(s) indicated. 


VW ecUuy 


Aside from occasional ambiguous wording and one case of poor editing (i.e., 
the wild plant use categories in the chapter by that title do not match exactly those 
found in the annotated list), my biggest concern is with the chapter entitled “Four 
Corners Ethnobotany.” It sets out to inform the reader on how ethnobotanical re- 
search is done. While it does an admirable job of addressing various aspects © 
archaeobotany, palynology, dendrology, and such, it falls short in its coverage of 
modern ethnographic, linguistic, and ecological techniques. All in all, howevet, 
Wild Plants and Native Peoples of the Four Corners will be a valuable addition to the 
wie of anyone who needs a practical readable reference to this corner of the 


Elaine Joyal 

Department of Anthropology 
Arizona State University 
Tempe, AZ 85287-2402 


Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):15-33 Summer 1998 


MAINTENANCE OF FERTILITY OF SHALE SOILS 
N A TRADITIONAL AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM 
IN CENTRAL INTERIOR PORTUGAL 


GEORGE F. ESTABROOK 
The University of Michigan 
Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1048 


ABSTRACT.—The traditional techniques press by qubslapanee farmers 
dwelling in the shale foothills of the Serra da Estre central interior 
Portugal have created and maintained fertile soil on this intrinsically marginal 
land for the past 400 years or more. To describe and explain these techniques, 
data were recorded for an area at 600 m above sea level at the headwaters of the 
Pracais river in the county of Pampilhosa da Serra, district of Coimbra. The 23 
remaining residents of a group of three villages here provided ethnographic 
insights. In the summer temperatures may reach 40° C and it rarely rains, but in 
the winter temperatures often fall near zero (though rarely below) and about 2m 
of rain fall. The rain has cut deep, steep-sided valleys into the shale from which 
soil is readily washed. The clay 

Church records show that people have inhabited the Pracais valley for at least 
four centuries, but probably longer. During this time, they have built hundreds of 
kilometers of ae setaining walls to facilitate Cultivation ee inrigation, and to 
control erosion 
that cove I the valleys, mix it with goat excrement, and bury it 
in the soil of the cultivated terraces. The rate at which organic matter is added to 
soil was ae to be about = mictric one } aty aged io hectare per year. 
Chemical analyses t and of their mixture with 
goat excrement, dineernined that this rate was slightly more than adequate to 
replace pied niet. phosphorus and potassium removed from the soil with the 

y productivity i 

to be about 210 g dry matter | per square meter. Vegetation harvested from about 6 
to 8 hectares of heathland is required to maintain the fertility of one hectare of 


cultivated terrace. Thus, the nearby I ha part of the economic 
resources of the village as are the sheds, houses, and cultivated terraces. 
RESUMO. Lope ty udo 4 4 + 4 Aa tartilidadnaA } 


através de técnicas , tradicionais, empregues por agricultores em regime de 
subsisténcia, que vivem nas encostas da Serra da Estrela, no interior Centro de 
Portugal. Os dados foram recolhidos essencialmente no grupo de aldeias, junto 
do rio Pragais, na freguesia de Cabril, concelho de Pampilhosa da Serra, distrito 
de Coimbra. A pluviosidade anual no local atinge de metro e meio a dois metros 
e um quarto, principalmente entre os meses de Outubro e Marco. Os vales 
escarpados sao susceptiveis de uma intensa erosao, em direc¢ao ao leito do rio, 
sob accéo das chuvas. Raramente chove nos meses de Julho e Agosto, e as 
temperaturas atingem os 30 centigrados. Os registos paroquiais indicam que a 
populacao habita esta zona ha pelo menos 4 séculos, mas muito provavelmente, 
ha anal ais tempo. Ao longo dos anos, as a, pei erigindo centenas de 

0 longo do vale do Pragais. 
Destinam-se a segurar oO ‘solo para possibilitar o seu | cultivo e irrigagdo e para 
evitar a erosdo. O solo argiloso que é arrastado pelo leito do rio é constituido 


ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


principlamente por minerais de ilite, e é praticamente infértil. A fertilidade é 
produzida e mantida, em primeiro lugar, pela adicgéo de matéria organica, 
constituida por mato cortado nas charnecas que ocupam os cumes dos vales, 

i c tos de cabra, e enterrada no solo dos terracos de cultivo. 
Através de observacao directa e inquérito aos agricultores, medindo as reas e 
pesando e medindo os montes da mistura, foi possivel calcular que a taxa de 
adicdo de matéria organica no solo era cerca de 12 toneladas de matéria seca, por 
hectare, por ano. Andlises quimicas de amostras da vegetacao empregue, obtidas 
na zona, bem como da sua mistura com os excrementos de cabra, permitiram 
verificar que esta taxa de adicdo é ligeiramente superio a necessaria para a 
substituigao do azoto, fdsforo e potassio removidos do solo pelo cultivo anual de 
milho. A productividade primdria nas charnecas, onde o mato cresce, foi 
determinada com sendo, aproximadamente, de 230g de matéria seca por mete 
quadrado, por ano. Cerca de um terco destas zonas altas , terreno baldio ou 
pedregoso. Assim, sao necessarios cerca de 8 hectares de terreno com mato para 
manter a fertilidade de um hectare de terreno cultivavel, nos terracos. Isto 
demonstra claramente a importancia das charnecas e matagais circundantes nos 
recursos econémicos essenciais A tradicional agricultura de subsisténcia desta 
regiao. 
RESUME. — Les agriculteurs de subsistance des collines basses de la Serra da 
Estrala, au centre du Portugal, ont aménagé il y a quatre cents ou plus et réussi, 
depuis, a conserver des sols fertiles dans une région schisteuse intrinse¢quement 
marginale. Pour décrire et expliquer les techniques traditionnelles utilisées, nous 
avons rassemblé des données dans une zone a 600 m au-dessus du niveau de la 
mer située en amont de la riviére Pracais, dans le comté de Pampilhosa da Serra, 
dans le district de Coimbra. Les vingt-trois derniers habitants d’un groupe de 
trois villages ont fourni des informations eth hi Sci Durant I’été, 
la température peut atteindre 40°C et il pleut rarement, mais en hiver, le mercure 
descend souvent a z€ro, rarement au-dessous, et il tombe environ 2000 mm de 
pluie. La pluie acr ae ste des vallé E34 f] escarpés et la 
terre est facilement emportée. Le sol argileux qui compose cet ancien schiste n’est 
pas fertile. Les registr isgi enemas 


e la vallée de la Pracais est habitée 
Fa 1 ae, re a otriit 


le echi 
f 


s 
a 


depuis au moins quatre cents ans. Durant cette 
des centaines de kilométres 


; agriculture et irrigation, et contréler l’érosion. Pour enrichir le sol et le conserver 
fertile, she areek a} 1 “7 ey es ie ie e fl crétes 
surplombant les vall 


nnes métriques (poids sec) de matiere 
analyse chimique des especes 
cette quantité est 1é e fumier de chévre montre “nes 

€ est légerement plus qu’adé tilts vious tenislncer azote, te 
phosphore et le potassi . gq gq Pp Pp 


des fournissent assez de matiére 
hectare de terrasse cultivée fertile. Ainsi, les landes 


e des ressources économiques du village que les 
es terrasses cultivées. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 17 


INTRODUCTION 


1 £ 


Fossil fuels, such as coal and oil, are used 
to modern agriculture, while pre-fossil fuel agriculture, here termed “traditional, : 
is principally solar powered. The study of traditional agriculture, where it has sup- 
ported a population for hundreds of years, can reveal how aspects of its culture and 
technology overcome ecological, environmental, and social problems to meet the 
material and emotional needs of its practitioners. The cultural aspects of traditional 
agriculture include the practices by which the technology is learned, transmitted to 
subsequent generations, and made resilient against short term vicissitudes of envi- 
ronment or against invasion by inappropriate technology. As parts of barmspisindan these 
practices are celebrated as life ong 
individuals ties that form a self- consciously bound community. With this pa es 
standing, we can participate more effectively in directing and appreciating our own 
modern agricultural technology and culture. 

Often, agriculture becomes established in areas that are naturally fertile; but 
the people described here have practiced traditional agriculture where soils are 
naturally sparse and infertile. Thus, collecting and holding soil, and creating and 
maintaining its fertility, were important and unusual aspects of their technology. 
This study combines the methods of cultural anthropology, history, quantitative 
field ecology, and chemical laboratory analyses to provide both scientific and cul- 
tural explanations for the traditional practices of these people to create and restore 
the fertility of their cultivated soil. 


ETHNOGRAPHIC SETTING 


To the west and south of the Serra da Estrela, Portugal’s highest range of 
mountains, the large stream, Rio Pracais, descends its steep-sided, twisting, deep 
valley about 15 km to the town of Pampilhosa da Sera, where it joins the Unha 
river in the Tejo river drainage (Figure 1). At its headwaters lie three villages: 
Sobralinho, Malho, and Sanguasuga, called collectively Ribeiros, which means 
streams. Ribeiros is in the parish of Cabril, about 40° 6’ N, 7° 56’ W (Greenwich), at 
ca. 700 m elevation, with ridge tops 100 m to 250 m above. Downstream from 
Ribeiros, the valley of the main stream soon becomes so deep and steep that agri- 
cultural develo t has occurred mostly along tributaries. On a tributary about 
6 km downstream is the village of Pracais. Two kilometers further, over the ridge, 
along the next major tributary lie the three villages of Piscanseco. The whole Pracais 
drainage lies within the county (Concelho) of Pampilhosa da Sera, in the state 
(Distrito) of Coimbra, Portugal. 


METHODS 


I first visited the Pracais valley in 1980, when I was taken to the villages of 
Piscanseco by an adult who was born and raised there. It was apparent that the 
only agriculture then practiced was based on pre-fossil fuel technology. Families 
owned the land they worked and worked on their own account, primarily for 
subsistence. 


18 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


SNE eri Sareea 
camped Castelo Branco @ 


° 10 20 km 


FIGURE 1.— Location of Rio Pracais and the Ribeiros village group within Portugal. 


I returned to the Pracais valley briefly in July 1993. 
In addition to personal observation of the weather in Ribeiros, I estimated the 


Ps st ee because of similar altitude and terrain. ; 
sively modified b . observed and measured the terrain, which has been exten 
integral pai ot y the construction of tens of kilometers of terraces. These are an 

a Paes ee ae agricultural technology because most of the annual crops are 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 19 


residents themselves. Two married couples provided me food and shelter, and 
introduced me to some of the other residents of Ribeiros. This endorsement by my 
native hosts was essential for other residents to speak freely with me. Estabrook 
(1994) presents a detailed description of interview and observation methods used 
to gather data directly from residents. 

I used two approaches to estimate the number of residents in Ribeiros in 1900 
and 1940. Church records in the archive of the University of Coimbra and civil 
records in the town of Pampill in towns in the Pracais 
valley, including Ribeiros. “Numbers of hearths and numbers of people were esti- 
mated for 1900 and 1940 using nat census counts from 1890 and 1930 of people 
per hearth and baptisms per hearth for the nearby towns of Cabril and Pampilhosa 
da Serra, because Ribeiros was too small to be reported. The ratios from these two 
towns were applied to the available baptism counts for Ribeiros. I also estimated 
the number of people in Ribeiros in 1940 from the number I observed in 1987 and 
the fraction of terraces I observed to be under cultivation in 1987. 

An important aspect of the technology by which people create and maintain 
soil fertility is by adding large amounts of organic matter to the soil. I observed 
how people collect this organic matter as brush from the heathlands, enrich it with 
goat excrement, and allow it to begin decomposition, before they add it to the soil 
at specific times. Corn (Zea mays L.) is a major crop, which is harvested in October. 
I was able to observe and measure this harvest. I estimated the amount in dry 
metric tons per hectare of organic matter that people added to the soil to restore 
fertility after they harvested this corn crop. People carry baskets of organic matter 
to the plot where soon it will be spread out and mixed with the soil. They empty 
baskets into a pile against the wall at the uphill side of the plot. With the coopera- 
tion of their carriers, | weighed several baskets using a hand-held, spring-loaded 
scale. The number of baskets emptied to make a pile, together with the volume of 
the pile, was used to estimate the weight of a cubic meter of organic matter. I 
sealed a sample of organic matter in a plastic bag and later, in a laboratory in 
Coimbra, weighed, dried, and reweighed it to determine percent dry weight. Farm- 
ers made four piles during my stay. For each, I measured the volume of the pile 
and the area of the plot over which it would be spread. 

Just before its harvest in October, I measured corn yield in the irrigated stream- 
side plot known to be cultivated ure traditional practices. The number of ears on 
all stalks in three areas of four m* each were counted. Also counted were the num- 
bers of grains on several ears. Later in Coimbra, I weighed 100 grains. From these 
data, yield in kg of dry seed per hectares was calculated. The residents allow the 
seeds to dry thoroughly on the stalks before harvest so that they may be more easily 
removed from the ears and milled into flour for bread. Barber and Olson (1968) 
used chemical analysis to estimate the amounts of plant nutrients contained in corn 
plants producing 10,000 kg of dry grain grown in Wisconsin. They report 200 kg N, 
42 kg P, and 205 kg K. Recognizing that corn plants in Ribeiros may differ somewhat 
from this composition, these removal rates per 10,000 kg dry grain, together with 
the yield estimated for the plot in Ribeiros, were used to estimate the rate at which 
nutrients are removed from the soil in that plot per corn harvest 

I homogenized many samples of estrume (as the residents call their mixture of 
heathland plants and goat excrement) and analyzed it by chromatography at 


20 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


LQARS to determine g/kg of nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, calcium, magne- 
sium, and sulphur. In all four plots, estimates of the amounts of nitrogen, 
phosphorous and potassium removed from the soil with the corn harvest were 
compared to the amounts added to the soil in organic matter. Vegetation samples 
of the nine principal plant species in the heathlands were also analysed in the 
same way. Comparing these measurements with those for estrume provides clear 
evidence of the contribution of goats to estrume (as shown in Table 3, below). 
The area presently and formerly used by the residents is essentially the entire 
upper drainage basin (Figure 2). Fifty-five soil samples were taken from 23 sites 
throughout this area, including uncultivated clay, heathland, irrigated streamside 
and terraced plots, and unirrigated terraced plots (see Table 4, below). Some of the 
plots were still actively cultivated, though others had been abandoned for from 
two to 20+ years. Soil sample sites were chosen in order to measure and compare 
the nature of various local soils of interest to this study. The uncultivated clay 
represents soil before residents invest in it. The one or two cm of soil over the rock 
outcrops from which the heathlands grow may have been a source of soil to pio- 
neering cultivators. Actively cultivated plots have received hundreds of years of 
annual influxes of organic matter, and when irrigated have remained wet all year 
long. Recently abandoned plots may reflect the cultivator’s intent to abandon. 
Long abandoned plots may show the restorative effect of fallow. Measurements of 
soil samples from each area of interest will be presented and discussed below. 
At most sites, about 10 soil cores, each about two cm in diameter and of lengths 
depending on site from superficial to 40 cm, were taken from within about a two 
square meter area. In cultivated plots, about the top 10 cm are disturbed when 
organic matter is added or new crops are planted, so the 5-6 cm section was usu- 
SDD EE SS Se Se a aaa aaa a 


FIGURE 2.— The location 


head waters of Bij ee the Ribeiros village group and related features within the 


causa 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 21 


ally taken from these disturbed strata, along with a section at 20-21 cm just below 
the actively disturbed depth. In a few cultivated plots the soil was deep enough to 
allow a section from 40 cm. Within a plot, sections from the same depth were then 
combined and homogenized to make a single soil sample. Values for N, P, and K 
may be affected by periodic additions by farmers of organic matter to cultivated 
plots, as described above. Samples from such plots were taken about two weeks 
before the corn was harvested in early October. Soil samples were analysed at 
LQARS for particle size, water holding capacity, organic matter, total nitrogen, 
carbon to nitrogen ratio, extractable phosphorus and potassium, pH (both in wa- 
ter and in dilute KCl), and cation exchange capacity 

Because people collect large amounts of vegetation from the heathlands to 
add to the soil in their cultivated terraces to restore its fertility, the heathlands are 
an important resource for their agricultural technology. To estimate the ratio of 
area of heathland needed to support area of cultivated terrace, I measured the rate 
of growth of vegetation in the heathlands. I cut, removed, dried and weighed all 
the vegetation from sample plots in two distinct areas. In one area that people said 
had been cut to near ground level 4 years earlier, which is the regeneration inter- 
val allowed before they clear-cut vegetation again from the same place, I clearcut 
plots covering two square meters. In the other area, which had burned over in a 
local fire eight years earlier, I clearcut plots covering six m?. Because the purpose 
of this vegetation sampling was to produce an estimate of the rate of primary 
productivity in the heathlands that is as accurate as possible, all the vegetation 
from plots of the same age was pooled to avoid pseudo-replication. Dividing pre- 
viously estimated rates per unit area at which people add organic matter to soil to 
restore fertility after a corn harvest by rates per unit area at which vegetation grows 
in the heathlands estimates the ratio of area of heathland needed to support area 
of cultivated terrace. 


RESULTS 


Climate. — Monthly temperature, rainfall and evaporation data are presented in 
Table 1. Lows at or below freezing occur in a dozen or so days spread over the 
months from November through April with average lows in the single digits C 
and average highs in the teens. Rains typically begin in September or October, 
becoming strong in November, intense in December, strong again in January and 
February, moderate in March, taper through April and May to sparse in June, and 
absent in July and August. Typical annual rainfall in Vidual, Cabril and Fejao (all 
within 10 km of Ribeiros and about the same altitude) is from 1.5 to 2.2 m of which 
about 80% falls from November through February. Direct sun and drying of the 
air occur infrequently during these months, as shown by the sun hours and evapo- 
ration potential in nearby Fundao. By April it is drier, sunnier, warmer, and freezing 
is improbable. June, July, and August are very hot and dry, with highs sometimes 
near 40° C. The timing and amount of rains are quite variable from year to year, 
and to a lesser degree from place to place. Occasionally, rains will start late, or 
annual rainfall will barely exceed 1000 mm. Some aspects of the agricultural prac- 
tices anticipate this uncertainty. 


72 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


Terrain and terraces. — The Pracais flows sw away from Portalinha Pass (900 m), 
which is 1.5 km ne from the church (600 m) shown by the cross in Figure 2. The 
principal cirque has a radius of about 1 km for its northeastern half, but the di- 
vides narrow to about 1 km apart 2 km downstream from the church. Many streams 
flow out of this cirque, joining in and below Ribeiros as the divides begin to nar- 
row. A lesser ridge, from northwest of the pass, slopes SW to the middle cluster of 
residences and divides the cirque into two lesser cirques: one faces west below 
Portalinha pass and carries the main stream; the other faces south below a high 
ridge and carries one of its many tributaries. The beds of these two streams are | to 
2 m deep and so difficult to cross that they divide the lower basin into the three 
small villages mentioned above: Malho on the small ridge between them; 
Sobralinho on the NW facing slopes south of the main stream; and Sanguasuga, 
now completely uninhabited, on a South-facing promontory West of this tribu- 
tary, which joins the main stream 300m below. 

These slopes have been developed into productive, cultivated plots ina vari- 
ety of ways. In the past, rye (Secale cereale L.) was cultivated during the winter in 
distant, unterraced, heathland plots without irrigation. Perhaps because of their 
distance from the residence cluster, these plots have been abandoned. Formerly 
most and presently all cultivated soil is held behind stone walls. These are built 
high enough to hold soil at a depth sufficient to grow crops and to create a level 
terrace wide enough to stand on to cultivate. Walls also protect soil from erosion 
and facilitate irrigation. 

Approximately 40 km of retaining walls are in the area represented by the 
map in Figure 2. They have been built in three basic styles. North of the main 
stream, beginning several hundred meters east of Malho, continuing downstream 
through the villages and below, are wider, sloping, cultivated plots behind stream- 
— sched! each an ownership parcel 10 to 30+ m long. Below Malho on the 
eee as eee of Sobralinho, there are similar plots south of this stream 
fi oa soa eel € occurs on the south facing slopes north of, and farther 
haa aati s — These consist of series of nearly level cultivated terraces, 
south Te . - s from 1.5 to 2.2 m tall. The gullies of streamlets that ee 
pay estward have frequently been breached by masonry walls an 

€d to produce yet a third kind of cultivated terrace. 


TABLE 


1. — Data to estimate weather in Ribeiros 


: od is 4 218 3 «0 (0 131 261 See 

i tee Ok 89 195.100 77.0. 1-38 6 
ee ub r | 256 324 123 171 94 93 0 0 36 76 84 600 
Fundon jee et eM MG 2h 28. 30.90 28 
Fundao 19 . 156 7. ie 14 6 16. 13. 
Purdie We oe ee se 7 3 
Fundeo Ya 59 66 291 206 340 348 371 346 243 172 154 195 
e | 54 54 146 112 204 185 287 265 229 90 62 7 


tr = rainfall j -M= : é 
m = same pee: Bi = monthly average of daily maximum temperature in Centigrade; 
‘otal ealindeee cs ‘a se x = extreme lowest temperature during the month; h = 

urs of sunshine; e = total monthly evaporation potential in mm. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 23 


Forest and Heathland. — On the north facing slope south of the main stream and 
east of Sobralinho were formerly chestnut groves (Castanea sativa Mill.), managed 
for chestnuts and for wood for lintels and bridges. These trees were cut in the 
1950’s and 60’s for sale to the hardwood furniture industry. A few regenerating 
stumps remain. The area was replanted in maritime pine (Pinus pinaster Aiton). 
Oaks (Quercus sp, perhaps Q. suber L. or Q, ilex L. among others) used to grow on 
the steep, south-facing hillsides. These supplied firewood, oxcarts, floorboards, 
toolhandles, etc., but are now replanted also in maritime pine. Above the steep 
upper slopes, where the ridge tops level, are heathlands. (The names of the nine 
principal species of heathland plants are given in Table 3 below.) 


Crops. — Rye, corn, potatoes (Solanum tuberosum L.), beans (Phaseolus vulgaris L.), 
and collard (Brassica oleracea L.) are staple annuals. Perennial woody fruit-bearing 
plants include fig (Ficus carica L.), olive (Olea europaea L.), apple (Pyrus malus L.), 
quince (Cydonia oblongata Mill.), raspberry (Rubus sp), walnut (Juglans regia L.), 
chestnut (Castanea sativa Mill.), and marginally grape (Vitis vinifera L.). Rye is planted 
(now in terraces) at the beginning of the rainy season, grows vegetatively through 
the cool wet winter, flowers in the warmer spring, and the dry seed is harvested in 
late spring. The fact that rye is no longer cultivated in the heathlands may explain 
why the 1940 population estimated from terraces is more than that estimated be- 
low from baptisms. 

The variety of collard, called cove in Portuguese, grows in the cool wet winter. 
It is planted in late summer as seed in a small, crowded, irrigated patch, and at the 
beginning of the rains, is transplanted at 0.5 m intervals. During the cool, wet 
winter, it grows to a height of two m and produces broad, thick leaves, which are 
eaten all winter long as a source of fresh vegetable, yielding vitamin C and fiber. 
Its inclusion in the diet contributes to the health and longevity of these robust 

eople. 

4 ee is planted in the spring in irrigated plots. With adequate irrigation, it 
thrives in the hot summer. Ears are not harvested until late September before the 
rains start but after the grain had dried. Cove is often transplanted into the plot 
where corn grew in the spring and summer, and occupies it during the fall and 
winter. By contrast, rye cannot be grown to seed in plots where corn is to be grown 
because it does not mature in time for corn to be planted. Rye is sometimes planted 
in corn plots to help hold the soil in the torrential rains of winter, but is fed to goats 
before it flowers, so that corn can be planted. 

Corn is planted two seeds per hill about 40 cm apart in all directions. When 
the stalks are about a 0.5 m high, the corn is thinned. From hills with two surviv- 
ing stalks, one is removed and fed to goats. A few bean seeds are then planted 
around the base of the remaining stalk. During the summer, as the bean vines 
climb the corn stalks, the lower corn leaves are removed and fed to goats. Beans 
are harvested by pulling up the corn stalks after the ears have been removed, at 
which time the bean seeds are dry. Most organic matter that goats cannot or will 
not eat is buried in the soil. By contrast, corn stalks are pulled out by their roots 
and burned. 

Sometimes beans are planted without corn, which, as the cultivators explain, 
gives the plot a rest. Non-climbing varieties are used for this. Pumpkin (Cucurbita 


24 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


pepo L.) is often planted along the upper wall in these plots. Potatoes are planted 
earlier in the spring than corn but, later in the spring, need irrigation to flourish. 
Their harvest is able to begin in May, providing an early staple, and continues 
through the early summer. Potatoes are harvested too late to allow corn to follow 
them, but beans can be planted. During the warm seasons, in irrigated kitchen 
gardens near the dwellings, an array of vegetables is grown, including lettuce 
(Lactuca sativa L.), onion (Allium cepa L.), carrot (Daucus carota L.), tomato 
(Lycopersicon esculentum Mill.), and garlic (Allium sativum L.). 


Demographic history. — An inscription on a building in Pamilhosa da Serra states 
that King Dinis awarded the surrounding area as a fief to one of his nobles in 1308, 
but the earliest written record of habitation by a specific person that I found is a 
baptismal record from 1667. Records of parish rituals associated with birth, death, 
and marriage in the Pracais valley are nearly conti ince that date, and clearly 
indicate that the valley was well populated long before the mid 17th century. I 
have no direct evidence of the agricultural technology employed in the 16th and 
17th centuries, but it is clear that the soil was naturally infertile, having weathered 
from the same ancient shales, and that the steep hillsides were then equally prone 
to soil erosion. Thus, it seems plausible that terraces were already in use to retain 
soil of sufficient depth and to control erosion. 

I estimated the Ribeiros population in 1900 and in 1940 from baptisms to be 
about 131 and 260 people respectively. In 1987, 23 people lived in Ribeiros and 
cultivated only about 1/12 of the area of the terraces, the rest being left unculti- 
vated. Residents confirm that in the 1940s every terrace was cultivated. Assuming 
a constant ratio of people to terraces, I estimate about 276 people in 1940, close to 
the estimate based on baptisms. 

Residents tell me that the first road capable of carrying a motorized vehicle 
was built by hand in 1942, preliminary to the construction of the power dam near 
Cabril, and that most people there had never seen a motorized vehicle before that 
time. Thus it seems plausible that in 1940 the Ribeiros traditional, pre-fossil fuel 
agricultural technology was intact and capable of supporting 250+ inhabitants. 

: In 1987 Ribeiros still had at least 23 permanent residents, who told be they had 
een born there, or had come there to be married, and still remained. All were 
rai 60 except for three young adults. Two were sons of a family that no longet 
armed. hey left the village daily with their father to labor for wages. The last 
ri a farmer’s daughter who worked with her parents. Four married couples and 
"= single women still actively raised crops for much of their livelihood. The te- 
maining five-six people lived mostly on pensions or savings but planted a few 
crops. There were no children nor single elderly men. 
fem ae Matter to Soil. — The principle means for maintaining soil fer- 
a a pamela matter to the soil. This organic matter consists mostly of 
7 a e Sc RpurR Every active cultivator kept at least a few goa 
Se se te es a Cultivator will take his or her goats, and often another $ 
A heavy sickle is u a s. While the goats are grazing, the cultivator harvests brush. 
pa! ie use to cut the bushes about 2 cm above the ground. An area © 
ore m’ is clear cut leaving nothing but stubble. Formerly the brush har- 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 25 


FIGURE 3.— A bundle of brush about to be carried from the heathland where it was cut, 
down to a goat shelter in the village below. Photograph by the author. 


vest might have been transported to the villages by ox cart, but now there are no 
more oxen, so it is piled into a bundle, tied with a single loop of rope, hoisted onto 
the head and carried down the hillside and back to the village (Figure 3). Often a 
piece of cloth protects the head and neck from thorns and prickles, with which 
this brush is replete. Typically, the brush bundle will be as large as can be reason- 
ably carried; in the case of one strong farmer about 65 years old, a bundle he was 
carrying down the steep path back to the village weighed 42 kg. , 

Not all of the stone buildings are residences; some serve for storage on their 
main floor, and house goats at night in the basement. The brush is carried to these 
buildings and spread on the basement floor, to be enriched by goat excrement. I 
did not observe the inclusion of any other organic wastes with this brush. En- 
riched brush is removed about every two weeks and piled outdoors nearby (see 
Figure 4). Now called estrume, it will eventually be transported to the cultivated 
plots where it will be dug into the soil with large hoes, though formerly it might 
have been plowed into the soil with cow- or ox-drawn plows. Other organic wastes, 
including human, pig, and chicken excrement, were dug directly into the soil of 
nearby kitchen gardens. 

Data to determine the rate at which farmers added estrume to cultivated plots 
following a corn harvest are given in Table 2. Eleven baskets of about 20 kg each 
(220 kg) of wet estrume made a pile of about 1.33 m?. About one thirds of the wet 
weight of estrume is water. Thus dry weight of one cubic meter of estrume is esti- 
mated to be about 110 kg. This estimate was used to calculate dry weight. 


26 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 2. — Rate at which estrume is added to plots cultivated in corn. 


Location/type D Vv Ww r R 

Sobralinho terrace; farmer not interviewed = § 2.6x14x0.7 25 275 220 125 

Lower streamside traditional, corn yield 3.5x1.0x16 56 615 440 140 
estimate plot “d,” Table 4. 

Upper streamside traditional, followed with 28x10x20 56 615 470 a 
forage rye 

Sobralinho terrace, same farmer as above, 16xlixil4 28 336 eee 
followed with fallow 


D = dimensions of compost pile in meters; V = volume in cubic meters; W = dry weight 
in kg; P = plot size in Square meters; R = rate in metric tons per hectare. 


at * 


-\ 
? 


on Mabe a ~ 7 gh By # ‘4 
—_ tes S i Ni: Bc Sa 
FIGURE 4.— A pj Pie 
ready hee pile of brush that has been removed from the floor of a goat shelter, 


uried in the soil of cultivated terraces. Photograph by the author. 


, 8 


6.8 metri 
etric tons of estrume are needed, and similarly about 9.0 metric tons for PO 


tassi i 
assium. By comparing the values in Table 3 for vegetation sampled directly from 


Summer 1998 


JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 


27 


TABLE 3. — Dry gm / kg of elements in vegetation and estrume samples. Scientific 
) 


names according to Franco (1971, 1984). 
N P K Ca Mg S 

Estrume 14.4 3.8 13.2 4.6 2.9 hs 
Calluna vulgaris (L.) Hull 5.8 1.0 we 2.4 1.0 1.0 
Erica umbellata L. ee 0.6 1.2 1.6 0.9 0.7 
Halimium ocymoides (Lam.) Willk. In | 5.9 0.8 1.6 | 1.3 0.8 

Willk. & Lange 
Lithodora diffusa (Lag.) I. M. Johnson | 6.3 1.0 1.8 2.4 iz 0.9 
Erica cinerea L. 6.4 1.6 4.2 29 0.9 1.0 
Chamaespartium tridentatum (L.) P. 4.8 1.0 2.6 1.8 0.9 0.8 

Gibbs 
Ulex minor Roth 6.4 1.4 ee 3.8 1.0 0.6 
Genista triacanthos Brot. 12.4 1.0 3.4 1.3 0.9 0.9 
Erica arborea L. 8.6 0.6 2.0 1.0 0.8 0.6 
TABLE 4. —Analyses of soil samples representing plots of interest. 

KWeA O. N Ff ... KPH. oc x 

a. Uncultivated clay 7-jln1G 09 10.2. M48: 95: 24 
b. Shallow soil from heathlands 31-11-20 79 3.1 39 174 47 145 38 
c. Terrace irrigated Cultivated 34-12=22 7.5 3.6 366 378 49 20.0 6.4 

Same plot 20 cm 32-12=20 52 2.7 188 126 47 17.7 4.3 

Same plot 40 cm 31-10=21 52 17 34 % 45 136 3.3 
d. Streamside irrigated Cultivated 36-12=24 62 43 89 169 5.7 23.4 12.2 
e. Streamside irrigated abandoned 2 yr 35-17=18 88 4.5 206 142 4.7 21.7 7.0 
f. Streamside irrigated abandoned 4 yr 33-15=18 88 48 53 126 44 12.7 42 
g. Streamside irrigated abandoned 20+ yr | 36-17=19 9.3 5.3 39 196 46 164 4.7 
h. Terrace irrigated abandoned 9 yr 27-12=15 62 28 50 126 43 92 3.1 
i. Terrace unirrigated abandoned 30? yr | 33-14=19 7.3 3.8 14 215 50 223 69 


F = field capacity; W = permanent wilting point; A = available water; O = organic matter; 


(F, W, A, O in %); N = total nitrogen (in g/kg); P = phosphorus; K = potassium; (P, K 
extractable in mg/kg). pH = titrated in water; exc = cation exchange capacity; x = 
exchangeable Ca, Mg, K, and Na; (cxc, x in cmol(+)/kg). Sample at 5 cm depth unless 
otherwise noted. 


the plants with values for estrume, the effect of the goats is easily seen. They ap- 


proximately double the nitrogen, triple the phosphorous, and increase potassium 
the village was full of 


races. 


28 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


Soil analyses. — Table 4 presents values for 10 measurements of each of nine typi- 
cal samples from plots that represent the various situations of interest to this study, 
as described above. These data are available on request. 


How much heathland is needed? — As noted above, soil fertility in cultivated plots is 
maintained in large part by adding to soil heathland brush enriched with goat 
dung. The rate at which brush grows limits the rate at which it can be harvested to 
replenish cultivated soil. Harvesting brush yielded 1.25 dry kg/m? in areas last 
harvested four years earlier, and 3.3 dry kg/ m? in areas that had been burned 
eight years earlier. This gives average annual productions of 312 and 410 dry gm/ 
m*. Since burning the vegetation produces ashes that enhance plant growth, while 
removal of vegetation to make estrume does not, the higher of the two estimates 
of the regeneration rate of harvested brush is somewhat too high. Furthermore, 
these experimental harvests were taken from areas of heathland where brush grows 
well. As much as one third of the heathland is outcrop, boulders, or cart tracks, 
where little vegetation grows. Thus, assuming 12 metric tons of brush are required 
annually for each hectare cultivated, approximately six hectares of heathland are 
needed to grow the brush to replenish the soil in that cultivated hectare. 


DISCUSSION 


The climate and weather patterns, with very hot dry summers and cold, rainy, 
Overcast winters, the steep crumbly terrain so difficult to even walk over, and the 
erently infertile soil raise the question of why people should ever have settled 
the Pracais valley, and why they did not starve before they developed the agricul- 
tural technology that has nourished them for the past half millennium. Acquiring 
the data to answer this convincingly was beyond the scope of the present study, 


Population, mostly in 
pied, and hence margin 


tivated land. Motta Prego (1897), in one of his many 
20th century to encourage young adults in 
ome or remain farmers, describes the cries of the ox-cart 


as they return in the evening from the hill tops with their loads of cut 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 29 


Comparison in Table 4 of the soil in an organically enriched plot with the un- 
cultivated clay of plot “a” clearly shows the contribution of increased organic 
matter. But the abundant organic matter in the cultivated soil of Ribeiros does 
more than provide nitrogen, phosphorous, and other nutrients. According to 
Magdoff (1992), organic matter facilitates the penetration and retention of water 
during irrigation, which is important for keeping crops supplied with water dur- 
ing the dry season. It facilitates the penetration of water during rains, which 
increases absorption and reduces surface erosion. It glues the soil together to help 
resist erosion during the heavy rains of winter. Organic matter increases the soil’s 
capacity to hold and release ions, which is important for soil-root interactions, 
and it maintains the ecosystem of microbial and fungal life, which mediates the 
passage of nutrients to plants. 

Plot “b” in Table 4, a heathland plot, is high in organic matter but, because it 
does not benefit so much from goat excrement, decomposes slowly and erodes 
rapidly. A comparison with other cultivated plots in Table 4 further shows how 
goats contribute. A few goats are milked, and occasionally one is eaten, but per- 
haps their most important contribution is to the maintenance of soil fertility. This 
has an importance beyond simply adding more nutrients. Goat excrement increases 
nitrogen and other nutrients and decomposes carbon more efficiently relative to 
the carbon in the brush. Griffin (1972) suggests that the species that make up the 
community of decomposers are largely determined by the ratio of carbon to nitro- 
gen and other nutrients. Thus goats may also alter the species composition of the 
decomposing community in favor of those that thrive at higher nutrient levels. 

One might ask why nitrogenous wastes of the other domesticated animals, 
such as chickens and pigs, not to mention human wastes, are not added to the 
brush with the goat excrement. As noted above, these types of excrement are bur- 
ied instead in kitchen gardens. Perhaps it is to minimize the t ission of disease. 
Their wastes do not represent outside inputs. By contrast, goats, like the brush 
itself, gather nutrients from many km? and concentrate them in nearby cultivated 
soil. Sheep, cows, and sometimes pigs render this concentrating service in other 
agro-ecosystems. Here the terrain is steep and the rock is crumbly; the light, agile, 
sure-footed goat, unlike other domestic animals, ranges safely throughout the 
whole area. In addition there is very little grass but mostly forbs and shrubs, which 
goats eat more readily than these other animals. 

Farmers often treat their goats affectionately, as if they were pets. No effort is 
made to herd or restrain the goats. They willingly follow farmers, who refer to 
their brush gathering activities as providing food and bedding for their goats, but 
the goats neither eat it (much) nor sleep on it. Farmers know that the brush is to 
maintain the fertility of their soil, but will still explain brush gathering in terms of 
goat care. Estabrook (1994) discusses this and several other explanatory anoma- 
lies in the tradition of these farmers. Perhaps 30% of the total ti pent mic 
activities by a farmer is invested in goats, harvesting and hauling brush, and mak- 
ing and hauling estrume. People say that in the past, brush was brought down in 
ox-carts. A few years ago someone was killed when he lost control of an ox-cart 
and now people say that they are too old to manage oxen safely. Oxen consume a 
great deal of food. There is virtually no pasture in this terrain, so ox food has to be 
grown. Thus oxen must be kept at work to amortize their operating costs. The 


30 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


need for ox food in the past _. in an Sere tne “ 
i - I saw no oxen resident in Ribeiros, 

ero ices the nearby village of Vidual to plow. Several broad ee 

from residential areas up into the brush meadows and stop. big P sofa 

crossed outcropped bedrock, where wheel ruts, worn by ox-carts into 

could be seen, evidence of the importance of oxen in the past. — 
Bearing in mind that corn yields may vary from plot to plot, tha wae oe 

corn constituents may vary from our estimates, and that cove, seoensf ire 

may also be grown during the rest of the year (except when farmers . meee 

I suspect is not a traditional Practice but evidence of the demise o 


It is not surprising that the rate of soil replenishment by the addition of organic 


i : ,and 
pacity somewhat, substantially increases nutrient levels, has little effect on pH 
substantially increases cation exch 


t of 
values are conspicuously high, compared to plot “d,” the other serie ad : 
Table 4. Plot “d” — in which I estimated corn yield and rate of addition of org 


Trucks selling fertilizer do Pass through the brush any 
plained to me that she used fertilizer because she was too weak to carry bru 


Another natural question also 
with its attendant technology, that 


most villages in northern interior P 
begun. Roads and motor vehicl iption 
facilitating government (exploiter Class) tactics, such as taxation and vances: my. 
that separate People from the land and force participation in the cash Bie 
Under the dictatorship of Salazar, suppression and exploitation of the lowerc eee 
was apparently so intense that it was clearly preferable to emigrate into m 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 31 


laborer positions in other countries, lead frugal lives, and send money home to 
Portugal. In spite of harsh government laws prohibiting emigration, by the 1960s 
the exodus was rampant, contributing to the demise of depopulated villages, es- 
pecially after a generation is born and raised in exile, where the invisible 
transmission of their culturally informed technology does not occur. 

Since the 1970’s, many emigrants have returned to their native villages to re- 
tire. They bring pensions and savings with which to create demand for food, 
brought by trucks into the villages and exchanged for cash. The residents of the 
village of Pracais are now nearly all retirees who live in original dwellings but no 
longer practice subsistence agriculture. By 1987 in the Piscansecos, many young 
inheritors had converted the dwellings of their deceased ancestors to vacation 
homes with running water, disregarding traditional mores for water sharing and 
human waste management. This led to overt hostilities from the older, permanent 

imating the cultural basis of their technology. Although aging, many 
of the permanent residents of Ribeiros still practiced aspects of their culturally 
informed subsistence agriculture and depended on it in large part for their liveli- 
hood. My glimpses of this way of life suggested that it depends on three generation 
households in which people of all ages had useful roles to play. The attraction of 
young people away from their culture and land seems to be an integral part of the 
process by which this culture dissolved. A few young Portuguese desire to return 
to the culture and land of their grandparents, but Portuguese society in the late 
twentieth century, under first the dictatorship and then the revolution, seems to 
have lost access to its the culturally informed traditional agricultural technology. 
Some rural parishes have avoided demographic demise by undergoing the transi- 
tion to modern commercial agriculture. Pearson et al. (1987) and Bentley (1992) 
discuss the transition of agriculture in Northwest Portugal to modern technology. 

Of the land cultivated in Ribeiros in 1940, less than 10% was under cultivation 
at the time of this study. However, the centuries of investment in the building of 
retaining walls, and in the creation of the organically rich soil behind them, does not 
rapidly deteriorate when terraces are abandoned. Rarely were walls in need of re- 
pair, and then mostly where they were actively driven or walked over/behind, or 
where water had been allowed to escape from ditches that had been built to carry it 
safely away. Most walls holding long abandoned terraces were in good shape. Espe- 
cially where vegetation cover has grown thick, soil has remained in abandoned 
terraces. As shown in Table 4, this soil maintains its high level of organic matter and 
much of its available water capacity and nutrient levels. In fact, except for plot “e” 
where goats are occasionally corralled, the abandoned plots show little of the ben- 
eficial effects of fallowing, so important in other agricultural systems. 

If traditional technology and willing labor were available, many abandoned 
terraces could be brought back into cultivation with minimal preparation. After 
ten years or more, woody plants begin to establish, often beginning with wild 
black raspberry (Rubus), which is ubiquitous. Broom (Cytisus) and sargaso (Cistus) 
and eventually walnut, chestnut, and oak follow. Owners often plant olive or apple 
trees on their terraces in partial abandonment, hoping to get some harvest with 
minimal care. In this region, some apple and olive trees are grown productively 
when cultivated appropriately, usually not in terraces but on less steep hillsides. 
Pine has been planted in abandoned terraces and managed for turpentine and 


residents, d 


32 ESTABROOK Vol. 18, No. 1 


firewood. Whether planted or natural, trees are difficult to remove from a terrace 
to return it to annual crops. In some parts of the Pracais valley the pine and oak 
forests nearly obscure the ancient terraces on which they are now growing. 

Very damaging to the continuance of traditional agricultural methods here is 
the practice of replacing the heathlands on the upland ridges with eucalyptus. Eu- 
calyptus trees grow rapidly, producing a crop of marketable poles in a few years, 
but draw large quantities of water from the ground, so that the irrigation springs 
below yield less water and dry earlier in the summer. In addition, chemicals pro- 
duced by eucalyptus retard the growth of other plants. In 50 years they have depleted 
the soil and no longer regenerate well, leaving stumps that are hard to remove from 
terrain that has | truly unproductive. Some who ad te rep] g heathlands 
with eucalyptus trees do not fully appreciate how important heathlands are to the 
fertility and water supply of the cultivated terraces below them. 

Forest fires have burned frequently and destructively through out Iberia in 
the past two decades. Damaso (1992) suggests that fires are set during the dry 
season by people with selfish interests. Oak and pine forests take longer to regen- 
erate after a fire, but heathlands begin to regenerate the next season, and may be 
somewhat fire adapted. In 1991, a forest fire swept through the upper Pracais val- 
ley, burning the heathlands and destroying the trees. When I returned to Ribeiros 
in 1993, after two years of no brush with which to restore soil fertility most of the 
residents had gone to live with relatives elsewhere. They are unlikely to practice 
cultivation again. 

Subsistence agriculture with pre-fossil fuel technology has largely ceased asa 
way of life in Portugal. In the region studied, traditional technology and culture 
seem to have sustained an expanding population for hundreds of years, with mini- 
mal spatially or temporally external inputs. The invasion of extrinsic social and 
economic influences seem more likely to explain its discontinuance; traditional 
subsistence agriculture did not fail technically nor deplete its local resources. 


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 


Dra. Graziana Goncalvez Engles, with her husband Prof. Horst Engles, in 1980 and 1984 
took me to the Pracais valley where I saw that effective traditional agricultural technology 
was still practiced by her mother and her neighbors in Piscanseco. I thank the residents of 
Ribeiros whose trust and interest made this work possible; especially Joao de Santos of 
Sobralinho who gave me shelter, Maria Nunes of Malho who gave me food, and her then 10 
year old nephew, Pedro Nunes who helped me during his summer vacation especially with 
the local dialect. Dr. Jose Sovral Dias, director of the Laboratorio Quimica Agricola Ribelo da 
Silva, and his staff, helped perform the chemical analyses of soils and vegetation. Personal 
support and encouragement by him and his family are gratefully acknowledged. The 
friendship and advice of Dr. Manual Bravo Lima, Chief of the Herbarium at the Estacao 
priate Nacional in Oeiras, and the help of his staff member, Dra. Isabel Saraiva, with 
we entification of plants, were very valuable. The sabbatical program of the University of 

gan made possible my continuous presence in Portugal for six months. I wish to thank 
my colleague, Dr. Elaine Joyal, Professor of Human Ecology, my Ph.D. student, David Taylor, 
and my brother, Dr. Carl B. Estabrook, Professor of Early Modern European History for their 
very helpful comments on an earlier draft, and th i f th ultimate 
draft, for their thoughtful and constructive comments. : 


tle pee 


Summer 1998 


JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 33 


LITERATURE CITED 


AZEVEDO, ARIO LOBO, and RUI PINTO 
RICARDO. 1973. Caracterizagae 
Constituigao do Solo, terca edicao, 


a. 

and R. OLSON. 1968. Changing 

Patterns of Fertilizer Use. Soil Science 
Society of America, Chicago. 

BELLA, JOAO ANTONIO DELLA. 1805. 
Tratado d’ lee Teérico- Practica. 
Impressao Regia, Lisboa. 

BENTLEY, JEFFERY W. °1992:— The 
Ethnography of Farming in Northwest 
Portugal. University of Arizona Press, 


Tucson. 

BRETTELL, CAROLINE B. 1986. Men Who 
Migrate, Women Who Wait: Population 
and History in a Portuguese Parish. 
aang a Press, Princeton, 


ew Jer 
CALDAS, JOAO CASTRO. 1981. Caseiros 
de Alto Minho: adaptac4o e declinio. A 
Pequena Agricultura em Portugal 7/ 
8:203-216. 
DAMASO, EDUARDO 1992. Incendios 
florestais. Publico, edigao Lisboa 912:1- 


ESTABROOK, GEORGE F. 1994. Choice of 
fuel for bagaco stills helps maintain 
biological diversity in a traditional 
Portuguese agricultural system. Journal 
of Ethnobiology 14:43-57. 

FRANCO, JOAO DO AMARAL 1971, 1984. 
Nova Flora de Portugal. Volumes [Ie II. 
Sociadade Astoria, Lisboa. 

GRIFFIN, D. F. 1972. Ecology of Soil Fungi. 
Syracuse U. Press, Syracuse, New York. 


LACERDA LOBO, C. BOLELHO de. 1787. 
aes S40 OS MeiOs mais convenientes 

de suprir a falta dos estrumes animais? 
Meméorias de Agricultura Premiadas 
pela Academia Real das Sciéncias. Vol. 
1, pp 239-367. Lisboa 

MAGDOFF, FRED 1992. Building Soils for 
Better Crops ganic Matter 

cians oes University of Nebraska 

Press, Linco 

MOTTA PREGO, JOAO DA. 1898 A Lagoa 
de Donim. Livraria Classica Lisboa. 

OLIVEIRA MARQUES, A. H. DE 1977, 
Introducdo a’ Histéria de Agricultura 
em Portugal. Ediccdes Cosmos, Lisboa. 

PEARSON, SCOTT R., FRANCISCO 
AVILLEZ, JEFFERY W. BENTLEY, 
TIMOTHY J. FINAN, TIMOTHY 
JOSLING, MARK LANGWORTHY, 
ERIC MONKE, and STEFAN 
TANGERMAN (editors). 1987. 
Portuguese Agriculture in Transition. 
Ho University Press, Ithaca, New 


REGISTRO CIVIL DE PAMPILHOSA DA 
SERRA 1880 - 1986. Camera da Vila, 


PAMPILHOSA DA SERRA 1667 - 1880. 
Archive of University of Coimbra, 


Portugal. 

SERRAO, JOEL 1982. A Emigracgao 
Portuguesa. Sabon edicao Livros 
Horizonte, Lis 

UNDERDOWN, DAVID 1985. Revel, Riot 
and Rebellion, Chapter 3. Oxford 
University Press, Oxford. 


BOOK REVIEW 


People, Plants, and Landscapes: Studies in Paleoethnobotany. Kristen J. 
Gremillion, editor. University of Alabama Press, Tuscaloosa. 1997. Pp. xviii; 
271. $29.95 Le gotee) ISBN: SES 0827-x. 


One of the mo: 


growing ‘ection of the ese ey to 
prisingly little emphasis has been placed on 


of archaeology this century is that, despite 


human societies of plant resources, sur- 


the recovery and interpretation of those 


remains by archaeologists. There have been notable exceptions, of course, as repre- 
sented by the work of Braidwood, Yarnell, Flannery, Watson, and others, and by the 


1970s 


ly being conducted by a small num- 


ber of practitioners across North America ‘to produce an unprecedented wealth of 


34 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


information on prehistoric plant use. Yet full acceptance of paleoethnobotany as a 
vital component of archaeology has been surprisingly slow, and in some respects, it 
has been ghettoized. Despite its immense potential to contribute information perti- 
nent to both Big Questions (e.g., where and when were plants first domesticated?) 
and those of more local significance (e.g., what plants were eaten at this site?), the 
recovery and analysis of samples for paleoethnobotanical sampling are still not rou- 
tinely practiced at most archaeological sites. 

This well-edited volume offers a strong challenge to this situation by demon- 
strating how clearly paleoethnobotany can illuminate aspects of past settlement, 
subsistence, and economic practices otherwise inaccessible. No less importantly, 
it offers new ways of thinking about the relationships that have existed between 
people and the dy ic landscapes they occupied, with each influencing the other. 

The collection is derived from a Society of American Archaeology symposi 
in honor of Richard Yarnell, a pioneer in this field, who in 1992 received the society’s 
Fryxell Award for Interdisciplinary Research. Most of the contributors are former 
students or colleagues of Yarnell. United under the banner of human ecology, the 
authors explore two central themes: first, the process by which paleoethnobotany 
has evolved into a multidisciplinary entity, armed with formidable tools (e.g., elec- 
tron microscopy, accelerator dating); and second, the development of a set of robust 

planatory tools that include the integration of ecological and evolutionary theory. 
This approach gives this collection a coherence seldom found in festschrifts; in- 
deed as Bruce Smith notes in the foreword, “There is much in this book that would 
please Yarnell far more than any glowing praise for him.” 

In both her well-crafted preface and introduction, Gremillion sketches the de- 
velopment of paleoet y in North America, and how it has gradually shifted 
from description to explanation, with impetus provided by Julian Steward, Leslie 
White, and others. This short essay identifies several major themes in the history of 
the discipline, and thus provides a firm base for the chapters that follow. 

__ The first part of the collection, “The Archaeological Record of Plant Domestica- 
tion and Utilization, ” explores the evidence for the development of food production 
primarily in eastern North America, which is now viewed as an independent center 
of plant domestication. Patty Jo Watson begins with a succinct summary of the de- 
velopment of modern paleoethnobotany in the Near East, Eastern Woodlands, and 
Southwest, which has “proceeded at different rates and along different trajectories” 
in each region. Kristen Gremillion re-examines a collection of plant remains origi- 
nally recovered in Kentucky in the 1930s, using hol 
to explain increases in seed size of sumpweed, chenopodium, and other species 
through domestication. An amazing collection of five charred bags of seeds stored 
in an Arkansas rock shelter (also excavated in the 1930s) is investigated by Gayle 
Fritz, whose analysis of cucurbits, sunflower, and sumpweed from the cache indi- 
cates that plant husbandry was already well developed by 3000 years ago. Additional 
evidence for the indigenous development of Cucurbita pepo is further explored by 
Wesley Cowan’s study of seed morphology in archaeobotanical samples from Ken- 
tucky. The final paper in this section is by Gary Crawford, whose study of the 
ecological processes of domestication in Jomon Japan provides new insights into 
human influences on local landscape development. 

The second part of the book, “Plant Resources, Human Communities, and 


Py ape Mme Fe 
ors 


pe | 
Q@Litd oLlLe Lil 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 35 


Anthropogenic Landscapes,” focuses on the cultural and ecological contexts of 
plant domestication and management. Margaret Scarry and Vincas Steponaitis 
examine changes in agricultural strategies associated with the rise the late prehis- 
toric Moundville (Alabama) polity; paleoethnobotanical evidence there suggests 
that crop production strategies, such as communal fields, may have served as a 
type of risk management, while also influencing local landscape development. 
The application of evolutionary ecology models to understanding the transition 
from foraging to farming is detailed by Bruce Winterhalder and Carol Goland, 
who evaluate diet breadth, risk analysis, and production efficiency. Their study 
complements Paul Gardner’s predictive modeling of nut productivity and har- 
vesting for Eastern Woodlands foragers, whose response to processing costs and 
periodicity of mast yields may have prepared them for post-foraging food pro- 
duction. The remaining two chapters utilize historical sources to explore the 
relationship of people to plants at very different scales. Gregory Waselkov relates 
a shift in Creek and Seminole agricultural field location to the development of the 
18th century market economy, while Julia Hammett offers a sweeping survey of 
North American aboriginal plant management strategies, correlated to the geo- 
graphic distribution of economically important plant families and agricultural 
intensification during the late Holocene. 

What shortcomings the volume has are minor. All but one of the chapters focus 
on eastern North America, leaving Crawford's valuable study on plant domestica- 
tion and anthropogenesis in Jomon Japan geographically isolated and not as well 
integrated into the collection as it should be. In fact, a different organizational sch 
might have reduced the sometimes awkward feel of seemingly dissimilar chapters 
bound together within Parts land 2, although each addresses the general issues 
used to define each part. There is also considerable difference in the length of chap- 
ters, leaving one wishing for a little more from Watson (13 pages) and a little less 
from Winterhalder and Goland (38 pages). Still, these are more preferential than 
problematic points. The volume is well illustrated and indexed, and the use of his- 
torical maps and paintings in two final chapters is particularly informative. 

This collection ultimately works well at two complementary levels, the first 
concerned with what we now know about past use of plant resources, and the 
second with how we know what we know. It therefore serves as a valuable re- 
source for both students and scholars interested in the dynamic nature of past 
human-environment interactions, and complements other recent volumes, par- 
ticularly Hastorf and Popper’s Current Paleoethnobotany (1988). 

Paleoethnobotany has become an indispensable component of contemporary 
archaeology, yet many remain unaware of its potential. In a letter cited by 
Gremillion (p. 23), William Webb wrote to botanist Volney Jones in 1935: I have 
stirred through Indian beds and shoveled out bushels of ‘trash’ which in my igno- 
rance I regarded as valueless. I now know that I have probably destroyed a large 
body of valuable information.” This volume reminds us of how valuable that in- 
formation may be. 


George P. Nicholas 

Department of Archaeology 

Simon Fraser University /Secwepemce Education Institute 
Kamloops, British Columbia, CANADA V2H 1H1 


36 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


Of Marshes and Maize: Preceramic Agricultural Settlements in the Cienega 
Valley, Southeastern Arizona. Bruce Huckell. University of Arizona Press, 
Tucson. Anthropological Papers of the University of Arizona No. 59. 1995. Pp. 
xvii; 166. $13.95 (paper). ISBN: 0-8165-1582-4. 

Bruce Huckell’s monograph reports the results of his research on aceramic 
sites in Matty Canyon Wash and integrates those findings with the information of 
other studies to generate a model of the subsistence-settlement system of south- 
eastern Arizona’s late preceramic populations. Those readers who have kept abreast 
of the discussions and debates on early southwestern agriculture presented over 
the past ten years will find Huckell’s work a capstone argument for models which 
recognize early maize production as the crucial factor explaining the transforma- 
tion from mobile to sedentary settlement. Those who have not will find the book 
provides clear guidance through the maze (pun intended) of claims and counter 
claims proposed by competing models that suggest early maize production had 
minimal impact on the cultural character of populations of the day. Huckell’s work 
was undertaken with the expectation of acquiring new information from one site 
(Donaldson, AZ:EE:2:137) that had been tested and studied twenty-five years ear- 
lier and another (Los Ojitos, AZ:EE:2:137) newly exposed by erosion some distance 
downstream. Prior reports on the results of archaeological survey and testing op- 
erations, geomorphological research, and palynological studies in the Cienega 
Creek Basin long before Huckell’s excavations were initiated had provided sub- 
stantial evidence that Late Archaic populations in this area created sedentary 
communities on the local floodplains, where they cultivated maize. This evidence 
was not widely acknowledged nor appreciated, however, and Huckell’s decision 
to recover additional data and to study the Donaldson site in the context of more 
recently acquired information and new frames of reference was a sound one. 

Fully a quarter of the text is devoted to analyses of the floral, faunal and hu- 
man remains recovered at the two sites. These are presented as chapters of the 
monograph, rather than appendices, and are clearly integral to the development 
of Huckell’s conclusions. For example, Lisa Huckell’s analysis of the plant 
macroremains from seven pits and two pithouses at the Donaldson site provide 
convincing evidence that “a system of maize agriculture combined with gathering 
of wild plant resources...was maintained by these people, who resided in an opti- 
mal area in which to successfully blend these economic strategies” (p. 97). In 
addition, the analysis of the vertebrate bone data suggests that the procurement 
strategy of Donaldson’s residents, like that of later Hohokam sites, was focused 
on larger mammals because the increased search time, travel distance and trans- 
iS was offset by a greater payoff in protein, hides, sinew, and bone for 

All in all, the ethnobiological studies provide strong support for Huckell’s 
reconstruction of the subsistence-settlement system of the occupants of the Late 
Archaic sites of the Cienega Basin and his regional model of foraging, farming 
and sedentism in southeastern Arizona. Thus I find the monograph well con- 
structed, well done and generally praiseworthy. However, I think Huckell overdoes 
it when, at the beginning of the final chapter, he asserts: 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 37 


“The 1983 investigations at the Donaldson Site and Los Ojitos... have fun- 
damentally changed our understanding of the settlement and subsistence 
strategies of societies in southeastern Arizona in the mid to late first millen- 
nium before Christ... Of particular importance is the evidence of how 
agriculture became integrally woven into the fabric of these societies. By at 
least 500 B. C., the basic elements of the mixed farming-foraging economy 
that typified the next 2000 years of southwestern prehistory were clearly 
present.” (p. 117) 


For one thing, the only new evidence for subsistence strategy provided by his 
excavations is the demonstration that maize was a significant aspect of the diet. 
Prior information had clearly indicated maize was grown, and the two structures 
Huckell recovered (as he realizes) are not more definitive evidence of sedentism 
than existed previously. Further, if the faunal materials Huckell recovered were 
the sole body of evidence for a reconstruction of the animal procurement strategy, 
his contention that large mammals were favored over leporids would not be ten- 
able. Eddy’s excavations produced 75% of the artiodactyl remains known for the 
site while Huckell’s yielded 63% of the leporid bones. 

For another, there is actually no clear evidence that agriculture was “firmly 
woven into the fabric” of Cienega Phase population culture (or cultures). The evi- 
dence informs us only that subsistence-settlement systems at Donaldson and a 
number of Cienega Phase sites were characterized by production and consump- 
tion of food plants and non-mobile residency. Extension of this knowledge to 
reconstruction of the character of Cienega Phase societies requires the debatable 
assumption that the cultural importance of maize production is properly mea- 
sured by its ubiquity in secondary trash deposits. ee 

Finally, the idea that food production is an adequate archaeological index of 
agriculture is anthropologically naive. Anthropologically speaking, agriculture is 
a type of economy in which food production is a crucial element in the interactive 
relationships of social, political, and religious subsystems as well as a behavior 
pattern that is structurally significant for the ways members ofa society maintain 
their standard of living. All groups who produce food do not participate in agri- 
cultural economies, and all who do participate in them do not necessarily cultivate 
the food they consume. Huckell’s book does not reveal the warp and woof of the 
fabric of Cienega Phase society. The subsistence-settlement system may beno more 
than a pattern painted on its surface. io 

I believe Huckell’s appreciation of the value and necessity of recognizing the 
archaeological distinctions between San Pedro Phase and Cienega Phase assem- 
blages is fully justified, but I find his re-labeling of the period from about 1500 B. 
C. to the time of the arrival of pottery in the first millennium untenable. Sites on 
the Colorado Plateau and other parts of the northern southwest are labeled Late 
Archaic” if they yield no evidence (macroremains) of maize cultivation and 
“Basketmaker II” if they do. Basketmaker II sites, however, are contemporary with 
the sites in southeastern Arizona and the Mogollon Highlands that are labeled 
“Late Archaic” because they contain evidence of maize cultivation. There's not 
much question that this awkward situation should be corrected. But Huckell pro- 


38 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


poses to leave the term “Late Archaic” in place for the period of time prior to the 
arrival of maize in the southwest and label the period of time subsequent to that 
date and prior to the use of pottery as the “Early Agricultural Period.” 

I consider this unwise. The Early Agricultural Period label is far less tempo- 
rally controlled than we should prefer. The timing of the introduction of maize to 
the southwest is presently a matter of debate. Similarly, the true antiquity of the 
earliest southwestern pottery is difficult to pin down. Further, as he defines it, the 
Early Agricultural Period label suggests that prehistoric populations who added 
food production to their inventory of cultural behaviors thereby revolutionized 
their cultural systems and adopted a distinctive economic adaptation, irrespec- 
tive of the way those behaviors were related to the particulars of the population’s 
history or to its cultural institutions. Huckell is not alone in assuming that ar- 
chaeological evidence for maize production identifies an adaptive behavior that 
must have had significant impact on the cultural ecology and economy of any 
ancient group. But, to my knowledge, that assumption has not been convincingly 
tested. Until it is, the label he proposes reflects a particular form of cultural evolu- 
tionist bias rather than the sort of general cultural condition ppropriately signified 
by the labels we apply to horizons of culture history. 


James Schoenwetter 
Department of Anthropology 
Arizona State University 
Tempe AZ 85287-2402 


Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):39-67 Summer 1998 


INCANTATIONS AND HERBAL MEDICINES: ALUNE 
ETHNOMEDICAL KNOWLEDGE IN A CONTEXT OF 
CHANGE 


MARGARET J. FLOREY 
Department of Linguistics, La Trobe University 
Bundoora, Victoria 3083, Australia 


XENIA Y. WOLFF 
Botanical consultant 
9441 Belair Rd, Baltimore MD 21236, USA 


ABSTRACT.—An analysis of healing practices among the Alune people of Seram 
Island, eastern Indonesia, reveals that in the pre-Christian era, healers treated 
illnesses and midwifery concerns with herbal medicines made from a wide range 
of plant, animal, and mineral matter. If a patient failed to respond to herbal 
medicines, the illness was considered to have arisen in ancestral reprisal for the 
misdeeds of the patient or toh derived from the destructi gic of 
In such cases treatment required divination of the source of the problem followed 
+} re c és A os “ . cs seg deis eae 


J oe See } 
Conversion to Christianity early in the twentieth century led to the suppression 
of many pre-Christian practices, including traditional health care practices, and 
abruptly interrupted transmission of such knowledge. Concomitant with social 
changes, language shift to the regional Malay variety, Ambonese Malay, is also 
occurring. A contrast can be d bety Alune villages which have, until very 
recently, been protected from rapid sociopolitical and linguistic changes by their 
relative remoteness in mountain locations, and villages which have relocated to 
sites nearer to the coast and ha bject t i i f change 
We compare the situation in two sites reflecting these different patterns. In both 
the inland location of Lohiasapalewa and the relocated coastal village of Lohiatala, 
the use of herbal medicines is associated with the pre-Christian era and 
transmission of this knowledge has greatly diminished. In Lohiasapalewa a very 
few elderly people covertly utilize curative incantations while villagers born 
following religious change have had restricted access to ancestral practices. As a 
result, use of curative incantations appears to have almost completely ceased at 
this site. A contrasting outcome is noted in Lohiatala where, in the absence of 
tr iccj AN 4: ie tr, th ‘ nt, 


I ¢ 


f c . 1 Lin 


£. 4 4} £. 4 £ £399 ; tat 
+ J vee 


younger p ple | et : 
and utilizing such knowledge from the wider Moluccan community. 
RESUMEN.— Un anilisis de las practicas curativas entre los alune de la Isla ~- 
Seram. Indonesia oriental. revela tes de la era cristiana | d trataba 
4 , ne ‘ rior om j 

enfermedades y partos con medicinas herbarias puestas de un rango amplio 
de materiales de plantas, animales y minerales. Si el paciente no respondié a las 

¢ Pee ideré una represalia para fechorias de 
n tales casos, el 


mMedicinas herhariac la 

la paciente o derivada de la magia destructiva de hechiceros. E 

tratamiento se exigid la divinacién del origen del problema, sequido por la 

recitacién de coniuros tivos junto con auxilios no medicinales. La conversion 
J ae £ nhl 

a la cristianidad temprano por el siglo xx llev6 a la supresion de muchas practicas 


40 


FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


pre-cristianas, incluso a practicas curativas tradicionales, y interumpi6 
bruscamente la transmisi6n de tal conocimiento. Junto con los cambios sociales, 
también esta diendo el cambio de idi hacia la variedad regional de malay, 


a e 
estos padrones diferentes. En tanto la localidad del interior de Lohiasapalewa y el 
pueblo costero reubicado de Lohiatala, el uso d dicinas herbari n 
con la era pre-cristiana, y la transmisi6n de este conocimiento ha disminuido 
bastante. En Lohiasapalewa, unos pocos ancianos utilizan furtivamente conjuros 
curativos, mientras que los poblanos que nacieron después de los cambios 
religiosos han tenido acceso restringido a las prdcticas ancestrales. Como 
; ] dad : rt 5 ae Al . Lot re 


e relaciona 


I 


1 , 
en este lugar. Un resultad contrastant ta en Lohiatala, donde en la ausencia 
de la transmisién de prdcticas alunenses y en respuesta al ambiente actual, los 
mas jOvenes han transformado la forma y la funcién de los conjuros por buscar y 
utilizar tal conocimiento de la més amplia comunidad molucana. 


RESUME. — Une analyse des pratiques thérapeutiques des Alune de Seram, en 
Indonésie orientale, montre qu’avant l’arrivée du christianisme, les guérisseurs 
traitaient les maladies générales et les troubles obstétricaux au moyen de 
médi ts a base de plantes qui étaient fabriqués a partir d’une grande variété 
de produits naturels. Si un patient n’était pas réceptif a un traitement par les 
plantes, la maladie était considérée comme la répression d’un comportement 
individuel ou était attribuée a la sorcellerie maléfique. Dans de tels cas, le traitement 
exigeait une action divinatoire pour révéler la source du probléme, suivie 

ia indi ccs ecitées d t emploi de produits naturels. La 
conversion au christianisme au début du XXe siécle entraina la disparition des 
pratiques thérapeutiques traditi et mit fin brusquement a la transmission 
d’un tel savoir. Parallélement a ces changements sociaux, on assiste également a 
un déplacement de langage vers une variété régionale de malais, le malais 
ambonais. On peut contraster les villages alune qui, jusqu’a tout récemment, ont 

ts pe Os ny : Youe 


Iincantato vy 
i 


1 
peut €tre modifié 4 travers un processus de déplacement linguistique et de 
changement social. Dans la communauté intérieure de Lohiasapalewa, la 
connaissance et l'utilisation des incantations curatives semblent étre disparues. 
Tandis que les gens plus Agés se souviennent et peuvent utiliser secrétement ces 
incantations, les vill 


village qui pete réinstallé dans un environnement cétier. Ici, en I’absence de 
ce 3 : ee 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 41 


INTRODUCTION 


Alune is an Austronesian language spoken in 26 villages in west Seram, in the 
eastern Indonesian province of Maluku. During this century, and particularly during 
the last 50 years, rapid sociocultural and economic changes resulting from increased 
contact with non-Alune peoples have occurred in the majority of these villages. Dur- 
ing this period extensive changes have also occurred in health care practices. 

e Alune assert that there are primarily two sources for illness - those which 
are attributed to a physical cause and those which result from the malevolent ac- 
tion of humans or supernatural beings practicing destructi gic. In earlier times, 
Alune healing practices involved either the use of herbal medicines made from 
plants and other matter or the recitation of incantations in conjunction with (non- 
medicinal) aids made of animal, plant or mineral matter. [lInesses attributed to a 
physical cause could be treated by herbal medicines or, in some cases, by the reci- 
tation of incantations. Similarly, midwifery practices drew on the use of herbal 
medicines and the recitation of incantations. However, illnesses resulting from the 
practice of destructive magic were amenable only to treatment by incantations 
following the divination of the source of the illness. 

Contemporary Alune society is overtly Christian, with conversion to Calvin- 
ist Protestantism having occurred throughout this century. In the pre-Christian 
era, Alune cosmology focused on placating ancestral and local nature spirits, such 
as Tuale, the sun god, Dabike, the moon goddess, and spirits of the earth (tapele)! 
and sky (lanite). The goodwill of the spirit world was regarded as necessary for 
ensuring the health and vitality of the living and the productivity of the environ- 
ment. This goodwill could be achieved and maintained, in part, through the 
chanting of incantations to invoke the spirits of ancestors or deities who could 
mediate on behalf of human beings. Religious change has resulted in the active 
suppression by missionaries and ministers of pre-Christian practices, including 
those relating to health care. Treatment of illness and injury today lar gely involves 
prayer, either as the sole healing tool or in combination with Western medicines 
which are administered by a regional health practitioner (known in Ambonese 
Malay as mantri.). However, research undertaken in two Alune villages revealed 
a substratum of knowledge about both herbal medicines and incantations. There 
is evidence that some pre-Christian healing practices retain a role in present-day 
Alune society, although the distribution of such knowledge among members of 
the community and patterns of use have clearly changed. 

We will first describe the two research sites and our research methodology. 
We will then discuss healing practices using herbal medicines, describing the ill- 
nesses amenable to such treatment, the ingredients, and the forms of treatment. 
We also discuss the use of herbal medicines in midwifery practices. Third, we 
consider healing practices involving incantations, describing the healers, sources 
of knowledge, illnesses treated, and methods of treatment. Finally, we examine 
the processes of change, analysing the role of several factors in changing health 
care practices and in changes in the transmission and distribution of knowledge. 


42 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


RESEARCH SITES 


to either the north or the south coast, the villagers of Lohiasapalewa have success- 
fully resisted all attempts to impose relocation upon them. In the 1950s and early 
1960s a guerrilla conflict was fought in Central Maluku between the Republik 
Maluku Selatan (RMS) separatist movement and the Indonesian military forces. 
Fear of the forces on both sides of the conflict caused the villagers to abandon their 
houses throughout the thirteen years of this conflict, however they rejected gov- 
ernment pressure to move to the coast and remained in the forest within their 
village territory. The villagers also resisted an attempt by local government au- 
thorities to relocate the village in 1970. The relative isolation of their location has 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 43 


Waihatu, comprised of people from Lombok and Java who moved to Seram as 
part of the central government's transmigrasi program which aims to relocate 
populations to reduce pressures on the more overcrowded Indonesian islands. 
Further south are the non-Alune villages of Waesamu and Hatusua. Bordering 
Lohiatala’s territory to the north are the Alune villages of Rumberu and Rumbatu. 
In 1992 Lohiatala had a population of 728 in 110 households. 

Unlike Lohiasapalewa, which is located within sub t inforest, the people 
of Lohiatala occupy lowland territory largely comprising secondary forest at varying 
stages of regrowth, planted groveland, garden land, sago swamps, grassland, and the 
settlement site of the village. While dry rice fields were planted in this location, the 

a 1 1 1 | in rec ent B 4 ss | uh I hus Lot } ig } 
wet rice fields. Lohiatala’s former village site largely consists of lowland primary for- 
est, mature secondary forest, bamboo thickets, planted groveland, and grassland. 
Products are still harvested from this site, particularly by older villagers. 

In contrast to Lohiasapalewa, Lohiatala has undergone d ti 
and linguistic changes since the 1950s. The process of language shift to Ambonese 
Malay is well advanced in Lohiatala, and there are clear generational differences 
in knowledge and use of the Alune language and Alune practices (Florey 1991, 
1993, 1997). 


lt 1 


METHODOLOGY 


The initial goal of research conducted by Florey in the lowland village of 
Lohiatala was the study of language shift and language obsolescence (Florey 1990). 
During the course of learning and analysing the Alune language and its changing 
patterns of use in Lohiatala, information concerning plant lore and pre-Christian 
sociocultural practices emerged. Although the recording of Alune plant names 
and their uses was not undertaken systematically during this period, information 
learned in the course of fieldwork provided an initial database on which later 
ethnobotanical research could build. me 

hei tigation of i tations and their practice proved both more difficult 
and more intriguing by comparison. Information was initially gleaned, often in- 
advertently, through di ions with members of the community. While comments 
alluding to the role of incantations in pre-Christian life were quite frequent, direct 
requests for information were always met with a denial of any personal knowl- 
edge of them, often accompanied by a referral to other members of the community 
said to be more knowledgeable. Apparent contradictions emerged from early dis- 
cussions. As Boulan-Smit (1992) noted for the Alune community of Manusa, many 
older Lohiatala consultants strongly rejected the notion that incantations were still 
used in the village and echoed a belief in God in place of the use of en 
and pre-Christian healing methods. However another perspective was se es 
by an elderly man who stated that there are people in Lohiatala who still know 
how to use incantations: “They don’t trust in God, but trust instead in their incan- 
tations.” Statements such as the following were common: 


we can’t choose be- 


“Yes, if we use that [incantations], we are not human, 
we behave 


tween one thing and another. But because God works with us, 


44 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


in certain ways and must throw that [knowledge] away. If not, we will be 
ruined, ruined!” 


However, after working in Lohiatala for approximately five months, an eld- 
erly villager expressed his willingness to discuss the use of curative incantations. 
During one research session, six i tations were recorded and a description was 
given of the way the incantations were used in conjunction with aids such as oil, 
water, or mineral lime. These data formed the basis for future exchanges of knowl- 
edge with other villagers. Florey found she was, in effect, able to trade this 
knowledge for further information concerning incantations. Towards the end of 
that field season, two principal research consultants and the family with whom 
Florey lived provided several incantations as gifts. In these ways, a corpus of 13 

tive incantati compiled, together with 15 incantations concerning topics 
beyond the scope of the present paper (such as hunting, harvest increase, and 
destructive medicine). 

In 1992 research moved to the highland village of Lohiasapalewa. The pur- 
pose of the move was to base research in a site that was linguistically more 
conservative in order to compare language use in two quite different locations. 
Once established in this village, it became apparent that this was also a promising 
location in which to carry out extensive ethnobiological work. In order to under- 
take these specialized studies, two additional researchers became involved.” 
Perea aco work began in 1993, and Wolff commenced botanical work in 


Botanical research began by checking with the principal research assistant, 
Mr. Wempi Manakane, the lexical database of botanical terms previously recorded 
in Lohiatala and Lohiasapalewa. We made a work plan each evening for the fol- 
lowing day based on information already gathered and targeting the information 
we were still seeking. Information concerning herbal medicines is now largely 
restricted to a small number of older villagers in Lohiasapalewa. Such knowledge 
has been acquired by only a very few younger villagers in Lohiasapalewa who 
continue to value the ways of their elders. Hence our work plan entailed deter- 
mining the location of people with specialist knowledge and the location of specific 
plants. We worked with these people around the village settlement, in nearby gat 
dens, and at locations further afield in primary and secondary forest. Manakane 
arranged visits to villagers in their gardens and accompanied Wolff and Florey to 
field sites. 
___Lohiasapalewa is subject to heavy rainfall throughout the year, concentrated 
in the afternoon and evening. Therefore we set out for our planned research loca- 
tion shortly after sunrise and usually worked at the site(s) until early afternoon. 
For each plant, Wolff collected relevant samples, photographed the plant in situ, 
and recorded data such as leaf measurement, plant height, plant width, descrip- 
tions of flowers and fruits, and agricultural practices. Florey recorded Alune names 
and descriptive terminology for the plant, with respect to its morphology, stages 
of growth, agricultural practices, etc. Data were also recorded in Ambonese Malay 
and Indonesian when known. Extensive ethnographic notes were taken, includ- 
ing known uses of each plant and its importance in Alune life. We discussed 
agricultural practices, garden site selection and layout, and preservation techniques 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 45 


for harvested crops with villagers in situ. We urged healers to discuss and demon- 
strate the use of plants for medicinal purposes. We took photograpl! ppropriat 

Plant samples were processed after returning from the field site by labeling 
each sample and pressing and/or preserving it in silica gel. Field notes were sys- 
tematically organized. Ethnographic data were collated and cross-checked with 
relevant community members. For example, data concerning plants used in mid- 
wifery practices were discussed and verified with women with the inherited right 
to Alune midwifery knowledge. All linguistic data were checked with several Alune 
speakers. 

Work also continued in the village, gathering information from people with 
specialized healing knowledge. Florey worked extensively with an elderly 
Lohiasapalewa man who had retained the knowledge and practice of healing in- 
cantations. Due to the sensitivity of this information, the work was undertaken in 
private. Incantations recorded previously in Lohiatala could not be cross-checked 
there because of the demise of the elderly consultants. Therefore, these data were 
checked with the Lohiasapalewa consultant, who also contributed eleven addi- 
tional healing incantations and descriptions of their use. 

Following the field research period, the collected data (plant samples, photo- 
graphs, notes) formed the basis for plant identification by Wolff. Sources for 
identification included collections held in the Herbarium Bogoriense, the 
Smithsonian Institution Herbarium, and relevant published materials. As the plants 
were identified, the Latin names were incorporated into a larger database collat- 
ing linguistic, botanical, and ethnographic information for each plant. This corpus 
forms the basis for the present paper. 


HERBAL MEDICINES: TREATMENT OF AILMENTS 
WITH A PHYSICAL CAUSE 


A wide range of common illnesses and injuries are known and named in Alune. 
An important contrast is drawn by the Alune between common illnesses which 
are perceived to have a physical cause, and ailments which are considered to re- 
sult from the malevolent action of humans or supernatural beings practicing 
destructive magic. Ailments in the former category indicate the everyday health 
concerns of the community. They include: bleeding from wounds, burns, colds 
and influenza, cough and sore throat, diarrhea, ear infection, eye infection, fever, 
goiter, headache, head lice and dandruff, infected wounds, intestinal parasites, 
jaundice, muscular pain, sprains, broken bones, nausea, poisoning and snake _ 
skin complaints (ichtyosis, scabies, irritant reactions to plants or insects, — 
infections), smallpox, toothache, and urinary tract infection. Appendix 1 describes 
in detail the preparation of medicines for the treatment of these diseases. 

Women with the inherited right to practice midwifery address issues of con- 
ception, contraception, and delivery as well as treating a range of posepere 
conditions. Treatments are provided for the following conditions: to prevent mn 
ception, to regulate menstruation, to end unwanted pregnancies, to assis 
conception of a male or female child (as per the parents’ expressed desire), to speed 
a slow or difficult labor, to cleanse and/or strengthen a woman following birth, to 
remove post-partum blood clots, to heal a post-partum swollen belly, and to treat 


46 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


engorged breasts. Appendix 2 describes in detail the preparation of medicines used 
by midwives. Where available, Alune names for ailments and gynecological or 
obstetric conditions are noted alongside headings in the appendices. The appen- 
dices also provide the Alune name, English name and Latin identification (when 
known) of plants, and their medicinal application. 


Ingredients used in healing and midwifery practices.—The ailments listed above which 
are diagnosed as having a physical cause, and the conditions which fall within a 
midwife’s care, can be treated with medicines made from plant, animal, or min- 
eral matter found in the village territory. All herbal medicines minimally contain 
plant material and may also contain other ingredients. Sixty-two plants were iden- 
tified as ingredients in medicines used to treat ailments which are diagnosed as 
having a physical cause, and a further 15 plants were identified as ingredients in 
medicines used in midwifery practices. Villagers in Lohiasapalewa asserted that, 
in earlier times, plants which could be used for healing (ai ‘watai) were planted 
near the garden hut in each newly-established garden. This practice has dimin- 
ished with increased access to Western medicines 

In addition to plant materials, twelve plant by-products and non-plant ingre- 
dients used in medicines have been identified (see Table 1). In contrast to the 
extensive use of plant material in healing, very few medicinal recipes were Te- 
corded which use animal products. These animal products are mineral lime, turtle 
shell, egg, and honey. The lime is most commonly extracted from freshwater mus- 
sel shells (lopon inai) which are dried, baked, and pounded. 


Preparation and application of medicines.—The application of herbal medicines var 
ies according to the nature of the ailment and the ingredients used in the medicine. 
The medicine may be applied as a poultice or compress, rubbed on as a massage 
ointment, drunk as a potion, or infused. Very few treatments require eating spe 
cific foodstuffs; however, the banana tema ‘watnabane (Musa fehi) is eaten as a 
treatment for jaundice and for bladder infections. 

While an illness or injury may be treated by several different preparations, 
certain generalizations can be drawn about the treatment of particular illnesses OTF 
injuries. Bleeding is staunched with the application of a poultice made from one of 
a number of plants, primarily grasses which are readily available in the village 
residential area, as well as in gardens and secondary forest in which villagers may 
be working or hunting. Nausea is treated through the external application of stimu- 
lants: tobacco (Nicotiana tabacum), betel nut palm (Areca catechu), clove (Syzygium 
aromaticum). Oily substances are applied to treat irritant reactions to certain plants 
and animals: coconut oil (derived from Cocos nucifera), candlenut (Aleurites 
moluccana). Burns are treated with the application of gluey poultices. Colds an 
influenza are treated by rubbing the head with medicinal shampoos. Medicines 
for malaria tend to consist of bitter-tasting drinks. Urinary tract infections are 
by plants which color the urine a bright yellow. 


Medicinal properties—Most of the plants used for healing are held to have only one 


medicinal property. However, from our corpus eight plants serve multiple pur 
poses and indicate their wider utility in healing (see Table 2). 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 47 


CURATIVE INCANTATIONS 


Despite the wide range of plant, animal, and mineral matter known and avail- 
able as ingredients in herbal medicines, and the extensive range of illnesses and 
injuries which they can treat, the Al | ledge that th il 
remain resistant to a medicinal cure. If an injury or disease attributed to a physical 
cause persisted despite the application of herbal medicines, community members 
with special healing powers were called upon to divine the source of the ailment, 
which might then be rediagnosed as having been caused by destructive magic. 
Some such ailments were diagnosed as deriving from ancestral spirits in reprisal 
for the behaviour of an individual who had contravened social norms by commit- 
ting, for example, adultery (soune) or theft (mleane). Ancestral spirits (nitu matale) 
might also exact retribution for the contravention of custom: for example, through 
a marriage between two people who were too closely related according to custom- 
ary law, or through failure to keep a promise made to a dying person. Alternati ely, 
illness might be diagnosed as arising from the malevolent acts of humans, or from 
evil beings (lita) who could harm and potentially kill humans by “sending” an 
illness or injury to a chosen victim. 

In cases where ailments or injuries were rediagnosed as having been caused 
by destructive magic, incantations were employed to attempt to cure the patient. 
The recitation of incantations was usually accompanied by the use of plant or 
animal products, however the latter were regarded as an aid in the application of 
incantations and were not held to be herbal medicines. Similar practices have been 
widely reported throughout the Austronesian region (cf. Bolton 1994, Ellen 1993b, 
Errington 1986, Glick 1967, Ooy 1994, Taylor 1988). The use of incantations in Alune 
healing practices reflects attempts to understand, predict, and control the physical 
and spiritual environment. 


The healers and their sources of knowledge.—Healers with knowledge of curative in- 
cantations are known in Alune as ma’aleru ‘one who heals’, which derives from 
the verb lerue ‘to heal by blowing an incantation over someone’. Healers must 
possess both the appropriate linguistic knowledge to perform the incantations 
together with a knowledge of the products (plant, animal, and mineral) which are 
aids ing tl + ation of incantations. The ma’aleru could derive knowl- 
edge from several sources. Incantations were occasionally given as a gift and, very 
rarely, could be bought from a practitioner. The practice of selling incantations or 
giving them as gifts was uncommon because incantations were considered to be a 
source of wealth, and knowledge which is given away 15 lost to the former owner 
(cf. Valeri 1990). ee 

More commonly, incantations were learned from parents or inherited from ~ 
cestors. However, while younger family members could study healing from if - 
elders, they were unable to utilize the knowledge fully during their parents life- 
times. Historically, each person or family owned their own healing incantations. 
Transmission could occur through a dream, as in the case of one young na 
Lohiatala, who received his knowledge of healing incantations from his wife’s ( de- 
ceased) grandparents. This man asserted that it is potentially dangerous ea 


1 re 


knowledge directly from other people, but t the info 


4 : Se 
VV LEILA 


48 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


parallels the way that biblical personages received divine inspiration. In his dream, 
transmission occurred at Lohiatala’s former village site. Another young man in this 
village also received his healing knowledge from a dream. He dreamt he had a book 
with healing charms and woke and found this was real. Once he had learnt the 
incantations the book disappeared. Some knowledge of incantations was received 
from non-human sources. According to Alune historical mythology narrated in 
Lohiasapalewa, the common palm civet (lau, ti’/luline) gave healers some of their 
knowledge of healing, and they are prohibited from eating this animal. 

There are two categories of practitioners of midwifery in Alune society: the 
biane ‘midwife’, and the ma’selu, literally ‘one who sees’, a healer who assisted 
after childbirth by inspecting the newborn child and repairing physical problems, 
such as straightening crooked limbs. The ma’selu also carried out the task of ritu- 
ally washing a woman and her newborn child before they left the birthing hut 
(luma posone) and returned to their house. The ma’selu then carried the baby 
home to his or her waiting family. Alune midwifery knowledge was derived from 
the cuscus (marele), however there are no prohibitions on eating this animal. 


Ailments treated by curative incantations —The corpus of incantations contains cures 
for the following ailments: bleeding, breathing difficulties, centipede bite, stom- 
ach ailment, fever (including fever caused by being caught in rain which occurs 
while the sun is shining), a convulsive disease (possibly epilepsy), and headache. 
Commonly, stomach ailments are thought to be caused by eating or stealing crops 
protected by an incantation (“wate — known in Ambonese Malay as matakau). 
Healers use incantations to treat wounds caused by a machete if divination re- 
veals that the weapon was strengthened by a charm. In some cases the physical 
manifestation of the illness caused by sorcery is non-specific, but is amenable to 
treatment by incantations if the healer can divine the source. Midwives may use 
incantations during a prolonged and difficult labor if the childbirth problems are 
considered to derive from sorcery. 


Divination —The first stage in healing an illness presumed to have been caused by 
sorcery is determining the source of the ailment, a task which is undertaken by 
shinies and ma’selu (cf. Ellen 1993b and Bolton 1994 for a discussion of divina- 
tion in healing among the Nuaulu of south Seram). One man asserted: 


“Previously, we used sorcery [to cause illness]. We would seek the source 
[of an illness] by using a length of wood. Probably the person was ill be- 
cause of an evil spirit or because s/he sinned or whatever. Before we could 
heal the person, we would seek the source of the illness. I’d place a piece of 
wood in my hand. If the wood broke that would mean there was a problem 
and later the patient would tell the healer what s /he’d done to lead to the 
use of sorcery. Then the healer would be able to heal.” 


pies PROCESS of divination is known in Alune as ‘nau. A ma’aleru uses various 
vais to assist this process. For example, as described above, a length of midrib 
— the Sago palm which is used to build walls (punale), a length of stem from 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 49 


healers may also go into a trance (‘basa) and call upon a spirit to reveal the source 
of the illness. One man explained that his uncle had used a large white stone to 
call his personal spirit to assist in divination. He stated: 


“In earlier times they worshipped, they didn’t yet know about the Lord. 
They didn’t know ..., the sun and the moon spirits they certainly knew, but 
about the Lord they didn’t know, they worshipped [spirits]. Tall trees, large 
rocks, they had to worship [them]. Tradition meant that they worshipped 
that, only that. Then they worshipped their spirits or devils, they had to 
work that way because they trusted in rocks. Certainly their spirit came, 
and shortly it would reveal [the source of the problem], say this and this, 
like that.” 


Ingredients used as aids in the application of curative incantations.—Once the source of 
the problem and the nature of the ailment has been revealed the process of healing 
can commence. The specific pattern of application of curative incantations varies 
according to the ailment to be treated. The cure is very rarely effected by mere 
recitation of an incantation. In virtually all cases plant matter, plant by-products, 
and non-plant matter (such as water) are used as an aid to accompany the recita- 
tion of curative incantations. 

Various parts of a plant may be used to aid the application of curative incanta- 
tions, including the leaf, root, fruit, shell, rhizome, and sepals. The list of plants in 
Table 3 indicates the key role of ginger (Zingiber officinale) and the ingredients of a 
betel quid in the application of curative incantations. Where se’u putile or se’u 
ta’unui (Z. officinale, Z. zerumbet) are not available, they can be substituted with 
the plants ‘wata muri (Costus speciosus), ‘wata muri ‘berele (Tapeinochilus ananassae), 
or toune (Alpinia sp.) (all members of the Zingiberaceae). The plant by-products 
and non-plant matter in Table 4 may also be used in conjunction with curative 
incantations: 


Application of curative incantations.—Healers apply an incantation by es “f 
over the patient. The whispering of the words protects ownership of the incanta- 
tion by ensuring that it cannot be overheard and thus learned and later utilized by 
others present. Healers assert that an incantation is not efficacious if heard. The 
following sections exemplify some of the applications of incantations nay axcton 
of some plant, animal, or mineral matter in conjunction with ney pall sail 
tions. Incantations are often addressed to the spirit who is considered to a 
brought the ailment. ine, fruit of 

Use of betel quid. The components of a betel quid (leaf of a — ye ” 
the areca palm, and mineral lime) can be used to treat a headache. The ea = 
chews a betel quid and gives it to the patient to chew. The skin of a young fruit o 
the areca palm is brushed across the head of the patient and the healer eas 
the head of the patient four times, pressing across the forehead ee, 
Scalp to forehead. The healer recites the following incantation: 

ntua ‘ete ntua ‘ete, Old man biter, old man biter, 

esi-’ete leu ulu buai its bite returns to his head, 

au ‘ete leu ulu buai my bite returns to his head. 


50 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


mata bina ‘ete, Old woman biter, 

esi-’ete leu ulu buai its bite returns to her head, 
au ‘ete leu ulu buai my bite returns to his head. 
esi-’ete “uru mise Its bite is strong and powerful 
satu lupa mo batu napane like the sandstone and the 
batu ‘wale solid slippery stones. 


Use of mineral lime. Lime can be used in conjunction with curative incanta- 
tions to treat several ailments. One incantation is used by a healer to staunch heavy 
bleeding from a wound: the first line is repeated four times. As the incantation is 
recited mineral lime is rubbed around the wound: 


e-hmolile leta, lala’we leta As the flow of water in the gutter 
ceases, so the bleeding ceases. 

ile lala’we leta talu, soli’ele The blood completely ceases flowing 

noma and remains that way. 

Use of chilli pepper (Capsicum frut ). Inst hing bleeding from a wound, 


one practitioner wraps ginger and eight chilli peppers in a leaf, heats the bundle 


on the fire and applies it as a poultice on the wound while reciting the following 
incantation: 


‘wamlua peilu As the ant [...]* 
lala’we seli la’wai so blood is renewed in the wound. 

lala’we sa seli The blood rises and is renewed, 

la’wai ‘loto’ele lupa lane salati_ _ the wound closes up as the rack 
above the hearth (is enclosed by soot). 

mutu ‘au sela ‘wate The wound is healthy [...]. 

‘loto’ele lupa lane salati [It] closes up as the rack above the 
hearth (is enclosed by soot). 


mutu ‘au soli’e The wound remains healthy. 


Use of heat. In order to treat ailments which exhibit symptoms of heat such as 
fever or burns, heat is an ingredient in the cure. A smouldering log is placed near 
the patient while the incantation is recited four times. The fire is then extinguished 
with cold water, and the log is thrown into a nearby river or stream: 

auwe tetu ‘wele 

e-muti soli’ele, mata soli’ele 

au muti musute 

mata soli’ele muti soli’ele 

au dulu soli’ele 

soli’ele bei X 


The fire falls on the water, 

it remains cold, remains dead. 

The fire is cooled of its heat, 

it remains dead, remains cold. 

The fire continues to diminish. 

It stays away from [name of patient]. 

nanai muti sa’a ‘wele mutine His/her body is cool like cold water. 

di Pesta water. The following curative incantation is used to treat breathing 

ifficulties, manifested either by illnesses such as asthma or when someone 1® 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 51 


thought to be dying. The healer blows the incantation over a container of water, 
then drinks a little before brushing the remainder over the patient’s body: 


manu nusa inai The birds of the mother island (Seram) 

e-mei betu’we ile lalei are coming to awaken his/her soul. 

betu banu lupa manu nusa inai Arising and beginning to lean like 
the birds of the mother island. 

na’wai i-leu soli’e His/her breath keeps returning. 

betu banu lupa manu nusa inai Arising and beginning to lean like 
the birds of the mother island. 

na’wai i-leu soli’e His/her breath keeps returning, 

betu banu soli’e [s/he] continues to arise and lean. 


Use of the sonatene plant, Codiaeum variegatum. This plant is used in conjunc- 
tion with a curative incantation to treat fever. Two pieces are cut from the tip of the 
plant, brushed on the patient from the head down to the legs, then the plant is 
thrown far away in a westerly direction (i.e. the direction of the sunset): 


ntua ‘era’eni Old man illness, 
e-tati musute bei mlete mosole he lowers the heat from high up in 
the forest. 
e-tati musute bei X meije He lowers the heat from [name of 
patient]. 
e-dulu soli’e It keeps descending. 
e-leta soli’e It is completely healed. 


Healing by exorcism (hela’e). In cases of persistent illnesses in young chil- 
dren, the biane may heal by performing an exorcism (cf. Prentice 1981 concerning 
exorcism among the Timugon Murut of Sabah). As an incantation 1s recited, the 
spirit causing the illness is “pulled” from the child’s body and drawn into the 
healer’s body through a deep body massage. The movement of the malevolent 
spirit into the healer’s body is visible through her shivering and trance-like state. 
The accompanying chill in the biane’s body is said to result from her body heat 
transferring to and healing the child. The biane, an adult with stronger powers 
than the malevolent spirit, can then expel the illness from her own body. 


PROCESSES OF CHANGE: FACTORS AFFECTING HEALING PRACTICES 


Anumber of factors are implicated in the process of changing health care prac- 
tices among the Alune. Perhaps the greatest effec wrought by conversion 
to Christianity, which began in western Seram early in the twentieth century, “a 
curring first in the more accessible coastal regions (for example, in 1902 > ne 
transplanted coastal village of Murnaten) and later in the inland villages (1 a 
Lohiatala’s former village site, 1935 in Lohiasapalewa). Christianity was ie 

to Lohiatala by a man named Marten Supulatu, who was related to peop = 
Lohiatala (including the traditional midwife). He had spent time in the coasta 


52 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


villages of Hatusua and Waesamu and was converted to Christianity there before 
going as a missionary to Lohiatala°. 

The Alune language appears to have been feared by missionaries, and speak- 
ing Alune trongly di J as it was seen as a vehicle for the promulgation 
of pre-Christian beliefs. On occasion, use of Alune resulted in physical punish- 
ment. Conversations recorded with villagers in Lohiasapalewa and Lohiatala 
provide plentiful evidence that pre-Christian sociocultural beliefs and practices 
were also actively suppressed by the church. Such knowledge has become deval- 
ued over time by villagers, and they have ceased t itting indig practices 
to later generations (cf. Florey n.d.). Although some young people express an in- 
terest in learning pre-Christian skills, older people are refusing to teach them in 
order that such knowledge is forgotten. One man asserted: 


“Yes, all of it will be lost. Because now we trust in the Lord Jesus ... but if we 
[live as we did formerly] we would no longer know Jesus.” 


With conversion to Christianity, Alune healers participated in religious cer- 
emonies held to symbolize the abandonment of their knowledge. In 1979 the 
minister in Lohiatala held a village-wide ceremony at the time of the laying of the 
foundation of the new church. Each family was required to contribute a coin over 
which they prayed in their home with the minister and the church committee. The 
families took an oath that they would no longer use incantations, and understood 
that God would punish them with death within three days if the oath were bro- 
ken. All families then gathered in the old church building while the coins were 
secretly buried by the minister and his committee beneath the foundations of the 
new (permanent) church. 

However not all members of the community were prepared to abandon their 
knowledge. Several elderly men resisted, but later events forced their compliance. 
One such event concerned a man whose wife was gravely ill. He was told to destroy 
his knowledge of incantations or she would die. He agreed to the process, and went 
to the church at midnight to pray with the minister. The minister had stated that a 
gun would be fired following the prayer as a sign that the man had abandoned his 
non-Christian practices. A bullet was loaded but the gun would not fire. The prayers 
were then repeated, but again the gun would not fire. The minister accused the man 
of concealing knowledge. His son told the story as follows: 


“So the minister prayed. After praying he put ina bullet and fired. It didn’t 
make a sound. They prayed again. He [i.e. the minister] said, ‘Father, it’s 
not finished.’ Father said, ‘It is.’ However, there was more. Father finished 
[disposing of his knowledge] again. He fired a second time (father himself 
fired the gun), but the gun again didn’t make a sound. They said, ‘Hey, 
mother is ill, she’s at home dying.’ If father didn’t dispose of all his knowl- 
edge mother would die. Finally father disposed of it all. Finally after the 
third time it was disposed of. The minister prayed again and the gun fired: 
it was over. Therefore it was okay. It was immediately forgotten, even if he 
does it again, even if father still remembers he can’t use his knowledge 
again 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 53 


In a similar event another man later disposed of his knowledge by burning 
the red cloth worn during rituals which ‘contained’ the knowledge. This event 
took place at the church with a visiting minister from the neighboring island of : 
Nusa Laut. The cloth took three attempts before it would burn. 

The Alune are clearly aware that this knowledge remains accessible to former 
practitioners. One consultant acknowledged, for example, that there are people in 
Lohiatala who retain traditional knowledge but choose not to use it any more: 


“That's true, there are still those who know but are no longer allowed [to 
use their knowledge].” 


Traditional midwifery healing knowledge has also been suppressed by the 
church as a facet of pre-Christian practices. However, this knowledge was not 
disposed of in the above-mentioned ceremony in Lohiatala. Instead, the minister 
made a pact with the oldest midwife that Alune midwifery practices would cease 
in that village upon her death. 

The villagers of Lohiasapalewa underwent similar ceremonies to dispose of 
their traditional healing skills, including midwifery practices. Despite these overt 
displays of abandoning non-Christian beliefs, it is apparent that some incanta- 
tions continue to play an i t role i temporary life in some Alune villages. 
A Lohiatala man explained the need to retain the knowledge and use of incanta- 
tions, both for healing and for self defence. He cited the case of one young man 
who is in the army and has been taught incantations by his father both to protect 
and to heal himself. However, he noted: 


“That doesn’t mean you can disregard the Lord. The Lord comes first, then 
this [knowledge of incantations], comes later.” 


Language shift from Alune to Ambonese Malay has also contributed to the 
demise of healing incantations in Alune. Linguistic skill is a key element in the 
performance of curative incantations. Efficacy depends, at least in part, on accu- 
rate recitation. Valeri (1985:3) similarly discusses the “paramount importance” to 
the Huaulu of Seram of exact recital of magical charms. For older members of the 
Lohiatala community where language shift to Ambonese Malay is progressing 
rapidly, fluency in Alune is an essential component of healing practices. They as- 
sert, therefore, that younger people are unable to learn pre-Christian healing skills 
because they are not Alune speakers. Middle-aged members of the Lohiatala com- 
munity, who speak a non-standard variety of Alune (cf. Florey 1997), discussed 
the dangers involved in reciting incantations imperfectly. One man in this age 
group had inherited healing skills from his father. Although an Alune speaker, he 
was not prepared to become a practitioner because of his awareness of non-stan- 
dard features in his use of this language. ie 

Both language shift and the suppression of pre-Christian practices are clearly 
implicated in the loss of traditional healing methods, including the use of herbal 
medicines and the recitiation of incantations. However, the process of loss has 

compounded by lif tyle chang hich! duced opport young 
people to be exposed to the skills possessed by their parents and ancestors. pee 
constraints imposed by contemporary village life, including 


54 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


and state projects undertaken in the village, are greatly reducing time available 
for horticultural practices in both Lohiasapalewa and Lohiatala. Villagers in both 
sites now rely to a much lesser extent on the harvesting of forest resources and to 
a much greater extent on the planting of a limited range of cultivated plants (Wolff 
and Florey n.d.). Children are therefore spending less time in the forest with their 
parents and are not learning about plant and animal resources or the wide range 
of traditional uses of plant species indigenous to this environment. This situation 
is exacerbated by the time which younger Alune villagers spend away from the 
village for purp of education and employment. In Lohiatala, the move to their 
lowland village site has further reduced access to traditional plant resources be- 
cause of the different ecology of the new site. A considerable number of the forest 
resources which were exploited in the mountain village are not found in the coastal 
zone and the majority of villagers of all ages in Lohiatala have a very limited knowl- 
edge of the ecology of interior Seram which characterises the traditional Alune 
world of their ancestors. 


CONTEMPORARY HEALING PRACTICES 


In both Lohiatala and Lohiasapalewa today, illness and injury are treated first 
by prayer, usually intoned in the home alongside the patient and his or her family 
by a church elder, or, in more serious cases, by the minister with all deacons and 
deaconesses. Where available and affordable, Western medicines may form a part 
of the healing treatment. When ailments remain resistant to prayer and Western 
medicine, some Alune in both sites will call upon elderly villagers to prepare an 
appropriate herbal medicine. If these strategies all fail, villagers may aska ma’aleru 
to divine the source of the illness and to heal with incantations. Due to the sup- 
Pression of these practices by the church, the work of ma’aleru and ma’selu is 
carefully concealed from the non-Alune ministers appointed to Alune villages and 
from Alune villagers whose beliefs in Christian precepts are more complete. 

A comparison of contemporary healing practices in the two sites reveals some 
interesting differences. People in Lohiatala who were born after 1950 were raised 
either in the non-Alune village of Hatusua or in the relocated coastal village site of 
Lohiatala. Their knowledge of pre-Christian practices has been affected by three 
processes: interrupted transmission brought about through the suppression of such 
knowledge following conversion to Christianity, lack of knowledge of traditional 
plant resources, and language shift to Ambonese Malay. In Lohiasapalewa, trans- 
mission of knowledge to younger people has been affected by the first two processes 
but to a much lesser degree by language shift because the Alune language is $ i 
spoken by all generations. 

___InLohiasapalewa, several consultants born between 1920 and 1940 were will- 
ing to discuss pre-Christian Alune healing practices and, in the case of one elderly 
man and one woman, to recite curative incantations. One of the villagers who 
recited incantations, and the few villagers willing to discuss the use of incanta- 
tions, requested secrecy during these discussions. Only the elderly man who had 
spurned the public process of disposing of pre-Christian knowledge appeared 
unperturbed by the possibility that others may know he was revealing this infor- 
mation. His lack of concern was not shared by other members of the household in 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 55 


which recording took place. Although they had consented to and arranged the 
meeting, they carefully concealed its purpose. 

No villager born in Lohiasapalewa after 1940 was willing to discuss pre-Chris- 
tian practices of any kind, including healing practices. Questions seeking such 
information were invariably met witha commentary on the use of Christian prac- 
tices in place of all practices during the “period of darkness” which preceded 
conversion. The process of conversion to Christianity began in 1935 in 
Lohiasapalewa: villagers who were adults at that time appear to have been the 
last in this site to have transmitted knowled ge of curative incantations to younger 
villagers. Despite having the linguistic skills necessary for the recitation of incan- 
tations, it appears that the success of conversion to Christianity in Lohiasapalewa 
has been such that younger people have no knowledge of curative incantations. 

In Lohiatala, consultants who were willing to discuss pre-Christian Alune heal- 
ing practices and recite incantations were born between 1910 and 1930. As noted 
earlier, th tations of incantations followed a fieldwork period of approximately 
five months during which personal knowledge of healing practices was denied by 
all villagers. Once closer relationships had been established with consultants in this 
generation, they appeared proud to display their knowledge and, during our dis- 
cussions, did not exhibit the same caution noted in Lohiasapalewa. 

Villagers born in Lohiatala between 1930 and 1950 were, like their counter- 
parts in Lohiasapalewa, unwilling to recite incantations. However, unlike the 
Lohiasapalewa middle-aged group, Lohiatala villagers were willing to discuss pre- 
Christian practices. These di ions were placed within two contexts. One group 
of villagers denied any personal knowledge of Alune healing practices but cited 
specific people within the village who | to be ma’aleru, biane, or ma’selu 
and usually gave descriptions of the ways in which healers had treated various 
ailments. A second group couched their discussion in the framework of present- 
day Christian practices or the use of Western medicine. It is interesting to note that 
conversion to Christianity began in 1925 in Lohiatala. Transmission of Alune heal- 
ing practices appears to have been interrupted by that process, and, as in 
Lohiasapalewa, villagers who were adults at the time of conversion seem to be the 
last to have transmitted knowledge of curative incantations. 

Lohiatala villagers born after 1950 in their refugee site of Hatusua or in the 
relocated village of Lohiatala were, like those in their grandparents’ generation, 
willing to recite incantations and to discuss patterns of use. However the structure 
and function of incantations used by this age group differs dramatically to those 
used by their grandparents. Incantations tend to be destructive rather than cura- 
tive, they are usually recited in Malay or other non-Alune languages, and the 
incantations are often written rather than memorised. Further, recitation of incan- 
tations by this generation is usually not accompanied by the use of aids made 
from plant or animal matter. In clear contrast to the healing practices of older Alune 
people, it is the words tl ] s- 3 tati owned by younger people which 
hold the power and carry the ability to heal. 

Parental knowledge is not the source for incantations recited by young Alune 
people in Lohiatala. The language of the incantations and the functions for which 
they are used strongly suggest the influence of the world beyond the immediate 


56 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


Alune environment. Unlike their parents and grandparents, who were raised in 
the relative isolation and protection of the mountain village, young people in 
Lohiatala are confronted by the apparent hostility of a non-Alune world. They 
have reacted to the environment in which they now live by learning and utilizing 
pan-Moluccan knowledge of incantations. 


CONCLUDING REMARKS 


An analysis of health care practices in the Alune villages of Lohiasapalewa 
and Lohiatala reveals that, in the pre-Christian era, healers (ma’aleru, biane, and 
ma’selu) began the process of treating ailments and midwifery concerns with herbal 
medicines made from a wide range of matter, including plants, plant by-products, 
animal by-products, and minerals. If the patient failed to respond to herbal medi- 
cines, the illness was considered to have arisen from ancestral reprisal for the 
misdeeds of the patient or to have derived from the destructive magic of sorcerers. 
In such cases treatment first required the divination of the source of the problem 
followed by the recitation of curative incantations in conjunction with aids made 
of plant, animal, or mineral matter. 

Conversion to Christianity in both sites led to the suppression of the Alune 
language and pre-Christian health care practices, and abruptly interrupted trans- 
mission of such knowledge. Herbal medicines are now rarely used and the 
knowledge of ingredients and methods of preparation is in decline. Villagers rely 
largely on the healing power of prayer and, where available, Western medicines. 
While older people in Lohiatala and Lohiasapalewa remember and may covertly 
utilize curative incantations, villagers born following religious change have had 
restricted access to ancestral practices. In Lohiasapalewa, knowledge and use of 
curative incantations appears to have almost completely ceased. In Lohiatala, in 
the absence of transmission of Alune practices and in response to the contempo- 
rary environment, younger people have transformed the form and function of 
incantations by seeking knowledge from the wider Moluccan community. 


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 


This paper draws on research undertaken in the Alune villages of Lohiatala and 
Lohiasapalewa in five field seasons between 1988 and 1998. Research has been supported by 
the Social Science Research Council and the American Council of Learned Societies Joint 

ommittee on Southeast Asia (with funding provided by the Ford Foundation), the Australian 
Research Council, and the Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research. In 
Lohiatala, knowledge of healing practices was studied primarily with Harun Kwalomine, 
Mateus Nikolebu, and David Nikolebu. Since 1992, research has been based largely in 
Lohiasapalewa. Principal Alune consultants on this topic in that location have been Lukas 
Soriale, Adolpentji Manakane Kwalomine, Neltji Kwalomine Souhaly, Alfonsina Kwalomine 
Makulessy, Halena Soriale Tibalimeten, Esau Akollo, Penina Akollo Kwalomine, Wemp! 
Manakane, and Yusup Lumaupuy. Dr. Vicki Bennett provided medical advice. This paper 
was first presented at the Fourth International Maluku Research Conference, Pattimura 
pee, Ambon (9-13 July 1996). The authors wish to thank participants at the conference 
or their insichtful res 4 Seren : ae 


aamments 


i 
Pane leg a +} 
2iX/Jitt 4 


le % igs ii? | aia 
of three reviewers, whom the authors thank for their valuable suggestions. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 4 


NOTES 
1. A glossary of Alune terms and English translations is provided in Appendix 3. 


2.A description of Alune ethnobiology (Florey, Healey, and Wolff, with Manakane) is in 
preparation. 


3. This paper focuses on incantations used in what Taylor (1988:426) terms “curative medi- 
cine”. A more complete analysis of Alune incantations, which are very extensive in num- 
ber and function, is given in Florey (1998). 


4. Parentheses indicate verbs for which a translation is not known either to the linguist or 
to contemporary Alune speakers. The difficulty of interpreting some of the lexemes used 
in incantations is also addressed by Taylor (1988) and Fox (1975). 


ae change and the impact of Calvinism in Seram is also discussed in Grzimek (1991, 


LITERATURE CITED 


—___— 1991. Shifting patterns of language 
F allegiance: A generational gee abe 
culture. . Paper presented at the Third from eastern Indonesia. Pp. 39-47 in 
International Maluku _ Research Papers in Austronesian Linguistics, 
Conference, ea: University, No.1, H. Steinhauer (editor). Pacific 
Ambon, Indon ee Canberra. 
BOULAN-SMIT, M. “CHRISTINE. 1992. ie. 1993. The reinterpretation of 
“Formerly we blew; now we pray” — 
some aspects of the medical beliefs and langu 
practices among the Alune of West Linguistics 32(2): 295-309. 
ram. Paper presented at the Second kewed performance and 
International Maluku Research structural variation in the process of 
Conference, University of Hawai'i, 


BOLTON, ROSEMARY | A. 1994. Ancestral 


age obsolescence. Oceanic 


Proceed the Seventh 
ELLEN, ROY. 1993a. Nuaulu Ethnozoology: International Conference on 
A Systematic Inventory. Centre for Austronesian Linguistics, C. Ode and W. 


Anger, anxiety, and sorcery: 
n analysis of some Nuaulu case 
material from Seram, Eastern Indonesia. 
Pp. 81-97 in Understanding snag se 
and Sorcery in Southeast 
Watson and R.F. Ellen dtd: 
University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu. 


RRINGTON, ROSS. 1986. The ma magic of the 


Cotabato Manobos. Studies in 
Philippine Linguistics 7(1): 153-164. 


FLOREY, MARGARET J. 1990. Language 


anoa. UMI sertation Services: 
Arbor, Michieas 


Stokhof age 6 — Rodopi B.V., 

Amsterdam/A 

rere incantations: 

Continuity or discontinuity in verbal 
art? Journal of Sociolinguistics 2(2): 205- 
Zak. 


.d. Threats to indigenous 


knowledge: A case study from eastern 


Indonesia. In Language, Knowledge 
and the’ Environment: The 
Interdependence of Cultural and 
Biological Diversity, Luisa Maffi 
(editor). Oxford University Press, 
Oxford. 

, CHRISTOPHER J. HEALEY, and 
XENIA Y. WOLFF, with WEMPI 
MANAKANE. N.d.. From the edge of 
the forest: Alune ethnobiology in a 

orld. 


changing wo: 


58 FLOREY and WOLFF 


FOX, JAMES J. 1975. On binary categories 
and primary symbols: Some Rotinese 
perspectives. Pp. 200-279 in Bahasa, 
sastra dan sejarah: Kumpulan karangan 
mengenai masyarakat Pulau Roti, J. J. 
Fox (editor). ILDEP, Jakarta. 

GLICK, LEONARD R. 1967. Medicine as an 
ethnographic category: The Gimi of the 

New Guinea Highlands. Ethnology 6(1): 

1-56 


31-56. 

GRZIMEK, BENNO R. O. 1991. Social 
change on Seram: A study of ideologies 
of development in eastern Indonesia. 
Ph.D. thesis, University of London. 

1996. Sacrificing to authority: 
From ancestors to the Protestant Tuhan 
Allah. In For the Sake of our Future: 
Sacrificing in Eastern Indonesia, S. 
Howell (editor). Research School 
CNWS, Leiden, The Netherlands. 

MAKERAWE, MATHEUS and MAKS 
NIKOLEBU. 1988. Suilima: Sejarah 
singkat asal mula lahirnya desa 
Lohiatala. Unpublished manuscript 
reproduced in Florey 1990. 

OOY, F. VAN. 1994. Ritual language of 

awu Dimu, eastern Indonesia. Paper 
presented at the 7th International 
Conference on Austronesian 
Linguistics, Leiden, The Netherlands. 

PRENTICE, D.J. 1981. The minstrel- 
priestesses: A Timugon Murut exorcism 
ceremony and its liturgy. Pp. 121-44 in 
Papers on Indonesian Languages and 
Literature, Nigel Phillips and Khaidir 
Anwar (editors). School of Oriental and 
African Studies, University of London. 


Vol. 18, No. 1 
TAYLOR, PAUL. 1988. From mantra to 


27(5): 425-436. 

VALERI, VALERIO. 1985. “Our ancestors 
talked little”: Forms of knowledge and 
forms of “power” among the Huaulu of 
Seram (Indonesia). Paper presented at 
the panel “Who’s in the know: 
Epistemological foundations of control 
and secrecy” — American 
Anthropological Association Annual 
Meeting, Washington D.C 


MARGARET J. N.d. Foraging, 
agricultural, and culinary practices 
among the Alune of west Seram, with 
implications for the 
significance of cultivated plants as 
foodstuffs. In Old World Places, New 


and Local Government in 
Eastern Indonesia, Franz von Benda- 
Beckmann and Sandra Pannell (editors). 
Australian National University: Centre 
for Resource and Environmental 
Studies, Canberra. 


APPENDIX 1: PLANTS USED IN TREATMENT OF ILLNESSES 


Bleeding (nasu “to bleed from the nose”). 
‘amu lebu leaf of betel vine (Piper sp., Piperaceae). Medicinal use: the leaf is chewed, mixed 
with mineral lime, and placed on a wound to staunch bleeding. This leaf is considered 
more efficacious than certain grasses in staunching bleeding. 
‘wah’nalu inai buffalo grass (Digitaria sp., Poaceae). Medicinal use: the grass is chewed, 
mixed with mineral lime, and placed on a wound to staunch bleeding. : 
osane (Dicranopteris sp., Gleicheniaceae). Medicinal use: the leaf is chewed, mixed with 
mineral lime, and placed on a wound to staunch bleeding. : 
palate kind of tall grass (Poaceae). Medicinal use: the grass is chewed, mixed with mineral 
lime, and placed on a wound to staunch bleeding. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 59 


palise common snakeweed (Stachytarpheta jamaicensis = S. dichotoma Vahl, Verbenaceae). 
Medicinal use: to treat bleeding wounds, the bitter-tasting leaves are chewed, placed 
on a wound, and held in place until bleeding ceases. The leaf poultice causes intense 
stinging. Other leaf poultices are considered more effective cures for bleeding. 

si’‘wa mau kind of si’wa’we fern (Selaginella sp., Selaginellaceae). Medicinal use: can be 
used to staunch bleeding. The leaves are chewed and placed on a bleeding wound, 
which causes intense stinging but quickly staunches the bleeding. 

Blood pressure. 


eamu lah + t (Cnr, } 1). Medici ] 
d} 


treatment of high blood pressure. 
Burns (popa’e). 
lutune Malay apple (Syzygium malaccense (L.) Merr. & Perry, Myrtaceae). Medicinal use: in 
treatment of burns, the young leaves are chewed and then spat on the burn. The poul- 
tice has a gluey quality and sticks until dry. 
me’u abile kind of thorny creeper. Medicinal use: in treatment of burns, the bitter-tasting 
leaves are chewed and then spat on the burn. The poultice has a gluey quality and 
sticks until dry. 
Colds & influenza (nobale). 
labale Spanish thyme (Coleus (= Plectranthus) amboinicus (Lour.) Sprengel, Lamiaceae). 
edicinal use: in treatment of influenza or colds, leaves of planted variety are cleaned 
and mixed with water, then crushed in the hand before being rubbed on head of pa- 
ient. 
buna ‘o’laene hibiscus (Hibiscus rosa-sinensis L., Malvaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of 
influenza or colds, the leaves are rubbed in water then squeezed in the hands until 
frothy. They are then rubbed on the crown of the head until the head feels warm. 
meu ‘waetute kind of vine (Apocynaceae). Medicinal use: colds or influenza treated by 
soaking the leaves in warm water and then rubbing the head of a sick child to ease his 
or her breathing. 
Cough (‘buse) & sore throat. 
ai tosile kind of tree (Boehmeria sp., Urticaceae ?): very small fruit, inedible. Medicinal use: 
the root is scraped clean, then grated and squeezed through a cloth. The fluid is mixed 
in a glass with warm water, then drunk to treat I hitis or a dry cough. It is asserted 
that when the child defecates one can see in the feces the remains thing which 
was caught in the throat and is causing the cough. sa : 
‘mulene kind of plant (Wollastonia (=Wedelia) biflora (L.) DC., Asteraceae). Medicinal use: in 
treatment of coughs, the leaves are boiled in two glasses of water until the water re- 
duces to one glass. The water is then drunk by the patient. Alternatively, the plant can 
be eaten mixed with gnetum (Gnetum gnemon L., Gnetaceae) leaves. ees 
musi, lemone orange, lemon (Citrus spp., Rutaceae). Medicinal uses: 1) Citrus juice is mixed 
with sugar and salt and drunk early in the morning to treat cough. 2) To treat sore 
throat, mineral lime is rubbed on cut half of fruit which is then placed in the ashes 
until juice boils and then rubbed on chest and throat. 
ma’inu tuae anai (e)si=’wele honey. Medicinal use: mixed with egg and palm wine and 
drunk as a medicine to treat cough and sore chest. 
Diarrhea (lale ‘lusute). 
ete buai kind of fibrous plant, caesar weed (Urena lobata L., Malvaceae). Medicinal use: in 
treatment of diarrhea, the fruit is cleaned then boiled in two glasses of water until it 
reduces to one glass. It is then drunk by the patient. 


60 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


ni’wel (e)si=lamuti root of coconut palm (Cocos nucifera L., Arecaceae). Medicinal use: to 
treat diarrhea the young root of the red variety of coconut palm is cut, boiled with two 
glasses of water until ca. one glass has evaporated, then root is discarded and cooled 
water is drunk. Children are treated with one spoonful of the medicine. A further dose 
can be given if required. 

papai papaya tree (Carica papaya L. Caricaceae). Medicinal use: dry seeds are chewed then 
spat out as a treatment for diarrhea. 

sala’ opoi young seed of the salak (Salacca edulis Mal. [= S. zalacca [Gaertner] Voss], 
Arecaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of diarrhea, the young white seed is peeled, 
scraped, and the fluid is then squeezed out through a cloth. The fluid is then drunk by 
the patient, who is also given a lot of water to drink. 

Ear infection (sonale). 

‘amu la‘a leaf of betel vine (Piper betle L., Piperaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of infec- 
tive discharge from ear, the leaf is chewed and the saliva mixed with fluid extracted 
from the leaf is dripped into the ear together with one or two drops of tea tree oil 
(derived from Melaleuca quinquenervia, Myrtaceae). The ear is plugged with a piece of 
clean cloth. 

‘amu mala’a leaf of betel vine (Piper betle L., Piperaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of 
infective discharge from ear, the leaves are pounded and the fluid is squeezed out and 
mixed with mineral lime then inserted into the ear. 

Eye infection (mata ‘erale). 

bawane members of the onion family (Allium sp., Alliaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of 

sore eyes, a cut piece of onion is rubbed underneath the eye to cause the eye to water. 


Fever (lalelune) & malaria. 

ai lite kind of tree. Medicinal use: the bitter-tasting sap is boiled and drunk to lower fever 
or treat malaria. 

jarak loini (Euphorbiaceae). A recently introduced plant for which there is no Alune term 
(and which therefore is referred to by a combination of the Malay term and the Alune 
word for leaf). Medicinal use: in treatment of fever, the leaf is heated over coals then 
pounded to soften, placed on torso and covered with a cloth. 

lasete langsat (Lansium domesticum Jack, Meliaceae) Medicinal use: a piece of bark is peeled 
from the tree, cleaned, and boiled. Approximately half a glass of the bitter-tasting 
water is drunk as often as required to treat malaria. Symptoms are said to improve In 
two to three days. 

me’u “wamate kind of ground vine (Commelinaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of fever, 
the plant is stripped of its root and dried leaves, then cleaned and boiled in two glasses 
of water. It is reduced to one glass then drunk by the patient. 

Goiter (mo’a posile). 
tapana parasitic creeper (Loranthaceae). Medicinal use: this plant is said to cure goiter. 


mes Headache (ulu ‘erale). 

wetye culilaban (Cinnamomum culitlawan (L.) Kosterm., Lauraceae). Medicinal use: the bark 
of the tree is peeled, then chewed to soften and applied to the forehead or temples to 
treat headache. The bark sticks firmly and can only be removed once dry. 

usue kind of plant (Laportea sp., Urticaceae). Stem and underside of leaf cause extreme 
itching, burning sensation, and blistering of skin. Medicinal use: wiped across fore 
head to treat headache. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 61 


Head lice (utu), dandruff (sobule) 
alale kind of plant (Elatostema sp., Urticaceae). Grows to about 1 m with small fruit and 
thin stem. Medicinal uses: 1) Stem is pounded with a rock and rubbed on wet hair. It 
foams like a shampoo and is used to treat dandruff or head lice. 2) Stem is cut and 
pounded to extract the sap which is used as conditioner to make curly hair manage- 
able and easier to comb. 
hlia kind of plant. Medicinal use: leaves are pounded and wrapped on hair to treat head lice. 
Infected wound (hauni). 
pia sago (Metroxylon sagu Rottb., Arecaceae). Medicinal use: cold sago gelatin is applied to 
infected wounds in order to draw out pus. The wound is cleaned, then sago gelatin is 
applied and left on overnight. If necessary a second application is used. 
i buai (e)si=matai fused sepal fruit of the betel nut palm (A techu L., Arecaceae)). 
Medicinal use: this part of the fruit is baked until burnt, then ash is squeezed over 
navel of newborn baby once umbilical cord is cut and tied. The medicine is applied 
daily until the navel is dry to prevent infection. 


Intestinal parasites (tilatine) 
samu labu trumpet (Cordia subcordata Lam., Ehreti [ g }) 
roots are dried on smoking rack, one quarter glass of scraping is mixed with warm 

es 


Dp 4 yg fee as at 1 


water, then drunk for treatment of intestinal parasites. 
undice 

tema ‘watnabane kind of banana (Musa fehi, Musaceae). Medicinal use: people are fed this 
fruit as a treatment for jaundice. 

Muscular pain, bruising, sprains, broken bones. 

unine tumeric (Curcuma domestica [= C. longa L.], Zingiberaceae). Medicinal use: to replen- 
ish the strength of a man or woman who has been doing hard physical labor, the root 
is grated, boiled with coconut milk, palm sugar, ground pepper, coriander, cumin, 
and tamarind, then drunk on several consecutive mornings. 

‘wapa kind of plant (Crinum sp., Amaryllidaceae). Medicinal use: in treatment of muscle 
pain or sprains, a plaster or compress is made from the stem of the plant. The outer 
stem is peeled and a thin strip of the inner pith (which has layered skin like an onion) 
is heated to soften and applied to the sore part of the body. It is left in place for one or 


o days. 
‘welamau eKecae (Cymbopogon citratus (DC.) Stapf, Poaceae). Medicinal use: in treat- 
t of sprai ked | , the base of the stem is pounded, mixed with coconut, 
wrapped in a leaf and heated g coals on the hearth until the fluid boils. Once the 
mixture has cooled it is put on the injured limb and wrapped in cloth. This is repeated 
until the injury has healed. . 
‘welamau musi citronella grass (Cymbopogon nardus (L.) Rendle, Poaceae). Medicinal use: 
as a massage oil, which is extracted from the pounded stem an leaves. 
ma’otu luma pagoda flower (Clerodendrum sp., Verbenaceae). Medicinal use: to treat — 
or bodily aches following falls or to speed the healing of broken bones, the midrib 2 
the leaf is heated to soften, pounded until fine and easy to compress, rubbed wi 
coconut oil, then the entire leaf is applied as compress and covered with a cloth. The 
compress is applied at night and removed in the morning. This forms a very strong- 
smelling ointment. Only the variety with the reddish midrib is used medicinally. 
maralane (e)si=tu’une deer fetus. Medicinal use: to strengthen the body, the fetus is added 
to distilled palm wine. To prepare, the fetus is washed twice in distilled wine, which 
later discarded. Prepared fetus is added to container of palm wine which is drun 
sparingly as needed. 


62 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


maralane (e)si=tamu Achilles’ tendon of deer. Medicinal use: to strengthen the body, the 
tendon is added to distilled palm wine. To prepare, the Achilles’ tendon is washed 
twice in distilled wine, which is later discarded. Prepared Achilles’ tendon is added to 
container of palm wine which is drunk sparingly as needed. 

mayana kind of plant (Plectranthus scutellarioides (L.) R. Br., Lamiaceae). Medicinal use: to 
treat swelling in limb, a leaf is rolled between hands until soft, then mixed with min- 
eral lime and rubbed on the wound. The plant can be repeatedly applied until swelling 
reduces. 

minyak kayu putih tea tree oil (derived from Melaleuca quinquenervia (Cav.) S. T. Blake, 
Myrtaceae). This is a commercially purchased product for which there is no Alune term 
(and therefore it is referred to by the Malay term). Medicinal use: to treat bruising fol- 
lowing a fall, a young child’s head and entire body is firmly massaged with the oil. 

mou tapele kind of vine (Aglaonema commutatum Schott, Araceae). Medicinal use: to treat 
muscular pain and sprains, young leaves are heated over a fire to soften them, then 
coconut oil is rubbed on the leaf and the leaf is applied to the sore muscle or sprain as 
a compress. It is said to feel cool and fresh. The epidermal layer is also used as a 
compress for sprains: it is removed, cleaned and grated then put on the sprain and 
wrapped with cloth. 

popole cluster fig (Ficus racemosa L., Moraceae). Medicinal use: young leaves of the red 
variety of cluster fig are used to treat body pains. The leaves are boiled in coconut 
milk until the milk has completely evaporated. The sore part of the body is wrapped 
with the leaf and then covered with cloth. 

usue kind of plant (Laportea sp., Urticaceae): stem and underside of leaf causes extreme 
itching, burning sensation, and blistering of skin. Medicinal use: rubbed on limbs to 
treat muscle pain. 


Nausea (iba). 
yzygium aromati (L.) Merr., Myrtaceae). Medicinal use: stomach 
is rubbed with clove to treat nausea. 
pa’u tobacco (Nicotiana tabacum L., Solanaceae). Medicinal use: stomach is rubbed with 
tobacco to treat nausea. 
soi betel nut palm (Areca catechu L., Arecaceae). Medicinal use: seed is chewed as a treat- 
ment for nausea (including morning sickness 
soi ‘berele betel nut palm (Areca catechu L., Arecaceae): fourth and final stage of growth of 
the fruit. Medicinal use: stomach is rubbed with this fruit to treat nausea. 


alinai ainicl t (S 
4A 


Poisoning (male) & snake bite. 

ai sa’ale kind of plant, said to be a kind of cluster fig (Ficus racemosa L., Moraceae). Medici- 
nal use: a cure for poisoning. The fruit of the tree is eaten to extract the liquid, wa 

constitutes the cure, and the skin is spat out. 

wata muri crepe ginger (Costus speciosus (Koenig) Sm., Costaceae [Zingiberaceae]). Me- 
dicinal use: the stem of the plant is used either to treat or prevent snake bite. It 1s 
pounded then rubbed over the body which deters snakes from biting. If bitten, ow 
pounded stem can be rubbed on the wound. 

tema amine kind of banana (Musa acuminata Colla, Musaceae). Medicinal use: sap taken 
from a small plant is drunk to treat bite of death adder (Acanthophis sp.). The iat L 
is said to cure through inducing vomiting. 


re Skin complaints (ndu’ane, busale). 
ai inai clove tree (Syzygium aromaticum (L.) Merr., Myrtaceae). Medicinal use: as a CU 
scabies, the skin is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chinese chive, and 
the components of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, mineral lime). 


re for 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 63 


{DL L 7 Pee oOo . ely eek yee, : leaves 
v 


ai tetu ndu’ane kind of 
are rubbed on the skin to. treat ' scabies (ndu’ ane). Its name literally means s “the tree 
with scabies leaves.” 

bawan lala’we shallot shallot (Allium cepa L. (agg ), Alliaceae). Medici 
as a cure for scabies, the skin is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chi- 
nese chive, and the components of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, 
mineral lime). 

‘amu leaf of betel vine (Piper sp., Piperaceae). Medicinal use: as a cure for scabies, the skin 
is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chinese chive, and the components 
of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, mineral lime). 

‘apul tubui shoot tip of the autumn pumpkin vine (Cucurbita pepo L., Cucurbitaceae). Me- 
dicinal use: form of treatment for early stages of skin disease (ichtyosis, tinea). The 
affected part of the body is scraped until it becomes a bleeding wound. A mixture of 
mineral lime and shoot tips from a pumpkin plant is then applied 

‘ucai loini Chinese chive (Allium tuberosum Rotter ex Sprengel, Alliaceae). Medicinal use: 
as a cure for scabies, the skin is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chi- 
nese chive, and the components of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, 

al lime). 

leite coconut oil (derived from Cocos nucifera). Medicinal use: a) As a cure for itching and 
blistering of the skin caused by contact with the hairy caterpillar (Lepidoptera), the 
skin is rubbed with coconut oil. b) As a cure for itching caused by spines on stem of 
giant bamboo, the skin can be rubbed with coconut oil. 

milu candlenut (Aleurites moluccana (L.) Willd., Euphorbiaceae). Medicinal use: as a cure 
for itching caused by spines on stem of giant bamboo, the skin can be rubbed with oil 
from the candlenut. 

popole putile cluster fig (Ficus racemosa L., Moraceae). Medicinal use: ichtyosis may be 
treated in its early stage. The affected part of the body is scraped until it becomes a 
bleeding wound. The sap from the base of a petiole is dripped on to the wound. This 


4 


se’u tinai rhizome of ginger (Zingiber officinale Roscoe, Zingiberaceae). Medicinal use: as a 
cure for scabies, the skin is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chinese 
~ and the components of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, mineral 
lim 

soi betel nut palm (Areca catechu L., Arecaceae). Medicinal use: a) As a cure for scabies, the 
skin is rubbed with a mixture of clove, shallot, ginger, Chinese chive, and the compo- 
nents of a betel quid (sirih leaves, fruit of the areca palm, mineral lime). b) As a cure 
for itching and blistering of the skin caused by contact we lous ey pie aap (Lept- 
doptera), the skin is rubbed Lat hives ae 
caused by spines on stem of giant bamboo, the skin can be iste with ene 
of the areca palm. ane Ambonese 

totlaine kin in treatment of fungal infect a 
aine kind of pint. Medicinal rns i Ph her bask te scraped 
away, then the inner bark is es and put on the wound. ao pete ioe 8 peey 
consistency, and sticks more effectively as it dries 


St m and underside . = of this plant cause 
usue Sra of plant (Laportea SP. Urticaceae). e Jock ae 


the severe itching, hives and prastaesie caused by contact ‘with a the wee aa 
mayaune (Laportea sp., Urticace the affected part 
of the body is immediately aban with leaves from this plant. 


64 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


Smallpox (uwane). 

lotine kind of plant (Eurycles amboinensis (= Proiphys amboinensis [L.] Herbert), 
Amaryllidaceae). Medicinal use: treatment of smallpox, which reached epidemic pro- 
portions in Lohiasapalewa in earlier times. A plaster or compress is made from the 
leaves and placed on the wounds. The leaf is heated to soften, rubbed with coconut 
oil, then applied to the wound and left in place for one or two days to draw pus from 
the wound. This plant is always replanted in new gardens to ensure its availability. 

Toothache (nise ‘erale). 

tapua ‘otote creeping oxalis (Oxalis corniculata L. Oxalidaceae). Medicinal use: in treat- 
ment of nerve pain in teeth, or soreness from erupting teeth in a young child. The 
leaves are washed, then placed in warm water to soften (for approximately 20 min- 
utes). Then the plant is discarded and the patient gargles several times with the water. 

tolun nise ma’erale nipple fruit (Solanum mammosum L., Solanaceae). Medicinal use: the 
name of the plant (literally “the sore tooth eggplant”) derives from its use as a treat- 
ment for toothache. A clay pot is heated on fire and seeds from this plant are then 
baked in the pot. One end of a strawlike petiole from a papaya tree is placed over the 
burnt seed and the smoke is inhaled onto the sore tooth. It is asserted that the pest 
which is causing the toothache will fall out and into the pot. 

Urinary tract infection (tili senete). 

palate kind of tall grass (Poaceae). Medicinal use: the leaves of the grass are tied around 
the waist as a treatment for urinary tract infections, and left in place until cured. 

t lang-alang (Imperata cylindrica (L.) Beauv., Poaceae). Medicinal use: the root is used 
to treat urinary tract infections. The root is pounded until soft, then boiled in two 
glasses of water until reduced to one glass. The liquid is mixed with 2-3 spoons of 
honey and drunk. 

seae ta’unui spiny fruited pick-a-back (Phyllanthus urinaria, Euphorbiaceae). Medicinal use: 
ea ed to treat st h ailments, and kidney and bladder problems, such as blood 


in the urine. 
tema ‘watnabane kind of banana (Musa fehi, Musaceae). Medicinal use: fruit is used as a 
medicine to cleanse the bladder and make urine very yellow. 


APPENDIX 2: PLANTS USED BY MIDWIVES 


until red hot, then placing them under a bed base made of sago leaf midribs. The 
patient is enclosed with matting and water is poured over stones. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 65 


boro kind of plant (Colocasia sp., Araceae). Medicinal use: the leaf is used as a treatment for 
a protracted and difficult labor. Water or cold tea is poured into the center of the leaf 
and the patient drinks the fluid directly from the leaf. If the placenta is slow in being 
expelled, the leaf is tapped once on the head of the woman, then brushed the length of 
the front of the body before being thrown away. 

unine tumeric (Curcuma domestica (= C. longa L.), Zingiberaceae). Medicinal use: to replen- 
ish the strength of a woman who has just given birth, the rhizome is grated, boiled 
with coconut milk, palm sugar, ground pepper, coriander, cumin, and tamarind, then 
drunk on several consecutive mornings 

lahlate nutgrass (Cyperus rotundus L., Cyperaceae). Medicinal 1 in a steam bath as 
a post-partum treatment; the leaves of the grass are boiled together with clove leaves, 
nutmeg leaves, lemongrass, and citrus tree leaves, then placed inside a sauna made of 
matting. The woman squat the infusion for about fi inutes to cl I If 
and regain strength. 

musi munine makrut lime (Citrus hystrix, Rutaceae). Medicinal use: the fruit is used as a 
post-partum treatment for swollen belly; up to 10 fruits are cut in two and baked on 
the coals of a fire until the juice boils. Lime is rubbed on a plate, then the juice is 
Squeezed on to the plate and mixed with mineral lime until smooth. The paste is then 
rubbed on the belly below the navel. 

me’u “a’ale kind of thorny creeping vine (Smilax sp., Smilacaceae). Medicinal use: the leaf 
is used as a post-partum treatment for swollen belly. The soft, young leaves are boiled 
in two glasses of water until reduced to one glass, then drunk. 

minyak kayu putih tea tree oil (derived from Melaleuca quinquenervia (Cav.) S. T. Blake, 
Myrtaceae). This is a commercially purchased product for which there is no Alune 
term (and therefore it is referred to by the Malay term). Medicinal use: 2-3 drops of oil 
are added to warm water to cleanse a woman who has just given birth. A cloth rinsed 
with the water is used to massage her belly to remove blood clots. 

popole cluster fig (Ficus racemosa L., Moraceae). Medicinal use: young leaves of the red 
variety of cluster fig are used to treat women who have just given birth. The leaves are 
boiled in coconut milk until the milk has completely evaporated. The lower body is 
wrapped with the leaves and then covered with cloth. 

Conception (mluti). 

ai tetu bina white kyllinga (Cyperus kyllingia ?, Cyperaceae). Medicinal use: this plant is 
used by women who desire a female child. The leaf is tied over the belly of the woman 
and left in place until it dries and falls. Its name means “the tree which drops fe- 
males.” The plant is said to be effective during the first three months of 6s sce ie 

seae ta’unui spiny fruited pick-a-back (Phyllantl inaria, Eupt ). Medicinal use: 
this plant is used by women who desire a male child. The topmost leaf is discarded, 
and the second leaf is said to provide the male child. The leaf is tied over the belly of 
the woman and left in place until it dries and falls. This plant has small round ater 
fruit which people say resemble testicles. Its alternate name, a1 tetu mo'wai, — y 
means “the tree which drops males.” The plant is said to be effective during the first 
three months of pregnancy. 

Contraception and abortion. 

17% ST \ wie Ft F ). Medicinal use: 


gh sane 1 . 
abortifacient. The skin is peeled from a young fruit, which is then grated and squeezed 
to extract its juice. The juice is boiled with two glasses of water until it reduces to Boe 
glass, then is mixed with ash from the hearth and drunk to induce abortion. This 
abortificent is used only within the first two months of pregnancy: after that time a) 
abortion is considered dangerous to the mother and b) the fetus is considered human. 


66 FLOREY and WOLFF Vol. 18, No. 1 


lahlate nutgrass (Cyperus rotundus L., Cyperaceae). Medicinal uses: leaves are cut and dried 
for one day, then boiled, and the water is drunk to induce abortion. This is not pre- 
ferred as an abortificent as it is said to damage the uterus and cause infertility. 

putune alang-alang (Imperata cylindrica (L.) Beauv., Poaceae). Medicinal use: the plant is 
used as a contraceptive or abortifacient. Alang-alang and tapana (Loranthus sp., 
Loranthaceae) are pounded and boiled together in two glasses of water until reduced 
to one glass, then drunk. Midwives advise women to drink the mixture two weeks 
after menstruation to prevent conception. The mixture is used to space children in a 


amily. 

seae ta’unui spiny fruited pick-a-back (Phyllanthus urinaria, Euphorbiaceae). Medicinal use: 
leaf of plant is used as an abortifacient. Ten leaves are boiled in water until approxi- 
mately one glass of water remains, and then drunk to induce abortion. 

tapana (Loranthaceae). Medicinal use: the plant is used as a contraceptive or abortifacient. 


Alang-alang (Imperata cylindrica (L.) Beauv., Poaceae) and tapana are pounded and 
boiled together in two glasses of water until reduced to one glass, then drunk. Mid- 
wives advise women to drink the mixture two weeks after menstruation to prevent 
conception. The mixture is used to space children in a family. It is said that this plant 
can make men impotent, and can make young women who have not yet had a child 


infertile. 


Breastfeeding. 


‘bue lala’we rice bean (Vigna umbellata (Thunb.) Ohwi & Ohashi, Fabaceae). Medicinal use: 


The leaves are washed, 


Lite LiUVY UO 


=: 2 hea = ; 
rubbed to soften, mixed with mineral lime and rubbed on breast. The treatment is 
repeated several times if necessary. 


APPENDIX 3: GLOSSARY OF ALUNE TERMS 


ai ‘watai a plant which can be used as a medicine; a plant which has healing 
properties 

biane midwife 

hela’e to exorcise; to remove an evil spirit from a person through the use of 
incantations 

basa to be possessed: to go into a trance in order to determine the cause of 
an illness or the source of a problem 

era to be ill, be in pain 

‘nau the process of divination: to try to find the source of an illness or prob- 
em using a variety of aids 

nipa we kind of plant (Hornstedtia sp., Zingiberaceae), used as a tool in divina- 

ion 

‘wate protection charm 

lanite sky 

lau common palm civet, principally arboreal. Healers who use ane 
tions may not eat this animal because it is asserted that the civet ¢@ 
gave them some of their knowledge of healing 

lepate mlerude a healing register spoken prior to treating certain injuries with incanr 
tations 

lerue 


to heal by ‘blowing’ an incantation over someone 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 67 


lita evil spirit, devil 

lopon inai mineral lime. M I shell com f mineral lime which 
is used in a betel quid: the shells are dried, baked, and pounded to 
extract the chalk 

luma posone birthing hut 

ma’aleru one who heals by reciting incantations 

ma’amlea thief 

ma’selu a healer who assisted after childbirth by inspecting the newborn child 
and iri I i ] b] y such t ight i 524 } d limbs 


Literally: “one who sees” 

marele cuscus (generic), Phalangeridae. Cuscus are linked with myths and 
rituals related to life-giving and preserving, including the origin of 
Alune midwifery knowledge 


mleane theft 

ni‘wel (e)si=buai fruit of the coconut palm (Cocos nucifera L., Arecaceae), used as a tool 
in divination 

nitu matale spirit of the dead, ancestor 

nulu to massage, rub (body, not head) 

ose’e to massage, rub one’s temples 

punale the midrib (leaf petiole-rachis) of the sago palm which is used to build 
walls; used as a tool in divination 

soune to commit adultery 

tapele earth 

tapel lalei territory: the complete territory owned and occupied by a village, in- 


cluding primary and secondary forest, groveland, gardens, and 
settlement sites 
ti’luline common palm civet, terrestrial. Healers who use i tati y not 
all Soe ima bin oad ti. 


. 


eat this anim g 


of their knowledge of healing 
BOOK REVIEW 


Population Dynamics of a Philippine Rain Forest People: The San Ildefonso 
Agta. J. D. Early and T. N. Headland. University Press of Florida, Gainesville. 
1998. Pp. 208. $39.95 (cloth). ISBN: 0-8130-1555-3. 

This book is based on over 40 years of demographic and ethnographic work 
among the San Ildefonso Agta. The quality of the publication certainly reflects the 
authors’ profound intimacy with the study population. In just over 200 pages that 
include 80 tables, figures, maps, and black-and-white photographs, Early and 
Headland meticulously craft an outstanding book, a must-read for anyone inter- 
ested in tropical rain forest peoples. It es ag ddition to 
ecological anthropology, or geography course syllabus. 

The 12 nad ee avvied sens six themes. In Part 1 they introduce the 
study population and provide the essential ethnographic data. In Part 2 they dis- 
cuss how historical forces have shaped the trajectory of the Agta in general, and 


* a eee 


68 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


the San Ildefonso population specifically. Their discussion of methods in Part 3 is 
a high point of the book and could very well serve as a blueprint for future studies 
in demographic anthropology. In Parts 4 and 5 they present and discuss their data, 
while in Part 6 they attempt to shed comparative light on the population dynam- 
ics of the San Ildefonso Agta. 

Many rainforest peoples have experienced extreme cultural changes as they 
have come into contact with the industrialized world. The San Ildefonso Agta are 
no exception. The text encapsulates this cultural transition quantitatively, through 
the lens of demographic anthropology. Early and Headland follow the Agta through 
three arbitrarily delimited yet highly salient stages: the Forager Phase (1950-1964), 
the Transition Phase (1965-1979), and the Peasant Phase (1980-1994). By analyzing 
the four principal demographic variables — fertility, mortality, in-migration, and 
out-migration — the authors successfully identify the principal cause of accul- 
turation among the Agta: hypergyny. Recently, women from the foraging group 
have been marrying lowland, Agta peasant men which has dramatically acceler- 
ated the growth of the acculturating population while subtracting from the foraging 
population. Such “cultural migration” is an enormous threat to the San Ildefonso 
Agta foragers and could ultimately lead to the assimilation of the Agta into the 
national Filipino ethnic matrix. 

Although the quality of the analysis throughout the text is at times brilliant 
and the explanation of methodology superb, several of the authors’ conclusions 
mar what is otherwise an outstanding text. Most importantly, the discussion of 
rampant acculturation among the Agta is not grounded in a clear definition of the 
peasantry, and, because the authors are content with understanding culture as a 
non-dynamic system, the discussion of acculturation, the peasantry, and Agta “cul- 
tural maintenance” seems somewhat shallow. Also, in their presentation of 
“Characteristics of the Agta Population,” Early and Headland momentarily di- 
gress to a brief evaluation of the impact of high mortality on individual 
consciousness and the self (p. 126). In a text so dedicated to quantitative descrip- 
tion and analysis, such a digression seems out of place. 

Despite these minor problems, the text is a great success. Readability, close at- 
tention to methods, and the quantitative support of qualitative ideas are the book's 
chief resources. The authors’ conclusions and analysis in the final, comparative chap- 
ter also have very practical consequences. They contribute to our understanding of 
landless peasants and their role in global tropical deforestation. The text's final para- 
graphs emphasize the importance of missionary work in the survival of foraging 
populations, which may strike a sour note with some, but few will deny the book's 
important contributions to the field of demographic anthropology. ; 

Darron Asher Collins 
Department of Anthropology 
Tulane University 

1021 Audubon Street 

New Orleans, LA 70118 


, Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):69-101 Summer 1998 


CLASSIFICATION AND NOMENCLATURE IN WITSUWIT’EN 
f ETHNOBOTANY: A PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION 


LESLIE M. JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD 
> Department of Anthropology 
University of Alberta 
Edmonton, Alberta 

Canada T6G 2H4 


SHARON HARGUS 
) Department of Linguistics 
) University of Washington 
Box 354340 
Seattle, Washington 
USA 98195-4340 


ABSTRACT. — The Witsuwit’en are Athapaskan speaking peopl 
British Columbia, Canada. The traditionally foragers who | t , 
game animals and a diversity of plant foods. Witsuwit’en plant classification 
includes a large number of generics or basic terms. Folk specifics are poorly 
developed. There are also major plant classes, or “life forms”, and intermediate 
groupings. “Life forms” include ‘tree’, ‘plant’, ‘berry’, ‘flower’, ‘moss’, ‘fungus’ 
and perhaps ‘grass’. The first two satisfy criteria proposed by Berlin and Brown 
in being morphologically defined, transitive, and containing relatively large 
contrast sets. The remainder are cross-cutting (‘berry’), utilitarian ( ‘berry’, ‘flower’), 
or empty (‘moss’, ‘mushroom’, ‘flower’), showing similarities to “life forms” 
reported for other northwestern North American peoples. Several intermediate 
groupings are proposed, defined either by morphology or utility, including such 
types as ‘willows’, ‘spines’, and ‘poisonous plants’. Utility seems to be important 
in perception and grouping of plants, and may be directly or indirectly coded in 
plant names. A number of Witsuwit’en plant names are loan-words from Gitksan, 
a Tsimshianic language spoken to the north and west. 


RESUMEN. — Los witsuwit’en son gente de lengua atabascana del noroeste de la 
) Columbia Britanica en Canada. Tradicionalmente eran pescadores de salmon, 
cazadores y recolectores de diversos alimentos vegetales. La clasificacion 
witsuwit’en de plantas incluye un gran ntimero de términos genericos 0 basicos 
que se designan por lexemas primarios simples o no productivos, 0 ws ocasiones 
por frases descriptivas. Hay también clases mayores de plantas, ) formas de 
vida”, y agrupaciones intermedias. Solamente una forma genérica — hasta 
ahora, tl’oy, ‘pasto’, parece estar dividid tegorias indig espec cas s 
“formas de vida” incluyen ‘arbol’, ‘planta’, ‘baya’, ‘flor’, ‘musgo, hongo’ y tal 
vez ‘pasto’. La pri d tisf. ] iterios prof tos f berlin y brown 
en cuanto a ser definidas morfologicamente, ser transitivas, y contener juegos de 
contraste relativamente grandes. Las restantes son categorias entrecruzadas 
(‘bayas’), son utilitarias (‘bayas’, ‘flores’), o estan vacias (‘musgo’, ‘hongo’, ‘flor’), 
mostrando semejanzas con las “formas de vida” reportadas entre otros pueblos 
del noroeste de Norteamérica. Se proponen varias agrupaciones intermedias, 
definidas ya sea por su morfologia 0 por su utilidad, incluyendo tipos tales como 


£ 41 


4 1 


4 en 


70 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


los ‘sauces’, las ‘espinas’, y las ‘plantas venenosas’. La utilidad parece ser 
importante en la percepci6n y agrupacion de las plantas, y puede ser codificada 
directa o indirectamente en los nombres botanicos. Cierto nimero de nombres 

itsuwit’en de plant ést del gitksan, una lengua tsimshianica hablada 


hacia el norte y occidente. 


RESUME. — Les Witsuwit’ t des Athapasquans du nord-ouest de la Colombie 
britannique au Canada. Ils vivaient traditionnellement de chasse au gros et au 
petit gibier, de péche au saumon et de cueillette de plantes alimentaires. La 
classification witsuwit’en des plantes comprend un nombre élevé de taxons de 
base ou génériques qui sont désignés par des lexémes primaires simples (non 
analysables) ou stériles (analysables mais non productifs), ou quelquefois des 
phrases descriptives. Il y a également des classes majeures de plantes ou formes 
du vivant, et des catégories intermédiaires. Un seul générique décrit jusqu’a 
présent, tl’oy ‘herbe’, semble étre subdivisé en taxons spécifiques. Les “formes 
du vivant” sont les suivantes: ‘arbre’, ‘plante’, ‘baie’, ‘fleur’, ‘mousses’, 
‘champignon’ et peut-étre ‘herbe’. Les deux premiéres sont conformes aux 
caractesiotiquies de ces catégories telles qu’établies par Berlin et Brown : elles sont 

ota ie ne ae . n a ye ‘ | a Cree ee 


rt , 
en ensembles contrastés relativement larges. Les autres chevauchent d’autres 
catégories (‘baie’), sont de nature utilitaire (‘baie’, ‘fleur’), ou sont vides (‘mousses’, 
‘champignon’, ‘fleur’), montrant des similitudes avec les ‘formes du vivant’ 
rapportées pour d’autres peuples du nord-ouest de l’ Amérique du Nord. Certaines 
catégories intermédiaires sont proposées, définies a partir de critéres 
morphologiques ou utilitaires, comme les ‘saules’, ‘les plantes a piquants’ et ‘les 
Plantes vénéneuses’. Les facteurs utilitaires semblent jouer un rdle important dans 
a + at +4 ce 4 "ee Siesta ca ee +eoflstor 


om hel a = ad La om lg r 
directement ou indirectement cet état. Un certain nombre de noms de plantes 


witsuwit’en sont des emprunts du Gitksan, une langue tsimshiane parlée au nord 
et a l’ouest. 


INTRODUCTION 


The Witsuwit’en, an Athapaskan! speaking group of northwestern British 
Columbia (Figure 1), are traditional foragers in a largely forested environment 
fransitional between the coastal rain forest and the boreal forest. Their traditional 
subsistence emphasized fishing for anadromous salmon, lake fishing, and hunt- 
a for large and small game, supplemented with collection of a wide variety of 
berries, and a few kinds of tree cambium, root vegetables, and greens. The 
Witsuwit’en presently live largely in two modern villages along the Bulkley Rivet, 
and are integrated into the contemporary Canadian cash economy, although vatr 
ous foraging activities still take place (Gottesfeld 1994, 1995). 

Virtually all modern Witsuwit’en speak at least some English and essentially 
all people under about 40 years of age are monolingual English speakers: In 
Moricetown, the community with the largest number of Witsuwit’en speakers, 
only 10-15% of the community of roughly 1200 can be classed as native speakers. 
Witsuwit’en is spoken in daily conversation primarily by elders over about © 
years of age; this group of people may have limited fluency in English. In public 
venues, Witsuwit’en is encountered chiefly in the feasthall. All songs are * 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 71 


NISGA'A 4 
cask” dep ws 
i ee 
Temsian 2. COLUMBI 
3 = XALK 
~ CHIL’ 
N 
SCALE LILLOET 
0 100200 km pee tata 


FIGURE 1. — Map showing the general areas of different British Columbia indigenous 
languages mentioned in the text. Languages not mentioned in our analysis are not 
indicated on the map. 


Witsuwit’en, and formal speeches are preferably given in Witsuwit’en. Data for 
this study were collected primarily from speakers born before 1930, for whom 
Witsuwit’en was the preferred language. Some younger speakers were also con- 
sulted regarding proper translation into English of certain terms. 


, 4 ] 


i WI 


Methods. — The data for this analysis of plant classifi d t 

collected by Johnson-Gottesfeld during ethnobotanical, ethnomedical, and eco- 
logical fieldwork among the Witsuwit’en in the period 1986-1996. The data were 
gathered in a series of unstructured interviews regarding plant uses, identifica- 
tion, and naming, and during several field trips to gather medicinal plants. Plant 
information was elicited at times by bringing fresh specimens to elders and in- 
quiring what specific plants lled. Information was also collected by reference 
to a loose-leaf notebook of color photos of local plants and plant parts such as 
berries, stems, petioles, or rootstocks. Other plant data were volunteered sponta- 
neously. Confirmation of identity of spontaneously described plants was by 
reference to fresh plant material collected to confirm postulated identifications, 
and to “case” specimens (Bye 1986) of known identity (e.g., a dried plant rhizome 


72 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


carried as a charm), or by freehand sketches and verbal descriptions, later verified 
by showing a plant or specimen to an elder to confirm the identification. Voucher 
specimens are deposited in the herbarium of the Royal British Columbia Museum 
in Victoria; a duplicate set is held in the Herbarium of the University of Alberta. 

Interviews were conducted in Witsuwit’en with a bilingual translator? or in 
English, with use of Witsuwit’en plant names and other botanical terms. Plant 
names and taxonomic questions were explored with 19 different consultants, all 
fluent, native speakers of Witsuwit’en. Eighteen of these were over 60 years of age 
when interviewed, and all of the consultants who contributed substantial linguis- 
tic data had lived on the land at least in their childhood. 

Linguistic research was independently carried out by Sharon Hargus with field- 
work from 1988-present, and she was consulted during the data gathering phase 
to check the correctness of linguistic data. Some of her recent fieldwork has in- 
cluded re-elicitation of plant terms originally collected by Priscilla Kari (now 
Russell) in the mid 1970s and confirmation of the referents of these terms with 
specimens or photographs in plant manuals. Linguistic analyses presented in this 
paper are her work. 


Classification. — Ethnobiological classifications have been the subject of many pa- 
pers and much theoretical debate. According to Berlin (1992; Berlin et al. 1973), 

thnobiological classifications are taxonomic and hierarchical in organization, con- 
sisting of up to six different levels or ranks. The most inclusive is what he terms 
the “unique beginner” (e.g., ‘plant’), unnamed in most cultures, ranging through 
“life form” (e.g., ‘tree’), “intermediate” taxa (e.g., ‘evergreen’), folk generics (e.g., 
pine’), folk specifics (‘lodgepole pine’), and folk varieties. 

Not all cultures have all of the “universal” ethnobiological taxonomic ranks 

represented in their classifications. In particular, Berlin (1992), Waddy (1982), and 
Hunn and French (1984) have argued that foraging peoples tend to lack folk spe- 
cifics and may have fewer recognized life form categories, or no life forms (Brown 
1985). Most generics are reported to be included in one or another life form, but 
many are not clustered within intermediate taxa. Similarly, few generics are Te 
ported to be further sub-divided. 
__ Ithas been argued that a classification which usually develops only two levels 
is perhaps not most fruitfully conceptualized as “hierarchical” (Morris 1984; Ellen 
1993; Randall 1976, 1987).? However, it is not our purpose to debate this theoreti- 
cal point here. Although alternative terms for ethnobiological taxa have been 
proposed by Bulmer (1974) and Atran (1990), Berlin’s terms for the different ranks 
of folk biological classification are those generally used in the literature, and we 
have chosen to employ them in this study. Our use of these terms does not mean 
that we accept a priori Berlin’s conclusions about the nature of ethnobiological 
classification, and our usage of “life form” does not conform entirely to his crite 
ria, as will be discussed below. 

Generics are what Berlin (1992) calls the basic units, the most salient and per 
ceptually distinct “kinds” of plants or animals, in any ethnobotanical taxonomy: 
Berlin (1992) and Atran (1990) have commented that folk generics are usually 
equivalent to scientific species in a local context. However, the distinction between 
generics may be more on the order of differences between scientific genera, be 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 73 


cause many genera will be monotypic in any local envi t. In i 
the generics may be partitioned into folk specifics, which are recognized as being 
special cases of the generic which differ in one or a few characters. In relatively 
few instances, folk species are further broken down into superficially recognized 
but similar varieties. This usually occurs with distinctive cultivars or color phases 
of cultivars, and does not typically occur with wild plant species. 

Major plant categories in ethnobotanical classification have been called life 
forms (Atran 1985, 1990; Berlin et al. 1973; Berlin 1992; Brown 1977, 1984). Life 
forms are understood by these authors to be broad groupings of plant kinds based 
on morphological characters, typically designated by monomorphemic words 
(called by Berlin [1992] simple primary lexemes), and containing contrast sets of 
subordinate named generics. Atran (1990) maintains that life forms are natural, 
rather than artificial, categories which divide up the botanical domain without 
overlap (although Berlin 1992 notes that not all generics appear to be affiliated 
with these broad groupings). There has been considerable debate in the literature 
over the validity and y of such plant groupings in cultural context (H 
1982; Randall 1976, 1987; Randall and Hunn 1984; Morris 1984; Taller de Tradicién 
Oral and Beaucage 1987; Turner 1974, 1987) and what the nature of broad plant 
groupings is in various cultures whose ethnobotanical classification has been in- 
vestigated. 

Intermediates were originally conceptualized by Berlin et al. (1973) as covert 
groupings of generics between the ranks of life form and generic; they were be- 
lieved to be rare. Subsequent work has revealed that intermediates are more 
widespread than previously believed, and that they might sometimes be overtly 
labeled (Berlin 1992). Studies by Turner (1989) and Taller de Tradicién and Beaucage 
(1987) reveal that for some groups, there might be a relatively large number of 
intermediates of varying inclusivity, and, according to Turner, with variable bases 
for inclusion, ranging from strictly morphological to utilitarian or even symbolic. 
Atran (1985, 1990) rejects non-morphologically based intermediates, but allows 
for the existence of “covert family fragments”, morphologically based intermedi- 
ates which cross-cut the life form category, postulating that the modern botanical 
Family is derived from these. Brown (1977) has rejected unlabeled ethnobiological 
classes, while Taylor (1990) explores the relationship of botanical terminology to 
classification among the Tobelo, and concludes that unlabeled classes can be rec- 
ognized by the use of terms which pertain only to the members of the postulated 
class. An example from our study area would be the existence of the term ?’1 ‘co- 
nifer leaf or needle’, which implies the class “evergreen needle bearing tree/ 
shrub.”4 


= lia 


WITSUWIT’EN CLASSIFICATION 

Witsuwit’en classification includes general plant classes of the “life form” rank, 
a number of generics, at least int diate groupings, and possibly one poly- 
typic generic divided into several species. The generic level is the only level 
encountered in general use; major plant classes or “life forms” and intermediates 
are more implicit than commonly referred to in discourse about plants. As is typi- 
cal of most folk botanical classifications, Witsuwit’en generics In general match 


74 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS 


Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 1.— Witsuwit’en Basic Level Terms: Generics and “Empty” Life Forms 


Plant Species English Name Witsuwit’en Name Life form 
Abies lasiocarpa (Hook.) Nutt. subalpine fir ts’o tsan, ho’ogs dacan 

cer glabrum Torr. ssp. douglasii Douglas maple fag, ?ag con dacon 

(Hook.)Wesmael 
Achillea millefolium L. yarrow ba?al yez wani 
Agrostis tenuis Sibth. red top tl’oy tl’oy? 
Alectoria or Bryoria spp. “black tree moss” dax ye 
Allium cernuum Roth nodding onion tl’oy hottson 
cat’an hottson tl’oy? 
Alnus crispa (Ait.) Pursh ‘mountain alder’ waze dacan 
Alnus incana (L.) Moench alder q’as dacan 3 
Amelanchier alnifolium Nutt. saskatoon berry fayox dacan, mi 
Apocynum androsaemifolium L. spreading dogbane lex, c’ondeqt 
Aquilegia formosa Fisch. red columbine lasuc 
Aralia nudicaulis L. wild sarsparilla sconistl’es me 
—_— uva-ursi (L.) kinnikinnik doni¢ c’at an, mi 
Spr 

pie cordifolia Hook. and heart-leaved arnica; ditnic kwo’n 
?Taraxacum officinale Weber dandelion? 
Betula papyrifera Marsh. paper birch q’oy ea 
Carex sp. sedge tl’oy tel, tl’ oy? 


Chrysanthemum leucanthemum L. 
Cicuta douglasii? (DC) Coult. & 
Rose 


Cirsium arvense (L.) Scop. 
Cornus canadensis L. 


Cornus stolonifera Michx. 
Corylus cornuta Marsh. 
Crataegus douglasii? Lind]. # 
Cypripedium montanum Dougl. 
Delphinium glauca # S. Wats. 
Dryopteris expansa (K.B. Pres!) 
Fraser-Jenkins & Jerm 
Epilobium angustifolium L. 
Equisetum arvense L., 
E. pratense Ehrb. 
Fragaria virginiana Duchesne 
Fritillaria camschatcensis (L.) 
Ker-Gawl 
Geum macrophyllum Willd. 
eracleum lanatum Michx. 
Inonotus obliquus (Pers.: Fr.) Pilat 


Juniperus communis L. 


olz Abies lasiocarpa and/or 
Tsuga mertensiana (Bong.) Carr 


ox-eye daisy 
water hemlock? 


Canada thistle 
bunchberry 


red-osier dogwood 
beaked hazelnut 
?black hawthorne 


mountain lady slipper 


tall larkspur 
spiny woodfern 


fireweed 
horsetail 


wild strawberry 
riceroot lily 


large-leaved avens 
cow parsnip 
cinder conk 


common juniper 


‘mountain juniper’ 
timberline subalpine 
fir and mountain 

hemlock 


c’at’an tsay? 
woyen co, wonyeni Co, 


honyeni co 

wale yinat’oyh 

danig yez, cani¢ t’an, c’at’an, 
Guzi¢ mi mi? 


gaq dalq’a’n, q’entsec 2 
tsaloc qgekwa’n 


pas mi? 
daltse yil, calge yiz 
dani zic Gus 
doyi’n 

c’ot’an 


ie8 de?, yaxc’at’an tl’oy 


yan tadalq’o’n c’ot’an, mi? 
c’angat, c’angatl 
~ at ban 

c’ot’an 


pee ac’asts’o?, tl’eg ts€ 


detsan ge got, 
detsan ?angot, 
detsan con, detsan ?al 


ts’ax dacan 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 


TABLE 1.— (continued) 


Plant Species English Name Witsuwit’en Name Life form 
Lathrys nevadensis Wats. peavine qonesdas 
Ledum groenlandicum Oeder Labrador tea lodi masgic 
Lonicera involucrata (Rich.) Banks _ black twinberry sas mi? con dacan, mi? 
Lupinus sp. (arcticus?) lupine dzat q’at tl’oy 
Lycodium selago L.?* fir clubmoss? hatac 
Lysichiton americanum Hult+n skunk cabbage c’at’an co 
& St. John 
Mentha arvensis L.? field min c’at’an ts’oltsan 
ip ard polysepalum Engelm. and _yellow a lily xet t’ats, dalkw’ax 


— L. 
Oplopanax horridum (Smith) Mig. 


Picea engelmanii x pest 
Picea mariana (Mill.) Bri 


Pinus contorta Dougl. 

Plantago ‘major L. 

Poaceae, indet. 

Populus tremuloides Michx. 

Populus balsamifera L. ssp. 

trichocarpa (Torr. & Gray) Hult. 

Prunus ?pensylvanica L. 

Prunus pensylvanica® 

Pyrola sp. or Moneses uniflora 
(L.) Gra 

Pyrus fusca Raf. 

Ribes oxyacanthoides L. 


Ribes triste? Pall. 

Ribes ?lacustre (Pers.) Poir 
Rosa acicularis Lindl. 
Rubus idaeus L. 

Rubus parviflorus Nutt. 


Rubus spectabilis Pursh 
Sambucus racemosa L. 

Sedum divergens Wats. 
Shepherdia sone (L.) Nutt. 
Sium suave?Walt. 


Smilacina racemosa (L.) Desf. 


Sorbus scopulina Greene 


devil’s club 


spruce 
black spruce 


lodgepole pine 


broad-leaved plantain 


‘ass Sp. 
trembling aspen 
black cottonwood 


‘red cherry’ 

bird cherry 

wintergreen or single 
delight, ‘beaver ear’ 

Pacific crabapple 

northern gooseberry 


‘wild red currant’ 
‘wild black currant’ 
prickly rose 

red raspberry 
thimbleberry 


salmonberry 


mountain ash 


Sphagnum magellanicum Brid. (part) sphagnum moss 


kwas, kwas co) 
’0 dacan 
nedus, ts’o, ts’o daz?? dacan 


condu dacan 
dalkw’ay netdac 
tl’oy ladi tl’oy 
t’ayas dacan 
ts’oy dacan 
snow dacon, mi? 
smits’oq docan, mi? 
tsa dzaq 
malqs dacan, mi? 
c’ondewazgi, mi? 
kw’ondewazgi 
q’ay datagi mi? 
dalkw’ax mi? mi? 
tset yil be ‘an, mi? 


bayotcakw mi : 
daq dingay (berry), c’ot’an, mi? 
misq’o? t’an(bush) 
mi 


moasaole’n ? 
qendli¢g dacan 
lu dacan 
tse mi? mi? 
nawas mi? 
sasco, tsasco 
fac tsokw mi? 
dacon hottson, canec’at, dacan 
masdzi tsawasdi, 
honq’ex ts’acan 


yin, yon tl’ax yal, yin 
yal? 


76 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 1.— (continued) 


Plant Species English Name Witsuwit’en Name Life form 
Spirea douglasit Hook. ssp. pink spirea ts’adazi¢ dacan 
menziesii (Hook.) Calder & Taylor 
Streptopus roseus Michx. rosy twisted stalk tsalto mi? 
Symphoricarpos albus (L.) Blake snowberry c’atsatt mi? dacon, mi? 
Thuja plicata Donn. ex D. Don western red cedar someon, het’al docan 
Tsuga heterophylla (Raf.) Sarg. western hemlock masdzu dacan 
Typha latifolia L. cattail tl’oy zi, tl’oy c’azi¢g _tl’oy? 
Urtica dioica L. stinging nettle hotts’ec 
Vaccinium caespitosum Michx. low-bush blueberry yontomi? mi? 
Vaccinium membranaceum Dougl. __ black huckleberry dagi mi? 
Vaccinium ovalifolium Smith high-bush blueberry dindze mi? 
Vaccinium oxycoccus L. bog cranberry mi?o mi? 
Veratrum viride Ait. Indian hellebore qunye c’at’an 
Viburnum edule (Michx.) Raf. high-bush cranberry _tsaftse mi? 
unidentified fern? or synonym for domuh t’an c’ot’an 
skunk cabbage?, from swamp 
fern spp. lady fern, spiny woodferntsat ?ay stan, ts’atl’ay stan 
fungi, in general mushroom, fungus c’ebedzagq, c’ayebedzaq, 
c’ebedzaq 
puffball sp. puffball dani zic cac’ascokw 
white lichen, probably a reindeer “caribou eat this” c’agu 
moss (Cladonia or Cladina spp.) 
water plant, unidentifiede ‘streaming’ tex dlaz 
flower, in general ‘flower’, wildflower _c’andec c’ondec 
mosses, in general mo i ] 


SS yin yi 
* from Jenness 1943, reelicited from Pat Namox in 1996; identification from photograph, 
uncertain 


# identification from Kari (1978) 


* may be an identification error as the Gitksan term refers to P. virginiana L. vat. 
ppneeai ii (Dougl.) Walp., chokecherry, which has dark fruit, in contrast to the red fruit 
of snow 


°° from the description, maybe a species of submerged Potamogeton 


well with scientific species, while relatively inconspicuous plants such as mosses, 
lichens and fungi (fungal fruiting bodies) are underdifferentiated, with only a few 
Witsuwit’en terms for the many kinds in the local biota. 


Generics. — Because the focus of the ethnobotanical study was on the utilization of 
plant resources, Johnson-Gottesfeld did not attempt to collect a complete inven 
tory of all plants distinguished and named by the Witsuwit’en. She obtained terms 
for hg basic level categories, that is, folk generics (see Table 1), and three terms 
which are “empty” life forms that appear to be undifferentiated residual classes 
(discussed below under Major plant classes and Intermediates). Seventy-one of the 
basic level categories are treated as folk generics which are not further subdivided. 
Further research by Hargus has added 16 terms for basic level classes and several 


variant names for plants already documented, for a total of 91 named basic level 
plant classes. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 77 


tsaitse ts’o 
highbush cranberry spruce 
a | : ; 
Viburnum edule ' 
X G/auca 
xeit’ats tl’oy 
‘waterlily’ ‘grass’ 
tl’oy Stazip 
t’oytl O O 
fcc ia ter er 
Calla palustris "oy 
[ e oO} tl’oy ledi O @ true grasses, Hoaceae cf. 
\ Nuphar polysepalum unie grass Agrostis tenuis 


prototype 
O scientific species 


FIGURE 2. — Diagrams of several Witsuwit’en generics, showing a range of 
relationships of between Witsuwit’en generics and scientific species and genera. The 
bounds of Witsuwit’en generics are indicated by gray outlines. The prototypical 
scientific species is indicated by a solid black circle. Any other scientific species included 
in the Witsuwit’en generic are indicated with hollow circles. The generic tl’oAf also 
contains named Witsuwit’en subdivisions or specifics. Witsuwit'en names are given In 
boldface type, and scientific names in italics. 


Most of the generics appear to correspond in their ranges to single biological 


species, but several may cover more than one scientific species (Figure 2). Of those 
generics whose range of reference is adequately known, 33 generics — 
monotypic genera in the local flora, and 24 generics represented single biologica 
species in polytypic g ( pecies of Rubus, Ribes, Vaccinium, Alnus, and Cornus 
in Table 1).° ts’o is an example of a generic which can refer to more than one 
species of a locally polytypic genus; it can refer to black spruce (?'1cea ma’ 

Britt., Sterns & Pogg.) as well as the more common 
spruce Picea engelmannii x glauca. Some groupings 
classification: ye# t’ats can refer to the shallow wa ee 
L. (in the Araceae) as well as the yellow pond lily Nuphar polysepalum Engelm. (in 
the Nymphaeaceae), a medicinal plant. The consu 
calla was a ‘baby water lily’. 


78 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


The only class which appears to be a polytypic generic with four named spe- 
cies is tl’oy ‘grass’. The terms for nodding onion, sedge, cattail and a species of 
grass are all hyponyms of tl’oy; i.e., tl’oy modified by a second term (see Figure 
2). 


There are two other examples of possible folk specifics which we tentatively 
treat as coordinate taxa (Hunn and French 1984) at the generic level. While the 
term for bunchberry (dani¢ yez, lit. ‘small kinnikinnik’) suggests that it is a species 
of danig ‘kinnikinnik’, we interpret these terms as two forms at the same level of 
classification with a relationship indicated by a diminutive, as has been reported 
in Sahaptin (Hunn and French 1984) and Slave (Rice 1989). No ltant described 
bunchberry — also called canig t’an (lit. ‘marten plant’) and Guzig mi? (lit. ‘gray 
jay berries’) — as a “kind of danig “ or suggested any special relationship between 
them, although speakers clearly know the literal meanings of such terms. Since 
we did not specifically elicit speakers’ views on such relationships, our interpreta- 
tion must be seen as tentative. Consider ts’o tsan ‘subalpine fir’ (Abies lasiocarpa 
[Hook.] Nutt.): Hargus has heard ts’o tsan spontaneously translated by its literal 
meaning ‘stinking, smelly spruce’, suggesting that subalpine fir might be treated 
as a type of ts’o ‘spruce’ (Picea spp.). However, no consultant indicated any rela- 
tionship between the two nor explained how ts’o tsan might differ from some 
“typical” ts’o. 

Although the 91 generics and specifics do not constitute a complete inventory 
of the flora known to the Witsuwit’en, they do exhibit the pattern reported for a 
number of other foraging peoples (Berlin 1992; Hunn and French 1984; Randall 
and Hunn 1984; Brown 1985) with around 2% polytypic generics. 

The majority of plants recognized and named by the Witsuwit’en are large, 
salient in the environment, and of ecological importance or utility. In order to pat- 
tially correct for the bias in the ethnobotanical fieldwork caused by the research 
focus on use of plants, during 1992 fieldwork Johnson-Gottesfeld attempted to 
elicit names of several plants that she had no indication were used by the 
Witsuwit’en. She was unable to obtain names for four plants, three of which are 
quite conspicuous and common. Two were flowering specimens of common herbs, 
Indian paintbrush (Castilleja miniata Dougl.) and a purple flowered aster (Aster 
?ciliolatus Lindl.), and the third was a branch of a very common shrub, pink spirea 
(Spiraea douglasii Hook. ssp. menziesii [Hook.] Calder & Taylor), with flowers and 
fruits.© Two elders commented that “in the old days” they would have had words 
for everything, including terms for the flowers, but they did not currently know 
any term for the aster and Indian paintbrush besides c’andec ‘flower’. 


Major Plant Classes or “Life Forms” —Broad groupings of plant classes in Witsuwit’en 
gas relatively difficult to identify without specialized elicitation sessions, aS folk 
generics are the terms commonly employed. We will here provisionally employ 
the term “life form” for broad groupings of Witsuwit’en plant types which J ohnson- 
Gottesfeld inferred during her field work (Table 2), although the groups we report 
here do not uniformly conform to the definitions of life form given by Berlin (1992), 
Atran (1985, 1990), or Brown (1977) in that they may be based in part on utilitaria® 
criteria, are not always mutually exclusive, and may be “empty,” that is, contain 
few or no named subordinate generics. This is similar to the situation described by 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 79 


TABLE 2.— Witsuwit’en Major Plant Classes or “Life Forms” 


Witsuwit’en Plant Class Approximate English Gloss Empty? 
dacon ‘tree’, large woody plant no 
c’ot’an ‘plant’, small shrubs and herbs no 
mi?, not’ay ‘berry’, shrubs or low plants with berries; no 


focused on edible fruits; not exclusive of 
dacon or c’at’an 
c’andec ‘flower’, herbs with conspicuous flowers yes 
?tl’oy ‘grass’, graminoid plants yes 
yin ‘moss’, including true mosses yes 
c’ebedzaq, c’ayebedzaq ‘mushroom’, fruiting bodies of fungi including yes 
‘mushrooms’ and bracket fungi 
Turner (1974, 1987) for several other Indian groups in British Columbia. The fol- 
lowing list of broad taxa of “life-form” rank, or major plant classes, must be 
considered preliminary until more detailed investigation is carried out. 

A class of large woody plants, dacan, is recognized. These include plants which 
have woody stems and vary from as tall as a person to forest canopy height. This 
includes both “trees” in the conventional English sense, and woody multiple- 
stemmed shrubs. dacan are utilized for firewood, construction, and carving. Their 
bark provides resources for dye, cordage and medicines. dacan also means ‘bush, 
forest, woods’ and ‘stick, wood(en), (deciduous) branch’. A common type of me- 
dicinal decoction of mixed barks is called dacan yu? ‘bush medicine’. 

Other major plant categories are less clearly defined. Smaller shrubs, large 
herbs (including at least one fern), and low growing herbaceous or semi-herba- 
ceous perennials can be referred to with the term c’ot’an ‘plant, leaf’ (as in xas 
t’an ‘fireweed plant’). Members of dacan cannot be referred to by this term. 
Fireweed, strawberries, thimbleberries, prickly rose bushes, and Indian hellebore 
are all c’at’an (c’9- unspecified possessor + t’an “bush, leaf ’). A rose bush, for 
example, would be referred to as tsef yil t’an (tse# yil ‘rosehip’ + t’an ‘bush, leaf). 
We infer that there is a plant class c’at’an which includes all such plants, although 
we have not attempted to elicit such a classification in the field. ; 

Herbs with conspicuous flowers are lumped together as ¢ ondec flower ,and 
are not usually subdivided by the modern Witsuwit’en. Forms with conspicuous 
flowers which have a use, however, are referred to by a specific name, such as red 
columbine (Aquilegia formosa Fisch.) lasuc (lit. ‘sugar’), or yarrow or 
millaefolium L.) ba?al yez woni (lit. ‘it has small conifer branches’). In ad ee 
several common flowering herbs which are not used do have names (see Table 1); 
whether these various individually named flowering herbs are seen as oe 
of ¢’andec was not investigated in the field. The term c’andec also = to the 
flower as a plant organ: “you don’t pick the leaves of lodi masgic [Labrador 6 
when the ¢’andec [flower] is on it.” ¢’andec as a “life form” then is a _ vo 
category or “empty” life form (Hunn 1982; Hunn and French — FF it rie 

The term for grass may also be applied at the “life-form level, and/or it may 
be an intermediate taxon or an unaffiliated folk generic with several folk pacts. 
If it is to be considered a “life form,” then it is a “monogeneric life form ps8 “8 
Atran 1985), in that it contains just one, or perhaps os a but a : ce oo 
distinctive morphology and special role in the local “economy o nature”, 


80 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


“empty life form” (sensu Turner 1987) in that it does not include a contrast set of 
named generics. Several different graminoid plants were shown to Witsuwit’en 
elders to elicit names. Red top (Agrostis tenuis), a true grass, was labeled tl’oy. 
Sedge (Carex sp.) was labeled tl’oy tel (lit. ‘wide grass’). A larger grass (as yet 
undetermined) was called tl’oy ladi? (lit. ‘grass tea’). The names of the large aquatic 
graminoid cattail (Typha latifolia L.) are tl’oy zi (lit. ‘large, dark grass’) and tl’oy 
c’azi¢,. Another plant which appears to be classed as a ‘grass’ is nodding onion 
(Allium cernuum Roth), called tl’oy hoftsan (lit. ‘stinking grass’). It has linear grass- 
like leaves, but is somewhat succulent, with showy flowers and a conspicuous 
smell. It is, incidentally, the only grass-like plant which was used by people for 
food. It can also be called c’at’an hattsan (lit. ‘stinking leaves’), indicating a mar- 
ginal position in tl’oy. A last possible ‘grass’ is lupine (Lupinus sp.), called dzat 
q’at tl’oy (lit. ‘grass on the mountain’), though its dissimilarity in habitus might 
suggest that it is ‘grass’ only in the very general sense of being non-woody. 

Horsetails (Equisetum spp.) may be marginally included in the ‘grass’ life form. 
Equisetum arvense L. was unnamed by one consultant, who said he guessed it could 
be called (in English) “grass.” Two other speakers consulted called it yay c’at’an 
(lit. ‘goose leaves’) or yay de? (lit. ‘goose food’). 

There is a sense that tl ’oy ‘grass’ may contain a connotation of uselessness, 
except for hay (and apparently ‘stinkgrass’, nodding onion). One elder contrasted 
a sedge specimen with other plants which had potential medicinal uses by saying 
“that’s just tl’oy ” (i.e., useless, neither a medicine nor harmful) (LJG interview 
notes 7/31/92). 

When directly asked what term she would use for “all the low growing green 
plants I showed you” (including several graminoid specimens, horsetail, aster, 
and yarrow), one elder answered q’ay noyex (lit. ‘new growth’). Johnson-Gottesfeld 
had just asked about the Witsuwit’en term for ‘tree’ and intended to inquire about 
a term for ‘herb’ (or the ‘grerb’ of Brown 1977) in contrast to ‘tree’. However, since 
we never encountered such a term or concept spontaneously, we are hesitant to 
a that this term can be accepted as a general ‘herb’ life form concept or 

erm. 

Evidence for ‘berry’ (mi? or nat’ay)’ asa “life form” or major plant category is 
suggested by the spontaneous listings in interviews of a number of plants which 
bear edible berries. Such forms include trees or large shrubs, smaller shrubs, and 
Perennials which grow low to the ground (including the succulent Sedum divergens 
Wats. whose leaves are classed as a berry). As Turner (1987) found in her Thomp- 
son and Lillooet material, this classification cross-cuts other “life form” classes in 
that some members are doubly categorized (see Table 3). For example, saskatoons 
were listed spontaneously as dacan (large woody plants) as well as mi? (berries). 
This may be because saskatoons were formerly prized for their hard straight wood 
for arrow shafts, an important pre-contact trade item, as well as being one of the 
most important berries for food. For other berries, such as rose hips, strawberries, 
or thimbleberries, when the focus is on the plant, as opposed to the fruit, they are 
referred to as c’at’an. 

In addition, some forms of conspicuous berry bearing plants are perhaps only 
peripherally categorized as ‘berries’ because the fruit is not edible. Examples in- 
clude black twinberry (Lonicera involucrata [Rich.] Banks) and common snowberry 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 81 
TABLE 3.— Witsuwit’en ‘Berries’ 
Scientific Name (English name) Witsuwit’en Name Other 
“Life 
Form”* 

Amelanchier alnifolia (saskatoon) tayox dacan 
Arctostaphylos uva-ursi (kinnikinnik) donig 
Cornus canadensis (bunchberry) donig yez,cani¢ t’an —_c’ot’an 
Crataegus douglasii? (thornberry’) xwoas mi? 
Fragaria virginiana (wild strawberry) yan tadalq’o’n c’ot’an 
Lonicera involucrata (‘bearberry’#, black twinberry) sas mi dacan 
Prunus pensylvanica (‘wild red cherry’, pin cherry) snow dacon 
Prunus pensylvanica ? (‘wild cherry’, bird cherry?) — smits’oq dacon 
Pyrus fusca (Pacific crabapple) moalqs dacan 
Ribes lacustre? (swamp gooseberry) dalkw’ax mi? 
Ribes oxyacanthoides (northern gooseberry) c’andewazgi 
Ribes triste? (‘wild red currant’) q’ay datagi 
Rosa acicularis (prickly rose) tset yil c’ot’an 
Rubus idaeus (red raspberry) bayotcokw 
Rubus parviflorus (thimbleberry) doq dingay,misq’o? _c’at’an 
Rubus spectabilis (salmonberry) (red elderberry) mascole’n 
Sedum divergens (‘stoneberry’, stonecrop) tse mi? 
Shepherdia canadensis (soapberry nawas 
Smilacina racemosa (‘dog penis berry’s, tac tsokw mi? 

“sugarberry,” false Solomon’s seal berries) 
Symphoricarpos albus (grouseberry’#, common c’atsot mi? dacan 

snowberry) : 
Vaccinium caespitosum (‘low bush blueberry’) yantami? 
Vaccinium membranaceum (black huckleberry) i 
Vaccinium ovalifolium (‘highbush blueberry’, dindze 

oval-leaved blueberry) 
Vaccinium oxycoccus (bog cranberry) mio 

tsattse 


Viburnum edule (highbush cranberry) 


* other “life form” listed only where the use of the “life form” term with the berry name 


has been recorded; this information was not specifically elicited in the field 


# marginal members of mi? or perhaps contrasted with true mi? by animal er have 
fruits which are considered inedible with stems which are used for medicinal bar 


collection 


- : ; i : or i itals in 
* an edible species with an animal anatomic name; said to resemble a dog’s gen 


1 
appearance 


(Symphoricarpos albus [L.] Blake). These plants, discussed in more detail epoca 
appear to be peripheral to the mi? /nat’ay category, and are classed primarily 
dacon. 


Two “empty” life forms round out the classification of plants (sensu lato) by 
the Witeccarven' These are yin ‘moss’ and c’ayebedzaq or c’ebedzaq fungus (here- 
after referred to as c’ebedzaq). Moss was collected for diapers, and this rah is 
called yin yal (lit. ‘white moss’) or yan tl’ax yal (lit. ‘white under ground’). I ; 
Preferred moss is pale in color and very long. At times several “feather mosses” © 


82 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


the forest floor may be used, although a very pale type of sphagnum moss (Sphag- 
num magellanicum Brid.), which grows in swamps (Johnson-Gottesfeld and Vitt 
1996) is generally considered to be the real diaper moss. This sphagnum appears 
to be the prototype of the “life form.” The term ¢’ebedzagq, which may contain the 
root dzag ‘outer ear’, refers to both mushrooms and bracket fungi. Cinder conk, a 
bracket fungus of unusual form (Inonotus obliquus [Pers.: Fr.] Pilat), is called tl’e 
tse or dgc’ac’asts’o?. Whether this is considered a type of c’ebedzagq is not clear. 

In common with other Northwest Coast groups, the set of major plant classes 
or “life forms” proposed for the Witsuwit’en is not congruent with the set of “ubiq- 
uitously occurring life forms” analyzed by Cecil Brown (1977, 1984). Vines, for 
example, are rare in northwestern North America, and are not particularly salient 
nor taxonomically diverse, whereas mosses, lichens and fungi are conspicuous, 
varied and abundant. Unsurprisingly, vine is not recognized as a life form by groups 
in this geographic region (Turner 1987), whereas empty classes denoting “moss” 
and “mushroom” are found among the Gitksan® and may be characteristic of other 
groups in similar climatic regimes (Turner 1987:77).? Clément (1990) describes a 
broad Montagnais bryoid taxon with numerous named types from the boreal for- 
est region of northeastern North America. Atran (1985, 1990) recognizes that life 
forms have ecological relevance, and indeed are still retained in scientific ecology. 
He comments that life forms occupy distinctive roles in “the economy of nature.” 

In addition, characters other than morphology or plant habitus seem to be 
factors in generating broad groupings of plants, as will be discussed below under 
utilitarian factors. A “berry” taxon is reported by Turner (1987:72) for a number of 
northwest North American Native languages, by Randall and Hunn (1984:340) for 
the Sahaptin, by Compton (1993) for Southern Tsimshian, as well as for the 
Witsuwit’en and the Gitksan (Johnson 1997). Clément (1990) also reports a similar 
edible fruit taxon for the Montagnais. The prominence of berry bearing plants and 
their economic and cultural importance should perhaps not make it surprising 
that they should be recognized as a “life form” by various cultures of northwest- 
ern and northern North America. 

The phenomenon of “empty” life forms subsuming less salient or utilized non- 
woody vegetation seems to be common to various northwest and northern North 
American groups. A “flower” class is reported by Clément (1990) for the 
Montagnais, and Johnson (1997), Turner (1987), Hunn (1982), and Randall and 
Hunn (1984) have recorded the presence of such a group for various northwest 
North American groups. “Grass” is similarly a class which is commonly recog” 
nized, but usually not extensively subdivided among many non-grain growing 
peoples, including the Lillooet of British Columbia (Turner 1987) and the Ka’apor 
of Brazil (Balée 1989). 


Intermediates. — Without detailed systematic investigation of Witsuwit’en plant 

classification, the existence of intermediate plant groupings cannot be discus 

se a etail. Several possible intermediates may be present in Witsuwit’en plant clas- 

sification (Figure 3). Some of these postulated intermediates are lexically labeled, 

while others are covert. Prickly plants or “thistles”, xwas or kwas (hereafter xwas), 

np spoken of as a group. These include devil’s club (Oplopanax horridum [Smith 
'q.), the prototype xwasco (or simply xwas), prickly rose (Rosa acicularis Lindl.), 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 83 


stinging nettle (Urtica dioica L.), the introduced weedy Canada thistle (Cirsium 
arvense [L.] Scop.), and perhaps xwas mi?, tentatively identified as Crataegus 
douglasii Lindl. “We call all those thistles, rosebush, and so on, they’re all xwas” 
(LJG interview notes 10/29/86). These plants are referred to in conversation as 
types of xwas: 


“the xwas with the pink flower...tse# yil” [prickly rose] 

“there is a xwas that makes you itch. It’s a green ‘grass’ on the hillside” [in 
reference to hotts’ec ‘stinging nettles’]. (LJG interview notes 10/14/87) 
tl’oy ‘grass’, discussed above, may be an intermediate taxon rather than a 


“life form.” We have here diagrammed it (Figure 3) as including tl’oy , the focal 
generic, as well as xax c’at’an ‘horsetail’ as a second generic. 


"xwos' 


FIGURE 3. — Three Witsuwit’en intermediates, showing constituent generics ag 
Scientific species. The “thistle” and “grass” groups are overtly labeled - ace wed 
while “willows” appears to be covert. The outline of the intermediate is shown in gray, 
While the included generics are shown with a black outline. The prototype © 
intermediate is indicated by a solid black circle. Other scienti ee 
with hollow circles. Witsuwit’en names are given in boldface type, and scien 
in italics. 


84 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


A third potential intermediate is ‘willow’. The English terms ‘alder’ and ‘wil- 
low’ may be used interchangeably by Witsuwit’en speakers to refer to species of 
Alnus and Salix, suggesting that they are perceived as similar. Witsuwit’en speak- 
ers take care to distinguish several shrubs with generally similar ecological habitats 
and habit, including alders (Alnus incana [L.] Moench and A. crispa [Ait.] Pursh), 
willows (Salix spp.), “red willow” or red-osier dogwood (Cornus stolonifera Michx.) 
and perhaps mountain ash (Sorbus scopulina Greene). The ‘willow’ intermediate 
may be a functional grouping in that all of these shrubs of similar stature are uti- 
lized for bark resources in the dormant season when they are leafless. As their 
properties and uses are not interchangeable, it is necessary to carefully observe 
and contrast their stem and bark characters to avoid collecting the wrong type of 
bark. Alder (Alnus incana) q’as is distinguished by its inner bark which turns red 
when peeled (and was used as a dye); ‘mountain alder’ (Alnus crispa) waze inner 
bark does not turn red. It is noteworthy primarily for the difficulty of walking 
through thickets of it on the mountainside. Willow (Salix spp., q’endlig ) inner 
bark q’eltay remains white and is strong (it was used for cordage). When red-osier 
(Cornus stolonifera) is discussed for medicine, it is generally referred to as qaq 
dalq’a’n (lit. ‘red surface’). Some speakers also refer to red-osier as q ’entsec, simi- 
lar to the term for willow, or q’endlig, when discussing its use in basketry. One 
elder also took care to contrast mountain ash (Sorbus scopulina) from ‘willow’ (L-e., 
Salix spp.) by bark characters. This is another plant whose bark is medicinal. It 
— from ‘willow’ by the glossiness of the bark and by its strong, distinctive 
smell. 

Other possible intermediate groupings include a ‘kinnikinnik and relatives’ 
group, containing kinnikinnik, danig, and bunchberry, dani¢ yez, and possibly 
‘wintergreens’ (Pyrola spp., Orthilia [Pyrola] secunda [L.] House, and Chimaphila 
umbellata [L.] Barton). These are relatively similar low growing ground plants which 
retain green leaves all year, though they contrast in that only the first two produce 
edible fruits. As discussed above, at least bunchberry seems to be named in coor- 
dinate fashion to kinnikinnik, and Kari (1978) suggests that a species of Pyrola (not 
determined) is also called danig yez. 

Two other intermediates were spontaneously mentioned by one consultant, 
who was describing which flowering herbs were designated by the terms ditnic 
kwo’n and tac tsakw mi?. Andy George (SH interview notes 6/96) mused that 
ditnic kwa’n really named a whole “family” of flowering herbs, not just dandelion 
and heart-leaved arnica. For this speaker, the prototype of the group was “sul 
flower” (probably heart-leaved arnica): “sunflower is the real one.” The secon 
grouping included Smilacina racemosa (L.) Desf. and other similar herbs in the lily 
family which produce similar appearing berries “Lily-of-the-valley too, eh. As long 
as they’re in that family.” This appears to be a metaphoric expression of group 
membership in English, rather than a translation of a common Witsuwit’en $ 
form. The use of the term “family” or other terms for kin relationships has not 
been observed in Witsuwit’en discussion of plant names, although yeZ, ‘rittles 
woman's child’ is used to indicate affiliation as discussed above. - 

The last proposed intermediate is a possible “poisonous plants” grouping: f 
Two plants were spontaneously volunteered as poisonous after a discussion © 
some medicinal plants and Labrador tea: dani zic Gus (lit. ‘corpse’s COW parsnip 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 85 


(Delphinium glauca S. Wats.) and wanyeni co or honyeni co (lit. ‘big killer’), This 
may be water hemlock (Cicuta douglasii [DC.] Coult.& Rose). Water hemlock is 
known locally for livestock poisoning. The Indian hellebore plant, qunye, is al- 
ways mentioned as poisonous as well, and might be affiliated with such a grouping. 

More systematic data collection would clarify the existence and membership 
of these and other intermediate groups among the Witsuwit’en. The Witsuwit’en 
intermediate taxa proposed in the present study are based on similar habitus, pos- 
session of spines or stinging hairs, and possibly on recognition of human and animal 
toxicity. Data from Turner (1989) suggests that there might be a number of such 
intermediate plant groupings, which would serve to order the plant domain for 
Witsuwit’en native speakers, as the groupings she has documented do for a vari- 
ety of other Native groups in British Columbia. 

Turner (1989) finds evidence of a large number of intermediate plant group- 
ings based on a variety of morphological and utilitarian criteria. A ‘spiny’ group is 
reported by Turner (1989), Turner et al. (1983) for the Nitinaht, Lillooet, and 
Chilcotin, other British Columbia Native groups. The Chilcotin use a cognate (kwes) 
of the Witsuwit’en term xwas to designate this group, which for the Chilcotin in- 
cludes a species of prickly pear (Opuntia) but does not include devil’s club (Turner 
1989:98). Turner (1989:76) has also found evidence of a kinnikinnik and relatives 
grouping among the Thompson, which included kinnikinnik, wintergreens, false 
box, and twinflower. The Gitksan also seem to have such a group: the term for 
kinnikinnik is sgantimi’yt,!! while prince’s pine (Chimaphila umbellata), a relative 
of the wintergreens, and false box are both called hissgantimi yt (lit. ‘resembling 
kinnikinnik’) (Johnson 1997). 


LINGUISTIC ANALYSIS OF WITSUWIT’EN PLANT TERMS 


Our linguistic analysis is based on a corpus of 108 distinct Witsuwit’en names 
for life forms, intermediates and folk generics.'? The following types of words are 
found among this portion of the Witsuwit’en lexicon: nominal roots, prefixed nga 
nal roots, noun compounds, deverbal nouns, other noun phrases, loans, an 
unanalyzable polysyllables. Many Witsuwit’en plant terms have a literal — 
(or “descriptive force,” Hunn 1996) in addition to reference to a particular plant or 
plant group. Such plant names may describe appearance, scent, uses, OF proper- 
ties of the plant, or make metaphoric allusion to body parts or secretions. sgt 

According to Berlin (1992, Berlin et al. 1973), a generic 1s usually —s — 
guistically by a single morpheme (a simple primary lexeme, 1.e., one ee . si 
analyzable, e.g., ‘pine’ or ‘maple’. In our corpus, the majority, that is, 50 , 
form” terms are either phemi inal roots (e.g., yin ag anangmtanl 
or prefixed roots (e.g., docan ‘large woody plant’, < da- ‘wooden’ + etn f, 
handle, frame’; c’at’an ‘plant, leaf’, < c’a- unspecified sais scant dounrie ie 
Our clearest intermediate term, xwas ‘spiny plant’, is also a monomorphemic no “i 
nal root. However, Berlin’s prediction is false for the Witsuwit en folk sete eae 
Our corpus: only 15 of the 99 folk generi ee ties ora n 
roots (n = 9) (e.g., ts’o ‘spruce’) or prefixed nominal roots (n = 6) (e.g, 

‘spiny woodfern’).13 
Compounds form the largest subclass of analyzable, 


non-loan plant terms (24 


86 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


of 108 in the total corpus; 24 of 99 folk generics). Compounds are not employed 
above the folk-generic level of classification. Examples include tsalac qekwa’n 
‘beaked hazelnut’ (lit. ‘squirrel’s box’), dani zic Gus ‘tall larkspur’ (lit. ‘corpse's 
cow parsnip’), and tset yil ‘prickly rose’ (lit. ‘ax pack’). The next largest classes in 
our corpus (16 of 108 terms) are deverbal nouns (i.e., nouns derived from verb 
phrases) and other types of noun phrases (16 of 108 terms). All but one of the 
deverbal terms are folk generics (e.g., gaq dalq’a’n ‘red osier’, lit. ‘surface is red’); 
among the life forms, only nat’ay ‘berry’, lit. ‘it is ripening’, is deverbal. Non- 
deverbal noun je I dified either by (a) a prenominal postpositional 
phrase (n =3,e.g., dzat q’at tl’oy ‘lupine’: dzat ‘mountain,’ q’at ‘on’, tl’oy ‘grass’), 
(b) a postnominal adjective (n = 10, e.g., ts’o tsan ‘balsam’: ts’o ‘spruce’, tsan 
‘smelly’), or (c) what we have tentatively identified as a prenominal adverb (n= 2, 
e.g., dax ye “black tree moss”: dax ‘above’, ye ‘hair’). 

Fourteen of the 108 plant terms in our corpus are unanalyzable polysyllables; 
e.g., tsattse ‘high bush cranberry’, c’agu ‘white lichen’, qunye ‘Indian hellebore’. 
While a few of these may have one or more identifiable morphemes (e.g., C92 — 
‘wood, handle, frame’, as in candu ‘lodgepole pine’), it is not possible to provide a 
literal translation or morphological analysis of these terms at this time. Such terms 
are possibly originally deverbal; alternatively, they could be loans from other lan- 
guages. 

The majority of plant terms in our corpus (62 of 108 terms; 61 of 99 folk gener- 
ics) have a literal meaning (descriptive force) in addition to referring to a member 
of the plant classes we have identified. These literal meanings are either ‘descrip- 
tive’, naming some characteristic shape, smell, color, location, or other property, 
or ‘functional’, referring to a use of the plant. Some plants are also named in a 
metaphoric manner or by allusion to animals. Nearly all plant terms with literal 
meanings are found at the folk generic level, the sole exception being the deverbal 
life form nat’ay ‘berry’ (lit. ‘it is ripening’). 

Two monomorphemic folk generic terms are polysemous, describing pee 
aspect of the appearance of the plant: ts’ax ‘hat’, ‘mountain juniper’; fayax to 
gether ’, ‘saskatoon’ (the berries grow in clusters). Most noun phrase generics are 
descriptive: e.g., noun + adjective, tl’oy tel ‘sedge’ (lit. ‘wide grass’); noun + adjec- 
i xwas co ‘devil’s club’ (lit. ‘big thorns’); postpositional phrase + noun, yentom ? 
low bush blueberry’ (lit. ‘berry among the land’). Deverbal descriptive terms In- 
clude hotts’ec ‘nettles’ (lit. ‘it stings’), wale yinat’ag ‘Canada thistle’ (lit. “it sneaks 
into hands’), yan tadalq’a’n ‘strawberry’ (lit. ‘red among the land’), ba?al yez wan! 
ow (lit. ‘it has little conifer branches’), and dacan hottsan ‘mountain ash’ (lit. 
stinking wood’) (Mountain ash has a very characteristic bitter almond odor when 
the bark is cut). 

Some descriptive plant terms refer metaphorically to body parts, corpses, 0! 
bodily secretions: day ye ‘black tree moss’ (lit. ‘hair above’), ts’alto mi? ‘rosy sede: 
stalk’ (lit. ‘tears berry’), dani zic cac’ascakw ‘puffball’ (lit. ‘corpse’s navel ~ 
tsokw mi? ‘false Solomons seal’ (lit. ‘dog penis berry’), colqe yiz ‘mountain lady 
slipper’ (lit. ‘boy’s testicles’) (in allusion to the bulbous sac-like form of the flow: 
ers), tsa dzaq'* ‘wintergreen, single delight’ (lit. ‘beaver ear’) (in reference to the 
shape of the leaf). Folk generics which seem to be named more for function 
for some inherent characteristic include deverbal halq’at ban (lit. ‘swelling Pr 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 87 


ventative’), as well as the polysemous roots ?a¢ (can) ‘Douglas maple’ (lit. ‘snow- 
shoe (wood)’) and ts’ay ‘boat’, ‘cottonwood’. 

Plant names which allude to animals suggest associations of the animal to the 
plant, ecologically or as food, or types of metaphoric association; e.g., beaked ha- 
zelnut, tsalac qgekwo’n (lit. ‘squirrel’s box’). (Red squirrels [Tamiasciurus hudsonicus] 
harvest large quantities of hazelnuts and store them for winter provisions.) Simi- 
larly, the name for yellow pond lily leaves, dalkw’ax ne#dac (lit. ‘frog blanket’), 
indicates an ecological association with wetland habitat, and horsetail, yay de? 
(lit. “goose food’), alludes to an ecological and trophic association with geese. Other 
plant names which incorporate animal names may do so to indicate the non-ed- 
ibility or medicinal properties of plants so named. Examples include sas mi? ‘black 
twinberry’ (lit. ‘black bear’s berry’) and c’atsat mi?’snowberry’ (lit. ‘ruffed grouse’s 
berry’), both berry bearing shrubs whose fruits are not eaten, but whose bark is 
used for medicine, and detsan qe gat (lit. ‘crow’s old shoe’) or detsan ?al (lit. ‘crow’s 
conifer needles’) ‘common juniper’, an important medicinal plant.'° Other names 
of this general form are applied to berries which are not important food sources 
(and may be considered inedible); e.g., dalkw’ax mi? ‘wild black currant’ (lit. ‘frog’s 
berry’), not locally considered edible; ‘bunchberry’ canig mi? (lit. ‘fisher’s berry’) / 
Guzig mi? (lit. ‘gray jay’s berry’).!° Another way of indicating inedibility may be 
by association with corpses: tall larkspur is dani zic Gus (lit. ‘corpse’s cow pars- 
nip’); this is one of the plants specifically mentioned as poisonous and which is 
not to be eaten or used for medicine. 

Seventeen of the 108 plant names in our corpus are analyzed as loanwords 
from other languages. Source languages include Gitksan, Carrier, Cree, and French. 
Roughly two thirds of these loans (12 of 17) are borrowed from Gitksan, a 
Tsimshianic language spoken i iately north and west of the Witsuwit’en. Three 
plant names are very likely borrowed from Carrier, an Athapaskan language spo- 
ken to the south and east of Witsuwit’en. The remaining 2 loans come from French 
and Cree. 

Speakers of Gitksan and Witsuwit’en have had long contact (Rigsby and Kari 
1987, Mills 1994) . For many of the plant names which are shared by Witsuwiten 
and Gitksan (Table 4), linguistic and/or biogeographic reasons can be given for 
positing a direction of borrowing. However, for other names, the language of ori- 
gin is not immediately obvious. Witsuwit’en plant terms for cedar/ cedar bark, 
fireweed, berry (in general), crabapple, a variant term for subalpine fir, and possi- 
bly hemlock/hemlock cambium are Gitksan in origin.!” The names for red cedar 
(somGan) and cedar bark (het’al), and perhaps the uses as well, were most likely 
learned from the Gitksan. Red cedar does not grow in areas occupied by Athapaskan 
speakers except for the now extinct Tsetsaut and the northwestern corner of the 
territory of the Witsuwit’en, while it is very abundant in the territory occupied by 
Tsimshianic speakers, including the Gitksan. Gan is the standard term for wood, 
tree’ in Gitksan, Nisga’a, and Coast Tsimshian, while in Witsuwit’en this term oc- 
curs only in somaon ‘red cedar’ (<Gitksan sim gan) and in the personal name to? 
°mGan (Gitksan morphemes translated as ‘timber avalanche’). (As noted above, 
docan is the usual Witsuwit’en term for ‘wood, stick, tree’.) 

The terms for ‘fireweed’ in Gitksan (haast), Witsuwit’en (yas t’an), and Car- 
rier (xas) all have a phonological similarity which is not likely due to chance. The 


88 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS 


Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 4.— Witsuwit’en Botanical Terms Shared with Gitksan 


Latin Name (English Name) 

Abies lasiocarpa (subalpine fir) 

Apocynum androsimaefolium (spreading dogbane) 

Aralia nudicaulis (wild sarsaparilla) 

Epilobium angustifolium (fireweed) 

krumholz forms of Abies lasiocarpa and perhaps 
Tsuga mertensiana / Juniperus communis 
(“mountain juniper” / common juniper) 

Lycopodium selago ? (fir clubmoss) 

Nuphar polysepalum (yellow pond lily) 

Prunus pensylvanica (‘red wild cherry’) 

Prunus pensylvanica / Prunus virginiana 
(bird cherry / chokecherry) 

Pyrus fusca (Pacific crabapple) 

Sambucus racemosa (red elderberry) 

Thuja plicata (western redcedar) 

Vaccinium oxycoccus (bog cranberry) 

cedar, cedar bark / cedar bark 

pine cambium 


Witsuwit’en Name Gitksan Name 


ho?ogs ho’oxs 

ex sganlekx 
sconistl’es ° 

as haast 
ts’ax ts’eex 
hatac xaadax 
xet t’ats gahldaats 
snow snaw 
smits’oq mi ts’ook 
malqs Iks 

uts sganloots’ 
somoGon sim gan 
mi?o mi’oot 
het’al hat’a’l 
q’ani¢ gan hix, ganix 


Botanical nomenclature after Hulten (1968). 


# Term from Jenness (1943); reelicited 1996 by S. Hargus 
* Term not collected in Gitksan, but Witsuwit’en consultant stated the term to be in the 


a 
é 


Gottesfeld for Aralia nudicaulis. 


Hazelton language” (field notes, July 1992) (the root sgan is a Gitksan term meaning 
lant’). An unrelated Gitksan term maa’ytwhl smex has been recorded by Johnson- 


Gitksan term has cognates in other Tsimshianic languages (Nisga’a, Tsimshian 
haast) whereas the names in Sekani (kahgus, kahgos, and Dena’ina (nitdghulig1, 
tl’ik’ desq’a, ts’ik’ desq’a, ch’deshtleq’a) are completely different from the 


Witsuwit’en, suggesting that the Witsuwit’en and Carrier terms originate 


Tsimshianic languages. 


in the 


In Witsuwit’en there are two words for ‘berry’, mi? and nat’ay (lit. ‘it’s ripen” 


ing’). not’ay is less common as the spontaneous translation of ‘berry , 
alone is used in proper nouns (berry names). Central Carrier als 


and ml 


word, mai, for ‘berry’. Apparently, both Witsuwit’en and Carrier terms be * 
rowed from Gitksan maa’y, cognates of which are also used in Nisga‘a an 


Tsimshian. 


Witsuwit’en masdzu ‘hemlock cambium’ appears to be deriv 


ed from the 


Gitksan terms maas ‘bark’ and xsuu’u ‘hemlock cambium’. All Witsuwit'en speakers 


who discussed hemlock ‘cambium’ as a food mentioned that it was learne 
or obtained in trade from Gitksan or Tsimshian people, and one elder stat 


the name mosdzu was from Gitksan. 


Like other Canadian Athapaskan languages, there are numerou 


ed that 


s loan nouns 


from French into Witsuwit’en in non-plant names. Only two such loans occur 


plant names. Labrador tea ladi masgic is a compound consisting of twol 


oan words: 


French le t+ ‘the tea’ and Cree maske:k ‘swamp, muskeg’ (Ellis 1983). This suger 
that its use as a beverage may have been learned from early French and M+tis 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 89 


traders, possibly through the Babines or Stuart Lake Carrier. The Witsuwit’en name 
for Aguilegia formosa (red columbine) is lasuc (<French le sucre, ‘sugar’); lasuc also 
means ‘sugar’ and is therefore polysemous in Witsuwit’en. 

While linguists agree that Carrier and Witsuwit’en are separate Athapaskan 
languages, exactly how closely related they are is a matter of debate. Story (1984) 
groups Witsuwit’en and Carrier into an Athapaskan subfamily, Babine-Carrier, of 
relatively shallow time depth (approximately 300 years.). On the other hand, Kari 
and Hargus (1989) view Witsuwit’en and Carrier as no more closely related than 
other adjacent northern Athapaskan languages spoken in the interior of Alaska 
(which are known to have been neighbors for considerably more than 300 years). 
Of the 108 plant terms in our corpus, 31 are shared with Carrier. The phonological 
similarity of these shared terms could be due either to borrowing or to inheritance 
from a common ancestor, either Proto-Athapaskan or a more immediate ancestor. 
Nine of these shared terms have widespread cognates in the Athapaskan family 
and are clearly inherited from Proto-Athapaskan (PA); e.g., ‘alder’ (Witsuwit’en 
q’as, Carrier k’as), ‘spruce’ (W. ts’o, Carrier ts’u), and ‘kinnikinnik’ (danig in both 
languages). Fifteen of the 31 shared terms have at least one morpheme that can be 
reconstructed for PA. With some terms, Carrier and Witsuwet’en have undergone 
the same semantic shift, e.g., PA *dage ‘berry’ > W. dagi ‘black huckleberry’, C. 
daje ‘huckleberry’; PA*da’n(a), *da’n (9) ‘spring season’ > W. xox de?, C. xohdai? 
‘horsetail’ (species). The remaining seven of 31 plant terms shared with Carrier 
are of uncertain etymology: e.g., ‘highbush cranberry’ W. tsaftse, BE tsattse tson. 
We hypothesize that three of the latter set are borrowings from Carrier into 
Witsuwit’en: ‘juniper’ detsan ?angat, cf.C. datsan ?angat; W. ‘cattail’ tl’oy c’azig¢, 
cf. C. tl’oyazit; ‘red-osier dogwood’; W. q’entsec, cf. C. k’ents1, since these plants 
are all known in Witsuwit’en by more than one name (see below and Table 1). 
However, we suspect that more than these three terms shared by Witsuwit'en and 
Carrier are loans from one language into the other. The matter requires a survey of 
other Athapaskan and non-Athapaskan languages in the area. 

Nine generics were labeled by more than one term. Some of these we consider 
true synonyms, as they were consistently referred to by more than one name by 
the same speaker, e.g., red-osier dogwood (two distinct terms and several variants 
of the first term), mountain-ash (four terms encountered), bunchberry (three terms 
collected), and cinder conk (two unrelated terms used). A variation in naming 
which can be used for contrast is shown for devil’s club, which is usually referred 
to as xwas, the unmarked prototype of the “xwas” class, but can be eager 
as Xwasco (lit. ‘big thorn’). Other terms appear to reflect idiolectal saigeaete wit 
only one term used per speaker, e.g., ‘mountain lady slipper daltse yil, calge y1z, 
‘cattail’ tl’oy zi, tl’oy c’azig. 


COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS 


Changes in lifestyle and language retention may affect the — = goon 
cal lexicon and knowledge of the indigenous classification system (Ber : . 
Waddy 1982). The strong bias toward economic plants, and the poor tee pi = 
non-economic plants evident in Johnson-Gottesfeld’s research is proba y - a 28 
of these factors, as well as a consequence of her research emphasis on pian 


90 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


resources. Hargus’s linguistic research has increased the proportion of names for 
unutilized plants in our corpus. 

The degree to which this emphasis on naming and classification of plants of 
potential utility would have been present in the aboriginal system prior to contact 
cannot be determined at this point. Johnson-Gottesfeld has found that among the 
Gitksan — neighbors to the north and west of the Witsuwit’en with similarities in 
environment, culture, and history — only those plants of high salience and eco- 
logical importance or utility tend to be named. The Gitksan also underdifferentiate 
groups like mosses, fungi, and graminoids, subsuming them in classes which may 
be analyzed as “empty life forms.” Likewise, Sahaptin (Hunn 1982) and Chewa 
(Morris 1984) fail to recognize or name many species which are not utilized or 
otherwise salient. 


Relationship of “Life Forms” to Partonomy. — Clément (1995) has analyzed life forms — 
for the Montagnais in terms of ‘partons’ (plant organs) which are in turn related to 
utilitarian factors. Such a life form will contain a core of plants with the diagnostic 
parton and others related by prototype-extension to this core. The Montagnais life 
form ‘tree’ (mishtukuat) is designated by the same term as ‘wood’ (except that 
‘tree’ is animate and ‘wood’ inanimate in gender). ‘Tall shrubs’ ( shakua) are woody 
plants which possess ‘double bark’, useful in medicine; eight of 12 forms so classed 
have this ‘double bark’, an outer bark layer and an inner layer, often considered to 
be medicinally efficacious. Members of the small shrub class (atishfa) typically 
possess edible fruits. Low herbs (mashkushua) include a subgroup called ‘leaves’ 
(n§pfsha), which have leaves useful for medicinal purposes, and another sub- 
group called ‘root’ (ushKtipf),with medicinal roots. (The remainder of this 
heterogeneous class is considered to be residual.) 

Witsuwit’en “life forms” can also be analyzed in terms of relationship of diag 
nostic and useful partons. dacan implies both woodiness and medicinal properties 
of the bark. mi?/nat’ay ‘berry’ is roughly equivalent to the small shrub class of the 
Montagnais, except that it is cross-cutting for the Witsuwit’en, overlapping both 
daconand c’at’an. c’at’an could be said to be named with reference to partonymy 
also, as this term can be glossed ‘leaf’ as well as ‘plant’. However, this Witsuwit’en 
grouping lacks a strong utilitarian component. The empty class ¢’andec ‘flower’ 1s 
obviously conceived with reference to the plant parton ‘flower’; for the Witsuwit’en 
it is negatively associated with utility and is clearly a residual class. 


Utilitarian Factors. — Brown (1977, 1985, 1995), Berlin (1992, Berlin et al. 1973), and 
Atran (1985, 1990) consistently argue for divorcing ethnobiological taxonomy from 
utilitarian characteristics of biological species. They argue instead that “general 
purpose” (more or less purely morphological or perceptually based classifications 
of biota) taxonomies can be meaningfully elucidated in human cultures a6 sepa 
rate from various “special purpose” classifications based on the use of species for 
food, medicine, or in symbolic systems. Others argue that though “general pur- 
pose” taxonomies may be elicited, they may not reflect what is most culturally 
relevant or significant (Randall 1976, 1987; Morris 1984; Hunn 1982). 


.. although we can accept that there is no necessary one-to-one relationship 
between utility and nomenclature, nevertheless it is important to recognize 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 91 


that functional criteria are intrinsically linked to taxonomic ordering. As I 
have tried to indicate above, many Chewa life-form categories cannot be 
understood in purely morphological terms, and functional categories ... 
also have a taxonomic relevance.... a true understanding of the nature of 
folk classifications, both in a culturally specific context and in terms of the 
evolution — the ‘encoding sequence’ — of life form categories, demands 
that we incorporate into the analysis functional criteria. As anthropologists 
we should be concerned with systematically exploring the relationship be- 
tween folk classifications and other aspects of cultural life. To view folk 
taxonomies simply as taxonomies, abstracted from utilitarian, ecological 
and cultural concerns, limits our understanding of how human groups re- 
lated [sic] to the natural world (Morris 1984:58-59). 


...Brown arbitrarily restricts his [life form] analysis to a small set of folk 
biological concepts prejudged to be universal... Consequently, we are left 
inig f the welter of utilitarian and ecologically defined suprageneric 
taxa which most peoples rely on to organize their knowledge of the natural 
world.... Sahaptin conversation is full of reference to such general classes 
of plants as xnit ‘foods which are dug’ and tmaanit ‘foods which are picked’ 
(Hunn 1982:839). 


The argument has involved both the presumed actual structures involved in 
storage and retrieval of relevant information regarding plant identity, and issues 
such as what is legitimately a taxonomy (cf. Wierzbicka 1984) versus other types 
of classification. Issues such as transitivity (Waddy 1982; Randall 1976, 1987) and 
whether classification of “living kinds” differs in fundamental ways from that of 
cultural artifacts (Atran 1985, 1990) are central: 


This intrusion of practical considerations into the referential meaning of 


life forms is also anomalous from the taxonomic perspective in that it di- 
vides species that exhibit strong morphological resemblances while uniting 
others that are morphologically dissimilar (Hunn 1982:838). 


Berlin suggests that a life-form generally contains a fairly large number of 
named subdivisions. However, the internal differentiation of a taxon may 
not correlate with the salience that taxon has in local thinking... 
A second difficulty with the concept of “life form” is that etree ek che. 
categories of this general order do not in fact coincide neatly wit lh ti 
ously distinctive groups of fauna or flora.... Here the pe ieee na ie 
terms applied in many languages to certain taxa which wou eee BF 
constitute legitimate “life forms”...suggests that tere eg d culi- 
as much by cultural evaluation (technological utilization, maseai fee ical 
nary status, economic and ritual significance) as by their objective Diolog! 
characteristics (Bulmer 1974:23). 
Atran (1990) suggests that children spontaneously ee enor 
cepts — including life forms and folk generics — by an ire otiol cal classi- 
regardless of the potential uses of plants and animals. — 


92 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


fication is fundamentally independent of utilitarian factors. 

Although this is an appealing argument, we suggest that utility of plants may 
well be incorporated into classification schemes for plants, and that categories 
such as “foods” or “economic plants” cannot be separated from a general classifi- 
cation of plants. Johnson-Gottesfeld’s experience suggests that in families which 
engage directly in subsistence activities, children learn the economic and utilitar- 
ian aspects of plants as soon as they become aware of the plant world. Johns (1990) 
suggests that there is a period of time after weaning when young children are 
particularly receptive to learning new foods, and are most likely to sample differ- 
ent plants in their environment. This leads to a peak in accidental poisonings of 
young toddlers, but might also make children of this age very impressionable re- 
garding the potential edibility of plants in the environment, if they are in contact 
with the plant world and are among adults who regularly harvest plants for food. 

It is true that not all types of use are likely to be learned equally early, nor, 
indeed, by all members of a given society (cf. the study of Tzeltal children’s ethno- 
botanical knowledge by Stross 1973, cited in Berlin 1992). Medicinal uses of plants 
may be learned much later, and may involve specialization of skills and knowl- 
edge. However, important edible and poisonous plants are likely to be learned by 
children, concurrently with their use or avoidance, as soon as they are mobile and 
can talk. 

Bulmer (1974:12-13) explores the relationship between obvious utility and 
plants and animals named by the Kalam of New Guinea: 


“The recognition of both the objective and subjective importance of ecol- 
ogy to human communities throws light on the problem of classification 
and naming of apparently useless animals and plants. If one sees individual 
plant and animal categories solely in their direct relationships to man, there 
are many which appear irrelevant, neither utilised nor noxious. However if 
the relationships between different kinds of plants and animals are 
recognised as relevant, then a great range of additional forms will very us& 
fully be identified and classified... 

My final introductory point is that it is this ecological perspective which 
requires systems of classification to recognise basic categories, reflecting 
discontinuities in nature “in the round”, multidimensionally, systematically 
relating morphological discontinuities with discontinuities in behaviour, 
as well as direct cultural significance.” 


Some features of the naming of edible or cultivated plants versus non-utilized 
or wild plants by Amazonian peoples can also be interpreted as coding utility 
within the plant taxonomy. In many cultures, cultivated plants are excluded from 
the life forms in which their non-cultivated congeners are included, clearly — 
ing a utilitarian component (in a negative sense) to for the Ka’apor “life-forms 
(Balée 1989), 

The Ka’apor label folk generics which are wild or unutilized with an animal 
name coupled to the name of a cultivated form (Bal+e 1989). This indirect on 
of disutility by use of animal names may be seen in the Witsuwiten name e 
black twinberry and snowberry discussed previously. The Chewa of Malawi use 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 93 


animal names to signal the inedible or dubious status of mushrooms (Morris 1984). 
Turner (1975) reports that in Nuxalkmce (Bella Coola), the literal translation of devil’s 
club (with inedible berries and a rhizome that may be used medicinally) is ‘grizzly 
bear’s highbush cranberry’. Gitksan terms for several non-edible berries also con- 
tain animal names: sgan maa’ya gaak ‘raven’s berry plant’ is the name for black 
twinberry, used for medicine; maa’ytwhl smex (lit. ‘bear’s berry’) refers to Aralia 
nudicaulis, with inedible berries that may be used medicinally (Johnson 1997). 
maa’ya smex (lit. ‘bear’s berry’) or maa’y litisxw (lit. ‘blue grouse’s berry’) are 
alternative names for queen’s cup (Clintonia uniflora), regarded as poisonous 
(Johnson 1997). The term mi’ ganaa’w, ‘frog berry’ for the edible cloudberry Rubus 
chamaemorus is an exception. 

An intriguing feature of northwestern North American plant classification is 
the direct coding of utility in some tree species. In Gitksan, the names of many tree 
species mean “good for ” (johnson 1997). Cottonwood (Populus balsamifera L. 
ssp. trichocarpa [Torr. & Gray] Hult.) is am m’al, lit. ‘good for canoe’. Western red 
cedar is either sim gan, lit. ‘real wood’, ‘tree’, or am hat’a’l, lit. ‘good for cedar 
bark’. In Witsuwit’en, cottonwood is ts’ay, polysemous with ‘canoe’, and maple 
(Acer glabrum Torr. ssp. douglasii [Hook.] Wesmael) is ?a¢, polysemous with ‘snow- 
shoe’, or ?a¢ can (lit. ‘snowshoe wood’). Turner (1987) reports several such examples 
from Lillooet including terms for ‘ocean spray’ (Holodiscus discolor [Pursh] Maxim.), 
lit. ‘digging stick plant’, and ‘bitter cherry’ (Prunus emarginata [Dougl.] Walp.), lit. 
‘bitter cherry bark’, important for imbricated designs in Salish coil basketry. 


Shallowness of hierarchy. — The uneven development of “life form” classes, coupled 
with the irregular presence of intermediate taxa and the rarity of folk specifics 
indicates a shallow and weakly developed hierarchic structure in Witsuwit’en eth- 
nobotanical classification. As mentioned above, this situation has been reported 
for other folk biological classification systems such as Sahaptin (Hunn and French 
1984). Turner (1987:77), describing the overall ethnobotanical classification sys- 
tems of the Thompson and Lillooet, was moved to remark: 


“A number of the major categories are at least partially defined by utilitar- 

ian, rather than solely morphological features. These categories are not 

necessarily mutually exclusive. Most are residual, having a few highly ft 
lient named terminal taxa and many recognizably distinct, but unname 

members. Most of the named taxa have, or had in the past, a high level o 

cultural significance, particularly as foods, [technological] materials or medi- 

cines.” 

Had she confined her analysis to taxa which did not overlap and hie — 
only on morphological and perceptual differences, she would have mis: soe 
of the structuring of the botanical domain by speakers of these cs 
though loose hierarchy is apparent in the taxonomies of these groups, "ne i om 
is much more fluid and less systematic than the classic hierarchical ast casa 
alized by Berlin et al. (1973). In a later paper investigating intermediate 
groupings, Turner (1989:71) comments: 


“Hunn (1982), Randall (1976) and other researchers..-have presented data 


94 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


that contradict or at least render less certain the contentions of Berlin and 
his colleagues that ranked, hierarchical folk biological classifications sys- 
tems based on perception of overall phological similariti universal 
and are the only valid framework for folk taxonomies. Classes based on 
utilitarian features, and relationships through affiliation, association and 
“sphere of influence” rather than stringent hierarchical inclusion are per- 
ceived by many researchers to play a significant role in folk 
biotaxonomies...data presented in this study supports the views of Hunn 
(1976, 1982) and others that relationships based on affiliation and utility are 
important components of plant classification systems.” 


In Witsuwit’en ethnobotanical classification, hierarchy is weakly developed, 
and relationships between taxa based on inclusive relationships are poorly devel- 
oped. Only one polytypic folk generic has been described to date. The postulated 
major life forms may overlap, as mi? with dacon and c’at’an . Intermediate groups 
appear to exist, but their relationship to “life forms” is not yet clear. Prototypy 
seems applicable to five of the postulated seven intermediate groups described. 
The “coordination” model of Hunn and French (1984) may better describe the eth- 
nobotanical classification of the Witsuwit’en than hierarchical relations, in that 
folk generics may be seen to form clusters or groups based on affiliation rather 
than inclusion. 


SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS 


Although this study is not exhaustive, plants named by the Witsuwit’en ap- 
pear to be primarily those of high utility and/or of ecological and perceptu 
salience. We have collected the names of 91 plant classes which cover the low to 
mid elevation flora of the Bulkley River drainage, where the Witsuwit’en with 
whom we have worked primarily have lived and carried out traditional hunting, 
trapping, fishing, berry picking, and other subsistence activities. There are cer” 
tainly more than 91 vascular plant species in the Bulkley Valley and surrounding 
area. A preliminary estimate of the vascular plant flora of the Bulkley River drain- 
age, including high elevation sites, is 900-1000 species (Jim Pojar, British Columbia 
Forest Service, personal communication 1997); compared to 85 Witsuwit'en sag 
vascular plant classes. Although many types of low salience and economic impor 
tance are probably subsumed in ‘grass’ and ‘flower’, some vascular plant species 
are simply unnamed, at least by the modern Witsuwit’en. This is similar to e 
pattern reported for other foraging peoples such as the Sahaptin (Hunn 1982) © 
the Columbia Plateau, who name 213 vascular taxa of the approximately 2000 Met 
cular plant species which occur in their traditional territory, or roughly 10%. t 

Plants which are named include all tree species (in the English sense), Mos 


large shrubs, plants which produce edible fruit, plants which are used for mie: 
and poisonous 


like grasses, 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 95 


subsumed in two “empty” life forms. One folk class of moss, yan tl "ax yal or more 
commonly yin (yal), ‘diaper moss’, is differentiated because of its functional im- 
portance. Fungi in general are lumped as c’ebedzaq. A single type of technological 
and medicinal use is called either dac’ac’asts’o? ‘burl’ or tl’e¢tse ‘fire carrying 
fungus’, and the uncanny puffballs are called dani zic cac’ascakw (lit. ‘corpse’s 
navel’). Whether they are considered types of c’ebedzaq| t been determined 
Similarly, the position of day ye, ‘black tree moss’, conspicuous arboreal hairlike 
lichens used as tinder, with reference to more inclusive classes has not been deter- 
mined. 

As noted, Witsuwit’en major plant classes or “life forms” include utilitarian 
factors in their definition. In this respect they are similar to those of the Thompson 
and Lillooet (Turner 1987) and other Northwest North American Indian groups. 
“Empty” or “monogeneric life forms” are found among the major plant catego- 
ries, i.e., ‘grass’, ‘moss’, ‘mushroom’, and ‘flower’. Hierarchical organization is 
shallow, and higher level classes may cross-cut one another, a situation also re- 
ported by Hunn (1982), Randall and Hunn (1984) and Turner (1987, 1989). 

Our findings regarding Witsuwit’en plant classification may be influenced by 
selective loss of detail of less salient or economically important plants as a corol- 
lary of extensive changes in life style and culture contact in the past 100 years. 
Berlin (1992) and Waddy (1982) suggest that the low level of specific taxa could be 
caused by this type of cultural erosion, though Hunn (1982) argues cogently that 
this is unlikely for the Sahaptin. Memory ethnography introduces some biases; 
elders sometimes report that they don’t know or can’t remember the name of a 
specific plant, or what plant was used for a particular purpose, but that their grand- 
mother would have known. It is possible, for example, that more wildflowers once 
had specific names. However, Morris (1984) in a traditional Malawian population, 
reports that conspicuous flowers without uses are neither named nor apparently 
recognized, so this may not be an artifact of information loss. Variability of plant 
knowledge within the culture combined with sampling bias also influences re- 
ported patterns of naming and classification (c.f. Gardner 1976; Hays 1974; ore 
1993; Berlin 1992). Sometimes errors in plant reference can be detected —_- 
tive from learning of plant names and uses only from hearsay, without — i. 
the experience of gathering the plants in question. Such inaccuracies canno tee 
corrected if no elders remain who have been shown the correct plants or gathe 
them themselves, 

The nomenclatural patterns of the Witsuwi session ee 
other foraging peoples Le respect to the low level of folk specific ee 

is is true even with polytypic genera such as Rubus and Vaccinium. shaape 
worthy feature of the Witsuwit’en plant lexicon is the relatively high ite bial 
terms, 58%, with some sort of descriptive meaning in addition to their referen 

ction. : . 

A significant number of Witsuwit’en plant terms are shared with - _— 
boring Tsimshianic language Gitksan. Most of these terms appear to . <a 
borrowed into Witsuwit’en from Gitksan, but at least three terms xh a * at 
gone in the opposite direction. Borrowed plant names exhibit whe rs ee 
8taphic pattern, except for cedar/cedar bark, red elderberry, and cra aa re 
are predominantly coastal. Turner (1974) reports a similar occurrence © 


ten seem consistent with those of 


96 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No.1 


of Bella Bella origin in Bella Coola (Nuxalk) plant names. 

As plant foods were trade items among these groups and also prominent in 
the feast hall, it is likely that the occurrence of plant loanwords reflects the shared 
heritage of trade and mutual feasting in the Northwest Coast area. 

The significance of postulated loan words between Carrier and Witsuwit’en is 
not entirely clear; possibly long-distance trade relations have also encouraged ex- 
change of plant knowledge and terms between these two groups. Shared term 
include a number of common trees and shrubs used for medicinal purposes, plus 
some terms for herbaceous plants which may be used medicinally or not. 


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 


We would first like to acknowledge all of the Witsuwit’en elders and speakers who 
have shared their knowledge with us and been our teachers during this research. These 
include the late Madeline Alfred, Katherine Arsenault, the late Charles Austin, Margaret 
Austin, the late Mary Ann Austin, Mabel Forsythe, Andrew George, Leonard George, Joe 
George, George Holland, Alfred Joseph, Cecile Lapalme; the late Bazil Michell, Doris Rosso, 
Josephine Michell, the late Alfred Mitchell, Jenny Mitchell, Augustine Morris, Roy Morris, 
Lizette Naziel, Pat Namox, Lucy Namox, Louise Pierre, Doug Tait, Elsie Tait, Sara Tait, 
Tommy Tait, Christina William, and Margaret Williams. We would like to acknowledge the 
assistance of Alfred Joseph and Dora Wilson, who checked transcriptions and glosses of 
botanical terms. We would also like to acknowledge the Gitksan-Wet’suwet’en Education 
Society, the Kyah Wiget Education Society, the Gitksan-Wet’suwet’en Tribal Council, and 
Office of Wet’suwet’en Hereditary Chiefs for their support and encouragement during 
this research. 

Johnson-Gottesfeld would like to acknowledge financial support by the Gitksan- 
Wet’suwet’en Education Society, the Kyah Wiget Education Society, NNADAP (funding 
for the Gitksan-Wet’suwet’en Traditional Medicine Program), and the Secretary of State 
(Canada) (funding for the Plant Curriculum Project of the Kyah Wiget Education Society), 
the Canadian Circumpolar Institute (fieldwork funding 1992-1995), and the SSHRC (doctoral 
fellowship 1994-1997). She would also like to thank Witsuwit’en translators Doris Rosse 
and Cecile LaPalme, Gillian Story and Bruce Rigsby for assistance with linguistic analysis; 
Gillian Story, Gregory Forth, C. Roderick Wilson, and Nancy J. Turner for helpful discussions 
and manuscript review; and Dale H. Vitt for determination of the sphagnum used for 
diapers. 

Hargus gratefully acknowledges financial support for linguistic research which was 
provided by the National Science Foundation (OPP 9307704). 


NOTES 


Valley, Babine Lake, Takla Landing, Burns Lake, and Francois Lake areas Of Tit’ 
and north central British Columbia (Kari and Hargus 1989). Wet’suwet’en 15 sak 
spelling of the name, and is the spelling which Johnson-Gottesfeld has used in previ0 

publications. The Witsuwit’en language is distinct from Carrier, a contiguous languas® 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 97 


spoken to the east and south (Kari 1975; Story 1984). 
Translators for this research were Doris Rosso and Cecile LaPalme. 


*Ellen (1993) discusses in detail the characteristics of a true taxonomy which is a hierarchi- 
cal structure organized by relations of class inclusion. Ellen rejects the universality of true 
taxonomy in ethnobiological classification, and argues that, for the Nuaulu at least, at- 
tempts to force their classification of biological forms into a taxonomic model distorts the 
characteristics of that system. We have therefore chosen to use the more neutral terms 
“classification” and “class” in this paper rather than “taxonomy” and “taxon,” except where 
true taxonomic classification is meant. 


‘Witsuwit’en words are transcribed using standard phonetic symbols as indicated below, 
with the exception of [g], which represents a voiceless unaspirated palatal stop. 


Consonants: labial alveolar _— palatal ~=labiovelar uvular _ laryngeal 
voiceless unaspirated b d g ed y 
stops 
/affricates dz dl 
voiceless 
aspirated stops p t . kw bs 
/affricates ts tt 
glottalized stops e c kw’ - : 
/affricates ts’ t?’ 
voiceless fricatives :s s cid x : 
voiced fricatives e4 ye 
nasals m n ne 
Vowels: front central back 
high i u 
mid e fe) 0 
low € a 


ern Witsuwit’en, both Picea mariana 


5A possible tion i . For most mod , 
P exception is black spruce. For distinct term for black or ‘swamp 


and Picea glauca x engelmanii are called ts’o. However, a 
Spruce ‘ae also fete event nedus. Its relationship to ts’o could be that ofa se pee 
or they could be two generics, one of which is in the process of being subsum: ata 
other. The two species of Sorbus present in the local flora are very similar and ner ati 
interchangeably; they are not distinguished by Witsuwit’en people. Similarly, . i a 
tails Equisetum arvense and E. pratense are not distinguished. Other exceptions inctu 

use of single terms to refer to members of the genera Salix and Carex. 


: ; fod it ti 
*Priscilla Kari (1978) does report a name for the Spiraea, and Pat Namox oS . ior 
Sharon Hargus in 1996, suggesting that it was named. Ethnobotanical knowleag 
Variable among the Witsuwit’en as it is among other peoples. 


7 Although these terms are synonymous, they do not have exactly the same — be 
Witsuwit’en. Both can be used as common nouns, but only mi? — : dace’ 

ames). mi? can also refer to berry-like things (e.g... lemi? peep ‘oversens 
qélemi? ‘toes (collectively)’, tsatmi? ‘small, hard feces’, ye bey ts’9m! Ptrust (ht. 
berries’). not "ay is not attested with this kind of semantic extension. 


98 JOHNSON-GOTTESFELD and HARGUS Vol. 18, No. 1 


8While not all languages encode a “vine” life form, vine is one of the five classes used in 
Brown’s analysis of cross-linguistic patterns of life form occurrence; mushroom, flower, 
moss, and berry plant are not included in his list. 


9Atran (1985:300) comments that: 


...occasionally mushrooms, as for the Brou, and possibly mosses, as in the case of 
the Batak of Sumatra, also assume life-form status. This may owe more to the dis- 
tinctive role they are perceived to play in the economy of nature than to their readily 
visible external morphology (i.e., habitus), for the non-flowering plants (exclusive 
of the ferns, perhaps) may be generally construed as “residual” categories with no 
clearly defined morphological aspect...Ray’s (1682) Musci...those small and often 
hidden plants that lack phenomenal resolution for human beings. 


The last comment perhaps accounts for the fact that the “moss” and “mushrooms” life 
forms are often “empty” or monogeneric, as they are for the Witsuwit’en. 


10 ntsay? ‘it is bad’ is offered as a translation of “it’s poisonous.” We have been unsuccess- 
ful at eliciting any other Witsuwit’en terms for “poison” or “poisonous.” 


1 Gitksan words are transcribed in the Gitksan practical orthography. Gitksan words dis- 
cussed in this paper are from Johnson (1997) and have been reviewed by linguist Bruce 
Rigsby (University of Queensland). Carrier names discussed below are from Morice (1932) 
and Antoine et al. (1974). Sekani data are from Kaska Tribal Council (1997). Dena’ina data 
are from Kari (1987, 1994). Ahtna data are from Kari (1990). Coast Tsimshian data are from 
Dunn (1978). Both Carrier and Sekani terms have been retranscribed here using standard 
phonetic symbols. Other transcription systems have not been altered, and are described in 
the references cited. 


'2 We count names as distinct if they contain distinct morphemes. Thus qaq dalq’a’n and 
q’entsec are tallied as different names of Cornus stolonifera, whereas we consider detsan gé 
get, detsan ?ol, and detsan con variations of the same name, since they all contain detsan 
‘crow, raven’ as the first part of a compound. We do not count as distinct names whi * 
differ in minor phonological ways, such as sasco” tsasco ‘wild carrot’ or c’eyebedzaq 
¢’ebedzaq ‘mushroom, fungus’. 


'3 We follow the usual practice in Athabaskan linguistics in analyzing doyi’n (and other 
words like it) as a prefixed root. Although this instance of da- lacks a meaning of its OW 
and cannot be separated from the root yi’n, there is a handful of other animate nouns ” 
Witsuwit’en which occur with do- , suggesting that it is a separate grammatical element, 4 
prefix: dani ‘man, person; bull moose’, dat’ay ‘duck’, daq’ay ‘cutthroat trout, rainbow trout, 
daguh ‘mosquito’, dayag ‘canyon’, daq’a’n ‘woodchuck, gopher’, dabig¢ ‘sheep’. 


ith Anderson 1977): 


‘4 The Cree word for Pyrola sp. also means ‘beaver’s ear’ (Chalifoux w 
d Athapaskan lan- 


This may be an instance of loan translation between Algonquian an 
guages. 

'S The association of crow or raven with juniper appears widespread among At 
languages; the Kaska term for common juniper, an important medicinal plant in ay 

as well, is nosgé al’ (lit. ‘raven’s boughs’) (Kaska Tribal Council 1997). 


x Bunchberry is also named by association with kinnikinnik as donig yeZ 4S 
above. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 99 


17 
ica sons ane Prep a Bio have Spa ee ro from Witsuwit’en into Gitksan. 

itsuwet’en xeft’ats ‘yellow pond lily rootstock’, C l 
Carrier xett’az, Sekani teh t’aze, teh t’azé?, Ahtna xelt’aa Poet 
low pond lily rootstock’ all appear to contain reflexes of a eb ihr sh ote ‘ ts’ ; 
‘cut’. Furthermore, the Coast Tsimshian name onx# (Dunn 1978) is not a cognat f ha 
Gitksan name. (2) The resemblance between the Witsuwiti en term ts ox ” oer ptard 
per” and the Gitksan term ts’eex , for an ; ae ae 
— Similar forms are found in Nisga’ a (McNeary 1976) and Sekani (ts Ox), though 
8 As a forms (chegenza, chuni ela, chint’uyn, and shint’una) are unrelated. We see 
a see en term as Athapaskan i in origin, derived from Proto-Athapaskan *c’axd ‘hat’. 
: itksan term ganix, gan hix ‘pine a also appears to have been borrowed 
Biv Witsuwit’en q ’anig. Cognates in other Athapaskan Carrier k’enih, 
Race J hee and Ahtna k’iit ‘watery sap’, ‘birch sap’, ‘cottonwood sap’. There is no Coast 
ateotey mae for pine cambium to compare with the Gitksan form, as it is not 
se pare 2 ood on the coast. The phonological resemblance to the Witsuwit’en term 
er - igre strongly suggest borrowing from Witsuwit’en into Gitksan given 
pate mes = Sees of the term in other Athapaskan languages and its lack in 
an (despite the fact that the Gitksan term can be semantically analysed in 

itksan as ‘tree fat’[Rigsby, personal communication)). 


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Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):103-128 Summer 1998 


AN ETHNOBOTANICAL ACCOUNT OF THE VEGETATION 
COMMUNITIES OF THE WOLA REGION, SOUTHERN 
HIGHLANDS PROVINCE, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 


PAUL SILLITOE 
Durham University 


43 Old Elvet 
Durham, England DH1 3HN 


ABSTRACT.—The vegetation epee Cpe g oak by the Wola people of the 
Southern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea are the subject of this paper, 
which complements a previous one on their botanical taxonomic scheme (Journal of 
Ethnobiology 15:201-235). The Wola identify nine vegetation types, with a further four 
sub-types, ranging from climax montane forest to seral communities of grassland. 
The composition of these communities is investigated, supported by data on plant 
species present, collected in a series of quadrat surveys (detailed in Appendix). The 
number of species in each community is found to range from 18 to 174. The Wola 
describe the vegetational communities on disturbed land as comprising #” 


the unaltered forest community. This paper is organized around this presumed 
ecological succession. While there is a broad correspondence between the local and 
tifi bo fag 


scientific recog logical zones, which the quantitative data reinforce, 
the differences in these knowledge traditions should not be overlooked. Wola 
p ti tlined so f hensible. Attitudes to human induced changes 


in vegetation cover are also explored, and found to be equivocal. 


RESUMEN. — Las comunidades vegetacionales distinguidas por la gente wola 
de la Provincia de las Tierras Altas del Sur en Paptia Nueva Guinea son el monn 
este trabajo, que complementa un articulo previ ; a ipos d 
botanico (Journal of Ethnobiology 15:201-235). Los wola identifican nueve Hipoe ra 
vegetacién, con cuatro subtipos adicionales, que van desde bosque climax e 
montafia hasta idad darias de pastizal. In 

de estas comunidades, con el apoyo de datos acerca de las especies de plantas 
presentes, recabados en una serie de encuestas de cuadrante. 
composicién de especies en las comunidades varia de 18 a 1 

re eas ‘Cen ] tahlecid i 


74. Los wola hablan 
1 ] epg a 


s . 

una serie antropogénica de variable composicién y riqueza de ine ge 
relaciona con la comunidad de bosque no alterado, y nuestro trabajo 

: Poi ‘ <0 acologica. Si bien a grandes rasgos 
hay una correspondencia entre la identificacion local y la identificacion sagen 
de estas zonas ecoldgicas, que es reforzada por los datos cuantitativos, n 
dejarse a un lado las diferencias entre estas tra 
esbozamos las percepciones wola en la medi ’ 
también las actitudes hacia los cambios en la cubierta vegetal induct 
seres humanos, y encontramos que son equivocas. 


un i i ds de la Papo 
Reb sarees - ease He ee i wola des plantes (Journal 


fr < ft ti nN, 
of E thnobiology 15:201-235). Les Wola identifient neuf types de eT 
quatre autre sous-types, en partant de la zone fo o i 


104 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


jusqu’aux zones sérielles herbacées. La composition de ces zones est examinée 
avec des données sur les espéces végétales présentes i toriées au moyen d’une 
série de levés de terrain par lots circonscrits (détails en annexe). Le nombre 
d’espéces dans les zones varie de 18 4 174. Les Wola parlent d le vé 
sur les terres perturbées comme étant constituées d’une série anthropogeénique 
de composition variée et trés riche en espéces qu’on rapporte a la zone forestiére 
non af os rs fof Snes Le Lee | ¢ a > 44 ‘ 
écologique présumée. Bien qu'il y ait une correspondance générale entre 
V'identification locale et l’identification scientifique de ces zones écologiques, ce 
1 4 4 pip ng: : 4 , Pe be rae gs Sees ae 


As PRA 
bat oo ed talivil 


* eS! i ieee Ducat 

de connaissances ne doivent pas étre négligées et les perceptions des Wola sont 
mises en évidence en autant qu’elles ont pu étre dévoilées. Les attitudes a l’égard 
des changements du couvert végétal d’origine humaine sont aussi examinées et 
apparaissent équivoques. 


The indigenous classification of biological communities has so far received 
considerably less attention than folk systematics. The understanding that people 
like the Wola of the Papua New Guinea highlands have of their plant resources 
predictably extends well beyond naming the flora that occurs in their region, and 
then ordering these plants according to their folk botanical classification. It is nec- 
essary to go beyond a discussion of taxonomic schemes, interesting as these are, to 
explore more fully people’s understanding of plant associations and ecology — 
which they achieve in part using their classifications — in order to achieve a fuller 
understanding of their perceptions of their natural environment and how these 
inform their interactions with it. In a previous paper (Sillitoe 1995a) I made a start 
in cataloguing the plants that occur in the Wola area and describing how Wola 
classify them. This is the first step towards an appreciation of their knowledge of 
their region’s vegetation and their relation with and influence upon it. 

The next step involves documenting the different plant communities and habi- 
tats recognized by the Wola. To that end, I investigate here the composition and 
structure of these associations. (For further information on the various vegeta- 
tional communities described here, and a finer botanical classification of the 
different communities, see Robbins and Pullen 1965; Paijmans 1976:84-97; Johns 
1976, 1982). The Wola recognize several different vegetational communities, com 
prising varying populations of plants and animals, both named and unnamed. 
Their awareness of these communities and understanding of their dynamics in- 
fluence their attempts to manage their natural resources and their consequent 
impact upon the environment. This knowledge informs their cultivation strate- 
gies, although it is more evident in their practices than in their verbalized accounts. 
This presents certain epistemological problems in documenting their appreciation 
of the mark they make on the plant world (Sillitoe 1995b). 

The taxonomic schemes of people only reflect part of their understanding of the 
natural world. Envir tal k ledge is transferred between generations, in other 
Ways too, such as in terms of vegetation communities. This information among High 
landers is not codified but diffuse, communicated piecemeal through expen 
and has a marked practical aspect. When asked to justify their naming of A ye 
tion community they are likely to look perplexed. They are not used to being 45 -: 
how they distinguish these communities, and do not readily cite, for example, ce 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 105 


tain plants in specified proportions as diagnostic. Their awareness of vegetation 
community structure |} lated j f experi , of seeing th 
munities and hearing comments from others about them. Placing indigenous and 
scientific perspectives of vegetation ecology side by side helps us to achieve a more 
rounded understanding of the environmental impact of human activities, relating 
both to the effect people think they have on natt gents and what tside 
observers make of their practices. The objective is not to assess the veracity of local 
ideas against ecological ones — both are relative — but to enrich our overall under- 
standing of envi tal iations within cultural context. 


as 


THE WOLA REGION 


Wola speakers occupy five valleys in the Southern Highlands of Papua New 
Guinea ne of Lake Kutubu, between 6° 0'/20' S and 143° 15'/45' E (Map 1). The 
majority of the population lives at 1600-2000 m asl. The topography is mountain- 
ous, rugged and precipitous, with turbulent ri flowing along the valley floors. 
The Wola live along the valley sides, leaving the intervening watersheds largely 
unpopulated. In the valleys, where they have cultivated extensively, there are ar- 
eas of dense cane grass interspersed with the grassy clearings of fallowed or recently 
abandoned gardens and the brown earth and dark green foliage of current ones. 
Lower montane rainforest occurs on the mountains and in the unpopulated parts 
of river valleys. 

The region’s climate is of the ‘Lower Montane Humid’ type (according to the 
scheme of McAlpine et al. 1983:160). It is characterized by high rainfall sf annual 
average 3011 mm — cool temperatures, due to the moderating effect altitude — 
mean daily temperature 18°C — and the absence of soil moisture droughts. Varia- 


ing the location of Wolaland 


MAP 1. — Map of the island of New Guinea show 


106 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


tions in topography and altitude give rise to numerous micro-climates locally. The 
weather is generally equable, many days featuring sunny mornings and rainy af- 
ternoons. There are no notable seasons sufficient to influence crop cultivation, 
although the Wola distinguish two seasons called ebenjip and bulenjip, which 
equate with the Southern Hemisphere’s summer and winter (Sillitoe 1994). The 
same climatic conditions largely prevail throughout the year, although unpredict- 
able perturbations can occur, such as overly dry or wet weather, which can 
adversely affect crop yields. 
The substrate envi 


ie y rocks largely, mainly lime- 

stone, with igneous rocks of more recent volcanic origin on its margins. In the 
recent geological past the region was uplifted, then folded and faulted. Frequent 
earth tremors indicate that these earth movements continue today. The relatively 
recent of this folding accounts for the landscape’s sharp relief, and was 
responsible for its current north-west/south-east axis. Contemporary geomorpho- 
logical processes are changing the region rapidly, maintaining its youthful and 
raw topography; weathering proceeds apace, erosion is constant, and the occa- 
sional large-scale earth movement can dramatically change the local landscape 
(L6ffler 1977). 

Soils of the inceptisol and andisol order dominate the region. Soils of other 
orders (entisols, ultisols, mollisols, and histosols) cover small areas in comparison 
and are relatively insignificant (USDA 1975; Bleeker 1983). The soils are derived 
from sedimentary parent materials, variably affected by volcanic ash (from domt- 
nated by it, to no evident effects), with some alluvial redeposition. Some are affected 
by high water content leading to changes in their morphology. Older alluvial soils 
consist of redeposited volcanic ash; recent ones are of eroded bedrock and rede- 
posited clayey soil. Sandy soils are very localized, occurring largely whee 
occasional sandstone beds outcrop at the surface. Shallow soils too are very lim- 
ited. Any of these soils may be subject to wet conditions and become a gley, and if 
the wet conditions are particularly severe and prolonged, peaty soils of high or- 
ganic matter may develop. 

The youth of the soils, combined with several rejuvenating episodes of volca- 
nic ash fall, results in fairly productive soils, with appropriate management. 
Land-use history depends largely upon horticultural use. Dotted across the land- 
scape are neat gardens. The Wola practice a sedentary variation of shifting 
cultivation, and subsist on a predominantly vegetable diet in which sweet potato 
is the staple. Their agricultural practices result in two broad classes of gare 
those cleared and planted once with a wide variety of crops (the classic swidden 
regime), and those planted two or more times, sometimes over and over again for 
decades, with brief spells in grass fallow. These support a narrower range of crops, 
largely sweet potato. Gardens range in size from small plots adjacent to hom 
steads (av. 90 m2), through taro gardens (av. 495 m2), to large cultivations of mainly 
sweet potato (av. 1150 m2). 

e Wola live in squat houses scattered along the sides of their valleys, ™ 
areas of extensive cane grassland, the watersheds between being heavily forestee- 
They do not depend on hunting and gathering to supply them with food to - 
extent, and today make considerably less use of local raw materials to produc 


things than prior to European contact. They keep pig herds of considerable 512€- 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 107 


They hand these creatures, together with other items of wealth such as sea-shells 
and cosmetic oil, around to one another in an unending series of ceremonial ex- 
changes, which mark all important social events. These t ions are a significant 
force for the maintenance of order in their fiercely egalitarian, acephalous society. 
Local social organization also features territorial groups of kin called semg*nk and 
semonda (‘small’ and ‘large families’), which structure access to land. Their super- 
natural conceptions centre on beliefs in the ability of their ancestors’ spirits to 
cause sickness and death, in various other forest spirit forces, and in others’ pow- 
ers of sorcery and “poison.” 


METHODOLOGY 


The following accounts of vegetational ecology are structured around succes- 
sions identified and named by the Wola. They distinguish eight major vegetational 
communities, as follows: 


iyshabuw lower montane rainforest 

pa wetland vegetation 

haenbora rocky vegetation 

yom alpine vegetation 

way bway cultivated vegetation, comprising two locales: 
em gardens 
aend bort (or aendtay) houseyard environs 

mokombai recently abandoned garden successions, including: 
taengbiyp pioneer herbaceous regrowth 
bol later coarse grass regrowth 

gaimb cane grass regrowth 

obael secondary forest regrowth 


They distinguish a ninth named community — pletbok ‘thicket’ _ which a 
Occur at locales within some of the above vegetational successions (notably 


Th Rupee ae mposition of these plant com- 
e method adopted in this investigation of the comp ana of thelt 


and discrimi knowledge accumulated gradually, 
‘scriminatory features, often on site. The ip : piece ostic floristic features of 


J ro 
Yat 


"istic structure which the Wola look for in discri g 
There followed a series of quadrat surveys to gather q ae 
omposition of the various successions (Kershaw 1973; Kent ane 0 


uantifiable data on the 
ker 1992). These 


108 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


data were recorded in detail in tables, covering each of the different vegetational 
communities. These tables ged according to Wola categories of growth form 
(woody plants, vines, tree ferns, etc.), and alphabeti lly by botanical families within 
each of these categories. They include the Wola name for the plants, together with 
their species and genera identifications. Space limitations here prevent inclusion of 
the baseline data for each site. However, that information is available at http:// 
www.dur.ac.uk/~dan0ps/veg.html. Botanical identifications have been substanti- 
ated by vouchers, annotat f I i bei g deposi ted at several herbaria 
(see Sillitoe 1995a), upon which determinations depended, together with some use 
of available monographic keys. I relied heavily upon my Wola assistants’ knowl 
edge of their region’s flora in making discriminations. 

The dimensions of the areas surveyed varied according to the size of the veg- 
etation comprising the communities. Where the vegetation included some very 
large plants (iyshabuw ‘montane forest’, obael ‘secondary woodland’, and gaimb 
‘cane grassland’), 10x10 m quadrats were marked out using surveyor’s tape, and 
all of the plants occurring in the demarcated area were counted, excluding fungi 
and mosses. Where the plants were smaller (em ‘gardens’, mokombai ‘abandoned 
gardens’, haenbora ‘rockland’, and pa ‘swampland’ communities), 1 m square 
portable frames were used, thrown at random in the locations surveyed, and all 
plants that grew within the area delimited by the squares counted. (The complete 
original data sets may be requested from the author via e-mail.) When the frames 
tipped sideways or caught in shrubbery in dense vegetation, we moved plant stems 
where possible to even them up, or if they were too robust for this, undid one 
corner of the frame to encompass them. The larger 100 m2 sites, like those in the 


ee 


Pet af 
yy 22>? 
, 


a 
J 


Pe 


Tat Pee ea “34>? 


Montane forest 
Secondary regrowth 
ed (largely grassland) 


Swamp ‘ 
Alpine 


0 kilometres 10 
[SRR Eee ee | 


ee | eet | 
mis 
N24 


tat 


a5 
3 


ee ot eee Ee? be gee Boe Sha: NATL | 


?? 


MAP 2. — Map of the vegetation of Wolaland. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 109 


forest, were selected at random, using two random bers per site, to determine 
compass direction and distance in paced meters from the last site surveyed to the 
next one. The survey starting points were selected by pointing blindfold at a map 
of the region. This work was conducted in the Was (Wage) river valley in the 
region of the locality of Haelaelinja (Map 2). 


VEGETATION COMMUNITIES DISTINGUISHED BY THE WOLA PEOPLE 


Iyshabuw ‘montane rainforest’. — The lower montane forest or iyshabuw (< abuw 
‘wood’) is not what one might expect rainforests to be like from popular accounts: 
dense green walls of thick jungle vegetation. In places it is sometimes of unexpect- 
edly open aspect, with the sky visible through the canopy overhead. It is difficult 
to evoke the feel of this forest. It is grand; cathedral-like, it inspires humility. It can 
overawe, particularly those unfamiliar with it, by its size and extent. It is easy to 
lose one’s bearings here. It sometimes worries the Wola too, who may project their 
fears in the shape of forest-dwelling demon spirits. We recorded at total of 174 
plant species in 2500 m? of this habitat (Table 1). 

The Wola say that the southern beech (Nothofagus spp.) predominates in the 
iyshabuw forest, with many gigantic mature trees and a considerable scattering f 
younger ones, plus the occasional dead or dying tree with bare stag-headed crown. 
The quadrat survey data support their assertions; 12.1% of the large trees in the 
montane rainforest plots surveyed were Nothofagus beech (174 species recorded in 
2500 m? surveyed). A prominent canopy tree in these highland forests, the beech 
reaches maximum heights of +30 m, with branches giving a nearly level or domed 
canopy (Ash 1982). Beech populations, gregarious and non-allelopathic, charac- 
teristically form extensive single genus, even single species stands, which is fairly 
unusual for tropical forests. A shallow rooting tree, it can be unstable, and in high 
winds my Wola friends always become very anxious in the forest, fearing tree 
falls. Its upper altitudinal limit extends somewhat beyond that of cultivation. The 
montane Wola environment suits Nothofagus beech, which favors cloudy a 
where precipitation is continuously high. Seedlings require an open tree canopy : 
they are to complete successfully and grow into mature trees. The proportion 0 


TABLE 1. — Iyshabuw rainforest summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 
Species per 
Quadrat 
Trees 4] 109 = 
Tree Ferns ? 15 cles 
Ferns 2 - ae : 
Screw-pines 1 4 ah 
Vines 18 22 4% 
Cane Grasses 1 1 57% 
Large Herbs pe 6 26% 
Grasses and Herbs 10 15 


Totals (in 2500 m2) 82 174 


110 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


Nothofagus seedlings and saplings to those of other trees that may grow into the 
canopy is, at 6.9%, almost one half of the ratio of mature beech trees to other canopy 
trees, suggesting that proportionately more beeches than other tree species may 
survive to become forest giants. 

The growth rate of young plants increases markedly with the creation of gaps in 
the canopy through senescence or tree fall, as the Wola are aware. They sometimes 
create spaces by felling trees to encourage the growth of selected saplings, such as 
those that yield edible nuts or fruits. These occur with natural dieback too, some- 
times of several trees and even entire patches of forest, associated with a combination 
of unfavorable weather and pathogenic attack (Kalkman and Vink 1970). The beech 
is not a colonizing genus, regeneration scarcely extending beyond the canopy of 
Nothofagus stands (Walker 1966), which is interpreted as evidence that today’s stands 
are relics of once more widespread beech forests upon which other genera have 
encroached (Ash 1982).? In the Wola region it is common for discrete patches of 
beech forest to occur surrounded by multi-genera forest (Robbins and Pullen 1965; 
Kalkman and Vink 1970; Walker 1966). According to Ash (1982), beeches overall 
comprise between 10% and 20% of the canopy trees in lower montane forest, which 
complies with the quadrat survey findings reported here. 

While beech is dominant, other trees may occur in considerable numbers, ri- 

valling the beech in places, giving a mixed aspect to large tracts of forest (see Table 
12).3 They include oaks (Lithocarpus and Castanopsis), like the southern beech, 
members of the Fagaceae, and have retained similar ecological habitat compat- 
ibilities. Wola point out that Lithocarpus oaks are particularly common in heavily 
disturbed forested pockets on lower valley slopes. Other trees here include figs 
(Ficus), colas (Sterculia), white magnolias (Galbulimima), gamboges (Garcinia), and 
elaeocarps (Elaeocarpus), among others. The trees form a ca. 80% canopy cover at 
about 30 m, with some emergents above it, and sometimes with a secondary oF 
diffuse layer at +20 m, all competing for a share of the light. Our Wola consultants 
say that it is difficult to identify any clear stratification in the forest because of the 
overlapping crowns in the various layers. The trees are also shallow rooting on 
the whole like Nothofagus, with most of their roots fairly evenly distributed in the 
top 20-30 cm of the soil (Edwards and Grubb 1977, 1982). The ground cover 6 
frequently heavy, often restricting visibility, and varies from dense stands of sap- 
lings and shrubs (including species of Melastomaceae, Phyllanthus, Pipturus, 
Cyrtandra, Piper, Symplocos, and Daphniphyllum), to impenetrable tangles of slen- 
der-stemmed climbing bamboo (Racemobambos congesta), which men ane 
cut down and wrap around their heads like foliage wigs. There are also masses © 
fleshy leafed herbs, notably gingerworts (Zingiberaceae, Urticaceae) and ferns, 
both tree ferns (Cyatheaceae) and in places numerous low clump ferns (Cyclosorus), 
which the Wola also favor, picking fronds for personal decoration, a sign that they 
have been in the forest (Table 1). 
The forest has a wet aspect, dripping much of the time, frequently enveloped 
in low cloud and subject almost daily to considerable rainfall. The wetness 1S or 
of the most tiresome aspects of forest travel because it renders everything slippery 
underfoot. Mosses (Frullania, Meteorium, Bazzania, Dicranoloma, and Lepidozia) prea 
in this environment, and thick mats festoon trees and shrubs; men also us© = 
on occasion for wig-like decoration. A springy bed of mosses, which together W? 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 111 


a thick layer of rotting vegetation and fallen leaves, covers the ground, forming a 
raw or partially decomposed litter through which surface roots run. The forest 
floor is criss-crossed with surface and stilt roots and fallen timbers. With the un- 
even ground, pitted by hollows and crevices, and the standing vegetation, traveling 
is awkward off the established paths, and progress slow. 

The trees also support a variety of climbing plants, from woody lianas (Alyxia, 
Cayratia, and Dimorphanthera) to palms (Rattan) and pandan vines (Freycinetia), all 
twining strongly around their trunks, growing into canopy gaps to the light over- 
head. Trees act as hosts for many epiphytic plants too, all of which thrive in the 
humid atmosphere of the forest. They range from bryophytes on trunks, to vascu- 
lar epiphytes and ferns on branches, to sooty moulds on leaves. On the crown 
branches of some trees there is a peat-like accumulation comprising the remains 
of epiphytes and litter which forms a substrate for larger epiphytic plants, and 
occasionally for some tree species which are more often found growing on the 
ground. These include Schefflera, Pittosporum, Timonius, and Gardenia. One way 
the Wola explain that these trees germinate in the crowns of larger trees is by birds 
depositing seeds there in their droppings. They name the red-capped flowerpecker 
(Dicaeum geelvinkianum) it mondiytiylkaelenj (literally, ‘mondiyt-shrub’ + ‘seed’) 
for the fact that it propagates this shrub by distributing its sticky seed via its drop- 
pings. Older and larger trees predictably support more climbers and epiphytes. 
Epiphytic orchids (Dendrobium), together with some other flowering herbs, adda 
splash of color to the dank grey-green background. Sometimes people pick them 
and push them into their hair as ornamentation. 

A feature of the forest familiar to the Wola is the similarity and continuity of its 
structural form and floristi position through a range of stands. Obvious environ- 
mental variations occur, which are sometimes remarked upon by the Wola, as for 
instance, in wet or waterlogged pockets, on bare steep slopes, and along watercourses. 
Landslides and slips, if extensive, can also change the floristic community, although 
the most pervasive interference and consequent modification of successions results 
from the actions of human beings. While the forest is predominantly primary, human 
activity has disturbed considerable tracts (Flenley 1969). In some places the sone 
ence is minimal, a hunter perhaps having felled a tree or cleared some undergrowth. 
In other places the disturbance is extensive, a man having m 
ing to allow the sun access to nut-bearing screw-pines 
areas may become quite large, developing into pandan groves. 
Where in the forest grow singly, here and there. Nearer to settlements peop 
considerably disturbed the forest and altered its floristic composition, with fewer 
and more faster growing, softer-wooded species evident. : 

Forest wildlife is p ae though 1 oneal vocal ped eee 
evations. Some forest birds are highly valued for their plumes, hee oe ms, and 
i ceremonial exchanges. Common mammals include cuscuses, opossu ah na 
tree kangaroos. A wide variety of rodents, including giant rats, rt ri pea hee: 
does the rare spiny egg-laying echidna of remote forested ey arto aii 
merous, including the large flightless cassowary, various small fly - <i aii 
Parrots and lories, soft-hued pigeons, numerous honeyeaters, - Iso numerous 
renowned birds of paradise. Reptile and insect populations are 25° 
and varied. But hunting is not a regular pursuit. 


112 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


The forest supplies other edible products, notably fungi, which people collect 
irregularly. It is also the source of raw materials used in the production of artifacts. 
But Wola attitudes to the resource-rich forest are ambivalent. They enjoy it, but are 
sometimes wary of it; they value it but are piecemeal destroying it. They do not 
readily speak expansively about the forest, beyond saying that it is a large and 
sometimes dangerous place, a place to hunt and a source of raw materials. But 
their fear of forest demons expresses something of their deeper attitudes and am- 
bivalence. It is possible to lose your way in unfamiliar regions. Accidents are more 
likely in the forest, where shallow rooted trees blow over in high winds. One may 
fall on the frequently broken and slippery terrain and injure oneself. Fatalities 
occur. The Wola explain the misfortunes that may befall people there as caused by 
demon spirit creatures called saem and iybtit, which inhabit forests at higher and 
lower altitudes respectively. 

These dang irits may strike those who are reckless or thoughtless. Thus, 
the deep forest is not somewhere to go lightly. This could be interpreted as pro- 
moting a regard for the forest, perhaps even a degree of environmental awareness, 
intimating disquiet over forest destruction. Moreover, one should beware indis- 
criminately damaging the forest, as one may offend a demon. However, this demon 
complex does not reflect a conscious recognition of the need for forest conserva- 
tion. The forest is too vast for the Wola to conceive of its destruction, as it may take 
days to walk through it. It is plausible to interpret their demon beliefs as para- 
doxically endorsing such action, in that by destroying the forest they are exerting 
some control over frontier areas, driving demons from their homeland by depriv- 
ing them of a place to live. Where there is no rain forest, there are no demons. 
However, the idea of destroying all their forest would be unthinkable to the Wola. 
The ambivalence they feel is captured in their demon fears. 


Pa ‘swamp vegetation’. — Wetland communities, varying in size, occur throughout 
forests and grasslands, They occur on poorly-drained sites called suw pa (‘bog 
place’). Depending on the depth of the water table, these areas vary from spongy 
damp swards to waterlogged swamps. Water-loving grasses (e.g-, Leersia, 
Ischaemum, Isachne, Panicum), which dominate swards, and herbs such as sedges 
(Cyperus, Kyllinga), horsetails (Equisetum), and water-parsley (Oenanthe), grow in 
low tussocks. A scattering of wild sugar (Saccharum robustum), clumps of cane grass 
(Miscanthus, Coix), and the occasional tree or dwarf shrub, such as water-gums 
(Syzygium), icacinads (Rhyticaryum), and she-oaks (Casuarina) occur, particularly 
on the swamp margins (see Table 2, 11;. 34 species were recorded in 50 m* of this 
habitat). 

The presence of hydrophytes is indicative of locations with gleyed soils, which 
the Wola favor for taro cultivation, for which they are well suited. These ma em 
‘taro gardens’ may support a range of crops in addition to taro, though taro tends 
to predominate, particularly in mature gardens (Table 3, 11; 47 species were TE 
corded in 32 m? of this habitat). Other crops are most often planted on drier hillocks 
and around tree stumps, including various cucurbits and leafy greens, such ee 
crucifers and acanths (Sillitoe 1983). The weeds that colonize these sites are simr 
lar to those found in other gardens (described below). 

Swamp forest occurs in some waterlogged locales, generally of limited extent 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 113 


TABLE 2. — Pa swampland summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 

Species per 

uadrat 

Trees 1 1 2% 

Tree Ferns 2 Z 2% 

ines fi 1 2% 

Cane Grasses 3 3 3% 

Grasses and Herbs 11 25 18% 

Crops Z a 43% 
Totals (in 50 m2) 20 34 


(Johns 1980). Conifers are common here (indicator species include Dacrydium, 
Podocarpus), together with a range of other trees (Glochidion, Maesa, Homolanthus), 
giving a variable canopy beneath which occurs a dense layer of shrubby vegeta- 
tion. The forest floor is fairly open with pools of water separated by irregular 
hummocks. Botanists have suggested that these conifer-dominated swamp for- 
ests may have arisen due to extreme frosts killing off broadleaved trees (Robbins 
and Pullen 1965), or they may represent an early stage in mixed montane swamp 
forest development (Johns 1980). The wildlife populations supported by any wet- 
land area depends on and reflects the surrounding vegetational community, 
plentiful if forest, more meagre if grassland. 


Haenbora ‘rocky vegetation’. — Rocky locations that support plant life are called 
haenbora. These occupy limited areas of thin skeletal soil found throughout the 
Wola region. They vary in extent, but are generally small. The vegetation consists of 
hardy plants capable of colonizing thin regolith (see Table 4, 11; 18 species were 
recorded in 10 m? of this habitat), notably mosses initially (Frullania, Meteorium), 
followed when a suitable soil-like deposit has accumulated, by some ferns (e.g,, 
Pteridium, Cyclosorus), hardy orchids (Spathoglottis), stunted grasses (Imperata, 
Miscanthus), and the occasional dwarfed sapling (Dodonaea, Ficus, Acalypha). These 
locales are of no horticultural use, although they are sometimes disturbed by, for 
example, when people burn off nearby cultivated areas. These rocky sites may be 


TABLE 3. — Ma em taro garden summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mein % - 

Species per 

Quadrat 
ta 
Tree Ferns 1 1 sab 

Cane Grasses 1 1 - 

Large Herbs 1 1 de 

Grasses and Herbs 11 20 2 ., 

rops 9 12 = 


ee i 
Totals (in 32 m2) 32 47 


114 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 4. — Haenbora rockland summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 
Species per 
Quadrat 
Trees 2 2 30% 
Tree Ferns ve 2 45% 
Ferns 1 1 10% 
Vines 2 4 15% 
Cane Grasses 1 1 40% 
Large Herbs 1 1 10% 
Grasses and Herbs 6 9 54% 
Totals (in 10 m2) 15 18 


used for burials, which people fear as places frequented by ancestral ghosts, making 
them doubly unsuitable for cultivation or other human use. 


Yom ‘alpine vegetation’. — Alpine heath and grassland vegetation, called yom, oc- 
curs on the high volcanic summits that flank Wolaland to the east and west. It is of 
little concern to the Wola, with few resources of use to them. One exception is the 
hardy pandan called dalep or tuwmok (Pandanus brosimos). Some men collect their 
nuts in season. Alpine areas are considered dangerous places because of forest 
demons, and best avoided. The flora is a tussock grassland (of e.g., Danthonia, Poa, 
Deschampsia, Festuca), with small heath-like shrubs (Rhododendron, Coprosma, 
Styphelia), low herbs (Ranunculus, Gentiana, Lycopodium), and gaunt, stunted tree 
ferns (Cyathea). The festucoid composition of mountain grasslands contrasts with 
the panicoid one of lower regions. The flora, with its gentians, buttercups, and 
fuschias is reminiscent of New Zealand (Robbins 1961). Mires are common, wi 
hummock plants and shrubs (Gleichenia, Trochocarpa, Astelia) prominent in stag- 
owe acid bogs and sedges and grasses (Carex, Brachyposium) in fens with moving 
water. 

At high altitudes the forest adjoining these alpine grasslands may be of a quite 
different aspect to that lower down, although still called iyshabuw. Cloud envel- 
ops it daily, influencing its floristic composition. It is a single-tree-layered forest 
(Rhododendron, Rapanea), of stunted and crooked aspect, with a low (10 m) canopy, 
except for some emergent trees (Papuacedrus, Schefflera, Dacrycarpus, Saurauia, 
Podocarpus). Mosses and liverworts are also common, festooning lower branches, 
exposed roots, and crooked trunks; they may even cover the tangled roots and 
decaying forest debris on the forest floor in a thick, wet, spongy carpet. Sprawling 
shrubs are also common (Vaccinium, Coprosma, Dimorphanthera). A dynamic transi- 
tion zone exists between forest and high altitude grassland, creeping shrubs 
colonizing grassy areas by vegetative propagation, while grasses encroach on shrub- 
bery after its occasional destruction in fires (Gillison 1969, 1970). These regions are 
of no horticultural significance, being beyond the altitudinal range of crop plants. 
Pletbok ‘thickets’. — Thickets, particularly of fern, are common in this high-mon- 
tane cloud forest. The Wola refer to these areas as pletbok, a term for any dense 
and impenetrable stand of vegetation that requires the cutting of a path through 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 115 


it. Although pletbok thickets are common at higher altitudes, they are not restricted 
to these locales, also occurring in rain forest and mature secondary successions at 
lower elevations. They are usually of restricted occurrence. They commonly com- 
prise a tangle of ferns (Dicranopteris), climbing bamboo vine (R bambos), sword 
grass clumps (Miscanthus), together with low bushy saplings. People tend to avoid 
thickets, as they are difficult to penetrate, though they may harbor game or occur 
on a site being cleared for cultivation. 


Way bway ‘cultivated communities, gardens and homesteads’. — The Wola call their 
gardens collectively em, distinguishing several kinds. Here they cultivate a wide 
range of crops (Sillitoe 1983). Newly established gardens, particularly those adja- 
cent to homesteads, feature a wide range of intercropped plants (see Table 5, 11; in 
two plots, each 42 m2, we recorded 54 and 55 species [77 total], of which 20 and 9 
were cultivated, respectively). 

Longer established plots have less crop variety, sweet potato vines (Ipomoea) 
predominating over large areas, int ie d witl E ph i (C ucurbita), sugar 
cane (Saccharum), green leafy vegetables and shoots (Rungia, Setaria), and other 
crops (see Table 6, 11; in two plots, each 42 m2, we recorded 52 and 28 species [54 
total], of which 12 and 6 were cultivated, respectively). The occurrence of crops in 
sweet potato gardens does not differ greatly with the time they have been under 
cultivation, as shown by a comparison of data from gardens cleared once, two- 
four times, and five or more times (Table 7). 

All of these gardens support large numbers of sweet potato plants, usually 
cultivated in mounds. There is an evident increase in sweet potato plants per unit 
area as gardens age, from 16 to 18 to 21 plants per m7”, but the range of crops 
cultivated does not change noticeably. This suggests that no dramatic changes 
occur in garden fertility over time, corroborating people’s assertions that sweet 
potato tuber yields vary little between gardens of differing ages. The Wola culti- 
vate a range of other crops in small fertile strips along downslope fence lines, in 
surface dips, and so on. ; 

A range of cultivated plants also occurs in houseyards, called aend bort (liter- 
ally, ‘at house’), and to a lesser extent around adjacent howma ceremonial grounds. 
People cultivate long-term crops around the edges of these clearings, such as ieee 
boo (Nastus), palm lilies (Cordyline), bananas (Musa), screw-pines (Pandanus), an 


TABLE 5. — Em garden (planted once) summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species M _ % of 
Species per 

Quadrat 

Tree Ferns 2 3 = 
Cane Grasses 1 : si 
Large Herbs 1 1 O70, 
Grasses and Herbs 19 39 19% 
Crops 14 20 : 


Totals (in 84 m2) 45 7 


116 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


TABLE 6. — Em garden (planted twice or more) summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 

Species per 

Quadrat 

S 6 7 5% 

Tree Ferns : 1 2% 

Cane Grasses Z os 4% 

Grasses and Herbs 18 33 29% 

Crops 8 11 19% 
Totals 35 54 


TABLE 7. — Comparison of productivity of gardens cleared once, two-four times, 
and five or more times by mean number of plants per m¢. 


Mixed Sweet potato gardens: 

vegetable gardens planted once planted 2-4 planted 

times >5 times 

Sweet potato 0.36 15.80 17.90 20.70 

Leafy vegetables and shoots 10.02 0.91 1.38 0.12 

Pulses 0.57 0.07 0.10 0.10 

Crucifers 1.86 0.27 0.04 0.14 
Cucurbits 0.57 0.02 
Aroids 0.14 0.02 


ornamental plants for body decoration (Acalypta, Laportea, Graptophyllum). They 
may also cultivate on occasion plants that supply useful materials, such as hoop- 
pines (Araucaria), she-oaks (Casuarina), spurges (Euphorbia), bead ashes 
(Elaeocarpus), and marants (Cominisia). 

Some wild plants that invade garden sit dible too, and on occasion people 
cultivate them (e.g., Commelina, Oenanthe, Solanum). Others are not utilized di- 
rectly by the Wola, although they may protect soils against erosion (Sillitoe 1993). 
Different associations of weedy plants are related more to the natural vegetation 
adjacent to sites, and hence to seed supply, than to any other factor. 


Mokombai ‘recent regrowth’. — Recently abandoned, gardens, called em mokombat 
(‘immature-regrowth garden’), pass rapidly through a series of overlapping plant 
successions before either tree or sword grass regrowth become established. These 
communities are botanically varied, changing quickly. Recently abandoned gar- 
den Sites are irritating to traverse, colonized by herbaceous plants which rely on 
spiky and sticky burrs to disperse their seeds, called generically kobkob by the 
Wola (e.g., Bidens pilosus, Adenostemma lavenia, Cynoglossum javanicum). 

Abandoned gardens are invaded by pioneer grasses (e.g., Arthaxon, Paspalum, 
Ischaemum, Setaria, Isachne) and herbs (Crassocephalum, Polygonum, Viola, and Ru- 
bus, among others). These flourish at the expense of the few remaining crop plants, 
finally displacing them (see Table 8, 11; 47 species were recorded in 50 m? of this 
habitat). The Wola may refer to this early mokombai phase as taengbiyp after one 
of the grasses that characterizes it. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 117 


TABLE 8. — Mokombai taengbiyp summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 

Species per 

Quadrat 

Trees 4 4 2% 

Tree Ferns 3 4 6% 

Ferns 1 1 4% 

Cane Grasses 1 1 8% 

Grasses and Herbs 15 31 24% 

Crops 5 6 22% 
Totals (in 50 m2) 29 47 


Certain crops, like sweet potato, highland pitpit (Setaria), bananas, sugar cane, 
and the coleus dye plant (Plectranthus), compet fully with the invading weeds 
and maintain their position on the site for some time. Eventually, robust and vigor- 
Ous grasses (notably Ischaemum, but also Paspalum, Arthraxon, and Isachne) take over, 
possibly with swamp grass (Leersia hexandra) in wet depressions, replacing both any 
tfemaining crop plants and many of the early weed colonizers (see Table 9, 11; 50 
species were recorded in 50 m2 of this habitat). Wola commonly refer to this later 
mokombai phase as bol, after the coarse Ischaemum grass that is predominant. 

Some garden fallows never advance beyond one or another of these stages of 
tegrowth, as people may pull up the herbaceous regrowth or coarse grasses an 
te-cultivate the sites. If natural regeneration proceeds, saplings, cane grass, OF both 
Invade (see Walker 1966 for a schematic representation of various possible se- 
quences). Perennial short grassland like that in the Eastern Highlands is uncommon, 
Probably because of the higher year round rainfall (Henty 1982), although small 
patches of ephemeral kunai grass (Imperata) occur, which the Wola call senz after 
that species, and which they exploit for house thatch. In the drier eastern regions 
of the New Guinea highlands, burning is more frequent and destructive, helping 
maintain a more extensive continuous cover of short grasses; it is not rece 
more mature than a cane grass cover nor an indication of earlier settlement an 
longer disturbance (Robbins 1960). 


TABLE 9, — Mokombai bol summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species psx’ 
Quadrat 
Trees ; 3 bi 
Tree Ferns 1 - a 
erns 1 1 39% 
Vines 2 2 6% 
Cane Grasses 1 Il ate 
Grasses and Herbs 20 38 9% 
Crops 3 3 


Totals (in 50 m2) 31 50 


118 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


Gaimb ‘cane grassland’. — In the long-term one of two major floristic successions 
will establish themselves on abandoned cultivation sites: cane grass or secondary 
forest. The Wola call communities dominated by sword or cane grass (Miscanthus 
floridulus) gaimb after that predominant species. Cane grassland, like secondary 
forest, occurs predominantly as garden regrowth, although it sometimes colonizes 
sites disturbed and deforested for other reasons. Miscanthus is an erect cane-like 
grass with robust culms. It grows in dense clumps. Its lanceolate leaves, two-three 
cm wide, have finely serrated margins and taper to sharp points. Its inflorescence 
is a large, open panicle (Henty 1969). It produces large amounts of fluffy wind- 
borne seed, well adapted to colonize disturbed locales at a distance. It is prolific, 
even when cut right back. Eradicating it when clearing a new garden, for example, 
demands levering out the rootstock clump. 

Dense stands of Miscanthus floridulus, 2-3 m high, cover large areas in valley 
basins. The quadrat survey data indicate up to 30 large clumps per 100 m? where 
it predominates. It may comprise 90% or more of the ground cover.t The cane 
forms a dense pletbok ‘thicket’ which is frequently impenetrable without a bush 
knife to cut a path. Thick brakes of fern (Dicranopteris) also occur in some locations 
among the cane, and clumps of low fern (Thelypteridaceae) are common where 
the cane is less dense. The cane is more open near homesteads where the rooting 
of pigs expose earth around the cane clumps. Even here a fair layer of leaf and 
cane stem litter builds up, supporting local assertions that under cane grass fallow 
a good layer of high organic dark topsoil suitable for recultivation soon accumu- 
lates. Miscanthus appears less readily to colonize sites close to the forest edge or 
other shaded places, which seem to reduce its competitive ability (Walker 1966). 

Other grasses that occasionally occur amongst the Miscanthus include Job’s 
Tears (Coix lachryma-jobi), wild sugar (Saccharum robustum), particularly along 
stream banks, and an “elephant grass” (Pennisetum macrostachyum) on wooded 
margins. Where the cane is more open and the soil not turned over too frequently 
by rooting pigs, low grasses (Isachne, Paspalum, Ischaemum., Sacciolepsis, Setaria) and 
various herbaceous plants (various Compositae, Desmodium, Selaginella, Oenanthe, 
Plectrantus, Rubus, Viola) may form a ground cover (see Table 10, 11; 148 species 
were recorded in 2000 m+ of this habitat). 

Cane grassland is second only in extent to montane forest and has gradually 
replaced forest as the human population has expanded. Though cane grassland ap- 
pears monotonous, floristic analysis suggests that it is a surprisingly species-rich 
succession (Figure 1). When established, cane grassland supports a few scatte 
trees, notably lower-statured, soft-wooded species such as nettles (Pipturus), ochnas 
(Schuurmansia), silkwoods (Cryptocarya), dillenias (Saurauia), and woolly cedars 
(Trema), with she-oaks (Casuarina), figs (Ficus), switchsorrels (Dodonea), parchment 
barks (Pittosporum), umbrella trees (Schefflera), and others. Stands of cultivated screw- 
pines (Pandanus) are also common, remaining from previous gardens. They 
sometimes grow in rows with palm lilies (Cordyline), marking old fence lines. The 
graceful tree fern (Cyathaceae) is common too, producing a distinctive vegetational 
succession. Wola do not distinguish this succession as a separate community, be- 
yond speaking of them as henk, the Wola life-form term for tree ferns. 

_ A Miscanthus succession generally replaces shorter grasses if a site is left un- 
disturbed, the tall cane out-competing even vigorous and persistent kunai grass 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 119 


TABLE 10. — Gaimb cane grassland summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 
Species per 
Quadrat 
Trees 30 66 20% 
Tree Ferns 7 12 33% 
Ferns 3 3 33% 
Screw-pines 1 1 35% 
Vines 16 18 17% 
Cane Grasses 1 2 68% 
Large Herbs 2 “, 23% 
Grasses and Herbs 21 38 33% 
Crops 3 3 45% 
Totals (in 2000 m2) 84 148 


TABLE 11. — Obael secondary forest summary composition. 


Growth Form Families Species Mean % of 
Species per 

Quadrat 

Trees 29 5 3% 
Tree Ferns 7 é om 
Ferns 4 : se 
Screw-pines 1 2% 
Vines 14 = 10% 
Cane Grasses 1 ’ rh 
Large Herbs : 4% 
Grasses and Herbs 19 - xa% 
Crops : : #3 


(Imperata conferta). The conditions that promote Miscanthus in competition sate 
Imperata are an absence of extensive burning, which the wet Southern Highlan : 
climate generally assures, and the presence of foraging pigs (Walker senate ie 
8tassland successional changes are due to human interference. Earth ae eee It 
can disturb plant communities, sometimes permanently if drainage 1s Oke : 
has been Suggested that some cane grassland was established during wat Se 
tocene glaciation, glacial evidence, such as moraines, existing on ae ws we 
Peaks (Walker and Flenley 1979). However, Wola attribute such changes primarily 
to their activities, as the major disturbers of vegetation. land. Grass- 
Human activity has undoubtedly extended the area under grass sg : reas 
"3 ds occur where neither climate nor soil would preclude rect patel in soil 
Srest-grassland boundaries frequently occur independently msec that 
, having No apparent relationship with them. This is taken as ite dee 
bessland is largely anthropogenic (Robbins 1960; Henty 1982). Repea e cane 
fon, Shortened fallow cycles, grass fires, and other disturbances eae al 
— following forest clearance. Environmental factors that assist seedling ; 


120 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


such as soil-plant nutrient imbalances and sub-optimal drainage conditions, also 
contribute. Wola acknowledge that they themselves are agents of the forest’s de- 
struction. Once in digging a ditch to enclose a garden in cane grassland, gnarled 
bits of beech root and tree stump were uncovered, which were readily explained 
as evidence that the area was once forest. 


Obael ‘secondary forest’. — The alternative long-term floristic succession to cane 
grass following the clearance of any area for cultivation is secondary forest. When 
plots cleared for gardens in the rainforest are abandoned they rapidly regenerate 
into patches of secondary forest , which the Wola call em obael (‘mature-regrowth 
garden’). Tree regrowth occurs too in pockets throughout the cane grassland zone. 
It has a markedly different floristic composition to montane forest. It is altogether 

of a softer aspect and less formidable. 
The obael secondary forest has a considerably lower canopy than the iyshabuw 
montane forest at 10-20 m and comprises fast growing soft-wooded trees prima- 
i (Euphorbi ), pipers (Piperaceae), nettles (Pipturus), 


the regrowth becomes more akin to cane grassland; there is no sharp distinction 
between these two vegetational communities, nor any others that pass from one 
to another. They gradually merge, as the Wola acknowledge, with no abrupt change. 

The ground cover is on the whole considerably less dense under secondary 
woodland than primary forest, consisting of various coarse and creeping grasses 
(Paspalum, Setaria, Ischaemum), and a range of herbs and shrubs (Compositae, 
Desmodium, Impatiens, Oenanthe, Plectranthus, Polygonum, Selaginella), sometimes 
growing to waist height. Ferns are also common, notably in sprays across the for- 
est floor (Thelypteridaceae) and sometimes in tangles (Pteridium, Dicranopteris); 
tall leafy herbs, notably gingers (Zingiberaceae), are frequently seen. The wildlife 
inhabiting secondary forest depends on its location. When surrounded by mon- 
tane forest, where wildlife is abundant, it is likewise plentiful. But when situated 
island-like in a sea of cane grassland, where wildlife is limited, it is sparse. How- 
ever, the fruits of some trees growing in these wooded islands are popular with 
birds and attract them here in considerable numbers when ripe. 

Areas of secondary forest rarely develop into mature wooded stands. People 
with rights to the land usually clear them again for gardens before they reach this 
stage, or otherwise hinder their development by collecting firewood and raw mate- 
rials. Near homesteads, they are sometimes disturbed by pigs rooting for food, which 
leaves patches of churned sod and vegetation across them. Nonetheless, if left un- 
disturbed, the Wola maintain that iyshabuw forest would eventually establish itself 
in these areas. Some men told me that if they abandoned their valleys, montane 
rainforest would eventually replace both obael secondary forest and gaimb cane 
grassland, to cover them just as it had before their ancestors cleared it. They spoke 
of the primary forest ‘hitting and eating’ (Iuw nokor, literally, ‘hit will eat’) these 
long-term secondary successions and ‘making them rotten’ (kor ma sokor, literally, 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 121 


‘rotten cause become’). They pointed out locations where secondary woodland and 
cane grass abut the forest and explained how with human-beings absent the mon- 
tane forest would slowly advance down the valley sides; they cited the Augu valley 
as a place where this has occurred in living memory, for with the abandonment of 
gardens there (following the establishment of administrative centers elsewhere, 
prompting people to move to be closer to them), the forest is engulfing the obael 
woodland and gaimb grassland down to the edge of the Augu river. 


VEGETATIONAL SUCCESSIONS AND CHANGE 


Changes in vegetational composition with human interference, in which the 
foregoing seral communities feature prominently, do not necessarily spell irre- 
versible degradation, with permanent reduction in species diversity and biomass, 
at least not in the long run. While there is piecemeal destruction of forest to estab- 
lish new gardens, this may be interpreted as the start of a long term chain involving 
garden and houseyard sites, which may pass through a series of successions upon 
abandonment to become cane grass and/or secondary forest regrowth, even ma- 
ture forest if left long enough, although more likely they are disturbed again at 
some time relatively early in their progression towards maturity. The different 
plant communities recognized by the Wola relate to a presumed floristic succes- 
sional pattern, a development relationship existing between the various 
anthropogenic communities and the unaltered forest and other communities (Fig- 
ure 1). These data also belie the assumption that secondary successions are 
floristically degenerate, mature ones approaching primary forest in species rich- 
ness; the Shannon and equitability indices support this conclusion (Table 12). While 
humans have contributed to deforestation and the spread of ecological disclimax 
vegetation, their activities do not necessarily result in a one-way change nor long 
term degradation, at least according to Wola experience and perceptions. 

The assumption that a floristic succession characterizes changes ba ae 
communities informs Wola thinking, who maintain that over time disturbed - 
Passes through a series of named successions; this assumption also imp licitly vt 

orms the structure of this paper. A statistical assessment of similarity between : 
vegetational communities distinguished further supports the postulated seaswer 
sional.” The cluster dendrogram sequence (Figure 2) groups together = eae 
Sites under cultivation, together with those under early abandoned vegetation, : 
similar in composition, in contrast to primary forest and advanced secondary sod 
cessions under trees and cane grass, with bogland and rocky outcrop ie dis- 
Separated as quite different (a multidimensional scaling analysis mappe 

tances similarly). 

It 'S More difficult to appreciate Wola perceptions of the ch and simi- 
, ities cause to vegetation communities, although the species seen arently, 
"tl svidence hints at their views and lends them some eee 23 associa- 
ney do not think of themselves as irrevocably destroying virgin Pp 

n ch ag different plant communities which they distinguish hi dicator species 
eiatively ill-defined categories. While they cite certain plants as “ ane 
ae “rent communities, even naming some of them after these preaom ase 

* 8aimb for cane grassland and bol for coarse grass 


anges which their 
acti 


regrowth), th 


122 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


justify their identification of communities in terms of certain proportions of speci- 
fied plants occurring there. This approach to community definition characterizes 
ecological science. It is used in this paper to achieve a more precise characteriza- 
tion of plant communities as identified by the Wola. While there is some broad 
correspondence, local and scientific ideas of botanical and ecological zones over- 


FIGURE 1. — Species richness and characteristic taxa of climax and seral commu- 
nities, according to relative time-succession order. 


haenbora 
pa 
ma em 
iyshabuw 
em gemb 
hokay em 1 
hokay em 2-4 
hokay em 5+ 
tangbiyp 
bol 


gaimb 


VEGETATION COMMUNITIES: TIME/SUCCESSION 


obael 


400 120 140 160 180 
NO. SPECIES 


Checklist of taxa characteristic of each community in the development sequence 


Haenbora Eulalia, Imperata, Spathoglottis, Pteridium 

Pa Leersia, Panicum, Oenanthe, Isachne, Ischaemum, Cyperus, Kyllinga 
Maem Colocasia, Crassocephalum, Nasturtium, Amaranthus, Viola 
Iyshabuw Nothofagus, Ficus, Garcinia, Saurauia, Lithocarpus, Castanopsis 


sis, 
Elaeocarpus, Dicksonia, Alpinia, Cyclosorus, Racemobambos, Freycinetia, 
Polystichum, Phyllanthus, Cyrtandra, Cyphlophus. 
Em gemb Various crops, Setaria, Oenanthe, Bidens, Paspalum, Polygonum 
Hokay em 1 Ipomoea, some crops, Bidens, Centella, Cynoglossum, Polygonum 
Hokay em 2-4 Ipomoea, Adenostemma, Crassocephalum, Isachne, Polygala, Viola 
Hokayem5+ —_ Ipomoea, Arthraxon, Paspalum, Polygonum, Bidens 


Taengbiyp Arthraxon, Adenostemma, Rubus, Cynoglossum, Paspalum, Viola 

Bol Ischaemum, Isachne, Pouzolzia, Paspalum, Polygala, Polygonum 

Gaimb Miscanthus, Blumea, Centella, Cyathea, Cyclosorus, Desmodium, 
Plectranthus, Schuurmansia, Selaginella, Oenanthe, Bidens 

Obael Trema, Piper, Cryptocarya, Dodonea, Saurauia, Pipturus, Pittosporum, 


Desmodium, Garnotia, Impatiens, Miscanthus, Paspalum, Plectranthus, 
Polygonum, Selaginella, Sphaerostephanos 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 123 


TABLE 12. — Shannon (H’) and equitability (E) indices for vegetation 
communities (for definitions see Note 3). 


H’ E 
lyshabuw * primary forest’ 3.80 0.74 
Pa ‘swampland’ 1.70 0.48 
Ma em ‘taro garden’ 2.83 0.74 
Haenbora ‘rockland’ 0.56 0.19 
Em gemb ‘houseyard garden’ 3.15 0.79 
Em garden (planted 1x) 2.70 0.67 
Em garden (planted 2-4x) 2.67 0.68 
Em garden (planted 5x or more) 1.96 0.59 
Mokombai taengbiyp recent regrowth 2.68 0.70 
Mokombai bol recent regrowth 1.29 0.33 
Gaimb ‘cane grassland’ 3.77 0.75 
Obael ‘secondary forest’ 3.42 0.69 

Dissimilarity 
0.6 0 0.8 0.9 1.0 


em-gemb 


ma-em 


FIGURE 2. — Dendrogram of similarity measures. 


124 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


lapping substantially (as noted repeatedly by ethnographers for other 
ethnoscientific domains), we should not allow this to obscure differences. The Wola 
acquire and apply this knowledge in a more informal and practical way. They 
know it without needing to identify consciously and count plants. Their catego- 
ries are also open to negotiation and are not precise. The seral communities pass 
one into another, as do different virgin communities, with no discontinuous breaks. 
If people are asked to justify their identification of communities they may dis- 
agree, particularly if in a transition phase, for example where soft wooded obael 
trees and gaimb sword grass occur in large numbers, or where a patch of heavily 
disturbed albeit uncultivated iyshabuw montane forest supports many plants char- 
acteristic of obael secondary forest. 

The iyshabuw lower montane forest and gaimb cane grass regrowth are the two 
vegetational communities that predominate across the Wola region, covering over 
ninety eight per cent of the area (Map 2). The other communities are small in com- 
parison. These statistics may under-represent the area covered by some of these 
smaller communities,’ being calculated from large scale maps and aerial photo- 
graphs,’ supplemented by my own limited observations. Detailed work in more 
restricted areas indicates nonetheless that these overall figures are of the correct 
order. A sizeable swampy area to the east of the locale of Haelaelinja in the Was 
valley, covers for example about 0.6 km? which, while a noticeable part of the local 
territory on which it occurs, is too small to show up ina survey of all Wolaland and 
makes no difference to the percentage given for this vegetational ty for the 
entire region, comprising only 0.02% of it (Map 3).8 Detailed data on areas under 
cultivation on the territories of two neighbouring semonda communities in the 
Haelaelinja region (population of approximately 300 persons) indicate that they only 
cover small areas too, 1% of these communities’ territories. The local territories in 
the Was valley region also include considerably larger areas of lower montane 
rainforest than average, other territories elsewhere have more grassland, swamp, 
and so on. In his study of LANDSAT imagery for example, Radcliffe (1986:28-29) 
found that only 39% (125.4 km?) of the Upper Mendi region is under rainforest, 
whereas 15% (45.7 km?) of it is under wetland vegetation,’ and cane grassland com- 
prises the balance, covering 46% (144.6 km?) of the area. In summary, while closer 
study of more limited areas reveals predictable variation between territories across 
Wolaland, the broad picture is one of forest and cane grassland communities pre- 
dominating, with patches of other vegetational communities dotted about them. 

__ Whatever the exact developmental relationship between vegetational succes- 
sions and the long-term extent of montane forest regeneration, Wola subsistence 
gardening does not appear to be overly destructive of the forest environment, at 
least in the short-run. Their region has large areas of forest intact regardless of 
their apparent lack of any manifest conservation ethic; some 52% of their region is 
under primary forest (the percentage rising to over 80% on less heavily populated 
territories). And comparison of aerial photographs taken over part of their region 
by the U.S.A.F. in 1948 with more recent ones suggests that no marked increase 
has occurred in forest destruction over the last forty years or so. During this time 
more efficient steel tools have | ‘lable. makine cl hat easier, 
and administrative control extended over the area, with the introduction of health 
Services resulting in a spurt of population growth (Radcliffe 1986:29). The dra- 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 125 


RY RNP EN TT 

_. Montane forest (including 

‘3,6 patches of regrowth plus 
a few gardens) 


x year | 
at i a a 


Secondary regrowth (primarily 
cane grass) and gardens 


RE i ee 


w “ Swampy (plus a few gardens) 


MAP 3. — Map of the vegetation of Aenda and Ebay semonda territory. 


matic increase in rates of labor migration out of the region over the last decade, on 
the other hand, suggests that pressure on forest resources is not increasing mark- 
edly, and may even decline. 


ee them 


The Wola destroy montane forest, steady population expansion obliging 
to clear new land, but they are not indifferent in doing so. Their belief in the pres- 
ence of demons reveals a tension. Cle has been gradual and restrained. When 
they destroy forest to establish new gardens, they usually do so on the fringes of 
the forest, eating slowly into it from already settled areas. Human activity has 


already interfered with the forest here, in collecting firewood, raw materials, and 
and less disturbed for- 


t the forest edges, 
ive forested tracts have 


ghi 
Their popula- 
some of the more 


Aoncely 
#4 


ons’ vegetational communi 


€s. There is more at issue than numbers of people. Cultural factors, such as 


126 SILLITOE Vol. 18, No. 1 


cultivation practices, even beliefs in demons, may also play a part, as the Maring 
data suggest (Rappaport 1968; Clarke 1971; Healey 1990). The Maring, who havea 
slightly higher mean population density than the Wola, have about one-third of 
their region under anthropogenic vegetation, a substantial part of which is ad- 
vanced secondary forest and woodland. It appears that the Maring environment 
and agricultural practices have less profoundly altered vegetation cover and not 
so significantly deflected successions from reverting back to montane forest. The 
Wola seem to engender more extensive, longer term transformation of vegetation 
from forest to stabilized cane grassland. 

The Wola cultivate areas under secondary woodland or cane grass far more 
often than they farm virgin forest sites; for example, only 8% of 293 gardens sur- 
veyed in the Was valley were on sites under primary forest before cultivation. It is 
both supernaturally safer and physically easier to clear secondary regrowth. Also, 
having only stone tools for most of their history, would have restrained Wola for- 
est clearance. Though over many centuries their ancestors cleared large areas in 
their main valleys. The natural resource base should not be overlooked. The soil 
resources of this montane environment are critical, supporting an intensive culti- 
vation regime, which on some sites amounts to a semi-continuous system (Floyd 
et al. 1988). At the population densities involved in the Highlands, other less fer- 
tile soils would have led to far more forest destruction, under the resulting extensive 
shifting agricultural regime. The Wola are not innate conservationists, nor are they 
wanton destroyers of forest, as depicted by opp ts of shifting cultivation (FAO- 
SIDA 1974; Watters 1971). Their relationship with natural vegetation is more elusive 
and indeterminate. 


NOTES 


‘IT particularly thank Wenja Muwiy, Ind Kuwliy and Mayka Haebay for their help in this 
work, and also Wenja Neleb, for | depended heavily on their } ledge of the plants grow 
ing in their region. 


o 


*Palynological evidence supports this view, indicating that Nothofagus, an ancient genus, 
migrated rapidly to higher elevations in Papua New Guinea as the climate warmed during 
the Pleistocene, establishing extensive beech forests which other genera then gradually 
invaded to give today’s mixed montane forest (Walker 1970; Hope 1976). 


s 
*The Shannon index of diversity H’ = ¥ pjlog.p; where s = number of species 
i=1 
and p, = proportion of total sample belonging to the ith species. The index of equitability E 


is calculated from E = H’ / log.s 


*The clumps themselves comprise large numbers of individual cane stems, on average 70 
green and 43 dead stems per clump, ranging from 20 to 156 green and 12 to 123 dry stems 
(n=20 clumps, selected by random stone throws). 


°The cluster analysis uses the following equation as a measure of similarity: 


n. 
(1/ np 1x.- Xu 1) XK - Xe) 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 127 


. : . heaps ‘i — metric (Digby and Kempton 1987), proposed by D. 
o account not just presence or absence of 

A species but also their rela- 

te frequencies. [am grateful to D. Wooff of Durham University’s Mathematical Scie S 

epartment for assistance with this similarity measure. a 


Not 
: nad se, ep “hal small-sized areas under some of these less extensive vegetational 
mm s which, occurring in one of the two major communities, a re ‘lost’ because 


below 
the minimal size represented at the gross scale of this reconnaissance. 


7C.S.LR.O. (1965) Forest T 
ypes map; Radcliffe (1986:28); Papua New Guinea 1:100,000 to- 
pographic maps; and R.A.A.F. (1959) 1:35,000 aerial pe : 


8This swampy area occurs 0 
n the territory of a semonda neighboring those documented i 
in 
the right hand column of Table 1 and hence is omitted from the abe 


*The region surveyed included within it the large Kombie swamp. 


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Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):129-136 Summer 1998 


RECENT DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS 
OF INTEREST TO ETHNOBIOLOGISTS Xv 


TERENCE E. HAYS 
Department of Anthropology and Geography 
Rhode Island College 
Providence, RI 02908 USA 


ABSTRACT. — This bibliography includes recent dissertations of interest to 
ethnobiologists. For each is given the page number where it may be found in 
Dissertation Abstracts (D.A.) and the order number for dissertation copies from 
University Microfilm International, P.O. Box 1764, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106- 
1346 U.S.A. (Telephone: 1-800-521-3042; 1-800-343-5299 from Canada). 


RESUMEN. — En este bibliografia se incluyen disertaci tes de interés a 
los etnobidlogos. Por cada uno se da el ntimero de la pagina donde se halla el 
resumen en Dissertation Abstracts (D.A.), y el ntimero de encargar un ejemplar 
de la disertacién de University Microfilm International, P.O. Box 1764, Ann Arbor, 
MI 48106-1346 USA (telefono: 1-800-521-3042; desde Canada 1-800-343-5299). 


RESUME. — Cette bibliographie comprend quelques dissertationes recentes 
d'interet aux ethnobiologistes. Chez chaqu-une on donne le numéro de la page 
ou se trouve le résumé dans Dissertation Abstracts (D.A.), et le numéro de 
commander un exemplaire de la dissertations de University Microfilm 
International, P.O. Box 1764, Ann Arbor, MI 48106-1346 USA (telephone: 1-800- 
521-3042; de Canada 1-800-343-5299). 


INTRODUCTION 


This is the fifteenth in an annual series of bibliographies listing selected — 
drawn from the pages of Dissertation Abstracts (D.A.). All listings es — ne eipti 
the titles and abstracts published in D.A. and making subjecti : logical anthro 
oni be relevant to work in ethnobiol gy or related di sae ; . 

Pology and economic botany. i - 

Dissertations categorized in D.A. under Agricultural Economics, ey eee 
can Studies, Anthropology, Botany, Ecology, Environmental Sciences, Folklore, log Pas 
Health Science, Home Economics, Language, Linguistics, P alaeobotany, —_ pickin 
leozool ogy, Palynology, Sociology, and Zoology were considered for inclusion “¢ He a 

attempt was made to be as inclusive as possible, but some dissertations si de in next 
©verlooked. Comments and suggestions would be welcome for items to Inctu 
year’s edition. ities and Social Sci- 

Dates covered by the present paper include: Volume A Lome ne g): September 

hich the abstracts 


lves. 
thor, along with the ord of 
in 
DAY itle, instituti i j sor, number(s) of the page(s 
D Ptance, title, institution, length, adviser or major akepacree De ares ad the 
ISB number tiie 
when this information was included. Sad 
. Most of the dissertations accepted at institutions in the dines oe tenon 
se from Australia, Canada, South Africa, and the United Kingdo 


130 HAYS Vol. 18, No. 1 


from University Microfilms International, P.O. Box 1764, Ann Arbor, MI 48106-1346, either 
on microfilm or published by microfilm xerography. Quality of printed matter is generally 
excellent, but that of figures and photographs varies with the quality of the original. Cur- 
rent prices may be obtained by calling 1-800-521-3042; or 1-800-343-5299 from Canada. 
Further information and current prices, as well as information regarding how to order 
dissertations listed above with no UMI order number, may be obtained from UMI Disser- 
tation Services, 300 North Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, MI 48106-1346, USA. 

Abstracts of the dissertations listed below as well as all others included in D.A. are 
now available online, with the full text of abstracts published since July 1980. This service 
is updated monthly, and includes UMI's entire dissertation database back to 1861. For fur- 
ther information regarding Dissertation Abstracts Online or Dissertation Abstracts Ondisc 
(CD-ROM) consult your local research librarian or UMI at the address given above regard- 
ing orders. 


DISSERTATIONS 


AMOROSI, THOMAS. 1996. Icelandic zooarchaeology: New data applied to issues of his- 
torical ecology, paleoeconomy and global change. City University of New York, 1303 
pp. Adviser: Thomas H. McGovern. Order no. DA9707064. D.A. 57(9):4000-4001-A. 

ARCHAMBAULT, MARIE-FRANCE. 1995. Le milieu biophysique et l’adaptation humaine 
entre 10 000 et 3 000 AA autour de l’embouchure du Saguenay, Céte Nord du Saint- 
Laurent. University of Montreal (Canada), 942 pp. Directeurs: Norman Clermont; 
Patrick Plumet. ISBN: 0-612-08495-7. Order no. DANN08495. D.A. 57(4):1701-A. 

BAYALAMA, SYLVAIN. 1995. Deforestation and development in the Congo Basin. Uni- 
versity of Denver, 274 pp. Order no. DA9620994. D.A. 57(3):1689-B. 

BERTI, PETER ROBERT. 1996. Dietary adequacy and its relationship to anthropometric sta- 
tus in a Highland Ecuadorian community. University of Guelph (Canada), 209 pp. 
Adviser: Wm. Leonard. ISBN:0-612-09655-6. Order no. DANNO09655. D.A. 57(6):3663-B. 

BIGELOW, NANCY HORNER. 1997. Late Quaternary vegetation and lake level changes 
in central Alaska. University of Alaska Fairbanks, 212 pp. Advisers: Mary E. Edwards; 
W. Roger Powers. Order no. DA9722773. D.A. 58(2):605-B. 

BIRMINGHAM, DEIRDRE MARY. 1996. Local knowled ge of soils: The case of contrast in 
Cote d’Ivoire and its considerations for extension. The University of Wisconsin-Madi- 
son, 195 pp. Supervisor: J. Lin Compton. Order no. DA9613345. D.A. 57(3):1198-A. 

BLAND, RICHARD L. 1996. The Chaluka site and its implications for subsistence regimes 
in the Aleutian Islands. University of Oregon, 292 pp. Order no. DA9626106. D.A. 
57(4):1701-1702-A. 

BOFFA, JEAN-MARC JACQUES. 1995. Productivity and management of agroforestry 
parklands in the Sudan zone of Burkina Faso, West Africa. Purdue University, 101 pp. 
Major Professor: Douglas M. Knudson. Order no. DA9622671. D.A. 57(3):1527-B. 

BOISCHIO, ANA AMELIA PEIXOTO. 1996. Human ecology of the riverine people (caboclos 
or ribeirinhos) along the upper Madeira River with focus on mercury pollution through 
fish consumption. Indiana Uni ersity, 285 pp. Chairman: Diane S. Henshel. Order no. 
DA9627366. D.A. 57(4):2447-B. 

BOZARTH, STEVEN RAY. 1996. Pollen and opal phytolith evidence of prehistoric agricul- 
ture and wild plant utilization in the lower Verde River Valley, Arizona. University of 
Kansas, 428 pp. Order no. DA9637304. D.A. 57(7):4271-B. 

BRANDT, KARI LEIGH. 1996. The effects of early agriculture on native North American 
populations: Evidence from the teeth and skeleton. The University of Michigan, 175 pp. 
Co-Chairs: B. Holly Smith; John D. Speth. Order no. DA9635491. D.A. 57(6):2548-A. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 131 


BRONDIZIO, EDUARDO SONNEWEND. 1996. Forest farmers: Human and landscape 
ecology of caboclo populations in the Amazon estuary. Indiana University, 483 pp. 
Adviser: Emilio F. Moran. Order no. DA9640108. D.A. 57(7):4275-B. 

BRUNSWIG, ROBERT HENRY, JR. 1996. Pal i tal and cultural change i th 
eastern Colorado’s Late Archaic through Middle Ceramic periods. University of 
Colorado at Boulder, 498 pp. Director: Douglas B. Bamforth. Order no. DA9717561. 
D.A. 57(12):5198-A. 

BUCK, BRENDA JEAN. 1996. Late Quaternary landscape evolution, paleoclimate, and 
geoarchaeology, southern New Mexico and west Texas. New Mexico State University, 
381 pp. Chair: H. Curtis Monger. Order no. DA9630156. D.A. 57(5):3103-B. 

BURKY, RICHARD R. 1996. Radiocarbon dating archaeologically significant bone using 
the uni : 4 os am lake | ne : * 3 (a) Acmbeals | lors 


(aminomalonate). University of California, Riverside, 108 pp. Chair: R.E. Taylor. Or- 
der no. DA9713895. D.A. 57(11):4797-A. 

CAHOON, KATHERINA SCHMID. 1996 Systemati d origins of Cucurbita pepo gourd 
from the lower Mississippi River Valley. Washington University, 183 pp. Chair: Bar- 
bara A. Schaal. Order no. DA9632165. D.A. 57(5):2981-B. 

CARLIN, LESLIE ELLEN. 1996. Vitamin A deficiency and food habits of rural West Java, 
Indonesia. University of Pennsylvania, 170 pp. Order no. DA9712901. D.A. 57(11):4808- 


CASTELLON, MICHAEL JOSEPH. 1996. Dynamics of deforestation: Q’eqchi’-Maya colo- 
nists in Guatemala’s Sierra de las Minas, 1964-1995. The University of 
Wisconsin-Madison, 291 pp. Adviser: William M. Denevan. Order no. DA9708840. D.A. 
57(12):5256-5257-A. 

CHRISTIDOU, ALEXANDRA. 1996. Neolithic Boiotia: Environment and settlements, 
economy and society as evid d from the archaeological record. University = a9 
tado at Boulder, 351 pp. Director: H. Tzavella-Evjen. Order no. DA9709476. D.A. 
97(10):4422-4423-A. : 

CHURCH, WARREN BROOKS. 1996. Prehistoric cultural development and interregional 
interaction in the tropical montane forests of Peru. Yale University, 895 pp. Director: 
Richard L. Burger. Order no. DA9712763. D.A. 57(11):4798-A. 

DAVIES, EVAN TYLER. 1996. Guardians of the embers: A cultural geography of land use 
and land tenure among the BaAka Pygmies of Central Africa. Rice pre 
Chairs: Steven A. Tyler; George E. Marcus, Order no. DA9631054. D.A.5 ( : ; se 

DAVIS, STANLEY DREW. 1996. The archaeology of the Yakutat Foreland: A ag fe - 
9 Texas A & M University, 611 pp. Chair: Michael Waters. Order no. . 

-A. 58(1):199-200-A. 

DEAN, eae ADELE. 1995. Systematics and ethnobotany of seh Ap 
Meizonodontae. University of California, Berkeley, 309 pp. Chair: Thomas 
der no. DA9621111. D.A. 57(3):1556-1557-B. 

DECHER, JAN. 1996, Ecology and conservation of small m 
hy Plains of Ghana. University of Minnesota, 150 pp. 

4):2293-B. : 

PeBUNCE, LINCOLN ANDREW. 1996. Cultural changes in horticultural apa = 
high island of Kosrae, Micronesia. University of Oregon, 305 pp. Order no. 

de . 97(7):3188-A. . J ; j d fields of the 

DA, DIEGO SANCHEZ. 1996. Heat and moisture dy sia? eS 
Lake Titicaca region, Bolivia. Cornell University, 186 pp. Adviser: Philippe Bavey 
Order no. DA9624877. D.A. 57(3):1512-B. 


ammal communities on the 
Order no. DA9627807. D.A. 


132 HAYS Vol. 18, No. 1 


DERING, JAMES PHILIP. 1996. Dynamic variation in agricultural practices during the Clas- 
sic period in the Tonto Basin, Arizona. Texas A & M University, 272 pp. Chair: Vaughn 
M. Bryant, Jr. Order no. DA9634728. D.A. 57(6):2542-A. 

DONG, ZHUAN. 1996. Looking into Peking Man’s subsistence: A taphonomic analysis of 
the Middle Pleistocene Homo erectus site in China. Indiana University, 328 pp. Ad- 
viser: Nicholas P. Toth. Order no. DA9637519. D.A. 57(7):3091-3092-A. 

DORSEY, BRYAN SPENCE. 1996. Diversified agricultural production: A path to smallholder 
prosperity and improved food security in Central Kenya. University of Colorado at Boul- 
der, 282 pp. Director: Gary L. Gaile. Order no. DA9709485. D.A. 57(10):4490-4491-A. 

EDLUND, ERIC GUSTAF. 1996. Late Quaternary environmental history of montane for- 
ests of the Sierra Nevada, California. University of California, Berkeley, 163 pp. Chair: 
Roger Byrne. Order no. DA9703108. D.A. 57(9):5550-B. 

ELS, HERMAN. 1996. The utilisation of renewable natural resources among the 
“Vanhlanganu-Mnisi” of the Mhala district. University of Pretoria (South Africa), 1 
pp. [sic] Supervisor: R.D. Coertze. [no Order no.] D.A. 57(9):4005-4006-A. 

FARLEY, CARY SCOTT. 1996. Smallholder knowled ge, soil g t and land 

hange in the highlands of southwest Uganda. University of Florida, 334 pp. Chair- 
man: Edward Malecki. Order no. DA9709233. D.A. 57(10):4491-A. 

FAUST, DAVID ROBERT. 1996. Ecological restoration in rural India: The contribution of 
NGOs to participatory natural resource management. University of Minnesota, 259 
pp. Adviser: Joseph E. Schwartzberg. Order no. DA9700935. D.A. 57(8):3625-A. 

FITZHUGH, J. BENJAMIN. 1996. The evolution of complex hunter-gatherers in the North 
Pacific: An archaeological case study from Kodiak Island, Alaska. The University of 
Michigan, 455 pp. Chair: John D. Speth. Order no. DA9711963. D.A. 57(11):4798-A. 

FREIDBERG, SUSANNE ELIZABETH. 1996. Making a living: A social history of market- 
garden work in the regional economy of Bobo-Dioulasso, Burkina Faso. University of 
California, Berkeley, 317 pp. Chair: Michael J. Watts. Order no. DA9703119. D.A. 
57(8):3625-A. 

GRANTHAM, BILLY J. 1996. A zooarchaeological model for the study of ethnic complex- 
ity at Sepphoris. Northwestern University, 248 pp. Adviser: Gil Stein. Order no. 
DA9632694. D.A. 57(6):2542-A. 

GREAVES, RUSSELL DEAN, 1997. Ethnoarchaeological investigation of subsistence mo- 
bility, resource targeting, and technological organization among Pumé foragers of 
Venezuela. The University of New Mexico, 387 pp. Order no. DA9720482. D.A. 
58(1):200-A. 

GREENBERG, BRIAN L. 1997. An ecology of “harm” and “healing”: Agricultural intensifi- 
cation and landscape transformation in the Western Himalayas. The University of 
Chicago, 536 pp. Adviser: Raymond Fogelson. Order no. DA9720041. D.A. 58(1):203-A. 

GURUNG, OM PRASAD. 1996. Customary systems of natural gement among 
Tarami Magars of western Nepal. Cornell University, 357 pp. Order no. DA9639646. 
D.A. 57(7):3096-A. 

GUTIERREZ, YOLANDA MONROY. 1995. Cultural factors affecting diet and pregnancy 
outcome of Mexican-American adolescents. University of California, Berkeley, 168 pp. 
Chair: Margarita B. Melville. Order no. DA9621158. D.A. 57(3):1718-B. 

HABU, JUNKO. 1996. Subsistence-settlement systems and intersite variability in the 
Moroiso phase of the early Jomon period of Japan. McGill University (Canada), 472 
pp. Adviser: Fumiko Ikawa-Smith. ISBN: 0-612-12381-2. Order no. DANN12381. D.A. 
57(10):4423-A. 

HAY, RODRICK AIRD. 1996. Applications of AVHRR data and mixture modelling to esti- 
mate forest and range burning in West Africa: The Gambia. The University of Arizona, 
172 pp. Director: Stuart E. Marsh. Order no. DA9626512. D.A. 57(4):1784-A. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 133 


HIDALGO-MONROY WOHLGEMUTH, NEUSA. 1996 Organic agricult d indigenous 
communities in Chiapas, Mexico: An alternative to rural development. University of 
California, Berkeley, 160 pp. Chair: Bernard Q. Nietschmann. Order no. DA9723017. 
D.A. 58(2):546-A. 

HINSHIRANAN, NARUMAN. 1996. The analysis of Moken opportunistic foragers’ intra- 
group and intergroup relations. University of Hawaii, 231 pp. Chairperson: Jack Bilmes. 
Order no. DA9629828. D.A. 57(5):2111-A. 

HOFFMANN, WILLIAM ARTHUR. 1996. The role of fire in the population dynamics of 
woody plants of the Brazilian cerrado. Harvard University, 183 pp. Adviser: Otto T. 
Solbrig. Order no. DA9631638. D.A. 57(5):3002-B. 

HOLTZMAN, JON DAVID. 1996. Transformations in Samburu domestic economy: The 
reconstitution of age and gender-based processes of production and resource alloca- 
tion among a Kenyan “pastoral” people. The University of Michigan, 294 pp. Chair: 
Conrad Kottak. Order no. DA9711987. D.A. 57(11):4801-A. 

HOSTETTLER, UELI. 1996. Milpa agriculti d ic diversificati i i 
change in a Maya peasant society of central Quintana Roo, 1900-1990s. Universitaet 
Bern (Switzerland), 405 pp. Director: Hans-Rudolf Wicker. Order no. DA9701056. D.A. 
57(8):3561-3562-A. 

HOVELSRUD-BRODA, GRETE K. 1997. The seal: Integration of an East Greenlandic 
economy. Brandeis University, 356 pp. Adviser: Robert C. Hunt. Order no. DA9718574. 
D.A. 58(1):204-A. 

HUDECEK-CUFFE, CAROLINE ROSE. 1996. Engendering Northern Plains Paleoindian 
archaeology: Decision-making and gender / les in subsist d sett! Feral 
egies. University of Alberta (Canada), 359 pp. Adviser: Raymond LeBlanc. ISBN: 
0-612-10596-2. Order no. DANN10596. D.A. 57(7):3092-A. o 

JORGENSEN, ERIC EDWARD. 1996. Small mammal and herpetofauna communities and 
habitat associations in foothills of the Chihuahuan Desert. Texas Tech University, 203 
Pp. Chairperson: Stephen Demarais. Order no. DA9623827. D.A. 57(3):1530-B. 

KANKAANPAA, JARMO KALEVI. 1996. Thule subsistence. Brown University, 321 pp. 
Order no. DA9704051. D.A. 57(9):4002-A. : 

KATAOKA, OSAMU. 1996. Prehistoric and historic faunal utilization in Pohnpei: An eco- 
logical and ethnoarchaeological understanding. University of Oregon, 398 pp. Order 
no. DA9714493. D.A. 57(11):4799-A. ‘ 

KESSE, JAMES ROBERT. 1996. The cultural ecology of NGO development in upper Canar, 
Ecuador. The University of Arizona, 272 pp. Director: Leland R. Pederson. Order no. 
DA9626480. D.A. 57(4 :1784-1785-A. ‘ 

KLENCK, JOEL DAVID, i Animals in the Canaanite cultic milieu: The zooarchaeological 
evidence from Tel Haror, Israel. Order no. DA9710498. D.A. 57(10):4423-A. : 

KLUCAS, ERIC EUGENE. 1996. The village larder: Village level production and ss atin 
. an early state. The University of Arizona, 333 pp. Director: Carol Kramer. Order no. 

A9626479. D.A. 57(4):1704-A. : 

KNELLER, MARGARET eee Paleoclimate from the last glacial maximum — 
Present: Pollen and plant macrofossil records from the U.S. southeast sein on 
a Goddard Institute for Space Studies General Calculation Model simula sagen 
bia University, 265 pp. Co-Sponsors: Dorothy Peteet; David Rind. ater 10 
D.A. 57(9):5551-B. inn of Coe 

ER, ELIZABETH ANN. 1996. Temporal change and patch dynamics of Cos 
tropical d £ : rate scultural landsc p ce] Z 
thermal ne University of Georgia, 133 pp. Director: C. Ronald Carroll. Order no 
DA9636461, D.A. 57(7):4162-B. 


Cc 


ta Rican 
namaoan 


DeLIOCU 


134 HAYS Vol. 18, No. 1 


KUSATMAN, BERRIN. 1992. The origins of pig domestication with particular reference to 
the Near East. University of London, University College (United Kingdom), 452 pp. 
Order no. DA9623229. D.A. 57(3):1196-1197-A. 

LAIRD, KATHLEEN RUTH. 1996. A high-resolution paleoclimatic record of a closed-basin 
lake in the Northern Great Plains. University of Minnesota, 135 pp. Adviser: Herbert 
E. Wright, Jr. Order no. DA9635871. D.A. 57(7):4270-B. 

LEVESQUE, ANDRE JACQUES. 1995. Late-glacial climate and vegetation change in At- 
lantic Canada. The University of New Brunswick, 187 pp. Adviser: L.C. Cwynar. 
ISBN:0-612-06933-8. Order no. DANN06933. D.A. 57(3):1680-B. 

LYCETT, MARK THOMAS. 1995. Archaeological implications of European contact: De- 
mography, settlement, and land use in the Middle Rio Grande Valley, New Mexico. 
The University of New Mexico, 760 pp. Adviser: Lewis R. Binford. Order no. 
DA9622202. D.A. 57(3):1197-A. 

MABULLA, ANDAX Z.P. 1996. Middle and Later Stone Age land use and lithic technology 
in the Eyasi Basin, Tanzania. University of Florida, 537 pp. Chair: Steven A. Brandt. 
Order no. DA9709269. D.A. 57(10):4424-A. 

MARTIN, GARY JOHN. 1996. Comparative ethnobotany of the Chinantec and Mixe of the 
Sierra Norte, Oaxaca, Mexico. University of California, Berkeley, 960 pp. Chair: Brent 
Berlin. Order no. DA9723102. D.A. 58(2):499-A. 

MARTIN, STEVE LYNN. A dietary reconstruction for the Virgin River Branch Anasazi: 
Subsistence in a marginal envi t. University of California, Los Angeles, 154 pp. 
Chair: C. Rainer Berger. Order no. DA9711554. D.A. 57(11):4799-A. 

McCUTCHEON, ALLISON. 1996. Ethnopharmacology of western North American plants 
with special focus on the genus Artemisia L. The University of British Columbia 
(Canada), 463 pp. Adviser: G.H.N. Towers. ISBN:0-612-09129-5. Order no. DANNO09129. 
D.A. 57(6):3505-B. 

MONAHAN, CHRISTOPHER MICHAEL.1996. Variability in the foraging behavior of early 
Homo: A taphonomic perspective from Bed II, Olduvai Gorge, Tanzania. The Univer- 
sity of Wisconsin-Madison, 410 pp. Supervisor: Henry T. Bunn. Order no. DA9625791. 
D.A. 57(5):2106-A. 

NEWALL, PETER RAYMOND. 1996. Fish distributions in the St. Croix River Basin: The 
importance of ecoregions versus local ecological conditions. The University of Wis- 
consin-Madison, 293 pp. Supervisor: James C. Knox. Order no. DA9616511. D.A. 
57(3):1271-A. 

NIAZI, MOHAMMED TARIQUE. 1997. Ecological bases of social violence in Pakistan. 
The University of Wisconsin-Madison, 198 pp. Supervisor: William R. Freudenburg. 
Order no. DA9711793. D.A. 57(12):7431-7432-B. 

NOBMANN, ELIZABETH ANN. 1996. Diet among Siberian Yup’iks of Alaska and the 
implications for cardiovascular disease. University of Alaska Fairbanks, 305 pp- Or 
der no. DA9632227. D.A. 57(6):3666-B. 

O'BRIEN, WILLIAM EUGENE. 1996. Constructing the problem of “slash-and-burn” agt!- 
culture. Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, 312 pp. Chair: John O- 
Browder. Order no. DA9638631. D.A. 57(7):3189-A. 

PETERS, DAI HUNG. 1996. Human dimensions of natural resources management: ACase 
study of the Ranomafana National Park, Madagascar. North Carolina State Univer- 
sity, 179 pp. Director: Jan G. Laarman. Order no. DA9624988. D.A. 57(3):1533-B. 

PINTAR, ELIZABETH LUCIA. 1996. Prehistoric holocene adaptation to the salt puna of 
northwest Argentina. Southern Methodist University, 254 pp. Adviser: David J. Meltzer. 
Order no. DA9628671. D.A. 57(4):1705-A. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 135 


POKINES, JAMES TIMOTHY. 1997. Microfaunal indicators of paleoenvironment from E] 
Juyo (Santander, Spain). The University of Chicago, 537 pp. Adviser: Leslie G. Free- 
man. Order no. DA9720058. D.A. 58(1):201-A. 

POMEROY, MARSHA E. 1996. Fifty-four years of change in the stand structure and spe- 
cies composition of rainforests in the western Ghats of India. Boston University, 318 
pp- Major Professor: Richard B. Primack. Order no. DA9622615. D.A. 57(3):1578-B. 

RANKAMA, TUJJA KRISTIINA. 1996. Prehistoric riverine adaptations in subarctic Finn- 
ish Lappland: The Temo River drainage. Brown University, 956 pp. Order no. 
DA9704110. D.A. 57(9):4003-A. 

REED, KAYE ELLEN. 1996. The pal logy of Makapansgat and other African Plio-Pleis- 
tocene hominid localities. State University of New York at Stony Brook, 624 pp. Order 
no. DA9636630. D.A. 57(7):3102-3103-A. 

REICHEL, ELIZABETH. 1997. The eco-politics of Yukuna and Tanimuka cosmology (North- 
west Amazon, Colombia). Cornell University, 528 pp. Order no. DA9716098. D.A. 
57(12):5203-5204-A. 

REYNOLDS, LINDA ANNE. 1996. In the dwelling place of a great spirit: The prehistory of 
the pifion-juniper woodland of the Inyo-White Mountain Range, eastern California. 
University of Nevada, Reno, 222 pp. Adviser: Don D. Fowler. Order no. DA9712682. 
D.A. 57(11):4799-A. 

RO, HYUK JIN. 1997. Prehistoric and protohistori i F 
Han River region of Korea. University of Oregon, 341 pp. Order no. DA9723306. D.A. 
58(2):494-A. ; 

ROBBINS, PAUL F. 1996. Negotiating ecology: Institutional and environmental change in 
Rajasthan, India. Clark University, 348 pp. Instructor: Douglas Johnson. Order no. 
DA9625819. D.A. 57(4):1785-A. ret oe 

ROUTLEDGE, BRUCE EDWARD. 1996. Intermittent agricult 1 the polit ) 
of Iron Age Moab. University of Toronto (Canada), 461 pp. Adviser: J.S. Halladay, Jr. 
ISBN: 0-612-11840-A. Order no. DANN11840. D.A. 57(8):3558-A. 

RUBIO-ARDANAZ, JUAN ANTONIO. 1996. Arrantzaleak: Los pescadores de bajura . 
Santurtzi, cambios econémicos y socioculturales (siglos XIX y XX). University 0 
Montreal (Canada), 548 pp. Adviser: Pierre Beaucage. ISBN: 0-612-09635-1. Order no. 
DANN09635. D.A. 57(6):2547-A. : oe eof 

RYAN, JOSEPHINE CALDWELL. 1996. Changing foodways in Parakou, Benin: A study . 
the dietary behavior of urban Bariba and Dendi women. Southern prompt aia 
sity, 306 pp. Adviser: Carolyn Sargent. Order no. DA9717009. Ds. 57(12):521 oe 

SACKETT, ROSS DE FOREST. 1996. Time, energy, and indole ge ge \ 
cultural test of the primitive affl hypothesis. University of California, Los Angeles, 
803 pp. Advisor: Allen W. Johnson. Order no. DA9629209. D.A. 57(5):2114- ot sila 

SAHNOUNI, MOHAMED. 1996. Archaeological investigations at the Lower Paleo ve 
Site of Ain Hanech, Algeria, and their behavioral implications. Indiana University, 
pp. Chair: Nicholas Toth. Order no. DA9627046. D.A. 57(4):1705-A. 

SHOOCONGDE] , RASMI. 1996. Forager mobility organiza 
ronments: A view from Lang Kamnan Cave, western 
‘tb 443 pp. Chairs: John D. Speth; Karl L. Hutterer. seine 

7):3093-A. 

SIVARAMAKRISHNAN, K. 1996. Forests, politics, and governance in coh otek 
i University, 771 pp. Director: William Wright Kelly. Order no. 

11):4806-4807-A. : 

SNIPES, MARJORIE MOORE. 1996. When the other speaks: Animals papa a 
Space in the Argentine Andes. The University of Wisconsin-Madison > pP- 

Sor: Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney. Order no. DA9636601. D-A. 57(9):4009-A- 


1h ae 1 bin tha Alacth 


4‘ race 


0. DA9635607. D.A. 


136 HAYS Vol. 18, No. 1 


SOMNASANG, PRAPIMPORN RATHAKETTE. 1996. Indigenous food use: Gender issues 
in rural northeast Thailand. University of Oregon, 309 pp. Order no. DA9706763. D.A. 
57(9):4012-A. 

STARK, KENNETH JAMES. 1996. Alternative rainforest economies of Maluku, Indonesia: 
A reply to the “wild yam hypothesis” from the archaeological record. University of 
Hawaii, 207 pp. Chairperson: P. Bion Griffin. Order no. DA9629856. D.A. 57(5):2106- 


2107-A. 

STEVENS, ANDREA. 1996. The paleoecology of coastal sandplain grasslands on Martha’s 
Vineyard, Massachusetts. University of Massachusetts, 232 pp. Director: William A. 
Patterson, III. Order no. DA9709659. D.A. 57(10):6147-B. 

STEVENS, CHARLES JOHN. 1996. The political ecology of a Tongan village. The Univer- 
sity of Arizona, 725 pp. Director: Thomas K. Park. Order no. DA9720647. D.A. 
58(1):205-A. 

TARTARON, THOMAS FRANCIS. 1996. Bronze Age settlement and subsistence in south- 
western Epirus, Greece. Boston University, 586 pp. Major Professor: Curtis N. Runnels. 
Order no. DA9629559. D.A. 57(5):2107-A. 

TAYLOR, ROBIN. 1996. Medicinal plants of Nepal: Ethnomedicine, pharmacology, and 
phytochemistry. The University of British Columbia (Canada), 228 pp. Directeur: G.H.N. 
Towers. ISBN:0-612-14845-9, Order no. DANN14845. D.A. 57(12):7311-B. 

TUCKER, CATHERINE MAY. 1996. The political ecology of a Lenca Indian community in 
Honduras: Communal forests, state policy, and processes of transformation. The Uni- 
versity of Arizona, 380 pp. Director: Thomas E. Sheridan. Order no. DA9713366. D.A. 
57(11):4807-A. 

WAKE, THOMAS ANDREW. 1995. Mammal remains from Fort Ross: A study in ethnicity 
and culture change. University of California, Berkeley, 364 pp. Chair: Kent G. Lightfoot. 
Order no. DA9621407. D.A. 57(3):1198-A. 

WELCH, JOHN ROBERT. 1996. The archaeological measures and social implications of 
agricultural commitment. The University of Arizona, 271 pp. Director: J. Jefferson Reid. 
Order no. DA9720628. D.A. 58(1):202-A. 

WEST, DIXIE LEE. 1995. Epigravettian hunting strategy and animal use in the Middle 
Danube. University of Kansas, 359 pp. Professor in Charge: Anta Montet-White. Or- 
der no. DA9627501. D.A. 57(4):1706-A. 

WICKRAMASINGHE, GAMINI. 1996. Irrigation and society in Sri Lanka. University of 
Pennsylvania, 333 pp. Supervisor: Brian J. Spooner. Order no. DA9636233. D.A. 
57(6):2547-2548-A. 

WOOLFENDEN, WALLACE BIRD. 1996. Late-quaternary vegetation history of the south- 
ern Owens Valley region, Inyo County, California. The University of Arizona, 347 pP- 
Director: Owen K. Davis. Order no. DA9713433. D.A. 57(11):6826-B. 

WUNDER, MATTHEW BRUCE. 1997. Of elephant and men: Crop destruction, campfire, 
and wildlife management in the Zambezi Valley, Zimbabwe. The University of Michi- 
gan, 360 pp. Chair: Patrick C. West. Order no. DA9722127. D.A. 58(2):474-B. 

YOUNG, LISA CAROL. 1996. Mobility and farmers: The pithouse-to-pueblo transition in 
northeastern Arizona. The University of Arizona, 310 pp. Directors: E. Charles Adams; 
Michael B. Schiffer. Order no. DA9626534. D.A. 57(4):1706-A. 

ZLANAH, DAVID WILLIAM. 1996. Predicting settlement patterns and mobility strate- 
gies: An optimal foraging analysis of hunter-gatherer use of mountain, desert, an 
wetland habitats in the Carson Desert. The University of Utah, 584 pp. Order no. 
DA9626924. D.A. 57(4):1706-A. 


Journal of Ethnobiology 18(1):137-152 Summer 1998 


rennet at tae 


ABSTRACTS OF PRESENTATIONS 
at the 21** Annual Conference of the Society of Ethnobiology 
University of Nevada, Reno 
15-18 April 1998 


NOTE: Abstracts are arranged in three categories: The papers in the Plenary Session are in 
the order of speaking. Contributed Papers and Posters are arranged alphabetically. 


PLENARY SESSION 


£c S dna 


Introduction and results of survey of bership of Societ y of Ett logy 
ety of Conservation Biology: Elaine JOYAL, Arizona State University, Tempe. 


1: 


and Soci- 


Why ethnobotany is a distant cousin of conservation biology: Richard I. FORD, Univer- 
sity of Michigan, Ann Arbor. 

Several of the pioneers of ethnobotany had an idea of conservation of plant resources 
as part of their conception of the uses of ethnobotany. They lacked, however, the theoreti- 
cal construct that would allow them to center ethnobotany into the modern field of 
conservation biology. In the absence of the ecosystem concept and TEK (traditional eco- 
logical knowledge), they proposed what was most familiar to them as botanists and that 
was the garden. Both Harshberg: J Gil isioned ethnobotanical gard p 
to teach about plants as well as to do research on plant varieties, especially agricultural 
species. The thoughts about pl iversi thnobotanists will be di ed 


4 1 11 
J vy ULleoe Cally 


Ethnobiology, conservation biology, and cultural ecology: E. N. ANDERSON, University 
of California, Riverside. 

Connecting ethnobiology and conservation biology requires a theoretical foundation 
in cultural ecology. In particular, we need a double theory of motivation: first, a theory of 
the actual motives involved in human use and management of the environment; second, a 
theory of motivated cognition, to explain why people know or believe what they do about 
this. Current theories, based on economic and political considerations, are valuable but 
inadequate. Amore adequate theory is outlined. 


Ethnobotany, politics, and conservation in British Columbia, Canada: Nancy J. TURNER, 
University of Victoria. 

First Peoples in British Columbia are participating in land management and environ- 
mental decision-making in a variety of ways, particularly in the areas of forest — 
fisheries, establishment of parks and protected areas, and environmental and social im 
Pact assessments. Ongoing treaty negotiations incorporate many issues ob resntixe st 
and management. Several key examples of the role of ethnobotany in these activities a 
Presented in relation to: the Scientific Panel for Sustainable Forest Practices m pier eo ae 
‘ound; Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve; Kitlope Valley protected area; and Tradi 
honal Use Studies throughout the province. 


Ethnobiology and conservation biology in Mexico: 
utonoma de México. 


Robert BYE, Universidad Nacional 


: as a legiti- 
aa Not until recently has conservation biology been formally recogt ized Bt 
€ component of academic and community-based projec 
; : ion, restora- 
Preservation (ex sity as well as in situ) and habitat protection (e.g., preservall 


138 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


tion) been carried out, but the recognition and promotion of traditional knowledge and 
practices are recognized as integral parts of conservation. The cultural context is seen as 
important in determining various values, identifying benefits, and implementing decisions. 
Given Mexico’s long history of plant-human interaction, all conservation programs must 
involve the human component (rather than apply the “wilderness” concept) - conserva- 
tion is utilization within limits. Today, social development in rural areas and human rights 
are becoming associated with ethnobotanical endeavors and are seen as important compo- 
nents of conservation programs. Examples of programs in Mexico of non-governmental 
organizations (e.g., Model Forest - Chihuahua; Fundacion Ecolégica de Cuixmala; Insti- 
tute of Sonora; Conservacién y Manejo de las Materias Primas de Uso Artesanal 
(AMACUP)), governmental para-governmental programs (e.g., Comision Nacional para 
el Conocimiento y Uso de la Biodiversidad (CONABIO); Instituto Nacional Indigenista 
(INI); Instituto Nacional de la Nutricién (INNSZ); Secretaria de Medio Ambiente Recursos 
Naturales y Pesca (GEMARNAP)), and university projects (e. g., International Cooperative 
Biodiversity Group; McKnight Project; f. participation in in sit eee 

etc.) will illustrate various points. 


<1 
Hi dhipas, 


Kincentric ecology: Indigenous perceptions of the human/nature relationship: Enrique 
LMON, The Baca Institute of Ethnobotany. 

Indigenous people view themselves as part of an extended ecological family. It is an 
awareness that life surrounding them is kin. They are affected by and, in turn, affect their 
environment. The interactions that result from this “kincentric ecology” enhance and pre- 
serve the ecosystem. An indigenous perception of the human relationship to the natural 
world will be offered. It will illustrate the influences indigenous people have on the natu- 
ral environment. The Raramuri example of izvmgara will serve to enhance understanding 
of the human/nature relationship which is necessary in order to fully comprehend the 
distinct intricacies of kincentric ecology. 


Bridging traditional ecological knowledge and Western sci Restorati cology and 
conservation biology in the indigenous context: Dennis MARTINEZ. 

Traditional indigenous attitudes of kinship with the natural world, kincentric ecology, 
are still rel tt d ti rns. Ethnography and ethnohistory provide 
essential tools which can assist in the conceptual reconstruction of precontact ecosystem 
structure and composition. This ethnoecology of cultural landscapes offers valuable clues 
to baseline ecosystem conditions, i.e., what to restore to. The last known natural state of 
high biodiversity resulting from indigenous management can guide conservation biolo- 
gists in designing reserves and restoring the quality of habitats within those reserves. 
Western science provides the quantitative tools with which to evaluate this indigenous 
model by measuring the enhanced function of restored ecosystems. 


captive-br c to the Sea of Cortez area. The Ironwood Alliance, 
with 70 Seri signatories, successfully petitioned the Mexican government to list ironwood 
(Olneya tesota) as a species with special protection status, and to grant the Arte Seri crafts 
cooperative a collective trademark for ironwood and stone animal carvings. In addition, it 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 139 


launched a consumer awareness campaign about fake Seri carvings, confirmed that Seri 
harvesting of ironwood is sustainable, and worked to make ironwood a national priority 
£. a5 and 4 = hI 1 2 Ss oe ah 1 J j 


, rey 


for g To ay, g I 
them find new niches in the marketplace, the number of Comcaac artisans is increasing 
once again, and their products have diversified to use many raw materials in addition to 
ironwood. More recently, SEEC has involved dozens of Seris and non-Seris working hand 
in hand to construct a captive-breeding exhibit and ethnobiology trail in Punta Chueca, 
and to record songs and stories about reptiles for use in Seri schools. We have identified 
several ingredients essential to the success of cross-cultural interactions which have cul- 
tural and biological conservation as goals: 1) involve community leaders in initial 
brainstorming so that objectives, process, and structure emerge from their concerns: 2) 
<P a hac darclined: 3) + > pee 


1 £ 


focus on protecting traditional ee) 4 
new sources of income for the community; 4) use coalitions to help reassert indigenous 
rights to manage, use, and conserve resources in political arenas where the communities 
cannot leverage support on their own; and 5) base project management on long cross- 
cultural friendships where trust already exists. 


CONTRIBUTED PAPERS 


ACUCA, Donato V. [see HUNN, Eugene] 


The spirit of the driftwood: TI 
River Indian Community. 

Recent analysis of driftwood brought to a “catcher beach” on Afognak Island in the 
Gulf of Alaska has revealed a diversity of woods carried by ocean currents. Much —_ 
wood has probably originated in British Columbian and Alaskan rivers, though some may 
have traveled longer and from farther distances in the Japanese current. Ethnographic ac- 
counts suggest the importance of driftwood to humans as construction timbers, fuelwood, 
for tools and for mask-making. People could identify driftwood types a 
the ocean, and once logs were beached, human ownership marks were honored. The rela- 
tively recent arrival of Sitka spruce forests to this region within the last 500 years suggests 
the importance of driftwood to ancient groups that occupied this aelatively treeless area 
for the last 6,000 years. 


Blowing in the Wind? The Dispersal of Cotton Pollen in the Safford Valley, Arizona: 
Richard V. N. AHLSTROM, SWCA, Inc. and Linda Scott CUMMINGS, Paleo Research. 

In 1993, archaeologists from SWCA Environmental Consultants collected ae 
samples from prehistoric rock features located on Pleistocene terraces selena . al 
River. Analysis by Paleo Research Laboratories revealed cotton pollen in nisi iG - = 
a surprising result given the arid setting. Was the pollen blown up from mo ee ay ? 
the valley floor? To eliminate this possibility, surface pollen samples yee ae si 6s oe 
transects extending from the valley floor’s edge to the uppermost terrace. oe gt and 
pectation, cotton pollen was found in most samples, supporting fe cape cae vit ay ek 
transport. This finding encourages caution when interpreting pollen samptes 
cultural features. 


Sr 26 Bin aoe ALDAAAS Gila 


The Formal and the Expedient: Lower Pecos Pit Hearth Tool Kits: Charlotte K. BANISTER, 


University of Nebraska, Lincoln. : = lechecuilla), sotol (Dasylirion 
e Lower Pecos of Texas, th ting of ag 8 Oa, 

: i - vce the early Archaic. Utilized flakes are 

Pele and yucca (Yucca sp. ) has been practiced ane Ts Ce cruel enled 
logical literature. Changes in the style, raw 


commonly associated with g 
with any serious consideration in the archaeo 


140 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


material, and use wear patterns of these expedient tools may give us information about 
changes in plant processing through history. Studies of this kind may also give us a new 
way to look at Archaic tool kits in the Lower Pecos. 


Pitcooked Balsamroot: The Bite Is in the Bark: Kelly BANNISTER, University of British 
Columbia and Sandra PEACOCK, University of Victoria. 

For several years, we have been i tigating tl l and medicinal properties of 
Secwepemce plant resources. Recently, our interest in the overlap between “food” and “medi- 
cine” was piqued by a comparison of the chemical nature and antimicrobial properties of 
balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagitatta), “the medicine,” wit pitcooked pl alsamroot, “the 
f N ine both chemical conversion and chemical stability of nutritional and medici- 
nal agents in pitcooked balsamroot. As pitcooked balsamroot was formerly eaten in large 
quantities as a source of carbohydrate, we ponder the implications of our findings for Native 
diet and health. 


1 


al 1 nn 


Ahjumawi Fish Traps: The Social Implicati f Intensi ploitation in North- 
ern California: Frank E. BAYHAM, California State University, Chico and Antoinette 
MARTINEZ, University of California, Berkeley. 

The archaeofaunal record of northeastern California documents an increase in the pre- 
historic use of non-anadromous fishes, particularly suckers (Catostomus sp.), around A.D. 
1000. Relatively little is known about the social dynamics associated with this resource 
shift. A series of fish traps in the Ahjumawi Lava Springs State Park and the local ethno- 
graphic record allow us to consider the extent to which capture strategies and Native 
modifications to spawning pools may have served as a type of ecosystem management. 
Here we examine the social implications of this phenomenon as it relates to the allocation 
of labor in extraction, tool production, processing and distribution, as well as its implica- 
tion for gender equity. 


BEAR, Robert [see EISELT, Sunday] 


Indigenous Management of Yellow Glacier Lily (Erythronium grandiflorum) and Blue 
Camas (Camassia spp.), Two Important Root Vegetables of the Pacific Northwest: Brenda 
BECKWITH and Dawn LOEWEN, University of Victoria (both). 

Two significant food plants of First Nations in British Columbia are the liliaceous spe- 
cies Erythronium grandifl (yellow glacier lily; south-central interior of British Columbia), 
and Camassia spp. (blue camas; southern Vancouver Island and adjacent Gulf Islands). Both 
species were actively managed in various ways to increase the vitality of populations and 
productivity of the bulbs. Management strategies included selective harvesting, tilling, 
weeding, sowing, and burning. New experimental results are presented for glacier lily to 
confirm that the traditional replanting of “bulb-appendages” would have promoted veg- 
etative reproduction. A proposed restoration project in Victoria, B.C., will include prescribed 
burning to study the fire ecology of camas. 


BRANDT, Betsy [see JOYAL, Elaine] 


Amerindian Classification of Oaks: Cecil BROWN, Northern Illinois University. 

Eighty Amerindian languages and dialects are surveyed for systems of classifying 
and naming oak trees. Systems may or may not show generic oak terms (GOTs), e.g-, En- 
glish oak, or binomial oak terms (BOTs), e.g., English white oak. GOTs and BOTs tend more 
strongly to be present in folk taxonomies of small-scale farmers than in those of hunter- 
gatherers. However these features appear typically to develop for agrarian groups only 
when marginal agriculture is replaced with more intensive farming. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 141 


Roasting of Agavaceous Plants in Northwestern Mexico: Agave Species in Southern 
Sonora: Robert BYE, Universidad Nacional Auténoma de México and Rigoberto LOPEZ, 
Universidad de Sonora. 

Members of the genus Agave (e.g., maguey) and related plants (e.g., Dasylirion) have 
been important sources of food and I ge f tive peoples in arid and semiarid 
of central and northern Mega-Mexico. Much attention has been given to the system of 
maguey roasting pits in the Southwestern USA, especially from the archaeological and 
botanical viewpoints. Although northern Mexico has had cultural and historical relations 
with this part of the USA, there is little comparable information. Recent archaeological 
studies in northwestern Mexico suggest that this system was equally important. After a 
brief introduction to general examples of products of Agavaceae involving pit baking, a 
summary will be presented of a maguey pit baking workshop conducted as part of a cul- 
tural rescue project in southern Sonora at the request of the local Mayo Indian community 
and related to the conservation and immediate benefit program of the International Coop- 
erative Biodiversity Group (a collaborative effort of the Universidad Nacional Autonoma 
de México and University of Arizona). The dense crowns and leaf bases of the magueys 
Agave shrevei, A. angustifolia, and A. af. rhodacantha have been used in the past to produce a 
sweet carbohydrate food during the dry season prior to the flowering of the plants. The 
decapitation of the plant months prior to harvesting promotes suckering so that the popu- 
lations propagate vegetatively and increase. The recent decline in the abundance of the 
magueys has been attributed to abandonment of pit roasting practices. Prepared maguey 
“hearts” are placed in previously heated, rock-lined pits along with various layers of 
branches. The best tasting results are said to be obtained by baking the “hearts” with cer- 
tain resinous plants (e.g., Bursera). The roasting pits are located along the upper banks of 
arroyos and rivers or near houses. Most of the activities are carried out by men. 


Zones 


BYE, Robert [see LINARES, Edelmira] 
CANNON, William J. [see FOWLER, Catherine S.] 
CERVANTES, Luis [see LINARES, Edelmira] 


Putting Informal Knowledge of Nature to Conservation Purposes when aig Are 
Developed or Developing: Raymond CHIPENIUK, Frost Centre, Trent University, aaa ‘ 
Throughout the world now, most individuals grow up without a — , the 
edge of nature. But neither do they absorb a correct or substantial wana Oo 
concepts of Western science. Nevertheless, they experience nature —— - sil 
an informal understanding of it. This paper identifies some of the factors patel coved 
ting informal knowledge of nature to conservation purposes when societies are develop 
or developing, as in Canada. 
Restoration of Culturally Impor- 


“Rich Forest”: Traditional Knowledge, Inventory and G, Long Beach Model 


tant Plants and Habitats in the Atleo River Watershed: Juliet CRA! 
Forest/University of Victoria and Robin SMITH, Trent University. 
: ces i d rec- 
In 1995, the Scientific Panel for Sustainable Forest Practices sac OES 
ognized the valuable role of First Nations’ knowledge and perspectives sue fanded by the 
sustainable forest practices in British Columbia. “The Rich Forest proj rhe oe 
Long Beach Model Forest, was designed to follow up Oe ee ee eee 
entific Panel by conducting an ethnobotany project with the nousé! : sie with 
on the Atleo River vitciol A description of the research project ee 
reflections on how this project d trates the intersect ! 
tion in practice. 


142 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


When Presence is Enough: Linda Scott CUMMINGS, Paleo Research. 

Pollen and phytolith analysis can borrow from macrofloral and faunal analysis when 
the question involves presence of specific remains to answer specific questions. Presence 
of remains may be interpreted, but absence is not significant. Identification of garden ar- 
eas, and other activity areas, often si at eeery of apecanet negra eT in tropical 
e goo les, phytoliths, 


areas 
and fragments of pollen can provide rie interpretations. Ssrnbietes from Easter Is- 
land and various other places are used as examples of rare remains providing valuable 
and interpretable results. 


CUMMINGS, Linda Scott [see AHLSTROM, Richard V.N]. 


The Correlations Between Health and the Environment in Western Apache Culture: Sean 
Michael DALEY, University of Arizona and Christine MAKOSKY, Arizona State University. 

This study looks at the interaction between the Western Apache of Arizona, their envi- 
ronment, and the connection between the environment and their conceptions of health 
and illness. Topics analyzed include Western Apache animal and plant taboos and their 
correlation to illness and Western Apache medicinal and ae uses of hires and 
plants. Data included in this study llected through interviews with Western Apaches 
and secondary sources. Results will be used by bicinedicn! healthcare REISE on 
Western Apache reservations in a training manual. 


Mursik Production in Trans-Nzoia District, Kenya: A Traditional Method of Treating 
Milk for Preservation and Palatability: Christoffel DEN BIGGELAAR, Michigan State Uni- 
versity and William MUREITHI, Moi University, Kenya. 

ilk treatment using trees is an age-old practice of pastoral communities in Kenya. 
Due to economic, political and environmental pressures, pastoralists have become settled 
farmers and turned to crop cultivation as their main means of survival. However, they 
have continued to keep some cows and to treat their milk using traditional practices, in- 
corporating the desired tree species into their farming system. This paper will present 
information as to how species are identified and selected, how the trees are managed, 
management problems associated with the trees, and how farmers evaluate the results of 
continuing experimentation with trees used for mursik production. 


Use of Traditional Concepts of Biota in Conservation Efforts in Palau: Cynthia DURGAN, 
Adolph M. GREENBERG, and W. Hardy ESHBAUGH, Miami University (all). 

Endangered species including sea turtles and dugongs are hunted in the Republic of 
Palau in Micronesia. Food fish catches are dropping. Development threatens mangrove 
and forest habitats of birds and fruit bats. Utilizing legends and citing traditions of re- 
source protection, educators, government agencies, and nonprofits seek to raise public 
support for conservation. Invasive weeds and imported plant diseases represent threats 
against which traditional values and concepts of biota may be more difficult to enlist. 


At the Water’s Edge: Fishing, Practices and Gear Selectivity in the Prehistoric Northern 
Great Basin as Evidenced by Archaeological Fish Remains and Modern Fishing Experi- 
ments: Sunday EISELT, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor; Robert BEAR; and Ruth 
GREENSPAN, Heritage Research Associates. 

The reassessment of ethnographic fishing practices and archaeological fish remains 
have prompted new interpretations about the ster “ marshes } in Great Basin aboriginal 
settlement. The contribution of fish to f i i It to assess, however, since 
fish captured by aboriginal mass capture techniques are , small, numerous and similar to 
natural die-off assemblages. This paper includes the results of mass capture fishing con- 
ducted in northeastern California using basketry and netting. The results of gear selectivity 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 143 


and fish size gradients are compared to archaeological materials from several Open-air 
sites in southeastern Oregon and early Holocene human paleofecal remains from central 
Nevada. 


EISELT, Sunday [see FOWLER, Catherine S.] 


Ethnobotanical Education Grows in the Garden: Examples of Student-Supported Eth- 
nobotanical Garden Projects: Marja ELOHEIMO, The Evergreen State College/University of 
Washington. 

Student involvement in the development, maintenance and utilization of ethnobo- 
tanical gardens can enhance the teaching of ethnobotany. Three student-supported 
ethnobotanical gardens at varying sites—a historical museum, a Tribal center and a college 
campus location— are described. These projects have been incorporated into ethnobotany 
and ethnoecology courses at The Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington. Through 
them, student learning and community contribution have occurred in a number of areas 
including plant identification, plant ecology, plant salvaging, native plant gardening, eco- 
logical restoration, traditional and contemporary plant use, cross-cultural collaboration 
and reciprocity, and environmental education. 


ESHBAUGH, W. Hardy [see DURGAN, Cynthia] 
ESHBAUGH, W. Hardy [see LAMONT, Susan] 
FLASTER, Trish [see KINDSCHER, Kelly] 


Plant and Place Names Among the Keo of Eastern Indonesia: Gregory FORTH, University 
of Alberta. 

Among the Keo people of eastern Indonesia, plants, especially trees, serve a variety of 
ritual, symbolic and linguistic ends. Like other landscape features, particular plants and 
trees provide a means of defining and designating places, most notably villages and other 
culturally bounded spaces, and are further used to name clans. Plant nomenclature is also 
Prominent in Keo personal naming, especially of women. The paper considers how these 
various instances of botanical names are connected, and how such connections between 
Plants and people may be mediated by a particular social structure. 


Pit Roasting Valeriana edulis, a Root Food of the Surprise Valley Paiute: Catherine S. 
FOWLER, University of Nevada, Reno; Lucile HOUSLEY and William J. CANNON, Bureau of 
Land Management, Lakeview; B. Sunday EISELT, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor; and Kim- 
berly GUPTA, University of Nevada, Reno. 

Valeriana edulis was used in several areas of the northern Great Basin and the Colum- 
bia Plateau as a root food. Members of the genus (and species) are known for containing 
Various sedative-like substances, and are used in several areas of the world as medicines 
rather than foods. In June, 1997, we simulated a pit roasting of V. edulis with Surprise 
Valley Paiute to learn more about the food properties of the plant. We were also pase as 
to whether the pit roasting altered in any way the active compounds in the plant. m4 
Paper reports on the ethnographic background of uses of the plant, as well as the pit roas 
Ing procedures, 


Whence Corn Pollen at Archaeological Sites? An Experimental Study of Maize Ear Washes: 
Phil GEIB, Navajo Nation Archaeolocy and Susan SMITH, Northern Arizona University. : 
Adequate interpretation of pollen data from prehistoric sites is contingent penis 
tanding how pollen becomes deposited in the archaeological record. Asa mete ie 
fa study intended to help bridge the inferential gap between pollen from ar since de 
contexts and behavioral inference, we analyzed a series of pollen washes from — oe 
silks, and kernels. Our analysis quantifies a drastic reduction in maize pollen from 


ders 


144 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


outer husks to the inner husks, with no pollen occurring on kernels. We describe the re- 

sults of this experiment and di implicati ding the int tation of poll 

from archaeological samples. 

GREENBERG, Adolph M. [see DURGAN, Cynthia] 

GREENBERG, Adolph M. [see LAMONT, Susan] 

GREENSPAN, Ruth [see EISELT, Sunday] 

GUPTA, Kimberly [see Fowler, Catherine S.] 

HALLETT, Douglas [see LEPOFSKY, Dana] 

The Saints of Tobacco in Mazatec Prayer: Kathleen HARRISON, Sonoma State University. 
The Mazatec people of northeastern Oaxaca, Mexico, grow Nicotiana tabacum, which 

they employ in prayer and healing ceremonies. Each variety of tobacco is perceived as a 

distinct holy character—Catholic saint—with whom people speak. The specially-prepared 

tobacco mixtures, which may include multiple varieties, are not smoked; rather they are 

used externally on the body, to demarcate a protected space, or as a quid when invoking 


the saints’ assistance. Slides and stories of fieldwork among the Mazatecs illustrate this 
reverential practice. 


HENRIKSON, Suzann [see YOHE, Robert] 


r Oo oO = 


Lithic Soils—Supermarkets or 7 - 11s? Shallow-Soiled Grocery Stores of the Intermoun- 
tain West: Lucile A. HOUSLEY, Bureau of Land Management, Lakeview. 

Plant resources are not scattered randomly across the landscape of the arid West, but 
they can be found in discret lated to soils and soil moisture availability. The seem- 
ingly bare, rocky areas of low sagel f great interest to archaeologists, ethnographers 
and land managers as lithic soils support a great diversity of geophytic roots and other 
cultural plants collected by indigenous peoples. This report explores the knowledge of 
these resources in order to help preserve and protect these plant ities and encour- 
age indigenous peoples to maintain past lifeways. 


HOUSLEY, Lucile [see FOWLER, Catherine S.] 


Mixtepec Zapotec Bird Classification: Eugene HUNN, University of Washington and Donato 
V. ACUCA. 

Contemporary Zapotec speakers of San Juan Mixtepec, Miahuatlan, Oaxaca, Mexico 
recognize and name approximately 100 bird taxa, of which 70 are of folk generic rank. The 
terminology is applied to a local avifauna of 175+ species. The effects of taxonomic sa- 
lience, size, ecological factors, and cultural salience are assessed to account for naming 
patterns. The system is then compared with Zapotec vocabularies for the Sierra Juarez, 
Mitla, and Juchitén, and with Fray Juan de Cérdova’s 16th century Zapotec vocabulary. 
Finally, these Zapotec classifications are compared with that of the Tenejapa Tzeltal. 


HURLBURT, Dana [see KINDSCHER, Kelly] 


A Traveler’s Path: Ethnoecology of Athapaskan Speakers in Nortl tern Canada: Leslie 
Main JOHNSON, University of Alberta. 

A preliminary examination of landscape terms in Witsuwit’en and in Kaska suggests 
that Athapaskan speakers of northwestern Canada organize their perception of landscape 
from the perspective of people who travel on the land. Terms for topographic features 
such as river, creek, creek side, mountain, slope, hill, lake, swamp, meadow, open grassy 
area, wooded area, grove, avalanche track, glacier, cliff, and rubble field; and ice textures, 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 145 


sand, trail, various types of animal trails, bedding areas, and licks are found in these lan- 
guages. Toponyms reveal how a place looks from the vantage of the traveler and what its 
characteristics are. 


Basketry Ecology Among the White Mountain Apache of Arizona: Elaine JOYAL and Betsy 
BRANDT, Arizona State University (both). 

Apache Indians are well known basket makers. We consulted published references 
and conducted de-novo interviews to determine which plants were, and are still, used for 
basketry by the White Mountain Apache of Arizona. Apache basket types and purposes, 
the plants used for each, and gathering practices are summarized. Changes in material 
preferences and harvest methods between older and younger weavers, and the transfer of 
traditional knowledge from tribal elders to the next generation of weavers, are used to 
explore the broader implications of basketry ecology. 


Echinacea angustifolia: The Prime Crop of a Kansas Medicinal Plant Industry: Kelly 
KINDSCHER and Dana HURLBURT, University of Kansas, Lawrence; and Trish FLASTER, Bo- 
tanical Liaisons. 

We are exploring the possibilities of a medicinal plant industry for Kansas with “seed” 
money from the Kansas Department of Commerce. Among the many promising candi- 
dates for Kansas-grown and processed medicinals, Echi gustifolia is f tb 
of its local abundance, long history of wild harvest in Kansas, and strong market demand 
(Echinacea led the nation in medicinal herb sales, the last three years). Our demographic 
data on density, reproductive success and survival show moderate levels of wild harvest 
(as practiced by experienced “rooters”) appear to allow for sustainable harvest. In addi- 
tion, local climatic conditions are suitable for a Kansas-grown supply. 

Building a Database for Great Basin Ethnobotany: Glenda KING, Idaho State Historical 
Society. 
Scholars reviewing the status of ethnobotany in western North 


America frequently com- 


ment on the lack of comprehensive approaches to the subject and the need for creme caien 
Cc ‘ 1 . . 4 eas 
d i l theses. A database for plant use Dy inaig'} vd g 
ae Pe | : 1 1: a ae eee PANE “tase ties. ane 


ering people of the Great Basin was 
that have occurred over a span of 100 years. 
reliability, their assemblage provides for easy acc 
and development of avenues for investigation on 


While the gathered data vary in specificity and 
ess and facilitates comparisons, overviews, 
indigenous plant use in the Great Basin. 
Recent Changes in the Ethnobotany of Standing Rock Indian Reservation: Shelly KRAFT- 
MICHELS. d andi cases, completely 
Plant use among the Lakota has been greatly reduced and in some 7 C ' 

eliminated by the damming of the Missouri River by Oahe Dam. The — — 
Investigation report stated that timber, game, and wild plants were — oa anne 
vival of the Indians of Standing Rock Reservation. It was determined that . = a a 
plants were reduced or eliminated from the reservation resulting in loss of tradi — 
logical knowledge and traditional Indian culture. This loss 
for the Lakota forcing them to become more dependent on welfare or a wage-earning 
economy off the reservation. 


The Effects of Ecotourism on Subsistence Agriculture in a heen Me 
Susan LAMONT, W. H. ESHBAUGH and Adolph GREENBERG, Miami University : 7 . 
Few studies have documented the effects of ecotourism on resource use Ss 
local human populations. Plant use was studied in three rural sheng . . sia 
Amazon, one of which is located adjacent to an ecotourism operation. Vata y 


of agricultural fields and home gardens and household interviews suggest a decreased 


146 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


li bsist Iture in this village, resulting in fewer and smaller = less 
species diversity and a shorter swidden-fallow cycle. Home gardens contained few 
cies overall and more species were used for crafts. 


Mule Deer and Seasonality at Black Rock Shelter: Anastasia T. LEIGH, California State 
University, Chico/Summit Envirosolutions. 

tum increment analysis is an increasingly common method conducted on ar- 
chaeological samples of mammal teeth to investigate scheduling of seasonal events or 
seasonality of site occupation. This research examines application of the methes tp mule “a 
black-tailed deer (Odocoileus hemionus) from northern California. A mode 
and an archaeological sample of deer teeth are analyzed. Using the ae sample as a 
baseline, the archaeological sample is interpreted in terms of deer ecology and available 
ethnographic data from the region. 


Documenting the History of Prescribed Burning Among the Sto:lo of the Fraser Valley, 
British Columbia: Dana LEPOFSKY and Douglas HALLETT, Simon Fraser University; Kevin 
WASHBROOK and Sonny McHALSIE, Aboriginal Title and Rights, Sto:lo Nation; and Ken 
LERTZMAN and Rolf MATHEWES, Simon Fraser University. 

This a aocumtents prescribed burning ‘Practices among the Sto: lo of ne Fraser 
Valley dur | hr iter ¥- iew o VV ide 
spread use By controlled fires in the historic pene toe th 1e e growth of berries aie 
other useful plants, particularly in the subalpine. We are 
practices through the dating and identification of soil charcoal and analysis of pollen and 
charcoal from the lake sediments. Our investigation of sites identified by elders as having 
been burned historically indicates that prescribed burning leaves evidence in the pane 
ecological record that long history of thi 
Documenting the history and ecology of controlled burning in ecosystems ; previously pre- 
sumed to be “wild,” has important implications for modern resource management and 
conservation. 


LERTZMAN, Ken [see LEPOFSKY, Dana] 


o 
a 


Complementary Plants in Some Chocolate Preparations of Mexico: Edelmira LINARES 
and Robert BYE, Universidad Nacional Auténoma de México; Luis CERVANTES, Jardin Historica 
Ethnobotanico; and Beatriz RENDON, Universidad Nacional Auté6noma de México. 

Cacao (Theobroma cacao) as a prehispanic domesticate played important commercial, 
social and dietary roles among various Mesoamerican cultures. Its adoption by European 
societies changed its importance in Mexico as well as the form and context of its consump- 
tion. Nonetheless, some traditional ingredients still complement the cacao seeds in such 
chocolate preparations as “popo,” chilate,” “tejate,” and “tascalate.” The respective wild 
and cultivated indigenous complements for these beverages include fruits of Gonolobus 
niger, seeds of T. bicolor, flowers of Quararibea funebris, and seeds of Bixa orellana (among 
others) all of which add culturally appreciated organoleptic properties. 


LOEWEN, Dawn [see BECKWITH, Brenda] 
LOPEZ, Rigoberto [see BYE, Robert] 

McHALSIE, Sonny [see LEPOFSKY, Dana] 
MAKOSKY, Christine [see DALEY, Sean Michael] 
MATHEWES, Rolf [see LEPOFSKY, Dana] 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 147 


Little Known Western Fiber Plants: Habitat Restorations, Native Revivals of Traditional 
Skills and Museum Collection Research: Margaret MATHEWSON, University of Oregon. 
This paper explores some little known Western basketry and cordage fiber plants and 
their use. Current revivals in the use of these plants among California and Oregon native 
basket makers are discussed as well as efforts t ber of threatened plant gath 
ing locations. Contemporary native people are using museums and archives in increasing 
numbers to pull together “lost” ancient traditions. Many museum collections contain ob- 
jects of questionable origin. Plant species identification may be used in determining the 
possible origins of undocumented museum pieces. Early ethnobotanical collections, mod- 
: ‘ dada i lant ies. Exami 


nation 


ern field collecti and replication pro} } + 
of diagnostic features of plant fibers in documented pieces is used for comparison. 
MARTINEZ, Antoinette [see BAYHAM, Frank E.] 
Transformations of Attitudes Towards the Forest Among an Eastern Indonesian People: 
Andrea K. MOLNAR, Northern Illinois University. 
The paper addresses issues connected with th | f agricultural modern- 
onesia. Pressures to implement 


ization among the Hoga Sara of Flores Island eastern Ind 
an agribusiness project had i 1 ways the Hoga Sara conceptualize 
their relationship to the forest. In the past, and in spite of conversion to Catholicism, this 
relationship was expressed in terms of the indigenous religious ideology. At the present, 

Owever, economic forces are impacting both on traditional religious ideas and on the 
Hoga Sara conceptualization of their relationship and attitudes towards the forest. 


MUREITHL, William [see DEN BIGGELAAR, Christoffel 
NEWMAN, Margaret E. [see YOHE, Robert] 


Wetland Biodiversity, Human Ecology, and Conservation Strategies: George NICHOLAS, 
Simon Fraser University/Secwepemc Education Institute. 
Wetlands h Pi 4 ae {fa7 


1 4 aT 
‘ 4] 

pryeuiieinay * 

rae 4 j 


g 1 1 4 4 . y : 
| societies. While people did not live within 
emonstrated importance as a resource 
s). This paper: (a) reviews the range 


Swamps, bogs, or marshes, such settings have a d 
base, and also satisfied other needs (e.g., sacred place 
of land use associated with wetland settings worldwide during the Pleistocene and coe 
locene periods; (b) discusses ecological factors that explain aspects of this association; (c) 
identifies the variety of wetland types and resources exploited; and (d) investigates sev- 
eral conservation strategies that combine cultural and natural management values. 

er O'BRIEN, U.S. Forest Service, 


bi Zooarchaeology of Wildlife Management: Christoph 
assen National Forest/CSUC. 
Specialists concerned with modem game management are increasingly eon .: . 
chaeological data for an understanding of diachronic variability in game pops i. 
Measures of human predation and ecological change serve not only as ik a gas 
which current methods of wildlife exploitation are evaluated but also : ame ae 
Sh Implications of 2 dl 
sieges poise ce ee dies are considered. Attention is 
ent policies in Yellowstone Na- 
tations of regional archaeological data. 


tion relevant to wildlife management, such data have 
of the Yellowstone elk herds. 


148 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


Traditional Tongan Cures for Morning Sickness and Their Mutagenic/Toxicological 
Evaluations: Melinda OSTRAFF, University of Victoria. 

Every year millions of women become pregnant, and more than sixty percent of them 
will develop some form of morning sickness. And yet drugs like Thalidomide, Benedectin 
and other possible potent teratogens administered for pre-partum nausea have severely 
limited any medical intervention. In Tonga, women have been treated for morning sick- 
ness for hundreds of years. One of the treatments is called vai haka, which is made from the 
boiled bark of several trees. Vai haka was tested for mutagenic and teratogenic effects. Data 
from the Ames TA-98 mutagenic bioassay clearly indicate that vai haka is not mutagenic 
with or without S-9 activation. Bioassays with pregnant mice produced no significant ter- 
atogenic or developmental anomalies. 


PEACOCK, Sandra [see BANNISTER, Kelly] 


Concepts and Cures of Intestinal Worms in Dominica, West Indies: Marsha QUINLAN, 
University of Missouri, Columbia 

Dominican ethnophysiology, worms reside in the “worm bag,” a human or- 
gan above the stomach. Gone unchecked, worms can grow in size and number, spreading 
out of the worm bag and into other organs. A study of “bush medicine” in one village 
revealed four plants commonly used to control intestinal worms. These were: Ambrosia 
hispada (Asteraceae), Aristolochia trilobata (Aristolochiaceae), Chenopodium ambrosioides 
(Chenopodiaceae), and Portulaca oleracea (Portulacaceae). The acquisition, administration, 
perceived action, and biomedical properties of these herbs are discussed. 


Historic Conflicts Between Conservationists and Native Americans in Yosemite: David 

MOND, agile? 2 California, anise sao 

— r Yo Searitte | Vall 1864, the i dig Yosemite Miwok clashed 
with aa gather food in the park and over their demand for 
compensation for the land. These same officials suppressed Miwok environmental man- 
agement practices, but recognized that they were superior to their own. Native Americans 
and national parks (and the conservation movement) have generally pursued two differ- 
ent paths to the preservation of nature. Now, with conservationists and ethnobiologists 
and Native people seeking ways to work more closely together, it is important to remem- 
ber some of this often difficult history. 


RENDON, Beatriz [see LINARES, Edelmira] 


Indigenous Focused Ethnobotanical Curriculum of the Baca Institute of Ethnobotany: 
Enrique SALMON, Baca Institute of Ethnobotany. 

The Baca Institute of Ethnobotany offers specialized programs for Native American 

schools, and individuals The curriculum utilizes a collaboration of Western 

science and traditional approaches to indi botanical and agricultural 


knowledge. The students who attend our. programs are introduced to the field of ethno- 
botany and engage in botanical studies, chemistry, traditional knowledge of plants, and 
history. The course provides intensive instruction in modern techniques of ethnobotany 
and focuses on the mutual interactions between humans and plants. The course culmi- 
nates in the construction of a field guide that encourages the students to use their talents. 


Ethnobotany: Ayurvedic System of Medicine: G.K. SHARMA, University of Tennessee at 
artin 

Ayurveda is a holistic system of medicine which tice of thera- 

pies in many parts of Asia. There are over 2,000 single dee prescriptions used in the 

Ayurvedic system of medicine, and almost 85 percent of these are of plant origin. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 149 


Ethnomedicinal flora of the Ayurvedic system of medicine was studied in one of the re- 
motest parts of the Indo-Tibetan Himalayas. Since time immemorial, the plants of the 
Himalayas have richly contributed to the indigenous systems of medicine. The herbal rem- 
edies documented in the remote, precarious, and enigmatic Himalayan ecosystem may 
suggest new ways to combat dreaded killer diseases and improve human health. 


The Hard and the Soft: Tikuna Ethno-ecology of Agricultural Intensification: Nicholas 
SHORR, Indiana University. 

Considering the pivotal nature of the intensification of swidden and its increasing 
ubiquity in the contemporary age, we have far too few examinations of gardeners’ own 
understanding of this process and its challenges. Campo Alegre (Tikuna; Upper Solimoes) 
is one of the largest indigenous swidden communities on record in Amazonia. A series of 
conversations, triads and pile-sorts revealed a primary dichotomizing criteria common to 
three central agro-ecological domains—trees, soils and weeds—: “Hard” vs. “Soft.” In each 
domain, this contrast was strongly associated with a) relative fallow maturity; and b) ef- 
fects on work-experience. An emic model of intensification is presented. 


Guila Naquitz Reconsidered: Bruce SMITH, Smithsonian Institution. os 

Two central questions are considered regarding the Cucurbita materials from Guila 
Naquitz cave in Oaxaca. First - what is the actual age of the squash seeds and peduncles 
recovered from preceramic zones of this cave? Thirty-seven AMS and standard radiocar- 
bon dates are employed to address the related issues of the stratigraphic integrity of the 
cave and the age of the squash remains. Second - are the Cucurbita materials from the cave 
domesticated? To address this question, morphological attributes of peduncles and a 
from Guilé Naquitz are compared with specimens of 13 past and present-day taxa of wi 
Cucurbita gourds. 


SMITH, Robin [see CRAIG, Juliet] 
SMITH, Susan [see GEIB, Phil] 


The Ethnobiology and Distribution of White Root (Carex barbarae): 
University of California, Davis. 

This ethnoecological study was designed to assess tr 
of white root, a sedge harvested by Cali 
riparian understory plant, diminished to less than 5 percent 0 
tion of traditional gathering sites and difficulty of opener oi OTS 

ae lly scarce plants in the state. In this study, 1 ¢ seater uae 


Michelle STEVENS, 


J | . 
Carex barbarae and of the people who use it for basketweaving, compar 
taxonomic and cultural world views. : 
i i thern 
Fields of Stone: Lithosol Meadow Ecology Along the Upper Klamath eae of Sou 
Oregon and Northern California: Donn TODT, Ae aes eae ss oa thelr 
i : i i and flori : 
Lithosol meadows are visually, physiserer 7 Thosol meadows, once provi asd, 
“root-foods.” Ecological de- 
: | resource 
scription of these plant associations has pertinent applications for cultural res 
management and conservation biology. This paper dene” | Oe 
tic components of lithosol meadows along the Upper ! ama hares of these meadows are 
and northern California. Ecological and biogeographical fea SS inanimate 
ted salient cultural attributes are suggested, and manag 
ressed. 


150 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


Pit-Hearth Food Processing, Cereal Imperialism and the Transition from Thrifty to Non- 
Thrifty Genotype: LuAnn WANDSNIDER, University of Nebraska. 

Recent work in the area of diet and nutrition, on the one hand, and the archaeology of 
pit-hearth food processing, on the other, suggests we may be ever closer to understanding 
the presence of two gross genotypes, thrifty and non-thrifty, in the human genome. This 
paper focuses on the transition from diets high in fructose to those high in other sugars 
(gencane and on with rsiauaaey for human physiology as we understand it, popu- 

hea in Native peoples. As it happens, 
pit-hearth food processing is an aS means for preparing complex carbohydrates 
that reduce to fructose. Thus, archaeologically, we are in a good position to monitor the 
appearance and effects of a “Cereal Imperialism.” 


WASHBROOK, Kevin [see LEPOFSKY, Dana] 


1 Evid forR in Prel ic California: A Pre- 
lude to psig Agriculture?: Eric WOHLGEMUTH, University ine California, Davis/Far 
Western Anthropology. 

Plant macrofossil data from central California pera sites show patterned 
changes through time. Early Period ted by any particular taxon. 
Middle Period plant remains tend to be dominated by acorn, and small seed assemblages 
are restricted. Late Period sites are distinguished by a striking increase in small seeds as 
well as abundant acorn. These data are consistent with implications of resource intensifi- 
cation models, and suggest trends to development of indigenous native California 
domesticates. The implications are explored for models of California and Near Eastern 
prehistory. 


Prehistoric Phyllopod Exploitation on the Snake River Plain: Robert YOHE, Idaho State 
Historical Society; Suzann HENRIKSON, Shoshone District, Bureau of Land Management; and 
Margaret E. NEWMAN, University of Calgary 

Phyllopods of the genera Triops, Lepidurus, and Branchinecta are common inhabitants 
of many ephemeral lakes in the American West. Tadpole shrimp (Triops sp., Lepidurus sp.) 
are known to have been a food source in Mexico, and fairy shrimp (Branchinecta) were 
eaten by the aboriginal occupants of the Great Basin. Although it seems likely that prehis- 
toric peoples would have exploited such a seemingly valuable resource, archaeological 
evidence for phyllopod use thus far has been lacking. An attempt to extract protein resi- 
dues from certain artifacts found at ephemeral lake sites in southern Idaho, as well as the 
exploration of other avenues of indirect evidence, has recently been undertaken in an at- 
tempt to establish the validity of prehistoric freshwater shrimp exploitation. 


POSTER SESSION 


Ethnobotany in Medicinal Plant Conservation: ICBG-Mexico: Robert BYE, Edelmira 
LINARES, Myrna MENDOZA, and Gustavo MORALES, Universidad Nacional Auténoma de 
México (all). 

Supported by the International Cooperative Biodiversity Group, ethnobotanical work 
is being carried out on medicinal plants in the arid and semiarid regions of Mexico with 
the objective of: 1) conserving the biological diversity, 2) discovering biologically active 
substances of local, national and international interest, and 3) promoting economically 
sustainable activities for the communities based upon local —— Market surveys, 
community-based i d long term benefit shar- 
ing permit the advancement of ethnobotanical research as well as promote communi 
participation in the rescue and maintenance of ethnobotanical knowledge and practices. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 151 


Domestication of Chia (Salvia hispanica): Joseph CAHILL, University of California, Riverside. 

Chia (Salvia hispanica), a crop of the ancient Aztecs, has several varieties that exist in 
cultivation today. Morphological differences in these varieties have been loosely corre- 
lated with Aztec culinary, medicinal, and religious uses as well as cultivation techniques. 


se J Le, e: or 
lude d d ted status and 


ig 
domesticated characteristics. The objectives i dete g t 
understanding the role of plant plasticity in defining domesticated traits for chia. 


Ecological Characteristic of Anthropogenic Forests in Guyana: Catherine COTTON, 
Roehampton Institute, London, and Clair OZANNE. 

recent years, traditional forest management (including agroforestry or swidden- 
fallow agriculture) has been advocated as a possible solution to balancing economic 
development with rainforest conservation. However, to date, relatively little is understood 

bout th g t] tices i lved or their ecological implications. F ing on th 

Makushi village of Surama in Central Guyana, this project aims to combine detailed eco- 
logical mapping with ethnobiological knowledge, to provide both practical information 
for Guyanese foresters, and a crucial platform on which to base further economic and eco- 
logical analysis of traditional forest management systems. 


JOYAL, Elaine [see PLOTKIN, Nicole] 


Medicinal Plants Used by Native American Cultures in the Coastal Plain East of the 
Mississippi River and South of North Carolina: Heidi K. LAMOREAUX, University of Geor- 
gia. 


A poster was prepared by: 1) determining which Native American tribes inhabited the 
Coastal Plain through map overlay; 2) searching online datal to deter™ ——— 
and uses of medicinal plants for each tribe included in the study; 3) listing Plant Species 
on the y-axis of the poster, and “Medicinal Plant Uses,” “Native American Tribes” and 
“Chinese Sister Genera” as columns on the x-axis of the poster; and 4) placing markers on 
the poster to show which medicinal uses, tribes, and sister genera are associated with each 
plant species. 


LINARES, Edelmira [see BYE, Robert] 


Human-Animal Transformation Imagery of Ancient Mesoamerican Ceramic Sculpture: 
William LITZINGER, Prescott College. 

Among the cultures of ancient Mesoamerica a strong connection exis 
tistic expression and religious imagery. Examples of . pI 
Which s thought to se the pth s attempt to transform the real world a. aged 
bolic connections. These ceramic sculptures are not static representations, aren se 
orton a visionary journey linking one reality to another. a 29 sa 
teric meanings found in the imagery of these sculptures remains spect _— es 
human-animal transformation and a connection between life and death are evident. 
m LITZINGER, Prescott College. 
s iconography since the begin- 
t the center of the universe. Central 


moc 
Llailito 


ted between ar- 
1 amneueurt 


Yucatan Peninsula. Th re than a physic 
. These trees represent mo : . in Maya thought. 
=i They are direct evidence that tree-image allegory 15 — 7 
. 5 ‘ ek A i 


ey also ha ological roles. Socially, the trees are a focus for com- 

MA y ects onl be. thi $0 ee ‘ated with the conservation of 

e 2 to LC1d LEU LO TILE Liat y nt most, or in some 
linguistic diversity and traditional knowledge. Ecologically, they represe 


152 ABSTRACTS Vol. 18, No. 1 


case the only, mature native trees growing in a given region. They are also critical-habitat 
for a rich diversity of epiphytic plants and associated animals. The future diversity of the 
forests of the Yucatan Peninsula will be significantly influenced by the trees now found 
growing in the anthropogenic refugia of traditional Mayan towns and villages. 


Establishing an Ethnobotanical Garden Through Plant Salvaging: Sheri LUBIN, The Ev- 
ergreen State College. 

The Evergreen State College Longhouse Ethnobotanical Garden is located in south- 
western Washington State. Using this garden as a model, establishment of ethnobotanical 
gardens in selected other areas of the United States will be discussed. Particular attention 
will be given to procedures for obtaining culturally significant plants through salvaging 
from areas designated for development. 

MENDOZA, Myrna [see BYE, Robert] 

MORALES, Gustavo [see BYE, Robert] 

OZANNE, Clair [see COTTON, Catherine] 

Arthritis Plants: Past and Present Uses by American Indians in Arizona: Nicole PLOTKIN 
and Elaine JOYAL, Arizona State University (both). 

Arthritis is a chronic and debilitating disease for which Western medical treatment is 
inadequate. A literature search and interviews were combined to determine the plants uti- 
lized by American Indians in Arizona for the treatment of arthritis and its associated 
symptoms. Herbalists in Tuba City were interviewed regarding the plants they gather and 

a c 1 epee, ae <guicisrin npien aa a ae +41 
= 


sell for this purf d to travel farther to 
collect medicinal plants. Bri p bioassays nducted to determine the arthritis 
plants’ bioactivity. Literature was reviewed for pharmacological data to identify the chem- 
istry and activity of the most commonly used traditional plants. 


RAYMOND, David (see Contributed Papers) 


1 . 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 153 


NEWS AND COMMENTS 


THIRD MEXICAN ETHNOBIOLOGY CONGRESS, 
OAXACA, MEXICO, 1998 


The II Congreso Mexicano de Etnobiologia is scheduled 3-6 November 1998 
in the city of Oaxaca, Oaxaca, Mexico. It is sponsored by the Asociacién 
Etnobioldgica Mexicana, A. C. and hosted by the Instituto Tecnol6gico 
Agropecuario de Oaxaca (ITAO). Workshops and excursions heduled to pre- 
cede and follow the congress. For information contact Marco Antonio Vasquez 
Davila at ITAO, Privada de Almendros 109, Col. Reforma 68050, Oaxaca, México 
[(951) 7-07-88 / 5-93-01] or Gladys Isabel Manzanero Medina, CIIDIR-IPN-Oaxaca, 
Calle Hornos No. 1003, Santa Cruz Xoxocotlan, Oaxaca, México, CP 71230 [(951) 
7-06-10 ext. 2717, gmanzane@vmredipn.ipn.mx]. 


SOCIETY OF ETHNOBIOLOGY ANNUAL MEETING, 
OAXACA, MEXICO, 1999 


The 22nd Annual Confer f the Society of Ethnobiology is scheduled March 
10-13, 1999 in Oaxaca, Mexico. The venue is the Jardin Etnobotanico at the historic 
Centro Cultural Santo Domingo in the fascinating colonial city of Oaxaca. Sympo- 
sium proposals and individual presentations are invited; priority will be given to 
the following topics: ethnobiology and community development, domestication 
and management of plants and animals, ethnoecology and conservation, 
ethnobiology in education and environmental tourism. For further information in 
the U.S. and Canada please contact Mollie S. Toll, Office of Archaeological Stud- 
ies, Museum of New Mexico, Santa Fe, NM 87504-2087, tel (505) 827-6343, fax 
(505) 827-3904. In Mexico please contact Alejandro de Avila, Jardin Etnobotanico, 
A.P. 367, Oaxaca, Oax. CP. 68000, tel & fax (951) 6 79 15. 


PEOPLE AND PLANTS INITIATIVE WEBSITE 
www.kew.org.uk/peopleplants 


Gary Martin writes to invite readers to consult their new “People and Plants 
Online” website at http: /www.kew.org.uk/peopleplants for up to date news and 
notes of applied ethnobiological projects around the world. “! 

The website describes the warm reception received by the Malaysian a . 
_ tion of Gary’s methodological handbook published in English as E promi 
‘People and Plants’ Conservation Manual (Chapman and Hall, London, : Z — 
project was sponsored by the World Wide Fund for Nature, pha 4 an ‘ . 
Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. See the Journal of Ethnobiology 16:140-142 for our 
view. 


154 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


At the Desert’s Green Edge. An Ethnobotany of the Gila River Pima. Amadeo 
M. Rea. University of Arizona Press, Tucson. 1997. Pp. xxvii, 430. $60.00 (hard- 
cover). ISBN: 0-8165-1540-9. 

“We didn’t think of it as desert back then.... It was paradise, paradise.” — a 
Pima elder. At the Desert’s Green Edge is, to me, an ideal or “type” ethnobotany. 
Many words come to mind as I grapple with trying to convey to potential readers 
the essential nature of this book: monumental, detailed, compelling, fascinating, 
rich, thorough, authoritative, personal, poignant. It is all of these and more. It will 
at once serve as a reference book, an ecological and ethnobiological text book, and 
a story book. The book is full of rich detail about plants and their human relation- 
ships, and provides us with many ecological lessons and much ecological wisdom. 
It also tells us a story, a story of a healthy, functioning riverine ecosystem and how 
it was transformed and degraded over time into a dry wasteland. The story re- 
lates, with many fascinating historical notations and personal accounts, how the 
ecosystem held a people and their language and culture in a tight mutual em- 
brace. It is a story told with gentle humor and deep appreciation, and sadness. It 
tells about a strong, happy, gentle, and generous people who were nourished by a 
diverse and healthy diet. They worked hard, and they enjoyed the “fruits” of the 
desert and the river that ran through it. Then, their lives were altered as newcom- 
ers came and wrought changes to their river. This story has an essential message, 
which reverberates through almost every North American environment and in- 
digenous culture, and is captured in just one word: over-exploitation. The river 
died from overuse of resources. Trappers killed off the beaver in its upper reaches. 
Loggers and miners denuded the fragile semi-arid uplands of the forest cover that 
held back the waters from sporadic but torrential rainstorms. Ranchers’ livestock 
overgrazed the native grasses and other plants. Farmers diverted the river to irri- 
gate their crops. Today, where once you could hear the Redwing Blackbird calls 
reverberating over vast expanses of tule, willow, reed grass, and other moisture- 
loving plants, there is a disturbed, parched wasteland: ecological poverty. 

And the people? Their humor and spirit have endured, but they have lost much 
of what they had because their culture and language are tied to the land. The river 
was their “economic backbone.” Their cultural system actually increased the den- 
sity and biological diversity of the ecosystems they inhabited. Now, their way of life 
has changed markedly. Their diet has changed, too, and generally not in a positive 
way. Obesity is a real problem, and these people now have the highest incidence of 
late onset diabetes of any population in the world. This book, with its carefully docu- 
mented account of a people and their plants, isa monument to a past way of life and 
the knowledge system that supported it. It begins with a thoughtful Foreword by 
Rea’s friend and colleague Gary Paul Nabhan, himself an award winning author 
and ethnobiologist. Each chapter is introduced with a relevant quotation that cap- 
tures the message of the contents. After the Introductory part, the book is divided 
into two major parts: The Pima and their Country; and Gila Pima Plants. Part 1 is 
comprised of chapters on the Gila Pima people and culture, the Pima consultants 
whose knowledge Rea has incorporated in the book, the historic habitats and his- 
toric events that changed them, the Pima cultural ecosystem, the loss of the river, 
the habitats of today, dietary reconstruction, and Pima words for mapping the natu- 
ral world. The Piman terms used throughout were checked by Piman linguistic 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 155 


consultant Culver Cassa, a biologist and ethnobiologist in his own right. Part 2 in- 
cludes first an account of Piman folk generics, and th ystematic listing of formally 
named plant species, under the major Piman life form taxa: “plants growing in or on 
the water”; “plants standing in the river, emergents”; “grasses, grassy plants, forage 
plants, hay”; “bushes”; “trees”; “eaten greens”; “wild annuals”; “cactus-like plants”; 
“crops, planted things”; “planted fruit trees”; | ffiliated plants; and 
unassigned organisms that are not “things that grow up”. Several appendices, a 
bibliography and index complete the opus. The plants are illustrated by Takashi 
Jjichi with sumi-e, Japanese ink paintings, which capture amazingly the essence of 
each plant with seemingly few carefully placed strokes. The species I was familiar 
with were instantly recognizable from these paintings, yet when I tried to identify 
the individual aspects of the illustration that distinguished one plant from another, 
I found that the strokes, textures, and shades of gray to black were so subtly blended 
that I could only marvel at the overall effect without ever being able to analyze the 
parts. The book is also illustrated with photographs, maps, and line drawings of 
plants with Piman names and botanical terminology. Amadeo Rea, ornithologist 
and ethnobiologist, is a founding member of the Society of Ethnobiology. Formerly 
a curator of birds and mammals at the San Diego Natural History Museum, he is 
currently a private consultant. He has worked on the Gila River Indian Reservation 
for over three decades, documenting with his Pima colleagues the rich knowledge 
and understanding of the plants and animals of their desert homeland. He is also 
author of a book on the disappearing Gila River ecosystem, Once a River (Rea 1983). 
Like all books of this magnitude, this one had a few minor flaws, which are irksome 
to a meticulous and careful author like Dr. Rea. For example, a series of flawed 
diacritical markings, correct in the page proofs, occurred on p. 88 in Figure 8.8, asa 
result of a printer’s misreading (see Erratum, following this review). There is amere 
scattering of other typographical errors but few others that would misinform the 
reader. It is not surprising that the book won the National Association of Academic 
Presses award for design as well as the 1998 Klinger Book Award from the Society 
for Economic Botany. This is a book that sets a standard that will be difficult to 


surpass. 


Erratum: Rea, Amadeo M. 1997. At the Desert’s Green Edge. p. 37, Figure - ‘ f ~ “380 

Mountains” should read Santan Mountains. The sag uae passa eee 8 a: chuudagr 
t . as a ed. ag Py Hue a 

pspies tains, not west of Table Top Moun seas, wiche er dag; akimel ch-ek ha’ichu 


keekam [sing,] should read: akimel ch-ed chuuchim [p|.]; itvagr should read: tivagt. 


LITERATURE CITED 
REA, AMADEO M. 1983. Once a River: Bird Life and Habitat Changes on the Middle Gila. 
University of Arizona Press, Tucson. eas 
School of Environmental Studies 
University of Victoria 
Victoria, B.C. CANADA V8W 2Y2 


156 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


Indigenous Peoples and the Future of Amazonia. An Ecological Anthropology 
of an Endangered World. Leslie E. Sponsel, editor. University of Arizona Press, 
Tucson. 1995. Pp. ix; 312. $50.00 (cloth) ISBN:0-8165-1458-5. 

The Amazon continues to be anarea of intense debate over issues of environ- 
mental conservation, economic t, and cultural survival. This book is a 
review of traditional and changing adaptations of indigenous societies to Amazo- 
nian ecosystems. It focuses on indigenous adaptations to the challenges presented 
by the cultural and environmental impacts of Western society and the application 
of anthropological research to the needs, interests, priorities and rights of indig- 
enous societies. The contributors are archaeologists, biological anthropologists, 
cultural ecologists and nutritionists. The text contains several figures and tables, 
but no photographs or illustrations. 

The contents of the book are divided into a Foreword by Simeon Jiménez and 
Nelly Arvelo-Jiménez, an Introduction by the editor, followed by three main parts: 
“Environmental variation and adaptation,” “Foraging, nutrition and health,” and 
“Change, conservation and rights.” Each part contains four to five chapters, the 
contents of which are summarized briefly by the editor at the beginning of each 
section. Each chapter includes an extensive bibliography. The index is exhaustive, 
including general subjects and cen features, names of localities and ethnic 
groups, or cited plants and anima 

art 1, “Environmental ae and adaptation,” examines the ways in which 
variation in the environment influence variation in culture, and vice versa. Chap- 
ter 1, “Judging the future by the past: The impact of environmental instability on 
prehistoric Amazon populations,” by Betty Meggers, and Chapter 2, “The history 
of ecological interpretations of Amazonia: Does Roosevelt have it right?” by Rob- 
ert Carneiro, focus on the temporal dimension of variation, the former emphasizing 
environmental changes in prehistory, and the latter changes in the course of cul- 
tural evolution. Chapter 3, “Disaggregating Amazonia: A strategy for 
understanding biological and cultural diversity,” by Emilio Moran, discusses spa- 
tial variation in the environment, while Chapter 4, “Historical ecology of 

Amazonia,” by William Balée, explores how the indig peoples changed their 

environment. 

Part 2, which deals with foraging, nutrition and health, stresses the need for 
closer links between nutritional and medical anthropology and research on hu- 
man ecology in Amazonia. Kenneth Good’s chapter on the Yanomami of Venezuela 
illustrates that the Yanomami, who are primarily foragers and only secondarily 
farmers, adapt quite successfully in a tropical rain forest system. In the following 
chapter on the nutritional anthropometry of native Amazonians, Rebecca Holmes 
explores small stature as a reflection of the interplay of genetic and environmental 
factors. In Chapter 7, Darna Dufour examines the pains implications of bit- 
ter manioc use, sp y the process used to eli te the toxicity of bitter manioc 
by the Tucanoans in the Vaupés region of Columbia. Dufour points out that the 
nutritional value of manioc is in part a function of the specific methods employed 
in processing. Due to sociocultural change, women may not have as much time to 
adequately process manioc, and the toxic residue that ins could lead to health 
problems. The section concludes with a chapter by Carlos Coimbra Jr. entitled 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 157 


“Epidemiological factors and human adaptation in Amazonia,” which examines 
the biomedical literature that indicates the existence of a multitude of parasitic 
and infectious diseases that, at least under traditional living conditions, are en- 
demic at high levels amongst native Amazonians. 

Part 3, “Change, conservation, and rights,” offers a sample of case studies on 
ecological aspects of cultural change and economic development in Amazonia. 
Chapter 9 by Michael Baksh examines changes in Machiguenga quality of life with 
respect to nutrition, health, material goods, social relations, and life satisfaction 
and suggests that after two centuries of contact these peoples are experiencing a 
demographic rebound, partly as a result of Western medical assistance. Allyn 
Stearman discusses neotropical foraging adaptations and the effects of accultura- 
tion on sustainable resource use in Chapter 10, with a case study of the Yuqui of 
lowland Bolivia. Chapter 11, “Faunal resource use by the Chimane of Eastern Bo- 
livia: Policy notes on a Biosphere Reserve,” by Avecita Chicchén, describes patterns 
of land and resource use in forest, savanna, and river ecosystems by three differ- 
ent settlements of Chimane. She emphasizes that the needs of local people within 
and adjacent to protected areas must be considered by planners and administra- 
tors of protected areas. Chapter 12 is a study by Janet Chernela on sustainability in 
resource rights and conservation in the Awa Biosphere reserve in Columbia and 
Ecuador. It provides an illustration of the political component in human ecology 
and adaptation. The final chapter, written by the editor, Leslie Sponsel, concludes 
Part 3 and the book as a whole. It explores relationships among the world system, 
indigenous peoples, and ecological anthropology in the endangered Amazon. It 
reviews diverse aspects and factors such as deforestation, the frontier problems, 
paradigm shifts, political movements and environmentalists, and advocacy and 
human rights. ine 

In summary, this book brings together much informati RUG ENOUS POOF 
of Amazonia. The text is useful for the anthropologist, ethnologist, sociologist, and 
anyone interested in Amazonia and Amazonian social and ecological conflicts. It 
will be equally at home in the libraries of universities and institutions as on the 
shelves of people dealing with such an exciting and controversial subject. ; 

Diego Rivera and Concepcion Obon 
Departamento de Biologia Vegetal 
Facultad de Biologia 

Universidad de Murcia 30100 
Murcia, SPAIN 


thnobotanical Study of Montserrat. David 


Poti . : E oes 
otions, Poisons, and Panaceas: An ale. 1998. Pp. viii, 


Eric Brussell. Southern Illinois University Press, Carbond 

176. $69.95 (cloth). ISBN 0-8093-1552-1. 

This ha : another example of the growing interest in the al ae 
of tropical cultures. However, while most ethnobotanical studies ca piesa of 
indigenous societies, this publication focuses on the Afro-Carib ean -senelea 
Montserrat. This book provides an extensive survey ot plant see create 
categories including: medicinal, poisons, plants associated aenree: — rticularly 
tion, foods and dyes. The publication of this ethnobotanical pee pagers uent 
relevant in light of the recent volcanic eruptions on —* . 


158 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


displacement of large numbers of citizens. Thus, there may not be an opportunity 
in the foreseeable future to collect more information of this type on Montserrat. 

Potions, Poisons, and Panaceas is organized in two sections: background infor- 
mation and the list of plants and their uses. The background section has some 
weaknesses; however, the ethnobotanical section is extensive and interesting. There 
are 52 black and white photographs of plants, consultants, and landscape features 
as well as 24 color plates of plants and consultants. 

The book begins with a literature review of botanical research on Montserrat 
and a discussion of the author’s motivation and rationale for the study. There is 
some repetition in this section. For instance, Brussell discusses how tropical for- 
ests may contain many new products. This is no doubt important, but the author 
mentions this three times within just a few pages. A single strong statement at the 
beginning with references to the large body of literature on ethnobotanical re- 
search that has produced new products would suffice. The introduction also 
includes a cautionary notes section with a disclaimer against using the plants de- 
scribed by the author and a warning regarding the hazards of field work, such as 
contracting schistosomiasis and drinking untreated water. This section is not re- 
ally necessary. Other problems in the introduction include broad statements with 
no citations. For example, Brussell states that many noteworthy medicines come 
from plants including the powerful anti-cancer drug etoposide. If readers are not 
familiar with ethnopharmacology, they probably would not know whether the 
drugs mentioned are derived from tropical plants or some other geographical lo- 
cation. 

One of the more significant shortcomings of the background section is the 
brief (one short paragraph!) discussion of the recent volcanic eruptions and their 
impact on island ethnobotany. In many ways, the fact that this ethnobotanical 
knowledge may have been abruptly lost when the volcanic eruption began and 
the human population was displaced is what makes this pul important. 
Instead of providing detailed information regarding the extent of damage from 
the eruptions on island flora, or how many people were displaced, the author 
directs the reader to the July 1997 issue of National Geographic. This is inadequate 
given the impact of the eruptions on island ethnobotany. 

In the remainder of the background section, Brussell provides a description of 
Montserrat Ses climate, vegetation, and cultural history. Unfortunately, the entire 

ion section is only 14 pages long and leaves one with numer- 
ous questions concerning the study. For instance, what types of ethnographic 
methods were employed? The author mentions weekly interviews conducted at 
the public market in Plymouth, but he does not specify the number of weeks in 
total, or the number of people interviewed. Also, he briefly alludes to the aban- 
donment of ethnobotanical practices, but provides no further details. Are the same 
factors that erode ethnobotanical knowledge in other cultural landscapes at work 
t (besides vol tions)? Brussell also mentions the importance 
of voodoo in the ethnobotany of Montserrat, yet there is no background informa- 
tion provided regarding any religious / folklore beliefs. How extensive is the voodoo 
culture on Montserrat? It would be useful to readers unfamiliar with Afro-Carib- 
bean religious beliefs to provide some information regarding this interesting 
cultural feature. 


Summer 1998 JOURNAL OF ETHNOBIOLOGY 159 


The second section of the publication, ethnobotanical uses and specific dis- 
cussion, is extensive and interesting. A total of 282 culturally useful plants are 
reviewed. A botanical description is given for each plant, noting where it was ob- 
served and collected, and describing its uses. Both the botanical and names 
are provided for all plants described, a most helpful feature. Many of the ethnobo- 
tanical descriptions are interesting and give insight into Montserrat folklore. But 
again, because there is so little detail provided regarding local culture and the 
extent of voodoo beliefs in Montserrat culture, many questions remained unan- 


ered. 

Potions, Poisons and Panaceas is important in that there may not be another 
opportunity to collect ethnobotanical data on Montserrat for the foreseeable fu- 
ture. However, the book could have been much stronger had the editors insisted 
on more background information, especially concerning Montserrat’s culture. 1 
came away wondering about the people and their culture. The book seems to have 
been written as if Montserrat’s culture and environment exist in a vacuum. In- 
stead, massive change is impacting the island and its people. Yet, the reader 
unfamiliar with the Caribbean would hardly know it after reading this book. Even 
with these shortcomings, the list of plants and their uses is extensive and irre- 
placeable given the recent environmental changes on the island. This book will be 
useful to researchers working in the Caribbean region and will make an important 
contribution to the ethnobotanist’s library. 

Michael K. Steinberg 

Department of Geography & Anthropology 
Louisiana State University 

Baton Rouge, LA 70803 


160 BOOK REVIEWS Vol. 18, No. 1 


NEW BOOKS FOR REVIEW 


If you would like to review any of these books and would be able to have your 
review completed within four months after receiving the book, please contact: 


Sandra Peacock, Book Review Editor 
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Doctors for D y: Health Professionals in the Nepal Revolution. Vincanne 
Adams. University Press, Cambridge. 1998. Pp. xi; 251. $64.95 (hardback), 
$24.95 (paperback). ISBN 0-521-58486-8 (hardback); 0-521-58548-1 (paperback). 


Mexican Rural Development and the Plumed Serpent. Betty Bernice Faust. Bergin 
& Garvey, Westport, CT. 1998. Pp. xxvii; 190. $59.95 (hardback). ISBN 0-89789- 
482-0. 


Human Adaptation. G. A. Harrison and Howard Morphy, editors. Berg Publish- 
ers, Oxford. 1993, reprinted with new preface 1998. Pp. xvi;155. 14.99 £ 
(paperback). ISBN 1 85973-958-X. 


Archaeological Obsidian Studies: Method and Theory. M. Steven Shackely, edi- 
tor. Plenum Press, New York. 1998. Pp. xviii; 243. $49.50 (hardback). ISBN 
0-306-45804-7. 


Statistics for Anthropology. Lorena Madrigal. Cambridge University Press, Cam- 
bridge. 1998. Pp. xiv; 238. $64.95 (hardback), $24.95 (paperback). ISBN 
Q-521-57116-2 (hardback), ISBN 0-521-57786-1 (paperback). 


The Origins of Agriculture in the Lowland Neotropics. Dolores R. Piperno and 
Deborah M. Pearsall. Academic Press, San Diego. 1998. Pp. xii, 400. $99.00 
(hardback). ISBN 0 12-557180-1 (hardback). 


Bodies and Persons: Comparative Perspectives from Africa and Melanesia. 
Michael Lambek and Andrew Strathern, editors. Cambridge: University Press, 
Cambridge. 1998. Pp. xiii; 298. $59.95 (hardback); $19.95 (paperback). ISBN 0- 
521-62194-1 (hardback), ISBN 0-521-62737-0 (paperback). 


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SCT 


CONTENTS 


ETHNOBIOTICA Vv 


AUTHOR PROFILES vi 


FOLK TAXONOMY AND CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE OF “ABEIA” 
(INSECTA, HYMENOPTERA) TO THE PANKARARE, NORTHEASTERN 
BAHIA STATE, BRAZIL 

Eraldo Medeiros Costa-Neto 1 


MAINTENANCE OF FERTILITY OF SHALE SOILS IN A TRADITIONAL 
AGRICULTURAL SYSTEM IN CENTRAL INTERIOR PORTUGAL 
George F. Estabrook 15 


INCANTATIONS AND HERBAL MEDICINES: ALUNE ETHNOMEDICAL 
KNOWLEDGE IN A CONTEXT OF CHANGE 
Margaret J. Florey and Xenia Y. Wolff BR 


CLASSIFICATION AND NOMENCLATURE IN WITSUWIT’EN 
ETHNOBOTANY: A PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION 
Leslie M. Johnson-Gottesfeld and Sharon Hargus 69 


AN ETHNOBOTANICAL ACCOUNT OF THE VEGETATION 
COMMUNITIES OF THE WOLA PROVINCE, SOUTHERN HIGHLANDS 
PROVINCE, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 


Paul Sillitoe 103 
RECENT DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS OF INTEREST TO 
ETHNOBIOLOGISTS XV 

Terrence E. Hays RS Fo, 


ABSTRACTS OF PRESENTATIONS at the 21* Annual Conference of the Society Le 
Ethnobiology, University of Nevada, Reno, 15-18 April 1998 


NEWS AND COMMENTS wie 


BOOK REVIEWS 14, 33, 36, 67, 154, 156, 157 


NEW BOOKS FOR REVIEW ... 160