Q&A with a tribal hunter about storytelling, taking photos of deer and family traditions

Although the Nez Perce Being an ancient people, tribal ethnographer Josiah Pinkham has focused much of his career on the present and future. The 42-year-old could study the fossil record and visit archaeological sites in the Pacific Northwest, but his main job is to delve into the current customs, customs and traditions of his tribe – and then document it all. He calls it the scientific method of creating stories. This is how he thinks about hunting, telling stories and passing on traditions and history.

Outdoor life: What is your job and how does hunting fit in?

Josiah Pinkham: I study all aspects of our culture. There has been some archival research done, but I spend a lot of time talking to tribe members and learning about things that are important, like fishing areas, ancient hunting grounds, places where people were buried, areas where we picked berries, and so on. One of my partners and I once learned to make sheep’s horn bows, which are traditionally used for hunting buffalo on horseback. I try to focus on bigger things than my work and my career.

OL: What bigger things?

JP: I’m trying to figure out how the Nez Percé have maintained their culture and allowed them to live in one place for 16,000 years. And the responsibility is: how do I pass that on? So fitting a career into that, that’s what I mean. What matters most is the survival of our culture, our people, our land, our stories and access to it all.

OL: What role does hunting play in that survival? How has this shaped the Nez Percé culture today?

JP: Hunt is our culture. We really couldn’t be here without being hunter-gatherers, and it’s something we’ve honed over the generations.

OL: Do you feel that the heritage is limited, since the modern reservation is in Idaho, but the tribe’s historic range extends across the greater Pacific Northwest?

JP: In some cases this is limited. In some ways it’s simpler. We are a checkerboard reservation [with parcels of tribal and private land bundled together]but I can go to Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana, and I can hunt in any national forest without a permit. And that’s because my ancestors were smart enough to reserve that right for me. It’s amazing that I have a reservation here in Idaho, but part of that reservation includes hunting access in other states. Reservation boundaries are one thing, but it’s very hard for people to imagine me going to Montana to hunt buffalo as part of that reservation.

OL: How much do you identify with non-tribal hunting culture?

JP: Most of the time, tribal hunting doesn’t look all that different from non-tribal hunting. We are now a modern people. We have the right to access the same hunting equipment: we use rifles, compound bows, some traditional bows, and so on. The difference is in the values ​​that individual hunters were raised with and how we express them.

OL: What values?

JP: There are some values ​​that outsiders simply don’t have, and what I mean by that is that for us, hunting is an act of prayer. What’s really different about tribal hunting, Nez Percé hunting for my family, is that we’re not supposed to pose and have our picture taken with an animal. And that’s the first thing white people do. After killing an animal, they pick up the antlers and take a big smiling photo. We are explicitly taught not to do that because it is disrespectful. But we’re starting to get more and more tribal people doing that, and we have tribal members who are trophy hunters. I don’t like it, but that’s the reality. The old men I grew up with say things softly when the young ones show pictures of a big buck. They’ll say teasingly, “Oh, you hunt like a white man.”

OL: Is it just a few individuals, or do you see your culture going there?

JP: It depends on the family. I don’t let my boys do it, and I tell them why.

OL: Where does storytelling come into the picture?

JP: Stories are where the vast majority of values ​​are embedded. Language transmits from generation to generation their relationships with the rest of the world. Stories organize your value structure. Take the stories about the old men who raised me mocking the white men’s trophies on the wall. When I tell that story to my boys, I don’t tell them, ‘I went to this one guy’s house, he had so many trophies on the wall. He’s such a good hunter.’ I tell them how this hunter took all the sacred food and hung it on the wall. The way you talk about things determines your values. [Focusing on antlers] is a different value system, and I don’t think it’s sustainable.

OL: Hunter recruitment is part of the national conversation. What does it look like for the Nez Percé?

JP: First of all, lots of time for the family. The Nez Percé in these modern times are constantly trying to refine and reevaluate their value structure. And hunting is an important part of that, because without animals we wouldn’t be here. And we need to figure out how to fit our relationship with hunting and modern values ​​into that context. In some ways it’s easier. Just as technology makes things a lot easier: we don’t have to walk to buffalo country.

OL: And what makes it more challenging?

JP: Access. Private ownership of our ancestral land.

OL: Do you have hope for the future?

JP: It must be me. I worry that some of us are losing our relationship with the animals we hunt. If something isn’t important to you, are you going to keep it? Hunting is sacred, an act of prayer. And it’s worth holding on to for the next generation, and worth fighting for.

OL: We discussed a lot of serious matters. Is hunting fun?

JP: Oh yes. When we say we are going to hunt, it is more of an open activity. We say, “Hey, let’s go cruising,” and we take a gun. It’s more about getting out, connecting, wandering around and getting back to your roots – rejuvenated and recharged. You can throw as much flowery language at it as you want, but it just feels incredibly good.


Tribal management in the US

Tribal conservation programs present some unique management challenges and solutions, and even provide opportunities for non-tribal hunters and fishermen. Here are three to check out.

Blackfeet Nation Fish and Wildlife, Montana

Founded in 1978, the tribe’s wildlife program setting aside important habitat for healthy big game populations and creating hunting opportunities for elk, elk, sheep and more.

Jicarilla Apache Game & Fish, New Mexico

This agency has helped restore mule deer to the 850,000-acre Jicarilla Apache Reservation and created some of the best trophy elk herds in the state.

Shoshone and Arapaho Fish and Game Department, Wyoming

Since the department implemented game codes in 1984, the ungulate population on the Wind River Indian Reservation has skyrocketed.

Pinkham was 42 when this story first appeared in issue 4 of 2020 Outdoor living.


Natalie Krebs