Chapter 10: The Yurok and Hupa of the Northern Coast

Copyright 1998 by Tad Beckman, Harvey Mudd College, Claremont, CA 91711

There are few smelt today, but the gulls continue to whirl about, waiting for something to eat. And the man makes a few lucky dives with his surf net, lifting the triangular frame upward and letting the floundering smelt fall back into the net's long neck. Gathering the sack-like neck in his left hand, fish shimmering, and bracing the frame, he dips to the surf again. It is a good cast, and the net fills with more fish.

As the Washo were associated with neighboring Great Basin cultures, the Yurok and Hupa were closely allied with the cultures of the Northwest. As with the Washo, environment is the determining factor. When we examine the environment of the state's northwestern corner, it is clear that it shares much more with the coastlines of Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia than it does with the rest of California.

The northern Pacific coastline typically alternates between rocky cliffs and relatively narrow, gravelly, beaches. The sea is dotted with so-called sea stacks, small rocky islands, originally part of the mainland. Neighboring hills and mountains are well forested with conifers, especially redwoods and cedars. Moving inland one sees increasing numbers of oaks and madrones. The entire length of coast is susceptible to periods of cold, damp fog. While the coast is rather inhospitable and precipitous south of Cape Mendocino, it provides wider beaches, coastal plains and forests, and lower coastal foothills to the north. From the San Francisco Bay north, the coast is interrupted by rivers that drain interior valleys. Some of these drain relatively narrow valleys running diagonally and northwest to the coast, but others are great river systems that drain extensive interior regions. As we proceed to the north, from the Russian River in Sonoma County, these rivers become increasingly major drainage systems, culminating in the Columbia River, which drains water all the way from the western slopes of the Rockies through the Snake and Salmon Rivers. In California and southern Oregon, the river systems are relatively shallow and drain out of relatively small mountain ranges, inland. Thus, a typical Northwestern habitat includes a section of coastline and a river along with a relatively U-shaped valley system well endowed with flora and fauna.

In California, the Tolowa lived along the extreme northern coast, from the southwestern corner of Oregon to approximately fifteen miles south of Crescent City. The Yurok lived along the coast, from this point south to Trinidad Bay, and up the Klamath River, extending about 45 miles and somewhat past the junction with the Trinity River as well as a short distance south along the Trinity. The Wiyot lived south along the coast from Trinidad past Eureka to Ferndale, encompassing Arcata and Humboldt Bays, the lower Mad River, and the lower Eel River. The Karok inhabited the Klamath further up river to beyond Happy Camp; the Hupa inhabited the Trinity further up that river, especially through the long north-south section called Hoopa Valley and south to Grouse Creek. The Chilula and Whilkut were smaller groups that inhabited interior valleys associated with Redwood Creek and the Mad River, upstream.

By far the largest amount of material is available on the Yurok and the Hupa. The Hupa were strictly a river people and the Yurok were divided between river and coastal villages. Early ethnographers suggest, however, that the river culture predominated among the Yurok and that the majority of Yurok lived along the Klamath River. (Waterman, 1920; 182-4) Watercraft, as we will see, while excellent for river navigation, were never adapted to extensive travel onto the sea; at most, the Yurok visited close-lying rocks to hunt for sea mammals. Though there have been many problems in protecting their land and their rights, the Yurok and Hupa are singular, in California, in having secured their homelands. The Hupa secured Hoopa Valley in the late 1860s and the Yurok were combined with them in a composite reservation, including the Klamath, in the early 1880s. While both people have lost traditional lands and while they have now been legally separated into two reservations, it remains true that Yurok and Hupa, today, live within the same environment as for thousands of years.

The Tolowa and the Hupa spoke languages that were both derivatives of the Athapaskan family; yet Tolowa and Hupa were mutually unintelligible, the separation of the two having occured at a remote time, perhaps 1300 years or more. Tolowa Athapaskan was more closely related to dialects found along the Oregon Coastline; all Athapaskan languages are associated with the Northwest. The Yurok and the Wiyot are distinctive in speaking the only Algonquian languages of California; this language family is also associated with the Northwest. The Karok are unique in this group for having spoken a language in the Hokan family. Hokan is associated with old languages of Mexico, and the Hokan root of Karok probably demonstrates their relationship with the tribes of North-Central California rather than with the Pacific Northwest --- the Chimariko, Atsugewi, Achumawi, and Shasta. While all of these people spoke different languages, languages from three different families, the length of time in which they co-existed without further adjustment of boundaries was large enough to make language irrelevant to the determination of culture. Their cultural habits were extremely similar; they learned the languages of their nearest neighbors, at least; they inter-married; and they attended each other's major ritual celebrations.

In contrast to the Archaic pattern of life led by the Washo, the Yurok and Hupa exemplified a well established Pacific Period lifeway. They were sedentary; they had achieved specialization in their technological pursuits; and while they harvested hundreds of different plants and animals, they focused on a few staples that provided for them very well throughout the year. Resources were so plentiful that these people had the free time to nurture the arts and crafts in a way that was uncommon in California and that promoted a well developed sense of status and wealth in their societies.

There were many different fish in these rivers, though the most important by far were the salmon, stealhead trout, sturgeon, and eels. Salmon and stealhead are ocean-going fish that lay their eggs in shallow gravel beds far upstream in tiny mountain creeks; thus, their annual passages through the rivers were opportunities to catch great numbers of fish. All of these people had developed a simple and reliable technology for processing these large catches. Fish were cleaned, cut into half-slabs, smoked on racks in the rafters of their houses, and stored for consumption throughout the year. Smoked or dried fish could be ground into a protein-rich meal that could be mixed with acorn mush. Fresh fish were baked or barbequed.

In order to fish the rivers the Yurok and Hupa extended fishing technology beyond that of most Californians. For navigation, they built large dugout canoes from redwood or cedar. These boats, which were paddled, were relatively shallow but were wide and long (perhaps 16-18 feet with a beam of 5 feet). Given the boat's size, it is clear that construction was an arduous task. A large length of a suitable tree had to be cut and, then, the basic shape of the dugout had to be formed by a succession of treatments with fire and adze. Only as it reached its final shape would it become light enough to be transported to the water. These dugouts were excellent for travel on the relatively shallow and gravelly rivers, but they were unstable in the ocean. River travel was the chief means of transportation; hence, villages were all located along the rivers.

At various points along the interior rivers, the Yurok and Hupa built fishing damns, or weirs. Rather than holding back the river, literally, these damns simply created an obstruction which slowed fish passage somewhat and, more importantly, provided an excellent platform from which to spear, harpoon, or net salmon. Positions on the damn were "owned" by individuals who helped in its construction.

Fishing with hook-and-line was not useful in the river environments, and nets of different kinds were more commonly used. Both in the rivers and in the ocean surf, indigenous people commonly used a triangular shaped dipping net with a long handle. Along the rivers, the handle was made especially long so that one could reach into the river from rocks alongside. Gill nets were also in use. These were long nets, a couple feet wide and weighted on the bottom side. They could be strung across a portion of the river and left for a day. Contemporary natives can still fish with gill nets, though their catch is carefully regulated by the State Department of Fish and Game.

Spears and harpoons were also used. A particularly effective harpoon was made with a long pole to which two pointed shafts were lashed with a separator plug, to keep them firmly apart. One of these was relatively blunt while the other had a sharp bone foreshaft tied through a hole in the shaft. This foreshaft came off in the fish's flesh and turned to create a strong hold on the fish because of the way it was tied into the shaft system. Eels were commonly caught with an implement that consisted of a long pole equipped with a sharp hook at one end.

The Yurok sanctified this relationship with the salmon through the mythological concept, Nepewo, the "headman of the salmon," who lived across the ocean. In effect, salmon was a whole unified being that was never actually killed. Nepewo declared to the Yurok, "I shall travel as far as the river extends. I shall leave my scales on nets and they will turn into salmon, but I myself shall go by and not be killed." (Keeling, 1992; 52) Maintenance of a good relationship with this spiritual being was all that was required for continuation of their plentiful staple food. And the Yurok were extremely deliberate about this relationship. No one could catch and eat a salmon until after the First Salmon Ceremony in which an appropriately purified ritual formulist, exercising extremely precise traditional movements, caught, killed, and ate the first salmon of the season. To violate this pattern of annual reunion with the salmon would risk the well being of the entire people. (Keeling, 1992; 51-53)

The seashore economy was quite different and was divided between hunting seals and fishing the surf line. Unlike their neighbors along the Washington Coast, none of these people were deep sea or whale fishermen, but they occasionally harvested a whale that washed onto the shoreline in their vicinity. The dugout canoes were not useful for extensive deep sea fishing, in contrast to the magnificent cedar canoes of Washington (e.g., the Makah) or the plank canoes of Southern California (e.g., the Chumash). For ocean use, dugouts were made considerably longer and with a greater beam, for stability. Nevertheless, they remained susceptible to capsizing and were only used for seal hunting and fishing within the coastal margin, making access to seal rookeries on off-shore rocks.

Fishing along the surf line was done with special dipping nets. These were constructed with a long triangular wooden frame which could be held at the narrow end so that the wide end could be placed in the surf. The net was strung around this frame and had a relatively long pocket, at the upper end, so that fish caught in one wave could be shifted into the bottom of the pocket and held, allowing two or more dips of the net in successive waves. The net is so effective that it is still in common use along this coastline today.

An alternative method of catching surf fish used a circular net that could be thrown just behind a wave. The circumference of this net was weighted and a line passed through the circumference and up through the net's center. When the fisherman pulled this line, the net was drawn together into a purse and the fish trapped. By far the most common fish caught in the surf was smelt, a small bony fish with large scales. The smelt could be dried and preserved for later use or barbequed, in quantity, in racks.

The coastline also provided occasional environments of still tidal water, such as the tidal flats of Arcata Bay or the lagoons north of Trinidad Bay. In these environments, indigenous people could harvest various shellfish, as evidenced by large shell mounds left behind (e.g., on Indian Island in Humbolt Bay). They could also exploit these coastal bays and lagoons to hunt for water fowl.

All people of the northern coast depended on acorns as a staple food, but the great acorn groves were unequally distributed. The Wiyot, for instance, had to move inland considerable distances to harvest acorns. The Hupa, on the other hand, had plentiful stands of oaks within Hoopa Valley. Unlike most parts of the state, large portions of the northern coast remained green throughout the year, rather than being burned out by summer heat; thus, the Yurok and Hupa possessed a year-round supply of green plants and enjoyed an abundance of tubors, fruits, and berries in season. The natural plenty discouraged movement into agriculture, though tobacco was planted and, typical of other areas in California, various strategies of burning and pruning were utilized to encourage new growth, better yields, and grazing opportunities for huntable animals. Game, too, was reasonably plentiful. Men of this region hunted deer as well as smaller mammals.

The housing of this region is absolutely unique in California and bears, instead, a strong relation to housing all the way north to the coast of British Columbia. They built a magnificent plank house which they fashioned from large planks of redwood or cedar, the latter becoming increasingly predominant in Oregon and Washington. The Yurok house was built over an essentially square pit, about 10-15 feet on a side, 4-5 feet deep, and lined with smaller planks that formed retaining walls. The house itself was about 20 feet on a side so this left a ground-level area inside and surrounding the pit. The roof was either two-pitched or three-pitched. A two-pitched roof had one large ceiling beam and planks laid overlapping down either side of this beam to the sides. A three-pitched roof had two large ceiling beams so that a major portion of the roof was flat planking between these beams, with relatively smaller, sloped planks on the sides. The roof planks in either arrangement were movable so that they could be opened to different degrees; overlapping made it possible to keep an opening even during winter rains. The front of the house usually had a "porch" made of rocks where people could sit and work. The doorway was always a circular hole cut in the planking on the right side, when facing the house. The doorway could be covered with a mat or skin or it could be equipped with a circular wooden door or hatch.

Portions of the ground-level section could be screened off with mats, and various possessions, utensils, and foods could be stored in these areas, usually in large baskets. Smoking racks were hung in the rafters and smoke was conveyed through these by adjusting the roof planks, as needed. All in all, the house provided protection from the cold and wet winters, storage and processing of staple foods, and a permanent place for keeping personal items, especially ceremonial items and other signs of status and wealth. Since a house of this sort represented a substantial investment of labor and could survive over long periods of time, Yurok houses were passed from generation-to-generation and were often named so that a given house bore the family's reputation and might be known by people well outside of the particular village.

Villages were designed more nearly around these great houses than vice versa. The houses were arranged in favorable places up hillsides where they could command views as well as escape the potential problems of flooding and foul weather. Houses further up the hillsides definitely enjoyed a greater sense of status. Villages were, likewise, of different sizes and stations. Most had from five to ten houses; only a very few had significantly more than fifteen. And only a few villages could boast of having one or two truly great houses, or families, who possessed enough wealth to bring together people from far and wide in celebrating the traditional rituals of World Renewal, especially the White-Deerskin Dance and the Jump Dance. In these villages, a dance pavillion would also be constructed. While this was an open-air structure, it followed some of the principles of Yurok house construction, having a square pit with retaining walls, where the dancing was done, and ground-level seating all the way around, the whole being partially covered with plank ramadas.

Yet a third structure was always built, no matter what size of village was involved, and this was the sweathouse. It was again based on a pit, this one rectangular in shape, and had a low single-beam ceiling fashioned from planks. Rocks were used extensively. The floor of the sweathouse was fashioned with smooth, flat rocks and this extended out into the crawl-spaces that provided entrance and exit. Usually, there was a rather easy side entrance through which the men could enter and care for the fire. But there was also a narrow, almost tunnel-like, exit at the end which may have symbolized, in some sense, an opening of spiritual rebirth through which the sweated participant emerged and ran to the river, lake, or ocean for the final cleansing. (Erikson, 1943; ??) Rocks virtually surrounded the sweathouse, providing a tight closure where the roofing met the ground.

In Yurok and Hupa society, the sweathouse was very much like a "men's lodge;" that was where the men smoked, purified themselves, worked on tools, equipment, and ceremonial regalia, traded stories and gossip, and slept. They were joined in this community only by older boys who were beginning their passage to the status of adult male. The houses were inhabited by the women and children; as described above, the houses were also the storage and manufacturing centers for the family's food supply. The men joined their families in the houses only during the daytime and, perhaps, early evening. Of all the north-coast people, only the Wiyot diverged in these social customs; among the Wiyot, the men regularly slept in the houses and women were not even excluded to "menstrual huts" during their menstruation.

It was consistently claimed, by early ethnographers, that Yurok society was aristocratic and almost fanatically oriented toward wealth. On the other hand, it has been observed that most of the early informants were aristocrats. So, unfortunately, we have no well balanced view of what this meant to Yurok life as a whole. What seems clear, however, is that Yurok life was sufficiently affluent, compared with other Californians, that social life was distinctly different.

While affluence allowed the formation of an aristocratic class and seems to have dominated their political relations, it does not seem to have produced an overly complex system of social stratification; thus, Yurok society consisted of the peerk, or "real men," the commoners, and the slaves. Since the peerk are estimated at 5% of population and slaves, at 0.1%, the overwhelming majority of Yurok society was considered "common" and was never carefully studied. What does make the aristocratic peerk important, however, is the estimate that as many as 40% of the Yurok people lived in households that were headed by them. (Pilling, HNAI; 142-3)

Before going further, we should probably note that the term 'slave' should be used with caution. A far better description would be indentured servant, "a debtor working for the man to whom he owed the debt, or a girl whose father had given her to pay a debt, or a starving person who had given himself over to a wealthy man . . . for his keep and protection." (Pilling, HNAI; 143) Yurok slavery was not bondage and it had no racial or even ethnic overtones.

The four elements of Yurok social organization were the district, the village, the family, and the individual. The district was a loose affiliation of villages nearby to each other. This affiliation was not defined by any real political alliance or organization; instead, it was determined by the need for a population base larger than any single village to put together ceremonial rituals and the need, periodically, for the selected men of a district to sit in judgment to resolve a dispute or determine just payment for some infraction. The ceremonies were put on by the aristocrats of the district and they, too, were called upon to sit in judgment. There was no separate political hierarchy or hereditary line of authority.

As we observed, above, the villages consisted of a collection of houses and the great, uphill houses, like the aristocrats who possessed them, were dominant. These houses were named, and they defined a descent group that carried that name. Ceremonial regalia and other objects of wealth, as well as various properties or rights (e.g., to fishing sites), were identified with the house and were passed by inheritance when the head of the house died. The primary inheritance fell to the eldest son, especially if he lived in the house, but other members of the descent group had definite claims, especially to property or rights not immediately attached to the house.

Marriage was normally patrilineal, though not rigidly so; that is, the woman moved in with her husband's family and the children were identified with that family. Nevertheless, a young man who could not meet the "bride price," especially for a wealthy family, would move in with his wife's family and it might be referred to as a "half marriage." While a woman's wealth was recognized in Yurok society, it was clearly associated with her through her father's family, an association that she carried into her marriage. This wealth/family association was sufficiently important in Yurok society that husband and wife might agree to maintain entirely separate property rights or might even co-habit without marriage in order to preserve their family wealth without complication or ambiguity.

This rather unique system of social organization, actually segregation apparently based on gender and wealth, has led to diverse interpretations of Yurok and Hupa society and a traditional belief, among American ethnologists, that they were possessed by wealth and a vision of female contamination. Erik Erikson's study and interpretation of Yurok childhood has been especially influential in this regard. (Erikson, 1943) However, it can be argued that all of this has been considerably exaggerated and misunderstood, over the years, by making hasty conclusions based on one or another customs, failing to recognize the complexity through which custom, ritual, and world view are all interrelated. (Keeling, 1992) We will try to seek a balanced picture, in concluding this discussion, by examining these features of Yurok and Hupa life more closely.

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world view, concepts of creation and first people, world renewal, rituals, sacred entities, spiritual excellence wrt wealth and sexuality.

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Standard currency was the dentalium shell, a finely shaped, long, conical shell, originating on Vancouver Island. Dentalium was strung in chains, alternating with other valuable shells and materials; and these chains were usually stored in small "purses" made of elk horn and carved with fine designs. The length of the shell contributed to its value in exchange, and some Yurok men even had a "standard length" tatooed on an arm, for direct comparison. Shells of the same length were strung onto strings of established length, which was measured, or verified in exchange, by a complex procedure of wrapping around the hand and forearm.

The Yurok sanctified dentalium through the mythological figure Pelintsiek, or Great Dentalium. Pelintsiek was envisioned as a huge dentalium shell the size of a sturgeon; but as with all great spiritual figures of Yurok mythology, Pelintsiek walked, spoke, and exhibited other human-like capacities. Like all of the great figures of their mythology, Pelintsiek had retired from their world and lived across the ocean outside of the sky's edge.

It is easy to assume that the Yurok were simply and extraordinarily fixated on money and this has been written over and over. Nevertheless, the Yurok conceived of wealth as something far beyond money itself. At the very least, wealth included a large number of material items --- a suitably situated house, furnishings and utensils, storage boxes and baskets, and a wide variety of ritual or ceremonial regalia. Nor should we rashly confuse this wealth with mere material possession. For the Yuroks, as for all of the people of the Northwest, material things, like animals and plants, were all animated spiritual beings. Thus, in the Yurok's mind, wealth was not exactly "possessed;" instead, wealth represented the accumulation of a community of entities that acknowledged a person's spiritual power. It was quite conceivable to the Yurok that all these things could get up and go elsewhere if offended by the host person. To the casual observer, the Yuroks seemed possessed by the desire for wealth since so many of their prayers and other actions represented wishes for wealth. But wealth was far more than mere accumulation of money or other material things; it was really an acquisition and demonstration of spiritual power. A wealthy man was refered to as a "real man" or, emphatically, a "man;" but the Yurok was quite aware that becoming a "man" was a mark of deliberate practice in acquisition of spiritual power and not merely by virtue of luck or greed or accumulation.

Yurok men also seemed possessed by sexuality in a strongly negative way; and, again, we can understand this disposition only by seeing its strong relationship to the Yurok's spiritual life. Nowhere else in California did men refuse to sleep in the women's house at night. Furthermore, Yurok men adhered to substantial regulations of abstinence from sexual contact prior to hunting, fishing, or ritual activities. In some situations, up to a year of sexual abstinence was required. All of this has given some ethnographers the impression that Yurok women were held in disgust and that Yuroks exaggerated an antagonism against women. Once again, however, the answer to this behavior seems to lie in their spiritual life rather than any peculiar judgment pitching men against women. As Keeling has observed, the impression of onesided male domination is more likely explained by the preference of ethnographers for male informants rather than by any real division in Yurok society. Unfortunately, the women's role in Yurok spiritual life remains mysterious for lack of female informants.

What seems to be at issue here is whether Yurok society consistently held a dark and demeaning view of women and sexuality or whether the male treatment of sexuality and contamination are to be explained otherwise. Keeling's thesis is that sexuality, like any other potentially over-indulged activity --- laziness, over-eating, etc. --- was perceived as spiritually harmful for anyone. Thus, it no more indicated the evil character of women than over-eating indicated the evil character of food. At issue, in any case, was the need for the good man to demonstrate self restraint. Keeling quotes a Yurok woman, Florence Schaughnessy, describing the magnificence of the high country, "You come across a place you've never seen before, and it has awesome beauty. Everything above you, below you, and around you is so pure --- that is the beauty we call merwerksergerh, and the pure person is also merwerksergerh." Early ethnographers translated this word as "clean person" and lost its spiritual content, confusing purifying or cleansing (eliminating) with rising to exceptional heights (attaining). (Keeling, 1992; 64-66)

What seems quite clear is that the Yurok were an exceptionally spiritual people who were thoroughly convinced of the intimate daily connection between spiritual relations and natural events. Hence, the stability of the world, the success of food acquisition, and the acknowledgement of one's power and influence in the community all depended upon one's ability to understand and control spiritual powers. While all human works demanded the attainment of technical skill, handling one's spiritual dispositions was at the center of all. The Yurok did not need to have disgust for anything nor did they need to purify away evils. What was at issue was the individual's ability to rise to extraordinary heights in self-discipline.

Perhaps this lies at the bottom of the Yurok's interesting, and also unique, individualism in politics. Unlike most other California people, even other northwesterners, the Yurok's had no organized political society. When there was a need for communication between two villages, to settle a dispute or decide on some retributive payment, it was expected that the men of the great houses would discuss and decide these things. Otherwise, Yurok life had little political dimension; village life was individualistic and simply conformed to obvious cultural beliefs. The single source of collective activity was the spiritual leadership responsible for maintaining the natural world; and this resulted from a cooperative allegiance of the great men of wealth and influence, the ritual formulists, and the shamans. It is interesting and tragic that, in contemporary times, this spirit of individualism has prevented the Yuroks from forming any strong central government that could effectively protect them from, or secure aid from, the United States.

Unlike indigenous people of the Northwest and Arctic, those of the northern coast of California did not engage in totemism as such and did not develop the art of wood carving. While their houses are similar in construction, they are noticeably lacking in carved or painted decorations both inside and outside. Equally well, the dugout canoes were very simple. Californians did not make wooden boxes for storage, like their neighbors to the north; theirs was an entirely basket-oriented material economy.

Erikson, Erik Homburger. "Observations on the Yurok: Childhood and World Image." University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, Vol. 35, No. 10, pp. 257-302 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1943)

Goldschmidt, Walter A. and Harold E. Driver. "The Hupa White Deerskin Dance." University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology, Vol. 35, No. 8, pp. 103-142 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1940)

Keeling, Richard. Cry for Luck: Sacred Song and Speech among the Yurok, Hupa, and Karok Indians of Northwestern California (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992)

Gould, Richard A. "Tolowa;" Pilling, Arnold R. "Yurok;" Elsasser, Albert B. "Wiyot;" Wallace, William J. "Hupa, Chilula, and Whilkut;" and Bright, William "Wiyot." in HNAI, 8

Waterman, T. T. Yurok Geography (Trinidad, CA: Trinidad Museum Society, 1993; originally published by University of California Press, 1920)