The Miwok tribe ranged from the north coast to the Sierra Foothills and Yosemite. They were the tribe associated with acorn grinding and if you’ve never seen a grinding rock you should stop by Chaw’se on your way to the Sierras someday and imagine all those lost conversations that must have taken place while the women worked side-by-side. 
Kroeber was especially interested in them because he believed they were one of the few native american tribes whose spirituality incorporated totems. We are particularly interested in them because two thirds of the tribe lived where beavers supposedly didn’t.
Yesterday I found an origin myth that I think makes a pincushion of that particular belief. It is an origin myth recorded by Edward Winslow Gifford in 1917 – 5 years before any beaver were reintroduced any where. Its the story about how the Miwok learned to make arrows for hunting. and since they were completely dependent on this adaption it is a tale of some importance.
The tale is told with a sing-song repetitive pattern in which every important idea is repeated more than once. It begins with the two brothers Dove and Prairie Falcon (how can that end well?) bemoaning their inability to hunt.
“What shall we do, brother? What shall we do? I would like to hunt. I do not know how we are to hunt. I do not know how we are to hunt. I do not know how we shall be able to hunt. I should like very much to hunt. I do not know how we can make arrows. We have nothing with which to cut. We know of nothing with which to cut. I do not know how we can hunt. We have nothing with which to cut. We do not know how to cut. I would like very much to hunt, brother. I do not know how we are to arrange it, but we will try. We have nothing with which to cut. I should like you and me to hunt together, brother. We have nothing with which to hunt.”
Wow, reading that paragraph is like sitting in a small room with an anxious asperger’s child, but I digress. It gets the point across rather vividly. The brothers had NO IDEA what to do. They NEEDED a solution. I guess the thinking is that when you fully grasp their desperation you might be more inclined to understand if not accept their solution.
“Let us throw our grandmother into the water. If she does not want to go, we will pull her in, We will throw the old woman, our grandmother, into the water. After you have thrown her into the water, pull her out quickly. Pull her out quickly. Do not keep her in the water long. Do not keep her in the water long.”
Well, that’s probably not the first thing I would have tried, but let’s see how it works.
Then Dove went. Dove went. He threw his grandmother into the water, threw her into the water. After he had thrown her into the water, be pulled her out quickly. He pulled her out quickly. His brother said to him, “Pull one of her teeth. We will make a knife of it.” Then he pulled one of her teeth, pulled one of her teeth. After they obtained the tooth, they commenced to cut, commenced to cut.
At this point I understand if you’re thinking doubtfully, hey I thought you said this was going to be about beavers! Not elder abuse. Two juvenile delinquents dismantling their grandmother for parts is hardly the basis for a creation myth. When do we get to the part about beavers? Bear with me, it’s coming. I will spare you the part where they saw a pine bough with her tooth and take out her sinew and use it for a string. She’s not exactly dead, but she’s not happy.
Their grandmother went into the water and cried and worried about herself. She said, “I did not think my boys would treat me this way.” Then the grandmother, who had turned into Beaver, said, “I will have revenge upon those boys.” She told the water to drown Prairie Falcon. The water came, while Prairie Falcon was digging, and drowned him. Dove escaped.
Whoa! Didn’t see that coming did you! Grandma turns into a beaver and she’s pretty homicidal. Dove wails and cries (that’s why he’s always in mourning, get it?) and eventually Grandma makes sure he and Prairie Falcon gets dragged about the countryside and scraped pretty badly. “Spark” brings them back to life and they begin to see the error of their ways.
Now they had no grandmother. Prairie Falcon cried because his grandmother had turned into Beaver. They both cried and cried for their grandmother. They did not know how to get back their grandmother. They went along the river. They saw Beaver In the riffle, They said, “There is Beaver.” Beaver was their grandmother. They used to take their grandmother everywhere they went, but they lost their grandmother because of the arrows. At last they abandoned the search for her and went home. Their grandmother had turned into Beaver. Everybody made arrows thereafter. Dove, cried for his grandmother. Prairie Falcon cried, but they made arrows. They lost then, grandmother because of the arrows.
So Beaver helped Miwok make arrows. Meaning they made arrows sometimes out of beaver teeth, or used beaver teeth knives to carve arrows out of other material.Meaning that they had beavers. Meaning that historically beavers had a wider a range in California than Grandmothers.
The hero who wrote down this story nearly 100 years ago was Edward W. Gifford. He was born in Oakland and took over the native museum in Yosemite from Kroeber when he retired. In all his prodigious work documenting native customs and people I can find no mention of his heritage, but looking at that very gentle face I would argue that his ethnicity speaks for itself.
