Here's a story I wrote some time ago, based on what my brother-in-law told me about the Abnaki side of his family.
Hunting story
I got a call they might be here today. I parked the Fish and Game truck behind the hedge of lilacs where the old farmhouse used to sit, across the road from a gentle bank to the river, wider here where the current slowed as it approached the lake.
Soon Joe’s truck stopped on the bank. I watched Ray and Joe and Ella as they pulled a rowboat from the back of the truck down to the water. Joe and Ella went back for the baskets and buckets and cushions and oars and Ella’s fishing gear. They got in and Ray pushed them off. With Joe rowing and Ella dragging a lure they were soon on the other side, even after stopping for Ella to net a big one, and then they were into the woods with the buckets.
I watched as Ray carried the canoe down to the water, and then got the paddles and a fishing pole from the truck. He paddled out into the river near where some ducks were feeding. He tossed out handfuls of something that drew in the ducks, then scooped a couple of them up with his fishing net if they got close while he was fishing, He soon had four fat ducks and a couple of fish.
He was gutting the fish on the tailgate when I drove across the road and parked the Warden truck in front of Joe’s truck. “Nice fish there.Good size - I don’t even have to measure. You’re not over limit. You got a license?”
“Don’t need one here. This is our land.”
“You one of the Indians? I’ve heard about you. Look, I’m not the one to decide this, but my job is to enforce the fish and game laws. Down here, you need a fishing license and a hunting license. And this is a Federal Game Preserve, so you can’t hunt here anyway.”
“My grandfather sent back the check.”
“What does that mean?”
“My fathers have lived here where the river comes to the lake since before the whites came and told us we could live here. When the plagues came, many died, and some went north to live with the French Peres. The Peres offered them a cross and a new name. They took the cross and the names so the children could eat and stay warm.”
“Then the wars came. The English drove out the French soldiers but the French farmers and Peres stayed. When the fighting was done, some of our fathers came back to live here on our land by the river. When the American line was cut through the woods, we were divided. My great-grandfather became an American, his brother an Englishman whose sons became Canadians.”
“I was born here on my grandfather’s farm when I surprised my mother by coming too soon They say that is why the Americans say I am an American, and the Canadians say I am Canadian.”
“When my grandfather got old and could not work much any more, he went to live with his cousins in their house in Canada. They got some food and money from the Queen, so life was easier there for an old man. He rented his farm here to a Frenchman down the road who had too many cows. Every year when the berries were ready, we came here to our land to gather and hunt and fish and collect the rent. We were like the Indians in the movies then - we lived in a tent on our own land outside the white man’s house.”
“When the Federals came to buy land for the Preserve, they bought all the land on the river up to the line and sent my grandfather a check. It was more than many years rent, but we could not hunt or fish or gather here any more. Grandfather sent the check back with a letter written by his son in English after listening to him speak our language and a letter in French from Pere Francois. We never gave up the land. There is no more Frenchman farmer to pay us rent, but we still come to hunt and fish and gather foods.”
“I don’t know about that, but I will have to give you a ticket for the fishing with no license, and the Federal Game Wardens will want to know about those ducks. I saw you grab those ducks from the canoe. You are supposed to use a shotgun with approved ammo.”
“It’s easy when they are not flying. And shotgun shells cost money.”
“Jesus…”
“We gather from our land for our family food that The Queen cannot give us.”
“Still, you will have to sign this ticket. It’s not an admission of crime. It’s a promise to appear in court within thirty days and talk to a judge.”
“But I will be in Canada again tomorrow until next year. I would be lying to you.”
“If you don’t sign I will have to take you to the jail in town where you will probably spend the night. To talk to the judge in the morning.”
We heard the oars being put back in the boat across the river.
Ella called out. “We filled our baskets already - butternuts and blueberries and blackberries. Nobody picks here any more?”
Ray spoke to me. “My sister and her husband. They live here south of the line.”
As Joe rowed back across, Ella cast out a lure and soon had a big fish in the boat.
“Excuse me ma’am. Do you have a license?”
She looked at me as if she hadn’t noticed me before and said: “Don’t need one here. This is our land.”