In the annals of Squamish oral tradition, etched in the collective memory of generations, resides the powerful Legend of Wountie. This tale, passed down through countless retellings, speaks of a time long before the great flood, a cataclysmic event that reshaped the landscape and the lives of the Squamish people. It is a story woven with threads of respect, responsibility, and the delicate balance between humanity and the natural world, a lesson resonating even in the modern era.
The setting for this ancient narrative is the Cheakamus River, a vital artery coursing through the heart of Squamish territory. Even in those distant times, the Cheakamus was revered as a source of sustenance, a life-giving waterway that provided the Squamish people with an abundance of food, most notably the salmon. Each year, as the summer months drew to a close and the leaves began to turn, the salmon would embark on their arduous journey upstream, returning to their ancestral spawning grounds to perpetuate the cycle of life.
This annual salmon run was a time of great significance for the Squamish people. It was a period of intense activity and communal effort, as families and communities gathered along the riverbanks to harvest the returning fish. Using intricately woven nets crafted from the strong, pliable roots of the cedar tree, they would cast their lines into the teeming waters, carefully and respectfully taking what they needed to sustain themselves through the long winter months. The harvest was not merely a means of survival; it was a sacred act, a testament to the symbiotic relationship between the Squamish and the natural world. The people understood that their well-being was intrinsically linked to the health and abundance of the river and its inhabitants.
The Legend of Wountie centers on a single fisherman, a man driven by the fundamental need to provide for his family. As the salmon began their annual migration, he ventured to the banks of the Cheakamus, his heart filled with hope and gratitude. He surveyed the river, his eyes widening at the sheer number of fish returning home. The waters teemed with life, a promise of a bountiful harvest and a secure winter ahead. Before casting his net, he offered a silent prayer of thanks to the spirit of the fish, acknowledging their sacrifice and expressing his gratitude for their willingness to provide sustenance for his family. He understood that these creatures were not merely a resource to be exploited, but sentient beings deserving of respect and appreciation.
With a respectful heart, he cast his cedar root net into the river and patiently waited. The current tugged at the net, a tangible sign of the abundance beneath the surface. After what seemed like an eternity, he began to draw the net back in. To his amazement, it was overflowing with fish, a writhing mass of silver scales and powerful tails. He had caught enough fish to feed his family for the entire winter, a blessing beyond his wildest expectations. Overjoyed and relieved, he carefully packed the fish into baskets woven from cedar bark, a traditional method of preserving and transporting food. The fragrant aroma of cedar filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the river. He prepared to return home, his heart filled with gratitude and a sense of accomplishment.
However, as he turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the river once more. The sight of the teeming fish, still relentlessly swimming upstream, ignited a spark of greed within him. He reasoned that if he could catch just a few more fish, his family would be even more secure, their winter even more comfortable. He dismissed the voice of reason in his head, the voice that reminded him of the importance of taking only what he needed. Blinded by avarice, he decided to cast his net again.
He cast his net a second time, and once again, it was filled with fish. He hauled the net ashore, the weight of the catch straining his muscles. He unceremoniously dumped the fish onto the riverbank, his initial gratitude replaced by a growing sense of entitlement. He began to see the salmon not as a gift, but as a commodity, a means to an end.
Still consumed by his insatiable desire for more, he cast his net into the water a third time. This time, however, something was different. As he attempted to pull the net back in, he felt an unusual resistance. The net was heavy, but not with the familiar weight of fish. He strained and tugged, finally managing to haul the net to the shore. To his horror, he discovered that the net was not filled with salmon, but with a tangled mess of sticks, stumps, and broken branches. The once pristine cedar root net was torn and irreparable, rendered useless by the debris.
Panic began to set in. He rushed to the pile of fish he had carelessly discarded on the riverbank, hoping to salvage what he had already taken. But as he looked closer, he realized that the fish had vanished, replaced by an identical pile of sticks and branches. He frantically checked the cedar bark baskets, his heart pounding with dread. The same fate had befallen his previous catch. The baskets, once filled with glistening salmon, now contained only worthless pieces of wood.
Despair washed over him as the realization of his folly dawned. He had broken a sacred trust, violated the unspoken covenant between humanity and nature. His greed had blinded him to the consequences of his actions, leading him to take more than he needed, more than he deserved.
As he stood there, defeated and remorseful, he looked up towards the mountain that loomed over the Cheakamus River and Paradise Valley. There, etched against the clear blue sky, he saw the unmistakable image of Wountie, the powerful spirit protector of the Cheakamus. Wountie’s form was imposing, radiating an aura of authority and unwavering justice. Wountie, the guardian of the river, conveyed a silent but powerful message. The fisherman understood that he had broken faith with the river, with nature, and with the very spirit of the Squamish way of life. His greed had not only cost him his harvest but had also earned him the displeasure of the mountain spirit.
The consequences of his actions were swift and severe. The Legend of Wountie concludes with a somber note. The fisherman returned home empty-handed, his family facing a long and arduous winter. They suffered from hunger and hardship, a direct result of his greed and disrespect. The tale serves as a cautionary reminder of the importance of living in harmony with nature, of taking only what is needed, and of respecting the delicate balance of the natural world.
The image of Wountie, forever etched on the mountainside, serves as a constant reminder to the Squamish people of the importance of respecting the Cheakamus River and all of nature. It is a visual representation of the consequences of greed and the rewards of living in harmony with the natural world. The Legend of Wountie is more than just a story; it is a moral compass, guiding the Squamish people in their relationship with the land and its resources. It is a reminder that the well-being of the community is inextricably linked to the health and abundance of the natural world, and that greed and disrespect will ultimately lead to suffering and hardship.
To this day, the Legend of Wountie continues to be told and retold, ensuring that the lessons of the past are never forgotten. It is a timeless tale that resonates with people of all cultures and backgrounds, reminding us of the importance of sustainability, respect, and responsibility in our relationship with the natural world. It is a story that reminds us that we are all interconnected, and that our actions have consequences that ripple through the generations.