There are several ways to splice your stitching material, but the easiest way is to lay the new end along the core and wrap the new end with the old for several wraps (fig 7). Then lay the old end along the core, bring up the new strand and continue wrapping it over the old end and core, or you can simply tie a knot and keep weaving (fig 8). Personally, I don’t like to tie knots except when I do fancy filigree work, so as I come to the end of a strip, I thread the needle back through the pine needle coil to conceal the end. Then, when I start again I thread the needle through another coil to the place where I left off. If you want a simple quickie basket, this is the way to do it.

Figure 6: To form the sides, work each coil on top of the next.

Figure 7: Splicing

Figure 8: Weaver’s Knot

Finishing the basket is sometimes a problem. To avoid a chopped-off appearance, gradually taper the pine needles for a few inches as you continue wrapping, make a lock stitch then thread your needle under several wraps and cut it off (fig 9). Your basket is officially finished. Or, you can add another decorative round, perhaps a different color wrap, working right over the already-wrapped top coil.

You can decorate your basket with different colors of raffia or corn husks, small bird feathers or other diversities. Or you can leave the sheafs on the pine needles and thread them through the gauge, sheaf first, to give an unusual look to the basket. The sheafs can then be alternated to form a spiral design or be woven into row patterns. Beading or overlay can also be added by laying a flat strip over a coil, and wrapping alternately over the flat strip for a few wraps, then under the strip for a few wraps. Use your own ideas to come up with some wonderful designs.

Figure 9: Ending

You may want to pitch your basket to make it watertight, like the native Americans did before they had pottery to carry and hold liquids. Gather globs of pine pitch off the trees (once it falls to the ground it collects dirt and leaves) and melt it over low heat. Then strain the liquid to remove impurities and mix in some white wood ash to make the pitch harden when it dries and to prevent it from melting in the sun. Paint the basket with pitch mixture, inside and out, sealing all holes quickly before it hardens.

When you begin, don’t be concerned with making a perfect basket, just start. Enjoy learning to work the needles and see what you come up with. And regardless of how you think your first attempt looks-KEEP IT. It is very special to look back on years later; you will love your basket and appreciate every bit of effort that went into it.

Jim Riggs

“Rocking On” with the Paiute Deadfall

For simplicity’s sake, I choose to label the specific trigger components described and illustrated in this article as the Paiute deadfall, state of the aboriginal art, if you will! Although a bit more complex than the simpler “two-stick” deadfalls and occasionally trickier to set, the bottom line is-It works.

The major geographical and cultural focus of my studies and The major geographical and cultural focus of my studies and experience in archaeology and primitive technology has been the Northern Great Basin, those contiguous, high-desert portions of southeastern Oregon, central and northern Nevada and western Utah. Physiographically, this region of hot, dry summers and cold, dry winters is characterized by hundreds of parallel-oriented, 4,000- to 6,000-foot, flat-to-rolling valley floors, separated by predominantly north-south running fault-block mountain ranges occasionally reaching 12,000 feet in elevation.

In this vast region of internal drainages, run-off water from adjacent higher country is sufficient and constant enough in a few widely scattered valleys to create large, resource-rich, freshwater lakes, marshes and meadows. But most valleys, plains and intermediate uplands are considerably drier—sinks, playas, dunes, low escarpments—seemingly endless expanses of xerophytic shrubs and grasses with infrequent, intermittent stream courses and springs. Long ago, I figured if I could sufficiently internalize the natural history, ecology, aboriginal survival strategies, material culture and skills necessary to comfortably exist in this marginal environment, I could probably get by primitively almost anywhere.

While the overall human carrying capacity of the Great Basin environment is considerably lower than most of North America, the appearance of barrenness is deceptive. For more than 10,000 years in this setting, the Northern Paiute, Western Shoshone and earlier peoples became masters, through necessity, at seasonally and successfully exploiting nearly all food resources—grass seeds to grasshoppers, roots to coots—from all habitats within their territories.

Vital to this success was knowing “when to be where,” especially with regard to variables in weather patterns, spatial fluctuations in floral productivity and more predictable faunal population cycles. Lacking a plethora of easily obtainable large game, predominantly elusive pronghorn and bighorn were advantageously hunted when appropriate, while the more prolific and regularly available rabbits and rodents provided the bulk of animal protein over the annual cycle.

Concerning the evolution of aboriginal human subsistence and adaptation in the Great Basin, Cressman states:

“Long before the bow and arrow came into use the archaeological record shows that hunters were using other devices for taking small game. Various kinds of traps—the snare, the deadfall, and others—were in use, together with nets which may have been used in a variety of ways. Using traps in the food quest represents a sharp psychological break with the method of killing the quarry with a weapon in that there is no longer direct involvement between the hunter and the hunted. The man with a trapline thus had a device for supplementing his food supply beyond that which his skill and luck as a hunter could possibly provide. The traps set along the game trails, whether those of rodents or large mammals, would work for him while he is engaged in some other activity or doing nothing at all (Cressman 1977).”

Contemporary Considerations

In any primitive living situation where one is depending on the natural environment for sustenance, employing one or more forms of traps or snares is prudent and often quite lucrative. With minimal initial effort (and some practice); one can assess the available small game in the area and set up a number of appropriate traps.

Once the trapline is established, it need be checked only once or twice a day for harvesting, re-baiting and resetting. In effect, it becomes a passive potential provider of meat, as Cressman indicated, freeing you to actively pursue hunting, fishing, collecting or processing plant foods, manufacturing tools or even sleeping!

You’ll also experience a definite anticipatory thrill, mentally and gastronomically, as you check your traps . . . Wow, Food! Sounds idyllic, but what traps do you choose to try, especially if you are just learning and have no backlog of experience? I’m convinced that in the history of humankind there have probably been more traps, snares, trigger mechanisms and various combinations thereof conceived than any one person could ever catalogue, let alone try. On a global scale, many of these were ingeniously designed for catching some very specific creature indigenous to an equally specific climate and habitat and may not be seriously applicable elsewhere (no need to continue brainstorming your surefire traps for wooly mammoths or California condors!). But others, no matter where their origins, are quite adaptable to a variety of creatures and environments.