Uqausriptigun

A publication by the Selawik National Wildlife Refuge

In our own words

Selawik elders speak about caribou, 

reindeer and life as they knew it

Uqausriptigun

In our own words

Selawik elders speak about caribou, 

reindeer and life as they knew it

Hannah Paniyavluk Loon, Principal Researcher

Sue Steinacher, Editor/Designer

Selawik Elders

Published by the Selawik National Wildlife Refuge 

U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service

Kotzebue, Alaska

2007
For information on this booklet, 

or to request additional copies, contact:

Selawik National Wildlife Refuge

P.O. Box 270

Kotzebue, AK 99752

Phone: 907-442-3799

Toll Free: 1-800-492-8848

Fax: 907-442-3124

Cover and title page photos by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS

© istockphoto.com
Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Introducing the Selawik elders

The long-ago years of caribou hunting

Subsistence in the time before caribou

Traveling long distances to hunt caribou

How the elders hunted caribou

How many caribou they would harvest

Hunting caribou for clothing, too

Traditional hunting ‘laws’ and practices

Subsistence and western-style regulations

Reindeer herding in the Selawik area

Intermixing of caribou and reindeer

Changes in caribou migration since the 1960s

More caribou today—but are they as healthy?

Parting words—Advice to live by

The future of caribou

Map

v

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The upper Selawik region has nourished the spirits of countless generations.

Photo by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS

iv
An important note 

about historical 

photos:

We have found very 

few historical photos 

from Selawik. In order 

to help you visualize 

the scenes and activities 

described in the elders’ 

interviews, we have 

included historical 

photos from other parts 

of northern Alaska.

You can search online 

for these and other 

historical photos at 

www.vilda.alaska.edu

v

Acknowledgments

Just as the elders speak of how a successful hunt required the effort of everyone 

working as a team, a project like this requires the consent and support of many. 

We wish to thank the 2003 council members of the Native Village of Selawik 

for granting us permission to undertake this project. We also thank the NANA 

Regional Corporation and the Iòuuniaìiqput Committee for their unwavering 

support and encouragement. 

We offer thanks to Attamuk Shiedt, Susan Georgette and John Trent for 

guidance on developing the questions asked of the elders, and to Julietta Minerva 

for recording and videotaping interviews. This project could not be shared with 

so many without the expertise of translators and transcribers. For their skills 

we are indebted to Barbara Armstrong, Bert Greist, Ellenore Sunii Jackson, 

Sue Norton, and Johanna Ticket. We thank Ruth Sampson with the Chukchi 

Campus Iñupiaq Language Program for her expert assistance with Iñupiaq 

spelling and meanings and for her help with the elders’ biographies.

We are grateful to Clyde Ramoth for arranging meeting times, asking questions, 

taking notes, interviewing some of the men, and reviewing this publication. We 

thank Sue Steinacher of the Alaska Department of Fish and Game for her keen 

ear and creative vision in editing and designing this booklet. We extend an extra 

special thanks to Hannah Loon, who provided the desire, the sensitivity, and 

the skills to conduct the interviews, pulled all of the material together into a 

final report, and meticulously reviewed and corrected this publication. We also 

appreciate the careful work of Barbara Armstrong, Ruth Sampson, and Ellenore 

Sunii Jackson in reviewing this publication.

We are very grateful to the following elders who provided names and locations 

of the caribou hunting areas and reindeer camps: Hannah Davis, Ruby Foster, 

Bert Greist, David Greist, Delbert Mitchell, Sr., the late Johnny Norton, Emma 

Ramoth, Pauline Ramoth, Laura Smith, and Roy Smith. Thanks also to Jim 

Magdanz for creating the map from the information provided by the elders. 

While this project took teamwork by everyone already mentioned, there 

wouldn’t have been a project at all if not for the willingness of the following 

elders to share their life experiences and knowledge of caribou: the late Frank 

Berry, Sr., the late Marie Clark, Daniel Foster, Sr., Ruby Foster, David Greist, the 

late Eva Henry, Delbert Mitchell, Sr., the late Johnny Norton, Ralph Ramoth, 

Sr., and Laura Smith.

Taikuu from the Selawik Refuge!
Top photo 2007 © Mark Newman/AlaskaStock.com. Above photo of caribou trails by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS.

vi
The knowledge of 

elders is much like 

the trails of caribou. 

Etched into the 

memory of the earth 

by the passage of 

countless preceding 

generations, they 

point the way for 

future generations 

to follow. 

“What is given in the right way cannot be forgotten.”

—David Nasraíniq Greist, Selawik Elder

Introduction

Wildlife biologists have recorded the movements of Alaska’s Western Arctic 

Caribou Herd using small planes and radio collars since the 1970s, but their 

methods tell us very little about the migration routes and behavior of the caribou 

before this time. 

To better understand the history of this caribou herd that now ranges seasonally 

from Norton Sound to the North Slope and from Point Hope to Anaktuvuk 

Pass, staff at the Selawik National Wildlife Refuge turned to the knowledge 

of elders in Selawik. They also enlisted the help of Selawik resident, Hannah 

Loon. This booklet is the result of Hannah’s efforts, assisted by Clyde Ramoth, 

to document Selawik elders’ knowledge about caribou, caribou hunting, and 

reindeer herding in the Selawik area. 

Hannah and Clyde recorded interviews with a number of Selawik elders in 2003. 

These elders spoke eloquently and knowledgably in their Iñupiaq language, 

which is the way Native wisdom and experience have been shared for thousands 

of years. These interviews have now been translated from their original Iñupiaq, 

and edited for print. 

Despite the limitation of the English language and the printed page, we hope 

that you will appreciate the life experiences of Selawik’s elders, and understand 

how their customary caribou hunting practices reveal valuable knowledge 

about caribou. Their personal stories also dramatically highlight the remarkable 

endurance, ingenuity, and compassion that are the foundation of the Iñupiaq 

way of life. 

This historical knowledge of caribou and reindeer, in combination with current 

observations by local residents and on-going biological research, gives us the best 

foundation for insuring the future health and abundance of the Western Arctic 

Caribou Herd. We also hope that this project will serve as a model for other 

villages that wish to document and preserve the knowledge of their elders. 

We need the wisdom of the past to guide us wisely into the future.

1
Pauline Ramoth, 

Laura Smith, 

and Hannah 

Davis

Ruby 

Foster being interviewed by 

Hannah Loon

Daniel Foster, Sr. 

being interviewed by 

Clyde Ramoth

Ruby Foster, Roy 

Smith, and the late 

Johnny Norton

Photos by Hannah Loon (top and bottom), Clyde Ramoth, Sr. (center right), and Steve Hillebrand/USFWS (center left).

2
3

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.

Introducing the Selawik Elders

The elders highlighted below were willing and available to be 

interviewed at the time of this project. Many additional Selawik 

elders contributed to this project by assisting with map locations, 

encouraging friends to share their stories, and by simply living a 

life that has embraced the traditional knowledge which we hope to 

preserve and share in this booklet. We appreciate them all because 

every elder has contributed in one way or another.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

Daniel Sipahk (Sipaaq) Foster was born in Selawik in 1942 to Johnny 

Tuuyuq and Faye Uyuíaq Foster, and grew up in a big log cabin near the 

church. From an early age, he was taught the traditional way to hunt, fish, 

and gather. At 14, Sipahk got his own dog team and traveled with other 

hunters to learn from them. As he got older, he started to hunt by himself. 

He learned the country well, the different ways to hunt for animals, and 

especially the seasons for getting them. Sipahk hunted for his parents and 

his wife’s parents, and also shared his catch with others. He is a long-time 

carpenter, village leader, and church pastor. He and his wife, Mildred, have 

a large family. 

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

Ruby Ayaqiñ Foster was born in 1922 in Maílausriaq, at the mouth of 

Kuugruaq River. Her mother, Aínaqialuk, died when she was was two, and she 

was raised by her father, Nuiyaaqpak. Around 1930, her father moved the family 

to Tivlich where he trapped. Ayaqiñ and her brother and sister were looked after 

by their aunts, Eunice Aíniyalaq Clark and Maggie Russell, who sewed parkas 

and mukluks for them. Their father trapped and provided food for the family 

until he died in 1944. In 1947 Ayaqiñ married William Annasrugaq Foster. 

They moved to Selawik and raised five sons and three daughters there. Ayaqiñ

worked for many years as a bilingual teacher in Selawik for the Northwest 

Arctic Borough School District. She loves to fish and pick berries. She is also an 

active member of the Friends Church. 

Ralph Ayyatañaq Ramoth was born in Selawik in 1932 to Frank Alían and 

Topsy Atañaiyiq Ramoth. His father, who had moved to Selawik from Kobuk 

around 1920, died when Ayyatañaq was six. Ayyatañaq continued to learn and 

became a highly respected traditional hunter and trapper. He has also been a 

lifelong carpenter, electrician, and maintenance man. Ayyatañaq has devoted 

many years to Selawik as a tribal leader. His excellent skills in both English and 

Iñupiaq have helped the village successfully communicate and coordinate with 

outside agencies.
6

Laura Smith 

and Hannah 

Loon

David Greist and 

Emma Ramoth

Mildred Foster

Johnny Norton and 

Susan Georgette

Photos by Clyde Ramoth, Sr. (top), Hannah Loon (center right), and Steve Hillebrand/USFWS (center left and bottom).

4
David Nasragniq Greist

David Nasraíniq Greist was born to Kunagrak and Katak Greist in 1917. An 

older brother of Laura Smith, he was raised in Anallaaq (Collinson Point), 25 

miles west of Kaktovik, and also in Kitliq (Killik River). In spring his parents 

fished and hunted sea mammals, and in fall they hunted sheep. His father died 

suddenly in 1938, and the family traveled from Kitliq to Shungnak. Nasraíniq

later moved to Selawik, where he met and married his wife, Bertha, and raised a 

family. He is still active as a commercial fisherman and community volunteer.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark was born in 1928 to Mike Qanaiyaaluk and Emma 

Nasraqpiiñaq Burnette of Selawik. She was taught how to hunt small game, tan 

skins, and sew clothing. It was essential for young women to become skilled skin 

sewers before marriage. Iqitqiraq lived around Ukallit Iñíii (Rabbit Mountain), 

where rabbits and ptarmigan were abundant. She moved to Selawik after she 

met and married Virgil Sikitkuaq Clark, Sr., who built a log cabin for her. They 

hunted in the Rabbit Mountains and rafted down the Selawik River in spring. 

Iqitqiraq was a church pastor and community volunteer for many years. She 

taught her children how to gather subsistence foods and preserve them for winter 

use. Iqitqiraq passed away since recording these interviews.

Johnn Mikiana Norton

Johnny Mikiana Norton was born in Selawik in 1930 to Edward Iñuíuq and 

Nora Paaniikaaluk Norton of Selawik. He attended school up to 6th grade. He 

left school when he was old enough to help his family with boating, fishing, and 

hunting. Mikiana was a journeyman carpenter, painter, and mason, and traveled 

to many parts of Alaska. He was a volunteer head cook for many Selawik 

gatherings, and one of the community’s skilled coffin makers. He enjoyed 

making people laugh. He loved to share his knowledge and talents with his 

children, grandchildren, and others in the community. Mikiana passed away in 

2006.

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

Laura Iguaqpak Smith was born to Kunagrak and Katak Greist in 1926. Younger 

sister to David Greist, she was raised in Anallaaq (Collinson Point), 25 miles 

west of Kaktovik, and also in Kitliq (Killik River). In March 1938 her father 

died suddenly, leaving behind her mother and siblings Levi, Flora, Stephan, 

David, Nelson, and Sarah. Later that spring her family left Kitliq and traveled 

by dog team across the mountains to Shungnak. In 1945 Iguaqpak, her mother, 

and an uncle moved to Selawik where two of her brothers lived. Iguaqpak met 

and married Roy Atauqutaq Smith. She worked as a school cook until her 

retirement, and is well-known for her sewing skills. She and her husband raised a 

family and have many grandchildren now. 

5
Clyde Ramoth 

and Eva Henry

Emma 

Ramoth

Laura and Roy Smith

Bert Greist, 

Delbert Mitchell, 

and Johnny Norton

Photos by Hannah Loon (top and bottom), Clyde Ramoth, Sr. (center right), and Steve Hillebrand/USFWS (center left).

6
Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

Frank Quñuyuk Berry, Sr. was born near Shungnak in 1924 and raised in the 

headwaters of the Kobuk River. His parents were Louis Tulugaq and Pansy 

Iòaíak Berry of Shungnak. Quñuyuk grew up where there were very few people 

and did not attend school much, but he was well-educated in the traditional 

ways. When the salmon would return, he learned from his mother how to 

harvest them, and from his father he learned how to hunt many kinds of 

animals. Quñuyuk moved to Selawik around 1950, married Mabel Puya Kolhok, 

and raised a family there. Among his many other activities, he was also a longtime gold miner. Quñuyuk has passed away since these interviews were recorded. 

Delbert Qigñak Mitchell, Sr.

Delbert Qiíòak Mitchell has been a resident of Selawik all his life. His parents 

were Harry Utuayuk and Mabel Qutan Mitchell. Born in 1932, Qiíòak grew up 

in the traditional life, gathering wood for fuel, trapping, and hunting muskrats 

in his early years. He first learned to hunt caribou on a two-week dog team trip 

with his father. He proudly served in the National Guard, and has been a skilled 

carpenter all his adult life. Qiíòak is married to Mary B. Tuuníauraq Mitchell, 

and actively supports his community as a volunteer member of the search and 

rescue crew. 

Eva Kitik Henr

Eva Kitik Henry was born in Selawik in 1919 to Naagaayiq and Niaqutchiaq,

and was raised in the village by Igauna and Paniyauraq. She attended school, and 

did especially well in English and math. She recalled that school started only 

when the ice was thick enough for people to cross the river, and that children 

went home for lunch. Kitik wore berets of many colors and knew many songs, 

Bible texts, and stories by heart. She was an avid berry picker and loved to knit, 

crochet, and make and repair gillnets. She is remembered for being outgoing and 

full of laughter, and for always having kind words of advice for children. Kitik

has passed away since these interviews were recorded. 

7
Caribou crossing the Kobuk River.

2007 © Nick Jans/AlaskaStock.com

This drawing was done in 1968 by 

Simon Paneak of Anaktuvuk Pass, 

showing how they hunted caribou from 

kayaks long ago. While the drawing 

isn’t from Selawik, the hunting method 

is very similar to that described by 

Ayyatañaq.

Drawing used by permission of Jack Martin Campbell.

8
“One wonders about 

those who lived in 

other places and time 

before us, and how 

they did it.”

—Ayaqiñ

“The people would be 

waiting there with their 

kayaks. They killed the 

caribou with spears 

while they were crossing 

the lake.” 

—Ayyatañaq

Early 1900s photo 

of a Selawik family.

Archives, Univ. of AK Fairbanks, 1988-53-2

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

9

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.

The long-ago years of caribou hunting

Some of Selawik’s elders remembered what their own elders told 

them about how caribou were hunted long ago. For thousands of 

years critical survival knowledge was passed on from generation to 

generation through the telling of stories. 

Long time ago, before the white man, some tribes were living around the Kobuk 

River area, back in 1885. They would scatter and move seasonally. They moved 

around from their fishing area to look for caribou. In August or September they 

traveled north to hunt for caribou and camp. My mom used to talk about how 

our grandfather used to go hunt out in the Brooks Range.

There was a ridge the caribou followed. The people piled up the rocks to make 

them look like humans. Some people were behind the caribou and drove them 

down that ridge to the lake. The people would be waiting there with their 

kayaks. They killed the caribou with spears while they were crossing the lake. 

That was back somewhere like 1885. These are true stories that I heard about the 

caribou.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

The caribou were far. In the earlier years our fathers went hunting qauña [out 

there] past Shungnak. They would be gone for weeks and months. That’s how far 

the caribou were in those days. They hunted in the winter time. In the fall time, 

the caribou didn’t migrate this way. This was around the 1930s and 1940s. We 

used to uumaíiaq [go get alder for firewood] when they went hunting north.

One wonders about those who lived in other places and time before us, and how 

they did it. The ones before us starved when they had no food. Back then there 

was no white man’s food like flour, coffee, salt.
These are early 1900s photos from 

Selawik. They can be found online 

by searching under ‘Selawik’ at: 

www.vilda.alaska.edu

The group is identified as: 

Top row, L-R: Aniuvak, Robert 

Smith, Taluqruaq Jones, 

Kitty Qitupan Gravey.

Bottom row, L-R: Charlie 

Jones, Sr., Ellen Makpiiq Jones, 

Mabel Jones Mitchell, 

Bert Akumgan Jones, 1908.

The above couple is identified as Lydia 

Foster and Jim Sheldon, 1908. 

1988-53-5

All photos on this page courtesy of Archives, 

Alaska & Polar Regions Collection, Rasmuson 

Library, University of Alaska Fairbanks

1988-53-6

Selawik musicians, with Emma Skin (Ralph 

Ramoth’s father’s sister) 

in front with guitar, 1908.

1988-53-4

Rafting the Selawik River, 1920s.

2003-183-3

10
“When fall season 

started we went to 

Ikkuiyiq to get fish. 

When we were done 

with fishing, we started 

preparing for trapping. 

There were no caribou 

or moose around 

here then.”

—Nasraíniq

“We just ate fish, 

ptarmigan and rabbit. 

That is all. There were 

no caribou around 

during that time—

absolutely none.” 

—Ayaqiñ

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

11

Subsistence in the time before caribou

During much of the lifetime of the elders interviewed, caribou were 

scarce and very far away. Selawik people relied heavily on fishing 

and trapping in earlier days. The elders describe the main foods that 

people of Selawik harvested and ate before caribou became more 

available.

Around my time there were no caribou. We just ate fish, ptarmigan, and 

rabbit. That is all. There were no caribou around during that time—absolutely 

none. There was no moose and not much bear. I even used to go pick berries 

or nasriqsruuraaq [climb to a higher place to look around for game]. I was not 

afraid. There was nothing to fear from black or brown bears—there were none 

of these. There were no beavers, either. 

Eva Kitik Henr

My earliest recollection of life in Selawik was fishing. Our livelihood centered 

on fishing. We had no caribou around here during those times, and we had no 

beaver or moose. Just fish, ducks, and jack rabbits. This was during the 1930s 

and 1940s. 

David Nasragniq Greist

When it was time to trap they trapped for mink, otter, and marten. They went 

to Uummaq [wooded hills near Purcell Mountains] to trap for qapvaitchiaq

[marten]. As spring neared and the trapping season closed, they traveled with 

their belongings to their spring camps. They went to the Tagraívik, Sii–vik, or 

Kuugruaq rivers. 

In fall the Iñupiaq people in Selawik would start to think of gathering fish for 

dog food to be used in winter. When fall season started, we went to Ikkuiyiq

[Fish River] to get fish. When we were done with fishing, we started preparing 

for trapping. In the fall I trapped in the Kuugruaq River, ever since I got 

married. At that time dogs were the only means of traveling. There were no 

snowmachines, and we didn’t have light powered with electricity. We only had 

akiyaqataurat [lanterns] that used kerosene oil. There were no caribou or moose 

around here then.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

During winter there were ptarmigan and rabbits. In spring there were lots of 

muskrats, and in summer fish and berries with greens. When my oldest son, 

Roger, was born, my sister-in-law, Sarah Clark, and I would hunt for muskrats 

when caribou were not in our area. There weren’t even any beavers in our area 

yet. During the winter, we lived at Tivlich, past Niliq, where there were trees, 

and where snares and trap lines were common. 
The Western Arctic Caribou Herd north of the 

Kobuk River near Ambler.

Photo by Heather Jay Huson

Anaktuvuk Pass hunter in 1950s packing 

with dogs on a caribou hunt.

Photo by John Martin Campbell.

12
“Before caribou 

came to Selawik, the 

people walked and 

backpacked over to the 

Noatak River, to the 

headwaters. They would 

leave early in the fall 

while the caribou hides 

were thin and could be 

used for clothing. The 

hunters also took dogs 

to help pack.”

—Iguaqpak

“I followed and learned 

about these from my 

father while I was a 

young boy.”

—Qiíòak

13

Delbert Qigñak Mitchell, Sr.

At that time in Selawik the people trapped in winter and hunted muskrats in 

spring. I followed and learned about these from my father while I was a young 

boy. People also gathered wood, grass, and ducks—the whole works. In winter it 

was the only way—to hunt and to gather wood. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

We did any subsistence gathering like rabbit or ptarmigan. If you were lucky, you 

ran into a moose. There were lots of snowshoe rabbits. 

Traveling long distances to hunt caribou

In the 1940s and 1950s, caribou were still many miles away from 

Selawik. People had to travel long distances by dog team and 

snowshoe to hunt caribou north near Noatak River, or in the 

headwaters of the Kobuk River. Selawik elders describe a challenging 

but rewarding life before snowmachines and electricity, when a 

caribou hunting trip took weeks or months, instead of a day or two. 

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

Before caribou came to Selawik, the people walked and backpacked over to 

the Noatak River, to the headwaters. They would leave early in the fall while 

the caribou hides were thin and could be used for clothing. The term used was 

qakirut, meaning they went north up and over the Brooks Range to hunt. The 

hunters also took dogs to help pack. They traveled one day at a time, and relayed 

their possessions to and fro. 

They also went up towards Kuugruaq area and also close to Rabbit Mountain. 

The caribou never came here, but they would go near Ambler, about 40 miles 

out. Sometimes when my husband wanted me to follow, I would go. I sure 

enjoyed it when we set up camp out in the country and the hunters came back 

with their caribou harvest. It was so good.

The first caribou came back around in 1944. They came over to Selawik later. 

The caribou came through Ambler one time when people were at church. 

While preaching, their pastor, Mr. Melton, called out, “There’s caribou!” and his 

congregation made for the windows to look.

In the 1950s, the hunters from Selawik would get as many caribou as they 

could. They would be gone for one or two weeks depending on their families 

at home, and if they needed wood. We always pulled sled loads of wood like 

alder [uummaq] or large willows for our use while our spouses were out hunting. 

Harold Kinnaq Ballot and I used to walk and get wood. The woods must be 

thick now that we don’t use them. 
The title of this 1920s photo is 

‘Noatak Trail.’

UAA, Archives and Special Col., 

UAA-hmc-0401-album1-13b

Anaktuvuk Pass caribou hunters 

enjoying tea and a snack along the 

trail, 1960s.

Anch. Museum of History & Art, 

AMRC-wws-3421-4

The Western Arctic Herd in 

winter migration. 

2007 © Nick Jans /AlaskaStock.com

14
Eva Kitik Henr

In the 1950s my father would go to the upriver areas to hunt caribou, being 

mindful and watchful of the reindeer herders. In winter he would go north 

through the Kiana and Ambler areas. They traveled by dog team to search for 

caribou, and had eight dogs or so in a team. They would be gone for a long time 

sometimes—one week, two weeks, one month and longer. They would leave 

their children and their homes during this time. They would take wood stoves 

along because of the cold weather. They didn’t have the luxury of using small 

Coleman gas stoves back then.

Johnn Mikiana Norton

We also hunted at Arguurañani or below Salliaíutchiich Hills, or around 

Añmanauraq [a pass through Rabbit Mountain to Kobuk River]. It was one 

day’s worth of traveling from Selawik to Ukallim Iòíii [Rabbit Mt.] by dog team 

when it uvluqtusri [has longer daylight]. If you went to Kiana, you spent the 

night there, then spent another night, and go again. 

Delbert Qigñak Mitchell, Sr.

Long time ago people hunted in the Noatak River area before the caribou started 

coming around here. In those years the caribou didn’t go south of Buckland 

in winter. When caribou first came, people hunted mostly towards Shungnak. 

It was around the 1950s or around 1947. They also went north of Kiana, and 

by Uummaq [wooded hills near Purcell Mountains] in winter. And towards 

Rabbit Mountain or Ukallit. We used to hunt there and camp in Nullaívik. We 

only hunted in winter then because in fall—no caribou. In spring—none. In 

summer—none, because we have to walk and it’s quite a ways. 

When I was a boy, I used to go upriver in Tagraívik and all over with my father. 

We were always gone for several weeks primarily to hunt for caribou. Once it 

was with my father, Andrew Skin, Billy Neal, and others. We were gone for two 

weeks with dogs. We had to travel by dog team taking tents and other things we 

need. 

Perhaps people were hunting for caribou in Selawik around the 1950s, but the 

caribou were not close. I didn’t hunt much, but others did. One time I followed 

Marion Kolhok, my wife’s brother. We went to the headwaters of the Selawik 

River, the Tagraívik River, the Salliaíutchiich Hills, towards upper Kobuk, and 

to Kuugruaq River. We had to travel far upriver by dog teams. I had nine dogs, 

and that was considered lots of dogs. There were no caribou around us here. 

It was only in the winter when people hunted for caribou. Long ago they used 

to go way north to hunt. They also used to hunt near Kiana. They were gone 

for however long they needed to be. Sometimes more than a month. We had to 

travel by dog team, and people couldn’t make it back in the same day. We took 

our bedding, food, mukluks, guns, and whatever else we could use while out 

there. 

“Long time ago people 

hunted in the Noatak 

River area before the 

caribou started coming 

around here. We were 

always gone for several 

weeks primarily to hunt 

for caribou. We had 

to travel by dog team 

taking tents and other 

things we need.” 

—Qiíòak

“They traveled by dog 

team to search for 

caribou, and would be 

gone for a long time 

sometimes—one week, 

two weeks, one month 

and longer.”

—Kitik

“Hunters were always 

away from their homes 

for a long time. It is 

a much easier life for 

hunters now.”

—Quñuyuk

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

15
Anch. Museum of History & Art, AMRC-wws-3421-44

An Anaktuvuk Pass hunter 

scans the landscape, 1960s.

The Western Arctic Caribou Herd 

on the move. 

2007 © Patrick Endres/AlaskaStock.com

16
The caribou were far and sometimes we could not find any. Sometimes we would 

track their trails and find them. There were not that many caribou then. We had 

to look for them. Hunters were always away from their homes for a long time, 

and sometimes hunters went home with nothing. It is a much easier life for 

hunters now.

David Nasragniq Greist

It was around 1946 or 1947. As I started to set traps, caribou appeared! I had 

a gun, and I didn’t lack anything. I didn’t set traps—I started getting caribou. I 

caught as many as I could. Yes, when I went home that time and brought lots of 

caribou, many others started going caribou hunting behind Kuugruaq. They ate 

caribou all winter when the caribou arrived. That was the first time caribou came 

in the fall time. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

The caribou started coming this way around the 1950s. There were less caribou 

then. When I started hunting caribou, I followed hunters as far as Rabbit 

Mountain across from Ambler and Tagraívik. I remember hunting towards 

Kiana. My relatives took me to Baldwin Creek. That’s where the caribou 

were. They didn’t migrate this way. The caribou didn’t go south of Buckland in 

those days because there were reindeer in Selawik, Buckland, and Deering. The 

herders protected their reindeer. When caribou arrived, they chased them away.

When we didn’t run into caribou, we went home añiiòaq [empty-handed]. 

Some years we had no caribou in the area. Even so, we kept going hunting. We 

rarely went home. Our dogs and our family ran out of food and we barely got 

home. When we returned home, we had fish which we had stored for winter. 

During those days, we made pits and stored as much as we could.

If you were lucky to have one, you carried a camp stove. There were hardly any 

camp stoves in those days, just gas lights. If you could not afford Blazo, you went 

without light. But we got by. When you had a wood stove going, it served as 

light. When you go out, you know what’s out there and get what you need.

Maybe around 1954–55, and I am guessing, the caribou started coming here. 

I followed my husband in the 1950s to near the Ambler area. We went by dog 

team. There were several people that traveled together: William Sheldon, Sr., 

Billy Neal, Joe Field, Homer and Ruth Larkin, Lawrence and Ada Jones. Ambler 

River is a long way with dogs. We would break trail by foot with snowshoes, 

taking turns in the lead. I was carrying a child at that time. William Sheldon, 

Homer Larkin, Lawrence, and I took turns breaking trail. When we got tired, 

someone else sivulliqsruq [led]. 

It was a long ways, as Ambler is quite a distance from Selawik. I think we 

were gone for a month hunting there. We had no groceries or naluagmiutaq

[commercial food] then. We would spend the winter upriver in sod houses. We 

and the old women would set snares for rabbits or ptarmigan. I used to check 

traps and snares above Niliq with a dog team. 

“When we didn’t run 

into caribou, we went 

home añiiòaq [emptyhanded]. Some years 

we had no caribou in 

the area. Even so, we 

kept going hunting. We 

rarely went home. Our 

dogs and our family 

ran out of food and we 

barely got home.”

—Sipahk 

“It was around 1946 or 

1947. As I started to set 

traps, caribou appeared! 

That was the first time 

caribou came in the 

fall time.”

—Nasraíniq 

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

17
The Western Arctic Herd heading north over the Selawik Hills in spring.

2007 © Joel Bennett/AlaskaStock.com

18
It was in the 1950s when I first started going out to hunt caribou. Well, at 

that time we had to go about 80 to100 miles from here—from Selawik to the 

headwaters of Selawik River and around Ambler area. In later years, the caribou 

started going south—more and more south until they started grazing around 

the upper Selawik area. That’s where a lot of people started going to caribou 

hunt around there. I even ran into some people from Shishmaref, Deering, and 

Buckland there.

Dog teams were the only transportation we had before snowmachines came. 

We used dogs to gather wood and to hunt for caribou. There were a lot of 

people who didn’t have any dog food at all—there were no commercial dog 

foods or anything like that at that time. They had to go where the caribou were 

to keep their dogs healthy during the winter. That was the only transportation 

we had—we had to keep them healthy. When the fishing season ended in fall 

time, why, you had to go up to where the caribou were and start feeding the 

dogs caribou in order to keep them healthy.

When the caribou were far away, you must keep looking for them, whether you 

catch caribou or not. We traveled in groups. You just kept on going until you 

started running out of dog food. Once you started running out of dog food, 

you had to share with the others. We’re used to sharing, and everybody knows 

that. And when you got caribou, then you shared with the others who didn’t 

get enough.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

In the 1950s people found caribou at Añmanauraq—close to Shungnak, and 

Salliaíutchiich—Rabbit Mountain. There was a place close to Argaitchuaq’s

(Joe Knox’s), even as close as Kuugruaq—Ukallit Iòíii. At first it was difficult 

to hunt, so hunters would go in groups. They took tents and stoves and would 

stay for weeks or until they got caribou to bring home.

“It was in the 1950s 

when I first started 

going out to hunt 

caribou. In later years, 

the caribou started 

going south—more and 

more south until they 

started grazing around 

the upper Selawik area. 

That’s where a lot of 

people started going 

to caribou hunt 

around there.”

—Ayyatañaq

19

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.

At first it was difficult 

to hunt, so hunters 

would go in groups. 

They took tents and 

stoves and would stay 

for weeks or until 

they got caribou to 

bring home.

—Iqitqiraq
Historical photos of caribou 

hunting from the Anaktuvuk 

Pass region in the 1960s.

Photo by Helge Larsen, courtesy of the 

Simon Paneak Museum, Anaktuvuk Pass.

All black & white photos on this page 

courtesy of the Anchorage Museum of 

History & Art, Library & Archives

AMRC-wws-4077-133

 AMRC-wws-4077-142

AMRC-wws-3421-81

20
“You have to use 

somebody to go move 

the herd, and someone 

else to hide while the 

other person drives 

them to them. That 

was how they hunted a 

long time ago.”

—Mikiana

“None of it went 

to waste.”

—Sipahk

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

21

How the elders hunted caribou

In the time before snowmachines, hunters had to work as a team to 

select and shoot a caribou. They needed to practice patience, and 

even wore special mukluks. 

Johnn Mikiana Norton

We used heavy rifles in those days: .30-30 and .25-35. They also used .303 

Remington with no scope. Sometimes one would not take any caribou home. 

Most of the time one could take a sled load home. They would harvest about 

four or five caribou. You have to use somebody to go move the herd, and 

someone else to hide while the other person drives them to them. The people 

hiding would shoot them. That was how they hunted a long time ago.

Delbert Qigñak Mitchell, Sr.

You have to walk to the caribou and try to get close.

It was not qaíananíitchuq [easy] to hunt for caribou then. You really had to 

hunt making no noise. When you iòuk [spook] them, they will go far and they 

run fast. You practically have to crawl to get near them and not use snowshoes. 

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

My mom used to skin the bottom-side fur of a caribou hoof. These were patched 

together and used to make real quiet mukluk bottoms that helped hunters when 

they needed to sneak up on an animal to harvest.

How many caribou they harvested

Hunters tried to fill their sleds with caribou to bring home to their 

families, but they also needed caribou meat to feed to their dogs. 

They brought home all the edible parts of the caribou, and stored 

what they couldn’t carry to be transported home later. They could 

not afford to let any meat go to waste.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

When we absolutely had no food, we traveled upriver and tried to get a sled 

load and return in one to one-and-a-half weeks. But when you have stored 

caribou, you just go get them. Sometimes you would get one, two, or three 

caribou. When you luck out, you would get about eight to ten more. None of it 

went to waste. They were all put away.
Barrow women butchering 

reindeer, early 1900s. 

Alaska State Library, Historical Col., 

Rev. Spriggs, ASL-PCA320-48

Hanging caribou meat to dry at 

Anaktuvuk Pass, 1960s.

Anch. Museum of History & Art, AMRCwws-4077-6

In subsistence both the work and 

the food are shared.

Mike Jacobson, USFWS

22
They would get as much caribou as a person is able to—and they didn’t leave 

anything like right now. They brought home the skins, feet parts, and head. 

Today the head and caribou feet are not taken home. The heart, liver, tunusrisaq

[the “bible”], and kivviq [“appendix” or cecum] were taken home. The only 

thing left was the stomach contents, and they used the stomach as a bag to put 

the innards in. That was real good.

David Nasragniq Greist

If a person had a small sled, then he would not take a large load. And if a 

person had a large sled, then he was able to take a large load. They hunted 

however much they were able to carry. When you spent time arranging the 

caribou in a large sled, then you could take as much as ten caribou. A caribou is 

light when butchered and set to freeze. 

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

When the hunters returned, they came back with five or six caribou in a sled 

load. The caribou would be butchered to make more room. Any of their catch 

left behind they stored by digging into the snow and covering them with snow. 

None was wasted.

Whatever animals they saw were taken for food. It could be rabbit or 

ptarmigan. They took however much caribou they could harvest. When they 

were unable to load all the caribou, they left some behind to get later. The 

carcass was cut into pieces and stored good to keep other animals from getting 

into it. 

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

At that time there were no [bag] limits. The hunters would get as many as they 

could, to be divided equally. Nothing was spoiled. The meat and skins were 

equally divided among the hunters. Unlike today, itchaurat [stomach fat], kivviq

[“appendix” or cecum], kidneys, even the iñaluaq [intestines] would be taken 

home. Now I just have isigaaq [caribou feet] with beans. Mmmmm.

How many we catch—well, it all depends on what size of a sled you got. We 

would always try to catch as much as we can while we’re close to the caribou. 

You would start feeding your dogs what you couldn’t carry home. You had to 

think about home, too, and what you needed to bring home. When the caribou 

were in good condition, you saved those for home, for the family.

“Nothing was spoiled. 

The meat and skins 

were equally divided 

among the hunters. 

Unlike today, itchaurat, 

kivviq, kidneys, even 

the iñaluaq would be 

taken home.”

—Iqitqiraq 

“Any of their catch left 

behind they stored. 

None was wasted.”

—Iguaqpak

“They would get as much 

caribou as a person is 

able to—and they didn’t 

leave anything like right 

now. They brought home 

the skins, feet parts, 

and head.”

—Ayaqiñ

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

23

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.
Helen (Seveck) and Bob 

Tuzroyluk of Point Hope 

show off the beautiful and 

skilled handwork that went 

into traditional caribou 

skin parkas and mukluks, 

1950s.

Archives, Univ. of AK Fairbanks, 

2001-129-45

Back row: Myrtle Williams 

and husband. 

Front row: unidentified child, Beulah 

Ballot, Ruth Amianiq Ballot, Edwin 

Ballot. 

Amianiq, who lived to be over 100, 

is wearing traditional caribou skin 

mittens and above-the-knee mukluks 

made of caribou hide.

Photo courtesy of Mabel Berry, Selawik.

24
“During my teenage 

years I learned to sew 

and tan. We had to 

learn before marriage. 

My older sisters taught 

me, and would let me 

start over and over 

until I could perfect 

a pair of mukluks or 

could make a parka.”

—Iqitqiraq 

Iñupiaq hard-bottom mukluks with caribou 

skin uppers and bearded seal soles.

© 2007 Jeff Shultz / AlaskaStock.com

25

Hunting caribou for clothing, too

Before western-style clothes became available, people used different 

parts of the caribou at different times of the year to make specialized 

clothing. They also relied on caribou to provide sinew for sewing, 

hides for bedding, and other uses. Young hunters learned from elders 

when to harvest animals for the best meat, fat, and other favorite 

special foods. 

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

My husband would hunt all seasons for skins because we had lots of kids. We 

couldn’t afford to throw away skins. I would sew mamuqqaak [soft-bottom 

mukluks with fur side in] for my children, and siktuuk [knee-length mukluks] 

for my husband.

During my teenage years I learned to sew and tan. We had to learn before 

marriage. My older sisters taught me, and often Esther would let me start over 

and over until I could perfect a pair of mukluks or could make a parka. Eva 

Henry’s mom, Paniyauraq, taught me how to crimp ugruk [bearded seal] hides 

for hard-bottom mukluks.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

People prefer to get the amiq [caribou skin] in fall time. I have never done that, 

but that is what I always heard from older people. When you seek fur for clothes, 

it’s August. The fur is just right for parkas and pants at that time.

David Nasragniq Greist

The bulls develop fat in September. In August, the fawn hides are good for 

parkas. The caribou are good when taken in fall because the hair is thinner. The 

hide is good and thick for mattress. In winter the fur is good, alright, but it 

sheds. Hunters also gather caribou leggings and sinew. 

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

The caribou with the best fur for parkas are hunted in the last part of July. 

Four fawn hides are needed for a parka. The hides are dampened and tautly 

stretched. Then they are ready for tanning. They are folded and set aside 

overnight. My mom used to clean and scrape four hides plus a bull in one day. 

In August they take bulls to make the soft bottom of mukluks.
The Western Arctic Herd on its fall migration through the Kobuk River valley.

2007 © Nick Jans/AlaskaStock.com

2007 © Mark Kelley/AlaskaStock.com

26
“You must let the first 

caribou go by. Let the 

first bunch go by and 

the rest of them will 

follow. For example, 

if the caribou start 

coming down those hills 

right there, and if I 

go out and hunt them 

right now, I could 

re-route them away.”

—Ayyatañaq

“As we were growing 

up, we learned from 

our parents and other 

people. In springtime, 

we don’t get females 

because they are 

having fawns.”

—Sipahk

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

27

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.

Traditional hunting ‘laws’ and practices

The Iñupiat were the original wildlife managers. They took only 

what they needed, and they understood the best seasons and hunting 

methods for protecting the future of the caribou. Selawik elders 

relate some of the long-held but unwritten rules that they hunted by. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

As we were growing up, we learned from our parents and other people. We 

followed what they showed us. We pick and look for bulls in fall. In winter, 

we don’t hunt for bulls because they get skinny. In wintertime, we get cows. In 

springtime, we don’t get females because they are having fawns. We don’t shoot 

any kind. We don’t just go after them and start shooting them. 

Hunters do not hunt for female caribou in spring when they are giving birth 

to calves. The Iñupiat did not have regulations. They were not familiar with 

[western-style] laws then. They hunted for what was available to them.

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

Some caribou were nice and fat and some were skinny. We used all the fat on 

the outside or in the intestinal areas for akutuq [Eskimo ice cream] or to eat. The 

skinny ones we used for dog food. If a female caribou was carrying, the elders 

loved to eat the unborn calf. One-year-old calf heads were also a delicacy. They 

did not waste food then—they ate them. But you cannot hunt caribou in rut.

You must let the first caribou go by. Let the first bunch go by and the rest of 

them will follow. The caribou will follow the trail all the way as far as those 

caribou go. That’s what all young people should be aware of. When you start 

catching the first bunch, it means you can make them re-route. For example, if 

the caribou start coming down those hills right there, and if I go out and hunt 

them right now, I could re-route them away. And the caribou all through the 

migration would be coming down from the hills and would turn and follow.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

Sii–viñmiut [Selawik people] wouldn’t eat meat from bulls in rut because it smells 

so strong during fall time. We also would not kill mother caribou with calves.
Hunters on the Kobuk River take a 

break after a successful hunt.

2007 © William W. Bacon/AlaskaStock.com

Caribou hunting at Anaktuvuk 

Pass, 1960s. Anchorage Museum of History & Art, AMRC-wws 3421-73

28
“This is what you call 

subsistence. It’s not 

a sport. Subsistence 

is what you need at 

home.”

—Ayyatañaq

“Lately when lots of 

caribou start migrating 

during fall and spring 

times, we don’t take 

much—just what we 

need.”

—Sipahk

“We had to share 

everything we got.”

—Ayaqiñ 

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

29

Ralph A ata aq Ramoth, Sr.

We hunt bulls for meat in the fall before they start rutting. They are not smelly. 

They are good to eat in winter, too. Although they get skinny, they are still 

edible. The caribou harvested in fall are good for killiíuaksraq [narrow strip of 

caribou or seal skin between sole and upper part of mukluks] or atuñak [mukluk 

soles]. The fur of the legs is short and very good. We had to share everything 

we got like moose, caribou, or rabbit. The families with hunters shared with the 

widows, like me presently.

Subsistence and western-style regulations

In the 1960s and 1970s, biologists reported that the number of 

caribou in the Western Arctic Herd had dropped dramatically. The 

State began to impose increasingly strict limits on the number 

of animals a hunter could take. This western-style approach to 

protecting the future of the caribou was not always welcomed. Today 

there is an effort for the hunters and the biologists to work together 

to make regulations that everyone agrees to and understands.

This is what you call subsistence. It’s not a sport. Subsistence is what you need 

at home. You always know what you’re going to have to get out there. Like, if 

you go out right now for caribou, you could go way up there and you could see 

a moose. The moose season is open already, and you’d get the moose. In earlier 

times, they didn’t worry about regulations. One person said, “Well, I don’t have 

no regulations. Nobody tell me about regulations. This is my regulations—right 

here in my stomach, when I’m hungry.” That’s subsistence. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

We añuniaraíniaq ami [worked hard to hunt and fish]. We lived the subsistence 

way. Even though they put limit on us, we caught caribou for the purpose of 

eating. I always tell my kids that I am an outlaw because I didn’t follow the rules 

back then, because I hunted subsistence for my kids and family. Lately when lots 

of caribou start migrating during fall and spring times, we don’t take much—just 

what we need.
Archives, Univ. of AK 

Fairbanks, 2003-183-21

Kotzebue reindeer herd in 

1915.

Alaska State Library, Historical Col., 

ASL-P240-215

An Alaska reindeer camp 

in the 1910s.

Alaska State Library, Historical Col., 

PCA-307-0095

Reindeer meat 

butchered for the 

Friends Mission in 

Kotzebue in the 

early 1900s.

30
“There were lots of 

reindeer when I was a 

child. Reindeer herders 

kept the reindeer safe 

from wolves. When 

they were corralling in 

Ikkalíuq, there were 

about 1,000 reindeer.”

—Ayaqiñ

A 1950s reindeer round-up 

in Kotzebue.

UAA-hmc-0396-14o-f34-6

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

31

Reindeer herding around Selawik

Reindeer were introduced into the Seward Peninsula and Selawik 

area in the early 1900s, and most Selawik elders commented on 

seeing large numbers of reindeer. They also remembered who the 

herders were and where they corralled their animals. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

Charlie Smith had his reindeer herd at Sauniqtuuq [spit near the mouth of 

Selawik River]. In one incident, they drove large numbers of the herd to 

Sauniqtuuq. The point [of the spit] was then very large and it had a corral. They 

drove the reindeer there around the 1950s.

In earlier years, the Smith’s used Paniqsiívik and Siñiaíruk. Virgil Clark, a 

young man then, also had reindeer in Paniqsiívik. I have heard stories that as 

a young boy Virgil Clark used to fetch water for those working in the corral. 

That was when they marked the ears of the reindeer. They did not put tags then 

which showed ownership of the reindeer. Chester Seveck brought reindeer from 

Kivalina side and bred them up there. Lawrence Gray took over that herd and 

had them in Ikkalíuq by Aasriíraíaañiq. Buckland side had their own reindeer.

The herders had real smart sheep dogs. They called them laavlaa [lap 

dogs]. When they qunñisaqtaq [go get reindeer], they went way up north, from 

Barrow side. They traded like that. They bred them. They got reindeer from the 

Nome area, too. I heard this from George Keats and Wesley Woods. Pupik [Ray 

Skin] used to record reindeer numbers. Superintendents used to pass by and 

report on reindeer numbers.

George Keats used to say that he came to Selawik around 1944 to go reindeer 

herding. Other herders were Chester Seveck, Lawrence Gray, Ernest Loon, and 

William Sheldon. There were people from Noatak, too. Lottie and Elmer Ballot 

were there, too. 

There were lots of reindeer when I was a child. Reindeer herders kept the 

reindeer safe from wolves. When they were corralling in Ikkalíuq [along the 

southeast shore of Selawik Lake], there were about 1,000 reindeer. August was 

when they slaughtered reindeer for meat. The spotted reindeer were good for 

skins, including the fawns. The fawn skins were good for parkas.

I don’t recall when reindeer arrived, but I was told there were many reindeer 

long time ago. They camped in Sauniqtuuq caring for their herds. Including 

pavani [back there—towards Uutauraq]. William Sheldon cared for his herd at 

Ikaaíiaq. Other herders were NalikkaÆuk [Charlie Smith], Panitchiaq [Tommy 

Skin], and Ai––uk [William Sheldon, Sr.].
Caribou or reindeer? 

Perhaps an elder 

can help you tell the 

difference. 

© istockphoto.com 

Chester Sivviq Seveck 

was a reindeer herder 

in the Selawik and NW 

Alaska region. He was 

an Episcopal lay reader 

as well. 

Archives, Univ. of AK Fairbanks, 

2001-129-179

The parkies worn by this Noatak family in a 

photo from the 1920s shows the influence of 

reindeer on traditional clothing. The spotted 

parka on the left is clearly made from reindeer, 

while the man’s parka could be either reindeer 

or caribou.

UAA, Archives & Manuscripts, hmc-0401-album1-18d

32
“The reindeer got 

mixed with the caribou. 

Although the reindeer 

herders watched their 

herds, the reindeer ran 

off with the caribou. The 

Selawik people kept their 

reindeer for a little while 

longer, but eventually lost 

them, too.” 

—Ayaqiñ 

“You can still recognize 

that it is reindeer 

because it has short legs 

and a short qiñaq, and 

also by the color. They 

are short when you 

see them.”

—Sipahk

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

33

Intermixing of caribou and reindeer

There has been some intermixing of reindeer and caribou over time, 

which Selawik elders say has influenced the size and shape of the 

caribou and the taste of the meat. A recent change in the caribou 

migration brought huge numbers of caribou far onto the Seward 

Peninsula for several winters. Contemporary reindeer herders were 

unable to keep their herds separated from the caribou, and their 

reindeer followed the caribou north in the spring.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

People lost their reindeer because of the wild caribou. The reindeer went 

with the wild caribou. Today, when you hunt caribou, you get half-breed 

animals. You can still recognize that it is reindeer because it has short legs and 

a short qiñaq [nose], and also by the color. They are short when you see them. 

You can notice the difference in taste—even the half-breed. It’s better to have 

reindeer. It just tastes good. I would not know how else to describe it. The 

caribou is wild. You just know the difference.

Once when I was hunting in stormy weather, there was a herd of runaway 

reindeer way up there by Kobuk. From a distance, I thought they were 

caribou. I headed toward the mountains and waited for them at the top. They 

took their time going up the mountain. When I started shooting, they 

didn’t run. Caribou usually run when you start shooting. So I quit because I 

understood then that they were someone’s reindeer.

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

Caribou are easy to recognize. They have long legs and reindeer are short. I 

can eat reindeer, but I cannot eat it all the time. I have been raised with eating 

caribou and they can be eaten frozen. I cannot eat a frozen reindeer too much.

The reindeer got mixed with the caribou. Although the reindeer herders 

watched their herds, the reindeer ran off with the caribou. There was nothing 

left. The Selawik people kept their reindeer for a little while longer, but 

eventually lost them, too. The taste of reindeer is different today. I used to buy 

reindeer from the store. Once I made soup, and it tasted different. It was not 

like the reindeer we used to eat a long time ago.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

Yes, the meat has changed, the taste especially. Just like you buy from Hanson’s 

[a former Kotzebue grocery store].
Caribou racks on display in the Selawik area are now common—

but not so 50 years ago when caribou did not range into this area.

Photo by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS

Man with reindeer in 

front of a small sod 

building in the 

Kotzebue area, 

1950s-60s.

Anchorage Museum of 

History & Art, AMRC-b85-

27-2687

34
“It is different today. 

Now the caribou come 

right through our 

fish camp.”

—Iguaqpak 

“When the caribou got 

mixed with reindeer, 

the caribou took the 

reindeer. The reindeer 

never came back 

once they left.”

—Quñuyuk

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

35

When the caribou got mixed with reindeer, the caribou took the reindeer. 

The reindeer never came back once they left. Those who had gone hunting 

for caribou ran into reindeer and shot them. This was later on while people in 

Buckland still had herds. The caribou can live with the reindeer. 

David Nasragniq Greist

The reindeer’s meat is different than the tuttupiaq [caribou]. The reindeer are 

domestic and handled by people. They let them graze. They are not like the 

caribou. The tuttupiaq have longer legs. Today all the caribou around here have 

short legs. They have become reindeer. North Slope caribou have long legs.

Changes in caribou migration since the 1960s

Caribou numbers are now very high, and they migrate right 

through the Selawik area—a dramatic change from what elders 

remember from their earlier years. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

It sure has changed, and now caribou are migrating by the ocean along the 

coast through Point Hope and Kivalina.

In the last 50 years it has changed. This area started having caribou around the 

1960s. They arrived from the slopes in the fall time. We heard many caribou 

had crossed the Kobuk River. Then the caribou would migrate back to the 

north in spring.

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

It is different today. Now the caribou come right through our fish camp. 

David Nasragniq Greist

Since then, the caribou started coming. At a later time, they started passing 

through Selawik towards the south. They started going farther behind Koyuk 

today. Even Unalakleet people are getting caribou in winter.

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

There are more caribou now than ever as close as Kuvraqtuívigruaq [Pauline 

Ramoth’s camp, about five miles northwest of Selawik].
Above: 

Selawik students, Lee Mitchell and 

Sam Ballot, help Selawik Refuge 

biologist, Nate Olson, place a collar on 

a caribou cow. 

Left: Selawik student, Esther Dexter, 

places an expandable collar on a bull 

caribou.

Collaring photos by Kaci Fullwood/NPS

Biologists have listened to elders’ 

concerns and have made the collars 

smaller and lighter, with the ability 

to expand if the animal’s neck size 

changes. The collaring takes only 

a few minutes and no drugs are 

used. Each fall different groups of 

students work side-by-side with the 

biologists in the collaring project.

More recent Selawik 

homes reflect a 

culture that relies on 

caribou, unlike several 

generations ago.

Photo by Joe Youino/USFWS

36
Biologists agree with elders’ observations that there has been an 

increase of parasites in caribou, but say this is natural because the 

herd has grown so large. They also say that eating the meat poses no 

health threat to humans, but recommend cutting out the parasites.

Blood samples are drawn from about 100 caribou every year to 

check for diseases and the general health of the animals. Even with 

the herd so large biologists are finding most animals are in very 

good condition. More extensive studies done in 2007 showed the 

Western Arctic Caribou Herd to be one of the healthiest caribou 

herds in the state. 

“Caribou are much 

closer now. The caribou 

even started coming to 

the village of Selawik.”

—Ayaqiñ

“The caribou were 

delicious to eat back 

then. We didn’t find 

sick ones then. Today 

some caribou have 

abnormalities or 

things in them.” 

—Quñuyuk

Rub A aqiñ Foster 

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

37

Caribou are much closer now. The caribou even started coming to the village of 

Selawik. When I worked at the school, there were caribou across from there. 

There were so many. Some even spend the summer and don’t migrate north.

More caribou today—but are they as healthy?

Even though caribou numbers are high and they are easier to hunt, 

Selawik elders believe that caribou are not as healthy as they used to be. 

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

The caribou health was good back then. But today some have white worms in 

their meat. Today some are really skinny. The ones with radio collars look pitiful. 

Even moose. I have seen them very skinny, including bulls. The collar is in the 

way when it’s feeding.

There is never a shortage of caribou, and they are all around us. But some 

caribou have become bad today. Eating caribou today is not as appetizing 

[qiññaqnaqsiruq]. The caribou were delicious to eat back then. We didn’t find 

sick ones then. Today some caribou have abnormalities or things in them.
The Kuugruaq River (left) where it joins the Selawik River.

Photo by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS

38
Rub A aqiñ Foster 

“As we were growing 

up, our parents and 

elders always told us 

not to get more than we 

needed. We should select 

what we need and not 

overshoot what we don’t 

need. You don’t kill 

them and leave them. 

You must get only what 

you need.”

—Sipahk

“The elders worked 

together in the 

past. Together they 

worked as a team. 

Today it is first 

come, first served.”

—Mikiana

Frank Qu u uk Berr , Sr.

39

Parting Words – Advice to to live by

Some of the elders interviewed have since passed away, and some—

thankfully—are still here with us. All have seen dramatic changes in 

their lifetimes. They offer words of advice to the next generations, 

about hunting and how to live a good and happy life.

Daniel Sipahk Foster, Sr.

As we were growing up, our parents and elders always told us not to get more 

than we needed. I want to pass that on to young people. Today we have fast 

snowmachines and good rifles, and we can shoot however much and anything. 

And sometimes we get to the caribou and find it’s a skinny one, one we don’t 

want. I hope they don’t do that. We always try to tell our kids these things. We 

should select what we need and not overshoot what we don’t need. 

That is what I would like to pass on. Even the ducks when they are skinny, 

we don’t shoot at them just for sport or to let them fall. There is a season for 

them that we like, and so we wait until then. This is what we advise our young 

people. You don’t play with any of the animals. You don’t kill them and leave 

them. You must get only what you need. Taikuu. 

We should only hunt when we need it and not play around with the animals. 

Laura Iguaqpak Smith

Pray without ceasing, help those who need, ask, and equally share your harvest. 

These were taught to us—never be greedy for more than you need. The owner 

of the boat gets more share, and the one who provides the gas.

Take the Lord and hold to him and don’t play. I did before and now I know to 

have the Holy Spirit in my heart. Ask the Lord to forgive us for our mistakes.

Johnn Mikiana Norton

The elders worked together in the past. We followed the elderly men—that 

was how they made us hunt. Together they worked as a team. Today our young 

people don’t do that. It is first come, first served. 

Marie Iqitqiraq Clark

I am very pleased I taught my kids and my grandkids the camping lifestyle—

how to fish and to live at camp during the summer, to store fish, and to put 

away caribou for the winter. We must all remember to camp, to subsist, pick 

berries, get ready for winter. Pimaktuuraíniaílugich—be kind and friendly to 

all—even if they are not your relatives. Set net anywhere, even at my camp. 

And don’t be stingy!
Roy Smith with 

Selawik’s future 

leaders, Jo Savok and 

Lona Norton.

Jetta 

Minerva 

learning 

from stories 

told by her 

grandmother, 

Laura Smith.

Emma Ramoth 

demonstrating yarn 

braiding to Delbert 

Mitchell III at 

culture camp.

Jetta Minerva and Hannah Loon 

spending time with Ralph Ramoth, Sr.

Photos by Clyde Ramoth, Sr. (top right and center), Hannah Loon (top left), and Susan Georgette (bottom).

40
Daniel and Mildred 

Foster introducing 

the joys of camping to 

future gernerations!

Photo by Steve Hillebrand/

USFWS

Hannah Davis and her grandson, 

Shawn Woods—a future Selawik 

caribou hunter and provider!

Photo by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS

Ruby Foster surrounded by 

some of her family.

Photo by Hannah Loon

41

Looking to the future with knowledge from the past
University of Alaska 

Museum of the North, 

© Barry McWayne

Caribou Working Group members and technical support team, 2002.

Photo by Sue Steinacher, ADF&G

42
The Caribou Working 

Group strongly 

recognizes the need 

to seek out, preserve, 

and share unique 

traditional Native 

knowledge about 

caribou. This booklet is 

one way in which that 

goal is being reached. 

43

Caribou and the future

By integrating and applying traditional Native knowledge, local 

observations, and western scientific knowledge about caribou, we all 

hope that caribou will always be in our future.

Life has changed tremendously since the early days of caribou hunting and 

reindeer herding described by the elders in this booklet. One change has been 

the growth of the Western Arctic Caribou Herd, and along with it an increase in 

the number of Alaskans with economic, subsistence, and personal interests in the 

herd. 

Some of these changes bring new challenges for caribou hunters, but at least one 

positive change has been the recognition by wildlife managers that everyone with 

an interest in the herd should have a voice in how the herd is managed for the 

future. To accomplish this the Western Arctic Caribou Herd Working Group 

was formed in 1997.

The Caribou Working Group includes representatives of subsistence hunters 

from across the range of the herd as well as representatives of reindeer herders, 

big game guides, transporters, conservationists, and non-local Alaskan hunters. 

The group works as a team with state and federal wildlife managers to address 

issues about the health of the caribou herd.

Native knowledge and western scientific knowledge have typically existed as 

two separate knowledge paths, but the Caribou Working Group recognizes 

the importance of both and the need for them to be integrated. The Caribou 

Working Group supports biologists placing radio and satellite collars on a 

number of animals, and conducting population counts and habitat studies. But 

the group just as strongly recognizes the need to seek out, preserve and share 

unique traditional Native knowledge about caribou. This booklet is one way in 

which that goal is being reached. 

No one knows the mind of caribou, or whether their numbers will stay the same, 

increase or decrease. However, we hope that by working together as a team—

much like the elders did who hunted caribou long ago—and by combining all 

available traditional, local and scientific knowledge about caribou, we can insure 

that this magnificent herd will always be there for the future.
44
45
We must all remember to camp, to 

subsist, pick berries, get ready for winter. 

Pimaktuuragniaglugich—be kind and friendly 

to all—even if they are not your relatives.

—Iqitqiraq

The upper Selawik River region. Photo by Steve Hillebrand/USFWS