It's a cold, still morning in November two hundred years ago. In the interior of what is know known as Alaska, the rivers and lakes have been frozen for several weeks.
Snow covers the ground and clings to the short branches of the spruce trees.
In a clearing, set back from the river a bit, are four snow-covered houses mounds of white with smoke curling out of holes in the tops. This camp is an Athabascan winter camp. Relatives and good friends, all members of the same band, have decided to stay at the same camp this winter and have built their moss-covered houses close together. Two men come out of one of the houses carrying bows, arrows, and sinew snares. Laughing and talking to each other, they put on long snowshoes, untie a barking dog, and set off with it across the frozen river and into the forest on the other bank.