Kaasteen

Long ago before western science documented the geological history of Glacier Bay, the story of Kaasteen, an Eagle moiety, Chookaneidí Clan woman was captured in oral tradition, mournful song, and form line design. We don’t know exactly when Kaasteen was born, although we know she lived in S’e Shuyee (End of the Glacial Silt), now Glacier Bay, in one of the villages of L'eiwshaayí (Sand Dune Country) in the mid-1700s. We can guess that she spent the majority of her summer days fishing in icy waters; smoking and drying the day’s catch; and tanning the hides of harbor seal, mink, and martin. Perhaps she wove spruce root baskets as most women did or bent before a loom to craft a treasured robe from mountain goat wool. The details of Kaasteen’s daily life are obscure, but her role in Tlingit history is profound. She is known and honored not just to the Huna Tlingit who call Glacier Bay Homeland, but to Tlingit nations throughout Southeast Alaska. The sacrifice she made on behalf of her people claimed for the Chookaneidí Clan what is now known as Glacier Bay proper. She is honored in ceremony and artwork, and her name is passed down to living Chookaneidí girls to this day. In a world where Tlingit men serve as kaa sháadi háni (leaders), she reminds us of the power of Tlingit women, ancestrally and today.

L'éiwshaayí, a pre-Little Ice Age glacial outwash plain near present day Bartlett Cove, provided abundant resources to the Huna clans for centuries.

NPS Image

Both Tlingit oral tradition and geological data describe S’e Shuyee—Kaasteen’s homeland—as a glacial outwash plain with a distant glacier at its head. For several hundred years the Huna clans lived in villages and fish camps on the edges of the broad valley floor along small rivers. Tlingit tradition describes life in S’e Shuyee as peaceful and idyllic for the clans who fished, hunted and gathered in an environment rich in resources. But life changed dramatically for those settled in S’e Shuyee when the Little Ice Age reached its climax in the 1750s.

The Native account of the Little Ice Age glacial advance is renowned amongst Tlingit nations. The tale has become synonymous with Glacier Bay itself and is typically referred to as “The Glacier Bay Story.” Although there are differing versions of the event, Chookaneidí leader Kaach Yaas (Jack Lee) notes: “Any time we tell our history, it strengthens us.” Chookaneidí culture bearer Lgeik'i (Heather Powell) notes that the story details are far less important than the lessons learned from it.

In many story versions a young girl—Kaasteen—was isolated in confinement during her first menstruation. Bored and lonely, she called out to the distant glacier: “Glacier. Here. Here. Here.” (Susie James in Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1987: 249). The power of a young woman in transition is great and the glacier which had laid quietly for centuries responded by rumbling forward toward the peaceful villages.

Quickly packing their canoes to flee, the clans of S’e Shuyee knew that somebody had to stay behind to appease the glacier’s spirit. In many versions of the story, the young Chookaneidí girl stayed, though other respected elders tell that her grandmother remained in her place, trading her own life for that of the younger girl. Still others say that both grandmother and granddaughter remained behind together, comforting each other as the glacier crushed the precious clan houses.

As Elder Amy Marvin tells, the clan members, though frantic at the rapidly approaching glacier, didn’t depart carelessly (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1987:275). The Raven clans took great care to offer food and warmth to the one who stayed behind:

They began going to her
With things that would keep,
…
Going to her
With things for her food.
“For Kaasteen to eat!
For Kaasteen to eat!”
In this way they brought
Whatever might keep her warm,
The skins of whatever was killed and dried.
They were made into robes.
These, “For Kaasteen!”
…
In this way, they turned then and left her.”

Two mournful songs were composed and sung as the canoes carried people away. Heading south, the Huna clans settled other nearby places that were not as rich or plentiful as their sacred homeland. In these temporary villages they withstood the privations of the Little Ice Age. When the glacier retreated—approximately fifty years later according to science—the Huna clans quickly returned to their “remembered landscape,” naming it Sít' Eeti Geiyí (Bay in Place of the Glacier). The remaining tidewater glaciers were reminders of the traumatic events that marked their departure from their beloved homeland.

The glaciers and icebergs that entombed their ancestor, Kaasteen, are claimed as crests by the Chookaneidí Clan, who paid dearly for them with the life of their ancestor. Kaasteen, captured in the ice, continues to help travelers navigate ice-choked waters and is fed and cared for by returning clan members.

In recent years, the National Park Service has partnered with Hoonah Indian Association, Huna Heritage Foundation, and Hoonah City Schools to carry community members to the face of Margerie Glacier, an active tidewater glacier in Glacier Bay to commune with Kaasteen and pass the Glacier Bay story and associated songs along to Huna youth. The long ceremony at the soaring glacier face is always solemn. Despite countless visits, the traditional mourning songs invariably bring tears to the Chookaneidí who still grieve the loss of Kaasteen. Providing kinship and balance, the Ravens hold their arms up to figuratively “shield” them from pain. Special foods like salmon and seaweed as well as tobacco are lowered into the water, recreating the moments when the fleeing clans took time to amass furs and foodstuffs for Kaasteen.

Amy Marvin describes this communion with the ancestors that occurs whenever food or tobacco is ritually offered (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1987: 277). This happens most notably at ku.éex’s (traditional ceremonies), but also at the face of glaciers, particularly Margerie Glacier, in Glacier Bay:

Only when we know it went to her;
Only when this is done does it
Become a balm for our spirits.
Because of her,
Kaasteen.
And whatever we relinquish our ownership to
For Kaasteen,
When we give them to the opposite clan? ‘
Only after this do our spirits become strong.
It’s medicine, spiritual medicine.
Because of this thing that happened to Kaasteen;
This is what informed us.
When all the things were piled on her.

Chookaneidí clan members hold the Kaasteen Blanket, a handcrafted Tlingit button blanket, at Margerie Glacier.

Hoonah Indian Association Photo / MB Moss

The Raven clan leaders offer words of comfort and “bring out” their own treasures—blankets, vests, and other crest images—to show support for the grieving Chookaneidí people. Sometimes Kaasteen answers: a glacier calves, a distant song is heard, or the ice changes color. When this happens the mood of those present lightens visibly. Finally, the Kaasteen blanket, depicting the glacial ice and Kaasteen herself, is held aloft and all the Chookaneidí gather for a photograph in front of the glacier.

When the Chookaneidí speak about Kaasteen today it is with a mixture of sorrow, pride, and reverence. She symbolizes the power of a woman to move glaciers and ice, the resilience of the Huna clans who have adapted to a changing world over and over again, and the sacrifice that current generations continue to make on behalf of those to come. Most importantly, Kaasteen ties the Huna Tlingit to a homeland that forever holds ancestral spirits—her own and the many others who inhabited Glacier Bay long before its establishment as a national monument, then park.

An image of Kaasteen figures prominently in the richly carved interior house panel of Xunaa Shuká Hít, the Huna Tribal House, in Bartlett Cove.

NPS Photo / F. Schaller

Heather Powell says the various stories of Kaasteen still bind the people to the land and waters:

"We still put our gánch (tobacco) in the waters. We still have ceremony to reflect the first time that our clan had ku.eex (a traditional ceremony) and the first time that we called out Kaasteen’s name and fed her, the first time that our grandparent laid their most precious belongings out, knowing that they were going to be covered by the spirit of the glacier. Those things are still done. It’s still part of our ceremony today. And I think these things are part of the importance of the story."

Tlingit form line design by Ken Grant

References

James, Susie. 1987. In Dauenhauer, N. and R. Dauenhauer. Haa Shuká, Our Ancestors. University of Washington Press, Seattle. 514pp.

Marvin, Amy. 1987. In Dauenhauer, N. and R. Dauenhauer. Haa Shuká, Our Ancestors. University of Washington Press, Seattle. 514pp.