North·In Depth

'It's our way of life': Ross River Dena defend hunting permits plan

The Ross River Dena Council's chief says that Yukon's environment minister is giving mixed messages to his community and hunters in the territory, as the First Nation continues to work to assert authority over its traditional hunting grounds.

Community's elders say that overhunting, protecting land and rights factor in decision

Louie Tommy, left, and Gordon Peter on a bridge overlooking the Pelly River. The two Kaska elders are defending their First Nation's right to issue hunting permits in their traditional territory, despite opposition from hunters and mixed messages from the Yukon government. (Nancy Thomson/CBC)

The Ross River Dena Council's chief says that Yukon's environment minister is giving mixed messages to his community and hunters in the territory, as the First Nation continues to work to assert authority over its traditional hunting grounds.

This year, the council told hunters that they required a permit from the First Nation before hunting on the First Nation's traditional territory. Questions have been raised about the council's jurisdiction, and whether or not the permits are enforceable.

Jack Caesar, the council's chief, said that Environment Minister Pauline Frost showed a willingness to work with the First Nation.

However, in a letter sent privately to four hunting organizations on Sept. 11, Frost said that "whether or not hunters choose to comply with the RRDC's requests is their decision."

That came as a shock to Caesar, who was unaware of the letter, addressed to 113 concerned hunters, the Yukon Fish and Game Association, the Yukon Backcountry Hunters and Anglers, and the Wild Sheep Foundation.

"My expectation wasn't comments of this sort," he said. "I think she was actually searching for ways to work together.

"You know, trust is a huge thing. What she said within the letter to the other hunters....it's totally wrong, I think she should be truthful and work with us."

'It's about protecting our rights and our animals'

Despite mixed messages from the government, Ross River Kaska are determined to assert their traditional rights, arguing that they have a responsibility to the land and that it has been over-hunted in recent years.

The Ross River Dena are one of three First Nations in the territory that have not signed a final self government and land claim agreement, and the council says that it has unceded rights and title to the contested land, in particular, territory located along the North Canol Road.

The North Canol Road starts on the north side of the Pelly River, at Ross River, and continues to the N.W.T. border.

Gordon Peter, the spokesperson for the Ross River Dena's elders' council and a former chief, says the move is not meant to be militant, or a play for power: 'we're going to use all our power to do what we need to do for our animals.' (Nancy Thomson/CBC)

"We're going to use all our power to do what we need to do for our animals," said Gordon Peter, the spokesperson for the elders' council within the First Nation and a former chief.

"It's not about power, it's not about anything else. It's about protecting our rights and our animals. That's the bottom line."

Louie Tommy, a 73-year-old Kaska elder, supports the permit hunt and restrictions. He says that he's stopped hunting up the North Canol Road over the last decade.

"What's the use of going up there?" Tommy said. "There's nothing but other hunters up there. You can't even make a good camp; you go up to Sheldon Lake, you want to put a boat in. Already about five, six boats there already. Same thing with Dragon Lake.

"Every year. And a guy gets tired of it."

Derrick Redies, an elected councillor with the First Nation, says that council took direction from the elders before coming to its decision to put a permit system in place.

"They spoke really heavily on the inherent duty and responsibility to be land stewards... about the decline of wildlife, and what they've seen on the land: a lot of disrespect coming from non-First Nation hunters that could be easily mitigated," he said.

Derrick Redies, an elected councillor for the First Nation, says the First Nation took direction from elders in developing the policy: 'our wildlife, we don't view it as a resource. It's our way of life.' (Nancy Thomson/CBC)

That disrespect, Redies says, runs the gamut from "almost seeing a whole moose discarded in the ditch, or coming across a kill that only has the hind quarters taken off and the antlers.

"Our wildlife, we don't view it as a resource," he said. "It's our way of life, part of who we are as Dena people on the land. It's a lot to do with respect, to the spirituality, to the animals."​

Redies says moose and caribou populations have faced pressure for decades, and now the animals are growing scarce. However, he added that the goal of the First Nation's actions is not to cut off outsiders to hunting.

"We're really just exercising our inherent duty to be self-governing, because we're not a signed First Nation and we view this as protecting our identity, protecting our culture, and who we are."

The North Canol Road starts on the north side of the Pelly River, at Ross River, and continues to the N.W.T. border. (Nancy Thomson/CBC)

'Entirely about political posturing'

However, some non-First Nation hunters don't agree with the Dena's stance. Clint Walker, who lives in Whitehorse but has hunted up the North Canol for years, says he's not changing his routine this year to accommodate the Kaska people in Ross River.

"The government is operating on a science-based wildlife management system," he said. "Why we would throw that aside and just decide, because of political reasons, we would decide differently for wildlife is beyond me.

"I've hunted up there each year and my view is the population is stable. If it wasn't, I'm confident our wildlife managers would address that issue with closures. This is entirely about political posturing, so I'll continue to hunt as I have."

However, Sam Holloway, a long-time Yukoner who splits his time between Ross River and Marsh Lake, says that he sympathizes with the First Nation's stance.

Sam Holloway, a long-time Yukoner, says that he's seen an influx of hunters from outside the region in the fall: 'they're coming here to kill caribou and moose and whatever they can get. They do not need that meat... they're doing it only for the sport.' (Nancy Thomson/CBC)

"Every fall, we see all these hunters coming in from somewhere else," he said. "They have $90,000 trucks, pulling big trailers with freezers and everything in them... And they're coming up here to kill caribou and moose and whatever they can get.

"They do not need that meat. They're doing it only for the sport. If they can buy a $90,000 truck, they can go and buy a steak in the store.

"I'm observant of the First Nation people here. And I see their faces darken, I see the look of deep resentment they have about these guys coming in, killing their animals."

The First Nation says that despite the government's stance, this year marked just the beginning — Redies says they will issue permits again next year, and will expand their authority.

"We're definitely going to go further. We're hoping to eventually have game guardians that monitor the land and enforce the Dena law. This is the first step."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Raised in Ross River, Yukon, Nancy Thomson is a graduate of Ryerson University's journalism program. Her first job with CBC Yukon was in 1980, when she spun vinyl on Saturday afternoons. She rejoined CBC Yukon in 1993, and focuses on First Nations issues and politics. You can reach her at [email protected].