A Signal From Forgotten History

We have walked past the strange old oak hundreds of times over the last ten years. When my three children were little, they named it the “rhinoceros” tree because of its pointed, horn-like protuberance, and the name stuck. Each time I pass it, I think of this name and wonder how the beautiful red oak grew into such an odd shape. For a long time, I imagined that the wind and snowfall whipping off Lake Huron in the wintertime, were the cause of the strangely shaped tree and yet, I have seen no other quite like it. I try to imagine what the world was like when this tree grew as a young sapling and what befell it.

The lands surrounding Lake Huron were inhabited by First Nations peoples and the lake shore is an area that the Saugeen Ojibway Nation claim as their home territory. It is these people I imagine walking past the young sapling that evolved into the rhinoceros tree. I reside on traditional Ojibway (Anishnaabe) land. I own this understanding with the discomfort of knowing that the land was obtained from its original inhabitants with false transparency. I often wonder what this land was like when it’s inhabitants lived with the land as opposed to in spite of the land, as we seem to now.

Through my interest in First Nations history in Ontario, I stumbled across an explanation for the phenomenon of the rhinoceros tree. (Evidently, my family is not the only one name strangely shaped trees.) The ancestors of our First Nations peoples used sinew to tie young oak, hemlock or maple saplings to the ground, so as to force the young, pliable trees to develop into unique directional signals resembling arrows. They pointed the way to critical resources, such as water, medicines or materials used for tool making. Such signal trees are marked by the arrow shape, but importantly, by the ball shaped knob at the tip of the arrow point, which serves as evidence of where the tree had been tied. (http://www.greatlakestrailtreesociety.org)

There is a general lack of information about the signal tree phenomenon, owing to the lack of written history, but more because of the cultural genocide enacted by the Canadian government upon the First Nations peoples, which interrupted the chain of Indigenous oral history. One American man of First Nations sncestry, Dennis Dowes, dedicated his life to documenting these trail marker trees. Dowes has incorporated the signal trees in his art work and has written a singular book on the topic: “Native American Trail Marker Trees: Marking Paths Through the Wilderness.” His website: http://www.greatlakestrailtreesociety.org has also attempted to document signal trees or trail marker trees, around the United States and in Canada.

As reconciliation with our First Nations in Canada progresses haltingly and ever so slowly, it seems ever more important to honour these threatened historical landmarks. No doubt these trail marker trees held immense meaning and value to the First Nations Peoples. Living on the shoreline of Lake Huron, one might expect to find these signal trees in forested areas throughout Ontario. Sadly, with the destruction of forests to create farm land, many of these once treasured trees have been sacrificed; presumably without any recognition of their value. Keeping in mind, that this practice is hundreds of years old, it is no surprise that any remaining signal trees would be nearing the end of their lives and thus the opportunity to honour this incredible history is quickly running out of time.

The signal tree represents one ingenious and elegant solution to the problem of navigation in densely wooded areas. Like so many First Nations inventions, the signal tree is all at once beautiful, natural and an incredibly useful tool. When compared to our current solutions to the problem of navigation, including hideously colourful signposts and vast noisy roadways one wonders at the parsimony of the First Nations solution. The great majority of us carry a cellular device, including a GPS system that will highlight our location and the locations of important landmarks. With a tap, we can orient ourselves and be guided by voice commands, to our destination of choice. The ease and speed with which we can now orient ourselves ought to give us time to pause and consider the historic signal tree with inspired awe. I personally pause to revere the rhinoceros tree along my daily walk and hope that I can encourage others to continue documenting these incredible relics in Canada. I believe the reconciliation demands that we work together to discover and preserve these trail marker trees, but more that we engage as many people as possible in discovering the oral histories and meanings behind these majestic living masterpieces.