In the Time That Was

In Short

This book serves as a literary translation of traditional Chilkat Indian folklore, primarily featuring the figure of Yaeethl, the raven—a deity who is simultaneously a god, a bird, and a mischievous scamp. Through the campfire dialogues of an aging storyteller named Zachook and his listener, Kitchakahaech, the narrative explores the origins of light, water, and human suffering. These legends, passed down through generations, remain vital for their profound insight into the human condition and their commitment to preserving the mythic foundations of a specific Alaskan heritage.

The Story

The narrative begins with a framing device involving an unnamed narrator who, while traveling in the harsh Alaskan Northland, suffers a severe accident after stepping into a hidden bear trap. Faced with the prospect of a lonely death in the snow, he is rescued by Zachook, a Chilkat Indian. The two form an immediate, deep bond, with Zachook adopting the narrator into the family of the Raven and bestowing upon him the name Kitchakahaech. As they travel together by dog-team and canoe, their shared life—punctuated by the rigors of the trail and the intimacy of the campfire—becomes the setting for a series of foundational legends.

Zachook, a master orator, gradually reveals the mythology of his people. The central figure in these tales is Yaeethl, the Great White Raven, who is driven by an insatiable desire to bring light to the Earth Mother, Klingatona-Kla, who lives in darkness and barrenness. Yaeethl’s efforts to steal the sun, moon, and stars from the Wise Man, Yakootsekaya-ka, form a multi-generational epic. Yaeethl utilizes his shape-shifting abilities to infiltrate the Wise Man’s lodge, first as a pebble and later as a grain of sand, eventually being born as the Wise Man’s own grandson. Through deception and the manipulation of the Wise Man’s affection, Yaeethl succeeds in liberating the celestial bodies. However, his triumph comes at a cost; in his escape, he is scorched by the Fire God’s smoke, forever blackening his feathers and trapping him in the form of an ordinary raven, marking him with eternal selfishness.

The cycle continues with legends explaining the scarcity of water. Yaeethl, again acting as both a benefactor to humanity and a victim of his own desires, challenges the Thirst Spirit, Heenhadowa, for control of the world’s only well. Through a series of elaborate, ritualistic deceptions, Yaeethl traps the Thirst Spirit in a spirit-house and drinks the well dry. As he flies over the earth, he releases the water to create the rivers and oceans, leaving behind the threat of the Thirst Spirit—whose anger supposedly manifests as the rumbling of thunder. Finally, the narrative shifts to the origins of common annoyances, such as the mosquito, which Yaeethl creates as a "torment of life" to ensure that humans do not forget the gods. Through this final, ironic tale, the narrator and the reader are left to contemplate the bittersweet nature of existence, where every survival and convenience is purchased at the price of a struggle with the divine.

How It Unfolds

The encounter on the trail The narrator falls into a bear trap in the frozen wilderness, facing imminent death. He is discovered and saved by Zachook, who nurses him back to health, establishing a lifelong bond of friendship and cultural exchange.

The promise of light Zachook begins the oral history by describing the Earth Mother’s pleas for light. Yaeethl, the Raven, commits himself to a long and treacherous quest to steal the sun, moon, and stars from the Wise Man’s locked chest.

The transformation and theft Yaeethl shifts his form to infiltrate the Wise Man’s household as a child. He succeeds in tricking the family into giving him the celestial bodies to play with, eventually stealing them and escaping through the chimney.

The transformation of the Raven The Fire God attempts to stop the escape, and the ensuing struggle permanently blackens Yaeethl’s wings. The Raven releases the stars, sun, and moon across the sky, fulfilling his promise to the Earth Mother while incurring the curses of the Wise Man.

The struggle for water Zachook recounts the second legend, detailing how Yaeethl tricked the Thirst Spirit to gain access to the earth’s only well. By spilling the water across the land, the Raven creates the world's rivers and oceans, though he remains a figure of complex, often selfish, motivation.

The legacy of the tormentor The final narrative beat addresses the origin of the mosquito as a divine punishment. The story ends with a lesson on the Woodpecker’s folly, serving as a cautionary tale about greed and the nature of shared, often painful, human experiences.

The People

Zachook is the elder and the heart of the narrative. He embodies the resilience and wisdom of the Chilkat people, using his silence and his storytelling to guide his companion. He wants to ensure that his culture’s values are not lost, acting as a teacher to Kitchakahaech. By the end, he remains a stoic, enigmatic figure who views the world through the lens of timeless myth.

Kitchakahaech (the narrator) starts the book as a desperate, injured traveler seeking only physical survival. Through his exposure to the legends, his perspective shifts from one of ignorance to a deep, contemplative respect for the Raven’s mythos. He ends the story as a man transformed, having gained a surrogate family and a profound understanding of the sacred and the profane.

Yaeethl, the Raven, is the central actor of the book's mythology. He is not a traditional hero but a "great thief" whose selfishness often drives his benevolence. He wants to overcome the limitations of the gods, and his obstacles are the heavy locks of the Wise Man and the limitations of his own form. He ends his arc as the creator of the world's natural order, eternally marked by his own actions—a figure who is both the bringer of light and the bringer of the mosquito.

In Its Own Voice

"And because of this same love of speech in me, and the limp I bore for memory of the bear trap, for these and possibly other reasons, and that a man must have a family to bear his sins, of the Raven was I christened by Zachook, the Bear, and to the family of the Raven was I joined."

The narrator describes how his near-death experience and subsequent friendship with Zachook led to his integration into the tribal family.

"He who fires in the air without aim may hit a friend."

Zachook uses this proverb to gently rebuke the narrator for his disparaging, thoughtless comments regarding the legends of the Raven.

"As you have shared with me, so shall I share with you."

The mosquito, acting as an agent of Yaeethl, uses this deceptive logic to trick the Woodpecker into a life of futile, hunger-driven searching.

What It's Really About

The work is a meditation on the cost of progress and the necessity of suffering. It argues that the world’s beauty—the light of the sun and the flow of water—is not a gift of easy grace but the result of a divine, often selfish, struggle. Central to this is the duality of the Raven, who represents the human capacity to achieve great things through cunning while remaining shackled to base, personal desires. The stories pose the question of whether humans are the beneficiaries or the victims of the gods' temperaments. Ultimately, it suggests that the "Time That Was" informs the "Time That Is," asserting that current human misery, like the mosquito, is inextricably linked to the mythic origins of our world.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the intersection of anthropology and literature will find this book deeply rewarding. It captures the atmosphere of the Northland with startling clarity, moving from the biting cold of a snow-filled winter trail to the warmth of a campfire where ancient, guttural stories are shared. The prose is unadorned and rhythmic, mirroring the deliberate, measured speech of the storyteller.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of 1909. The narrator’s voice reflects the colonial mindset of his time, often viewing the indigenous culture through a lens that might strike contemporary readers as dated. Additionally, the complex, non-linear structure of the folklore requires patience; the reader must be willing to let go of Western narrative expectations and instead embrace the repetitive, circular logic of oral tradition.

What lingers is the haunting image of the Raven—a deity who is neither purely good nor purely evil, but fundamentally human in his flaws. If you are interested in the roots of Alaskan mythology and the intimate, campfire-side transmission of culture, this book offers an immersive, if occasionally difficult, portal into a world where the lines between the animal, the divine, and the human have yet to be drawn.