Everything Old is New Again

By Claire Eamer

An atlatl is a throwing stick. It’s a tool used to extend the reach and flexibility of a hunter’s arm so that he or she can throw a light spear farther, harder, and faster. And very accurately. The word atlatl comes from the Nahuatl language of the Aztecs, who used atlatls in hunting and war.

A model at the Natural History Museum in Vienna, Austria, shows an ancient
hunter using a simple atlatl and dart. Photo by Wolfgang Sauber.

At its simplest, an atlatl is a stick with a hook at one end. The hook fits into a dimple in the base of the spear – usually called a dart. The hunter holds the atlatl and dart in one hand, sweeps both forward in a throwing motion, and lets the dart fly.

Atlatl throwing. Illustration by Drew Shannon for
Out of the Ice: How Climate Change is Revealing the Past (Kids Can Press, 2018)

Sounds simple, but it’s so effective that people on all continents have used atlatls for thousands of years, and many still use them. Although it has been overshadowed in most cultures by the bow and arrow and by firearms, an atlatl is still a cheap, easy-to-make, and easy-to-use hunting weapon. All you really need to make one is a small knife and a straight-ish stick.

These two atlatls, currently in the Houston Museum of Natural Science, are
between 12,000 and 17,000 years old. They were found in caves or rock shelters in France.
The animal carved on the lower atlatl has been identified as a hyena. Claire Eamer photo.

Of course, not all atlatls are simple sticks. Humans like to embellish their tools. A couple of atlatls found in dry caves in France have carved images of animals that have been extinct in Europe for thousands of years. An Aztec atlatl in the British Museum is elaborately carved with images of warriors or gods and covered with gold.

I first heard about atlatls in the late 1990s, when I lived in the Yukon. A friend, Environment Canada caribou biologist Don Russell, was asked to confirm discovery of what appeared to be huge quantities of caribou droppings melting out of a high alpine ice patch near Whitehorse. (For the full story, see my book Out of the Ice: How Climate Change is Revealing the Past.)

Dimples in the ends of atlatl darts.
Illustration by Drew Shannon for
Out of the Ice: How Climate Change is
Revealing the Past (Kids Can Press, 2018)

Don spotted something odd lying on the rocks beside the ice patch. It was a stick. Far above treeline, with no other wood around, he found a stick – with what looked like string wrapped around it and a tattered bit of feather.

“Cool,” said the archaeologists (more or less), when presented with the stick. “Part of an arrow, maybe even a century old. Very rare.” But testing showed it was even cooler. The stick was 4300 years old, and it wasn’t an arrow. The tell-tale dimple at one end showed that it was the remains of an atlatl dart. Long ago, around the time that ancient Britons were building Stonehenge, a hunter in the Yukon mountains flung a dart at a caribou – and missed. The dart disappeared into the snow and ice where the cold preserved it.

That was the first direct evidence of atlatl use in the Yukon. Wood normally disintegrates in a few years unless it’s preserved in some way – usually by extreme dryness or extreme cold. Cold is what saved the Yukon atlatl dart, and it has preserved other things too. Lots more wooden artifacts, including the rest of the dart Don found, have been discovered in the ice patches, as well as bone, antler, leather, and other materials that normally don’t survive for thousands of years. 

Kids choose their weapons at the atlatl range at the
Yukon Beringia Interpretive Centre in Whitehorse.
Yukon Government photo.

Today, most school kids in the Yukon know about atlatls and might even have tried their hand at them. Elsewhere, too, people are experimenting with atlatls. There are even formal atlatl competitions and modern atlatl hunters. It is, indeed, a case of “Everything old is new again.”

Ready to throw at the Yukon Beringia Interpretive Centre's atlatl target range.
Yukon Government photo

If you want to know more about the Yukon Ice Patches and see some of the finds, check out The Frozen Past, an illustrated booklet produced by the Yukon Government and the First Nations involved in the ice patch research.

If you'd like to see video of people throwing atlatls, here is the 2012 Atlatl Competition at Anasazi State Park Museum in the United States.


And, of course, you can always consult my own book -- Out of the Ice: How Climate Change is Revealing the Past (Kids Can Press, 2018) -- for the story of the Yukon discoveries and frozen discoveries elsewhere in the world.

Giving Turtles a Helping Hand

by Jan Thornhill

Newly hatched snapping turtle (photo: Megan Racey, USFWS)

In the past few days, I’ve had five separate close encounters with turtles—three painteds, a Blanding’s, and a snapper. Why? Because it’s turtle-nesting season and I was helping females get safely across the road so they could lay their eggs. It's nice to do my part even if they sometimes make my hands smell funky.

My favorites are common snapping turtles (Chelydra serpentina). They’ve been around for 40 million years and they look it. They’re very long lived—and long-necked!—and old ones can weigh as much as a ten-year-old child. In their wetland homes, they act like reptilian garburators, scavenging dead fish and other animals while carving out underwater routes for smaller reptiles, fish and amphibians. Because the snapping turtle’s lower shell, or plastron, is small, it can’t just hunker down and tuck in its head and legs the way other turtles do when threatened. Instead, snappers have developed an aggressive temperament and can be downright ornery. They have powerful claws and a sharp bony beak that—you guessed it—snaps shut, though not hard enough to take off a finger.  

A snapper can't tuck itself into its shell because its belly plate is too small. (photo: Jarek Tuszynski)

Like all turtles, snappers lay their eggs on land and sometimes have to walk substantial distances to find suitable nesting spots. Unfortunately, this means they often have to cross roads that are near waterways. Though snapping turtles are well armed against predators, their hard shells and sharp claws are no match for the wheels of fast-moving cars and trucks.

But even without the dangers of crossing roads, snapping turtles don't have it easy. They face heavy egg predation from animals such as raccoons, skunks and foxes, who can easily smell out freshly buried eggs and dig them up. And even when a nest is overlooked and the eggs hatch, young snappers still face so many dangers that the chances of surviving long enough to reproduce are incredibly slim, so slim it’s been estimated that only about one in 1,500 eggs laid will produce a turtle that reaches sexual maturity. 

Many female snapping turtles wait almost twenty years to they lay their first eggs. (photo: Moondigger)

Along with natural stressors, road mortality and severe habitat loss (southern Ontario has lost about 70% of its original wetlands to development), snapping turtles have yet another problem to contend with—hunting. Anyone with a valid recreational fishing license is permitted to "harvest" up to two snapping turtles a day in Ontario, with a possession limit of five. Considering that snapping turtles have been listed under Ontario’s Endangered Species Act as a species of special concern because of the aforementioned stressors, the continuation of this hunt seems unconscionable.

An adult snapping turtle with hitchhiking snails. (photo: Willy Logan)

What You Can Do

Help a Turtle Cross a Road

Pull over to a safe spot before getting out of your car. If it's any species other than a snapping turtle, use two hands to carry it in the direction it was travelling. Turtles often urinate when picked up. Don’t let this startle you or you might drop it! NEVER pick a turtle up by its tail—you could damage its spinal cord.

Snapping turtles have long necks that can easily stretch half the length of their carapace and they can also inflict a nasty bite or gouge you with their claws, so it's best not to pick them up. Instead, try using a stick or a shovel to coax them across the road. A snapping turtle will also sometimes latch onto a stick held near its mouth, making it easy to drag it across the road.

Protect a Clutch of Eggs

If you know the location of a new turtle nest, you can lightly sweep the surface to remove the scent or cover it with a board for a few days. You can also protect a nest from predators with a piece of wire mesh (at least 2’x2’) stapled onto a wooden frame or held down with rocks. Remove the mesh protection after 14 days. DO NOT disturb the eggs in a nest.

Report Sightings

There are various turtle monitoring programs in North America that want to hear about turtle sightings:

http://ontarionature.org/protect/species/herpetofaunal_atlas.php

http://www.torontozoo.com/adoptapond/

Help an Injured Turtle

Never try to nurse an injured turtle yourself. Use Google to find a licensed wildlife rehabilitation facility near you. In southern Ontario, contact the Kawartha Turtle Trauma Centre (705-741-5000). For information on how to transport an injured turtle: http://kawarthaturtle.org/blog/about/drop-off/

Support the Kawartha Turtle Trauma Centre

This non-profit, registered charity operates a hospital for injured wild turtles. They release recovered turtles back into the wild and also harvest eggs from wounded females, which they incubate and release after hatching. You can volunteer to be a Turtle Taxi driver, help with ongoing care, donate money or simply help to spread the word about their work: http://kawarthaturtle.org/blog

Stop Snapping Turtle Harvesting in Ontario

Write your local MP. Write Ontario’s Minister of the Environment and the Minister of Natural Resources. There's an online email you can send via: http://action.davidsuzuki.org/snappers