Oyate - Avoid The Sign of the Beaver

It is 1768. Matt's father must return to Massachusetts for Matt's mother, sister, and the new baby. Until they arrive, Matt will be alone at the new Maine cabin. After Matt encounters a series of disasters, culminating in an attack by a swarm of angry bees, Saknis and his grandson, Attean, come to Matt's rescue. When Matt offers Saknis his only book—Robinson Crusoe—in return for all they have done for him, Saknis asks Matt to teach Attean to read. The boys become friends, although not easily.

I do not know whether Speare feels that she has broken new ground; her approach is the standard one for "Indian" adventure novels, since Last of the Mohicans.

The relationship between the two boys is uneven from the start. Attean and his grandfather save Matt's life, befriend him, give him gifts, teach him everything he neeeds to survive, and even invite him to go north with them for the winter hunt. When they leave, Attean even gives Matt his beloved dog. In return, Matt gives Attean his grandfather's silver watchØ"probably, Matt thought, Attean would never learn to use it." In the end, Saknis, Attean and their people fade conveniently into the sunset, never to return, driven from their ancestral lands by the encroaching whitemen. And Matt never does manage to teach Attean to read. But it doesn't matter: "'What for I read? My grandfather mighty hunter. My father mighty hunter. They not read.'"

At no point in the book are the Native characters allowed to speak in other than this grade-B movie pidgin. "That our way. All Indian understand." Attitudes toward women are those usually drawn by white writers. Matt's weeding is "squaw work." Attean's sister says of herself: "Attean think squaw girl no good for much." And, when Attean kills a bear:

"Below squaw now," he said. "I go tell." "You mean a squaw is going to carry that heavy thing?" "Cut up meat, then carry. Squaw work."

The feast following the bear killing is a wild and barbaric event, half terrifying, half silly. Attean comes for Matt:

With an ugly chill against his backbone, Matt stared at the hideously painted face. Then he recognized Attean... . "What's the war paint for?" he demanded. "Not war paint... . Squaws make feast with bear. My grandfather says you come."

Then he was aware of Indians. They sat silently on either side of the fire, their painted faces ghastly in the flickering light.

In a sudden terrifying yell the rows of Indians echoed the greeting. "Ta ho," they shouted.

Then began a sound that sent a tingle, half dread and half pleasure down Matt's spine. A lone Indian leaped to the head of the line... .He strutted and pranced in ridiculous contortions, for all the world like a clown in a village fair.

And so on. This scene bears little relationship to the leisurely feasting and ceremonious dancing that would actually have occurred on such an occasion. The only thing that Speare has gotten half right is the teasing and good humor with which the story of Matt's part in the killing of the bear is received.

There is evidence that Speare has done some research but her use of the words she has learned is often inappropriate.

One scene is quite disturbing. The boys come upon a fox, caught in an iron trap. Although Attean agrees that it is a cruel way to trap an animal, he will not free the fox, because the trap is set on the "hunting ground" of another clan.

"We can't just let it suffer," Matt protested. "Suppose no one comes for days?"

How could a child think anything except that the speaker of such words really is a savage at heart? This is absolutely contrary to all Native teachings. To cause an animal unnecessary pain was—and is—an unforgivable violation of the compact between the humans and the four-leggeds.

Stories of Indians, of living with Indians, of friendships between Indians and whites, have strong appeal for children. Unless the writing is truly godawful, a book based on such a theme is assured a wide readership and critical acclaim.

The author who chooses to write on a topic of compelling interest to children has, I believe, a more than ordinary obligation to write the most honest and revealing book of which she is capable. The popularity of The Indian in the Cupboard cannot have been lost on Elizabeth Speare, because children's book authors all do know about each other's work.

I feel that Speare has succumbed to the temptation to deal in sure-fire American Indian stereotypes, rather than to risk the controversy of portraying the Native peoples of Maine as they really were, and their lives, as they actually lived them.

One last thing: In Speare's book, the People have no name. But they did not go away. They are still here. I know this to be true, because I have friends among them.

from Through Indian Eyes: The Native Experience in Books for Children, edited by Beverly Slapin and Doris Seale. Los Angeles: UCLA American Indian Studies Center (1998)