The Camas
Photo by Nancy Anderson
In his book, Trees and Shrubs: Food, Medicinal and Poisonous Plants of British Columbia (Victoria: Banfield, 1925) James Robert Anderson (who attended school inside the old fort as a 12-year-old) described the Camas that bloomed every May in the oak meadows that surrounded Fort Victoria.
“It is commonly called Camas or Le Camas and so the name has degenerated into Lickomas amongst those who are ignorant of the origin of the name. It is a bulbous plant, bearing a spike of beautiful blue flowers, from 6 to 12 inches in height, belonging to the Lily family. The bulb, which is about the size of a small Hyacinth, is a common article of food among the Indian tribes of North America. …
“It is common everywhere where the land is sufficiently clear of trees and the soil rich enough, a rich black loam in open country being its natural habitat. The women go out when the plant is in bloom and with a long, sharp, slightly curved and flattened, tough sticks dig up the bulbs, which are from 4 to 5 inches in the ground. These are conveyed to a kiln, 10 feet or less in diameter, and there cooked, after which the bulbs are divided among the contributors, who place them in baskets and store them away for future use. In a raw state the Camas is perfectly white, very glutinous, and somewhat sweet. After cooking it assumes a rich brown colour, quite sweet, with an aromatic and pleasant flavour. The kilns of which I speak are hollows in the ground from 2 to 3 feet in depth, the bottoms of which are filled with large stones, on which fires are built until the stones become red hot. Grass is then placed on the stones, on the grass the Camas is heaped, and in turn covered over with grass and mats, and earth heaped over all. The Camas is allowed to remain in the kiln for several days or until it is quite cold, when, as I said before, the bulbs are divided up. This, before the use of iron utensils became known, was a very common mode of cooking. Besides Camas, other roots were cooked in the same way.”
In the Native Medicinal and Poisonous Plants section of the same book, Anderson warns that another lily, called Death Camas, also grew in Victoria. He described it, as follows:
“This is the variety which grows about Victoria in company with the real Camas; it also occurs quite commonly in the open parts of the province. Both have the same grass-like leaf as the ordinary edible Camas, but are to be distinguished by the colour of the flowers, the former being of a yellowish-white whilst those of the edible Camas are blue. Nevertheless, care has to be exercised by the natives in digging up the bulbs of the edible Camas on account of the resemblance of the bulbs. This is a well-known poisonous plant both to human beings and animals, the poison being contained both in the leaves and bulbs…. Experiments in United States show the poison to be an alkaloid related to the violent poison of hellebore. One-fiftieth of a grain killed a frog in two minutes. The dose of strychnine fatal to a frog is twice that amount. From this some idea of the intensely poisonous nature of the bulbs may be gathered.”
Submitted by Nancy Anderson
Posted on May 23, 2011, in General, History, Victoria BC and tagged Flora and Fauna, Special Interest, Victoria. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.
Fort Victoria Descendants 
The Camas Bulb
In waves of purple along the green shore
I see you standing there, proud and beautiful,
Tempting the yellow backs with your nesting nectar.
To protect your precious fruit, I weave on through
Praying for your strength and nurturing power.
I watch you grow and wait to savour your essence.
Your sacrifice is not forgotten. I come with gifts of respect.
My feet drum with the heartbeat of the earth,
As my hands shake to the rattling repetition of the gestating seeds.
I watch the future fall before me.
With the flame of fertility
I brush your sacred seeds with my ancestors’ song.
In the stamina of my families’ dance
I give you protection through winter’s rest.
It is a blessing to witness your gifts, & share your offerings.
In your honour I have brought the power of the sun and return
your sacredness.
Cheryl Bryce
The Pit Cook – Some Call It Indian Summer
This is the Lekwungen summer of many years ago.
This is a time when the bountiful crops of the year (including the sweet camas bulbs and clams) have been gathered from choice, often family owned sites, and are waiting to be properly prepared for winter.
The fall harvests for shellfish and chum salmon have already begun. Though before turning attention wholly to this work, the land will be fired to cleanse and clear it for winter’s sleep.
The broad scale fires are purposely lit near the water and allowed to burn toward the hills. The flames move rapidly consuming only the driest and finest of fuels, dancing in eddies behind oaks and crackling through the open, wind-swept prairies. The blackened earth captures the sun’s rays during the day and keeps the soil warm. Together with the fall rains, the underground world of roots, bulbs, and seeds begin to reallocate their reserves and renew their structures. The earth is reclaiming the impacts of intensive human efforts.
The burning of the landscape is not simply a chore, but a learned and shared responsibility. Burning represents an integral relationship of trust between people and their environment. The fires are an annual right of passage between a summer of abundant gathering and a winter of gracious consumption.
This is also a time for specialized summer groups to reconvene in the villages to begin the important tasks of drying, preserving, and storing all the resources that were acquired over the summer. Everything that was not eaten or otherwise used immediately will be procured and processed. This is a concentrated and coordinated effort, by elders and youth alike, in preparation for a season of ceremonies and feast.
This is the Songhees summer of today.
An intimate sense of place remains strong though many of the special sites of gathering and fishing have disappeared or are no longer available. Many of the traditional foods that are necessary to maintain a healthy diet are either inaccessible or are no longer safe to gather.
The burning of the land has not occurred for over one hundred years though many feel this is a responsibility that should be preserved. Modern-day issues, such as unemployment, diabetes, and school dropout rates, now consume a significant amount of attention and time.
Some important cultural resources, such as salmon and berries, are still annually procured by family groups. The songs and ceremonies associated with the harvests and land management of prehistory are remembered. Harvesters today, especially those who have never gathered from the land before, come away with epiphanies of connectedness and openness. This bond is not only a spatial one, but temporal as well. The eternal link remains intact because those who tended the land over many centuries before did so responsibly and with integrity.
There was one small camas harvest and pit cook earlier this summer. There may be one small prescribed fire to cleanse the site this fall. Slowly, the link grows stronger.
As Lekwungen summer draws to a close, the shorter days and cooler nights will blanket the earth as she rests through winter’s ceremonies.
Cheryl Bryce
Brenda Beckwith
http://www.songheesnation.com/html/reflections/pitcook.htm