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What's in a name? John B. Zoe Guest columnist Monday, May 31 2010 Previous columns There are many stories from pre-contact when people were named after animals. Some have continued that tradition, and in today's terms, the names would be considered a nickname. The late Joe Beaulieu told his story one day in 1992. I shared this story with the late June Helm, an anthropologist and she replied: when she was in Jean Marie River, she fed and petted a young sled dog, called Sabine. Sure enough, people called her "Sabinemo," Sabine's mother. This is a story of Madzi?a's father. When I first started to become aware as a child, we were living at Old Fort Rae. There were a total of six buildings, and my mother and I were staying at She?e's house. It must have been just after my father died. It was the fall time, because there was a lot of fishing going on, and they were putting stick fish up for the winter. I remember our move to Franks Channel to my grandfathers, who was my uncle Zo?a's father. His name was Ek'wicho, and he had just built the first cabin at Franks Channel. It had a stone fireplace in the corner and they did their cooking over the fire by hanging fish or meat on a hook, and it sure tasted good. The next summer, Phillip Tinqui's father built his cabin there on a flat rock near my grandfather's. After that, Joe Gon's father built a cabin there, too. Later on, when I was a little older, my mother remarried. My uncle Jean Tinqui built a cabin where Nick Z's house is presently sitting. I remember there being only four cabins. I was old enough to get firewood on my own when my uncle Zo?a took me out to set traps with him, and upon our return, he gave me three dogs and said, I should use them for getting firewood. Early the next morning, I went for my first load of firewood to the area that is now known as Rae Junction. In those days, it was a new area, and wood was plentiful. It was not far, so after I ate I went back for another load. My uncle Phillip Tinqui must have been sitting at home watching, and he came out just as I returned, "Aezeh, you sure are using good dogs," he said. I was unloading the wood off the sled, when he asked, "What is the name of your lead dog?" I wasn't sure what to say, when he asked again, "What is the name of your lead dog?" I said, "its got a name, its Madzi?a," and ever since then, whenever he saw me, he would say, Madzi?a, Madzi?a t'aa. I've been called Madzi?a t'aa (Madzi?a' father), ever since, and that's my story.
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