Lands of Ice and Mice: An Alternate History of the Thule
- Thread starter DirtyCommie
- Start date
- Status
I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sorry that nobody could really keep the group going after I left. But a lot of the old art is still up on Deviantart. Anyway I'm much more excited about my current projects <rubs hands together>
Anyway, is there any way to encourage bog iron to form? Or do you just have find some that's already there? If you could, for example, dump rust and mine tailings into a swamp and come back next year and pull out a chunk of iron, that would mesh very well with the role of the Thule shamans.
Another idea about shamans that occurred to me. If what is going on with Grandfather among the Greenland Norse is a normal practice, then I can see shamans (or one school of shamans) evolving into a diplomatic corps. At some point, trade networks will become robust enough (and non-Thule people productive enough) that neighboring peoples will be more useful as trading partners than imperial conquests. I can see people like Grandfather as missionary/diplomats/market researchers, smoothing the way for subsequent trade. This tradition, if it becomes established across the Thule frontiers, will be very useful in <ahem> Asia.
Your ideas about diplomacy are interesting, but I guess that they would work only among peoples that have already picked some key features of Thule culture(s), as in being reasonbly settled.
This means that, as far as America goes, mostly the ones in the NW Pacific shores , the Rockies and the Atabaskans groups between the mountains and the Yukon who according to the canon TL, appear to have adopted Thule agriculture and probably many other Thule things. Unless these Atabaskans are fully integrated into Thule sphere, meaning that they are fully included in the Shaman network on equal footing (equal when it comes to judge individual Shamans I guess, not yet as a group).
The Atabaskan situation would be in some aspects close to the one of the Tlingit, except that the Tlingit and their neighbor, with the possible exception of the Haida, are likely to be even more integrated into Thule culture.
In Asia, actually, there is the main area where I see a truly developed diplomatic corps as useful. I see many native Siberians as mixing with the Thule, giving birth to distinct subcultures, and takins some Thule practices useful to their own lifelstyle. In such a context, diplomacy might be signifcant at least on the (quite large) border areas and immediately beyond. I would not rule out Thule Shamans in Beijing by late XVI c., though I think they'd hardly have any impact at all.
As noted earlier by someone else. Bog Iron forms naturally in anaerobic (oxygen deprived) acidic bog environments in decaying vegetation as a result of bacterial action. The iron seems to accrete as nodules, building up slowly. You dig up the bob, burn or filter the vegetable matter.
I don't think that the Arctic will be big for bog Iron. But where you will see Bog Iron working take place is in the Labrador and around Hudson Bay. By the time Frobisher shows up, local bog Iron works will be competitive with Greenland Iron.
Another idea about shamans that occurred to me. If what is going on with Grandfather among the Greenland Norse is a normal practice, then I can see shamans (or one school of shamans) evolving into a diplomatic corps. At some point, trade networks will become robust enough (and non-Thule people productive enough) that neighboring peoples will be more useful as trading partners than imperial conquests. I can see people like Grandfather as missionary/diplomats/market researchers, smoothing the way for subsequent trade. This tradition, if it becomes established across the Thule frontiers, will be very useful in <ahem> Asia.
It's a yes and no proposition. What Grandfather did is not normal practice, if only because the Thule have never come across another civilization.
There hasn't been a lot of common ground with cultures like the Dene, Cree etc. They're hunter-gatherers and as such are rather thinly populated competitors. It's mostly conflict on the borders, although as the wave of population movement subsides, you might see some tobacco trade.
So in this sense, what Grandfather did in initiating contact with outsiders is pretty unusual.
In another sense, its not unusual at all. Shaman's quite often stand outside the normative social groupings. They would deal with and between families, clans, communities and even tribes. Reputation helps, but a certain amount of diplomatic finesse and negotiation skills are required to go from community to community not get filled with arrows. Because of this, Shaman's often assumed roles of arbiters and negotiators between populations and groups.
Grandfather's contact with the Norse was actually a very stripped down adapted version of a traditional Thule greeting or meeting ceremony where two groups would make contact on a neutral ground arbitered by a Shaman. That's why Grandson refers to it as such - A greeting ceremony for people who aren't actually people. And why Grandfather refers to it as feeding dogs, a rather cynical but insightful take.
Will Grandfather's diplomatic achievements carry over to Asia or the Alaskan coast? Nope. Those particular achievements mostly die with him. If his example has any relevance to pacific or siberian Thule, its that he did it, not how he did it.
On the other hand, Thule culture and shamans are adaptable enough that its pretty inevitable that some Shaman is going to get the same logical idea of taking a greating ceremony stripping it down and modifying it, and using it as the basis to open trade and communication.
I wonder what the speed of southern expansion os for the Thule? Granted, their overall agricultural package is less and less suited the further South you go. But the Shamans are inventive enough to expand that package in the fringe regions.
In particular, my guess is that mineral deposits would spark expansion. One would begin with mining in warmer regions and bringing supplies down there, but sooner or later some shaman would come up with a new crop that works well there and can be exported North, launching a wave of expansion which would bring even more Shamans into the South.
In particular, my guess is that mineral deposits would spark expansion. One would begin with mining in warmer regions and bringing supplies down there, but sooner or later some shaman would come up with a new crop that works well there and can be exported North, launching a wave of expansion which would bring even more Shamans into the South.
Somewhat. Pretty radical things happened in the Tlingit/Haida area. But mostly the Thule expansion took place as a result of a sudden climactic shift which basically contracted productivity and forced a population movement. That's more or less stabilized, the Agricultural package is at its southern limits, there's a state of more or less perpetual low intensity warfare with the southern hunter-gathering peoples, such that Thule settlers are killed on site.
Over time this is going to stabilize and there will be some trading relations. But not a whole lot of expansion.
Generally, Thule expansion follows paths of least resistance, as with everyone. Their greatest competitive advantages lay in the arctic and subarctic, so that's where they push. Alaska is experiencing a belated demographic boom because it acquired agriculture relatively late - the surplus has been going south along the BC coast, or west into Siberia.
I think you're thinking of the Thule in more modern terms than they actually are. This is essentially a neolithic society just breaking into the early bronze/iron age. They're doing extremely well, and they'll continue to do extremely well. But they're not moderns.
There are clear signs of very far-reaching trade networks based upon bronze working and minerals in general very early on in the old world. You already stated that such networks exist within the Thule. Now my assumption is that if they expand southward, a site with copper deposits or maybe soon iron will be one of great value and thus a main spot of expansion and settlement - even if the normal agricultural package does not allow to grow sufficient food on place.
Now if they are in constant low-term warfare with the southern tribes, that will limit the expansion - nevertheless, you'll find far more Thule willing to defend a nice place of bog iron or copper deposits in the South. As a consequence, I would assume that mineral deposits attract settlement more and become the cores of expansion. And that should continue even into territories where their agricultural package doesn't fit anymore. Those settlements will still be rich due to the minerals, people and Shamans there will nevertheless try to make up the disadvantages, thereby developping the agricultural package of the Thule further so that they can expand more into the South.
However, it seems that this extent of expansion is still quite some time away and not a material driver yet, they'd need to be much deeper into the bronze or iron age to go for minerals in Southern territory - at least in the Americas, Siberia might offer more continuous contact with higher developped peoples offering the chance of large trade networks.
True. And in the new world, there were trade networks through the Indian populations based on Tobacco, Copper artifacts, coastal seashells, and flints. But the Thule sphere will have real difficulties in accessing those networks, at least initially.
At this point though, they already have more than sufficient copper, tin and even iron in their own sphere. These are all valuable materials. But the total amount of demand is not high. Remember, this is a post neolithic society, so even by say 1550 the total amounts of metal in circulation are relatively small, particularly compared to the late European bronze age and the Eurasian Iron age.
So between relatively small amounts of metal in use/required and good local sources, you're not going to see minerals driving southward exploration or expansion.
Now, give it another three hundred to five hundred years, and things will probably change. Demand and usage is progressive, the volume of metal in use is going to be manyfold greater and there'll be significant motive to locate outside sources and trade with outsiders or to establish remote colonies. It would make more sense, for instance for the Labrador or Hudson Bay Thule to access Great Lakes copper than to trade for Alaskan or McKenzie copper.
But we aren't going to have that much time. Columbus is showing up in 1492. The 1500's are going to be a time of increasing European contact with the new world, up to Frobisher's journeys in the 1580's to seek a northwest passage. By the 1600's, its going to be a new ball game for everyone.
Historical bronze-age trade networks with a long North-South axis...
Well there were Roman tin mines in the British isles, weren't there, although I don't know if the Romans had trouble with their agricultural package in Britannia. Also it's a sea trade route, rather than overland.
There were mines and quarries in the southern Egyptian empire, weren't there? Certainly they traded with the Nubians and Kushites, but those guys also had centralized agricultural societies, and they were connected to Egypt by a handy river.
The Shang Dynasty might be comparable to the Thulein terms of technology, but they were one of many states of similar advancement. There would have been Steppe nomads to the north, but I can't find anything about whether the Shang traded with them.
WHEN WORLDS MET, A RECONSTRUCTED SURVEY OF THE NORSE INTERCHANGE
The window of contact between the Norse and Thule spheres took place in Southern Greenland in one of the furthest reaches of the Norse.
The Norse had expanded with the Medieval Warm period, founding settlements in Greenland and reaching as far as the Labrador coast. But as the little ice age took place, the Norse sphere contracted. The population of Iceland fell from 60,000 to 20,000.
The Greenland settlements fell on hard times. The Greenland Norse had prospered with walrus ivory, polar bear furs and other luxury commodities. But the ivory market had vanished, replaced by cheaper african ivory. The luxuries which constituted Greenland’s exports had fallen out of favour.
The economics worsened. Sea ice during the little ice age blocked the traditional route from Greenland to Iceland. Journeys back and forth became farther, took longer and became more difficult. This made Greenland’s imports extremely expensive, often beyond the ability of the colony to purchase. The increased travel costs also made Greenland’s exports to expensive to sell. The foundations of trade were falling apart.
The unification of Norway and Sweden was a final blow. By edict, all trade had to pass through Norway. Direct contact between Greenland and Iceland was now forbidden. This meant the effective end of trade, and contact ended for more than a century.
Nor were domestic matters any better. The colony was barely self sustaining. During the medieval warm period, Greenland had sported stands of birch between twelve and eighteen feet tall. These small forests vanished in the little ice age. Barley could be grown... And then no longer. The Greenland environment provided forage for cattle, horses, pigs and sheep. Forage was in steep decline. Essentially, the fundamentals underpinning the Norse lifestyle were vanishing, victims of the changing climate.
Lack of wood was one of the worst problems. Without wood for fuel, for shipbuilding, for construction, the colonies were hamstrung. Lack of raw materials for boats and ships meant inevitable loss of trade, but more than that, it meant inevitable loss of opportunities for local and regional hunting and fishing. As boats wore out, there were fewer to travel to the seal or walrus hunting regions, and less protein returning home. Lack of fuel meant changes in lifestyle, animals were brought into homes, rooms became smaller, to preserve and magnify body heat.
As barley vanished from diets, these diets shifted to hardier root crops, to sea mammals, and fish. The Norse became increasingly dependent on the local resources of their cattle and sheep, even as these resources declined. Winter famines became common. Birth rates declined and child mortality climbed.
The Greenland Norse were literally on their way out by the time the Thule showed up. The Western and Middle settlements had failed or been abandoned. Another generation or two, they would have vanished altogether, and there would have been nothing to find.
As it was, what the Thule found was a colony in desperate straits, in steep decline, and cut off from its hosts. The period of interaction between the two cultures was almost surgically narrow. A span of less than fifty years, possibly much less, in a single narrow point of interface in the south of Greenland.
And then the Norse were gone. Absorbed, wiped out, died off.
The influence of the Norse lived on after they had passed. At one point, it was believed that many of the Thule accomplishments, even the fundamentals of Agriculture had been acquired from the Norse. This belief is now shown to be erroneous. But the question remains, what was the Norse contribution?
In the next passages, we will explore the key elements....
The window of contact between the Norse and Thule spheres took place in Southern Greenland in one of the furthest reaches of the Norse.
The Norse had expanded with the Medieval Warm period, founding settlements in Greenland and reaching as far as the Labrador coast. But as the little ice age took place, the Norse sphere contracted. The population of Iceland fell from 60,000 to 20,000.
The Greenland settlements fell on hard times. The Greenland Norse had prospered with walrus ivory, polar bear furs and other luxury commodities. But the ivory market had vanished, replaced by cheaper african ivory. The luxuries which constituted Greenland’s exports had fallen out of favour.
The economics worsened. Sea ice during the little ice age blocked the traditional route from Greenland to Iceland. Journeys back and forth became farther, took longer and became more difficult. This made Greenland’s imports extremely expensive, often beyond the ability of the colony to purchase. The increased travel costs also made Greenland’s exports to expensive to sell. The foundations of trade were falling apart.
The unification of Norway and Sweden was a final blow. By edict, all trade had to pass through Norway. Direct contact between Greenland and Iceland was now forbidden. This meant the effective end of trade, and contact ended for more than a century.
Nor were domestic matters any better. The colony was barely self sustaining. During the medieval warm period, Greenland had sported stands of birch between twelve and eighteen feet tall. These small forests vanished in the little ice age. Barley could be grown... And then no longer. The Greenland environment provided forage for cattle, horses, pigs and sheep. Forage was in steep decline. Essentially, the fundamentals underpinning the Norse lifestyle were vanishing, victims of the changing climate.
Lack of wood was one of the worst problems. Without wood for fuel, for shipbuilding, for construction, the colonies were hamstrung. Lack of raw materials for boats and ships meant inevitable loss of trade, but more than that, it meant inevitable loss of opportunities for local and regional hunting and fishing. As boats wore out, there were fewer to travel to the seal or walrus hunting regions, and less protein returning home. Lack of fuel meant changes in lifestyle, animals were brought into homes, rooms became smaller, to preserve and magnify body heat.
As barley vanished from diets, these diets shifted to hardier root crops, to sea mammals, and fish. The Norse became increasingly dependent on the local resources of their cattle and sheep, even as these resources declined. Winter famines became common. Birth rates declined and child mortality climbed.
The Greenland Norse were literally on their way out by the time the Thule showed up. The Western and Middle settlements had failed or been abandoned. Another generation or two, they would have vanished altogether, and there would have been nothing to find.
As it was, what the Thule found was a colony in desperate straits, in steep decline, and cut off from its hosts. The period of interaction between the two cultures was almost surgically narrow. A span of less than fifty years, possibly much less, in a single narrow point of interface in the south of Greenland.
And then the Norse were gone. Absorbed, wiped out, died off.
The influence of the Norse lived on after they had passed. At one point, it was believed that many of the Thule accomplishments, even the fundamentals of Agriculture had been acquired from the Norse. This belief is now shown to be erroneous. But the question remains, what was the Norse contribution?
In the next passages, we will explore the key elements....
Agriculture:
At one time, it was believed that the Thule had acquired agriculture from the Norse. This was based on the reality that the Norse agricultural settlement in Greenland was contemporaneous with the Thule expansion from Alaska. The Thule Agricultural revolution took place when Thule culture was literally adjacent to an existing Agricultural complex. So the belief was that the Thule either acquired Agriculture directly from the Norse, or that they acquired the idea of Agriculture from contact with the Norse.
This Eurocentric view has long been abandoned. The evolution and origins of the packagage of Thule crops and agricultural techniques are well documented, and it is now clear that this was an indigenous development which took place far away from the Norse colonies in Greenland. Indeed, because of geographic and environmental factors, there was no backflow of information from Greenland into Thule heartlands until well after the Agricultural revolution was under way.
Norse contributions to Thule agriculture are now considered to be fairly minimal. By the time of contact, most of the fundamentals of Thule Agriculture had been well established. The Thule had developed microclimate engineering, mound building, systems of trenching for irrigation and drainage and perrenial agriculture to an extremely high degree.
Norse Agriculture by this time was failing rapidly. Barley no longer grew in Greenland, hayfields were of declining productivity. The Norse were not poor farmers, they were adept at working in marginal areas with little soil, their techniques preserved or even built soil. But the Thule simply worked better in their own environment. There’s no evidence of any agricultural technology or technique being borrowed.
The principal transfer seems to have been carrots, turnips, onions and leeks. These crops were similar enough to existing Thule root crops (even in the case of carrots to taste) to be readily understood and adopted, and responded well to Thule agricultural techniques.
Unlike Sweetvetch or Claytonia, they were rapid growing, single season annual crops. They stored easily, and could be preserved or transported readily, allowing them to be traded and spread. This was particularly critical, since these plants had to pass through the Ellesmere bottleneck - had to be transported through extremely inhospitable territory to reach lands where they would be grown.
These annual root crops grew relatively poorly or not at all in large parts of the Thule range. Athough popular in some areas, they had greater soil and water requirements than many of the Thule crops - most of which were adapted for slower growth in dry or water poor conditions and poor soils. This meant that in some areas they could be grown, with a lot of intervention - fertilizers, preferential soils, careful watering. So they tended to be a specialty or luxury item, a food accessory rather than a staple.
In mainland and southern reaches of the Thule sphere, water and soil conditions could allow them to be grown in profusion, enhancing their association with relative wealth. Their relatively rapid growth (by Thule standards) also facilitated their desirability as a ‘status’ food.
The desirability of these crops as a marker of status or individual or regional wealth, as well as their ‘single season’ growth rate, resulted in intensive selective breeding for poor-soil and cold tolerant varieties, that spread these crops further north. The Thule varieties of carrots, onions and turnips tended to be smaller and slower growing than the European crops, but they moved steadily north.
Archeological dating has very accurately tracked the spread of these crops. They were found on Baffin Island by 1440, and grew there with aggressive support. They grew somewhat better on the mainlands and further south. They were relatively common in Thule regions of Labrador and around Hudson bay by about 1480. Had reached the McKenzie valley by 1500. Alaska by 1530.
There was a phenomenon where they would appear as relative rarities in the northern reaches, become common in the south, and then steadily increase in density and volume as northern-tolerant varieties are bred.
By the time of European contact in the 16th and 17th centuries, these crops were found all over the mainlands, as far north as Baffin island, and tended to be particularly prominent in well watered areas.
Overall, they became a relatively minor, though still significant part of the Thule agricultural package.
At one time, it was believed that the Thule had acquired agriculture from the Norse. This was based on the reality that the Norse agricultural settlement in Greenland was contemporaneous with the Thule expansion from Alaska. The Thule Agricultural revolution took place when Thule culture was literally adjacent to an existing Agricultural complex. So the belief was that the Thule either acquired Agriculture directly from the Norse, or that they acquired the idea of Agriculture from contact with the Norse.
This Eurocentric view has long been abandoned. The evolution and origins of the packagage of Thule crops and agricultural techniques are well documented, and it is now clear that this was an indigenous development which took place far away from the Norse colonies in Greenland. Indeed, because of geographic and environmental factors, there was no backflow of information from Greenland into Thule heartlands until well after the Agricultural revolution was under way.
Norse contributions to Thule agriculture are now considered to be fairly minimal. By the time of contact, most of the fundamentals of Thule Agriculture had been well established. The Thule had developed microclimate engineering, mound building, systems of trenching for irrigation and drainage and perrenial agriculture to an extremely high degree.
Norse Agriculture by this time was failing rapidly. Barley no longer grew in Greenland, hayfields were of declining productivity. The Norse were not poor farmers, they were adept at working in marginal areas with little soil, their techniques preserved or even built soil. But the Thule simply worked better in their own environment. There’s no evidence of any agricultural technology or technique being borrowed.
The principal transfer seems to have been carrots, turnips, onions and leeks. These crops were similar enough to existing Thule root crops (even in the case of carrots to taste) to be readily understood and adopted, and responded well to Thule agricultural techniques.
Unlike Sweetvetch or Claytonia, they were rapid growing, single season annual crops. They stored easily, and could be preserved or transported readily, allowing them to be traded and spread. This was particularly critical, since these plants had to pass through the Ellesmere bottleneck - had to be transported through extremely inhospitable territory to reach lands where they would be grown.
These annual root crops grew relatively poorly or not at all in large parts of the Thule range. Athough popular in some areas, they had greater soil and water requirements than many of the Thule crops - most of which were adapted for slower growth in dry or water poor conditions and poor soils. This meant that in some areas they could be grown, with a lot of intervention - fertilizers, preferential soils, careful watering. So they tended to be a specialty or luxury item, a food accessory rather than a staple.
In mainland and southern reaches of the Thule sphere, water and soil conditions could allow them to be grown in profusion, enhancing their association with relative wealth. Their relatively rapid growth (by Thule standards) also facilitated their desirability as a ‘status’ food.
The desirability of these crops as a marker of status or individual or regional wealth, as well as their ‘single season’ growth rate, resulted in intensive selective breeding for poor-soil and cold tolerant varieties, that spread these crops further north. The Thule varieties of carrots, onions and turnips tended to be smaller and slower growing than the European crops, but they moved steadily north.
Archeological dating has very accurately tracked the spread of these crops. They were found on Baffin Island by 1440, and grew there with aggressive support. They grew somewhat better on the mainlands and further south. They were relatively common in Thule regions of Labrador and around Hudson bay by about 1480. Had reached the McKenzie valley by 1500. Alaska by 1530.
There was a phenomenon where they would appear as relative rarities in the northern reaches, become common in the south, and then steadily increase in density and volume as northern-tolerant varieties are bred.
By the time of European contact in the 16th and 17th centuries, these crops were found all over the mainlands, as far north as Baffin island, and tended to be particularly prominent in well watered areas.
Overall, they became a relatively minor, though still significant part of the Thule agricultural package.
"Hey man, you know I jonesin for a little Thule."
"I know it, man."
"You got some Thule for me."
"Naw, man, Thule all out till next week."
"Ah come on, man, you gotta have some Thule for me."
"Well, I got some stuff about carrots growing in Southern Canada."
"Aw, shit man, I don't care about no f-ing carrots. What happened with those shamans? What about writing? What about contact with central Asian horse-nomads?"
"Hey, what I got is carrots. You want Thule carrots, or do you want to shut up and wait until next week?"
"Man, this is some sh-t! I ain't---"
<cocking pistol>
"I said, you want some Thule carrots?"
"...yeah."
"I know it, man."
"You got some Thule for me."
"Naw, man, Thule all out till next week."
"Ah come on, man, you gotta have some Thule for me."
"Well, I got some stuff about carrots growing in Southern Canada."
"Aw, shit man, I don't care about no f-ing carrots. What happened with those shamans? What about writing? What about contact with central Asian horse-nomads?"
"Hey, what I got is carrots. You want Thule carrots, or do you want to shut up and wait until next week?"
"Man, this is some sh-t! I ain't---"
<cocking pistol>
"I said, you want some Thule carrots?"
"...yeah."
Animals and Animal Husbandry:
Among the Norse, the Thule encountered a number of domesticated animals - chickens, geese, dogs, sheep, goats, pigs, cattle and horses. Of these, the only ones to be adopted widely were sheep and perhaps geese.
A couple of factors worked against the wholesale adoption of Norse domesticates. First and foremost, the Greenland Norse’s actual population of domesticates was not terribly healthy. We can assume that the Norse brought over most of their domestic suite. But Greenland was on the end of a very long chain that stretched from Norway, to the Hebrides, to Iceland and finally to Greenland. The numbers of animals that were brought over were necessarily small, and the choices of what to bring over tended to circumscribe those populations further.
Greenland domesticate populations tended to be relatively small, except in key areas, substantially inbred, and relatively impoverished. They were living off the land, when the land was marginal at best and declining in utility. At least one domesticate, the pig, seems to have vanished even before the Thule showed up. Others, such as goats, seemed to be in severe decline.
Another factor is that for the Thule, many of the Norse domesticates appeared to be inferior analogues of domesticates that they already had on hand. Thule folklore appears to have regarded Norse dogs with contempt, for example, depicting them as flighty and erratic animals with little constancy and lacking stamina. Cattle and goats were seen as particularly inferior forms of caribou and musk ox, perhaps resulting in the failure to adopt them.
While in some ways, cattle and goats may have been superior, they were not superior in ways that the Thule appreciated. They may have been more tractable, gave better milk and meat, better hides, but they were much more vulnerable to the climate, required far more intervention to maintain. And of course, there was a learning curve associated with adopting these animals, a time and expense that on the whole, the Thule were reluctant to engage, because they already had satisfactory animals that they already knew how to manage correctly.
Horses figure in some folk tales and are described as marvellous animals - but were again poorly suited to climate. By all evidence, the horse population in the eastern settlement was very small and the animals were clearly in decline. Although horses did not make it into Thule culture they had significant effects.
The clearest impact of horses on Thule culture was the adoption of a modified horse collar for caribou. The Horse collar was one of the great unsung revolutionary inventions of the medieval period. Prior to that, the amount of labour a horse could do was constrained by their harness, which was around the animal’s neck and ended up choking them. The horse collar, which redistributed pressure to the shoulders, effectively doubled the amount of weight that a horse could pull. It was a horsepower revolution which saw the amount of raw power available within medieval societies increase dramatically overnight.
Thule Caribou had had a similar problem. Modifying the horse collar for a Caribou produced a similar power revolution that swept rapidly through Thule society reaching all the way to Siberia within two generations.
The other impact is somewhat less clear cut: Riding. It’s generally acknowledged that knowledge of horses might have introduced Caribou riding to the Thule. The case for Horse Collars is essentially open and shut. The case for riding is less clear cut. For one thing, there is some evidence of occasional local Caribou riding almost as far back as widespread domestication. For another, almost contemporaneous with or prior to the Norse interchange, the Thule in Siberia were encountering cultures like the Chuchki or Yakut who themselves rode Reindeer to some extent.
Archeological evidence is inconclusive. Early riding appears in a number of places in the Thule sphere. There is a variety of saddles and bridles used, some of which resemble or are reminiscent of Norse styles. The best that can be said is that riding only begins to become relatively common, and the heavy oversized breed of caribou that were ridden only begins to emerge after the Norse interchange.
One theory holds that riding was an indirect acquisition. That rather than the skill and techniques directly transferring, the idea of riding was spread through writings and written descriptions, writing having been acquired from the Norse. In this sense, the Norse contributed riding indirectly as part of the cultural freight of writing, which would explain the near simultaneous emergence of riding in several places, as well as the diversity of saddles, bridles and styles that emerged. The Thule may themselves have occasionally ridden, and clearly encountered Asian riding cultures, but these remained local developments which tended not to spread, or at least had difficulty spreading.
Chicken persisted in Greenland up to the 1500's, before being replaced by Ptarmigan. This may not have been so much a deliberate decision, as a factor of the slow decline and extinction of chickens for other reasons. Domestic geese also persisted in Greenland and spread to a few coastal areas on Baffin Island and Labrador, but were never adopted on the mainland. The spread of domestic geese overlapps somewhat with the adoption of Sheep.
The big domesticate adopted by the Thule, of course, were sheep.
Among the Norse, the Thule encountered a number of domesticated animals - chickens, geese, dogs, sheep, goats, pigs, cattle and horses. Of these, the only ones to be adopted widely were sheep and perhaps geese.
A couple of factors worked against the wholesale adoption of Norse domesticates. First and foremost, the Greenland Norse’s actual population of domesticates was not terribly healthy. We can assume that the Norse brought over most of their domestic suite. But Greenland was on the end of a very long chain that stretched from Norway, to the Hebrides, to Iceland and finally to Greenland. The numbers of animals that were brought over were necessarily small, and the choices of what to bring over tended to circumscribe those populations further.
Greenland domesticate populations tended to be relatively small, except in key areas, substantially inbred, and relatively impoverished. They were living off the land, when the land was marginal at best and declining in utility. At least one domesticate, the pig, seems to have vanished even before the Thule showed up. Others, such as goats, seemed to be in severe decline.
Another factor is that for the Thule, many of the Norse domesticates appeared to be inferior analogues of domesticates that they already had on hand. Thule folklore appears to have regarded Norse dogs with contempt, for example, depicting them as flighty and erratic animals with little constancy and lacking stamina. Cattle and goats were seen as particularly inferior forms of caribou and musk ox, perhaps resulting in the failure to adopt them.
While in some ways, cattle and goats may have been superior, they were not superior in ways that the Thule appreciated. They may have been more tractable, gave better milk and meat, better hides, but they were much more vulnerable to the climate, required far more intervention to maintain. And of course, there was a learning curve associated with adopting these animals, a time and expense that on the whole, the Thule were reluctant to engage, because they already had satisfactory animals that they already knew how to manage correctly.
Horses figure in some folk tales and are described as marvellous animals - but were again poorly suited to climate. By all evidence, the horse population in the eastern settlement was very small and the animals were clearly in decline. Although horses did not make it into Thule culture they had significant effects.
The clearest impact of horses on Thule culture was the adoption of a modified horse collar for caribou. The Horse collar was one of the great unsung revolutionary inventions of the medieval period. Prior to that, the amount of labour a horse could do was constrained by their harness, which was around the animal’s neck and ended up choking them. The horse collar, which redistributed pressure to the shoulders, effectively doubled the amount of weight that a horse could pull. It was a horsepower revolution which saw the amount of raw power available within medieval societies increase dramatically overnight.
Thule Caribou had had a similar problem. Modifying the horse collar for a Caribou produced a similar power revolution that swept rapidly through Thule society reaching all the way to Siberia within two generations.
The other impact is somewhat less clear cut: Riding. It’s generally acknowledged that knowledge of horses might have introduced Caribou riding to the Thule. The case for Horse Collars is essentially open and shut. The case for riding is less clear cut. For one thing, there is some evidence of occasional local Caribou riding almost as far back as widespread domestication. For another, almost contemporaneous with or prior to the Norse interchange, the Thule in Siberia were encountering cultures like the Chuchki or Yakut who themselves rode Reindeer to some extent.
Archeological evidence is inconclusive. Early riding appears in a number of places in the Thule sphere. There is a variety of saddles and bridles used, some of which resemble or are reminiscent of Norse styles. The best that can be said is that riding only begins to become relatively common, and the heavy oversized breed of caribou that were ridden only begins to emerge after the Norse interchange.
One theory holds that riding was an indirect acquisition. That rather than the skill and techniques directly transferring, the idea of riding was spread through writings and written descriptions, writing having been acquired from the Norse. In this sense, the Norse contributed riding indirectly as part of the cultural freight of writing, which would explain the near simultaneous emergence of riding in several places, as well as the diversity of saddles, bridles and styles that emerged. The Thule may themselves have occasionally ridden, and clearly encountered Asian riding cultures, but these remained local developments which tended not to spread, or at least had difficulty spreading.
Chicken persisted in Greenland up to the 1500's, before being replaced by Ptarmigan. This may not have been so much a deliberate decision, as a factor of the slow decline and extinction of chickens for other reasons. Domestic geese also persisted in Greenland and spread to a few coastal areas on Baffin Island and Labrador, but were never adopted on the mainland. The spread of domestic geese overlapps somewhat with the adoption of Sheep.
The big domesticate adopted by the Thule, of course, were sheep.
Last edited:
Sheep Among the Thule
What became the Thule sheep was derived from Greenland, which itself was a sub-population of the emerging breed of Icelandic sheep, which in turn was derived from the Norwegian Spelsau variety, an archaic form of the class of North European sheep breeds.
Domesticated sheep run from 45 to 100 kilograms, roughly 100 to 250 pounds. Their fleece is white, but will also come in a range of colours from browns, to greys to blacks. They are generally horned.
Males and Females will become reproductively capable as early as five to seven months, although full maturity takes about a year. The preference is to wait until the second winter before breeding, after which they can breed steadily. Some of the Thule sheep will breed two or three times a year, particularly when breeding is for meat or milk, but usually breeding is annual.
A notable feature of Thule sheep, inherited from Icelandic sheep, is a tendency to multiple births, with twins being common, and triplets, quadruplets and even quintuplets being born.
Of all the Norse domesticates, these seemed most tolerant to the rigors of the Little Ice Age, able to successfully endure harsh temperatures. The super-dense wool of northern european sheep breeds provides effective insulation. The lowest temperature at which a sheep’s body will function normally is about 40 below zero in calm air. They can endure even lower temperatures by huddling together for warmth, or burning through fat reserves, or seeking shelter. So, with some reasonable degree of accommodation - sheds and fodder, sheep could survive in many Thule territories.
The key Thule domesticates, Musk Ox and Caribou, were outdoor animals. So the notion that you would have to keep sheep in buildings from time to time was a strange one. But the Agricultural Thule were by this time living in settled communities, so once the idea as well as the animal was acquired from the Norse it was adopted readily. In some communities, Sheep became an occasional household animal, but as numbers proliferated, sheep lodges were established.
As a collateral effect, sheep tended to be less effective winter feeders than Musk Ox or Caribou, and often required hay or forage to be provided to them. This involved a certain investment of time and effort.
There was a major downside. Sheep carry a virus lethal to Caribou and Musk Ox. Malignant Caterlal Fever (MCF) . This virus affects most domestic sheep and goats without disease. If has been found to be fatal in cervidae species with the exception of fallow deer. It is a virus acquired through nasal and ocular secretions and through the feces. Susceptible ruminants are “end hosts” - ie, it kills so fast and ruthlessly that transmission to other animals in the herd is rare. Clinical finds are reported to be sudden death in acute cases, but more often death is preceded by high fever, depression, enlarged lymph nodes, serious eye and nose discharges, problems with coordination and diarrhea. Deer will often have blood in the feces from prominent intestinal hemorrhage. Death usually occurs in 3 – 7 days. Even today, there is no preventative vaccine. Essentially, it’s sheep ebola. The only effective way to avoid infection was to keep sheep separated from caribou or musk ox, or to simply keep sheep out of caribou or musk ox territory.
The tendency of their animals to die horribly on contact with sheep tended to discourage the spread of sheep through the Thule realm. At times, introduced sheep would simply be slaughtered by angry locals. As word spread of the virulence of the sheep disease, local resistance became fierce. It was only in the more marginal and impoverished areas of the Thule sphere that sheep’s wool was desirable enough to overcome resistance.
In sheep areas, Thule herders developed effective techniques to ensure that their Caribou were kept away from Sheep, and without direct contact there was little risk. Dogs became more prominent as pack and draft animals in these areas, due to their immunity and indifference to sheep disease.
One subtle outcome of MCT, however, was that it gave the Thule some degree of experience with managing virulently contagious diseases and asymptomatic carriers. This, along with the experiences Thule’s own trio of transmissible diseases, provided the Thule with a level of cultural insight into disease transmission, and somewhat effective methods for coping with transmissible diseases that were lacking in southern cultures.
These two factors, the need for special measures to support them and the virulence of MCT, actively worked to discourage the spread of sheep through the Thule sphere. But they did spread. Sheep dominated in the lower half of Greenland, on the Eastern coasts of Baffin, and throughout the northern Quebec/Labrador region, as well as being found occasionally on the west side of Hudson bay.
Despite the downsides, however, Sheep had value which encouraged their spread, particularly in the more remote and impoverished areas of the Thule sphere.
As a meat animal, Thule Sheep grew rapidly, and could be ready for harvest within six months, at a weight of 70 to 90 pounds. For meat, harvest could be any time between six months to a year, but depending on need and circumstance, could be slaughtered earlier or later. Generally the animals were preserved to give at least one harvest of wool.
Hides of slaughtered sheep produced a strikingly coloured, and soft leather, sheepskin. On average, a sheepskin runs from six to eight square feet, and was used for small objects such as gloves, hats, bags, etc., although it could be sewn together to form blankets, or sewn to heavier leathers from caribou or musk ox.
Thule Sheep were also milk producers. Sheep produce milk after giving birth for approximately eight to twelve weeks. The lambs can be weaned off after the second week, and thereafter the sheep can be milked daily. Milk production averages 1.5 to 2 litres a day with some animals producing as much as 3 litres. Sheep milk is high in fats and dissolved solids. Although both Musk Ox and Caribou produced milk, the quantities were small in comparison and harvest was difficult. It was with sheep and among the Sheep subculture that milk production and consumption became significant, and there was a rapid selection for lactose tolerance among these populations, similar to what was seen with Musk Ox subculture.
One relatively unique feature of Thule acquisition of sheep was in the effort to use them consistently as draft and pack animals. This was not unheard of, sheep were used as draft animals in the Himalayan region of central asia. However, the incompatibility of sheep with Caribou or Musk Ox meant that Thule sheep were underwent intensive selection from the beginning for their ability to carry backs or draw loads. This, together with milk production are the principal differences between modern Thule and Icelandic sheep.
One factor contributing to the extensive use of sheep as pack or draft animals, was the use of dogs - a similar sized animal. Sheep harnesses were essentially slightly modified dog harnesses. In a sense, the technology to use sheep effectively as pack animals was already sitting on the shelf. As pack and draft animals, however, sheep were inferior to dogs - they could pack loads between 15 to 23% of their body weight, compared to up to 40% for dogs, and they could not perform in all weather. The difficulties in maintaining adjacent populations of Musk Ox or Caribou, in sheep areas meant that the Thule both embraced higher populations of dogs for labour (and they proved to be effective herders - previously a minor role), and extensive use of large numbers of sheep as pack or draft animals.
The feature which made sheep a successful and valued Thule domesticate was obviously wool. Like Icelandic sheep, Thule sheep have two kinds of wool. The long outer coat of coarse or medium outer fibres, about 27 micrometers in diameter, called Tog, and a finer inner coat of hairs called thel about 20 micrometers in diameter. (In comparison, Musk Ox wool or qiviat is between 16 and 18 micrometers).
In the harsh environment of the Arctic, wool wasn’t necessarily the best item for clothing. Wool isn't very good in the Arctic, its not warm enough and gets soaked too easily. A lot of Europeans searching for the Northwest Passage in OTL died wearing wool for protection. There are stories of them having to literally chip themselves out of bed in the mornings because wool blankets and clothes had frozen solid overnight. Rather, wools became popular for accessory items - lightweight bags, hair braids, tassels, strings, undergarments, summer shirts, scarves and sashes, etc. This was sufficiently valued that wools and woolen items became a major trading item within the Thule sphere.
The Thule adoption of sheep also meant the adoption of weaving and textiles. In turn, this produced a minor revolution elsewhere in the Thule sphere. The Musk Ox subculture of the western archipelago had traditionally been among the most impoverished of the Thule. Effectively, in terms of precipitation, the Islands were deserts. The Islands as a whole were too cold and too dry for even the resilient Thule agriculture, only limited horticulture was achieved with the hardiest of the Thule species. Agricultural techniques were often confined to enhancing forage. The landscapes were too harsh even for Caribou. The result had been a subculture which subsisted on herding Musk Ox and supplementing their lifestyles with milk, horticulture and limited hunting and gathering.
But Musk Ox produced a far better quality of wool, known as qviat, than sheep. It was eight times warmer than sheeps wool, softer than cashmere, significantly stronger, did not shrink in water as sheeps wool did and could last up to twenty years. Prior to the introduction of sheep and textiles, Musk Ox qviat had only local value, mostly as packing and insulation. But the emergence of woolen articles as a valued trade item, and the importing of looms revolutionized the Musk Ox subculture. For the first time, they had something that someone somewhere else might want. Looms and qviat textiles spread rapidly through the western archipelago within a generation.
Musk Ox populations expanded significantly in the south and on the mainland and in alaska, despite the relative vulnerability of these animals to Caribou diseases and adverse conditions. Within two generations, qviat looms and qviat trade had spread to Thule in siberia, resulting in both local trade and exchange, and a trading network that moved siberian qviat from the Arctic siberian coast down across Alaska to the Tlingit and Haida.
In a sense, the intellectual or cultural transfer of knowledge of wool and the techniques and applications for handling it were as significant to Thule civilization as the physical sheep themselves.
Oddly, despite the similarities and common ground between Musk Ox and Sheep subcultures, the two did not overlap. Musk Ox were a non-migratory, sedentary animal that traditionally lived in small relatively isolated herds. As a result, their immune systems were not terribly robust. They were prone to catching and often dying from diseases contracted by Caribou who migrated across large distances in large dense herds. If Musk Ox weren't standing up well to Caribou, then Sheep were death to them. Thule culture learned to develop elaborate systems and techniques for maintaining Musk Ox around other animals, but large scale mingling was simply out of the question.
What became the Thule sheep was derived from Greenland, which itself was a sub-population of the emerging breed of Icelandic sheep, which in turn was derived from the Norwegian Spelsau variety, an archaic form of the class of North European sheep breeds.
Domesticated sheep run from 45 to 100 kilograms, roughly 100 to 250 pounds. Their fleece is white, but will also come in a range of colours from browns, to greys to blacks. They are generally horned.
Males and Females will become reproductively capable as early as five to seven months, although full maturity takes about a year. The preference is to wait until the second winter before breeding, after which they can breed steadily. Some of the Thule sheep will breed two or three times a year, particularly when breeding is for meat or milk, but usually breeding is annual.
A notable feature of Thule sheep, inherited from Icelandic sheep, is a tendency to multiple births, with twins being common, and triplets, quadruplets and even quintuplets being born.
Of all the Norse domesticates, these seemed most tolerant to the rigors of the Little Ice Age, able to successfully endure harsh temperatures. The super-dense wool of northern european sheep breeds provides effective insulation. The lowest temperature at which a sheep’s body will function normally is about 40 below zero in calm air. They can endure even lower temperatures by huddling together for warmth, or burning through fat reserves, or seeking shelter. So, with some reasonable degree of accommodation - sheds and fodder, sheep could survive in many Thule territories.
The key Thule domesticates, Musk Ox and Caribou, were outdoor animals. So the notion that you would have to keep sheep in buildings from time to time was a strange one. But the Agricultural Thule were by this time living in settled communities, so once the idea as well as the animal was acquired from the Norse it was adopted readily. In some communities, Sheep became an occasional household animal, but as numbers proliferated, sheep lodges were established.
As a collateral effect, sheep tended to be less effective winter feeders than Musk Ox or Caribou, and often required hay or forage to be provided to them. This involved a certain investment of time and effort.
There was a major downside. Sheep carry a virus lethal to Caribou and Musk Ox. Malignant Caterlal Fever (MCF) . This virus affects most domestic sheep and goats without disease. If has been found to be fatal in cervidae species with the exception of fallow deer. It is a virus acquired through nasal and ocular secretions and through the feces. Susceptible ruminants are “end hosts” - ie, it kills so fast and ruthlessly that transmission to other animals in the herd is rare. Clinical finds are reported to be sudden death in acute cases, but more often death is preceded by high fever, depression, enlarged lymph nodes, serious eye and nose discharges, problems with coordination and diarrhea. Deer will often have blood in the feces from prominent intestinal hemorrhage. Death usually occurs in 3 – 7 days. Even today, there is no preventative vaccine. Essentially, it’s sheep ebola. The only effective way to avoid infection was to keep sheep separated from caribou or musk ox, or to simply keep sheep out of caribou or musk ox territory.
The tendency of their animals to die horribly on contact with sheep tended to discourage the spread of sheep through the Thule realm. At times, introduced sheep would simply be slaughtered by angry locals. As word spread of the virulence of the sheep disease, local resistance became fierce. It was only in the more marginal and impoverished areas of the Thule sphere that sheep’s wool was desirable enough to overcome resistance.
In sheep areas, Thule herders developed effective techniques to ensure that their Caribou were kept away from Sheep, and without direct contact there was little risk. Dogs became more prominent as pack and draft animals in these areas, due to their immunity and indifference to sheep disease.
One subtle outcome of MCT, however, was that it gave the Thule some degree of experience with managing virulently contagious diseases and asymptomatic carriers. This, along with the experiences Thule’s own trio of transmissible diseases, provided the Thule with a level of cultural insight into disease transmission, and somewhat effective methods for coping with transmissible diseases that were lacking in southern cultures.
These two factors, the need for special measures to support them and the virulence of MCT, actively worked to discourage the spread of sheep through the Thule sphere. But they did spread. Sheep dominated in the lower half of Greenland, on the Eastern coasts of Baffin, and throughout the northern Quebec/Labrador region, as well as being found occasionally on the west side of Hudson bay.
Despite the downsides, however, Sheep had value which encouraged their spread, particularly in the more remote and impoverished areas of the Thule sphere.
As a meat animal, Thule Sheep grew rapidly, and could be ready for harvest within six months, at a weight of 70 to 90 pounds. For meat, harvest could be any time between six months to a year, but depending on need and circumstance, could be slaughtered earlier or later. Generally the animals were preserved to give at least one harvest of wool.
Hides of slaughtered sheep produced a strikingly coloured, and soft leather, sheepskin. On average, a sheepskin runs from six to eight square feet, and was used for small objects such as gloves, hats, bags, etc., although it could be sewn together to form blankets, or sewn to heavier leathers from caribou or musk ox.
Thule Sheep were also milk producers. Sheep produce milk after giving birth for approximately eight to twelve weeks. The lambs can be weaned off after the second week, and thereafter the sheep can be milked daily. Milk production averages 1.5 to 2 litres a day with some animals producing as much as 3 litres. Sheep milk is high in fats and dissolved solids. Although both Musk Ox and Caribou produced milk, the quantities were small in comparison and harvest was difficult. It was with sheep and among the Sheep subculture that milk production and consumption became significant, and there was a rapid selection for lactose tolerance among these populations, similar to what was seen with Musk Ox subculture.
One relatively unique feature of Thule acquisition of sheep was in the effort to use them consistently as draft and pack animals. This was not unheard of, sheep were used as draft animals in the Himalayan region of central asia. However, the incompatibility of sheep with Caribou or Musk Ox meant that Thule sheep were underwent intensive selection from the beginning for their ability to carry backs or draw loads. This, together with milk production are the principal differences between modern Thule and Icelandic sheep.
One factor contributing to the extensive use of sheep as pack or draft animals, was the use of dogs - a similar sized animal. Sheep harnesses were essentially slightly modified dog harnesses. In a sense, the technology to use sheep effectively as pack animals was already sitting on the shelf. As pack and draft animals, however, sheep were inferior to dogs - they could pack loads between 15 to 23% of their body weight, compared to up to 40% for dogs, and they could not perform in all weather. The difficulties in maintaining adjacent populations of Musk Ox or Caribou, in sheep areas meant that the Thule both embraced higher populations of dogs for labour (and they proved to be effective herders - previously a minor role), and extensive use of large numbers of sheep as pack or draft animals.
The feature which made sheep a successful and valued Thule domesticate was obviously wool. Like Icelandic sheep, Thule sheep have two kinds of wool. The long outer coat of coarse or medium outer fibres, about 27 micrometers in diameter, called Tog, and a finer inner coat of hairs called thel about 20 micrometers in diameter. (In comparison, Musk Ox wool or qiviat is between 16 and 18 micrometers).
In the harsh environment of the Arctic, wool wasn’t necessarily the best item for clothing. Wool isn't very good in the Arctic, its not warm enough and gets soaked too easily. A lot of Europeans searching for the Northwest Passage in OTL died wearing wool for protection. There are stories of them having to literally chip themselves out of bed in the mornings because wool blankets and clothes had frozen solid overnight. Rather, wools became popular for accessory items - lightweight bags, hair braids, tassels, strings, undergarments, summer shirts, scarves and sashes, etc. This was sufficiently valued that wools and woolen items became a major trading item within the Thule sphere.
The Thule adoption of sheep also meant the adoption of weaving and textiles. In turn, this produced a minor revolution elsewhere in the Thule sphere. The Musk Ox subculture of the western archipelago had traditionally been among the most impoverished of the Thule. Effectively, in terms of precipitation, the Islands were deserts. The Islands as a whole were too cold and too dry for even the resilient Thule agriculture, only limited horticulture was achieved with the hardiest of the Thule species. Agricultural techniques were often confined to enhancing forage. The landscapes were too harsh even for Caribou. The result had been a subculture which subsisted on herding Musk Ox and supplementing their lifestyles with milk, horticulture and limited hunting and gathering.
But Musk Ox produced a far better quality of wool, known as qviat, than sheep. It was eight times warmer than sheeps wool, softer than cashmere, significantly stronger, did not shrink in water as sheeps wool did and could last up to twenty years. Prior to the introduction of sheep and textiles, Musk Ox qviat had only local value, mostly as packing and insulation. But the emergence of woolen articles as a valued trade item, and the importing of looms revolutionized the Musk Ox subculture. For the first time, they had something that someone somewhere else might want. Looms and qviat textiles spread rapidly through the western archipelago within a generation.
Musk Ox populations expanded significantly in the south and on the mainland and in alaska, despite the relative vulnerability of these animals to Caribou diseases and adverse conditions. Within two generations, qviat looms and qviat trade had spread to Thule in siberia, resulting in both local trade and exchange, and a trading network that moved siberian qviat from the Arctic siberian coast down across Alaska to the Tlingit and Haida.
In a sense, the intellectual or cultural transfer of knowledge of wool and the techniques and applications for handling it were as significant to Thule civilization as the physical sheep themselves.
Oddly, despite the similarities and common ground between Musk Ox and Sheep subcultures, the two did not overlap. Musk Ox were a non-migratory, sedentary animal that traditionally lived in small relatively isolated herds. As a result, their immune systems were not terribly robust. They were prone to catching and often dying from diseases contracted by Caribou who migrated across large distances in large dense herds. If Musk Ox weren't standing up well to Caribou, then Sheep were death to them. Thule culture learned to develop elaborate systems and techniques for maintaining Musk Ox around other animals, but large scale mingling was simply out of the question.
Are you happy now?
Next up, posts on the Loom, Ironworking, Writing. And that should take care of the Norse interchange -
There might be a little follow up post, dealing with some tag ends - genetic transfer (insignificant), conferred disease resistance (nonexistent), christianity (failed), buckles, buttons, things like that.
Then there's overdue posts on Joan and Mona. I think I covered Bruce a while back, and maybe some follow through on Thule approach to medicine, illness and disease.
Another post or two on the 'Equestrian' tradition which begins to emerge, with Caribou cavalry.
Some stuff on the evolution of formal trading networks - Ellesmere of course, but also their emerging rivals. And the emergence of statelike entities. The formalisation of the Shamanic class.
Then we'll get to the wacky hijinks in Asia, and the really really warlike Thule over there.
At which point, it'll be time for Frobisher to show up looking for a Northwest Passage.
And of course, it'll be the time period when the runaway epidemics are decimating southern populations, and their effect on the Thule. I'll have to do some serious research on that.
On a preliminary basis, it strikes me that these diseases are going to hit the Thule, but they're not all going to hit at the same time, so the trajectories are going to be more complicated.
For their part, the Thule are not going to have an immunological advantage. But what they will have is a cultural advantage. They've had experience of their own infectious diseases, and of the infectious diseases between their big key domesticates. They'll have cultural tools to contain, manage and assist their members in surviving epidemics.
It won't save them, but what it probably means is that rather than burning through like a devastating forest fire, you're going to have a much more prolongued process of brush fires, smolderings, flare ups, etc.
I'll have to spend some time working out the accumulating cultural effects and evolution.
And then of course, the Europeans are going to be showing up in numbers, the Fur trade is going to be well underway, the Russians, Norwegians, Spanish, Portugese, British and French will be inviting themselves to the party. Wacky Hijinx ensue.
Deliriously.
Seriously, the sheep thing was cool. Especially the revolution started, not because of wool, but because of the introduction of tools for working with wool. (and what better trade item to give to the Russians? I bet THEY have some uses for Musk Ox wool).
The only nudge I might give is the lactose tolerance thing. I'm willing to be that Norse genes coupled with the availability of sheep's-milk and an insular population will give us endemic lactose tolerance in Greenland fairly quickly, with the genes petering out the farther west you go (outside of old musk ox communities, with their independent genes)
There's actually a whole series of techniques and tools, ranging from spinning thread onto spindles to turning the thread into textiles on looms.
Warp Weighted looms. The Maya actually used backstrap looms. Warp Weighted looms went back in Europe to the neolithic times six or seven thousand years ago. They were in use by the Norse, and particularly by the Icelanders, so its a lock that they were in Greenland.
Looms were household or village tools. We can reasonably assume that anyone who had sheep had one or access to one. The skills to use one would be common in a village, pretty much every woman could use one. And just about every competent man, or at least any reasonably skilled carpenter, would be able to build one or repair one.
I would judge it as one of the most widespread and deceptively accessible technologies available.
When Grandson drops in on Grandfather, Grandfather's wife is busily working a warp weight loom to make cloth.
So aquisition is pretty much a lock.
In comparison, Norse ironworking and blackmithing is a much more difficult skill to acquire. The knowledge and techniques are not widespread, but mainly in the hands of the smiths. There wouldn't be many of those, and they'd tend to guard their knowledge.
Greenland may have had as few as less than ten smiths by the time the Thule show up. They may well have been down to one...
Actually, lactose persistence or tolerance can be caused by either of two separate mutations and is a dominant trait. In modern times twenty per cent of modern Alaskan Inuit are lactose tolerant.
Now, there might be some modern interpolation of European genes into the Alaskan population. But I'd warrant that the Alaskan inuit are probably reasonably pure, and would represent a good sample of the original Thule gene pool that spread out across the north.
So I think its reasonable to assume a baseline of 15 to 20% lactose tolerants in any given Thule population. It seems to be a fairly widespread mutation, not harmful so it doesn't get weeded out of the population, and a real advantage when there comes to be an opportunity to incorporate milk into a diet.
So given a certain amount of the population already harbouring the mutation, it can become widespread within a population very quickly if conditions support it.
This happened with the Musk Ox herders who never came within a thousand miles of a Norse. Basically, their environment was very harsh. Their food package consisted of herding and slaughtering musk ox, some horticulture, some fishing, some hunting and gathering. Even relatively poor milk production could make a huge difference, especially for growing and adolescent children. Children who had lactose intolerance setting in missed out on a whole pile of calories, tended to grow slower, sicklier and weaker, or tended not to grow at all. Selection for Lactose tolerance would be rapid, to the point where it reaches 80 to 90% of the subgroup in three or four generations.
In Caribou areas, the Caribou are relatively poor milk producers and there's enough other food sources that missing out on Caribou milk doesn't really handicap anyone. So while you've got slightly more Lactose tolerance in the general Thule population, it would be minor. Say 20 to 25% of the population.
Among the Labrador and Greenland Thule, they've got a really good milk producer. ie, an animal that produces a good volume of milk - up to 3 liters a day, and you can have a lot more of them (smaller animals/larger numbers), in a comparatively richer environment.
Do the math - comparing environments, the Western Archipelago can support one musk ox to a given square footage. In Labrador, the same square footage would support three musk ox. An average musk ox weighs 900 lbs, average sheep weighs 150 lbs. So you get six sheep for every Musk Ox (not quite, but bear with me).
So basically, a given square footage in the Western Archipelago supports one musk ox which in season produces half a liter a day, and the same square footage in Labrador supports 18 sheep producing a maximum of 54 liters a day, or roughly a hundred fold difference.
What this means is that the Sheep subculture has so much milk available to them, that even with the availability of other food sources, lactose tolerance becomes a major advantage and gets selected pretty quickly. You get roughtly 65 to 80% tolerance in these areas.
That's without any infusion of Norse Genes at all.
I'm not saying that the Norse don't make any contribution to the Thule gene pool at all. But it's not actually a lot, and it's almost entirely confined to the southern part of Greenland.
Last edited:
There are 4 lactose tolerance mutations, a european one, two middle eastern ones, and an african one.
Basically the spread of indoeuropeans, semites and bantu can be labelled ' the attack of the milk drinking mutants'...
Great updates!
I have to say, while I understand for story reasons why you want horses to die out, they probably would be better domesticates for the Thule than sheep.
In The Horse, The Wheel, and Language, it was pointed out the original reason horses were domesticated in the steppes (as a meat animal, not for riding) was almost certainly because they were far more winter-adapted animals than near eastern animals like cattle, sheep, and goats.
When faced with snow, cattle will not eat if the snow is too deep to see forage through. Sheep will push snow aside with their noses, but they continue to do that even in deep cold, to the point their snouts become bloody and frostbitten, and they starve. In contrast, horses clear snow off the ground with their hooves, which not only means they don't do damage to themselves, but they clear enough forage for other animals (after some blizzards in the 1800s in the western U.S., only cattle which followed Mustang herds survived). In addition, horses use their hooves to crack through ice in order to access water to drink when they find it. Sheep and cattle can't figure this out.
Basically, horses can overwinter outdoors in far worse climates than sheep, cattle, or goats can. Of course, tundra is probably a bit too cold (and too cold for too long) in order for even horses to thrive without some winter shelter. But the level of stabling, and the amount of time they'd need to be stabled, would still be far less than sheep, which would make them cheaper animals to have.
Of course, even if they acquired good breeding stock from the Norse, they might not recognize the full range of uses, since they were mostly used for riding and sheep herding.
I have to say, while I understand for story reasons why you want horses to die out, they probably would be better domesticates for the Thule than sheep.
In The Horse, The Wheel, and Language, it was pointed out the original reason horses were domesticated in the steppes (as a meat animal, not for riding) was almost certainly because they were far more winter-adapted animals than near eastern animals like cattle, sheep, and goats.
When faced with snow, cattle will not eat if the snow is too deep to see forage through. Sheep will push snow aside with their noses, but they continue to do that even in deep cold, to the point their snouts become bloody and frostbitten, and they starve. In contrast, horses clear snow off the ground with their hooves, which not only means they don't do damage to themselves, but they clear enough forage for other animals (after some blizzards in the 1800s in the western U.S., only cattle which followed Mustang herds survived). In addition, horses use their hooves to crack through ice in order to access water to drink when they find it. Sheep and cattle can't figure this out.
Basically, horses can overwinter outdoors in far worse climates than sheep, cattle, or goats can. Of course, tundra is probably a bit too cold (and too cold for too long) in order for even horses to thrive without some winter shelter. But the level of stabling, and the amount of time they'd need to be stabled, would still be far less than sheep, which would make them cheaper animals to have.
Of course, even if they acquired good breeding stock from the Norse, they might not recognize the full range of uses, since they were mostly used for riding and sheep herding.
Last edited:
I can't think of an intercontinental exchange situation where Europeans will be quite as opposed as in this one. As in Africa the local population will have sufficient military might to control interchange. But unlike Africa there is no reservoir of disease to supplement political might.
More and more complex. I'm pretty sure that a "reconstructed" Thule national identity and probably a state will emerge during high colonialism and decolonisation. I'm also certain that the "settler" model of colonialism won't work in Thule areas, which leads us towards the extraction model, no?
yours,
Sam R.
- Status