As spring turned to summer, a group of the People was camped along a river at the base of the mountains. Back at the village, the work of planting the crops was done. While some of the villagers stayed behind to tend the growing corn, beans, and squash, many of the People spread out through the tribe’s territory in small groups, fishing and gathering wild plant foods, and enjoying the warm weather.

The Medicine Man had just finished his morning meal and was walking along the riverbank, inspecting the fish weir. Many of the rivers and larger creeks in the land of the People had these rock structures constructed at strategic places along the streams. Most of the weirs had been in use for generations— some of the bigger ones were constants in the life of the tribe and had existed long beyond the memories of the elders. Each year, groups of the People would camp beside them at the time of the spawning runs of different fish species. Repairs would be made as needed to correct damages from spring floods or changes in the course of the stream. After the weir was put back into working order, it furnished a steady supply of fish, some of which were eaten fresh though the majority were smoked and dried to take back to the village.

The design of the fish weirs was simple but effective. At a narrow, shallow spot in the river, a wall of stones was built across the stream in a downstream-facing V shape, with the top of the rock wall reaching almost to the surface of the water. The structure funneled fish into a narrow opening at the center of the weir. A large woven basket placed in this opening would catch and hold fish moving down the river. During normal times, a fish weir provided several fish a day. When fish were moving downstream after a spawning run, the weir could catch fish by the hundreds or thousands. All that was required was that the People check and empty the fish baskets several times a day. Occasionally, a large fish or floating log would destroy a basket; mostly it was a case of much food for little work, and a festival mood tended to prevail in these fishing camps.

As the Medicine Man walked through the camp, he noticed the large number of fish on the smoking racks. The smoked, dried fish would be a welcome addition to the diet of the people through the coming months. As he walked past the shelter and fire of his elderly aunt, she invited him to stop for some conversation and a cup of spicebush tea. He gladly accepted, and as they talked, he watched as she worked at weaving a fish basket. The old woman was an expert at constructing these baskets. A hollowed log trough beside her held a bundle of long, slender wooden shoots soaking in water so that they would remain pliable until she needed them. The basket that she was constructing was twice as long as a man and about two arm-lengths in diameter. Her basket was almost finished. The main body was completed, and now she was fashioning an inverted funnel-shaped structure at the fish trap’s open end. The fish were easily directed to swim through the opening at the center of the funnel, but once inside the basket trap, it was hard for them to find their way out.

The old woman reached for another shoot from the trough. She split the bigger end of the shoot with a hafted stone blade just enough so that she could fit her fingers into the split, then she split the shoot into equal halves by alternately applying pressure to each side as the split tried to run out to one side or the other. This was a process that required much practice to perfect, but the old woman had been splitting withes and making baskets since before the Medicine Man was born. The Healer noticed her pained expression as she split the shoot and began to weave it into the structure of the fish trap. Periodically, she stopped her work and grimaced as she rubbed the backs of her hands. She explained that once she had been much faster at weaving, but now her hands hurt so much from the intricate work that she had to slow down considerably. Soon, she said as she shook her head and set the basket aside, she supposed she would have to give up her work to the younger women. She held out her hands to emphasize her point, and the healer noticed that they looked stiff and swollen, especially at the knuckle joints. “Perhaps I can help you, Aunt,” he told her.

The Medicine Man examined the shoots that the woman was using to weave the fish trap. The withes which were soaking in the trough had been peeled, but there was a bundle of freshly cut shoots with the bark still on them lying nearby. He picked one up, and borrowing the woman’s stone knife, he scraped off a half-handful of the bark into the cup that she had given him the spicebush tea in. He filled the cup with steaming hot water from a pot that still simmered beside her breakfast fire. He let it steep for a while and then handed it to her. She sipped from the cup and made a wry face.

“It is very bitter, but it will help to ease the pain in your hands,” the Healer told her. “You saw me make the medicine—you can easily brew it yourself. Take a cup each morning, or whenever your hands are bothering you.”

As the Medicine Man walked through camp later that day, he noticed that the old woman was busily back at work. She smiled as she waved to him. Perhaps the young women would not get to take over her work any time soon. He well knew the pain- and inflammation-relieving effects of the bark tea. After all, he was no longer young himself and had his own share of aches and pains. He himself took a cup of the same bark tea each morning.

The healing plant used by the Medicine Man was the willow (Salix spp.). From coast to coast, from the
Arctic to the subtropics, some type of willow grows almost everywhere in the Northern Hemisphere with over a hundred species in North America. These woody plants of the willow family (Salicaceae) range in size from dwarf shrubs to large trees. Most species grow in open, moist habitats near water. Willows have simple leaves that are alternately arranged on brittle twigs in most native species, and the buds have only one covering scale. The flower is a catkin, and the seed capsules often produce large quantities of cottony down.

Medicine

The willow has long been known as a healing plant. It has astringent, diaphoretic, antiseptic, anti-inflammatory, febrifuge, and other properties. The inner bark is the part of the plant that is most commonly used medicinally. Among the active components found in willow bark is salicylic acid, which is very similar in
chemical composition to aspirin. It has the same effects of relieving pain, fevers, and inflammation as aspirin.
Commercial aspirin was actually originally produced as a synthetic substitute for willow bark tea, which has
an extremely long history of usage for the treatment of headaches, fevers, and the pain and inflammation of arthritis.

Willow also has antiseptic properties and was once widely used externally as a poultice or wash for infected or gangrenous wounds, sores, inflamed eyes, venereal diseases, and skin infections. An infusion was used in treatment of diarrhea and digestive problems, sore throats, and various other internal complaints. The astringent properties of willow make it an effective styptic to stop bleeding, and it was highly esteemed for this purpose by some Native American tribes. Some species of willow are claimed to have mild sedative properties.

The medicinal properties and chemical constituents of willows may vary greatly from species to species. One interesting example is that some tribes considered the willow to be an aphrodisiac, while others used it as a contraceptive or to repress sexual desire.

Food

Willows generally have very little food value, other than as browse for game and livestock. The catkins, young
shoots, and inner bark of some species can and have been eaten as survival or famine food.

Other Uses

Willows have long provided useful materials to peoples throughout the many regions where they grow. The shoots of many species of willows are long and flexible, and some species are considered among the best materials for basket weaving. Willows have long been cultivated and coppiced in Europe for this purpose. The flexible shoots were also used to make snowshoes, hoop nets for fishing, and other similar items. Mountain men and other trappers during the western fur trade era commonly fashioned willow shoots into hoops for stretching and drying beaver hides. Thicker shoots and saplings have been used to construct the frames of wigwags and sweat lodges, or woven between upright posts to make fences and wattle-and-daub walls of buildings.

Willow wood is light and fairly weak, but has good impact resistance. Willow wood has been used for cricket bats and polo balls, and in the years before modern plastics, prosthetic limbs were often made from willow. Some tribes of Native Americans who lived in areas where other trees were scarce sometimes made bows from willow wood.

Willow isn’t very good firewood, but the wood produces an excellent charcoal which is valued for making gunpowder, filters, and art charcoal for drawing. The wood produces creosote, methanol, and other industrial chemicals.

The seed down of some willows has been used to stuff pillows and winter clothing. Some species reportedly have thread for making cloth. Some types of willows have a stringy, tough inner bark that has been twisted into cordage and woven into bags, fabrics, and nets. The roots of many species yield red and black dyes. Willow bark contains tannins, and is sometimes used for tanning fine leathers.

Willows are important stabilizers of stream banks, islands, and other riparian areas. Willows often propagate themselves by broken twigs, which are carried downstream and root into the bank wherever they wash up. Willow twigs contain a rooting hormone that makes them one of the easiest woody plants to root cuttings from. In fact, stream bank stabilization projects often use freshly cut willow stakes, which are simply sharpened and driven into the ground as they are. Even fence-postsized stakes of several inches in diameter will usually take root and grow. A solution of willow twigs chopped up and steeped in water can even be used in place of a commercial rooting hormone to dip cuttings of other species of plants to make them root faster and easier.

Our ancestors lived intimately with the land and over time, accumulated much knowledge of which plants to use for different purposes. Before industrial civilization, this knowledge was widespread and necessary for survival. Now, much knowledge has been lost. It is our duty and in our best interests to preserve useful plant knowledge and incorporate it into our lives as well as to preserve our environment and the wild plants that in the future may once again become our very means of survival.