Sage Journals: Discover world-class research

Abstract

In British Columbia (BC), Canada, as in many other parts of the world, past Indigenous management of forests has resulted in relict forest gardens composed of herbaceous, understory, tree, and shrub species with nutritional, material, cultural, and/or economic value that continue to grow adjacent to habitation sites, villages, and archaeological sites. However, recognition of these bio-culturally important sites has been lacking in research, consultation, and regulatory contexts. In this research, we assess the plant species composition of forest gardens across habitats and across two broad coastal regions—the Central Coast and the Discovery Islands (Haíłzaqv, Wuikinuxv, ƛohos giǰi (Klahoose), Homalco, Tla’amin, We Wai kai, We Wai Kum, and K’ómoks territories)—to identify coastal forest garden indicator species. We found differences in forest garden plant communities across regions, habitats, and site types. We also incorporate archaeological and dendrological techniques to help better understand the complexity of historical and ancient land-use in the Pacific Northwest, while appreciating the diversity of Indigenous people's stewardship practice over space and through time. Formal recognition of these sites is needed and has implications for social justice and land management.

Keywords

forest gardens ethnobotany archaeology dendrochronology Pacific Northwest Coast Canada

Introduction

Recognition of the longstanding interactions between Indigenous peoples and landscapes has recently enabled a better scholarly understanding of the ecological effects arising from human connections to culturally important places (Rick et al. 2022; Kurz et al. 2023). For example, the composition and structure of some purportedly “wild” plant communities are now recognized as resulting from both biophysical and cultural processes (Abrams and Nowacki 2008; Coughlan and Nelson 2018; Odonne et al. 2019; Feinman and Nicholas 2020; Tulowiecki et al. 2022). Globally, forest gardening is one of the many strategies that, over centuries and in some cases millennia, have resulted in forested ecosystems managed, maintained, and stewarded by people (e.g., Ford and Nigh 2015).

While forest gardens are a broad conceptual term, representing substantial variability across space and time, many are characterized by a predominant presence of small trees and shrubs, particularly perennial fruit and nut species, with herbaceous roots and greens in the understory (e.g., Perera and Rajapakse 1991; Ford and Nigh 2015). Historical and ancient forest gardens have been documented across Australia and the Neo- and Afro-tropics; however, the management strategies and terminology describing forest garden management differ regionally. For example, in Australia, ancient Aboriginal “food forests”, which inspired the modern permaculture movement (Mollison 1998), are characterized by perennial management practices, including the use of fire, which resulted in human-modified ecosystems across the continent (Gammage 2012). In the Brazilian Amazon, the distribution of domesticated plant species, coupled with the management of perennial trees, has been shown to increase plant richness and abundance in forests and around habitation sites (Balée 2013; Levis et al. 2017). In Morocco, a 65-acre communal forest cultivated for over 2,000 years has been termed an “ancient garden” and is still actively managed by nearby inhabitants (Wallace 2019).

While the terms (e.g., agroforestry, cultural forests, novel forests, etc.) may differ, similar historical and ancient forest gardening practices have been documented in Belize (Ford and Nigh 2015), southern India (Nogué et al. 2018), Guinea (Fairhead and Leach 1996), Hawaii (Lincoln and Ladefoged 2014) and elsewhere. Many of the plant species in forest gardens globally, although managed, would not be considered “domesticated” under the strict definitions offered in Eurasian agricultural contexts (Lepofsky and Lertzman 2008). However, in some cases, the structure and function of managed plants in these ecosystems appear to differ significantly from other nearby forested ecosystems (Armstrong et al. 2024).

In what is colonially called British Columbia (BC), Canada, Indigenous peoples have occupied coastal regions since time immemorial (at minimum 14,000 years according to oral histories and archaeological records [McLaren et al. 2015, 2018; Gauvreau et al. 2023]). During this time, people actively managed these landscapes to increase and sustain fish, shellfish, and animal populations (Lepofsky et al. 2015; Morin et al. 2021). Long-term management of these biota on the central and south coast of BC has resulted material legacies observed throughout the region, including clam gardens, stone fish traps and weirs, proprietary boundary markers, and so on (Moss, Erlandson, and Stuckenrath 1990; White 2003; Toniello et al. 2019). While marine and riverine foods were fundamental components of people's diets, recent isotopic analyses confirm that some people on the northern Northwest Coast (Laxyuubm, Ts’msyem) relied on plant foods for up to 60% of their total dietary calories (Schwarcz, Knyf, and Cybulski 2023). Ethnographic and oral records suggest people actively managed plants on the coast; however, little is known about the legacies of these practices. Researchers are only beginning to understand that forest garden management and the translocation and stewardship of plant foods likely increased the availability and productivity of berry, nut, and root foods in coastal diets (McDonald 2005; McCune, Pellatt, and Vellend 2013; Armstrong et al. 2023, 2024).

Forest gardens have long been recognized by Indigenous communities but have only recently been characterized in scientific literature (Armstrong 2017; Vanier 2022). Ethnoecologists, Indigenous scholars, and collaborators working in BC who have highlighted the importance of plant foods and medicines in historical contexts have found that plant communities are significantly different (e.g., composition and structure) at, and/or near, archeological sites compared to areas with less intensive (or less understood) evidence of land-use (Lepofsky et al. 2017; Fisher et al. 2019; Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022). Although many ancestral villages and habitation sites have recently been uninhabited due to settler-colonial displacement, disease, and ongoing encroachment, in some cases, remnants of perennial plant management are observed in the assemblage and structure of plants species that continue to grow near such sites, along with unique soil structures, ethnographic/linguistic records, and other data. While some studies have illustrated the impact archaeological middens have on contemporary plant species composition, health, and vigor (Hrdlička 1937; Trant et al. 2016; Fisher et al. 2019; Feinman and Nicholas 2020) other research has shown that those plant assemblages can differ significantly from nearby forest gardens, berry plots, and orchards, allowing us to infer that some assemblages are not incidental (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022, 2023).

The survey and identification of plant management legacies across BC are improving (e.g., Turner 1999; Lloyd 2011; Lepofsky and Lyons 2013; Turner, Deur, and Lepofsky 2013; Lyons et al. 2016, 2021; Fisher et al. 2019; Armstrong et al. 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024; Maurice-Hammond et al. 2023), and previous interdisciplinary research employing archaeological and ecological methods has had success in identifying key features of forest gardens (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022). However, questions regarding the variability, scale, and scope of plant management remain. For example, some forest garden indicator species may be more valuable than others in ascertaining the location and/or timing of stewardship legacies. Pacific crabapple (Malus fusca; hereafter referred to as crabapple) is an important food, medicine, and material plant for coastal Indigenous peoples (Turner 2014a). Crabapples are small deciduous trees or shrubby bushes that bare small, tart pomes in the fall (Klinkenburg 2020a) (Figure 1A). A wealth of ethnobotanical research documents historical Indigenous cultivation and management of the tree, which is still practiced by some Indigenous communities today (Wyllie de Echeverria 2013; Vanier 2022; Wickham et al. 2022). Previous forest garden research in BC identified crabapple as an indicator species of anthropogenically modified ecosystems such as forest gardens and/orchards (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022, 2023).

Figure 1.

(A) The pomes of Malus fusca (Pacific crabapple). These small, tart apples are an important traditional food for coastal Indigenous people. (B) Pictures of two different forms of crabapple trees observed across the Central Coast and Discovery Islands, BC. Monumental tree form of crabapple. The monumental forms are large and have classic tree-like forms and arranged in orchard-like stands. (C) Volunteer tree form of crabapple. The volunteer form is small and shrubby.

Crabapple favours growing in moist environments: streambanks, shorelines, estuary fringes, swamps, and bogs at low elevation (Klinkenburg 2020a). It is therefore a common sight along the shorelines of coastal BC, where local and scientific knowledge recognizes two forms of Pacific crabapple: monumental and volunteer (Figure 1B and C) (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022). Monumental trees are found growing together in a grove—a pattern noticed in other apple management contexts—and maybe referred to an orchard (Rackham 2015). Monumental groves were located several metres inland and had conifers encroaching into and shading their canopy. Monumental trees tend to have large tree-like forms with one central trunk (average DBH >10 in). Some have intensive epiphyte growth, with thick mats of moss on their trunks and branches, and/or long lichens hanging from their branches. Conversely, volunteer trees are smaller (average DBH <10 in) and shrubbier than monumental trees and can have multiple stems. Volunteer trees are more dispersed throughout the landscape, and they tend to grow along shoreline edges or in clearings like estuaries and appear to be younger trees, likely established without human mediation (in bear or bird droppings, washed ashore by lakes/rivers/ocean tides, or dropped/sprouted from neighbouring crabapple trees). Monumental crabapple trees adjacent to archaeological habitation sites were likely stewarded by people in the past and are good indicators of forest gardens in coastal ecosystems (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022).

The objective of this research is to assess plant species composition and archaeological data in forest gardens across coastal BC on a broad scale, between regions, between habitats, and between site types. We use dendroecological data to determine if an indicator of forest gardens – monumental crabapple – can be used to infer time of site management. We hypothesize that there will be some overlap in plant species composition, but they will largely differ regionally and between habitats, facilitating discussion about the complexities and characteristics of ascertaining stewardship legacies. We also focus on Pacific crabapple stewardship across both regions to assess how monumental orchards relate to forest gardening more broadly. Recognizing, recording, and describing sites of purported plant management legacies provides opportunities to better understand localized livelihoods and land-use histories; how people connected to, and modified their inhabited landscapes; and supplements the knowledge of people continuing these practices today.

Methods

Study Regions

Data were collected in 2019 from field sites across two study regions: (1) the Central Coast, including Haíłzaqv and Wuikinuxv territories, and (2) Discovery Islands, including ƛohos giǰi (Klahoose), Homalco, Tla’amin, We Wai kai, We Wai Kum, and K’ómoks territories (Figure 2). The lands and waters of the Central Coast and the Discovery Islands have been extensively managed by Indigenous people for millennia. Indigenous knowledge places people in Haíłzaqv and Wuikinuxv (Central Coast) landscapes at the end of the last ice age (at least 14,000 years ago), and this oral history is supported by archaeological evidence (McLaren et al. 2018; Gauvreau et al. 2023). Archaeological evidence indicates that people inhabited the Discovery Islands at least 13,000 years ago (Fedje et al. 2021). There are eight previously reported continuously occupied village sites in the Central Coast study region, and many more are recorded in the Discovery Islands (RAAD 2023). The additional presence of thousands of clam gardens, fish traps, canoe pulls, estuarine root gardens, and camp and habitation sites demonstrates how the areas were intensively stewarded and highly populated in the past (McLaren et al. 2015; RAAD 2023).

Figure 2.

A map of coastal British Columbia, Canada, showing the general regions of the Discovery Islands and the Central Coast. These two regions are where the study sites in the research are located. Map courtesy of Will McInnes/Hakai Institute.

Both the Central Coast and the Discovery Islands regions are located within the Coastal Western Hemlock biogeoclimatic zone (Meidinger and Pojar 1991). The Discovery Islands are situated in the Dry Maritime subzone, which is characterized by warm, dry summers and warm winters (mean annual temperature 9.8°C) with moderate amounts of precipitation (mean annual precipitation 498 mm) (averages calculated before 1991; Meidinger and Pojar 1991). Dry Maritime forests are composed of Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii (Mirb.) Franco), western hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla (Raf.) Sarg.), and western redcedar (Thuja plicata Donn ex D. Don) (Meidinger and Pojar 1991). Salal (Gaultheria shallon Pursh), dull Oregon grape (Berberis nervosa), and red huckleberry (Vaccinium parvifolium Sm.) are typical of the shrub layer (Meidinger and Pojar 1991).

The Central Coast is part of the wet Hypermaritime subzone, which is characterized by cool summers and warm winters, with mean annual temperatures of 7.6°C, and high amounts of precipitation (mean annual precipitation 1,349 mm, three time more than the Discovery Islands) (averages calculated before 1991; Meidinger and Pojar 1991). The Hypermartime forests are heterogeneous, but typically represented by mixed stands of western hemlock, western redcedar, Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis (Bong.) Carrière). Yellow cedar (Callitropsis nootkatensis (D. Don) Oerst. Ex D.P. Little), shore pine (Pinus contorta Douglas ex Loudon), and mountain hemlock (Tsuga mertensiana (Bong.) Carrière) are also locally abundant in outer coastal regions (Meidinger and Pojar 1991). Shrub layers often consist of Alaskan blueberry (V. alaskaense Howell), red huckleberry, salal, and deer fern (Blechnum spicant) (Meidinger and Pojar 1991).

Site Selection

Effective “control” sites—locations without intensive human modifications—are difficult to determine in this region as Indigenous land-use is extensive at both temporal and landscape scales. To use the “paired site approach” other studies have considered “periphery” sites—sites that are peripheral to archaeological sites and purported land-use locales and have legacies of less intense use and management but similar environmental characteristics (e.g., habitat, soil type, aspect, slope, etc.) (Fisher et al. 2019; Schang, Cox, and Trant 2022; Armstrong et al. 2023; Maurice-Hammond et al. 2023). We adopted this approach to test whether plant communities at coastal forest gardens differed significantly from the broader plant community. However, our “control” sites were not periphery to our forest garden sites; instead they were chosen based on the presence of volunteer or monumental crabapple. A lack of monumental crabapple at a site indicates there has been a lower intensity of management; therefore we paired “low intensity” sites against “forest garden” sites.

To identify potential sites, we first targeted Pacific crabapple because much of coastal BC is composed of coniferous forests and so potential Pacific crabapple sites, (which are often located in mixed deciduous forests or along the margins of conifer forests, estuarine, riverine, and island shorelines), can sometimes be distinguished remotely with satellite and aerial imagery (Armstrong et al. 2023). We explored Google Earth imagery for canopy cover characteristic of broadleaf trees with archaeological data downloaded from the Remote Access to Archaeological Data platform (RAAD 2023). We targeted broadleaf clearings to be within or directly adjacent to (<50 m) the RAAD archaeological site polygon (which is coarse), and as such, we selected clearings within that range. For logistical reasons, we targeted RAAD archaeological sites that had a portion of their polygon located at the shoreline. In total, 34 potential study sites were identified. All sites included in the study are near to RAAD identified archaeological sites with the potential for higher intensity or frequency of use (e.g., long-term habitation sites or seasonal sites as denoted by archaeological features such as house depressions and clam gardens; for a full list see Appendix Table A1).

After an initial survey of the 34 potential sites, we excluded five that had neither archaeological features nor crabapples. We grouped the remaining 29 sites into “forest garden” sites (n = 16) or “low intensity” sites (n = 12). Forest garden sites have a minimum of five monumental crabapples. Low-intensity sites have either (1) less than five monumental crabapples, (2) only volunteer crabapples, or (3) no crabapples at all. We classified each site as an estuary, shoreline, or streambank habitat based on a site's relative position to the closest body of water.

It should be noted that, (1) not all archaeological sites are recorded and displayed in RAAD and (2) many sites in RAAD are categorized as “pending” and their data is not yet available or approved by the BC Archaeology Branch. Therefore, more sites likely exist. Only a few archaeological sites had radiocarbon dates associated with them, and as a result of these incomplete records, temporal scales (timing of site occupation) could not be considered in our analyses.

Surveys

We visited all 34 sites identified, 29 of which were surveyed more thoroughly. At these 29 sites, we conducted archaeological and botanical “blitzes,” where one researcher walked through the study site and recorded the presence and number of visible archaeological features (defined in Table 1) and ethnobotanically salient plant species.

Table 1.

A Description of Archaeological Terms Used to Describe Features or Artifacts That Could Be Found at Archaeological Sites.

Feature/ Site Type	Description	Reference
Shell midden	Heap or soil layer composed of predominantly shellfish fragments created by past coastal Indigenous people.	(Ceci 1984; Rick 2024)
Culturally modified tree (CMT)	Tree that has been altered by Indigenous people as part as their traditional use of forest resources.	(Stryd 2001)
Fish trap or weir (intertidal)	Rock or wooden obstructions built across a river or tidal waters that fish swim into and can’t escape.	(Stewart 1977)
Clam garden	Human created rock terraces that expand the beach area to make it optimal for clam growth and harvest.	(Augustine and Dearden 2014)
Canoe run	Section of shoreline in which a laneway has been cleared of rocks and boulders to land canoes and access important landfalls.	(Copp 2018)
Fire scar	A healing or healed damage to woody vegetation caused by fire. Often visible at the base of a tree, usually triangular in shape.	(Johnson and Gutsell 1994)
Petroglyph	Rock art made by a reductive (carving, engraving, etc.) processes.	(Bednarik 1998)
Root garden	Areas of coastal marshland where edible plants are cultivated, some of which are demarcated by plots or terracing.	(Deur 2002; Maurice-Hammond et al. 2023)

A study site was defined as the RAAD archeological polygon and its periphery of up to 50 m (as defined by RAAD as the “buffer zone – indicating areas with high potential for archaeological discovery”). The size of the sites ranged from 286 to 12,616 m² (however, the larger sites included intertidal portions that were not surveyed). The closest sites were located 2 km (Discovery Islands) and 3.3 km (Central Coast) apart in a straight line. The sites furthest apart were a straight-line 42 km (Discovery Islands) and 107 km (Central Coast).

We deemed ethnobotanically salient plants as those used by coastal Indigenous communities for nutritional, material, and/or medicinal purposes (Turner 1973a, 1973b, 1995; Turner and Bell 1973, 1973). Plant species were considered culturally important coastal plants if they were listed in Table5-1, 6-1, or 7-1 of (Turner 2014a) and their range overlapped with coastal regions. Some culturally important plants that were deemed hyper-abundant or ubiquitous throughout both of the biogeoclimatically different study areas and across habitats (e.g., salal) were noted but not systematically recorded during surveys, for a full list of these species see Appendix Table A2.

Dendrochronology

Crabapple tree cores (n = 27) were taken from a random selection of crabapple trees across survey sites on the Central Coast (as per BC Parks research permit no. 110279 and with permission from Haíłzaqv and Wuikinuxv Nations). We cored a minimum of one and a maximum of three trees at each site. All trees cored had a DBH of >10 in. Due to multiple occurrences of recumbent growing trunks, tree cores were sampled at the base of the trunk with an increment borer. Cores were dried, mounted, sanded, and polished in the lab. To establish minimum ages, annual growth rings were counted with a Velmex sliding stage micrometre (0.001 mm precision), a binocular microscope (45× magnification) and Measure J2X software (VoorTech Consulting, Holderness, New Hampshire, USA). It should be noted that crabapple growth rings are diffuse-porous and, compared to conifer trees, produce faint and false rings. We overcame these challenges by assigning two analysts to each core and cores were counted more than once by each analyst. The counts were then averaged. Cores that were uncountable were excluded from further analyses (n = 3).

Statistical Analysis

All analyses were performed in R version 2023.03.0 + 386 (R Core Team 2022). To test if there are statistically significant differences in plant species composition between regions (Central Coast, Discovery Islands), habitats (streambank, shoreline, estuary), and site types (forest garden, low intensity) we analyzed the relative abundance of each plant species per region/habitat/site type using analysis of similarity (ANOSIM) (Clarke 1993) in the ‘vegan’ package (Oksanen et al. 2017) with 999 permutations.

To visualize the differences in plant species composition at each site between regions, habitats, and site types and as a supplement to the ANOSIM, we performed a nonmetric multidimensional scaling (NMDS) analysis with a Bray-Curtis index (which is not sensitive to rare species and focuses on differences in community composition), using the ‘vegan’ package. NMDS results were illustrated using the ‘ggplot2’ package (Wickham 2016).

To identify which species are found more often in a group than others (indicator species) we used the multipatt function in the R package indicspecies (De Cáceres and Legendre 2009) with 999 permutations. We included all plant species abundance data, as well as abundance data of the different tree forms of crabapple (monumental vs. volunteer) and the abundance of cultural features at a site. We ran three tests with different factors: site type (forest garden, low intensity), habitat (streambank, shoreline, estuary), and region (Central Coast, Discovery Islands).

Results

Of the 29 study sites, 24 had archaeological features recorded (Table 2) and to the best of our knowledge (which includes communications with the relevant Nations), none of the sites appeared to be currently stewarded (i.e., actively managed for plant production). However, in Wuikinuxv territories, there is active management of crabapple trees at sites nearby (Wickham et al. 2022) and in other territories, there is forest gardening planned for some sites in the future. Across the 29 study sites, we recorded 20 ethnobotanically salient plant species (that were not ubiquitous throughout the two study regions) (Table 3).

Table 2.

A List of the Archaeological Features Observed Near all 29 Surveyed Sites. Y = Yes, Blank = No Sightings Recorded.

Site	Midden	CMT	Fish Trap/weir	Clam Garden	Canoe Run	Fire Scar	Petroglyph
Discovery Islands
1	Y*			Y*		1
2	Y*			Y*	3
3	Y*	1*		Y*
4	Y*			Y*
5	Y*		1*	Y*
6	Y*
21	Y*			Y*
22	Y*				2
23	Y*
Central Coast
7		1	1*		2*
8	Y*		1*		1*	1
9	Y*	1
10	Y*	3*
11	Y*	1*
12
13	Y*	1*				2
14	Y*
15			1*
16
17			2*
18			2*
19	Y*						Y*
20	Y	1
25
26
27	Y*					2
28
29

*Indicate feature is also listed on RAAD for the site (note that fire scars are not specified on RAAD and may be listed as CMTs or unrecorded).

Table 3.

A List of the Culturally Important Plants Observed at Forest Garden Sites Throughout the Central Coast and Discovery Islands.

Both Regions	Central Coast	Discovery Islands
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)	Common silverweed (Argentina anserina)	Saskatoon (Amelanchier alnifolia)
Cow-parsnip (Heracleum maximum)	Northern rice root (Fritillaria camschatcensis)	Stinging nettle (Urtica dioica)
Devil's club (Oplopanax horridus)	Pacific yew (Taxus brevifolia)	Bracken fern (Pteridium aquilinum)
Springbank clover (Trifolium wormskioldii)	Red elderberry (Sambucus racemose)	Black gooseberry (Ribes lacustre)
Nootka rose (Rosa nutkana)	Pacific ninebark (Physocarpus capitatus)
Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis)	Highbush cranberry (Viburnum edule)
Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus)
Bitter cherry (Prunus emarginata)
Sitka columbine (Aquilegia formosa)
Monumental Crabapple (Malus fusca)
Volunteer crabapple (Malus fusca)

The analysis of similarities indicated a significant distinction between plant species composition at sites in the Central Coast and the Discovery Island regions (ANOSIM; factor = region, R = 0.26, p = 0.0042). The analysis of similarities indicated a significant distinction between plant species composition at different habitats, (streambank, shoreline, and estuary) (ANOSIM; factor = habitat, R = 0.27, p = 0.0023). The analysis of similarities revealed a significant distinction between plant species composition at forest gardens and low-intensity sites (ANOSIM; factor = site type, R = 0.14, p = 0.002). NMDS analyses supported these distinctions, converging with a stress value of > 0.1 in two dimensions (Figure 3). All ANOSIM results reported R values closer to 0 (versus 1), indicating weak to moderate dissimilarities between groups or that environmental factors we have not considered are driving the variability.

Figure 3.

Non-metric dimensional scaling (NMDS) of sites across regions, habitats, and site types. Each point corresponds to a site. The habitats are denoted by the point's shape (see legend) and each point has the region displayed next to it (CC = Central Coast, DI = Discovery Islands). Points that are closer together are more similar than those that are further apart. The pink polygon encompasses forest garden sites, and the blue polygon encompasses low-intensity sites.

Twelve plants were indicators of forest gardens (Table 4), with monumental crabapple being a highly significant indicator (p = 0.001). Cultural features were also strong indicators of forest gardens (p = 0.003). Eight plants were indicators of low-intensity sites, with volunteer crabapple (p = 0.011) being a strong indicator (Table 4).

Table 4.

Indicator Species for Coastal Forest Garden and Low-Intensity Management Sites.

Site	Species	P-Value
Forest Garden	Monumental crabapple (Malus fusca)	0.001
	Bracken fern (Pteridium aquilinum)	0.481
	Pacific yew (Taxus brevifolia)	0.196
	Devils club Oplopanax horridus)	0.484
	Columbine (Aquilegia formosa)	0.485
	Saskatoon (Amelanchier alnifolia)	1.000
	Stinging nettle (Urtica dioica)	1.000
	Pacific ninebark Physocarpus capitatus)	1.000
	Black Gooseberry (Ribes lacustre)	1.000
	Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus)	1.000
	Cow-parsnip (Heracleum maximum)	0.815
	Bitter cherry (Prunus emarginata)	0.991
Low Intensity	Volunteer crabapple (Malus fusca)	0.021
	Red elderberry (Sambucus racemose)	0.174
	Nootka rose (Rosa nutkana)	0.054
	Highbush cranberry (Viburnum edule)	0.452
	Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)	0.560
	Common silverweed (Argentina anserina)	0.668
	Northern riceroot (Fritillaria camschatcensis)	0.838
	Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis)	0.896

Bolded species indicate that they are highly significant site indicators.

Four plants were identified as indicators of forest gardens in estuary habitats, with springbank clover (Trifolium wormskioldii) (p = 0.006) as a strong indicator (Table A3). Seven plants were species indicators of forest gardens in shoreline habitats, with no significant species indicators (Table A3). Six plants were indicators of streambank habitats, with no significant species indicators (Table A5). Crabapple and common cow-parsnip (Heracleum maximum) were identified as significant species indicators of forest gardens near the intertidal area, as opposed to a freshwater area such as a streambank (Table A3).

Eight plants were indicators of forest gardens specific to the Central Coast region (Table A4). Twelve plants and cultural features were indicators of Discovery Islands’ forest gardens with bitter cherry (Prunus emarginata) (p = 0.002) as a strong indicator (Table A4).

A total of 27 tree cores representing 27 individual monumental crabapple trees were aged but only three hit piths, therefore the estimated ages are a minimum and the trees could be several years older. Most of the trees ranged from 50 to 100 years old (Appendix Figure A1). The two youngest trees were established 15 years before sampling (they were established by 2004). Only two trees were over 100 years old, one being established at least 101 years from sampling (established in, or prior to, ca. 1918) and the oldest tree was established at least 215 years from sampling (established in, or prior to, ca. 1804) (Appendix Figure A1).

Discussion

Of the 29 sites visited, we categorized 16 of them as forest gardens that were likely stewarded and managed by people. This was based on their proximity to ancient or historical habitation sites, the presence of archaeological features, and the structure and arrangement of monumental apple trees. We identified the plants that serve as species indicators of forest gardens in the respective regions. We found that the plant composition and abundance at coastal forest gardens varied regionally and across different habitats. We found that the monumental crabapple trees throughout the Central Coast ranged in minimum age from 15 to 215 years old, with most trees being 50–100 years old. This research can help aid in the identification of coastal forest gardens and highlights the diversity apparent in the practices and legacies across different ecological and cultural regions.

Plant Composition

The composition of culturally important plants as an indicator of forest gardens is worthy of further discussion. The diversity of indicator plants at mainland sites (n = 15) is slightly higher than at coastal sites (n = 12). Of the 15 plant species that are indicators of mainland forest gardens (and across a larger area, ∼900 km) (Armstrong et al. 2023), we recorded three of the same species as indicators of coastal forest garden sites (covering ∼350 km). These include Pacific crabapple (Malus fusca), saskatoon berry (Amelanchier alnifolia), and thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus). Mainland forest garden canopy layer indicator trees include Pacific crabapple and beaked hazelnut (Corylus cornuta), whereas coastal forest garden canopy layers include Pacific crabapple and bitter cherry (Prunus emarginata). Two shrubs recorded as mainland indicators (oval leaf blueberry; Vaccinium ovalifolium and black twinberry; Lonicera involucrata), were ubiquitous across coastal sites. A further two mainland indicators shrubs, Nootka rose (Rosa nutkana) and highbush cranberry (Viburnum edule) were found to be indicators of lower intensity coastal sites. There are no overlapping herbaceous indicator species between mainland and coastal forest gardens. Considering the diversity apparent between forest gardens compels further investigation, using multiple lines of evidence (e.g., soil analyses, historic air photos, ethnographic records) to make more robust inferences about indicators of historical and ancient land-use practices.

The frequency and diversity of edible and medicinal plant species at a given site is a compelling and relatively accessible and expedient way of characterizing a potential forest garden. Although attempts to define distinctions between forest gardens are complex and should not be narrowly defined, in some cases, categories could help us to better explain management variability in the region. We propose that many coastal forest garden sites could also be sub-categorized as orchards as they host fewer species of culturally important plants than mainland forest gardens and they are dominated by monumental crabapple. Previous research on crabapple orcharding in Nuu-chah-nulth territory (which is southwest of the Central Coast and west of the Discovery Islands) also demonstrates this; monumental crabapple was a significant indicator species and plant diversity was lower (n = 6) (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022). Orcharding could be categorized as a subset of forest gardening activities, a management strategy within the forest gardening portfolio alongside root gardening and berry cultivation.

Habitat and Regional Variability

The indicator species for forest gardens had regional and habitat differences. Previous research on forest gardens in BC spread across five degrees of latitude also found regional differentiation between northern and southern sites (Armstrong et al. 2023). Even though all the ethnobotanically salient plants present in our survey are native to both study areas, plant diversity and abundance in the Central Coast and Discovery Islands sites were significantly distinct. While both the Central Coast and Discovery Islands forest gardens are within the same biogeographic zone, their climates are distinct and are further divided into different subzones (Meidinger and Pojar 1991). The Central Coast is a wetter and slightly cooler climate, while the Discovery Islands are drier and warmer (Meidinger and Pojar 1991). The difference in climate likely explains why some species are associated with one region and not the other. For example, saskatoon berry tends to favour drier conditions and, as such, may explain why it is an indicator of forest gardens at the Discovery Islands, and not the Central Coast sites (Klinkenburg 2020b).

Similarly, plants’ preferences and tolerances reflect their abundance across habitats. Pacific yew, stinging nettle, and bracken fern are some of the indicators of streambank habitats. These three species are commonly found in forest habitats (Klinka et al. 2007). Streambanks tend to have higher canopy cover than both estuaries and shorelines, which could explain why these three plants are indicative of streambank habitats.

However, the variation of species associated with forest garden sites across regions and habitats may also reflect cultural preferences. Springbank clover (Trifolium wormskioldii), yarrow (Achillea millefolium), and common silverweed (Argentina anserina) are indicators of forest gardens in estuary habitats (Figure 4). All are moisture-loving species that grow in estuaries, however, they are also commonly seen along streambanks and shorelines (Fretwell, Starzomski, and Brietzke 2013). Since all three of these habitats were ubiquitous throughout both study regions (Pojar and MacKinnon 2004), these plants’ occurrence as estuary indicators could be due to past management preferences. Stewarding estuarine “root gardens” and cultivating these three particular species together is a well-documented management practice (Deur 2002; Ames 2005; Maurice-Hammond et al. 2023), further evidence to support that the appearance of these plants in estuarine forest gardens is due to cultural practice.

Figure 4.

A coastal forest garden in an estuary habitat on the Central Coast. Crabapple trees, both monumental and volunteer form, can be seen in the background. Yarrow and silverweed are abundant in the foreground.

Spatially, culturally, and ecologically, people's land-use histories and plant stewardship practices should be conceptualized as highly variable. Terms like root gardens, berry patches, and orchards are used under the umbrella of forest gardening to highlight various forms of perennial plant management. However, these practices will vary in different ecological and cultural contexts and are likely to leave equally varied legacies or signatures decades or centuries after such practices have ceased (e.g., Cook-Patton et al. 2014; Trant et al. 2016; Fisher et al. 2019; Armstrong et al. 2021, 2023; Schang, Cox, and Trant 2022; Vanier 2022).

Pacific Crabapple

The association of crabapple with habitation sites is congruent with observations elsewhere in the province. Ts’msyen researchers consider the presence of crabapple trees a tell-tale sign of a campsite or habitation site (Armstrong, C.G., personal observation); and in the 1980s anthropologist Jim McDonald noted that “wherever the old people camped, there are crabapples” (McDonald 2005, 2003). The association between crabapple and habitation sites is intuitive because of its importance as food, medicine, and material. Some uses for crabapples were ubiquitous across many regions; for example, many coastal people used crabapple wood as digging tools and the small, tart fruits were harvested in the late summer and early fall for food (Turner 2014a). Other uses, preparation methods, and recipes were more culturally or geographically specific.

On the Central Coast (Haíłzaqv and Wuikinuxv territories) and in the northern parts of the Discovery Island range (Kwakwaka’wakw territory), sometimes the fruits would be left on the branches until the first frost, which browned, softened, and sweetened them (Turner and Bell 1973; Compton 1993). Because of their acidity, the fruit preserved well; they were either stored raw or cooked and then preserved in fish oil or water (Turner and Turner 2008; Burton 2012; Turner 2014b). Boxes of crabapples were a common trade item and wedding gift. Crabapples mixed with eulachon (Thaleichthys pacificus) grease were served at feasts and potlatch ceremonies (Turner and Bell 1973; Kuhnlein and Turner 1991). In some Haíłzaqv and Wuikinuxv stories, crabapples have supernatural qualities (Turner 2014c), a testament to their cultural significance.

Medicinally, crabapple bark was harvested and boiled as a medicine to treat colds and coughs (Turner 2014d). In Wuikinuxv territories, hunters chewed the bark as a hunger and/or thirst suppressant (Compton 1993). As a technology, crabapple tree branches and trunks offered a valuable source of hardwood for fuel and tools (Burton 2012; Turner 2014e). In Wuikinuxv territories the wood was used to make spoons because it does not crack in water (Compton 1993).

Ethnographic evidence of past crabapple management is relatively rich compared to other food plants. The trees were pruned, fertilized, transplanted, and cultivated (Wyllie de Echeverria 2013; Turner 2014c; Armstrong et al. 2021; Armstrong 2022; Wickham et al. 2022). In Wuikinuxv territory, Elders have memories of stewarding crabapple trees near the village site of Katit as recently as the 1950s (Wickham et al. 2022). At several sites we visited across the Central Coast, trees appeared to have been pruned so that their trunks were low to the ground, making it easier for people to harvest fruit, a practice that has been described to ethnobotanists in other regions (Wyllie de Echeverria 2013). Early accounts of merchant and admiralty ships arriving in Nootka Sound (Mowachaht-Muchalaht) and in Port Alberni (c̓išaaʔatḥ/Tseshaht) territory explicitly note apple “orcharding” of the native crabapple species (Armstrong, Earnshaw, and McAlvay 2022).

Pacific crabapples have a longer lifespan than most apples, often living for 150 years or more (Arno and Hammerly 2007); one of the trees we cored on the Central Coast was at least 215 years old. Crabapples’ fruiting productivity reduces after the age of 80 years (Arno and Hammerly 2007), which means tree stewardship and cultivation would have most likely taken place before that age. Therefore, the time of active site management could be inferred from a dendrochronology of a crabapple orchard. However, complicating this is the fact that crabapples actively regenerate through suckering, so orchards may have had many stratified layer of tree ages, instead of one homogenous planting as we see in colonial contexts. Historical ecologists’ intending to infer the time of active site management from a crabapple dendrochronology would need to take care to choose a fulsome sample size and incorporate additional methods (i.e., soil sampling) as supplementary evidence.

It should be noted that despite being more dispersed across the landscape, volunteer crabapples are important and relevant for people and animal relations. Their short size makes the entire tree/shrub harvestable for humans, bears, and other animals. Presently, the Wuikinuxv Nation harvests crabapples from volunteer trees located in an estuary because they are shorter and more productive than the monumental trees located close to the Wuikinuxv village of Katit in orchards.

Archaeological Features

Based on visual shoreline surveys, shell middens were recorded at every forest garden surveyed in the Discovery Islands, and clam gardens were recorded at all but three sites. We observed shell middens at over half of the surveyed sites on the Central Coast. Augering or soil analysis may reveal middens at more sites. None of the monumental crabapple trees we recorded appeared to grow on top of the middens, but rather, they were recorded adjacent to the site or further inland, behind the midden. Further soil sampling is warranted to confirm this observation. The presence of midden is grounds for the protection of a site under the provincial Heritage Conservation Act, but currently such protections are not granted to forest gardens even if they are located directly above a midden (more below).

Fish traps and weirs were also commonly recorded features at Central Coast forest gardens, with two sites hosting multiple traps or weirs. Salmon (Oncorhynchus spp.) are an important coastal food resource; they migrate from the open ocean to their natal stream and rivers, where they are harvested by weir and fish trap technologies. Several species of salmon (such as chum and coho) make the return migration between August and December and many of the forest garden indicator species are harvestable in the fall (e.g., crabapple, all the currants, bitter cherry). From a seasonal harvesting perspective, it makes sense that the forest gardens are arranged near fish traps/weirs as both are available for harvest at the same time.

No archaeological features were recorded at several sites on the Central Coast. Sites 16 and 25 had no RAAD recordings, and there was nothing sited throughout our surveys. Both sites were on islets, connected to a RAAD archaeological site at low tide, which is why they were not discounted from our initial survey. Site 16 hosted relatively large numbers of estuarine root plants; therefore, its sole potential purpose was that of a forest and/or root garden. Two of the other sites with no archaeological recordings were located in estuaries and had archaeological features listed in RAAD. However, we did not observe them.

Limitations

For future research, we consider several limitations that should be addressed. First, we conducted relatively expedient “blitz” botanical surveys rather than structured, systematic plant surveys. Transect and quadrat sampling would have given us a more refined snapshot of plant diversity, abundance, and edge effects. Second, there was a relative lack of detailed ecological metadata for each site. Site-specific slope, aspect, soil type and soil formation processes, soil moisture, and tree canopy are all important factors when considering a plant's habitat preferences and tolerances. The decision to survey in blitzes was balanced against the number of sites surveyed (n = 34), which, to date, is the largest regional survey for forest gardens in the Pacific Northwest.

Third, there was a lack of ethnographic data. The study spans eight distinct territories, representing multiple languages and language families. While previous work has integrated site-specific ethnographic knowledge and expertise on crabapple management (e.g., Wyllie de Echeverria 2013; Armstrong 2022), and ethnographic data is the most valuable form of knowledge that could complement this research, we forwent hyper-localized inferences for a more regional and broadscale approach. We believe that the emerging patterns will be useful at a local scale as well.

Significance of Orchards and Forest Gardening

Indigenous orcharding can be ancient, historical, contemporary, or a combination of all three. In BC, the Wuikinuxv Nation is still actively managing forest gardens that were originally cultivated by their ancestors (Wickham et al. 2022). Sts’ailes in southwestern BC have developed a forest garden revitalization project on sites that have been aged at over 3,000 years (Vanier 2022). At a number of forest gardens sites, including in Sts’ailes, Haíłzaqv, and Gitselasu (Ts’msyen) territories, historical-ecological research has shown that after the onset of settler colonialism, some communities adopted newly introduced European cultivars (cherry, apple, plum) into their already productive orchard and forest garden systems (Armstrong 2022; “Húy̓at” n.d.). Contemporary management of these legacy ecosystems demonstrates the continued occupation and connection of Indigenous peoples to the plants and landscapes that sustain them. It also reflects the importance of considering the nuances in how these places are managed throughout space and time.

The recognition of forest gardening can link people to their traditional homelands and can re-awaken traditional land-use practices (Simpson 2014; Wehi and Lord 2017; Armstrong et al. 2021). The Indigenous-led reclamation and/or restoration of land-based food systems offer access to intergenerational, place-based opportunities that can connect displaced or younger generations to ancestral traditions and territories (Deloria and Wildcat 2001; Simpson 2014; Joseph, Cuerrier, and Mathews 2022; Grenz and Armstrong 2023). Additionally, forest gardens can aid in reaffirming food sovereignty and healthy nutrition initiatives, which is especially important for remote Indigenous communities (Nabhan 2014; Robin 2019; Joseph and Turner 2020; Sowerwine et al. 2023).

The survey, identification, and recognition of forest gardens and other relevant food systems (berry plots, orchards, root gardens etc.), although an ancient and ongoing practice, is relatively new for policymakers, regulatory bodies, and consultants across BC. Forest garden sites are not currently protected under BC heritage conservation laws. This omission ignores the types of heritage that Indigenous communities consider important (Lepofsky et al. 2020). Archaeological assessments should expand to include plant management legacies and support a more culturally just approach to archaeological practices (Armstrong et al. 2023). On top of that, forest gardens are also not currently protected under any BC environmental management laws or regulations. Indigenous land-use and ecological values are generally devalued or ignored altogether under environmental management policies, and therefore, formal recognition for forest gardens and orchards may be one avenue for overcoming this egregious gap.

Broadly, this work adds to the growing body of knowledges that challenges the “pristine myth” – the notion that the Americas were once a sparsely populated wilderness, where humans had little or no influence (Denevan 1992) by demonstrating the subtle yet long-term impacts ancient people had on their lived landscapes.

Conclusions

We found that coastal forest gardens displayed regionally distinct patterns of plant composition and abundance and can be identified by specific indicator species, the monumental form of Pacific crabapple often being a strong indicator. This research demonstrates the importance of considering regional distinctions in academic research and land management, provides guidance for identifying coastal forest gardens at a broad scale, and facilitates discussion on the intricacies of forest gardening as a land-use practice. While forest gardens are relatively new concepts in academic, policy and management circles, Indigenous communities have long been aware of and caring for these landscapes. Formal appreciation of these culturally specific and co-evolved landscapes has implications for social justice, and Indigenous self-determination and sovereignty.

Supplemental Material

sj-docx-1-ebi-10.1177_02780771261432970 - Supplemental material for Legacies of Ancient Forest Gardening Along the Pacific Northwest Coast Highlight Broad Spatial and Cultural Variability

Supplemental material, sj-docx-1-ebi-10.1177_02780771261432970 for Legacies of Ancient Forest Gardening Along the Pacific Northwest Coast Highlight Broad Spatial and Cultural Variability by Sara B Wickham, Chelsey Geralda Armstrong and Andrew J Trant in Journal of Ethnobiology

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

We gratefully acknowledge and thank the Nations whose lands with this research took place on: ƛohos giǰi (Klahoose), Homalco, Tla’amin, We Wai kai, We Wai Kum, K’ómoks, Haíłzaqv, and Wuikinuxv. We also thank Nancy Turner, Leslie Main Johnson, Claudette Charlie and Jennifer Walkus whose knowledge and support inspires our work. Thank you also to Jennifer Carpenter for valuable comments and support, and to six anonymous reviewers for their valuable comments. This research was supported by funding provided by the Hakai Institute (Tula Foundation), a NSERC-CGS D (Wickham), and an NSERC Discovery grant (Trant).

ORCID iDs

Sara B Wickham

Chelsey Geralda Armstrong

Andrew J Trant

Funding

The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research was supported by NSERC CGSD and Discovery grants as well as in-kind support from the Hakai Institute.

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Supplemental Material

Supplemental material for this article is available online.

References

Abrams

M. D.

Nowacki

G. J.

. 2008. “Native Americans as Active and Passive Promoters of Mast and Fruit Trees in the Eastern USA.” The Holocene 18: 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959683608095581 .

Ames

K. M

. 2005. “Intensification of Food Production on the Northwest Coast and Elsewhere.” In Keeping It Living: Traditions of Plant Use and Cultivation on the Northwest Coast of North America, edited by Deur

Turner

N. J.

, 67–100. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Armstrong

C. G.

2017. Historical Ecology of Cultural Landscapes in the Pacific Northwest. Vancouver, BC: Simon Fraser Univeristy.

Armstrong

C. G.

2022. Silm Da’axk (to Revive and Heal Again): Historical Ecology and Ethnobotany in Gitselasu Lahkhyuup. Vancouver, BC, Canada: Mitchell Press.

Armstrong

C. G.

Clemente-Carvalho

R. B. G.

Turner

N. J.

Wickham

Trant

Lemay

M. A.

. 2024. “Genetic Differentiation and Precolonial Indigenous Cultivation of Hazelnut (Corylus Cornuta, Betulaceae) in Western North America.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 121: e2402304121. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2402304121 .

Armstrong

C. G.

Earnshaw

McAlvay

A. C.

. 2022. “Coupled Archaeological and Ecological Analyses Reveal Ancient Cultivation and Land Use in Nuchatlaht (Nuu-Chah-Nulth) Territories.” Pacific Northwest. Journal of Archaeological Science 143: 105611. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jas.2022.105611 .

Armstrong

C. G.

Lyons

McAlvay

A. C.

Ritchie

P. M.

Lepofsky

Blake

. 2023. “Historical Ecology of Forest Garden Management in L a Xyuubm Ts’msyen and Beyond.” Ecosystems and People 19: 2160823. https://doi.org/10.1080/26395916.2022.2160823 .

Armstrong

C. G.

Miller

J. E. D.

Mcalvay

A. C.

Ritchie

P. M.

Lepofsky

. 2021. “Historical Indigenous Land-Use Explains Plant Functional Trait Diversity.” Ecology and Society 26: 6. https://doi.org/10.5751/ES-12322-260206.

Arno

S. F.

Hammerly

. 2007. Northwest Trees. 2nd Edition. Seattle, WA, USA: Mountineer Books.

10.

Augustine

Dearden

. 2014. “Changing Paradigms in Marine and Coastal Conservation: A Case Study of Clam Gardens in the Southern Gulf Islands, Canada.” Canadian Geographer 58: 305–314. https://doi.org/10.1111/cag.12084 .

11.

Balée

2013. Cultural Forests of the Amazon: A Historical Ecology of People and Their Landscapes. 1st Edition. Tuscaloosa, AL, USA: University of Alabama Press.

12.

Bednarik

R. G.

1998. “The Technology of Petroglyphs.” Rock Art Research 15: 23–35.

13.

Burton

C. M. A.

2012. Wilaat Hooxhl Nisg a ‘ Ahl [ Galdo o ‘ o ] [ Ýans ]: Gik ‘ Uuhl - Gi, Guuń -Sa Ganhl Angooga ḿ Using Plants the Nisg a ‘ a Way : Past, Present and Future Use. Doctoral dissertation. Victoria, BC: University of Victoria.

14.

Ceci

1984. “Shell Midden Deposits as Coastal Resources.” World Archaeology 16: 62–74. https://doi.org/10.1080/00438243.1984.9979916 .

15.

Clarke

K. R.

1993. “Non-Parametric Multivariate Analyses of Changes in Community Structure.” Australian Journal of Ecology 18: 117–143. https://doi.org/10.1071/WR9840181 .

16.

Compton

B. D.

1993. “Upper North Wakashan and Southern Tsimshian Ethnobotany: The Knowledge and Usage of Plants and Fungi Among the Oweekeno, Hanaksiala (Kitlope and Kemano), Haisla (Kitamaat) and Kitasoo Peoples of the Central and North Coasts of British Columbia.” Doctoral dissertation, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, BC.

17.

Cook-Patton

S. C.

Weller

Rick

T. C.

Parker

J. D.

. 2014. “Ancient Experiments: Forest Biodiversity and Soil Nutrients Enhanced by Native American Middens.” Landscape Ecology 29: 979–987. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10980-014-0033-z .

18.

Copp

S. A

. 2018. 2017 Archaeology Field School: Summary of Field Investigations. Vancouver, BC, Canada: Langara College.

19.

Coughlan

M. R.

Nelson

D. R.

. 2018. “Influences of Native American Land Use on the Colonial Euro-American Settlement of the South Carolina Piedmont.” PLOS ONE 13: e0195036. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0195036 .

20.

De Cáceres

Legendre

. 2009. “Associations Between Species and Groups of Sites: Indices and Statistical Inference.” Ecology 90: 3566–3574. https://doi.org/10.1890/08-1823.1.

21.

Deloria

Jr. Wildcat

. 2001. Power and Place: Indian Education in America. Golden, Colorado, USA: American Indian Graduate Center and Fulcrum Resources. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-95810-8_78 .

22.

Denevan

W. M

. 1992. “The Pristine Myth: The Landscape of the Americas in 1492.” Annals of the Association of American Geographers 82: 369–385. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-8306.1992.tb01965.x.

23.

Deur

2002. “Plant Cultivation on the Northwest Coast: A Reconsideration.” Journal of Cultural Geography 19: 9–35. https://doi.org/10.1080/08873630209478287 .

24.

Fairhead

Leach

. 1996. Misreading the African Landscape: Society and Ecology in a Forest-Savanna Mosaic. Cambridge, England, UK: Cambridge University Press.

25.

Fedje

Lausanne

McLaren

Mackie

Menounos

. 2021. “Slowstands, Stillstands and Transgressions: Paleoshorelines and Archaeology on Quadra Island, BC, Canada.” Quaternary Science Reviews 270: 107161. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2021.107161 .

26.

Feinman

G. M.

Nicholas

L. M.

. 2020. “Relict Plant Communities at Prehispanic Sites in Oaxaca, Mexico: Historical Implications.” Human Ecology 48: 539–555. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10745-020-00177-x .

27.

Fisher

J. A.

Shackelford

Hocking

M. D.

Trant

A. J.

Starzomski

B. M.

. 2019. “Indigenous Peoples’ Habitation History Drives Present-day Forest Biodiversity in British Columbia’s Coastal Temperate Rainforest.” People and Nature 1: 103–114. https://doi.org/10.1002/pan3.16 .

28.

Ford

Nigh

. 2015. The Maya Forest Garden: Eight Millennia of Sustainable Cultivation of the Tropical Woodlands. 1st Edition. Oxfordshire, England, UK: Routledge.

29.

Fretwell

Starzomski

B. M.

Brietzke

. 2013. Biodiversity of the Central Coast. Accessed July 13, 2023. www.centralcoastbiodiversity.org.

30.

Gammage

2012. The Biggest Estate on Earth. Crows Nest, NSW, Australia: Allen & Unwin.

31.

Gauvreau

Fedje

Dyck

Mackie

Hebda

C. F. G.

Holmes

White

Q. Y. E.

Housty

D. W.

Housty

ĜR

McLaren

. 2023. “Geo-Archaeology and Haíɫzaqv Oral History: Long-Term Human Investment and Resource Use at EkTb-9, Triquet Island, N̓úláw̓itx̌v Tribal Area, Central Coast, British Columbia, Canada.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 49: 103884. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2023.103884 .

32.

Grenz

Armstrong

C. G.

. 2023. “Pop-up Restoration in Colonial Contexts: Applying an Indigenous Food Systems Lens to Ecological Restoration.” Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems 7: 1244790. https://doi.org/10.3389/fsufs.2023.124479.

33.

Hrdlička

1937. “Man and Plants in Alaska.” Science (New York, N.Y.) 86: 559–560.

34.

Húy̓at. n.d. Accessed July 17, 2024. http://www.hauyat.ca/home.html.

35.

Johnson

E. A.

Gutsell

S. L.

. 1994. “Fire Frequency Models, Methods and Interpretations.” Advances in Ecological Research 25: 239–287. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0065-2504(08)60216-0.

36.

Joseph

Cuerrier

Mathews

. 2022. “Shifting Narratives, Recognizing Resilience: New Anti-Oppressive and Decolonial Approaches to Ethnobotanical Research with Indigenous Communities in Canada.” Botany 100: 65–81. https://doi.org/10.1139/cjb-2021-0111 .

37.

Joseph

Turner

N. J.

. 2020. “The Old Foods Are the New Foods!”: Erosion and Revitalization of Indigenous Food Systems in Northwestern North America.” Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems 4: 596237. https://doi.org/10.3389/fsufs.2020.596237 .

38.

Klinka

Krajina

V. J.

Ceska

Scagel

A. M.

. 2007. Indicator Plants of British Columbia. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

39.

Klinkenburg

2020a. Malus Fusca. Vancouver: Lab for Advanced Spatial Analysis, Department of Geography, University of British Columbia. eflora.ba.ca. Accessed May 7, 2020.

40.

Klinkenburg

2020b. Amelanchier Alnifolia. Vancouver: Lab for Advanced Spatial Analysis, Department of Geography, University of British Columbia. eflora.ba.ca. Accessed July 13, 2023.

41.

Kuhnlein

H. V.

Turner

N. J.

. 1991. Traditional Plant Foods of Canadian Indigenous Peoples: Nutrition, Botany, and Use. Food and Nutrition in History and Anthropology. London, UK: Gordon and Breach Science Publishers.

42.

Kurz

D. J.

Connor

Brodie

J. F.

Baking

E. L.

Szeto

S. H.

Hearn

A. J.

Gardner

P. C.

, O. R., et al. 2023. “Socio-Ecological Factors Shape the Distribution of a Cultural Keystone Species in Malaysian Borneo.” npj Biodiversity 2: 1–9. https://doi.org/10.1038/s44185-022-00008-w .

43.

Lepofsky

Armstrong

C. G.

Greening

Jackley

Carpenter

Guernsey

Mathews

Turner

N. J.

. 2017. “Historical Ecology of Cultural Keystone Places of the Northwest Coast.” American Anthropologist 119: 448–463. https://doi.org/10.1111/aman.12893 .

44.

Lepofsky

Lertzman

K. P.

. 2008. “Documenting Ancient Plant Management in the Northwest of North America.” Botany 86: 129–145. https://doi.org/10.1139/b07-094 .

45.

Lepofsky

Lyons

. 2013. “The Secret Past Life of Plants: Paleoethnobotany in British Columbia.” BC Studies: The British Columbian Quarterly 179: 39–83. https://doi.org/10.14288/bcs.v0i179.184108.

46.

Lepofsky

Smith

N. F.

Cardinal

Harper

Morris

White

G. E.

Bouchard

, D. I. D., et al. 2015. “Ancient Shellfish Mariculture on the Northwest Coast of North America.” American Antiquity 80: 236–259. https://doi.org/10.7183/0002-7316.80.2.236 .

47.

Lepofsky

Toniello

Earnshaw

Roberts

Wilson

Rowell

Holmes

. 2020. “Ancient Anthropogenic Clam Gardens of the Northwest Coast Expand Clam Habitat.” Ecosystems 24: 248–260. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10021-020-00515-6.

48.

Levis

Costa

F. R. C.

Neves

E. G.

Tamanaha

E. K.

Figueiredo

F. O. G.

Salomão

R. P.

Castilho

C. V.

, et al. 2017. “Persistent Effects of Pre-Columbian Plant Domestication on Amazonian Forest Composition.” Science 355: 925–931. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.aal196.

49.

Lincoln

Ladefoged

. 2014. “Agroecology of Pre-Contact Hawaiian Dryland Farming: The Spatial Extent, Yield and Social Impact of Hawaiian Breadfruit Groves in Kona, Hawai’i.” Journal of Archaeological Science 49: 192–202. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jas.2014.05.008 .

50.

Lloyd

T. A.

2011. “Cultivating the Tekkillakw, the Ethnoecology of Tleksem, Pacific Silverweed or Cinquefoil (Argentina Egedii (Wormsk.) Rydb.; Rosaceae): Lessons from Kwaxsistalla, Clan Chief Adam Dick, of the Qawadiliqella Clan of the Dzawadaenuxw of Kingcome Inlet (Kwakwaka’wakw).” Master’s thesis, University of Victoria, Victoria, BC.

51.

Lyons

Hoffmann

Miller

Martindale

Ames

K. M.

Blake

. 2021. “Were the Ancient Coast Salish Farmers? A Story of Origins.” American Antiquity 86: 504–525. https://doi.org/10.1017/aaq.2020.115 .

52.

Lyons

Ritchie

Armstrong

C. G.

Lepofsky

. 2016. “A Gift from the Ancestors: The Legacy of Red Elderberry Use in a Tsleil-Waututh Plant Processing Area.” The Midden 46: 7–14.

53.

Maurice-Hammond

McAlvay

Mathews

Bosman

Morris

. 2023. “A Lək̓^wəŋən Estuarine Root Garden: The Case of Tl’chés.” Economic Botany 77: 410–432. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12231-023-09592-9 .

54.

McCune

J. L.

Pellatt

M. G.

Vellend

. 2013. “Multidisciplinary Synthesis of Long-Term Human-Ecosystem Interactions: A Perspective from the Garry Oak Ecosystem of British Columbia.” Biological Conservation 166: 293–300. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2013.08.004 .

55.

McDonald

2005. “Cultivating in the Northwest: Early Accounts of Tsimshian Horticulture.” In Keeping It Living: Traditions of Plant Use and Cultivation on the Northwest Coast of North America, edited by Deur

D. E.

Turner

N. J.

, 240–273. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press.

56.

McDonald

J. A

. 2003. “The Tsimshian Landscape, Land Use, Resource Management.” In People of the Robin: The Tsimshian of Kitsumkalum, 50–65. Terrace, BC, Canada and Edmonton, AB, Canada: First Nations Education Centre, Coast Mountain School District & Alberta ACADRE Network.

57.

McLaren

Fedje

Dyck

Mackie

Gauvreau

Cohen

. 2018. “Terminal Pleistocene Epoch Human Footprints from the Pacific Coast of Canada.” PloS one 13: e0193522. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0193522 .

58.

McLaren

Rahemtulla

White

G. E.

Fedje

D. W.

. 2015. “Prerogatives, Sea Level, and the Strength of Persistent Places: Archaeological Evidence for Long- Term Occupation of the Central Coast of British Columbia.” BC Studies: The British Columbian Quarterly 187: 155–191. https://doi.org/10.14288/bcs.v0i187.186161.

59.

Meidinger

D. V.

Pojar

. 1991. Ecosystems of British Columbia. BC Ministry of Forests, 330. Victoria, BC: British Columbia Ministry of Forests.

60.

Mollison

1998. Permaculture; A Designer’s Manual. Tyalgum, New South Wales, Australia: Tagari Publications.

61.

Morin

Royle

T. C. A.

Zhang

Speller

Alcaide

Morin

Ritchie

, A., et al. 2021. “Indigenous Sex-Selective Salmon Harvesting Demonstrates Pre-Contact Marine Resource Management in Burrard Inlet, British Columbia, Canada.” Scientific Reports 11: 21160. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-021-00154-4 .

62.

Moss

M. L.

Erlandson

J. M.

Stuckenrath

. 1990. “Wood Stake Weirs and Salmon Fishing on the Northwest Coast: Evidence from Southeast Alaska.” Canadian Journal of Archaeology / Journal Canadien D’Archéologie 14: 143–158. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41102453.

63.

Nabhan

G. P.

2014. “Food Security, Biodiversity and Human Health: Ethnobiology as a Predictive Science.” Journal of Ethnobiology 34: 7–11. https://doi.org/10.2993/0278-0771-34.1.7 .

64.

Nogué

Tovar

Bhagwat

S. A.

Finsinger

Willis

K. J.

. 2018. “Exploring the Ecological History of a Tropical Agroforestry Landscape Using Fossil Pollen and Charcoal Analysis from Four Sites in Western Ghats, India.” Ecosystems 21: 45–55. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10021-017-0132-1 .

65.

Odonne

van den Bel

Burst

Brunaux

Bruno

Dambrine

Davy

, M., et al. 2019. “Long-Term Influence of Early Human Occupations on Current Forests of the Guiana Shield.” Ecology 100: e02806. https://doi.org/10.1002/ecy.2806 .

66.

Oksanen

Blanchet

F. G.

Friendly

Kindt

McGlinn

Minchin

P. R.

O’Hara

R. B.

, G. L., et al. 2017. Vegan: Community Ecology Package.

67.

Perera

A. H.

Rajapakse

R. N.

. 1991. “A Baseline Study of Kandyan Forest Gardens of Sri Lanka: Structure, Composition and Utilization.” Forest Ecology and Management 45: 269–280. https://doi.org/10.1016/0378-1127(91)90222-H.

68.

Pojar

MacKinnon

. 2004. Plants of Coastal British Columbia; Including Washington, Oregon & Alaska. Vancouver, BC: Lone Pine Publishing.

69.

Rackham

2015. Woodlands. New York, NY, USA: HarperCollins Publishers.

70.

R Core Team. 2022. R: A Language and Environment for Statistical Computing. Vienna, Austria: R Foundation for Statistical Computing.

71.

Remote Access to Archaeological Data (RAAD), Archaeology Branch, Province of British Columbia. 2023, January 17.

72.

Rick

T. C.

2024. “Shell Midden Archaeology: Current Trends and Future Directions.” Journal of Archaeological Research 32: 309–366. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10814-023-09189-9 .

73.

Rick

T. C.

Braje

T. J.

Graham

Easterday

Hofman

C. A.

Holguin

B. E.

Mychajliw

A. M.

Reeder-Myers

L. A.

Reynolds

M. D.

. 2022. “Cultural Keystone Places and the Chumash Landscapes of Kumqaq’, Point Conception, California.” American Antiquity 87: 487–504. https://doi.org/10.1017/aaq.2021.154 .

74.

Robin

2019. “Our Hands at Work: Indigenous Food Sovereignty in Western Canada.” Journal of Agriculture, Food Systems, and Community Development 9 (2): 1–15. https://doi.org/10.5304/jafscd.2019.09B.007.

75.

Schang

Cox

Trant

A. J.

. 2022. “Habitation Sites Influence Tree Community Assemblages in the Great Bear Rainforest, British Columbia, Canada.” Frontiers in Ecology and Evolution 9: 791047. https://doi.org/10.3389/fevo.2021.791047.

76.

Schwarcz

Knyf

Cybulski

J. S.

. 2023. “Plant Foods: Important Nutrients for the People of Prehistoric Prince Rupert Harbour.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 48: 103836. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jasrep.2023.103836 .

77.

Simpson

L. B.

2014. “Land as Pedagogy: Nishnaabeg Intelligence and Rebellious Transformation.” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 3: 1–25. https://jps.library.utoronto.ca/index.php/des/article/view/22170.

78.

Sowerwine

Mucioki

Sarna-Wojcicki

McCovey

Morehead-Hillman

Hillman

Lake

F. K.

Preston

Bourque

. 2023. “Enhancing Indigenous Food Sovereignty and Community Health Through the Karuk Agroecosystem Resilience Initiative: We Are Caring for It: Xúus Nu’éethti.” Health Promotion Practice 24: 1096–1100. https://doi.org/10.1177/15248399231190368 .

79.

Stewart

1977. Indian Fishing: Early Methods on the Northwest Coast. Vancouver, BC: Douglas & McIntyre.

80.

Stryd

A,H

. 2001. Culturally Modified Trees of British Columbia: A Handbook for the Identification and Recording of Culturally Modified Trees. Victoria, BC: British Columbia Archaeology Branch.

81.

Toniello

Lepofsky

Lertzman-Lepofsky

Salomon

A. K.

Rowell

. 2019. “11,500 y of Human-Clam Relationships Provide Long-Term Context for Intertidal Management in the Salish Sea, British Columbia.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 116 (44): 22109. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1905921116.

82.

Trant

A. J.

Nijland

Hoffman

K. M.

Mathews

D. L.

McLaren

Nelson

T. A.

Starzomski

B. M.

. 2016. “Intertidal Resource Use Over Millennia Enhances Forest Productivity.” Nature Communications 7: 12491. https://doi.org/10.1038/ncomms12491 .

83.

Tulowiecki

S. J.

Ranney

E. R.

Keenan

E. M.

Neubert

G. M.

Hogan

M. L.

. 2022. “Localized Native American Impacts on Past Forest Composition Across a Regional Extent in North-Eastern United States.” Journal of Biogeography 49: 1099–1109. https://doi.org/10.1111/jbi.14369 .

84.

Turner

N. J.

1973a. “Plant Taxonomic Systems and Ethnobotany of Three Contemporary Indian Groups of the Pacific Northwest (Haida, Bella Coola, and Lillooet).” Doctoral dissertation, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, BC, Canada.

85.

Turner

N. J.

1973b. “The Ethnobotany of the Bella Coola Indians of British Columbia.” Syesis 6: 193–220.

86.

Turner

N. J.

1995. Food Plants of Coastal First Peoples. Vancouver, BC, Canada: UBC Press.

87.

Turner

N. J.

1999. “Time to Burn” Traditional Use of Fire to Enhance Resource Production by Aboriginal Peoples in British Columbia.” In Indians, Fire, and the Land in the Pacific Northwest, edited by Boyd

, 185–218. Corvallis, OR, USA: Oregon State University Press.

88.

Turner

N. J.

2014a. Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: Ethnobotany and Ecological Wisdom of Indigenous Peoples of Northwestern North America. Montreal & Kingston, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

89.

Turner

N. J.

2014b. “Plants as Food: Development, Diversity, Dissemination.” In Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: Ethnobotany and Ecological Wisdom of Indigenous Peoples of Northwestern North America, 1, 261–334. Montreal & Kingston, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

90.

Turner

N. J.

2014c. “Narratives in Transmission of Ethnobotanical Knowledge.” In Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: Ethnobotany and Ecological Wisdom of Indigenous Peoples of Northwestern North America, 231–296. Montreal & Kingston, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

91.

Turner

N. J.

2014d. “Herbal Medicine and Healing Traditions.” In Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: Ethnobotany and Ecological Wisdom of Indigenous Peoples of Northwestern North America, 425–466. Montreal & Kingston, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

92.

Turner

N. J.

2014e. “Plant Use in Technology Over Time and Space.” In Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: Ethnobotany and Ecological Wisdom of Indigenous Peoples of Northwestern North America, 1, 335–414. Montreal & Kingston, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

93.

Turner

N. J.

Bell

M. A.

. 1973. “The Ethnobotany of the Southern Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia.” Economic Botany 27: 257–310. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02907532.

94.

Turner

N. J.

Deur

D. E.

Lepofsky

. 2013. “Plant Management Systems of British Columbia First Peoples.” BC Studies 179: 107.

95.

Turner

N. J.

Turner

K. L.

. 2008. “Where Our Women Used to Get the Food”: Cumulative Effects and Loss of Ethnobotanical Knowledge and Practice; Case Study from Coastal British Columbia.” Botany 86: 103–115. https://doi.org/10.1139/b07-020 .

96.

Vanier

2022. “Entangled Legacies: The Historical Ecology of a Sts’ailes First Nation Forest Garden, SW British Columbia.” Master’s thesis, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, BC, Canada.

97.

Wallace

E. J.

2019, April 1. The Moroccan Food Forest That Inspired an Agricultural Revolution. Atlas Obscura.

98.

Wehi

P. M.

Lord

J. M.

. 2017. “Importance of Including Cultural Practices in Ecological Restoration.” Conservation Biology 31: 1109–1118. https://doi.org/10.1111/cobi.12915 .

99.

White

X. E.

2003. “Heiltsuk Stone Fishtraps: Products of My Ancestors’ Labour.” Master’s thesis, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, BC, Canada.

100.

Wickham

. 2016. Ggplot2: Elegant Graphics for Data Analysis. New York, NY, USA: Springer-Verlag.

101.

Wickham

S. B.

Augustine

Forney

Mathews

D. L.

Shackelford

Walkus

Trant

A. J.

. 2022. “Incorporating Place-Based Values into Ecological Restoration.” Ecology and Society 27: 32. https://doi.org/10.5751/ES-13370-270332.

102.

Wyllie de Echeverria

2013. “Moolks (Pacific Crabapple, Malus Fusca) on the North Coast of British Columbia: Knowledge and Meaning in Gitga’at Culture.” Master’s thesis, University of Victoria, Victoria, BC, Canada.