Rocher River hurdles
Recognition of a new aboriginal band is a complex issue

by Derek Neary
Northern News Services

NNSL (Mar 09/98) - When Chief Snuff signed Treaty 8 on July 25, 1900, the Ts'o T'ine were the largest of the four aboriginal signatories.

Today the Ts'o T'ine no longer officially exist.

Doris McQueen, Angela James and many others are making inquiries and acquiring documents in an attempt to restore recognition of a once united people.

The Ts'o T'ine were nomadic and occupied land throughout the East Arm of Great Slave Lake until 1960.

According to James, when the settlement's school burned down 38 years ago, the Indian agent at the scene threatened to withhold family allowances from those who refused to relocate. He also promised better housing in Fort Resolution.

McQueen, a former resident, and James, her daughter-in-law, consider the fire suspicious because the government wanted to build a dam along the Taltson River over objections from the people of Rocher River.

McQueen was 19 at the time. Annie Beaulieu, another former inhabitant, was 25. They remember how difficult it was to leave their home. Their husbands were trappers and knew the land intimately. But their children needed to receive an education in the changing world.

Many of the band did leave for Fort Resolution. Some chose to live in Yellowknife, others elsewhere.

Previous to her marriage, McQueen was a member of the Yellowknife A band, as the government. After losing her treaty status because she married a non-native, she fought successfully to regain her status five years ago. But she was registered as a member of the Lutselk'e band, a place she had never visited, let alone inhabited.

"My band doesn't recognize me either. They don't even know I belong to that band," McQueen explained. The lack of representation "bothers me a lot," she said.

Other Ts'o T'ine moved to Ndilo, where they lived among members of the Dogrib community. The government designated them, collectively, the Yellowknife B band. They retain the name Yellowknives today.

James noted, "Somewhere along the line, the Yellowknife A band disappeared. They were scattered, so as a people, they had no voice."

McQueen and James met with a treaty land entitlement officer and other Indian Affairs officials in 1995. One of them insisted McQueen was born in Lutselk'e, which infuriated her.

The federal representatives promised to conduct some research. A year later McQueen and James received a paper from a graduate student at the University of Alberta who never contacted a single member of the Ts'o T'ine for her report.

A presentation of Agnes Villebrun's report was presented to the Dene Nation Treaty 8 Assembly in 1995 and again last year. Each time, it was rebuffed.

As a next step, McQueen and James met with an MLA. They were told the band wouldn't want to "slice up its pie" by allowing them to leave. It turns out the band must give up a portion of its funding for each person who leaves.

They are now hoping to find a lawyer who will help to take up their cause.

"If the Ts'o T'ine ever gain recognition ... it's not going to be your traditional band living in one place with a representative because (the government) scattered them," James said.

"It's going to be a really unique band and a huge challenge. This is a small step compared to if recognition is gained."