Blackflies hung around her in the damp air, as branches tore at her clothes.
The mosquitoes engorging themselves on her blood were mere annoyances as she navigated through the northern bush,
She was only focused on one thing.
Her prospecting claim.
Every step she took demanded care.
One wrong foot and she could be injured and without help.
So far, she had managed alone.
She didn’t want to be limited because of her sex.
And most white men wanted her to act a certain way.
She had no time for that, plus they would often slow her down.
Her skill out here was unmatched, and she had made it this far on dogsled, canoe and now on foot.
But her mark on history wouldn’t be carved out of gold.
Instead, this young Indigenous woman walking deeper into the wilderness than society believed she would make her mark because of her passion for the environment.
And she did it decades before anyone spoke publicly about animal rights with any seriousness or urgency.
I’m Craig Baird and this is Canadian History Ehx!
During National Indigenous History Month, I am sharing stories of men and women who left their mark and today I bring you the life of the woman whose courage changed the conscience of a nation.
This is the story of…Anahareo!
Anahareo was an Algonquin and a Mohawk.
She was raised between two worlds, Indigenous heritage and settler Canada, wilderness and town life, tradition and modernity.
But to really understand her we have to go back to the early 1800s to learn about her grandmother Marie Catherine Papineau.
As a toddler she survived an attack by soldiers on her village south just of Montreal.
Her family was killed, and she was taken away from the only life she knew.
From then on Catherine grew up within a convent but hated the restraints.
So, when she came of age, she immediately left.
She returned to the Mohawk community near Montreal.
By then the highly intelligent Catherine spoke six different Indigenous languages, and had a vast understanding of crafts, herbs, and medicine.
She lived with her husband John Bernard, and together they had a successful farm where they raised 11 children.
But that life would be uprooted by the government when they took the land away from them to give it to white, settlers.
When that happened, they moved up north near Mattawa, Ontario, where their son Matthew Bernard had married Mary Nash Ockiping.
That couple had six children between 1892 and 1910 including Gertrude Philomen Bernard, who was born on June 18, 1906.
She would become known as Anahareo, but I’ll get to that.
For now, little Gertie was known as Pony by her dad because of her boundless energy.
Gertie was only 5 years old when in 1944 her mother became ill.
She had tuberculosis.
Today it kills about 100 Canadians a year. That is about the same as the number of people who die shoveling snow each year.
When Gertie’s mom had it, about a century ago, it was a different story.
Tuberculosis claimed 10,000 to 14,000 lives annually and was the leading cause of death in Canada.
Gertie’s mom was one of those lost to infectious, airborne bacterial disease.
The death shattered the family.
Her father, Matthew, had to travel to work and that made raising his children difficult, so the siblings were sent to different relatives, and Gertie was placed with her grandmother Catherine Bernard whom she adored.
The feeling was mutual because Big Grandma loved her too. For the next six years, Gertie was taught about Mohawk culture, customs, and history.
But that wasn’t all she learned from the beloved family matriarch.
Gertie also became strong-willed and free-spirited. She wanted to carve her own path and refused to be boxed in by society, even at an early age.
But her happiness would be once again in peril when she was 11 and her grandmother became too frail to care for her.
Young Gertie was sent to her aunt who wanted her niece to follow rules and go to Church.
Gertie rebelled.
Instead of going to school, she raided neighbourhood gardens, or went camping and canoeing with her friends. Most of which were boys.
As tensions boiled over her father returned and Gertie went to live with him and her siblings who were now strangers to her.
She turned inwards and became quiet.
The boys she once hung out with were more interested in girls than camping, so Gertie turned to the one thing that always gave her solace.
Nature.
She was most at home among the trees. Growing up, she had heard stories of prospecting, hunting, and surviving in the wild.
And now she couldn’t get the idea out of her head. By 1925 the 19-year-old had convinced her father to allow her to spend three weeks along Lake Temagami located 80 kilometres north of North Bay.
It stretches for 47 kilometres and has 1,259 islands dotting its waters.
For decades it has been a popular place for people looking to escape the hustle and bustle of southern Ontario and Gerties had convinced her father to let her go so she could work as a waitress at Camp Wabikon.
Little did she know as she made her way north that the trip would change her life and Canada’s history forever.
As Gertie arrived at Lake Temagami the scars of the First World War remained with many.
The world seemed to move faster and to get away people would go to lodges and canoe camps along the lakeshore.
If you wanted some time on the water, the steamboat Belle of Temagami could give you a scenic trip.
That’s what Gertie had arrived at.
She was supposed to only stay for three weeks but she had fallen in love with the area at first sight, so she quickly convinced the Camp Wobikon’s secretary to keep her on for the entire summer.
As the end of the season neared, she sat under a tree reading a book when she heard someone stepping out of their canoe and onto the rocky shore.
She looked up as the man immediately caught her attention.
He was tall, wearing a chestnut brown shirt and trousers, with a Hudson’s Bay Company belt wrapped around his waist.
His buckskin vest was heavily worn, as were the moccasins on his feet.
She quickly forgot about the book on her lap as she watched him walk up to the camp office.
Later, she described him as a mad, dashing character. Someone like Jesse James who she saw as the Robin Hood of America.
She sat frozen in place waiting for another sight of him and watched as he walked back to his canoe.
As he set off from the shore Gertie ran up to the office to find out who he was.
She was told his name was Archie Belaney, but you might know him as…Grey Owl.
His story is long and interesting one, and I shared it back in 2024. I highly encourage you to listen to that episode to learn how an English man fooled the world into thinking he was Indigenous while sparking a conservation movement that helped save the beaver. For now, he was just a man who went by the name Archie, but he already claimed to be the son of a Scottish man and Apache woman.
That’s how he explained away his blue eyes.
And now one doubted him.
Not even the young Mohawk woman who had been captivated by him as he stepped out of his canoe.
By now she had found out his name and that he was camping a short distance away
Without much thought she set out through the woods to find him.
When she did the first words she heard were
“Say, do you happen to have a bag of potatoes?”
She was immediately confused by his odd question and in the process the spell he had on her was broken.
No longer would she see him as Godlike.
And that’s just how Archie had wanted it. He was keen on breaking the ice and over the next few days the two spent a lot of time together. She was excited about her new friend but her time at Lake Temagami was coming to an end, and she was preparing to go back to her family.
That’s when fate stepped in.
Dr. Howard out of New York approached her to offer her the chance to further her education.
He saw that she was highly intelligent, and he wanted to pay her tuition to any school, college, or convent of her choosing.
When she contacted her father, his only request was that it be a Canadian institution.
She chose the Loretto Abbey.
The all-girls Catholic school had been founded in 1847 and was operated by the Irish Sisters of Loreto.
It still exists today as the Loretto Abbey Catholic Secondary School and is ranked as one of the top schools in Canada.
But back in 1925 it would be Gertie’s school.
And as she prepared, her time with this “Jesse James of the North” ended.
But not for long…
As he returned to his trapline in the north, Archie sent her t a letter every day.
Oh, I’m sorry did I say letters?
I meant books because for the first two weeks they were apart he sent her tomes that were at least 90 pages.
Front and back!
But then… the letters suddenly stopped.
Gertie looked for them daily, but none came.
Instead, she got a letter from Loretto Abbey, saying she had to wait until the beginning of the next term, to enrol.
That meant she had months of waiting ahead of her and with that extra time she wrote to Archie.
Eventually he wrote back but it wasn’t a 90-page letter, she had become used to.
Instead, it was a one sentence telegram that said.
“Please come up for a day or more. Reply Yes.”
And along with it was a train ticket.
Her heart was racing as she asked her father’s permission.
He was reluctant to have his 19-year-old daughter go off with a 37-year-old man but in the end he agreed.
He told her to be careful as she boarded the train headed to Forsythe in Northern Quebec in February 1926 to meet Archie.
She arrived full of excitement, grabbed her things and leapt off the train at the station.
Although calling it a station is a bit of an exaggeration.
Truth is, there was no station. Just snow piled up and cleared on a platform.
Around her were only five homes, and only one had its lights on.
Worst of all…. Archie was nowhere to be seen.
As the train departed, Gertie was left all alone in the middle of nowhere.
The distant sound of a howl punctuated the deafening silence.
She was an adventurous and capable woman, but anyone would be apprehensive about this situation.
As the last train car went past her, her stomach sank further.
But that’s when she heard Archie yell to her.
He had arrived!
But there was no orchestra playing as they ran to each other’s arms in slow motion.
That’s because she did not jump into his arms.
Instead, Archie walked up to her and shook her hand.
Gertie was shocked by the formal greeting.
She feared that the love blossoming inside her was one-sided.
Gertie’s trip was supposed to last a day or two, but when Archie asked her to go to his trapping grounds and stay for a week.
She jumped at the offer and asked how far they had to go.
He said, “not far.”
Except that meant trekking64 kilometres through the snow-covered wilderness.
Archie was at home in the bush and travelled constantly, so for him it was a minor journey. Like a trip to the corner store shall we say.
For Gertie it wasn’t exactly that easy, quote.
“After five hours of snowshoeing, I was all but crawling on my eyebrows. I was exhausted, but there was nary a word, let alone of sympathy, from my traveling companion. Traveling companion? By this time, I was thinking of Archie in less than flattering terms.”
After about 16 hours of travel, the moon high was above them as Archie and Gertie finally came to what he called the Sunset Lodge.
. It was a tent, surrounded by snow.
Gertie was exhausted, after such a long journey on foot, so it also looked like a palace to her and as soon as she entered the tent, she fell asleep.
When she finally woke up Archie had a surprise for her.
He took her a short distance away to show her a beautiful log cabin he had built.
Above the door, in canoe pitch, were the words Pony Hall (in reference to her dad’s childhood nickname).
Inside, she found hand-built log furniture, a moose hide rug, and a roaring fire in the stove. The bed was covered in a Hudson’s Bay blanket.
She said,
“It was the ultimate in charm…and I loved it.”
For the next week, while Archie checked his trap lines, Gertie explored and despite the cold she felt she had found a home.
The sounds of birds, the passing wildlife, the clean air, it was everything she could have hoped for.
The two days turned into a week, then turned into another week, then another… and time began to blend until months had gone by.
Before she knew it, she had fallen into a domestic life in the middle of the Quebec wilderness.
And in the process became Anahareo
Archie Belaney gave himself the name of Grey Owl.
He also renamed the woman he loved.
But there are a few theories on how Gertrude became Anahareo.
The first is that the name is a reference to her great-great-grandfather Chief Naharrenhou.
The second is that it came from her grandfather John Anenharison Nelson.
The third theory is that Archie modified the name Paharomen Nahareo, meaning Flaming Leaf, to Anahareo.
Whatever the origin, Gertie embraced the new name and used it for the rest of her life.
In her book, Devil in Deerskins: My Life with Grey Owl, which was a huge help in my research, was not authored by Gertrude Bernard, but Anahareo.
Meanwhile, months had gone by and in the spring of 1926, Anahareo finally received overdue mail.
It was all from her father.
She had been planning a return home to see him, but when she saw the letters, she quickly changed her mind.
He was livid and wrote in one letter quote.
“I have great faith in you, but you aren’t home yet, and it is very nearly too late. I guess it is too late, except with me. You’ll always be welcome where I am concerned, but I warn you that if you are not married to that man…” end quote.
She shared the letters with Archie and when he read them, he replied that only two things could happen.
Either she went home, or they got married. Archie, however, conveniently left out the fact that he was still technically married to his first wife.
She was an Ojibwe woman named Angele Egwuna.
Anahareo didn’t know this, but she was still angry.
How dare he give her an ultimatum?
How dare her father demand she go home?
She was sick of not being a mistress of her own destiny, so she did neither.
Fuming with rage, Anahareo walked away from Archie and towards the church.
It was Easter, and after she gave her confession, the priest asked her if she had anything else to confess.
She said no.
He then told her that she had to confess her sin of living with an unmarried man in the wilderness.
But she didn’t believe it was a sin, so Anahareo promptly replied that he could take his absolution and, well, shove it.
She stormed out of the church as the priest screamed at her.
Anahareo had dreams of opening a dance hall in the mining town but since she didn’t have the money to do it and she didn’t want to go home to her father she went back to Pony Hall where she had freedom there to do as she pleased, when Archie was away on his traplines.
There, she fell into a quiet routine once more, and things between her and Archie improved.
However, deep down she felt guilty about disappointing her father.
She might’ve been a strong-willed woman, but she wasn’t free from society’s pressures.
And at times that guilt turned into anger, like the time the couple went to a party at the nearby town of Doucet.
Anahareo had a bit too much fun and ended up indulging in a few too many drinks.
Archie took her to her room to sleep it off, when she woke up the next day, she had a bit of hangiexty.
It was a mixture of shame for over drinking and anxiety over their overall unmarried living situation, so she immediately packed her bags and got ready to go.
She wanted to get away from Archie, her father, and whatever guilt she felt internally.
She told Archie she was leaving, and he once again insisted that she either marry him or go back to her father.
Anahareo replied she wasn’t interested in either option, then took it a step further and said she didn’t love him.
She didn’t mean it, but her shame had caused her to lash out.
Archie was deeply hurt so he took her hand and told her she was going home on the night train.
Anahareo promptly grabbed his hunting knife and stabbed him in the arm.
When she saw what she did, she ran off but Archie caught up with her and calmed her down.
He said everything would be all right and led her back to her room.
She soon realized that she was in over her head.
Torn between two worlds, she didn’t know which way to go.
She wanted to be independent, but she also loved Archie.
She cared for her father but wanted to choose her own path.
In the end she chose Archie because that’s what her heart really wanted.
She was going against society, but she was happy and time her heart settled and the guilt subsided.
That’s when she noticed that something else had been nagging at her and had been for a while.
Archie’s work as a trapper.
It kept them fed, and ensured they had money for supplies, but Anahareo was repulsed by the idea of trapping.
She found it inhumane.
During a trip she saw a marten that had spent days trying to free itself from a trap only for Archie to kill it with an ax handle hit to the head.
She wrote,
“The fact that I hated to kill and my ever-present remorse over this now will never right the wrong. I can still hear the screams of the suffering animals — the mink, marten, fisher, lynx. I still see the poisoned foxes and wolves lying on the frozen lakes, and the drowned beaver and otter at the bottom of the lakes and streams.”
In the spring of 1928, she joined Archie on one of his trips despite finding the whole repulsive.
She wanted to be around him, and this was often the only way to do it.
When they came upon a beaver dam, they discovered that the mother had been caught in a trap, but she had cut the anchor line and had been pulled to the bottom of the lake with it where she died.
She had left behind two beaver kits.
Anahareo picked them up and brought them home.
She told Archie that she wanted to keep them as pets.
He wanted to sell them for a particularly good price.
For weeks they argued about it.
The little beavers grew up and made themselves at home in the cabin under Anahareo care.
One night, Archie got into bed and as soon as he did, one of the beavers went up and sat next to him.
Then it began to comb itself, Archie watched as it then climbed to his face, sniffed it then nibbled at his eyebrows, before settling onto his chest to sleep.
Archie said only three words, say.
“I’ll be darned.”
Over the next few weeks, Archie was stressed and distant.
Anahareo thought it was something to do with her, but in reality, Archie was in a deep internal struggle.
He simply couldn’t trap animals anymore.
The interaction with the beaver had changed something in him and he eventually told Anahareo that he was off the beaver hunt for good.
He wrote years later in “Pilgrims of the Wild.”
“I am now the President, Treasurer and sole member of the Society of the Beaver People.”
In the Autumn of 1928, Archie and Anahareo moved to Touladi Country located between Quebec and New Brunswick where they lived off Archie’s pension cheques from his war service.
In their new cabin, he talked with Anahareo about his life and living off the land in Canada while with their beavers now named Mac and Mac ran around their feet.
One day she suggested he write down his stories to preserve them. He was apprehensive at first, but then he sat down one day and easily wrote 30 pages.
Anahareo eventually convinced him to send one of his stories to Country Life magazine. To their surprise, the magazine accepted the story and then asked for more.
Meanwhile, the couple built a beaver colony on a lake near their home create a refuge in the area.
The couple was shocked and saddened when one of their friends Dave White Stone, Archie a beaver pelt as a gift.
He thought it was a good gift, he wanted to do something nice, but he had no idea how Archie and Anahareo felt about beavers.
She wrote,
“Dave killed all the beaver on the lake, believing he was doing us a good turn. His deed, instead, had destroyed the very groundwork of our plans.”
The couple moved 40 kilometres away and built a new cabin for themselves and their beavers.
Mac and Mac explored the nearby lake and attempted to coax Anahareo and Archie to come with them, but they were too busy with chores.
Anahareo regretted that decision for the rest of her life.
She wrote,
“That was the last time we were to see them.”
For days the couple searched for their beaver with no luck.
It soon became apparent to them that they had been killed.
When their friend Dave heard about the loss and how awful they felt, he felt guilty and decided at that moment to make it up to them.
When he found two orphaned beaver kits he brought them to Anahareo and Archie.
The couple was overjoyed to have new beavers in their lives, named them Sugar Loaf and Jelly Roll.
Their home felt more complete and things were looking up once more.
Archie’s writing was gaining notoriety and one day he was asked to speak in a nearby town about his life and experiences.
That led to more speaking engagements throughout Eastern Canada and soon he was in high demand.
In the summer of 1930, the federal government commissioned a film, The Beaver People, which featured Archie, Anahareo and their beavers.
That’s when Archie started to publicly go by Grey Owl.
While Archie was away Anahareo looked for ways to keep busy.
She even travelled north with David White Stone to help him on his mining claim and quickly discovered she had a love of prospecting.
That newfound passion would do her well over the next decade because soon the couple would be traveling West.
The government had offered Archie a position as a park caretaker at Riding Mountain National Park in Manitoba.
And by the spring of 1931, the couple, along with Sugar Loaf and Jelly Roll were on their way.
Almost as soon as they arrived at their new cabin a second film, The Beaver Family, was shot.
Unfortunately, the land wasn’t optimal for the beavers and Archie asked for a transfer.
The couple moved to Prince Albert National Park in Saskatchewan, where the habitat was better for beavers.
But Archie wasn’t around much and the couple grew distant.
He was often away on speaking engagements across North America, or he was busy writing books.
So Anahareo was left alone.
She often ventured into the wilderness as she turned to prospecting and the couple rarely saw each other. Especially after she heard there was unclaimed land in Labrador.
She made the long journey there only to find out that two men had seen that same outcropping while flying over the area.
Anahareo had missed staking a claim by a mere 28 days and was devastated when she learned that the claim was sold for $70,000, or $1.5 million today.
She returned home where she finally reconnected with Archie.
The couple got pregnant by late 1931 but that didn’t mean they were close.
Archie spent the whole winter completely preoccupied by his writing and slowly drove Anahareo crazy.
She said that all she could hear was the scratch of his pen.
That led to more arguments, including over whether Archie should take a bath.
He hated baths.
Somehow the couple survived, and it helped that Archie was once again traveling.
In fact, he was away so much that he missed the birth of their daughter.
Shirley Dawn was born on Aug. 23, 1932. Archie arrived three days later but spent most of his time talking about his journey rather than showing interest in his daughter.
He also referred to the baby as “it” which deeply hurt Anahareo.
The sting caused her to pull away a bit, but he barely noticed and by the summer of 1933 she was feeling the itch to explore.
She left Shirley Dawn in the care of a trusted friend to prospect in the Churchill River area in Labrador.
She was gone for the entire summer.
A year later, she left for Wolloston Lake in the Barren Lands of the Canadian North.
For that she was gone for an entire year.
Her long absences began to anger Archie who wrote to her saying “Your coming and going as you see fit puts me in an awkward position. I know exactly what they are thinking of me. I used to think the same of John. His wife was an actress who spent most of her time in New York…Anyway, we used to think that John was a sucker.”
Deeply hurt by his letter, especially considering how distant both physically and emotionally they had become Anahareo vowed not to return until he asked her to.
That didn’t happen until August 1935 when he informed her that he was going on a speaking tour of England and asked her to come home.
Upon her return to Prince Albert National Park, she spent three weeks sewing an Indigenous outfit for him out of five moose-hides and two pounds of beads.
Then he left and returned in April 1936.
By now they were essentially strangers.
They had spent too much time apart living different lives.
Gone were the days of just the two of them in the bush together.
Now Archie belonged to the world, and Anahareo wanted a new life for herself and her daughter.
The couple agreed to separate briefly, and Archie gave Anahareo a$50 a month allowance.
By September 1936, the separation became permanent.
Archie remarried a few months later, but many believed that his soulmate was always Anahareo, and he was hers.
Less than a year later, in June 1937, Anahareo gave birth to a second daughter, but she never revealed who the father was.
Some suspected it may have been Archie, regardless she was now a single Indigenous mother in The Great Depression and struggled to provide for her children.
In the end, she made the difficult decision to allow her second daughter to be adopted by a couple from Calgary. Meanwhile she watched as Archie thrived with constant work as his fame grew.
But it came at a cost to his health which wasn’t helped by his alcoholism. By April 1938, he was in such poor health that he was admitted to a hospital in Prince Albert.
On April 12, Anahareo went to the hospital to see him but was told that Archie was sleeping and resting well.
She decided to return the next day but that night he fell into a coma.
Before he did, he asked for Anahareo.
The next day, he died.
Anahareo wrote with regret quote.
“If only I had gone to the hospital that night.”
The day after Archie died, the North Bay Nugget published a piece it had been holding onto for three years.
On April 14, 1938, they announced to the world that Grey Owl was a full-blooded Englishman.
Many wondered how Anahareo, a Mohawk woman, didn’t know that he wasn’t Indigenous.
She explained that she never thought to question his story and later said quote.
“When, finally, I was convinced that Archie was English, I had the awful feeling for all those years I had been married to a ghost, that the man who now lay buried at Ajawaan was someone I had never known, and that Archie had never really existed.”
She was once again living between two worlds.
Anahareo knew that Archie had given the world many wonderful things, including his writing.
She had lived beside him for years and knew that although he had lied to her and many others his writing and experiences had helped to save the beaver from being hunted out of existence.
Anahareo attempted to defend Archie’s legacy even further in 1940 with her book My Life with Grey Owl.
But the publisher made changes that she felt did not do the man she loved justice.
It also didn’t help her financial situation, so she pressed on.
That’s when she met Eric Moltke.
He was a Swedish count who had moved to Canada in the mid-1920s, and he didn’t care about her past with Archie, or the fact she was an unwed mother.
By 1940, the couple got married in Winnipeg.
Soon after, problems started to appear partly because Eric tended to drink too much.
Together, they had one daughter, Katherine, who was born while Eric was overseas serving in the Second World War.
When he returned, the nightmare of war stayed with him and his drinking worsened.
The couple separated briefly in 1947 and during this time Anahareo traveled with her daughters to Prince Albert where she became a cook on a farm.
The following year, Eric got a job in Canmore, Alberta and Anahareo reunited with him, but things weren’t better.
Eric suffered a severe workplace accident in 1953 that left him permanently disabled and unable to work.
His drinking spiraled heavily and by 1959, Anahareo had had enough and left him.
She moved in with Shirley Dawn, while Katerine went to beauty school.
Then Eric died in 1963.
By then there was a growing interest in the environment.
People were less concerned with Archie’s lies of his background and more interested his efforts to protect nature.
His cabin in Prince Albert was also restored and eventually became a National Historic Site.
His legacy as Grey Owl was fed by stories that were either false or sensationalized.
They were all sold by people looking to make a quick buck, so Anahareo decided to finally set the record straight.
In 1972, she published Devil in Deerskins: My Life with Grey Owl.
The title was inspired by Archie who had planned to name his final book Devil in Deerskins.
According to Anahareo, he had always planned to reveal to the world that he was not Indigenous.
Her book was a massive success and became a best-seller.
She was suddenly thrust into the limelight and did interviews across Canada about her life and relationship with Archie.
With her new fame, she decided to do what she had inspired Archie to do decades earlier.
She was going to help the animals she cared for. She joined the Association for the Protection of Fur Bearing Animals in the mid-1970s where she tirelessly fought to ban leg hold traps and poisons in the fur industry.
In 1979, Anahareo was made a member of the Order of Nature of the International League for Animal Rights.
Four years later, she received Canada’s highest honour, the Order of Canada.
By the spring of 1986, she was visiting the Grey Owl Society in Hastings, England when Anahareo suddenly fell ill.
She quickly returned home as her health worsened.
On June 17, 1986, Anahareo died in Kamloops.
She was one day short of her eightieth birthday.
Her body was transported to Prince Albert National Park, where she was buried next to Archie, to rest eternally with the man she loved so deeply.
*sources*
- Devil In Deerskins by Anahareo
- Canadian Encyclopedia: https://thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/anahareo
- Anahero: https://www.anahareo.ca
- Parks Canada: https://parks.canada.ca/pn-np/sk/princealbert/culture/histoire-history
- Mattawa Museum: https://mattawamuseum.ca/local-history/indigenous-history/anahareo/
