I had the pleasure of being taught to hunt by an old Tlingit Elder Grandpa Frank Sydney, from Teslin Yukon, as a young teenager. Dad, my two brothers and I learned a great deal from him both about hunting and the traditional Tlingit way of life. I scrounged around trying to find a picture of him, and if I can drum one up I'll post it. He was a member of the Eagle clan.
Even in his 70's he had a great sense of humour and if we had an outsider in our midst we had a running repertoire of one liners like " Grampa why do you have no teeth"? To which he would grin and reply " Son I was born with no teeth".
He was happiest floating down the Nisutlin River his Bolt action 243 topped with a brand new scope we had bought him, featuring a red dot where the cross hairs met to aid his ageing eye's. Or paddling our way across a swamp in the morning fog, trying not to hit the side of our boat with the paddles as he called for moose.
All told we managed to get 4 or 5 moose over the course of 4 or 5 years hunting with him.
The first one my Dad had decided to take my late grandfathers 270 instead of his favourite 30-30, and thus wounded a cow in an area a forest fire had raged through many years earlier. Off course the moose took off and Dad had to chase it down for a mile through dead fall 3 feet off the ground. Once Dad anchored it, he came back to get help and I as a 12 year old headed of along with Eddy my 10 year old brother; to help Dad. Since Grampa Frank was 70 and had only one lung he and my 8 year old brother Jordan said they would stay at the truck.
Of course half an hour later they grew impatient and headed off, climbing over downed pine tree's every 10 feet. Within half a mile grandpa Frank had tripped, fallen and broken a couple ribs. As he lay there in agony he instructed my 8 year old brother to " hand me my rifle, tell your Dad where I am and don't any of you boy's come back with him to find me"!
Jordan grimly looked at him and said " No Grampa Frank I'm not giving you your gun, and I'm not leaving you, I'll pray for you and Jesus will heal you". Left with no choice they said a prayer, leaning on his little gun bearer, Grampa Frank walked back out to the truck.
Grandpa told the story of his faithful hunting buddy for years.
April 23rd 1988 while attending a wedding we got a call Grandpa was sick in Teslin and wanted us to fly down and pick him up, in the Cherokee 6, my dad and I left right away, about a 3rd of the way there, we where called by flight services telling us Grandpa Frank was on his way to Whitehorse by ambulance. I turn the plane around and headed back home.
I went back to the wedding and dad went to the hospital to meet him. At 2 am he departed for the happy hunting grounds.
Here is a link to a website his first nations tribe has created.
http://www.ttc-teslin.com/heritage.html