I Heard The Owl Call My Name

“The Indian knows his village and feels for his village as no white man for his country, his town, or even his own bit of land. His village is not the strip of land four miles long and three miles wide that is his as long as the sun rises and the moon sets. The myths are the village and the winds and the rains. [...] The village is the salmon who comes up the river to spawn, the seal who follows the salmon and bites off his head, the bluejay whose name is like the sound he makes—’Kwiss-kwiss.’ The village is the talking bird, the owl, who calls the name of the man who is going to die, and the silver-tipped grizzly who ambles into the village, and the little white speck that is the mountain goat on Whoop-Szo.” 

The Bishop attempts to encapsulate the experience that awaits Mark in Kingcome, specifically the lack of demarcation between the physical, emotional, and spiritual features of place and people. By setting Mark up to expand his sense of self and become part of the village, the Bishop is also acclimating him to the idea of death. This passage is the first mention of the owl who calls the name of the man who will die, an important setup for when Mark hears it call his name in Chapter 21.

“It is only the grave trees. In the old days each family had its own trees. The lower limbs were cut off as protection against the animals, and the boxes were hoisted by ropes and tied one above another in the tops. Many have fallen as you can see, and the grave sheds that were built later have fallen and most of the old carvings.”

Jim explains the dilapidated appearance of the old burial ground as he and Mark go to bury the weesa-bedó. Mark earns the respect of the tribal elders when he leaves after his Anglican service to give them privacy as they perform tribal rites. After the tribe members assemble Mark’s new vicarage, they ask for his help fixing up and consecrating the burial ground. This reciprocity shows each party’s respect for the beliefs and customs of the other.  

“In the teacher’s house the only other white man in the village did not think of the vicar at all. He didn’t even know he had arrived; he didn’t even know he was coming. This was the teacher’s second year in the village. He did not like the Indians and they did not like him. When he had returned from his summer holiday, a seaplane had deposited him at flood tide under the alders on the far side of the river, and he had stood there in the rain yelling loudly, ‘Come and get me,’ and T.P. had announced, ‘If he cannot be more polite let him stay there.’ […] The teacher had come to the village solely for the isolation pay which would permit him a year in Greece studying the civilization he adored.” 

The teacher rarely figures into the story, and when he does his insularity serves as a counterpoint to Mark’s attempts to integrate into the village. As a consequence of his close-mindedness, the schoolteacher doesn’t change, while Mark does.