Chapter XI: Introduction (10)

Soon after this occasion, at a time which answers to our New
Year’s day, two men start out, one of them being dressed to
represent a woman, and go to every house in the village, blowing
out the light in each. The lights are afterwards rekindled from a
fresh fire. When Taqulitu [Hall’s well known companion in his
journeys] was asked the meaning of this, she replied, “New
sun--new light,” implying a belief that the sun was at that time
renewed for the year.

Inasmuch as Hall did not see the feast himself, but had only a description by an Eskimo, into which he introduced points of similarity with Christian feasts, it may be looked upon as fairly agreeing with the feast of the Oqomiut. The latter part corresponds to the celebration of the feast as it is celebrated in Akudnirn.[8]

[Footnote 8: Since the above was written I learn from a paper by
Mr. Lucien M. Turner that a similar feast is celebrated in Ungava
Bay. (American Naturalist, August, 1887.)]

According to a statement in the journal of Hall’s second expedition (II, p. 219) masks are also used on the western shore of Hudson Bay, where it seems that all the natives disguise themselves on this occasion.

The Akudnirmiut celebrate the feast in the following way: The qailertetang do not act a part there, but other masks take their place. They are called mirqussang and represent a man and his wife. They wear masks of the skin of the ground seal, only that of the woman being tattooed. The hair of the man is arranged in a bunch protruding from the forehead (sulubaut), that of the woman in a pigtail on each side and a large knot at the back of the head. Their left legs are tied up by a thong running around the neck and the knee, compelling them to hobble. They have neither seal float and spear nor inflated legs, but carry the skin scraper. They must try to enter the huts while the Inuit hold a long sealskin thong before them to keep them off. If they fall down in the attempt to cross it they are thoroughly beaten with a short whip or with sticks. After having succeeded in entering the huts they blow out all the fires.

The parts of the feast already described as celebrated in Cumberland Sound seem not to be customary in Akudnirn, the conjuration of Sedna and the exchanges of wives excepted, which are also practiced here. Sometimes the latter ceremony takes place the night before the feast. It is called suluiting or quvietung.

When it is quite dark a number of Inuit come out of their huts and run crying all round their settlements. Wherever anybody is asleep they climb upon the roof of his hut and rouse him by screaming and shouting until all have assembled outside. Then a woman and a man (the mirqussang) sit down in the snow. The man holds a knife (sulung) in his hand, from which the feast takes its name, and sings:

Oangaja jaja jajaja aja.
Pissiungmipadlo panginejernago
Qodlungutaokpan panginejerlugping
Pissiungmipadlo panginejernago.

To this song the woman keeps time by moving her body and her arms, at the same time flinging snow on the bystanders. Then the whole company goes into the singing house and joins in dancing and singing. This done, the men must leave the house and stand outside while the mirqussang watch the entrance. The women continue singing and leave the house one by one. They are awaited by the mirqussang, who lead every one to one of the men standing about. The pair must re-enter the singing house and walk around the lamp, all the men and women crying, “Hrr! hrr!” from both corners of the mouth. Then they go to the woman’s hut, where they stay during the ensuing night. The feast is frequently celebrated by all the tribes of Davis and Hudson Strait, and even independently of the great feast described above.

The day after, the men frequently join in a shooting match. A target is set up, at which they shoot their arrows. As soon as a man hits, the women, who stand looking on, rush forward and rub noses with him.

If a stranger unknown to the inhabitants of a settlement arrives on a visit he is welcomed by the celebration of a great feast. Among the southeastern tribes the natives arrange themselves in a row, one man standing in front of it. The stranger approaches slowly, his arms folded and his head inclined toward the right side. Then the native strikes him with all his strength on the right cheek and in his turn inclines his head awaiting the stranger’s blow (tigluiqdjung). While this is going on the other men are playing at ball and singing (igdlukitaqtung). Thus they continue until one of the combatants is vanquished.

The ceremonies of greeting among the western tribes are similar to those of the eastern, but in addition “boxing, wrestling, and knife testing” are mentioned by travelers who have visited them. In Davis Strait and probably in all the other countries the game of “hook and crook” is always played on the arrival of a stranger (pakijumijartung). Two men sit down on a large skin, after having stripped the upper part of their bodies, and each tries to stretch out the bent arm of the other. These games are sometimes dangerous, as the victor has the right to kill his adversary; but generally the feast ends peaceably. The ceremonies of the western tribes in greeting a stranger are much feared by their eastern neighbors and therefore intercourse is somewhat restricted. The meaning of the duel, according to the natives themselves, is “that the two men in meeting wish to know which of them is the better man.” The similarity of these ceremonies with those of Greenland, where the game of hook and crook and wrestling matches have been customary, is quite striking, as is that of the explanation of these ceremonies.

The word for greeting on Davis Strait and Hudson Strait, is Assojutidlin? (Are you quite well?) and the answer, Tabaujuradlu (Very well). The word Taima! which is used in Hudson Strait, and Mane taima! of the Netchillirmiut seem to be similar to our Halloo! The Ukusiksalirmiut say Ilaga! (My friend!)

CUSTOMS AND REGULATIONS CONCERNING BIRTH, SICKNESS, AND DEATH.

I have mentioned that it is extremely difficult to find out the innumerable regulations connected with the religious ideas and customs of the Eskimo. The difficulty is even greater in regard to the customs which refer to birth, sickness, and death, and it is no wonder that, while some of the accounts of different writers coincide tolerably well, there are great discrepancies in others, particularly as the customs vary to a great extent among the different tribes.

Before the child is born a small hut or snow house is built for the mother, in which she awaits her delivery. Sick persons are isolated in the same way, the reason being that in case of death everything that had been in contact with the deceased must be destroyed. According to Kumlien (p. 28) the woman is left with only one attendant, a young girl appointed by the head ancut (angakoq) of the encampment; but this, no doubt, is an error. She may be visited by her friends, who, however, must leave her when parturition takes place. She must cut the navel string herself, and in Davis Strait this is done by tying it through with deer sinews; in Iglulik (Lyon, p. 370), by cutting it with a stone spear head. The child is cleaned with a birdskin and clothed in a small gown of the same material. According to Lyon the Iglulirmiut swathe it with the dried intestines of some animal.

Kumlien describes a remarkable custom of which I could find no trace, not even upon direct inquiry (p. 281):

As soon as the mother with her new born babe is able to get up and
go out, usually but a few hours, they are taken in charge by an
aged female angakoq, who seems to have some particular mission to
perform in such cases. She conducts them to some level spot on the
ice, if near the sea, and begins a sort of march in circles on the
ice, the mother following with the child on her back; this
manœuvre is kept up for some time, the old woman going through a
number of performances the nature of which we could not learn and
continually muttering something equally unintelligible to us. The
next act is to wade through snowdrifts, the aged angakoq leading
the way. We have been informed that it is customary for the mother
to wade thus bare-legged.

Lyon says (p. 370):

After a few days, or according to the fancy of the parents, an
angakoq, who by relationship or long acquaintance is a friend of
the family, makes use of some vessel, and with the urine the
mother washes the infant, while all the gossips around pour forth
their good wishes for the little one to prove an active man, if a
boy, or, if a girl, the mother of plenty of children. This
ceremony, I believe, is never omitted, and is called qoqsiuariva.

Though I heard about the washing with urine, I did not learn anything about the rest of the ceremony in Cumberland Sound and Davis Strait.

A few days after birth the first dress of the child is exchanged for another. A small hood made from the skin of a hare’s head is fitted snugly upon the head, a jacket for the upper part of the body is made of the skin of a fawn, and two small boots, made of the same kind of a skin, the left one being wreathed with seaweed (_Fucus_), cover the legs. While the child wears this clothing that which was first worn is fastened to a pole which is secured to the roof of the hut. In two months the child gets a third suit of clothes the same as formerly described (p. 557). Then the second gown is exposed for some time on the top of the hut, the first one being taken down, and both are carefully preserved for a year. After this time has expired both are once more exposed on the top of a pole and then sunk into the sea, a portion of the birdskin dress alone being kept, for this is considered a powerful amulet and is held in high esteem and worn every fall at the Sedna feast on the point of the hood (see p. 604). I have stated that those who were born in abnormal presentations wear women’s dresses at this feast and must make their round in a direction opposite to the movement of the sun. Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., affirms that the bird used for the first clothing is chosen according to a strict law, every month having its own bird. So far as I know, waterfowl are used in summer and the ptarmigan in winter, and accordingly the men are called at the great autumn feast the ducks and ptarmigans, the former including those who were born in summer, the latter those born in winter.

As long as any portion of the navel string remains a strip of sealskin is worn around the belly.

After the birth of her child the mother must observe a great number of regulations, referring particularly to food and work. She is not allowed for a whole year to eat raw meat or a part of any animal killed by being shot through the heart. In Cumberland Sound she must not eat for five days anything except meat of an animal killed by her husband or by a boy on his first hunting expedition. This custom seems to be observed more strictly, however, and for a longer period if the new born child dies. Two months after delivery she must make a call at every hut, while before that time she is not allowed to enter any but her own. At the end of this period she must also throw away her old clothing. The same custom was observed by Hall among the Nugumiut (I, p. 426). On the western shore of Hudson Bay she is permitted to re-enter the hut a few days after delivery, but must pass in by a separate entrance. An opening is cut for the purpose through the snow wall. She must keep a little skin bag hung up near her, into which she must put a little of her food after each meal, having first put it up to her mouth. This is called laying up food for the infant, although none is given to it (Hall II, p. 173). I have already mentioned that the parents are not allowed in the first year after the birth of a child to take part in the Sedna feast.

The customs which are associated with the death of an infant are very complicated. For a whole year, when outside the hut, the mother must have her head covered with a cap, or at least with a piece of skin. If a ground seal is caught she must throw away the old cap and have a new one made. The boots of the deceased are always carried about by the parents when traveling, and whenever they stop these are buried in the snow or under stones. Neither parent is allowed to eat raw flesh during the following year. The woman must cook her food in a small pot which is exclusively used by her. If she is about to enter a hut the men who may be sitting inside must come out first, and not until they have come out is she allowed to enter. If she wants to go out of the hut she must walk around all the men who may happen to be there.

The child is sometimes named before it is born. Lyon says upon this subject (p. 369):

Some relative or friend lays her hand on the mother’s stomach, and
decides what the infant is to be called, and, as the names serve
for either sex, it is of no consequence whether it proves a girl
or a boy.

On Davis Strait it is always named after the persons who have died since the last birth took place, and therefore the number of names of an Eskimo is sometimes rather large. If a relative dies while the child is younger than four years or so, his name is added to the old ones and becomes the proper name by which it is called. It is possible that children receive the names of all the persons in the settlement who die while the children are quite young, but of this I am not absolutely certain. When a person falls sick the angakut change his name in order to ward off the disease or they consecrate him as a dog to Sedna. In the latter event he gets a dog’s name and must wear throughout life a harness over the inner jacket. Thus it may happen that Eskimo are known in different tribes by different names. It may also be mentioned here that friends sometimes exchange names and dogs are called by the name of a friend as a token of regard.

The treatment of the sick is the task of the angakoq, whose manipulations have been described.

If it is feared that a disease will prove fatal, a small snow house or a hut is built, according to the season, into which the patient is carried through an opening at the back. This opening is then closed, and subsequently a door is cut out. A small quantity of food is placed in the hut, but the patient is left without attendants. As long as there is no fear of sudden death the relatives and friends may come to visit him, but when death is impending the house is shut up and he is left alone to die. If it should happen that a person dies in a hut among its inmates, everything belonging to the hut must be destroyed or thrown away, even the tools &c. lying inside becoming useless to the survivors, but the tent poles may be used again after a year has elapsed. No doubt this custom explains the isolation of the sick. If a child dies in a hut and the mother immediately rushes out with it, the contents of the hut may be saved.

Though the Eskimo feel the greatest awe in touching a dead body, the sick await their death with admirable coolness and without the least sign of fear or unwillingness to die. I remember a young girl who sent for me a few hours before her death and asked me to give her some tobacco and bread, which she wanted to take to her mother, who had died a few weeks before.

Only the relatives are allowed to touch the body of the deceased. They clothe it or wrap it in deerskins and bury it at once. In former times they always built a tomb, at least when death occurred in the summer. From its usual dimensions one would suppose that the body was buried with the legs doubled up, for all of them are too short for grown persons. If the person to be buried is young, his feet are placed in the direction of the rising sun, those of the aged in the opposite direction. According to Lyon the Iglulirmiut bury half grown children with the feet towards the southeast, young men and women with the feet towards the south, and middle aged persons with the feet towards the southwest. This agrees with the fact that the graves in Cumberland Sound do not all lie east and west. The tomb is always vaulted, as any stone or piece of snow resting upon the body is believed to be a burden to the soul of the deceased. The man’s hunting implements and other utensils are placed by the side of his grave; the pots, the lamps, knives, &c., by the side of that of the woman; toys, by that of a child. Hall (I, p. 103) observed in a grave a small kettle hung up over a lamp. These objects are held in great respect and are never removed, at least as long as it is known to whose grave they belong. Sometimes models of implements are used for this purpose instead of the objects themselves. Figure 536 represents a model of a lamp found in a grave of Cumberland Sound. Nowadays the Eskimo place the body in a box, if they can procure one, or cover it very slightly with stones or snow. It is strange that, though the ceremonies of burying are very strictly attended to and though they take care to give the dead their belongings, they do not heed the opening of the graves by dogs or wolves and the devouring of the bodies and do not attempt to recover them when the graves are invaded by animals.

The body must be carried to the place of burial by the nearest relatives, a few others only accompanying it. For this purpose they rarely avail themselves of a sledge, as it cannot be used afterward, but must be left with the deceased. Dogs are never allowed to drag the sledge on such an occasion. After returning from the burial the relatives must lock themselves up in the old hut for three days, during which they mourn the loss of the deceased. During this time they do not dress their hair and they have their nostrils closed with a piece of deerskin. After this they leave the hut forever. The dogs are thrown into it through the window and allowed to devour whatever they can get at. For some time afterward the mourners must cook their meals in a separate pot. A strange custom was observed by Hall in Hudson Bay (II, p. 186). The mourners did not smoke. They kept their hoods on from morning till night. To the hood the skin and feathers of the head of _Uria grylle_ were fastened and a feather of the same waterfowl to each arm just above the elbow. All male relatives of the deceased wore a belt around the waist, besides which they constantly wore mittens. It is probable that at the present time all Eskimo when in mourning avoid using implements of European manufacture and suspend the use of tobacco. It has already been stated that women who have lost a child must keep their heads covered.

Parry, Lyon (p. 369), and Klutschak (p. 201) state that when the Eskimo first hear of the death of a relative they throw themselves upon the ground and cry, not for grief, but as a mourning ceremony.

For three or sometimes even four days after a death the inhabitants of a village must not use their dogs, but must walk to the hunting ground, and for one day at least they are not allowed to go hunting at all. The women must stop all kinds of work.

On the third day after death the relatives visit the tomb and travel around it three times in the same direction as the sun is moving, at the same time talking to the deceased and promising that they will bring him something to eat. According to Lyon the Iglulirmiut chant forth inquiries as to the welfare of the departed soul, whether it has reached the land Adli, if it has plenty of food, &c., at each question stopping at the head of the grave and repeating some ceremonial words (p. 371).

These visits to the grave are repeated a year after death and whenever they pass it in traveling. Sometimes they carry food to the deceased, which he is expected to return greatly increased. Hall describes this custom as practiced by the Nugumiut (I, p. 426). He says:

They took down small pieces of [deer] skin with the fur on, and of
[fat]. When there they stood around [the] grave [of the woman]
upon which they placed the articles they had brought. Then one of
them stepped up, took a piece of the [deer meat], cut a slice and
ate it, at the same time cutting off another slice and placing it
under a stone by the grave. Then the knife was passed from one
hand to the other, both hands being thrown behind the person. This
form of shifting the implement was continued for perhaps a minute,
the motions being accompanied by constant talk with the dead. Then
a piece of [deer] fur and some [fat] were placed under the stone
with an exclamation signifying, “Here is something to eat and
something to keep you warm.” Each of the [natives] also went
through the same forms. They never visit the grave of a departed
friend until some months after death, and even then only when all
the surviving members of the family have removed to another place.
Whenever they return to the vicinity of their kindred’s grave,
a visit is made to it with the best of food as a present for the
departed one. Neither seal, polar bear, nor walrus, however, is
taken.

According to Klutschak (p. 154), the natives of Hudson Bay avoid staying a long time on the salt water ice near the grave of a relative.

On the fourth day after death the relatives may go for the first time upon the ice, but the men are not allowed to hunt; on the next day they must go sealing, but without dogs and sledge, walking to the hunting ground and dragging the seal home. On the sixth day they are at liberty to use their dogs again. For a whole year they must not join in any festival and are not allowed to sing certain songs.

If a married woman dies the widower is not permitted to keep any part of the first seal he catches after her death except the flesh. Skin, blubber, bones, and entrails must be sunk in the sea.

All the relatives must have new suits of clothes made and before the others are cast away they are not allowed to enter a hut without having asked and obtained permission. (See Appendix, Note 7.)

Lyon (p. 368) makes the following statement on the mourning ceremonies in Iglulik:

Widows are forbidden for six months to taste of unboiled flesh;
they wear no * * * pigtails, and cut off a portion of their long
hair in token of grief, while the remaining locks hang in loose
disorder about their shoulders. * * * After six months, the
disconsolate ladies are at liberty to eat raw meat, to dress their
pigtails and to marry as fast as they please; while in the
meantime they either cohabit with their future husbands, if they
have one, or distribute their favors more generally. A widower and
his children remain during three days within the hut where his
wife died, after which it is customary to remove to another. He is
not allowed to fish or hunt for a whole season, or in that period
to marry again. During the three days of lamentation all the
relatives of the deceased are quite careless of their dress; their
hair hangs wildly about, and, if possible, they are more than
usually dirty in their persons. All visitors to a mourning family
consider it as indispensably necessary to howl at their first
entry.

I may add here that suicide is not of rare occurrence, as according to the religious ideas of the Eskimo the souls of those who die by violence go to Qudlivun, the happy land. For the same reason it is considered lawful for a man to kill his aged parents. In suicide death is generally brought about by hanging.

TALES AND TRADITIONS.

ITITAUJANG.

A long, long time ago, a young man, whose name was Ititaujang, lived in a village with many of his friends. When he became grown he wished to take a wife and went to a hut in which he knew an orphan girl was living. However, as he was bashful and was afraid to speak to the young girl himself, he called her little brother, who was playing before the hut, and said, “Go to your sister and ask her if she will marry me.” The boy ran to his sister and delivered the message. The young girl sent him back and bade him ask the name of her suitor. When she heard that his name was Ititaujang she told him to go away and look for another wife, as she was not willing to marry a man with such an ugly name.[9] But Ititaujang did not submit and sent the boy once more to his sister. “Tell her that Nettirsuaqdjung is my other name,” said he. The boy, however, said upon entering, “Ititaujang is standing before the doorway and wants to marry you.” Again the sister said “I will not have a man with that ugly name.” When the boy returned to Ititaujang and repeated his sister’s speech, he sent him back once more and said, “Tell her that Nettirsuaqdjung is my other name.” Again the boy entered and said, “Ititaujang is standing before the doorway and wants to marry you.” The sister answered, “I will not have a man with that ugly name.” When the boy returned to Ititaujang and told him to go away, he was sent in the third time on the same commission, but to no better effect. Again the young girl declined his offer, and upon that Ititaujang went away in great anger. He did not care for any other girl of his tribe, but left the country altogether and wandered over hills and through valleys up the country many days and many nights.

[Footnote 9: Ititaujang means “similar to the anus.” This
tradition is curtailed, as some parts were considered
inappropriate for this publication. The full text will be found in
the Verhandlungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie,
Ethnologie und Urgeschichte, Berlin, 1888.]

At last he arrived in the land of the birds and saw a lakelet in which many geese were swimming. On the shore he saw a great number of boots; cautiously he crept nearer and stole as many as he could get hold of. A short time after the birds left the water and finding the boots gone became greatly alarmed and flew away. Only one of the flock remained behind, crying, “I want to have my boots; I want to have my boots.” Ititaujang came forth now and answered, “I will give you your boots if you will become my wife.” She objected, but when Ititaujang turned round to go away with the boots she agreed, though rather reluctantly.

Having put on the boots she was transformed into a woman and they wandered down to the seaside, where they settled in a large village. Here they lived together for some years and had a son. In time Ititaujang became a highly respected man, as he was by far the best whaler among the Inuit.

Once upon a time the Inuit had killed a whale and were busy cutting it up and carrying the meat and the blubber to their huts. Though Ititaujang was hard at work his wife stood lazily by. When he called her and asked her to help as the other women did she objected, crying, “My food is not from the sea; my food is from the land; I will not eat the meat of a whale; I will not help.”

Ititaujang answered, “You must eat of the whale; that will fill your stomach.” Then she began crying and exclaimed, “I will not eat it; I will not soil my nice white clothing.”

She descended to the beach, eagerly looking for birds’ feathers. Having found a few she put them between her fingers and between those of her child; both were transformed into geese and flew away.

When the Inuit saw this they called out, “Ititaujang, your wife is flying away.” Ititaujang became very sad; he cried for his wife and did not care for the abundance of meat and blubber, nor for the whales spouting near the shore. He followed his wife and ascended the land in search of her.

After having traveled for many weary months he came to a river. There he saw a man who was busy chopping chips from a piece of wood with a large hatchet. As soon as the chips fell off he polished them neatly and they were transformed into salmon, becoming so slippery that they glided from his hands and fell into the river, which they descended to a large lake near by. The name of the man was Eχaluqdjung (the little salmon).

On approaching, Ititaujang was frightened almost to death, for he saw that the back of this man was altogether hollow and that he could look from behind right through his mouth. Cautiously he crept back and by a circuitous way approached him from the opposite direction.

When Eχaluqdjung saw him coming he stopped chopping and asked, “Which way did you approach me?” Ititaujang, pointing in the direction he had come last and from which he could not see the hollow back of Eχaluqdjung, answered, “It is there I have come from.” Eχaluqdjung, on hearing this, said, “That is lucky for you. If you had come from the other side and had seen my back I should have immediately killed you with my hatchet.” Ititaujang was very glad that he had turned back and thus deceived the salmon maker. He asked him, “Have you not seen my wife, who has left me, coming this way?” Eχaluqdjung had seen her and said, “Do you see yon little island in the large lake? There she lives now and has taken another husband.”

When Ititaujang heard this report he almost despaired, as he did not know how to reach the island; but Eχaluqdjung kindly promised to help him. They descended to the beach; Eχaluqdjung gave him the backbone of a salmon and said, “Now shut your eyes. The backbone will turn into a kayak and carry you safely to the island. But mind you do not open your eyes, else the boat will upset.”

Ititaujang promised to obey. He shut his eyes, the backbone became a kayak, and away he went over the lake. As he did not hear any splashing of water, he was anxious to see whether the boat moved on, and opened his eyes just a little. But he had scarcely taken a short glimpse when the kayak began to swing violently and he felt that it became a backbone again. He quickly shut his eyes, the boat went steadily on, and a short time after he was landed on the island.

There he saw the hut and his son playing on the beach near it. The boy on looking up saw Ititaujang and ran to his mother crying, “Mother, father is here and is coming to our hut.” The mother answered, “Go, play on; your father is far away and cannot find us.” The child obeyed; but as he saw Ititaujang approaching he re-entered the hut and said, “Mother, father is here and is coming to our hut.” Again the mother sent him away, but he returned very soon, saying that Ititaujang was quite near.

Scarcely had the boy said so when Ititaujang opened the door. When the new husband saw him he told his wife to open a box which was in a corner of the hut. She did so, and many feathers flew out of it and stuck to them. The woman, her new husband, and the child were thus again transformed into geese. The hut disappeared; but when Ititaujang saw them about to fly away he got furious and cut open the belly of his wife before she could escape. Then many eggs fell down.

THE EMIGRATION OF THE SAGDLIRMIUT.

In the beginning all the Inuit lived near Ussualung, in Tiniqdjuarbing (Cumberland Sound). The Igdlumiut, the Nugumiut, and the Talirpingmiut in the south, the Aggomiut in the far north, and the Inuit, who tattoo rings round their eyes, in the far west, all once lived together. There is a tradition concerning the emigration of the Sagdlirmiut (see p. 451) who live east of Iglulik. The Akudnirmiut say that the following events did not happen in Tiniqdjuarbing, but in Aggo, a country where nobody lives nowadays. Ikeraping, an Akudnirmio, heard the story related by a Tununirmio, who had seen the place himself, but all the Oqomiut assert that Ussualung is the place where the events in the story happened.

An old woman, the sister of Mitiq, the angakoq, told the story as follows:

Near Ussualung there are two places, Qerniqdjuaq and Eχaluqdjuaq. In each of these was a large house, in which many families lived together. They used to keep company during the summer when they went deer hunting, but returned to their separate houses in the fall.

Once upon a time it happened that the men of Qerniqdjuaq had been very successful, while those of Eχaluqdjuaq had caught scarcely any deer. Therefore the latter got very angry and resolved to kill the other party, but they preferred to wait until the winter. Later in the season many deer were caught and put up in depots. They were to be carried down to the winter settlements by means of sledges.

One day both parties agreed upon a journey to these depots and the men of Eχaluqdjuaq resolved to kill their enemies on this occasion. They set out with their dogs and sledges, and when they were fairly inland they suddenly attacked their unsuspecting companions and killed them. For fear that the wives and children of the murdered men might be suspicious if the dogs returned without their masters, they killed them too. After a short time they returned and said they had lost the other party and did not know what had happened to them.

A young man of Eχaluqdjuaq was the suitor of a girl of Qerniqdjuaq and used to visit her every night. He did not stop his visits now. He was kindly received by the woman and lay down to sleep with his young wife.

Under the snow bench there was a little boy who had seen the young man of Eχaluqdjuaq coming. When everybody was sleeping he heard somebody calling and soon recognized the spirits of the murdered men, who told him what had happened and asked him to kill the young man in revenge. The boy crept from his place under the bed, took a knife, and put it into the young man’s breast. As he was a small boy and very weak, the knife glided from the ribs and entered deep into the heart, thus killing the young man.

Then he roused the other inhabitants of the hut and told them that the spirits of the dead men had come to him, that they had told him of their murder, and had ordered him to kill the young man. The women and children got very much frightened and did not know what to do. At last they resolved to follow the advice of an old woman and to flee from their cruel neighbors. As their dogs were killed, the sledges were of no use, but by chance a bitch with pups was in the hut and the old woman, who was a great angakoq, ordered them to go and whip the young dogs, which would thus grow up quickly. They did so and in a short time the pups were large and strong. They harnessed them and set off as quickly as possible. In order to deceive their neighbors they left everything behind and did not even extinguish their lamps, that they might not excite suspicion.

The next morning the men of Eχaluqdjuaq wondered why their companion had not returned and went to the hut in Qernirtung. They peeped through the spy hole in the window and saw the lamps burning, but nobody inside. At last they discovered the body of the young man, and, finding the tracks of the sledges, they hurriedly put their sledges in order and pursued the fugitives.

Though the latter had journeyed rapidly their pursuers followed still more rapidly and seemed likely to overtake them in a short time. They therefore became very much frightened, fearing the revenge of their pursuers.

When the sledge of the men drew near and the women saw that they were unable to escape, a young woman asked the old angakoq: “Don’t you know how to cut the ice?” The matron answered in the affirmative and slowly drew a line over the ice with her first finger across the path of their pursuers. The ice gave a loud crack. Once more she drew the line, when a crack opened and quickly widened as she passed on. The floe began moving and when the men arrived they could not cross over the wide space of water. Thus the party were saved by the art of their angakoq.

For many days they drifted to and fro, but finally they landed on the island of Sagdlirn, where they took up their abode and became the mothers of the Sagdlirmiut.

KALOPALING.

Kalopaling is a fabulous being that lives in the sea. His body is like that of a human being and he wears clothing made of eider ducks’ skins. Therefore he is sometimes called Mitiling (with eider ducks). As these birds have a black back and a white belly, his gown looked speckled all over. His jacket has an enormous hood, which is an object of fear to the Inuit. If a kayak capsizes and the boatman is drowned Kalopaling puts him into this hood. He cannot speak, but can only cry, “Be, be! Be, be!” His feet are very large and look like inflated sealskin floats.

The Inuit believe that in olden times there were a great number of Kalopalit, but gradually their number diminished and there are now very few left. They may be seen from the land swimming very rapidly under the water and sometimes rising to the surface. While swimming they make a great noise by splashing with arms and legs. In summer they like to bask on rocks and in winter they sometimes sit on the ice near cracks or at the edge of drifting floes. As they pursue the hunters the most daring men try to kill them whenever they can get near them. Cautiously they approach the sleeping Kalopaling, and as soon as they come near enough they throw the walrus harpoon at him. They must shut their eyes immediately until the Kalopaling is dead, else he will capsize the boat and kill the hunters. The flesh of the Kalopaling is said to be poisonous, but good enough for dog’s food.

An old tradition is handed down which refers to a Kalopaling:

An old woman lived with her grandson in a small hut. As they had no kinsmen they were very poor. A few Inuit only took pity on them and brought them seal’s meat and blubber for their lamps. Once upon a time they were very hungry and the boy cried. The grandmother told him to be quiet, but as he did not obey she became angry and called Kalopaling to come and take him away. He entered at once and the woman put the boy into the large hood, in which he disappeared almost immediately.

Later on the Inuit were more successful in sealing and they had an abundance of meat. Then the grandmother was sorry that she had so rashly given the boy to Kalopaling and wished to see him back again. She lamented about it to the Inuit, and at length a man and his wife promised to help her.

When the ice had consolidated and deep cracks were formed near the shore by the rise and fall of the tide, the boy used to rise and sit alongside the cracks, playing with a whip of seaweed. Kalopaling, however, was afraid that somebody might carry the boy away and had fastened him to a string of seaweed, which he held in his hands. The Inuit who had seen the boy went toward him, but as soon as he saw them coming he sang, “Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket” (Inung maqong tikitong, aipa mirqosailing, aipa kapiteling). Then Kalopaling pulled on the rope and the boy disappeared. He did not want to return to his grandmother, who had abused him.

Some time afterward the Inuit saw him again sitting near a crack. They took the utmost caution that he should not hear them when approaching, tying pieces of deerskin under the soles of their boots. But when they could almost lay hold of the boy he sang, “Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket.” Again Kalopaling pulled on the seaweed rope and the boy disappeared.

The man and his wife, however, did not give up trying. They resolved to wait near the crack, and on one occasion when the boy had just come out of the water they jumped forward from a piece of ice behind which they had been hidden and before he could give the alarm they had cut the rope and away they went with him to their huts.

The boy lived with them and became a great hunter.

THE UISSUIT.

Besides the Kalopalit there are the Uissuit, a strange people that live in the sea. They are dwarfs and are frequently seen between Iglulik and Netchillik, where the Anganidjen live, an Inuit tribe whose women are in the habit of tattooing rings around their eyes. There are men and women among the Uissuit and they live in deep water, never coming up to the surface. When the Inuit wish to see them, they go in their boats to a place where they cannot see the bottom and try to catch them by hooks which they slowly move up and down. As soon as they get a bite they draw in the line. The Uissuit are thus drawn up; but no sooner do they approach the surface than they dive down headlong again, only their legs having emerged from the water. The Inuit have never succeeded in getting one out of the water.

KIVIUNG.

An old woman lived with her grandson in a small hut. As she had no husband and no son to take care of her and the boy, they were very poor, the boy’s clothing being made of skins of birds which they caught in snares. When the boy would come out of the hut and join his playfellows, the men would laugh at him and tear his outer garment. Only one man, whose name was Kiviung, was kind to the young boy; but he could not protect him from the others. Often the lad came to his grandmother crying and weeping, and she always consoled him and each time made him a new garment. She entreated the men to stop teasing the boy and tearing his clothing, but they would not listen to her prayer. At last she got angry and swore she would take revenge upon his abusers, and she could easily do so, as she was a great angakoq.

She commanded her grandson to step into a puddle which was on the floor of the hut, telling him what would happen and how he should behave. As soon as he stood in the water the earth opened and he sank out of sight, but the next moment he rose near the beach as a yearling seal with a beautiful skin and swam about lustily.

The men had barely seen the seal when they took to their kayaks, eager to secure the pretty animal. But the transformed boy quickly swam away, as his grandmother had told him, and the men continued in pursuit. Whenever he rose to breathe he took care to come up behind the kayaks, where the men could not get at him with their harpoons; there, however, he splashed and dabbled in order to attract their attention and lure them on. But before any one could turn his kayak he had dived again and swam away. The men were so interested in the pursuit that they did not observe that they were being led far from the coast and that the land was now altogether invisible.

Suddenly a gale arose; the sea foamed and roared and the waves destroyed or upset their frail vessels. After all seemed to be drowned the seal was again transformed into the lad, who went home without wetting his feet. There was nobody now to tear his clothing, all his abusers being dead.

Only Kiviung, who was a great angakoq and had never abused the boy, had escaped the wind and waves. Bravely he strove against the wild sea, but the storm did not abate. After he had drifted for many days on the wide sea, a dark mass loomed up through the mist. His hope revived and he worked hard to reach the supposed land. The nearer he came, however, the more agitated did the sea become, and he saw that he had mistaken a wild, black sea, with raging whirlpools, for land. Barely escaping he drifted again for many days, but the storm did not abate and he did not see any land. Again he saw a dark mass looming up through the mist, but he was once more deceived, for it was another whirlpool which made the sea rise in gigantic waves.

At last the storm moderated, the sea subsided, and at a great distance he saw the land. Gradually he came nearer and following the coast he at length spied a stone house in which a light was burning. He landed and entered the house. Nobody was inside but an old woman whose name was Arnaitiang. She received him kindly and at his request pulled off his boots, slippers, and stockings and dried them on the frame hanging over the lamp. Then she went out to light a fire and cook a good meal.

When the stockings were dry, Kiviung tried to take them from the frame in order to put them on, but as soon as he extended his hand to touch them the frame rose out of his reach. Having tried several times in vain, he called Arnaitiang and asked her to give him back the stockings. She answered: “Take them yourself; there they are; there they are” and went out again. The fact is she was a very bad woman and wanted to eat Kiviung.

Then he tried once more to take hold of his stockings, but with no better result. He called again for Arnaitiang and asked her to give him the boots and stockings, whereupon she said: “Sit down where I sat when you entered my house; then you can get them.” After that she left him again. Kiviung tried it once more, but the frame rose as before and he could not reach it.

Now he understood that Arnaitiang meditated mischief; so he summoned his tornaq, a huge white bear, who arose roaring from under the floor of the house. At first Arnaitiang did not hear him, but as Kiviung kept on conjuring the spirit came nearer and nearer to the surface, and when she heard his loud roar she rushed in trembling with fear and gave Kiviung what he had asked for. “Here are your boots,” she cried; “here are your slippers; here are your stockings. I’ll help you put them on.” But Kiviung would not stay any longer with this horrid witch and did not even dare to put on his boots, but took them from Arnaitiang and rushed out of the door. He had barely escaped when it clapped violently together and just caught the tail of his jacket, which was torn off. He hastened to his kayak without once stopping to look behind and paddled away. He had only gone a short distance before Arnaitiang, who had recovered from her fear, came out swinging her glittering woman’s knife and threatening to kill him. He was nearly frightened to death and almost upset his kayak. However, he managed to balance it again and cried in answer, lifting up his spear: “I shall kill you with my spear.” When Arnaitiang heard these words she fell down terror stricken and broke her knife. Kiviung then observed that it was made of a thin slab of fresh water ice.

He traveled on for many days and nights, following the shore. At last he came to a hut, and again a lamp was burning inside. As his clothing was wet and he was hungry, he landed and entered the house. There he found a woman who lived all alone with her daughter. Her son-in-law was a log of driftwood which had four boughs. Every day about the time of low water they carried it to the beach and when the tide came in it swam away. When night came again it returned with eight large seals, two being fastened to every bough. Thus the timber provided its wife, her mother, and Kiviung with an abundance of food. One day, however, after they had launched it as they had always done, it left and never returned.

After a short interval Kiviung married the young widow. Now he went sealing every day himself and was very successful. As he thought of leaving some day, he was anxious to get a good stock of mittens (that his hands might keep dry during the long journey?). Every night after returning from hunting he pretended to have lost his mittens. In reality he had concealed them in the hood of his jacket.

After awhile the old woman became jealous of her daughter, for the new husband of the latter was a splendid hunter and she wished to marry him herself. One day when he was away hunting, she murdered her daughter, and in order to deceive him she removed her daughter’s skin and crept into it, thus changing her shape into that of the young woman. When Kiviung returned, she went to meet him, as it had been her daughter’s custom, and without exciting any suspicion. But when he entered the hut and saw the bones of his wife he at once became aware of the cruel deed and of the deception that had been practiced and fled away.

He traveled on for many days and nights, always following the shore. At last he again came to a hut where a lamp was burning. As his clothing was wet and he was hungry, he landed and went up to the house. Before entering it occurred to him that it would be best to find out first who was inside. He therefore climbed up to the window and looked through the peep hole. On the bed sat an old woman, whose name was Aissivang (spider). When she saw the dark figure before the window she believed it was a cloud passing the sun, and as the light was insufficient to enable her to go on with her work she got angry. With her knife she cut away her eyebrows, ate them, and did not mind the dripping blood, but sewed on. When Kiviung saw this he thought that she must be a very bad woman and turned away.