X
DAY AND NIGHT
Young "Tooloogigra," inheriting his mother's happy disposition, was soon the pet of his grandparents. As he began to run around, he became infatuated with the bright ball that he saw hanging in his home, but his grandfather would let him have only the dark one to play with. He rolled it around in his childish play, yet it did not meet with his fancy. He often cried and teased grandpa for the other one. The old chieftain, although very affectionate and indulgent in every other respect, refused to let his young grandson have the bright ball that he had been guarding so faithfully for so many years.
At last an opportunity arrived for the boy to gain his desire. The chieftain was absent from home and some people venturing into the place were amazed at the great beauty of the balls. Curiosity has always been a strong element in the human character, and as the people of that day were no exception to the rule, they soon experienced a desire to examine those balls. Unfastening the bright one from its place of confinement, they carried it outside to admire, when little "Tooloogigra," gaining possession, broke the ball with his hands. Instantly a bright light, which had been kept in confinement, escaped, flooding the world with daylight for the first time. The people in their amazement threw up their hands and cried "couru," which has ever since remained the name for daylight.
Not satisfied with their experience and the changed condition of things, they soon had the second ball unfastened and in their hands, when little "Tooloogigra," gaining possession of this also, broke it as he had the first. A dark vapor was liberated, which, spreading over the earth, extinguished the bright light. The people then cried "oongnoo," from which has been derived "oongnoorpuk"—night.
Ever since that time, many a polar mother has interested her children by telling them how young "Tooloogigra" liberated day and night from their confinement.
XI
MAN'S FIRST CONSTRUCTED HOME
North America, having gradually emerged from the water, had come into existence. To the east of Alaska, the warm Atlantic currents had become restricted by the rising land and did not flow so freely as formerly. To the south, the Seward Peninsula was forming, first appearing as a string of islands with shoals, then gradually rising more and more, until it restricted the ocean currents from the Pacific. The Arctic regions, being deprived of their warming influences, were beginning to feel the cold of winter.
The birds had taken the warning and were commencing to form their migratory habits by flying south to escape the cold and to find regions where their food supply was more abundant, returning north each summer to their earlier homes for the nesting season. The mammoth had also apparently tried to make its escape, but had perished in large numbers in the region of Escholtz Bay, at a section often called the Mammoth Graveyard. The birds and ducks seemed to be trying to overtake the retreating sun as it worked its way southward, the godwit continuing its flight as far as New Zealand, where it yet continues to spend the winter months.
Many of the inhabitants of Alaska, in trying to make their escape from the cold, apparently preferred to follow the sun in its western course. These people had progressed far enough to know the art of canoe building. The remains of three of their canoes are to be seen to-day on mountains inland, where they have been well preserved by the ice and snow, remaining as silent witnesses of an early day and showing where the ocean used to be in the remote past. Also on higher ground inland can be seen the skeleton of a whale; while on the Seward Peninsula, on land between four and five hundred feet higher than the ocean, an acquaintance found a driftwood log in a fair state of preservation. The people, following the chain of islands which separate Behring Sea from the Pacific Ocean, reached Siberia, which they probably crossed. We read that there lived in Europe at a very early date, a rude race of hunters and fishers, closely allied to the Eskimos, who were apparently driven there from the east by the increasing cold. They seem to have made an impression on the older languages of Europe in the line of their words and grammar, and it is also probable that their tradition of the earliest state of man may have led to the fable of the sea nymph.
The Seward Peninsula continued rising until at last it entirely emerged above the water, disclosing those wonderful deposits of gold that of late years have made Nome famous throughout the world. The rising land formed a barrier against the warming influence of the Japan current. Then the Arctic winters set in with their utmost severity, continuing until at last Nature came to the relief of this ice-bound region. A portion of the land nearest Asia sank, forming what is now known as the Behring Straits, again admitting the Japan current to exert its ameliorating influence on the Arctic sections. Our seasons then assumed pretty much the same conditions they have now. Tradition states that in the past there have been severe earthquakes in this section and it may be due to such a cause that the land subsided.
As the seasons grew more and more severe, Nature, according to tradition, took care of the seal and the wolf, by changing the fat of the former to the blubber of to-day, and by causing the thin, short hair of the latter to grow into the thick, warm fur of the present. Man, with his superior intellect, was left to solve his own problem. Those people who had remained behind soon found that their cave-dwellings were not a sufficient protection against the cold, which was recurring with greater severity each succeeding winter, and undoubtedly many perished. The polar bear had solved the problem of sheltering herself by building a home, according to circumstances, either on the land, or on the ocean ice, and it was the latter that suggested to man how to construct his first mound house, called iglo.
The female bear, in making the winter home in which her cub is born, selects a site where the ocean ice extends up against a cliff, and where the snow has drifted the deepest; with her massive paws she digs into the drift, throwing the snow behind her. The entrance becomes filled, while the drifting snow soon obliterates any external sign of her presence. A good-sized room is formed and a small hole in the roof, made by the warmth inside, acts as a ventilator. The escaping steam is the sign which shows the hunter where a bear is to be procured. She makes a hole in the ice, at one end of the room, through which she can dive to procure a seal when hungry. Here she has a warm, comfortable home for herself and cub, where they remain until the warmer weather of spring reminds the family that it is time to begin their travels with the ice pack.
Man imitated the bear in constructing his iglo. First excavating the ground for a short distance, he erected over it a frame of driftwood and whale jaws. At one end of the room the excavation was made somewhat deeper, a hole large enough to admit a man being left in the floor over the excavation to serve as an entrance, and a driftwood passageway ending at a mound left open at the top, whose elevation prevented the snow drifting in, made an exit to the outer world. A small hole in the roof of the one room acted as a ventilator and a larger one covered with the dried intestines of a seal served as a window. All was then covered over with sods and earth, making a home constructed on the same principle as that of the bear; one that resisted the cold and could be easily warmed by the seal-oil lamp. The same principle is still adhered to in constructing the modern iglo, though a small room has been added at the entrance to serve as a cooking room, while for the hole in the floor for an entrance a small door has been substituted.
XII
THE MAMMOTH
The traditions regarding the mammoth, called the "keleegewuk," are few and short. They are not of an interesting nature, further than to give some idea of the great age of these traditions. They were undoubtedly much longer at first, but by their descent through a vast length of time, they now appear in their present curtailment. There is one that gives a slight insight into the condition of those early days, both as regards the heat of the weather, and the changes that have taken place with the wolf.
A man had gone into the interior on a hunting expedition. The weather proved to be very warm, so he sought the shelter of a cave, intending to await the passing of the heat of the day. He had not been in the shelter long before the sound of a heavy animal passing rapidly over the earth greeted his ears, and on looking out he saw a mammoth in full flight, the huge creature exhibiting great fear, as it was being chased by a thin, short-haired wolf. The man watched the two until they had passed from sight.
The fear exhibited by the mammoth for so small an animal as the wolf puts one in mind of the reports that the modern elephant will occasionally exhibit much alarm when a mouse appears in its exclosure.
XIII
FIRE-MAKING
The art of fire-making was known among these people at a very remote time. The earliest method appears to have been through the agency of iron pyrites, called "cozgeen" or "igneen," and from the latter has been derived "ignek," the Tigara word for fire. Two pieces of "igneen," being struck together, would emit a spark; a small-sized heap of tinder being placed on the ground the operator would continue striking the glancing blows until a lucky spark ignited the mass. The operation, to say the least, must have required a great amount of patience on the part of the operator. It was the only method of fire-making known for a great length of time; then the second method was happily discovered.
It had been found that a small round stick with a piece of flint inserted in the end, revolved by hand, would bore through bone, ivory or even stone. Later on some inventive genius introduced the bow and string, to revolve the instrument more rapidly, while a wooden mouth-piece was used to exert pressure and to steady the instrument. It is still in use for boring, a piece of wire having replaced the flint. After the introduction of the bow and string and the mouth-piece, it was found that the rapidly revolving tool excited friction enough to produce fire. That was the second method known, but it did not displace the "igneen" which continued in use until rendered obsolete by the well-known flint and steel. This last is of comparatively recent introduction, iron not having been known in Alaska until the past fifty or sixty years. The domestic match, however, has now almost displaced all the other methods, although the flint and steel are still in use with some of the older smokers.
XIV
INSTRUMENTS
Man is more poorly endowed, both as regards speed and natural weapons of defense, than almost any other member of the animal kingdom. Had it not been for his superior intellect from the first, he would undoubtedly have been exterminated long ago. From the earliest time he has been forced to exercise his ingenuity to make amends for the natural inferiority he labored under in striving for his food, yet he has advanced step by step until he has proved his superiority by subduing all the other creatures of his kingdom, standing to-day without a rival, his only capable adversary being his fellow man.
There was, of course, a very early prehistoric time, at which he was forced to procure his food without artificial aid, the Inupash will tell you; then, as his inventive genius began exercising itself, a stone with a thong attached was employed to dispatch the game he sought. The stick sharpened at one end was probably introduced about the same time, it being the forerunner of the spear, which has proved as useful for small game as it has for the great brown bear. When the animal charged, the hunter quickly placed the butt of the spear on the ground, and the bear, thus coming in contact with the sharpened end, was pierced and killed. The noose also proved of service for bear and deer. If hunting the former, a steep bank, where the creature was known to walk, was chosen and the noose set. On becoming entangled, the bear in its struggle fell over the bank, where it would hang until dead. The sling probably never proved very efficacious, as its accuracy for birds on the wing is too uncertain. It was useful for casting stones into the ocean to frighten and drive the beluga into the nets set for that purpose. The "kalimetown" was a far more effective instrument. It was made of seven small ivory balls, each having a string of deer sinew attached, the strings being joined at the end by a feather. On being thrown into a flock of ducks on the wing, any one of the balls striking a bird would act as a pivot for the others to encircle the victim and bring it to the ground.
Bone or ivory hooks were used in fishing through the ice, the line being made from strips of whalebone or spines from the feather of the gannet. A spear formed from two pieces of bone arranged in the shape of a V proved effective in capturing fish. The net was of service, not only for fish and beluga, but also for ptarmigan and foxes. For the latter, it was set stationary, the hunters remaining hidden in snow shelters constructed for the occasion. On the approach of a fox, the men in hiding jumped up and made a noise, and the frightened creature in its efforts to escape was driven forward into the net. In netting ptarmigan, the only caution necessary is not to frighten the birds, but to keep them walking forward slowly. The meshes of the net are large and of fine sinew; the bird on attempting to pass through, becomes entangled. On the cliffs, during the summer months, the hand-net on a pole is a favorite device for capturing the murres, which fly back and forth among the rocks in immense numbers, making one continuous war night and day. These methods of hunting are all very old, yet all are still in use among the Inupash with the exception of that of netting foxes, the net having been abandoned for the steel trap.
Bows and arrows are of very ancient origin, too remote to trace out their first introduction. The bow was made from selected pieces of driftwood, reinforced by strips of whalebone, and bound with deer sinew. The arrow had two principal forms of head, one of brown flint, the other of deer horn, much longer than the first and nicked on the sides, to make it hold in the wounded game. On being struck, an animal would try to dislodge the arrow, giving the hunter a chance to send a second one, and so it would continue until a lucky shot proved fatal.
In constructing the flint arrow-heads, two instruments were used, the "natkenn," a small hammer made preferably from the base of the horn of a deer where it enters into the bony portion of the skull, and the "kigleen," a kind of sharpener made from a piece of deer horn, with a small round piece of ivory overlapping and bound to its upper surface. A piece of flint being chosen, the man making the arrow-head would place a deerskin mitten on his left hand, then, placing the flint on the palm and wrist of the protected hand, would strike the edge of the flint with the "natkenn" so that small slivers would be detached from the under surface. The operation would be continued until the flint had assumed the proper shape, and then the "kigleen" was employed to drive and make the edge even.
For the horn arrow-heads, deer horns were immersed in hot water, then straightened and shaped with stone knives. Two pieces of feather, properly bound at the lower end of the shaft, gave the arrow a rotary motion as it passed through the air, and insured a greater accuracy. It is a principle that has been adopted by manufacturers of modern rifle guns to impart to the projectile a spinning motion in its flight.
The first guns introduced among the Inupash were the old flintlocks, although this was probably not over thirty-five or forty years ago; they must have been the flintlocks left over with some trading company, after the introduction of the percussion caps, that had found their way this long distance across the country.
"Koonooya" is the name of the villager who was the first to own a double-barreled shotgun; previous to that he had killed fourteen white, and two brown bears with his bow and arrow. The older people laugh as they relate how those standing near the man firing would place their hands over their ears to deaden the sound, while the little girls cried, declaring the big noise hurt their ears.
The first knives were of flint, jade and slate; the boring tools of flint; the adze of jade; hammers were made mostly from jade and wedges of bone; while flint was used to saw the jade, and the brown variety was employed for tools. The women's knives were largely of slate, but sometimes of jade, and their needles of ivory or bone.
Pots were crudely manufactured by mixing clay with heavy-spar that had been roasted and powdered fine,—called "kētik," blood from a seal being added and sometimes the pin-feathers from a bird. Utensils thus made were less liable to fracture than those formed simply from clay. Occasionally a flat stone was hollowed out to about the depth of a frying-pan, and used for a cooking utensil, it having the advantage of boiling more quickly than the clay vessel over the seal-oil lamp. These lamps were simply flat stones, hollowed out with the flint instruments so as to hold oil. A few copper kettles of Russian make found their way into Tigara from the Diomedes about sixty years back; they were very expensive and could be afforded by but few. The "Ongootkoots" frequently broke up these kettles and pounded the copper into knives, these being the first metal blades known among the Inupash.
An Elevated GraveAn Elevated Grave
Wood shovels, tipped with bone, and picks made from whale jaws, were employed in cutting sods and excavating the ground for the iglos, and also for digging pits in the deep snow, back in the valleys, into which the deer would fall and could then be easily captured.
The first spear heads were of bone or ivory; later on they were nicked on the sides so as to hold more firmly. Afterward, the heads were made movable with a line attached, having the advantage of holding crosswise when driven well in. About one hundred miles east of the village of Tigara, in the land of the Kivalinyas, a man once darted a beluga, but becoming entangled in the line he was dragged off into the ocean. The beluga was afterward killed at the mouth of the Mackenzie River, it having towed the body considerably more than one thousand miles.
For clothing, deerskins were stretched and scraped with flint instruments, then dressed with powdered heavy-spar, making the skin soft and pliable. Fresh skins from the common seal were rolled up and kept in a warm place until the hair loosened, then stretched and dried, and afterward scraped and worked until soft. These were employed to make the upper portions of the summer waterproof boots and shoes. The skin of the giant seal, treated in the same way, was used for boot soles, the soles being crimped into shape by biting with the teeth. All sewing was done with deer or whale sinew, the former being considered the best. The same methods are yet employed for dressing skins and making clothing as of old.
Lines for the seal spear, hauling lines for the boat or sled, and all lashings, are made from the skin of the giant seal, treated as above, then cut into long strings.
All the stone implements that were formerly in use have been rendered obsolete by the introduction of iron, and it is now difficult to procure any of these old reminders of the past.
XV
MUSIC
The Polarites have but two musical instruments, the "ahtooktoora," or one-string fiddle, and the "calown," or one-headed drum. The latter is by far the more important, being used on all festive occasions both to beat time for the dancers and also to accompany the singers.
Many of the songs of these people relate fragments of tradition, while others deal with a crude mythology. There is yet another class, looked upon as prayers; some of these are very old, and are highly treasured by the possessors, being guarded as great secrets. When a father is about to pass away, he will call his son and impart to him the song as a legacy. No one else is allowed to be present on such an occasion, it being regarded in the same solemn light as a dying parent's blessing. The son in his turn, when he has grown old, and is about ready to take leave of the world, will impart the song to the next one in line of inheritance. These heirlooms have descended through families from one generation to another for an immense length of time. They are supposed to have a mystic charm and are never sung loud, but are hummed in a low voice. No outsider is allowed to learn the words or hear the tunes. If a seal on the ice is very watchful, the hunter that has received such a legacy will lie still and sing the magic words, at which the animal is supposed to go to sleep and so be readily approached. The same is said about the whale; if it has been struck, and there is danger of its being lost, the initiated will sing the magic words, after which the whale can be captured.
One song of the first named class relates the experiences of a young woman. Her parents, who are growing old, are desirous that she should choose a husband from among the young men of the village. She, refusing to do so, selects a skull as her lover. Her mother is indignant, and one day during the daughter's absence accuses her son-in-law of keeping her awake the previous night by too much whispering. Taking a stick she thrusts it into the eye socket, then tosses the skull out-of-doors. The wind rolls it down the beach and far out into the ocean. The daughter, on returning and finding her lover absent, eagerly inquires where he is. On going outside the trail of the skull is discovered and followed to the water. A mouse coming along the trail is killed and, on its being thrown into the ocean, a path is made visible which leads down into the shades. There the lover is found; he has grown a new body and is living with two old women. The young woman is overjoyed at finding her Orpheus, but he, pointing to the wound in the eye, tells her that her mother was the cause of it and refuses to return with her. She mournfully retraces her steps to earth and decides to choose the other road thence leading to Paradise.
Taking the winding path that ascends toward the sky, she finds that the scene grows more enchanting as she proceeds. At last she arrives at the moon, where everything is found to be most beautiful. After viewing the amazing scene, she expresses a desire to cast her eyes upon the earth again, but the keeper refuses to open the door. Finally, however, her earnest pleadings have the desired effect, and he concedes to her request by opening the door a little. While she is looking down, a great shout is heard, as the villagers cry out, "There's the new moon!" One man, taking a cup, tosses water so high that it enters the door of the moon; at the same time he shouts, "Send me a whale." A second man does the same, but tosses the water only a short distance, for he has met with disappointment in his whaling. All these scenes, with the distinctness of the voices, have the effect of making her homesick to return to the village. She pleads with the doorkeeper to allow her to retrace her steps, but he declares that the path has vanished, and that no one entering the moon can return by the same road. She, becoming disconsolate, is at last informed that if she will braid a rope long enough to reach the earth a descent can be made by that means; so she sets to work and after diligent labor the task is ultimately completed. As she starts to lower herself, the doorkeeper tells her to keep her eyes closed until her feet touch the ground, and following his instructions she at last reaches the earth once more.
XVI
WOODEN FACES
Many families treasure old family portraits—paintings of ancestors who have rendered themselves famous in one way or another. Such paintings have their unwritten stories, repeated by word of mouth from one generation to another, thereby preserving the family history which is looked back upon with pride by the descendants.
Among the inhabitants of the Arctic regions the same sentiment long ago prevailed. They had no pencils or paints, neither did they know anything of the painter's art, so with their stone knives or other rude tools they carved faces from driftwood, which were hung up in their homes as mementos of former great men and ancestors. With these faces were always associated the unwritten stories of the men they represented, descending by word of mouth from one generation to another, thereby preserving the family history. Sometimes the accounts of the deeds these men performed were carved on ivory, thus aiding in the preservation of their stories.
It is doubtful if these masks were very good likenesses of the individuals, but they have served their purpose remarkably well. It is also doubtful if our more civilized artists could have done much better than these untrained sculptors with the same rude tools and materials with which they had to work. Sometimes the untutored artist would create an unsatisfactory face, one rather hideous in its appearance; then he would declare that he had made the face of Toongna. At other times faces would be created without any intention of their representing any particular individual. Such faces were hung up in homes for the same reason that we adorn our walls with oil paintings or photographs, simply to look at them. Other large faces were made and used in the festivities of a feast, but I have never learned that such faces were looked upon with any degree of superstition, as many have supposed.
XVII
THE EVOLUTION OF THE COOK
The Arctic cook's necessary tools are first a fire, then a pot and a spoon or stick, and a piece of seal meat. Judging from tradition, these must have been known to the first old woman. The forerunner of the spoon was the "allutok," a name derived from two words, "allukto," to lick, and "tock," occurring only in the construction of compound words and having a reference to bringing. The first "allutok" was simply a small stick like the Chinese chop-stick. It continued in use for a great many centuries, or to within the past ten or twelve years. Since then it has been entirely replaced by the modern spoon, which has retained the same name.
Calling boiled seal meat the first, we will look upon "pooyā" as the second triumph of the culinary art. I give the recipe for number two. At the same time, it is doubtful if any of the modern ladies of the kitchen will care to experiment with its manufacture. The only things of interest about "pooyā" are its age, the ingredients and style of its construction, and its one great product (according to the Inupash)—the first man.
During those very early days, the woman appears not to have washed her dishes, although she may have spent a great deal of time in the water. The recipe says: Scrape the old dried dinner from the "allutok" used at a previous feast of seal meat. To the scrapings add a small pinch of the tender pin feathers of a bird. The two ingredients are to be mixed, then masticated until metamorphosed into chewing-gum.
There were no clocks or watches in those early days, so the Polar man's first mother had lots of time. After a few centuries had passed, some genius invented a new form of chewing-gum called "ānoon." It appears to have been the third triumph in the culinary line. Seal oil is boiled; the upper portion being poured off, the thick sediment remaining is again boiled until it becomes black and nearly burnt, when it is ready for chewing. The use of this is said to shorten time considerably, but the mass does not look inviting.
"Keveh," made by warming deer tallow, then beating it into a light mass with salmon berries, was the fourth innovation, and "ahkootoo," the fifth. "Ahkootoo" is made from deer marrow, mixed with whale oil, a small amount of soup from boiled deer meat and also some of the meat cut fine. The mass is to be beaten until it becomes quite light. It is an article of food very highly esteemed by the Inupash.
These remained the only dishes known to the cook for a vast length of time, but I take it that much meat and fish were devoured raw. On the first introduction of flour, the people did not care for it, but about 1890 they learned the art of making "nookpowras," flour mixed with a small amount of water, then dropped into boiling seal or whale oil. "Nookpowras" proved quite popular, and flour became a demand.
A few years back instructions were begun among the young people at Tigara in the simple art of cooking. At first the girls viewed it in the line of a novelty, but when they noticed the eligible young men picking out the cooks for their wives, it was astonishing to see what zeal all the marriageable girls suddenly developed. As soon as they had learned to turn a slapjack, or to make a cup of coffee, they would, on returning to their homes in the evening, pass around among the young men, bragging of what good cooks they were; or if a whale ship was sighted, off would scamper the cooks, anxious to be the first on board, invariably hunting up the cooks' galley, where they introduced themselves as cooks, seeming to feel that there should be a professional bond of sympathy between them.
It was not alone in cooking that instructions were given, but also in the art of sewing; simple cutting was taught and the making of such things as towels, snow shirts and trousers.
At one time the young tribal princess and her companion were under instruction. They tried to excel all previous apprentices in various ways. No sooner would the breakfast dishes be through with than the girls would disappear out-of-doors. On searching for them, they would be found in some secluded corner playing housekeeping; or, if a doctor's patient came along, after his departure they would prescribe small powders of flour for each other. When the time came for them to receive instruction in sewing, they were set to making woolen trousers. A great amount of whispering and tittering went on; then when the work was brought for inspection it was found that, as before these girls had tried to excel all previous attempts. They had procured some bright pieces of calico with which they had trimmed the garments in a style the princess thought quite pretty. Fancy trousers immediately became the rage among the villagers. One young man of dudish propensities came out with a pair that had been worked in rings of various colors down each leg, while his competitor introduced knee breeches made from fancy bed ticking, heavily frilled at the knees and fancily embroidered in bright colors. The village belles, not to be outdone by the young men, discarded the old bone fish-hooks they had been wearing for ear jewelry and adopted the more natty safety-pin, at the same time making for themselves pretty waist belts with can-openers for danglers, and also giving their cloaks a liberal supply of the same.
It was the beginning of a new era among the people. They were awaking from the long sleep they had been taking, ever since the beginning of the Polar race. Old ways that had been followed from the most remote time were to give way to the new conditions that were advancing, and would ultimately end in the improvement and benefit of the people.
The art of cooking has now greatly advanced. Nearly all the young people understand how to cook. It is doubtful if there is an iglo in the village that has not one or two cooks. Eating raw meat is pretty much of the past, its place being filled by bread, slapjacks, soup, and tea or coffee. Nearly all the young people can make their own yeast, and as good a loaf of bread as is to be found anywhere, far surpassing their instructor. Soap and water, and with them cleanliness, have also been introduced. If in traveling along the coast one meets with clean young natives, who ask for a piece of soap, he may know that they are from Tigara, or have spent a season or two in the village; at least so say the persons who have had this experience.
XVIII
CHOKARLUKE
Luke occurs frequently as an affix to many nouns, more especially in the names of individuals, but no one seems able to throw any light on the meaning of it. If it ever had any, it has been lost. In the interpretation of the names of individuals, Katuktorluke becomes Lost Luke; Covewluke, Slop-bucket Luke; Chummerroyluke, Beads-on-the-hair Luke; Tatkeāluke, Moon Luke; and Chokarluke, Whalebone Luke.
Chokarluke was the traditionary strong man of the Polar race. He lived in the neighborhood of Cape Lisburne, near which place the traveler may see two large stones that he has been credited with carrying in his arms and placing in their present position. They were used for the purpose of stretching his seal lines to dry. He is also credited with having been a wonderful pedestrian, having had great power of endurance. At one time the neighbors had killed a whale but were in danger of losing their prize, the strong ocean current threatening to carry it away. Chokarluke, happening along, seized the whale by the tail and lifted it half out of the water and upon the ice, a deed of strength far surpassing any of our modern strong men's feats and well earning for him the name of Whalebone Luke.
XIX
INTRODUCTION OF TOBACCO
There is always a pleasure in recording the deeds of great men, and although they may have been taking their long sleep for many a year, yet those innovations they introduced still live on. So I take pleasure in introducing "Nanoona" for the first time, and leave it to the historian to record his name along with that of "Bobo," the introducer of roast pork, or to place this story with that of Sir Walter Raleigh's involuntary bath.
The inhabitants of the Arctic Circle are as fond of their smoke as any other race of men, but the high price of the first tobacco necessitated the invention of the small pipe, and also the method of smoking which is peculiar to the Inupash. The tobacco is first cut fine, then the bowl of the pipe, which holds about as much as a thirty-two cartridge shell, has a pellet of fine wood shavings crowded into its base. A small amount of tobacco is then introduced, about enough to give one or two puffs, and a piece of tinder being placed at the edge, fire is struck with a flint and steel. The smoker is now ready to enjoy himself; he takes a long pull and then tries to swallow the smoke, but lower down there is an objection; the stomach refuses to be considered a smoke bag, and, puckering up, does all in its power to repel the intrusion, while above the act of swallowing is persisted in. At last the stomach gains the victory and the smoke is expelled, the smoker coughs, wipes his eyes and puts the pipe away. He has had a good smoke.
Nanoona's DescendantsNanoona's Descendants
It was during the earlier days of the past century that a small amount of the strong Russian tobacco found its way through Siberia and across the Behring Straits. "Nanoona" was a great traveler for those days, and had ventured as far south as what is now known as the Seward Peninsula. Obtaining some of the tobacco, he returned to his home, and the news soon spread that "Nanoona" could actually swallow fire and then belch forth smoke. The thing seemed incredible; it even surpassed the doings of the wonderful "Ongootkoot" who was very successful in driving off eclipses, thereby saving the villagers from some terrible catastrophes. At the appointed time the people gathered, filling "Nanoona's" iglo; even the roof was packed. The seal-gut window having been removed, the people gathered there several rows deep, all desirous of witnessing the wonderful act.
Our hero no doubt felt the importance of the occasion and filled his pipe more times than his discretion should have allowed; first came the stage of exhilaration, the world looked beautiful, and he spoke entertainingly of the traditions of the past, a subject that is always interesting to an Inupash, even if he has already heard them many times; then came the well-known after effects, which nearly all beginners with the weed experience.
His transient indisposition served as no warning to the people; neither did the odor of the smoke that they had been forced to shield their noses from. Had they not seen him swallow fire and belch forth smoke? Had they not seen him during the stage of exhilaration? They all wished to pass through a similar experience, but tobacco was scarce and held at a fabulous price. One pull at the pipe was worth two dressed sealskins; or a pipeful of the weed, affording two good swallows, cost two deerskins. Only the wealthy could afford such a luxury.
"Nanoona" has long since gone to his rest, but his name remains green among the villagers. To-day the traveler can see his elevated grave at Tigmeārook, about six miles east of the village of Tigara, at which place his career came to a sudden end through the agency of an arrow driven by the bow of an enemy.
XX
WINTER EVENINGS AND STORIES
The inhabitants of the busy world have no end of amusements, besides their newspapers and magazines with which to pass their leisure hours. It is not so with the less fortunate inhabitants of the far north. Their winter evenings are long and their homes but dimly lighted by the seal-oil lamps. To the uninitiated, it would seem a dreary sight, yet the people have their enjoyment in the shape of an occasional dance, a most innocent form of amusement, being as much singing as dancing, accompanied by the beating of the one-headed drum.
The dancer stands up and makes a few graceful movements with the arms, as well as limbering at the knee joints, then sits down. Others go through the same motions in their turn, while the audience does the singing. Their main festivities occur at the full of the moon, in the month of "Nekanok-kochevik," corresponding to our December, at which time, besides the dancing and feasting, presents are given by the leading men.
Their other form of amusement is story-telling. The stories may be old, but that makes no difference to an Inupash, he is one of the most attentive listeners, no matter how many times he may have heard the same tale before. The repetition has the advantage of fixing the story in the minds of the people, enabling them to retain and pass down their traditions from one generation to another for an immensely long period of time. Outside of their traditions, their stories deal largely with the supernatural in the form of ghosts and fairies. Occasionally, one may hear a fable that apparently has a moral attached. The following are a few of the stories that mothers interest their children with, and that are eagerly listened to by the older ones also:—
Alluguā
Little Alluguā had been born blind. It had worried his father and mother greatly, for they knew when he grew to manhood he would not be able to hunt and support himself. They hoped as he grew older he might yet receive his eyesight, although both eyes were white and sightless. At last when he became seven or eight years of age his parents gave up all hope.
The summer season was approaching, a time when all the villagers would be going on their annual trips, some to the north in quest of deer, while others would go to the east, down the Kotzebue Sound, where they would meet natives of other tribes, and do their trading. All would leave the village; the place would be entirely abandoned. Little Alluguā's father and mother, in talking the matter over with some of the neighbors, came to the conclusion that the child was hopelessly blind and would never be able to support himself. It was therefore decided to leave him behind. The parents placed him in their iglo, laying heavy whale jaws over the window and blocking up the entrance, thus leaving no way of escape. They then left him without food, expecting him to starve to death during their absence.
The little fellow sat on the floor, with his head bowed on his breast, feeling very bad at the fate which awaited him. He was growing very hungry and had apparently no means of relief. Everything was dark to him. His hunger grew still worse, with a terrible gnawing sensation in his stomach. If he could only get something to eat! and his thirst was terrible! He was beside himself with despair; if death would only come, what a relief it would be. It seemed a terribly long time that he sat there in the darkness with his head bowed on his breast.
At last he heard a noise; what could it mean? He knew that none of the villagers would return for a long time. It must be one of those hallucinations that hunger and thirst often create. Then the noise came nearer, and a little woman coming up through the floor asked him why he was there and what made him so sad. He soon told the story of how he had been left to starve to death and how he was suffering for food and water. If he could only get a drink from the spring near by, how it would relieve the terrible parched condition of his mouth and throat! Water, oh, if he only had some water!
"Never mind," said the little woman, "you shall not starve to death," and she placed by his side some nice pieces of whale meat and black skin, with a pailful of clear cold water. How Alluguā did enjoy the water, and then the whale meat and black skin! He had never in all his life tasted anything half so good. Every day the little woman brought a fresh supply of meat and water; she knew just what to choose so that he would gain strength and grow.
At last the fall season came, bringing with it the colder weather. The villagers were returning from their summer trips, and Alluguā's father and mother were among the arrivals. Soon he heard some one moving the barricade from the entrance, then his mother looked up through the hole in the floor. She was greatly surprised to see him alive and well; here was a fat, healthy boy instead of the emaciated body of her son, who, she supposed, had starved to death during her absence.
"Why you are alive and hearty, what makes you so fleshy?" she remarked, "and how you have grown!" Alluguā did not tell his mother that a good little fairy had been feeding him. He simply said that the food and water she had left had proved very nourishing. After that his parents decided that as he would not die they would take care of him.
In time he grew up and was approaching manhood, when he expressed a desire to join one of the whaling crews. His parents said no; he was blind and would simply be in the way of the whalers. But he persisted, declaring that he would kill a whale. At last they consented, and he went with one of the crews. He had not been long out when he insisted that he should be placed at the head of the boat with the whaling spear. The men at first refused, but ultimately acceded to his request by placing him at the head with the spear. Just then a whale coming along quite close, they told him to dart, but he said no; that was not the right one, as it passed off. Then the ice began crowding in and the canoe was quickly hauled out. The men stepped back to a safe place, but Alluguā stayed at the edge.
After a while he began beckoning to the men to come forward. But no, they would not, for they thought it was simply the crowding ice he heard. Later on, the ice moved off and another whale came quite close. The men again placed the spear in his hand and told him to dart, but he said no; that was not the right one. The ice again crowding in as before, he took his stand at the edge. After listening a while he beckoned for the men to come forward. At last they did so, remarking among themselves, that it was only the crowding of the ice he heard. He stood for a moment listening, then darted the spear, but instead of striking the ice, it went under, and the line with the floats was drawn out with great rapidity. He had darted a large whale which was soon dispatched.
Before the season closed he had killed three more, and the following year he did the same thing again; so that instead of being a poor blind man, a care to his parents, Alluguā proved to be one of the most successful whalers in the village.
Caterpillar
It is not long since ghosts and fairies were fully believed in in the far north, as they were in the olden days in our more civilized countries. The men and women who claimed they had seen such apparitions were so common that no one doubted their statements or gave the subject an investigation, but would listen patiently, no matter how extravagant the story might be. Even to-day, superstition seems to exist among the older people, although there is scarcely any one who would care to assert that he had seen such a thing at a very recent date. In 1892 a young woman came to me with the information that the previous evening an "Ongootkoot" had seen a black man and boy walk slowly across the land, then out upon the ocean, where they disappeared.
Quite a while back, a man and his wife had gone into the interior country in search of deer. The man was meeting with unusually good success in his hunting, while the woman busied herself with cutting and packing willow brush for the camp. One day while at her task, happening to look up, she saw a woman near at hand with a very fine deerskin coat on. It was all fancily trimmed with wolverine and other furs, making one of those beautiful coats any woman would love to possess. At the same time, looking down at her own shabby artege, she sighed and remarked to the stranger, "What a beautiful coat you have." The woman smilingly replied, "Yes, how would you like to have it?" Of course she was delighted with the proposition, and when the stranger offered to make the exchange, was only too glad to accept the offer. The exchange was soon made, but on putting on the new coat she was instantly transformed into a caterpillar. The stranger put on the old coat, then picking up the bundle of willow brush went to the camp, where she took the place of the real wife.
The hunter, on returning, remarked to his supposed wife, "Why, dear, you don't look the same as usual, and you have a different odor." To which she replied, "Why, husband, you know I have been working hard all day, cutting and packing brush and have become overheated." The man, not being very inquisitive, accepted the explanation and was satisfied, especially so as there was a nice hot dinner awaiting him.
So matters continued for some time.
The real wife felt terribly over her misfortune, wishing sincerely she had never coveted the other woman's coat. She slowly crawled back toward the camp, but, make the greatest exertion she could, it was very slow work. Then, when she thought she had nearly arrived at the place where her husband was, he and the fraudulent wife would break camp and move to a new site. It was such slow work crawling; besides, the poor wife had several narrow escapes from hungry birds, only escaping by hiding in the crevice of a rock or under a blade of grass. The season was advancing and her husband would soon return to the village; she must hurry or be left behind. So crawling night and day, she at last reached the camp and managed to crawl in among the deerskins, as they were being lashed preparatory to taking them home.
On arriving in the village she could only crawl around and see her friends, but no one took any notice of her. She crawled around the iglo and watched the fraudulent wife making love to her husband. It filled her with jealousy and indignation, but she could do nothing to help matters. The season was arriving when she would turn into a cocoon for her long winter's sleep. If something did not happen quickly, her hopes would be blasted forever. Crawling up over the place where her mother was cooking, the caterpillar accidentally fell down at the edge of the fire, burst open and the woman escaped from her prison. Her mother was greatly surprised. Explanations were made, and the fraudulent wife was soon turned into a caterpillar. Crawling off she has never since been heard from, and may be crawling yet, as far as any of the villagers know.