see captionFig. 526.Ball. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6822.)The ball (Fig. 526) is most frequently used in summer. It is made of sealskin stuffed with moss and neatly trimmed with skin straps. One man throws the ball among the players, whose object it is to keep it always in motion without allowing it to touch the ground. Another game of ball I have seen played by men only. A leather ball filled with hard clay is propelled with a whip, the lash of which is tied up in a coil. Every man has his whip and is to hit the ball and so prevent his fellow players from getting at it.A third game at ball called igdlukitaqtung is played with small balls tossed up alternately from the right to the left, one always being in the air. Songs used in the game will be found in the last pages of this paper.An amusement of women and children is to point successively on the forehead, the cheek, and the chin and to pronounce as rapidly as possible sulubautiχu´tika, tudliχu´tika, tadliχu´tika, tudliχú´tika, i.e., the forehead, the cheek, the chin, the cheek.Young children play with toy sledges, kayaks, boats, bows and arrows, and dolls. The last are made in the same way by all the tribes, a wooden body being clothed with scraps of deerskin cut in the same way as the clothing of men. Fig. 527 shows dolls in the dress of the Oqomiut; Fig. 528, in that of the Akudnirmiut.see captionFig. 527.Dolls in dress of the Oqomiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1see captionFig. 528.Dolls in dress of the Akudnirmiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1In summer children and grown up people exercise by sitting down on their knees in a large circle and simultaneously jumping up and down, by kneeling and holding their toes in their hands and trying to outdo one another in running in this position, &c.A favorite amusement during the long winter nights is telling tales and composing songs. Old traditions are always related in a highly ceremonious manner. The narrator takes off his outer jacket, pulls the hood over his head, and sits down in the rear part of the hut, turning his face toward the wall, and then tells the story slowly and solemnly. All the stories are related in a very abridged form, the substance being supposed to be known. The form is always the same, and should the narrator happen to say one word otherwise than is customary he will be corrected by the listeners.Children tell one another fables and sing short songs. Comic songs making fun of any person are great favorites. Details on the poetry and music of the Eskimo will be found further on.Parry’s description of the games and sports practiced by the Iglulirmiut is so interesting that I insert it here (II, p. 538):On an occasion when most of the men were absent from the huts on a sealing excursion, the women joined in playing, one of them being the chief performer. Being requested to amuse the rest, she suddenly unbound her hair, platted it, tied both ends together to keep it out of her way, and then stepping out into the middle of the hut, began to make the most hideous faces that can be conceived, by drawing both lips into her mouth, poking forward her chin, squinting frightfully, occasionally shutting one eye, and moving her head from side to side as if her neck had been dislocated. This exhibition, which they call ajokitarpoq, and which is evidently considered an accomplishment that few of them possess in perfection, distorts every feature in the most horrible manner imaginable, and would, I think, put our most skillful horse-collar grinners quite out of countenance.This performance is identical with one described later (p. 578) as practiced during the meals in summer.The next performance consists in looking steadfastly and gravely forward and repeating the words tăbā’-tăbā’; kjaibo, kjaibo; kebang inutovik, kebang inutovik; amatama, amatama, in the order in which they are here placed, but each at least four times, and always by a peculiar modulation of the voice speaking them in pairs as they are coupled above. The sound is made to proceed from the throat in a way much resembling ventriloquism, to which art it is indeed an approach. After the last amatama she always pointed with her finger toward her body, and pronounced the word angakoq, steadily retaining her gravity for five or six seconds, and then bursting into a loud laugh, in which she was joined by all the rest. The women sometimes produce a much more guttural and unnatural sound, repeating principally the word ikeri-ikeri, coupling them as before, and staring in such a manner as to make their eyes appear ready to burst out of their sockets with the exertion. Two or more of them will sometimes stand up face to face, and with great quickness and regularity respond to each other, keeping such exact time that the sound appears to come from one throat instead of several. Very few of the females are possessed of this accomplishment, which is called pitkusiraqpoq, and it is not uncommon to see several of the younger females practising it. A third part of the game, distinguished by the word kaitikpoq, consists only in falling on each knee alternately,a piece of agility which they perform with tolerable quickness, considering the bulky and awkward nature of their dress.***Then the same woman came forward, and letting her arms hang down loosely and bending her body very much forward, shook herself with extreme violence, as if her whole frame had been strongly convulsed, uttering at the same time, in a wild tone of voice, some of the unnatural sounds before mentioned.This being at an end, a new exhibition was commenced in which ten or twelve women took a part, and which our gentlemen compared to blind man’s buff. A circle being formed, and a boy dispatched to look out at the door of the hut, a woman placed herself in the center, and, after making a variety of guttural noises for about half a minute, shut her eyes, and ran about till she had taken hold of one of the others, whose business it then became to take her station in the center, so that almost every woman in her turn occupied this post, and in her own peculiar way, either by distortion of countenance or other gestures, performed her part in the game. This continued three-quarters of an hour, and, from the precaution of placing a lookout who was withdrawn when it was over, as well as from some very expressive signs which need not here be mentioned, there is reason to believe that it is usually followed by certain indecencies, with which their husbands are not to be acquainted.***The most common amusement however, and to which their husbands made no objection, they performed at Winter Island expressly for our gratification. The females, being collected to the number of ten or twelve, stood in as large a circle as the hut would admit, with a man in the center. He began by a sort of half howling, half singing noise, which appeared as if designed to call the attention of the women, the latter soon commencing the Amna Aya song. This they continued without variety, remaining quite still while the man walked round within the circle; his body was rather bent forward, his eyes sometimes closed, his arms constantly moving up and down, and now and then hoarsely vociferating a word or two as if to increase the animation of the singers, who, whenever he did this, quitted the chorus and rose into the words of the song. At the end of ten minutes they all left off at once, and after one minute’s interval commenced a second act precisely similar and of equal duration, the man continuing to invoke their muse as before. A third act which followed this, varied frequently towards the close only in his throwing his feet up before and clapping his hands together, by which exertion he was thrown into a violent perspiration. He then retired, desiring a young man (who as we were informed was the only individual of several then present thus qualified) to take his place in the center as master of the ceremonies, when the same antics as before were again gone through. After this description it will scarcely be necessary to remark that nothing can be poorer in its way than this tedious singing recreation, which, as well as in everything in which dancing is concerned, they express by the word mumipoq. They seem, however, to take great delight in it; and even a number of the men as well as all the children crept into the hut by degrees to peep at the performance.The Eskimo women and children often amuse themselves with a game not unlike our “skip-rope.” This is performed by two women holding the ends of a line and whirling it regularly round and round, while a third jumps over it in the middle according to the following order. She commences by jumping twice on both feet, then alternately with the right and left, and next four times with the feet slipped one behind the other, the rope passing once round at each jump. After this she performs a circle on the ground, jumping about half a dozen times in the course of it, which bringing her to her original position, the same thing is repeated as often as it can be done without entangling the line. One or two of the women performed this with considerable agility and adroitness, considering the clumsiness of their boots and jackets, and seemed to pride themselves in some degree on the qualification.A second kind of this game consists in two women holding a long rope by its ends and whirling it round in such a manner over the heads of two others standing close together near the middle of the bight, that each of these shall jump over it alternately. The art therefore, which is indeed considerable, depends more on those whirling the rope than on the jumpers, who are, however, obliged to keep exact time in order to be ready for the rope passing under their feet.Of all these games I observed only the one called pitkusiraqpoq by Parry, which I saw played several times at Cumberland Sound. (See Appendix,Note 3.)While in times of plenty the home life is quite cheerful, the house presents a sad and gloomy appearance if stormy weather prevents the men from hunting. The stores are quickly consumed, one lamp after another is extinguished, and everybody sits motionless in the dark hut. Nevertheless the women and men do not stop humming their monotonous amna aya and their stoicism in enduring the pangs of hunger is really wonderful. At last, when starvation is menacing the sufferers, the most daring of the men resolves to try his luck. Though the storm may rage over the icy plain he sets out to go sealing. For hours he braves the cold and stands waiting and watching at the breathing hole until he hears the blowing of the seal and succeeds in killing it.When those who have remained at home hear the sound of the returning sledge, they rush out of the houses to meet it. Quickly they help the bold hunter to get on shore. The sledge is unloaded, the seal dragged into the house, and every one joyfully awaits his share. The animal is cut up, every household receiving a piece of meat and blubber. The gloomy huts are again lighted up and the pots, which had been out of use for some days, are again hung up over the lamps.If the hunter, however, has tried in vain to procure food, if the storm does not subside, the terrors of famine visit the settlement. The dogs are the first to fall victims to the pressing hunger, and if the worst comes cannibalism is resorted to. But all these occurrences are spoken of with the utmost horror. In such cases children particularly are killed and eaten. Fortunately, however, such occurrences are very rare.VISITING.As soon as the ice has consolidated in winter a lively intercourse springs up between the settlements. Friends visit one another, trading excursions are undertaken, and almost every few days visitors arrive at the village. They are welcomed with great hospitality. The sledge is unloaded and the dogs are fed by the host. The visitor is led into the hut, served with the choicest pieces of meat, and the hostess puts his clothing in order. In the winter these visits are generally short, rarely lasting more than a few days.Longer journeys are postponed until spring, when food can be procured more easily. These journeys are planned a long time before they are made. While the families generally leave what they can spare of their household goods in winter at their summer settlement, they bring away everything they possess to the winter village if they intend to visit a neighboring tribe in the spring. In April or May they leave their snow houses; the tent poles and the whole of their goods are loaded upon the sledge, only the boats being left behind in charge of some friend, and then they start upon their long, lonely journey. On the first day they do not travel far, but make the first halt after about a twelve-mile journey. As the load is heavy the men and women sit on the top of the sledges only to rest. The driver walks alongside and the women lead the way, the dogs pulling more willingly if they see somebody ahead of the sledge. At night it is not unloaded, only those things being taken out which are necessary for building a small tent and for cooking. In order to protect the sledge from the attacks of the dogs, the pitu (seep. 530) is taken out and fastened to an eye cut into the ice with the end of the spear. After having traveled about three days a longer halt is made; the sledge is unloaded, the dogs are unharnessed, and the men go out hunting in order to procure food for the dogs and for themselves. Thus they slowly proceed until they at last reach the end of their journey. Here they settle down with the friends whom they have come to visit, establish a hut of their own, and spend a whole year with them. In the following spring they retrace their journey to their own homes. Journeys of four to five hundred miles in one spring are not of rare occurrence; longer journeys, however, frequently last for years.A journey of two hundred miles, going and coming, is sometimes accomplished in one season. For such a journey they would set out in March or April, leaving all their goods behind, and live with the friends whom they visit for a month or two, returning about June. While on the visit the visitors help their friends to provide for their families.see captionFig. 529.Modern snow goggles, of wood. (National Museum, Washington. 29978.) ½In traveling in the spring the Eskimo always use snow goggles to protect themselves from snow blindness. The modern ones (Fig. 529), which are made of wood and have a shade and a narrow slit for each eye, are very effective. The old design is represented in Fig. 530, the specimen being made of ivory.see captionFig. 530.Old form of snow goggles, of ivory, found in Idjorituaqtuin, Cumberland Sound.(Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6833.)Long journeys are sometimes made in summer, several families traveling together in their boats. As, however, the open season is very short in many parts of Northeastern America, spring journeys are more frequently made.When traveling by boat the tent poles, skin covers, and all the household goods are stowed away in the bottom. The women do the pulling, three or four working at each oar, while a man sits on the stern board steering with a paddle. They move on at their leisure,stopping whenever they are tired or when a seal is seen blowing near the boat. The kayaks are tied to the stern and towed along. Children and dogs lie about in the bottom of the boat. In the center there is a tub containing all kinds of provisions, and every now and then they take some refreshment from it. During the nights the tents are erected at suitable points. The natives are well acquainted with these, and, if they are not compelled by severe weather to seek shelter at the nearest point, always visit the same places. These have a smooth, sloping beach, fresh water, and dry, gravelly places in which the tents are built.SOCIAL CUSTOMS IN SUMMER.When the rays of the sun begin to be warmer and the roofs of the snow houses tumble down the natives live in a very uncomfortable way until a sufficient number of sealskins are procured to build a tent. Sometimes a family live under a roof too small to cover themall, though they sit as close as possible, and too low to permit them to sit upright; but, as seals are basking everywhere on the ice, this state of affairs does not last long. The women split a number of large skins and dry them on the snow, and by the middle of May they can build a pretty large tent; but it is not until they settle permanently at the place of the summer village that the large tent is sewed and put up.At this season salmon and venison form the staple food of the Eskimo. The old men, women, and children, who stay at the lakes or at the salmon rivers, depend almost entirely upon this food. They fish and eat the salmon in a raw as well as in a cooked state. Birds are caught and eaten raw. The surplus salmon are split and dried on poles erected for the purpose. Deer shoulders, legs, and backs are also cut into thin pieces and dried. Sometimes the dried fish and venison are deposited in stone caches for later use, but most of it is eaten in summer, especially when the Eskimo go traveling. When the men go deer hunting they take a supply of dried salmon with them, and thus can stay out for a week or even longer. When a deer is killed it is skinned at once, the legs being slit and the belly opened. The paunch is carefully tied up, as the contents are a favorite dish of the Eskimo. The head, the legs, and the ribs are cut off and after being piled up the whole is covered with heavy stones, only the horns protruding from the top of the depot. The hams and the skin are generally carried to the hut at once, and, if the distance is not too great or the carcass can be reached with sledges or boats, the whole animal is brought home. Large depots are only made in the fall, when there is no danger of the meat spoiling.At this season the natives visit deer passes and lakes, near which they establish their huts. The tents and all the household goods are packed up in heavy bundles, some of which are carried by the dogs, the load hanging on both sides of the back; others, by men and women, being secured by one strap which passes over the forehead and by another which passes over the breast. Their strength and their perseverance in carrying heavy loads over long distances are remarkable.The social life in the summer settlements is rather different from that in winter. At this season the families do not cook their own meals, but a single one provides for the whole settlement. The day before it is her turn to cook, the woman goes to the hills to fetch shrubs for the fire. Three stones are put up near the hut as a fireplace, the opening facing the wind. The kettle is placed on the top of it and the fire is fed with shrubs and blubber. When the meal is ready the master of the house stands beside it, crying Ujo! Ujo! (boiled meat) and everybody comes out of the hut provided with a knife. The dish is carried to a level place and the men sit down around it in one circle, while the women form another. Then largelumps of meat are passed around, everybody cutting off a piece and taking a swallow of the soup, which is passed around in a large leather cup. These dinners, which are held in the evening after the return from the hunt, are almost always enlivened by a mimic performance. A man or an old woman sits down in the center of the circle and amuses the assembly by singing and dancing or by making faces. A favorite performance is one in which a man, with blackened face and with a thong tied around his head, writhes and makes odd grimaces.After dinner the men sit chatting or gambling before the huts, while the women and children amuse themselves by running about, playing at ball, or dancing.A strict religious custom forbids the Eskimo to work on the deerskins which are obtained in summer before the ice has formed; they are only dried and tied up in large bundles. In the fall, when on their way to the winter settlements, the Eskimo travel rather quickly. The boats are piled up with the spoils of the summer hunt and the place of destination is generally reached before the stormy weather sets in.When it gets colder short excursions are made by boat in order to collect shrubs for covering the tents. Several families join in building a common hut, and on a fine day the old tents are torn down and the tent poles are converted into a strong frame, which is covered with a double roof. The bed and the platforms for the lamps are raised and henceforth all the cooking is done inside.As soon as the first seals are caught with the harpoon the deer skins are prepared. If they were deposited under stones in summer, sledges set out to bring them to the settlements, and then they are distributed for winter clothing. According to Hall the western tribes are in the habit of spreading all the skins on one place and distributing them among the inhabitants of the settlement. I did not observe the same custom among the eastern tribes. Then they devote themselves to dressing the skins. On Davis Strait this work falls to the share of the women, while among the Hudson Bay tribes it is done by the men. At this season the great religious feasts of the natives are celebrated, which announce, as it were, the commencement of winter.SOCIAL ORDER AND LAWS.The social order of the Eskimo is entirely founded on the family and on the ties of consanguinity and affinity between the individual families. Generally children are betrothed when very young, but these engagements, not being strictly binding, may be broken off at any time. When the children reach maturity the girl learns the duties of a woman and the boy those of a man. As soon as he isable to provide for a family and she can do the work falling to her share, they are allowed to marry. It happens frequently that the young man’s parents are unwilling to allow him to provide for his parents-in-law, and thenhemay be rejected at any moment. Usually the young couple must begin housekeeping with the young wife’s family and the young man, if belonging to a strange tribe, must join that of his wife. It is not until after his parents-in-law are dead that he is entirely master of his own actions. Though the betrothal be entered into in the days of childhood the bride must be bought from the parents by some present. In other instances the men choose their wives when grown up and sometimes a long wooing precedes the marriage. The consent of the bride’s parents, or, if they are dead, that of her brothers, is always necessary. Marriages between relatives are forbidden: cousins, nephew and niece, aunt and uncle, are not allowed to intermarry. There is, however, no law to prevent a man from marrying two sisters. It is remarkable that Lyon states just the reverse (p. 353). I am sure, however, that my statements are correct in reference to the Davis Strait tribes.Should the newly married couple join the wife’s family this would serve as a check to polygamy, which, however, is quite allowable. It is only when the new family settles on its own account that a man is at full liberty to take additional wives, among whom one is always considered the chief wife. Monogamy is everywhere more frequent than polygamy, only a very few men having two or more wives. According to Ross polyandry occurs with the Netchillirmiut (II, pp. 356, 373). As long as the mother-in-law lives with the young family the wives are subordinate to her, while the mothers of both parties are independent of each other. No example came to my notice of both parents living with the newly married couple. Sometimes the man and wife do not set up a new household at once, but each remains at home. The property necessary for establishing a new family is the hunting gear of the man and the knife, scraper, lamp, and cooking pot of the women.A strange custom permits a man to lend his wife to a friend for a whole season or even longer and to exchange wives as a sign of friendship. On certain occasions it is even commanded by a religious law (seep. 605). Nevertheless I know of some instances of quarrels arising from jealousy. Lyon states, however, that this passion is unknown among the Iglulirmiut (p. 355). The husband is not allowed to maltreat or punish his wife; if he does she may leave him at any time, and the wife’s mother can always command a divorce. Both are allowed to remarry as soon as they like, even the slightest pretext being sufficient for a separation.I may be allowed to refer once more to the division of labor between the man and woman. The principal part of the man’s work is to provide for his family by hunting, i.e., for his wife and children andfor his relatives who have no provider. He must drive the sledge in traveling, feed the dogs, build the house, and make and keep in order his hunting implements, the boat cover and seal floats excepted. The woman has to do the household work, the sewing, and the cooking. She must look after the lamps, make and mend the tent and boat covers, prepare the skins, and bring up young dogs. It falls to her share to make the inner outfit of the hut, to smooth the platforms, line the snow house, &c. On Davis Strait the men cut up all kinds of animals which they have caught; on Hudson Bay, however, the women cut up the seals. There the men prepare the deerskins, which is done by the women among the eastern tribes. Everywhere the women have to do the rowing in the large boats while the man steers. Cripples who are unable to hunt do the same kind of work as women.Children are treated very kindly and are not scolded, whipped, or subjected to any corporal punishment. Among all the tribes infanticide has been practiced to some extent, but probably only females or children of widows or widowers have been murdered in this way, the latter on account of the difficulty of providing for them. It is very remarkable that this practice seems to be quite allowable among them, while in Greenland it is believed that the spirit of the murdered child is turned into an evil spirit, called angiaq, and revenges the crime (Rink, p. 45).Besides the children properly belonging to the family, adopted children, widows, and old people are considered part of it. Adoption is carried on among this people to a great extent.If for any reason a man is unable to provide for his family or if a woman cannot do her household work, the children are adopted by a relative or a friend, who considers them as his own children. In the same way widows with their children are adopted by their nearest relative or by a friend and belong to the family, though the woman retains her own fireplace.It is difficult to decide which relative is considered the nearest, but the ties of consanguinity appear to be much closer than those of affinity. If a woman dies the husband leaves his children with his parents-in-law and returns to his own family, and if a man dies his wife returns to her parents or her brothers, who are the nearest relatives next to parents or children. When a woman dies, however, after the children are grown up the widower will stay with them. In case of a divorce the children generally remain with the mother.As a great part of the personal property of a man is destroyed at his death or placed by his grave, the objects which may be acquired by inheritance are few. These are the gun, harpoon, sledge, dogs, kayak, boat, and tent poles of the man and the lamp and pots of the woman. The first inheritor of these articles is the eldest son livingwith the parents. Sons and daughters having households of their own do not participate in the inheritance. An elder adopted son has a preference over a younger son born of the marriage. Details of the laws which relate to inheritance are unknown to me.Sometimes men are adopted who may almost be considered servants. Particularly bachelors without any relations, cripples who are not able to provide for themselves, or men who have lost their sledges and dogs are found in this position. They fulfill minor occupations, mend the hunting implements, fit out the sledges, feed the dogs, &c.; sometimes, however, they join the hunters. They follow the master of the house when he removes from one place to another, make journeys in order to do his commissions, and so on. The position, however, is a voluntary one, and therefore these men are not less esteemed than the self dependent providers.Strangers visiting their friends for a season are generally in a similar position, though they receive a wife if the host happens to have more than one; if the friend has hunting gear, a sledge, and dogs of his own, he can arrange a separate fireplace in the hut.In summer most families have each their own tent, but in the fall from two to four join in building a house. Frequently the parents live on one side, the family of the son-in-law on the other, and a friend or relative in a small recess. Sometimes two houses have a common entrance or the passages communicate with one another. The inhabitants of both parts usually live quite independently of one another, while the oldest man of every house has some influence over his housemates.If the distance between the winter and the summer settlement is very great or when any particular knowledge is required to find out the haunts of game, there is a kind of chief in the settlement, whose acknowledged authority is, however, very limited. He is called the pimain (i.e., he who knows everything best) or the issumautang. His authority is virtually limited to the right of deciding on the proper time to shift the huts from one place to the other, but the families are not obliged to follow him. At some places it seems to be considered proper to ask the pimain before moving to another settlement and leaving the rest of the tribe. He may ask some men to go deer hunting, others to go sealing, but there is not the slightest obligation to obey his orders.Every family is allowed to settle wherever it likes, visiting a strange tribe being the only exception. In such a case the newcomer has to undergo a ceremony which consists chiefly in a duel between a native of the place and himself. If he is defeated he runs the risk of being killed, by those among whom he has come (see pp.465,609).There are numerous regulations governing hunting, determining to whom the game belongs, the obligations of the successful hunter towards the inhabitants of the village, &c.When a seal is brought to the huts everybody is entitled to a share of the meat and blubber, which is distributed by the hunter himself or carried to the individual huts by his wife. This custom is only practiced when food is scarce. In time of plenty only the housemates receive a share of the animal.A ground seal belongs to all the men who take part in the hunt, the skin especially being divided among them. A walrus is cut up at once into as many parts as there are hunters, the one who first struck it having the choice of the parts and receiving the head. A whale belongs to the whole settlement and its capture is celebrated by a feast (p. 603).A bear or a young seal belongs to the man who first saw it, no matter who kills it.Lost objects must be restored to the owner if he is known, game, however, excepted; for example, if a harpoon line breaks and the animal escapes, but is found later by another man, the game belongs to the latter. In Hudson Bay he is also allowed to keep the harpoon and line.There is no way of enforcing these unwritten laws and no punishment for transgressors except the blood vengeance. It is not a rare occurrence that a man who is offended by another man takes revenge by killing the offender. It is then the right and the duty of the nearest relative of the victim to kill the murderer. In certain quarrels between the Netchillirmiut and the Aivillirmiut, in which the murderer himself could not be apprehended, the family of the murdered man has killed one of the murderer’s relations in his stead. Such a feud sometimes lasts for a long time and is even handed down to a succeeding generation. It is sometimes settled by mutual agreement. As a sign of reconciliation both parties touch each other’s breasts, saying, Ilaga (my friend) (Klutschak, p. 70).If a man has committed a murder or made himself odious by other outrages he may be killed by any one simply as a matter of justice. The man who intends to take revenge on him must ask his countrymen singly if each agrees in the opinion that the offender is a bad man deserving death. If all answer in the affirmative he may kill the man thus condemned and no one is allowed to revenge the murder. (See Appendix,Note 4.)Their method of carrying on such a feud is quite foreign to our feelings. Strange as it may seem, a murderer will come to visit the relatives of his victim (though he knows that they are allowed to kill him in revenge) and will settle with them. He is kindly welcomed and sometimes lives quietly for weeks and months. Then he is suddenly challenged to a wrestling match (seep. 609), and if defeated is killed, or if victorious he may kill one of the opposite party, or when hunting he is suddenly attacked by his companions and slain.RELIGIOUS IDEAS AND THE ANGAKUNIRN (PRIESTHOOD).Although the principal religious ideas of the Central Eskimo and those of the Greenlanders are identical, their mythologies differ in many material points. I will only mention here that they believe in the Tornait of the old Greenlanders, while the Tornarsuk (i.e., the great Tornaq of the latter) is unknown to them. Their Supreme Being is a woman whose name is Sedna.The first report on this tradition is found in Warmow’s journal of his visit to Cumberland Sound (Missionsblatt aus der Brüdergemeinde, 1859, No. I, p. 19). The editor says:The name of the good spirit is Sanaq or Sana, and he seems to be worshiped as the unknown deity. Nobody could give a definite answer to Brother Warmow’s frequent questions as to what they believed he was. They only said they invoked his help if they were in need. “Then we ask him,” one of the men said, “and Takaq (the moon) gives us what we want, seals and deer.” Another one said that Sanaq had lived on the earth and afterwards ascended to the moon.In Hall’s account of his explorations in Frobisher Bay it is mentioned that the tribes of that country, the Nugumiut, believe in a Supreme Being, and the following statement is given (Hall I, p. 524):There is one Supreme Being, called by them Anguta, who created the earth, sea, and heavenly bodies. There is also a secondary divinity, a woman, the daughter of Anguta, who is called Sidne. She is supposed to have created all things having life, animal and vegetable. She is regarded also as the protecting divinity of the Inuit people. To her their supplications are addressed; to her their offerings are made; while most of their religious rites and superstitious observances have reference to her.It is of great importance that in the journals of Hall’s second journey Sedna is mentioned a few times (spelled Sydney), this being the only proof that she is known among the tribes of Hudson Bay.The statements of the whalers visiting the Sikosuilarmiut and the Akuliarmiut of Hudson Strait correspond with my own observations. Before entering into a comparison of this tradition with similar ones belonging to other tribes, I will give the particulars of the myth as I received it from the Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut.SEDNA AND THE FULMAR.Once upon a time there lived on a solitary shore an Inung with his daughter Sedna. His wife had been dead for some time and the two led a quiet life. Sedna grew up to be a handsome girl and the youths came from all around to sue for her hand, but none of them could touch her proud heart. Finally, at the breaking up of the ice in the spring a fulmar flew from over the ice and wooed Sedna with enticing song. “Come to me,” it said; “come into the land of thebirds, where there is never hunger, where my tent is made of the most beautiful skins. You shall rest on soft bearskins. My fellows, the fulmars, shall bring you all your heart may desire; their feathers shall clothe you; your lamp shall always be filled with oil, your pot with meat.” Sedna could not long resist such wooing and they went together over the vast sea. When at last they reached the country of the fulmar, after a long and hard journey, Sedna discovered that her spouse had shamefully deceived her. Her new home was not built of beautiful pelts, but was covered with wretched fishskins, full of holes, that gave free entrance to wind and snow. Instead of soft reindeer skins her bed was made of hard walrus hides and she had to live on miserable fish, which the birds brought her. Too soon she discovered that she had thrown away her opportunities when in her foolish pride she had rejected the Inuit youth. In her woe she sang: “Aja. O father, if you knew how wretched I am you would come to me and we would hurry away in your boat over the waters. The birds look unkindly upon me the stranger; cold winds roar about my bed; they give me but miserable food. O come and take me back home. Aja.”When a year had passed and the sea was again stirred by warmer winds, the father left his country to visit Sedna. His daughter greeted him joyfully and besought him to take her back home. The father hearing of the outrages wrought upon his daughter determined upon revenge. He killed the fulmar, took Sedna into his boat, and they quickly left the country which had brought so much sorrow to Sedna. When the other fulmars came home and found their companion dead and his wife gone, they all flew away in search of the fugitives. They were very sad over the death of their poor murdered comrade and continue to mourn and cry until this day.Having flown a short distance they discerned the boat and stirred up a heavy storm. The sea rose in immense waves that threatened the pair with destruction. In this mortal peril the father determined to offer Sedna to the birds and flung her overboard. She clung to the edge of the boat with a death grip. The cruel father then took a knife and cut off the first joints of her fingers. Falling into the sea they were transformed into whales, the nails turning into whalebone. Sedna holding on to the boat more tightly, the second finger joints fell under the sharp knife and swam away as seals (Pagomys fœtidus); when the father cut off the stumps of the fingers they became ground seals (Phoca barbata). Meantime the storm subsided, for the fulmars thought Sedna was drowned. The father then allowed her to come into the boat again. But from that time she cherished a deadly hatred against him and swore bitter revenge. After they got ashore, she called her dogs and let them gnaw off the feet and hands of her father while he was asleep. Upon this he cursed himself, his daughter, and the dogs which had maimed him;whereupon the earth opened and swallowed the hut, the father, the daughter, and the dogs. They have since lived in the land of Adlivun, of which Sedna is the mistress.This tradition is handed down in an old song. I shall give the substance of it here, as it differs in some points from the above myth.The story begins when the fulmar carries Sedna to his home and she discovers that he has brought her to a very wretched tent. The next year the father and a brother, whom I find mentioned nowhere else, came to visit her and take her home. The fulmar follows their boat and causes a heavy gale to rise which almost upsets it. The father cuts off her fingers, which are transformed into whales, seals, and ground seals. Besides, he pierces her eye and thus kills her. Then he takes the body into the boat and carries it to the shore. There he lays it on the beach and covers it with a dogskin. When the flood comes in it covers Sedna.Sedna and her father are described by the angakut (seep. 591), who sometimes visit her house or see them when both dwell among the natives, as follows: She is very large and much taller than the Inuit. In accordance with the second form of the tradition she has only one eye and is scarcely able to move. Her father is also a cripple and appears to the dying, whom he grasps with his right hand, which has only three fingers.There is a remarkable resemblance between this tradition and one related by Lyon (p. 362), who describes the religious ideas of the Iglulirmiut, more particularly the genii of one of their angakut. He says that the principal spirits are Aiviliajoq (Ay-willi-ay-oo) or Nuliajoq (Noo-le-ay-oo), a female spirit, and her father, Napajoq (Nap-payok) or Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig). Then he continues:The former is in the first place the mother, protectress, and not unfrequently the monopolist of sea animals, which she sometimes very wantonly confines below, and by that means causes a general scarcity in the upper world. When this is the case, the angakok is persuaded to pay her a visit, and attempt the release of the animals on which his tribe subsist. I know not what ceremonies he performs at the first part of the interview; but as the spell by which the animals are held lies in the hand of the enchantress, the conjuror makes some bold attempts to cut it off, and, according to his success, plenty, more or less, is obtained. If deprived of her nails, the bears obtain their freedom; amputation of the first joint liberates the netsiq (Pagomys); while that of the second loosens the ugjuq (Phoca). Should the knuckles be detached whole herds of walrus rise to the surface; and should the adventurous angakoq succeed in cutting through the lower part of the metacarpal bones, the monstrous whales are disenthralled and delightedly join the other creatures of the deep.***Her house is exceedingly fine, and very like a Kabluna (European) looking-glass(?); and, what is still more attractive to an Eskimo, it contains plenty of food. Immediately within the door of the dwelling, which has a long passage of entrance, is stationed a very large and fierce dog, which has no tail, and whose hinder quarters are black.***Aiviliajoq is described as being equally wonderful in her personal appearance as in her actions. She is very tall and has but one eye, which is the left, the place of the other being covered by a profusion of blackhair. She has one pigtail only, contrary to the established fashion in the upper Eskimo world, which is to wear one on each side of the face, and this is of such immense magnitude, that a man can scarcely grasp it with both hands. Its length is exactly twice that of her arm, and it descends to her knee. The hood of her jacket is always worn up.***Her father has but one arm, the hand of which is covered by a very large mitten of bearskin.***He is not larger than a boy of ten years of age. He bears the character of a good, quiet sort of person and is master of a very nice house, which, however, is not approachable, on account of the vast herds of walrus lying round it, which, with numerous bears, make a terrific howling.***He has nothing to eat, and does not even require it; in which particular he differs widely from his daughter, who has a most voracious appetite. I know not if he is the father of all terrestrial animals, but he is certainly their patron, and withholds them at times from the Eskimo.The name of the father, Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig), i.e., the man with something to cut (with a knife), is very remarkable. Besides, it is interesting that the angakoq who visits the dwelling of Nuliajoq has to cut off her hand in order to liberate the sea animals. In the tradition related in the foregoing, Sedna has another name, to wit, Uinigumisuitung, i.e., she who would not have a husband; her father, Savirqong, i.e., the man with the knife. Often he is only called Anguta, her father.It is evident that Nuliajoq is identical with Sedna, though some peculiarities exist in the tradition as related by Lyon which it is rather difficult to reconcile with the myth as it is related among the Oqomiut. It seems to me that this difficulty arises from the mixing up of the angakoq’s visit to Sedna with the tradition itself. Indeed Lyon only refers to the angakoq’s visit to Nuliajoq, whom he considers a genius of a great angakoq, though he remarks in another place (p. 363) that she “has a boundless command over the lives and destinies of mankind.”The tale of the angakoq’s visit makes the tradition very similar to the Greenland myth of Arnaquagsaq, i.e., the old woman. According to Cranz (p. 264) and to Rink (p. 40) this spirit has her abode in the depth of the ocean. She represents the source of nourishment, supplying the physical wants of mankind. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp, beneath which is placed a vessel which receives the oil that keeps flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, as well as from the dark interior of her hut, she sends out all the animals which serve for food, but in certain cases withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine. The reason for thus withholding the supply was that certain filthy and noxious parasites fastened themselves upon her head, of which she could only be relieved by an angakoq. Then she could be induced again to send out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he (the angakoq) had first to pass the Arsissut and then to cross an abyss, in which, according to the earliest authors, a wheel as slippery as ice was constantlyturning around; then, having safely passed a boiling kettle with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which watch was kept by terrible animals, sometimes described as seals, sometimes as dogs; and, lastly, within the house passage itself, he had to cross an abyss by means of a bridge as narrow as a knife edge.About the same tale is found among the Baffin Land tribes; according to Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., she is called Nanoquagsaq by the Akuliarmiut. She is visited by the angakut, who liberate the sea animals by subduing her or rather by depriving her of a charm by which she restrains the animals.I am inclined to think that the form in which Lyon gives this tradition is not quite correct, but is a mixture of the Sedna myth and that of the angakoq’s visit to Arnaquagsaq. This seems the more probable from a Greenland tale which Dr. Rink kindly communicated to me, in which it is related that the grandfather of Arnaquagsaq cut off her fingers, which were changed into sea animals.For this reason it is most probable that Arnaquagsaq, Sedna, and Nuliajoq proceed from the same myth, though the traditions differ from one another as they are related by the travelers. In the mythology of the central tribes this character has a much more decided influence upon their religious belief than the Arnaquagsaq of the Greenlanders seems to have had.The myth of Sedna is confused with another which treats of the origin of the Europeans and of the Adlet (seep. 637). The legends are in part almost identical. Sedna orders her dog to gnaw off her father’s feet; Uinigumisuitung’s children maim their grandfather in the same way; and, besides, Sedna’s second name is also Uinigumisuitung. In both tales the father is called Savirqong. In Lyon’s Private Journal (p. 363) an important statement is found to the effect that the dog which protects Nuliajoq’s dwelling is by some natives called her husband, by others merely her dog, but that he is generally considered the father of Erqigdlit (identical with Adlet, p. 637) and Qadlunait (Europeans).Finally, I must record the legend of the origin of the walrus and the reindeer, which is closely related to the Sedna tradition. I could never learn any other reason why the use of sea animals and reindeer at the same period should be forbidden, except the fear of offending Sedna. She is represented as disliking the deer, which accordingly are not found in her house. Any reason for this dislike is not given. The Akuliarmiut, however, have a tradition that a woman, most probably Sedna herself, created the walrus and the reindeer during a famine. She opened her belly and took out a small piece of fat which she carried up the hills where it was transformed by a magic spell into a reindeer. As soon as she saw the animal she became frightened and ordered it to run away, but the deer turned upon her and would not go; then she became angry and knocked out its teeth.It turned round at once, but before it could leave she gave it a kick which lopped off its tail. Thus it happened that the deer is deficient as to certain teeth and has scarcely any tail. The woman, however, continued to hate the deer. Afterward she descended to the beach and threw another piece of fat into the water. It was transformed into a walrus, which swam away at once. (According to a communication of Captain Spicer.)The form of this tradition as related by the Akudnirmiut is somewhat different. During a famine a woman (I could not learn whether she was identical with Sedna or not) carried her boots to the hills and transformed them by magic into deer, which spread all over the country. Then she carried her breeches to the sea, where they were changed into walrus. The first deer, however, had large tusks and no horns, while the walrus had horns and no tusks. The Eskimo soon found that this was very dangerous for the hunter, as the deer killed pursuers with their tusks, while the walrus upset the boats. Therefore an old man transferred the horns to the deer and the tusks to the walrus.It is very probable that this woman was Sedna, as the Eskimo affirm that the observances referring to walrus and deer are commanded by Sedna and as the first tradition accounts for her dislike of the deer.I could not find any trace of the tradition reported by Lyon, that Anautalik, Nuliajoq’s father, is the protector of land animals, nor of that of a being to whom he refers by the name of Pukimna (derived from pukiq, the white parts of a deerskin), who lives in a fine country far to the west and who is the immediate protectress of deer, which animals roam in immense herds around her dwelling.Sedna is the mistress of one of the countries to which the souls go after death. It has been related in the foregoing tradition of Sedna and the fulmar that she descended to Adlivun; since that time she has been the mistress of the country, and when invoked as such has the name of Idliragijenget. She has a large house, in which no deerskins are found. There she lives with her father, each occupying one side of it. The father, who is unable to move, lies on the ledge and is covered with old skins. In the entrance across the threshold lies Sedna’s dog watching her house. Like her, the father has only one eye, and he never moves from his place while in the house.The dead, who are seized by Sedna’s father, Anguta, are carried to this dwelling. The dog moves aside only a little, just enough to allow the souls to pass. They have to stay in this dismal abode during a whole year, lying by the side of Anguta, who pinches them.The happy land is heaven and is called Qudlivun (the uppermost ones). It abounds with deer, which are easily caught, and no ice or snow ever visits it.The Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut make a distinction between Adlivun and Adliparmiut. Adlivun means “those who live beneath us;” Adliparmiut, “the inhabitants of the country farthest below us;” and the same difference exists between Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. Though these names intimate the probability that the Eskimo believe in a series of places, located in a descending scale, each below the other, I could not find any more detailed description of the conception.Hall’s observations agree fairly with my own. He says (I, p. 524):
see captionFig. 526.Ball. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6822.)
see caption
Fig. 526.Ball. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6822.)
The ball (Fig. 526) is most frequently used in summer. It is made of sealskin stuffed with moss and neatly trimmed with skin straps. One man throws the ball among the players, whose object it is to keep it always in motion without allowing it to touch the ground. Another game of ball I have seen played by men only. A leather ball filled with hard clay is propelled with a whip, the lash of which is tied up in a coil. Every man has his whip and is to hit the ball and so prevent his fellow players from getting at it.
A third game at ball called igdlukitaqtung is played with small balls tossed up alternately from the right to the left, one always being in the air. Songs used in the game will be found in the last pages of this paper.
An amusement of women and children is to point successively on the forehead, the cheek, and the chin and to pronounce as rapidly as possible sulubautiχu´tika, tudliχu´tika, tadliχu´tika, tudliχú´tika, i.e., the forehead, the cheek, the chin, the cheek.
Young children play with toy sledges, kayaks, boats, bows and arrows, and dolls. The last are made in the same way by all the tribes, a wooden body being clothed with scraps of deerskin cut in the same way as the clothing of men. Fig. 527 shows dolls in the dress of the Oqomiut; Fig. 528, in that of the Akudnirmiut.
see captionFig. 527.Dolls in dress of the Oqomiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1see captionFig. 528.Dolls in dress of the Akudnirmiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1
see captionFig. 527.Dolls in dress of the Oqomiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1
see caption
Fig. 527.Dolls in dress of the Oqomiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1
see captionFig. 528.Dolls in dress of the Akudnirmiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1
see caption
Fig. 528.Dolls in dress of the Akudnirmiut. (Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6702.) 1/1
In summer children and grown up people exercise by sitting down on their knees in a large circle and simultaneously jumping up and down, by kneeling and holding their toes in their hands and trying to outdo one another in running in this position, &c.
A favorite amusement during the long winter nights is telling tales and composing songs. Old traditions are always related in a highly ceremonious manner. The narrator takes off his outer jacket, pulls the hood over his head, and sits down in the rear part of the hut, turning his face toward the wall, and then tells the story slowly and solemnly. All the stories are related in a very abridged form, the substance being supposed to be known. The form is always the same, and should the narrator happen to say one word otherwise than is customary he will be corrected by the listeners.
Children tell one another fables and sing short songs. Comic songs making fun of any person are great favorites. Details on the poetry and music of the Eskimo will be found further on.
Parry’s description of the games and sports practiced by the Iglulirmiut is so interesting that I insert it here (II, p. 538):
On an occasion when most of the men were absent from the huts on a sealing excursion, the women joined in playing, one of them being the chief performer. Being requested to amuse the rest, she suddenly unbound her hair, platted it, tied both ends together to keep it out of her way, and then stepping out into the middle of the hut, began to make the most hideous faces that can be conceived, by drawing both lips into her mouth, poking forward her chin, squinting frightfully, occasionally shutting one eye, and moving her head from side to side as if her neck had been dislocated. This exhibition, which they call ajokitarpoq, and which is evidently considered an accomplishment that few of them possess in perfection, distorts every feature in the most horrible manner imaginable, and would, I think, put our most skillful horse-collar grinners quite out of countenance.
This performance is identical with one described later (p. 578) as practiced during the meals in summer.
The next performance consists in looking steadfastly and gravely forward and repeating the words tăbā’-tăbā’; kjaibo, kjaibo; kebang inutovik, kebang inutovik; amatama, amatama, in the order in which they are here placed, but each at least four times, and always by a peculiar modulation of the voice speaking them in pairs as they are coupled above. The sound is made to proceed from the throat in a way much resembling ventriloquism, to which art it is indeed an approach. After the last amatama she always pointed with her finger toward her body, and pronounced the word angakoq, steadily retaining her gravity for five or six seconds, and then bursting into a loud laugh, in which she was joined by all the rest. The women sometimes produce a much more guttural and unnatural sound, repeating principally the word ikeri-ikeri, coupling them as before, and staring in such a manner as to make their eyes appear ready to burst out of their sockets with the exertion. Two or more of them will sometimes stand up face to face, and with great quickness and regularity respond to each other, keeping such exact time that the sound appears to come from one throat instead of several. Very few of the females are possessed of this accomplishment, which is called pitkusiraqpoq, and it is not uncommon to see several of the younger females practising it. A third part of the game, distinguished by the word kaitikpoq, consists only in falling on each knee alternately,a piece of agility which they perform with tolerable quickness, considering the bulky and awkward nature of their dress.***Then the same woman came forward, and letting her arms hang down loosely and bending her body very much forward, shook herself with extreme violence, as if her whole frame had been strongly convulsed, uttering at the same time, in a wild tone of voice, some of the unnatural sounds before mentioned.This being at an end, a new exhibition was commenced in which ten or twelve women took a part, and which our gentlemen compared to blind man’s buff. A circle being formed, and a boy dispatched to look out at the door of the hut, a woman placed herself in the center, and, after making a variety of guttural noises for about half a minute, shut her eyes, and ran about till she had taken hold of one of the others, whose business it then became to take her station in the center, so that almost every woman in her turn occupied this post, and in her own peculiar way, either by distortion of countenance or other gestures, performed her part in the game. This continued three-quarters of an hour, and, from the precaution of placing a lookout who was withdrawn when it was over, as well as from some very expressive signs which need not here be mentioned, there is reason to believe that it is usually followed by certain indecencies, with which their husbands are not to be acquainted.***The most common amusement however, and to which their husbands made no objection, they performed at Winter Island expressly for our gratification. The females, being collected to the number of ten or twelve, stood in as large a circle as the hut would admit, with a man in the center. He began by a sort of half howling, half singing noise, which appeared as if designed to call the attention of the women, the latter soon commencing the Amna Aya song. This they continued without variety, remaining quite still while the man walked round within the circle; his body was rather bent forward, his eyes sometimes closed, his arms constantly moving up and down, and now and then hoarsely vociferating a word or two as if to increase the animation of the singers, who, whenever he did this, quitted the chorus and rose into the words of the song. At the end of ten minutes they all left off at once, and after one minute’s interval commenced a second act precisely similar and of equal duration, the man continuing to invoke their muse as before. A third act which followed this, varied frequently towards the close only in his throwing his feet up before and clapping his hands together, by which exertion he was thrown into a violent perspiration. He then retired, desiring a young man (who as we were informed was the only individual of several then present thus qualified) to take his place in the center as master of the ceremonies, when the same antics as before were again gone through. After this description it will scarcely be necessary to remark that nothing can be poorer in its way than this tedious singing recreation, which, as well as in everything in which dancing is concerned, they express by the word mumipoq. They seem, however, to take great delight in it; and even a number of the men as well as all the children crept into the hut by degrees to peep at the performance.The Eskimo women and children often amuse themselves with a game not unlike our “skip-rope.” This is performed by two women holding the ends of a line and whirling it regularly round and round, while a third jumps over it in the middle according to the following order. She commences by jumping twice on both feet, then alternately with the right and left, and next four times with the feet slipped one behind the other, the rope passing once round at each jump. After this she performs a circle on the ground, jumping about half a dozen times in the course of it, which bringing her to her original position, the same thing is repeated as often as it can be done without entangling the line. One or two of the women performed this with considerable agility and adroitness, considering the clumsiness of their boots and jackets, and seemed to pride themselves in some degree on the qualification.A second kind of this game consists in two women holding a long rope by its ends and whirling it round in such a manner over the heads of two others standing close together near the middle of the bight, that each of these shall jump over it alternately. The art therefore, which is indeed considerable, depends more on those whirling the rope than on the jumpers, who are, however, obliged to keep exact time in order to be ready for the rope passing under their feet.
The next performance consists in looking steadfastly and gravely forward and repeating the words tăbā’-tăbā’; kjaibo, kjaibo; kebang inutovik, kebang inutovik; amatama, amatama, in the order in which they are here placed, but each at least four times, and always by a peculiar modulation of the voice speaking them in pairs as they are coupled above. The sound is made to proceed from the throat in a way much resembling ventriloquism, to which art it is indeed an approach. After the last amatama she always pointed with her finger toward her body, and pronounced the word angakoq, steadily retaining her gravity for five or six seconds, and then bursting into a loud laugh, in which she was joined by all the rest. The women sometimes produce a much more guttural and unnatural sound, repeating principally the word ikeri-ikeri, coupling them as before, and staring in such a manner as to make their eyes appear ready to burst out of their sockets with the exertion. Two or more of them will sometimes stand up face to face, and with great quickness and regularity respond to each other, keeping such exact time that the sound appears to come from one throat instead of several. Very few of the females are possessed of this accomplishment, which is called pitkusiraqpoq, and it is not uncommon to see several of the younger females practising it. A third part of the game, distinguished by the word kaitikpoq, consists only in falling on each knee alternately,a piece of agility which they perform with tolerable quickness, considering the bulky and awkward nature of their dress.***Then the same woman came forward, and letting her arms hang down loosely and bending her body very much forward, shook herself with extreme violence, as if her whole frame had been strongly convulsed, uttering at the same time, in a wild tone of voice, some of the unnatural sounds before mentioned.
This being at an end, a new exhibition was commenced in which ten or twelve women took a part, and which our gentlemen compared to blind man’s buff. A circle being formed, and a boy dispatched to look out at the door of the hut, a woman placed herself in the center, and, after making a variety of guttural noises for about half a minute, shut her eyes, and ran about till she had taken hold of one of the others, whose business it then became to take her station in the center, so that almost every woman in her turn occupied this post, and in her own peculiar way, either by distortion of countenance or other gestures, performed her part in the game. This continued three-quarters of an hour, and, from the precaution of placing a lookout who was withdrawn when it was over, as well as from some very expressive signs which need not here be mentioned, there is reason to believe that it is usually followed by certain indecencies, with which their husbands are not to be acquainted.***
The most common amusement however, and to which their husbands made no objection, they performed at Winter Island expressly for our gratification. The females, being collected to the number of ten or twelve, stood in as large a circle as the hut would admit, with a man in the center. He began by a sort of half howling, half singing noise, which appeared as if designed to call the attention of the women, the latter soon commencing the Amna Aya song. This they continued without variety, remaining quite still while the man walked round within the circle; his body was rather bent forward, his eyes sometimes closed, his arms constantly moving up and down, and now and then hoarsely vociferating a word or two as if to increase the animation of the singers, who, whenever he did this, quitted the chorus and rose into the words of the song. At the end of ten minutes they all left off at once, and after one minute’s interval commenced a second act precisely similar and of equal duration, the man continuing to invoke their muse as before. A third act which followed this, varied frequently towards the close only in his throwing his feet up before and clapping his hands together, by which exertion he was thrown into a violent perspiration. He then retired, desiring a young man (who as we were informed was the only individual of several then present thus qualified) to take his place in the center as master of the ceremonies, when the same antics as before were again gone through. After this description it will scarcely be necessary to remark that nothing can be poorer in its way than this tedious singing recreation, which, as well as in everything in which dancing is concerned, they express by the word mumipoq. They seem, however, to take great delight in it; and even a number of the men as well as all the children crept into the hut by degrees to peep at the performance.
The Eskimo women and children often amuse themselves with a game not unlike our “skip-rope.” This is performed by two women holding the ends of a line and whirling it regularly round and round, while a third jumps over it in the middle according to the following order. She commences by jumping twice on both feet, then alternately with the right and left, and next four times with the feet slipped one behind the other, the rope passing once round at each jump. After this she performs a circle on the ground, jumping about half a dozen times in the course of it, which bringing her to her original position, the same thing is repeated as often as it can be done without entangling the line. One or two of the women performed this with considerable agility and adroitness, considering the clumsiness of their boots and jackets, and seemed to pride themselves in some degree on the qualification.A second kind of this game consists in two women holding a long rope by its ends and whirling it round in such a manner over the heads of two others standing close together near the middle of the bight, that each of these shall jump over it alternately. The art therefore, which is indeed considerable, depends more on those whirling the rope than on the jumpers, who are, however, obliged to keep exact time in order to be ready for the rope passing under their feet.
Of all these games I observed only the one called pitkusiraqpoq by Parry, which I saw played several times at Cumberland Sound. (See Appendix,Note 3.)
While in times of plenty the home life is quite cheerful, the house presents a sad and gloomy appearance if stormy weather prevents the men from hunting. The stores are quickly consumed, one lamp after another is extinguished, and everybody sits motionless in the dark hut. Nevertheless the women and men do not stop humming their monotonous amna aya and their stoicism in enduring the pangs of hunger is really wonderful. At last, when starvation is menacing the sufferers, the most daring of the men resolves to try his luck. Though the storm may rage over the icy plain he sets out to go sealing. For hours he braves the cold and stands waiting and watching at the breathing hole until he hears the blowing of the seal and succeeds in killing it.
When those who have remained at home hear the sound of the returning sledge, they rush out of the houses to meet it. Quickly they help the bold hunter to get on shore. The sledge is unloaded, the seal dragged into the house, and every one joyfully awaits his share. The animal is cut up, every household receiving a piece of meat and blubber. The gloomy huts are again lighted up and the pots, which had been out of use for some days, are again hung up over the lamps.
If the hunter, however, has tried in vain to procure food, if the storm does not subside, the terrors of famine visit the settlement. The dogs are the first to fall victims to the pressing hunger, and if the worst comes cannibalism is resorted to. But all these occurrences are spoken of with the utmost horror. In such cases children particularly are killed and eaten. Fortunately, however, such occurrences are very rare.
As soon as the ice has consolidated in winter a lively intercourse springs up between the settlements. Friends visit one another, trading excursions are undertaken, and almost every few days visitors arrive at the village. They are welcomed with great hospitality. The sledge is unloaded and the dogs are fed by the host. The visitor is led into the hut, served with the choicest pieces of meat, and the hostess puts his clothing in order. In the winter these visits are generally short, rarely lasting more than a few days.
Longer journeys are postponed until spring, when food can be procured more easily. These journeys are planned a long time before they are made. While the families generally leave what they can spare of their household goods in winter at their summer settlement, they bring away everything they possess to the winter village if they intend to visit a neighboring tribe in the spring. In April or May they leave their snow houses; the tent poles and the whole of their goods are loaded upon the sledge, only the boats being left behind in charge of some friend, and then they start upon their long, lonely journey. On the first day they do not travel far, but make the first halt after about a twelve-mile journey. As the load is heavy the men and women sit on the top of the sledges only to rest. The driver walks alongside and the women lead the way, the dogs pulling more willingly if they see somebody ahead of the sledge. At night it is not unloaded, only those things being taken out which are necessary for building a small tent and for cooking. In order to protect the sledge from the attacks of the dogs, the pitu (seep. 530) is taken out and fastened to an eye cut into the ice with the end of the spear. After having traveled about three days a longer halt is made; the sledge is unloaded, the dogs are unharnessed, and the men go out hunting in order to procure food for the dogs and for themselves. Thus they slowly proceed until they at last reach the end of their journey. Here they settle down with the friends whom they have come to visit, establish a hut of their own, and spend a whole year with them. In the following spring they retrace their journey to their own homes. Journeys of four to five hundred miles in one spring are not of rare occurrence; longer journeys, however, frequently last for years.
A journey of two hundred miles, going and coming, is sometimes accomplished in one season. For such a journey they would set out in March or April, leaving all their goods behind, and live with the friends whom they visit for a month or two, returning about June. While on the visit the visitors help their friends to provide for their families.
see caption
Fig. 529.Modern snow goggles, of wood. (National Museum, Washington. 29978.) ½
In traveling in the spring the Eskimo always use snow goggles to protect themselves from snow blindness. The modern ones (Fig. 529), which are made of wood and have a shade and a narrow slit for each eye, are very effective. The old design is represented in Fig. 530, the specimen being made of ivory.
see caption
Fig. 530.Old form of snow goggles, of ivory, found in Idjorituaqtuin, Cumberland Sound.(Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin. IV A 6833.)
Long journeys are sometimes made in summer, several families traveling together in their boats. As, however, the open season is very short in many parts of Northeastern America, spring journeys are more frequently made.
When traveling by boat the tent poles, skin covers, and all the household goods are stowed away in the bottom. The women do the pulling, three or four working at each oar, while a man sits on the stern board steering with a paddle. They move on at their leisure,stopping whenever they are tired or when a seal is seen blowing near the boat. The kayaks are tied to the stern and towed along. Children and dogs lie about in the bottom of the boat. In the center there is a tub containing all kinds of provisions, and every now and then they take some refreshment from it. During the nights the tents are erected at suitable points. The natives are well acquainted with these, and, if they are not compelled by severe weather to seek shelter at the nearest point, always visit the same places. These have a smooth, sloping beach, fresh water, and dry, gravelly places in which the tents are built.
When the rays of the sun begin to be warmer and the roofs of the snow houses tumble down the natives live in a very uncomfortable way until a sufficient number of sealskins are procured to build a tent. Sometimes a family live under a roof too small to cover themall, though they sit as close as possible, and too low to permit them to sit upright; but, as seals are basking everywhere on the ice, this state of affairs does not last long. The women split a number of large skins and dry them on the snow, and by the middle of May they can build a pretty large tent; but it is not until they settle permanently at the place of the summer village that the large tent is sewed and put up.
At this season salmon and venison form the staple food of the Eskimo. The old men, women, and children, who stay at the lakes or at the salmon rivers, depend almost entirely upon this food. They fish and eat the salmon in a raw as well as in a cooked state. Birds are caught and eaten raw. The surplus salmon are split and dried on poles erected for the purpose. Deer shoulders, legs, and backs are also cut into thin pieces and dried. Sometimes the dried fish and venison are deposited in stone caches for later use, but most of it is eaten in summer, especially when the Eskimo go traveling. When the men go deer hunting they take a supply of dried salmon with them, and thus can stay out for a week or even longer. When a deer is killed it is skinned at once, the legs being slit and the belly opened. The paunch is carefully tied up, as the contents are a favorite dish of the Eskimo. The head, the legs, and the ribs are cut off and after being piled up the whole is covered with heavy stones, only the horns protruding from the top of the depot. The hams and the skin are generally carried to the hut at once, and, if the distance is not too great or the carcass can be reached with sledges or boats, the whole animal is brought home. Large depots are only made in the fall, when there is no danger of the meat spoiling.
At this season the natives visit deer passes and lakes, near which they establish their huts. The tents and all the household goods are packed up in heavy bundles, some of which are carried by the dogs, the load hanging on both sides of the back; others, by men and women, being secured by one strap which passes over the forehead and by another which passes over the breast. Their strength and their perseverance in carrying heavy loads over long distances are remarkable.
The social life in the summer settlements is rather different from that in winter. At this season the families do not cook their own meals, but a single one provides for the whole settlement. The day before it is her turn to cook, the woman goes to the hills to fetch shrubs for the fire. Three stones are put up near the hut as a fireplace, the opening facing the wind. The kettle is placed on the top of it and the fire is fed with shrubs and blubber. When the meal is ready the master of the house stands beside it, crying Ujo! Ujo! (boiled meat) and everybody comes out of the hut provided with a knife. The dish is carried to a level place and the men sit down around it in one circle, while the women form another. Then largelumps of meat are passed around, everybody cutting off a piece and taking a swallow of the soup, which is passed around in a large leather cup. These dinners, which are held in the evening after the return from the hunt, are almost always enlivened by a mimic performance. A man or an old woman sits down in the center of the circle and amuses the assembly by singing and dancing or by making faces. A favorite performance is one in which a man, with blackened face and with a thong tied around his head, writhes and makes odd grimaces.
After dinner the men sit chatting or gambling before the huts, while the women and children amuse themselves by running about, playing at ball, or dancing.
A strict religious custom forbids the Eskimo to work on the deerskins which are obtained in summer before the ice has formed; they are only dried and tied up in large bundles. In the fall, when on their way to the winter settlements, the Eskimo travel rather quickly. The boats are piled up with the spoils of the summer hunt and the place of destination is generally reached before the stormy weather sets in.
When it gets colder short excursions are made by boat in order to collect shrubs for covering the tents. Several families join in building a common hut, and on a fine day the old tents are torn down and the tent poles are converted into a strong frame, which is covered with a double roof. The bed and the platforms for the lamps are raised and henceforth all the cooking is done inside.
As soon as the first seals are caught with the harpoon the deer skins are prepared. If they were deposited under stones in summer, sledges set out to bring them to the settlements, and then they are distributed for winter clothing. According to Hall the western tribes are in the habit of spreading all the skins on one place and distributing them among the inhabitants of the settlement. I did not observe the same custom among the eastern tribes. Then they devote themselves to dressing the skins. On Davis Strait this work falls to the share of the women, while among the Hudson Bay tribes it is done by the men. At this season the great religious feasts of the natives are celebrated, which announce, as it were, the commencement of winter.
The social order of the Eskimo is entirely founded on the family and on the ties of consanguinity and affinity between the individual families. Generally children are betrothed when very young, but these engagements, not being strictly binding, may be broken off at any time. When the children reach maturity the girl learns the duties of a woman and the boy those of a man. As soon as he isable to provide for a family and she can do the work falling to her share, they are allowed to marry. It happens frequently that the young man’s parents are unwilling to allow him to provide for his parents-in-law, and thenhemay be rejected at any moment. Usually the young couple must begin housekeeping with the young wife’s family and the young man, if belonging to a strange tribe, must join that of his wife. It is not until after his parents-in-law are dead that he is entirely master of his own actions. Though the betrothal be entered into in the days of childhood the bride must be bought from the parents by some present. In other instances the men choose their wives when grown up and sometimes a long wooing precedes the marriage. The consent of the bride’s parents, or, if they are dead, that of her brothers, is always necessary. Marriages between relatives are forbidden: cousins, nephew and niece, aunt and uncle, are not allowed to intermarry. There is, however, no law to prevent a man from marrying two sisters. It is remarkable that Lyon states just the reverse (p. 353). I am sure, however, that my statements are correct in reference to the Davis Strait tribes.
Should the newly married couple join the wife’s family this would serve as a check to polygamy, which, however, is quite allowable. It is only when the new family settles on its own account that a man is at full liberty to take additional wives, among whom one is always considered the chief wife. Monogamy is everywhere more frequent than polygamy, only a very few men having two or more wives. According to Ross polyandry occurs with the Netchillirmiut (II, pp. 356, 373). As long as the mother-in-law lives with the young family the wives are subordinate to her, while the mothers of both parties are independent of each other. No example came to my notice of both parents living with the newly married couple. Sometimes the man and wife do not set up a new household at once, but each remains at home. The property necessary for establishing a new family is the hunting gear of the man and the knife, scraper, lamp, and cooking pot of the women.
A strange custom permits a man to lend his wife to a friend for a whole season or even longer and to exchange wives as a sign of friendship. On certain occasions it is even commanded by a religious law (seep. 605). Nevertheless I know of some instances of quarrels arising from jealousy. Lyon states, however, that this passion is unknown among the Iglulirmiut (p. 355). The husband is not allowed to maltreat or punish his wife; if he does she may leave him at any time, and the wife’s mother can always command a divorce. Both are allowed to remarry as soon as they like, even the slightest pretext being sufficient for a separation.
I may be allowed to refer once more to the division of labor between the man and woman. The principal part of the man’s work is to provide for his family by hunting, i.e., for his wife and children andfor his relatives who have no provider. He must drive the sledge in traveling, feed the dogs, build the house, and make and keep in order his hunting implements, the boat cover and seal floats excepted. The woman has to do the household work, the sewing, and the cooking. She must look after the lamps, make and mend the tent and boat covers, prepare the skins, and bring up young dogs. It falls to her share to make the inner outfit of the hut, to smooth the platforms, line the snow house, &c. On Davis Strait the men cut up all kinds of animals which they have caught; on Hudson Bay, however, the women cut up the seals. There the men prepare the deerskins, which is done by the women among the eastern tribes. Everywhere the women have to do the rowing in the large boats while the man steers. Cripples who are unable to hunt do the same kind of work as women.
Children are treated very kindly and are not scolded, whipped, or subjected to any corporal punishment. Among all the tribes infanticide has been practiced to some extent, but probably only females or children of widows or widowers have been murdered in this way, the latter on account of the difficulty of providing for them. It is very remarkable that this practice seems to be quite allowable among them, while in Greenland it is believed that the spirit of the murdered child is turned into an evil spirit, called angiaq, and revenges the crime (Rink, p. 45).
Besides the children properly belonging to the family, adopted children, widows, and old people are considered part of it. Adoption is carried on among this people to a great extent.
If for any reason a man is unable to provide for his family or if a woman cannot do her household work, the children are adopted by a relative or a friend, who considers them as his own children. In the same way widows with their children are adopted by their nearest relative or by a friend and belong to the family, though the woman retains her own fireplace.
It is difficult to decide which relative is considered the nearest, but the ties of consanguinity appear to be much closer than those of affinity. If a woman dies the husband leaves his children with his parents-in-law and returns to his own family, and if a man dies his wife returns to her parents or her brothers, who are the nearest relatives next to parents or children. When a woman dies, however, after the children are grown up the widower will stay with them. In case of a divorce the children generally remain with the mother.
As a great part of the personal property of a man is destroyed at his death or placed by his grave, the objects which may be acquired by inheritance are few. These are the gun, harpoon, sledge, dogs, kayak, boat, and tent poles of the man and the lamp and pots of the woman. The first inheritor of these articles is the eldest son livingwith the parents. Sons and daughters having households of their own do not participate in the inheritance. An elder adopted son has a preference over a younger son born of the marriage. Details of the laws which relate to inheritance are unknown to me.
Sometimes men are adopted who may almost be considered servants. Particularly bachelors without any relations, cripples who are not able to provide for themselves, or men who have lost their sledges and dogs are found in this position. They fulfill minor occupations, mend the hunting implements, fit out the sledges, feed the dogs, &c.; sometimes, however, they join the hunters. They follow the master of the house when he removes from one place to another, make journeys in order to do his commissions, and so on. The position, however, is a voluntary one, and therefore these men are not less esteemed than the self dependent providers.
Strangers visiting their friends for a season are generally in a similar position, though they receive a wife if the host happens to have more than one; if the friend has hunting gear, a sledge, and dogs of his own, he can arrange a separate fireplace in the hut.
In summer most families have each their own tent, but in the fall from two to four join in building a house. Frequently the parents live on one side, the family of the son-in-law on the other, and a friend or relative in a small recess. Sometimes two houses have a common entrance or the passages communicate with one another. The inhabitants of both parts usually live quite independently of one another, while the oldest man of every house has some influence over his housemates.
If the distance between the winter and the summer settlement is very great or when any particular knowledge is required to find out the haunts of game, there is a kind of chief in the settlement, whose acknowledged authority is, however, very limited. He is called the pimain (i.e., he who knows everything best) or the issumautang. His authority is virtually limited to the right of deciding on the proper time to shift the huts from one place to the other, but the families are not obliged to follow him. At some places it seems to be considered proper to ask the pimain before moving to another settlement and leaving the rest of the tribe. He may ask some men to go deer hunting, others to go sealing, but there is not the slightest obligation to obey his orders.
Every family is allowed to settle wherever it likes, visiting a strange tribe being the only exception. In such a case the newcomer has to undergo a ceremony which consists chiefly in a duel between a native of the place and himself. If he is defeated he runs the risk of being killed, by those among whom he has come (see pp.465,609).
There are numerous regulations governing hunting, determining to whom the game belongs, the obligations of the successful hunter towards the inhabitants of the village, &c.
When a seal is brought to the huts everybody is entitled to a share of the meat and blubber, which is distributed by the hunter himself or carried to the individual huts by his wife. This custom is only practiced when food is scarce. In time of plenty only the housemates receive a share of the animal.
A ground seal belongs to all the men who take part in the hunt, the skin especially being divided among them. A walrus is cut up at once into as many parts as there are hunters, the one who first struck it having the choice of the parts and receiving the head. A whale belongs to the whole settlement and its capture is celebrated by a feast (p. 603).
A bear or a young seal belongs to the man who first saw it, no matter who kills it.
Lost objects must be restored to the owner if he is known, game, however, excepted; for example, if a harpoon line breaks and the animal escapes, but is found later by another man, the game belongs to the latter. In Hudson Bay he is also allowed to keep the harpoon and line.
There is no way of enforcing these unwritten laws and no punishment for transgressors except the blood vengeance. It is not a rare occurrence that a man who is offended by another man takes revenge by killing the offender. It is then the right and the duty of the nearest relative of the victim to kill the murderer. In certain quarrels between the Netchillirmiut and the Aivillirmiut, in which the murderer himself could not be apprehended, the family of the murdered man has killed one of the murderer’s relations in his stead. Such a feud sometimes lasts for a long time and is even handed down to a succeeding generation. It is sometimes settled by mutual agreement. As a sign of reconciliation both parties touch each other’s breasts, saying, Ilaga (my friend) (Klutschak, p. 70).
If a man has committed a murder or made himself odious by other outrages he may be killed by any one simply as a matter of justice. The man who intends to take revenge on him must ask his countrymen singly if each agrees in the opinion that the offender is a bad man deserving death. If all answer in the affirmative he may kill the man thus condemned and no one is allowed to revenge the murder. (See Appendix,Note 4.)
Their method of carrying on such a feud is quite foreign to our feelings. Strange as it may seem, a murderer will come to visit the relatives of his victim (though he knows that they are allowed to kill him in revenge) and will settle with them. He is kindly welcomed and sometimes lives quietly for weeks and months. Then he is suddenly challenged to a wrestling match (seep. 609), and if defeated is killed, or if victorious he may kill one of the opposite party, or when hunting he is suddenly attacked by his companions and slain.
Although the principal religious ideas of the Central Eskimo and those of the Greenlanders are identical, their mythologies differ in many material points. I will only mention here that they believe in the Tornait of the old Greenlanders, while the Tornarsuk (i.e., the great Tornaq of the latter) is unknown to them. Their Supreme Being is a woman whose name is Sedna.
The first report on this tradition is found in Warmow’s journal of his visit to Cumberland Sound (Missionsblatt aus der Brüdergemeinde, 1859, No. I, p. 19). The editor says:
The name of the good spirit is Sanaq or Sana, and he seems to be worshiped as the unknown deity. Nobody could give a definite answer to Brother Warmow’s frequent questions as to what they believed he was. They only said they invoked his help if they were in need. “Then we ask him,” one of the men said, “and Takaq (the moon) gives us what we want, seals and deer.” Another one said that Sanaq had lived on the earth and afterwards ascended to the moon.
In Hall’s account of his explorations in Frobisher Bay it is mentioned that the tribes of that country, the Nugumiut, believe in a Supreme Being, and the following statement is given (Hall I, p. 524):
There is one Supreme Being, called by them Anguta, who created the earth, sea, and heavenly bodies. There is also a secondary divinity, a woman, the daughter of Anguta, who is called Sidne. She is supposed to have created all things having life, animal and vegetable. She is regarded also as the protecting divinity of the Inuit people. To her their supplications are addressed; to her their offerings are made; while most of their religious rites and superstitious observances have reference to her.
It is of great importance that in the journals of Hall’s second journey Sedna is mentioned a few times (spelled Sydney), this being the only proof that she is known among the tribes of Hudson Bay.
The statements of the whalers visiting the Sikosuilarmiut and the Akuliarmiut of Hudson Strait correspond with my own observations. Before entering into a comparison of this tradition with similar ones belonging to other tribes, I will give the particulars of the myth as I received it from the Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut.
Once upon a time there lived on a solitary shore an Inung with his daughter Sedna. His wife had been dead for some time and the two led a quiet life. Sedna grew up to be a handsome girl and the youths came from all around to sue for her hand, but none of them could touch her proud heart. Finally, at the breaking up of the ice in the spring a fulmar flew from over the ice and wooed Sedna with enticing song. “Come to me,” it said; “come into the land of thebirds, where there is never hunger, where my tent is made of the most beautiful skins. You shall rest on soft bearskins. My fellows, the fulmars, shall bring you all your heart may desire; their feathers shall clothe you; your lamp shall always be filled with oil, your pot with meat.” Sedna could not long resist such wooing and they went together over the vast sea. When at last they reached the country of the fulmar, after a long and hard journey, Sedna discovered that her spouse had shamefully deceived her. Her new home was not built of beautiful pelts, but was covered with wretched fishskins, full of holes, that gave free entrance to wind and snow. Instead of soft reindeer skins her bed was made of hard walrus hides and she had to live on miserable fish, which the birds brought her. Too soon she discovered that she had thrown away her opportunities when in her foolish pride she had rejected the Inuit youth. In her woe she sang: “Aja. O father, if you knew how wretched I am you would come to me and we would hurry away in your boat over the waters. The birds look unkindly upon me the stranger; cold winds roar about my bed; they give me but miserable food. O come and take me back home. Aja.”
When a year had passed and the sea was again stirred by warmer winds, the father left his country to visit Sedna. His daughter greeted him joyfully and besought him to take her back home. The father hearing of the outrages wrought upon his daughter determined upon revenge. He killed the fulmar, took Sedna into his boat, and they quickly left the country which had brought so much sorrow to Sedna. When the other fulmars came home and found their companion dead and his wife gone, they all flew away in search of the fugitives. They were very sad over the death of their poor murdered comrade and continue to mourn and cry until this day.
Having flown a short distance they discerned the boat and stirred up a heavy storm. The sea rose in immense waves that threatened the pair with destruction. In this mortal peril the father determined to offer Sedna to the birds and flung her overboard. She clung to the edge of the boat with a death grip. The cruel father then took a knife and cut off the first joints of her fingers. Falling into the sea they were transformed into whales, the nails turning into whalebone. Sedna holding on to the boat more tightly, the second finger joints fell under the sharp knife and swam away as seals (Pagomys fœtidus); when the father cut off the stumps of the fingers they became ground seals (Phoca barbata). Meantime the storm subsided, for the fulmars thought Sedna was drowned. The father then allowed her to come into the boat again. But from that time she cherished a deadly hatred against him and swore bitter revenge. After they got ashore, she called her dogs and let them gnaw off the feet and hands of her father while he was asleep. Upon this he cursed himself, his daughter, and the dogs which had maimed him;whereupon the earth opened and swallowed the hut, the father, the daughter, and the dogs. They have since lived in the land of Adlivun, of which Sedna is the mistress.
This tradition is handed down in an old song. I shall give the substance of it here, as it differs in some points from the above myth.
The story begins when the fulmar carries Sedna to his home and she discovers that he has brought her to a very wretched tent. The next year the father and a brother, whom I find mentioned nowhere else, came to visit her and take her home. The fulmar follows their boat and causes a heavy gale to rise which almost upsets it. The father cuts off her fingers, which are transformed into whales, seals, and ground seals. Besides, he pierces her eye and thus kills her. Then he takes the body into the boat and carries it to the shore. There he lays it on the beach and covers it with a dogskin. When the flood comes in it covers Sedna.
Sedna and her father are described by the angakut (seep. 591), who sometimes visit her house or see them when both dwell among the natives, as follows: She is very large and much taller than the Inuit. In accordance with the second form of the tradition she has only one eye and is scarcely able to move. Her father is also a cripple and appears to the dying, whom he grasps with his right hand, which has only three fingers.
There is a remarkable resemblance between this tradition and one related by Lyon (p. 362), who describes the religious ideas of the Iglulirmiut, more particularly the genii of one of their angakut. He says that the principal spirits are Aiviliajoq (Ay-willi-ay-oo) or Nuliajoq (Noo-le-ay-oo), a female spirit, and her father, Napajoq (Nap-payok) or Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig). Then he continues:
The former is in the first place the mother, protectress, and not unfrequently the monopolist of sea animals, which she sometimes very wantonly confines below, and by that means causes a general scarcity in the upper world. When this is the case, the angakok is persuaded to pay her a visit, and attempt the release of the animals on which his tribe subsist. I know not what ceremonies he performs at the first part of the interview; but as the spell by which the animals are held lies in the hand of the enchantress, the conjuror makes some bold attempts to cut it off, and, according to his success, plenty, more or less, is obtained. If deprived of her nails, the bears obtain their freedom; amputation of the first joint liberates the netsiq (Pagomys); while that of the second loosens the ugjuq (Phoca). Should the knuckles be detached whole herds of walrus rise to the surface; and should the adventurous angakoq succeed in cutting through the lower part of the metacarpal bones, the monstrous whales are disenthralled and delightedly join the other creatures of the deep.***Her house is exceedingly fine, and very like a Kabluna (European) looking-glass(?); and, what is still more attractive to an Eskimo, it contains plenty of food. Immediately within the door of the dwelling, which has a long passage of entrance, is stationed a very large and fierce dog, which has no tail, and whose hinder quarters are black.***Aiviliajoq is described as being equally wonderful in her personal appearance as in her actions. She is very tall and has but one eye, which is the left, the place of the other being covered by a profusion of blackhair. She has one pigtail only, contrary to the established fashion in the upper Eskimo world, which is to wear one on each side of the face, and this is of such immense magnitude, that a man can scarcely grasp it with both hands. Its length is exactly twice that of her arm, and it descends to her knee. The hood of her jacket is always worn up.***Her father has but one arm, the hand of which is covered by a very large mitten of bearskin.***He is not larger than a boy of ten years of age. He bears the character of a good, quiet sort of person and is master of a very nice house, which, however, is not approachable, on account of the vast herds of walrus lying round it, which, with numerous bears, make a terrific howling.***He has nothing to eat, and does not even require it; in which particular he differs widely from his daughter, who has a most voracious appetite. I know not if he is the father of all terrestrial animals, but he is certainly their patron, and withholds them at times from the Eskimo.
The former is in the first place the mother, protectress, and not unfrequently the monopolist of sea animals, which she sometimes very wantonly confines below, and by that means causes a general scarcity in the upper world. When this is the case, the angakok is persuaded to pay her a visit, and attempt the release of the animals on which his tribe subsist. I know not what ceremonies he performs at the first part of the interview; but as the spell by which the animals are held lies in the hand of the enchantress, the conjuror makes some bold attempts to cut it off, and, according to his success, plenty, more or less, is obtained. If deprived of her nails, the bears obtain their freedom; amputation of the first joint liberates the netsiq (Pagomys); while that of the second loosens the ugjuq (Phoca). Should the knuckles be detached whole herds of walrus rise to the surface; and should the adventurous angakoq succeed in cutting through the lower part of the metacarpal bones, the monstrous whales are disenthralled and delightedly join the other creatures of the deep.***Her house is exceedingly fine, and very like a Kabluna (European) looking-glass(?); and, what is still more attractive to an Eskimo, it contains plenty of food. Immediately within the door of the dwelling, which has a long passage of entrance, is stationed a very large and fierce dog, which has no tail, and whose hinder quarters are black.***Aiviliajoq is described as being equally wonderful in her personal appearance as in her actions. She is very tall and has but one eye, which is the left, the place of the other being covered by a profusion of blackhair. She has one pigtail only, contrary to the established fashion in the upper Eskimo world, which is to wear one on each side of the face, and this is of such immense magnitude, that a man can scarcely grasp it with both hands. Its length is exactly twice that of her arm, and it descends to her knee. The hood of her jacket is always worn up.***
Her father has but one arm, the hand of which is covered by a very large mitten of bearskin.***He is not larger than a boy of ten years of age. He bears the character of a good, quiet sort of person and is master of a very nice house, which, however, is not approachable, on account of the vast herds of walrus lying round it, which, with numerous bears, make a terrific howling.***He has nothing to eat, and does not even require it; in which particular he differs widely from his daughter, who has a most voracious appetite. I know not if he is the father of all terrestrial animals, but he is certainly their patron, and withholds them at times from the Eskimo.
The name of the father, Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig), i.e., the man with something to cut (with a knife), is very remarkable. Besides, it is interesting that the angakoq who visits the dwelling of Nuliajoq has to cut off her hand in order to liberate the sea animals. In the tradition related in the foregoing, Sedna has another name, to wit, Uinigumisuitung, i.e., she who would not have a husband; her father, Savirqong, i.e., the man with the knife. Often he is only called Anguta, her father.
It is evident that Nuliajoq is identical with Sedna, though some peculiarities exist in the tradition as related by Lyon which it is rather difficult to reconcile with the myth as it is related among the Oqomiut. It seems to me that this difficulty arises from the mixing up of the angakoq’s visit to Sedna with the tradition itself. Indeed Lyon only refers to the angakoq’s visit to Nuliajoq, whom he considers a genius of a great angakoq, though he remarks in another place (p. 363) that she “has a boundless command over the lives and destinies of mankind.”
The tale of the angakoq’s visit makes the tradition very similar to the Greenland myth of Arnaquagsaq, i.e., the old woman. According to Cranz (p. 264) and to Rink (p. 40) this spirit has her abode in the depth of the ocean. She represents the source of nourishment, supplying the physical wants of mankind. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp, beneath which is placed a vessel which receives the oil that keeps flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, as well as from the dark interior of her hut, she sends out all the animals which serve for food, but in certain cases withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine. The reason for thus withholding the supply was that certain filthy and noxious parasites fastened themselves upon her head, of which she could only be relieved by an angakoq. Then she could be induced again to send out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he (the angakoq) had first to pass the Arsissut and then to cross an abyss, in which, according to the earliest authors, a wheel as slippery as ice was constantlyturning around; then, having safely passed a boiling kettle with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which watch was kept by terrible animals, sometimes described as seals, sometimes as dogs; and, lastly, within the house passage itself, he had to cross an abyss by means of a bridge as narrow as a knife edge.
About the same tale is found among the Baffin Land tribes; according to Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., she is called Nanoquagsaq by the Akuliarmiut. She is visited by the angakut, who liberate the sea animals by subduing her or rather by depriving her of a charm by which she restrains the animals.
I am inclined to think that the form in which Lyon gives this tradition is not quite correct, but is a mixture of the Sedna myth and that of the angakoq’s visit to Arnaquagsaq. This seems the more probable from a Greenland tale which Dr. Rink kindly communicated to me, in which it is related that the grandfather of Arnaquagsaq cut off her fingers, which were changed into sea animals.
For this reason it is most probable that Arnaquagsaq, Sedna, and Nuliajoq proceed from the same myth, though the traditions differ from one another as they are related by the travelers. In the mythology of the central tribes this character has a much more decided influence upon their religious belief than the Arnaquagsaq of the Greenlanders seems to have had.
The myth of Sedna is confused with another which treats of the origin of the Europeans and of the Adlet (seep. 637). The legends are in part almost identical. Sedna orders her dog to gnaw off her father’s feet; Uinigumisuitung’s children maim their grandfather in the same way; and, besides, Sedna’s second name is also Uinigumisuitung. In both tales the father is called Savirqong. In Lyon’s Private Journal (p. 363) an important statement is found to the effect that the dog which protects Nuliajoq’s dwelling is by some natives called her husband, by others merely her dog, but that he is generally considered the father of Erqigdlit (identical with Adlet, p. 637) and Qadlunait (Europeans).
Finally, I must record the legend of the origin of the walrus and the reindeer, which is closely related to the Sedna tradition. I could never learn any other reason why the use of sea animals and reindeer at the same period should be forbidden, except the fear of offending Sedna. She is represented as disliking the deer, which accordingly are not found in her house. Any reason for this dislike is not given. The Akuliarmiut, however, have a tradition that a woman, most probably Sedna herself, created the walrus and the reindeer during a famine. She opened her belly and took out a small piece of fat which she carried up the hills where it was transformed by a magic spell into a reindeer. As soon as she saw the animal she became frightened and ordered it to run away, but the deer turned upon her and would not go; then she became angry and knocked out its teeth.It turned round at once, but before it could leave she gave it a kick which lopped off its tail. Thus it happened that the deer is deficient as to certain teeth and has scarcely any tail. The woman, however, continued to hate the deer. Afterward she descended to the beach and threw another piece of fat into the water. It was transformed into a walrus, which swam away at once. (According to a communication of Captain Spicer.)
The form of this tradition as related by the Akudnirmiut is somewhat different. During a famine a woman (I could not learn whether she was identical with Sedna or not) carried her boots to the hills and transformed them by magic into deer, which spread all over the country. Then she carried her breeches to the sea, where they were changed into walrus. The first deer, however, had large tusks and no horns, while the walrus had horns and no tusks. The Eskimo soon found that this was very dangerous for the hunter, as the deer killed pursuers with their tusks, while the walrus upset the boats. Therefore an old man transferred the horns to the deer and the tusks to the walrus.
It is very probable that this woman was Sedna, as the Eskimo affirm that the observances referring to walrus and deer are commanded by Sedna and as the first tradition accounts for her dislike of the deer.
I could not find any trace of the tradition reported by Lyon, that Anautalik, Nuliajoq’s father, is the protector of land animals, nor of that of a being to whom he refers by the name of Pukimna (derived from pukiq, the white parts of a deerskin), who lives in a fine country far to the west and who is the immediate protectress of deer, which animals roam in immense herds around her dwelling.
Sedna is the mistress of one of the countries to which the souls go after death. It has been related in the foregoing tradition of Sedna and the fulmar that she descended to Adlivun; since that time she has been the mistress of the country, and when invoked as such has the name of Idliragijenget. She has a large house, in which no deerskins are found. There she lives with her father, each occupying one side of it. The father, who is unable to move, lies on the ledge and is covered with old skins. In the entrance across the threshold lies Sedna’s dog watching her house. Like her, the father has only one eye, and he never moves from his place while in the house.
The dead, who are seized by Sedna’s father, Anguta, are carried to this dwelling. The dog moves aside only a little, just enough to allow the souls to pass. They have to stay in this dismal abode during a whole year, lying by the side of Anguta, who pinches them.
The happy land is heaven and is called Qudlivun (the uppermost ones). It abounds with deer, which are easily caught, and no ice or snow ever visits it.
The Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut make a distinction between Adlivun and Adliparmiut. Adlivun means “those who live beneath us;” Adliparmiut, “the inhabitants of the country farthest below us;” and the same difference exists between Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. Though these names intimate the probability that the Eskimo believe in a series of places, located in a descending scale, each below the other, I could not find any more detailed description of the conception.
Hall’s observations agree fairly with my own. He says (I, p. 524):