TALES AND TRADITIONS

OF THE

ESKIMO

WITH A SKETCH OF

THEIR HABITS, RELIGION, LANGUAGE
AND OTHER PECULIARITIES

BY

DR HENRY RINK

KNIGHT OF DANNEBROG

DIRECTOR OF THE ROYAL GREENLAND BOARD OF TRADE, AND
FORMERLY ROYAL INSPECTOR OF SOUTH GREENLAND
AUTHOR OF 'GRÖNLAND GEOGRAPHISK OG
STATISTISK BESKREVET,' ETC.

TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH BY THE AUTHOR

EDITED BY

DR ROBERT BROWN

F.L.S., F.R.G.S.

AUTHOR OF 'THE RACES OF MANKIND,' ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS, DRAWN AND ENGRAVED BY ESKIMO

London, 1875

CONTENTS

[p. v]

PREFACE

THE author of this work has partly resided, partly been travelling about, on the shores of Davis Strait, from the southernmost point of Greenland up to 73° north latitude, for sixteen winters and twenty-two summers; first as a scientific explorer, afterwards as Royal Inspector or Governor of the Southern Danish establishments in Greenland. The first series of tales was published by him in 1866; but as this field of ethnological investigation was at that time almost uncultivated, much new material came to hand after that publication, and, moreover, the author had then only acquired such a degree of familiarity with the language, as made it possible for him to understand his native informants sufficiently well to write down their verbal communications. In 1871 he determined to publish a new series of tales as a supplement to the former, in which he has also described the general habits, religion, and other peculiarities of the Eskimo, having by that time been enabled to give a more comprehensive account of these subjects, and to make some farther improvements on the first publication.

Besides the translation into English, a twofold object has been aimed at in this edition: first, that of incorporating the two parts into one; and second, of partly abbreviating their contents. The principal aim of this [p.vi] abridgment has been to make these accounts more available to readers engaged in archæological studies, or investigations of the earliest history of mankind by comparison of the traditional tales, languages, and religious opinions of the more primitive nations, in which respect the Eskimo, and specially the Greenlanders, have been studied more minutely, perhaps, than any other similar people. Keeping this object in view, some of the tales, as well as a certain part of the original work, seemed to be of special interest only to the Danish colonies, and have therefore been wholly omitted, or only given in an abridged form, in the present publication.

The wholly modern study of "prehistoric man," which in our time is making such progress, has hitherto almost exclusively been founded upon the study of the ornaments, weapons, and other remains of primitive peoples, which for this purpose have become greatly valued, and are searched for in the bowels of the earth, and drawn forth to light in nearly every part of the globe. But the time will certainly come when any relics of spiritual life brought down to us from prehistoric mankind, which may still be found in the folk-lore of the more isolated and primitive nations, will be valued as highly as those material remains. In this respect the Eskimo may be considered among the most interesting, both as having been almost entirely cut off from other nations and very little influenced by foreign intercourse, and also as representing a kind of link between the aboriginals of the New and the Old World.

Some illustrations, designed as well as drawn and engraved on wood by natives of Greenland, are given, the author having supplied the original blocks to be used in this edition for this purpose.

[p.vii] As to the spelling of Greenland words and names, we have to draw a distinction between those which are more properly used as representing the foreign expressions themselves, and those which have been wholly embodied in the Danish or English language of the text, and thereby subject to the orthography of these languages. In the first instance, the words distinguished by a different type, are spelt in exact accordance with the orthography now adopted in the native schools of Greenland. In the preliminary sketch, where this orthography is explained, it will be seen that all the sounds may be expressed by our usual Latin characters, with the exception only of a deep guttural k, for which the character ĸ has been formed; the other more peculiar sounds having been substituted by double consonants or expressed by accents. The other letters are pronounced almost identically with those of the German and Scandinavian languages. In the second instance we have, as far as possible, accommodated the mode of spelling to the English pronunciation of the letters, in some instances using y for j, gh for g, k, or in some more peculiar cases, k’ for ĸ, &c.; as, for instance, anghiak (ângiaĸ), kayak (ĸajaĸ), k’ivigtok (ĸivigtoĸ).

The personal and geographical names are given with fewer alterations of the kind mentioned, and nearly agree with the Danish orthography.

To prevent, as far as possible, misunderstanding and farther corruption of the original Greenland words, we have added, wherever it appeared necessary, in parentheses, how the word is most nearly to be pronounced (pron....), in other instances how it is to be correctly spelt in Greenlandish (cor. sp....); as, for instance Kulange (pron. Koolanghee), angakok (cor. sp. angákoĸ). [p.viii] The following general rules may be laid down: The letter e at the end or a word is never mute, but always to be pronounced; ai is pronounced like y in by; i, like i in it; g, like g in good; u, like oo.

In some instances we have used the Greenland plural, formed by substituting a t at the end or the word, such as angakut instead of angakoks.

As to uncommon words or expressions in general, those peculiar to Eskimo life will be round explained in the preliminary sketch. But in order to make the stories more readable, as well as better understood, we have, without paying particular attention to this, inserted the most necessary explanations in parentheses or in notes, in different places or the text itself, where it appeared most useful; especially in the earlier pages, where the expressions are first met with.

Dr Robert Brown, who at the author's request has been good enough to revise the manuscript and make such corrections or emendations in the style and construction or the collection as in his judgment were advisable, has had in his travels in the northern regions of America, as well as in Greenland and on the western shores of Davis Strait and Baffin Bay, an opportunity of visiting the aborigines or these countries in their own homes; and these advantages, coupled with his long personal acquaintance with the author, and his experience as a writer on Ethnology, have rendered him peculiarly fitted for this friendly editorial task.

H. R. 

 KONGL, GRÖNDLANDSKE HANDEL,
 COPENHAGEN, Sept. 1875.

[p.1]

THE ESKIMO

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

WITH the exception of a few small and scattered tribes who may be considered as the only link between the coast people and the inlanders, the Eskimo always have their habitations close to the sea, or on the banks of rivers in the immediate vicinity of their outlets into the sea. Even on their hunting and trading expeditions they seldom withdraw more than twenty, and only in very rare cases more than eighty miles, from the sea-shore. Save a slight intermixture of European settlers, the Eskimo are the only inhabitants of the shores of Arctic America, and of both sides of Davis Strait and Baffin Bay, including Greenland, as well as a tract of about four hundred miles on the Behring Strait coast of Asia. Southward they extend as far as about 50° N.L. on the eastern side, and 60° on the western side of America, and from 55° to 60° on the shores of Hudson Bay. Only on the west the Eskimo near their frontier are interrupted on two small spots of the coast by the Indians, named Kennayans and Ugalenzes, who have there advanced to the sea-shore for the sake of fishing. These coasts of Arctic America, of course, also comprise all the surrounding islands. Of these the Aleutian [p.2] Islands form an exceptional group; the inhabitants of these on the one hand distinctly differing from the coast people here mentioned, while on the other they show a closer relationship to the Eskimo than any other nation. The Aleutians, therefore, may be considered as the only abnormal branch of the Eskimo nation. The Aleutian language, though differing completely from the Eskimo with regard to the sound of the words, shows a great similarity to it in structure; and otherwise the Aleutians only seem to differ from the Eskimo inasmuch as some institutions have been slightly more developed among them. On the other hand, all over the eastern and widest parts of their territories the Eskimo are very distinctly severed from the adjoining nations. In the western part some slight transitions may be traced: namely, in the case of the inland Eskimo by the different situation of their dwelling-places; in that of the Aleutians by their language and social institutions. Finally, it may be mentioned that a few small Indian tribes have adopted somewhat of the Eskimo mode of life, which has also been the case with some of their neighbours on the Asiatic side.

As regards their northern limits, the Eskimo people, or at least remains of their habitations, have been found nearly as far north as any Arctic explorers have hitherto advanced; and very possibly bands of them may live still farther to the north, as yet quite unknown to us.

From the north-western to the south-eastern point the Eskimo territories in a straight line measure about 3200 miles. If we consider their extreme western range to be Behring Strait, and their extreme eastern one to be Labrador and Greenland, the natives from either of these points would have to travel about 5000 miles along the coast in order to reach the others. Strictly speaking, these journeys might still be performed by the natives with their own means of conveyance; but there are certain boundaries which, in our days at least, [p.3] are scarcely ever passed—partly on account of natural obstacles, partly because the nation at those points has been broken up into tribes, whose mutual intercourse for the purpose of barter has been frequently interrupted by hostilities. For these reasons the Eskimo might now be divided into many smaller tribes. But from our point of view the following principal divisions will be sufficient:—

1. The East Greenlanders, along the whole of the east coast of Greenland down to Cape Farewell, the southernmost of whom every year make bartering excursions to the Danish settlement nearest the Cape, and have intercourse with the next section.

2. The West Greenlanders, or inhabitants of the Danish trading districts from the Cape upwards to 74° N.L. In conformity with the administrative division of the colonies, they are generally divided into South and North Greenlanders—only the latter are not to be confounded with the next, with whom they seem to have had no intercourse whatever since these regions have been known to Europeans.

3. The Northernmost Greenlanders, or inhabitants of the west coast to the north of Melville Bay, or what Sir John Ross called the "Arctic Highlanders."

4. The Labrador Eskimo.

5. The Eskimo of the middle regions, occupying all the coasts from Baffin and Hudson Bays to Barter Island near Mackenzie River. This division is the most widely spread of them all—its territories representing an extent of land, traversed and intercepted in many directions by the sea, measuring 2000 miles in length and 800 miles in breadth. Perhaps there may be reasons for establishing subdivisions of this section, but they do not appear anywhere to exhibit such mutual differences as those separating them from the next tribe, with whom they have regular meetings on Barter Island.

6. The Western Eskimo, inhabiting the remaining [p.4] coast of America from Barter Island to the west and south. They seem to deviate from all the former in respect of certain habits, such as the labial ornaments of the men and the head-dress of the women. They must also be considered as the nearest akin to the Aleutians and the inland Eskimo, and in the vicinity of Alaska they show traces of intermingled Indian blood. This may be owing to the Indian women captured in war with the Eskimo having been married into the nation.

7. The Asiatic Eskimo.

As regards their development when they first became known to modern Europeans, the Eskimo may be classed with the prehistoric races of the age of the ground stone tools with the exceptional use of metals. It has been usual to designate all nations of this kind as "savages;" some authors have even described them as being totally destitute of those mental qualities through which any kind of culture is manifested, such as social order, laws, sciences, arts, and even religion. That those opinions find utterance can scarcely be wondered at when we observe the carelessness with which such important questions are discussed, and see travellers who merely go on shore from a ship and spend a couple of hours with the inhabitants proceed to make inquiries as to their ideas of God and the origin of the world; and also how European settlers among natives whose language they are quite unconversant with pretend to have found them altogether without religion. Such views, however, resting upon the prejudice of race and on superficial observation, are now being abandoned. We have gradually been finding out that manifestations of culture must be supposed to exist in every nation, although they may not assume the same form as those we observe among more advanced races. We think it a great mistake to suppose any people devoid of religion; and it seems to us equally unreasonable [p.5] to fancy a community of men living altogether without laws, if by laws we understand bonds or restrictions by which the community voluntarily limits the free actions of its members. In the lower stages of development, the laws, being principally represented by habits and customs, leave the individual perhaps even less free than in a more civilised state, inasmuch as they dictate his mode of life, and not even in his most private and domestic affairs is he left to act at liberty. These habits and customs are closely allied to the religious opinions, by which they are still more powerfully influenced. When laws and religion were asserted to be wanting, there was still less likelihood of art and science being observed. In the following introduction we shall endeavour to explain how these utterances of culture are for the most part embodied in the traditional tales.

It is in accordance with the views here stated that the author has been guided in attempting to divide and arrange the subject-matter of the following remarks. It has already been mentioned, and will, moreover, become evident from the traditions, that the Eskimo exhibit great conformity and similarity, notwithstanding their being spread over such vast territories. An examination of one of the principal divisions or tribes named above will therefore more or less illustrate the others. For this reason the Greenlanders, who are by far the best known of all, may here be considered to represent the Eskimo in general; though it must not be forgotten that, as there can scarcely have existed any absolute stability with regard to culture lasting for many centuries, there is also no absolute or actual identity between the different tribes. It must therefore be kept in mind that wherever no other particulars are specially brought forward, the following descriptions refer to the West Greenlanders, such as their state is supposed to have been when Europeans came to settle among them during last century—viz., in 1721.

[p.6]

I—S UBSISTENCE AND MODE OF LIFE

The sustenance of the Eskimo is entirely derived from the capture of seals and cetaceous animals, which has made them inhabitants of the sea-shore. Both kinds of animals enable them, especially by means of their blubber, and the seals also by their skins, to brave the severity of climate, and, independent of any vegetable resources, to settle and procure the means of life as far north as any explorers have hitherto found human inhabitants. The seals are sufficient, and at the same time indispensable, for this purpose. They are caught partly from kayaks, or shuttle-shaped boats, and partly from the ice and the shore. Among their more or less peculiar hunting contrivances we may mention: (1) Their kayaks, or boats, which consist of a framework of wood, joined together principally by strings, and provided with a cover of skins impenetrable to the water. (2) The adjustment of the kayak itself and the kayak-coverings, with a view to provide an entire shelter for the kayaker, or seal-hunter, with the exception only of the face, to protect him against the water. Only a small number of Eskimo have kayaks fitted for more than a single man;¹ and still more exceptionally, in the farthest north some are found who have no kayaks at all, from the sea being almost constantly frozen. (3) The adaptation of a bladder filled with air to the harpoons or javelins, in order, by retarding the animals, to prevent them escaping after being struck, and to prevent the harpoon sinking, should the hunter miss his aim. (4) The very ingenious way in which the point of these weapons, and of the spears with which the animals are finally killed, are fitted into the shaft, so that having penetrated [p.7] the skin of the animal, the point is bent out of the shaft, which is either entirely loosened, while only the point with the line and the bladder remains attached to the animal, or keeps hanging at the point. Without this precaution, the animal in its struggles would break the shaft or make the barbs slip out of its body again. (5) The sledge with the dogs trained for drawing it. In speaking of these complex contrivances as characteristic of the Eskimo, we do not claim any of them as their exclusive property or invention, or as having been unknown among other nations now or in former ages. It would, however, be perhaps difficult to find anything at all like their kayaks in any other part of the globe.

Their dwellings are always of two kinds—namely, tents for the summer, and houses or huts for winter use. The tents, generally adapted for less than ten and rarely for more than twenty individuals, consist of from ten to fourteen poles, with one end raised high and leaning on the frame which forms the entrance, and the whole covered over with a double layer of skins. The tents seem to be constructed in the same way everywhere, and to differ from those of neighbouring nations in having their highest point at the entrance in front, from which the roof inclines towards the sides, resting all round upon a low wall of stones and turf; while the neighbouring tribes generally construct their tents of a conical form, with the top in the centre. The winter-houses are far more varied in structure. Generally they are built of stones and turf, the roof-spars and the pillars which support the middle of the roof being of wood. Only the Eskimo of the middle regions have vaults of snow for their habitations; whilst the western Eskimo build their houses chiefly of planks, merely covered on the outside with green turf. Some of the very far northern Eskimo are obliged to use bones or stones instead of wood. As to the form of the houses, the passage leading into them is long and very narrow, and [p.8] elevated towards both ends—viz., the outer and the inner entrances; so that on entering the house one has first to descend, and afterwards again to ascend before reaching the interior. This consists of a single apartment, only the ledge or bench for resting and sleeping on is divided into separate portions for the different families. In Greenland the ledge or bench—the "brix," as the Danes call it—only occupies one side of the house, its length being proportioned to the number of the families, whose rooms or stalls are separated by low screens, each of these rooms having its lamp standing on the floor in front of it. The snow-huts, from their circular form, are of course arranged differently; and this is also the case with the plank-houses in western Eskimo-Land, which have a cooking-place in the centre of the floor, with a smoke-hole in the roof, like the houses of the neighbouring Indians. But the house-passage has generally everywhere a small side-room with a cooking-place. The provisions are sometimes kept in rooms connected with the house or house-passage; in other places in separate storehouses, or in caves or holes of the rocks covered with stones. In former times it seems to have been the custom at the more populous places to have a public building for meetings, especially for solemn occasions. Such buildings are still in common use among the western Eskimo: they are also spoken of in Labrador; and in Greenland they are well known by tradition, and were called ĸagsse; while in other districts they are termed kagge, karrigi, and kashim. Though the dwelling-houses are nearly always built for more than one family, the number of these is seldom found to exceed three or four. In south Greenland, however, houses have been met with more than sixty feet in length, and containing stalls for ten families. At Point Barrow, Simpson found nearly fifty houses with two karrigi, for 309 inhabitants.

The dress for men and women is much alike, consisting [p.9] of trousers, and a jacket with a hood to be drawn up to cover the head (at least for men), and otherwise fitting tightly round the body, leaving no opening excepting for the face and the hands. The same shape is adopted for the kayak-jacket, the inside border of which is pressed closely round the rim encircling the opening in which the man sits, and the hands are protected by a pair of waterproof leather mittens. The foot-gear consists of different kinds of boots, exceedingly well made, and in preparing the skins for the manufacture of which a considerable degree of care and ingenuity is displayed.

The Eskimo may more properly be classed among the people having fixed dwellings than among the wandering nations, because they generally winter in the same place through even more than one generation, so that love of their birthplace is a rather predominating feature in their character. During the rest of the year, however, they are constantly on the move, carrying their tents and all their furniture with them from one place to another, choosing their route with different objects, generally preferring that of reindeer-hunting, but also having an eye to seal-hunting, fishery, or trade. When travelling in this manner for very distant places, they are sometimes arrested on their route and obliged to take up winter quarters before reaching their proper destination. An Eskimo from the northern shores of Hudson Bay, who accompanied Franklin as interpreter, is said to have reported that people in his house resided during the winter on the borders of the lakes in the interior, and in summer at the sea-shore. If this be true, it would form a remarkable exception to the general rule.

The mode of life of the Eskimo being mainly that of hunters and fishers, they must, in comparison with other nations, be regarded—speaking broadly—as having no regular property. They only possess the most necessary utensils and furniture, with a stock of provisions for less [p.10] than one year; and these belongings never exceed certain limits fixed upon by tradition or custom. On account of these limits, which are of great importance as regards their social order, and the laws which will be discussed hereafter, the properties may be thus classified:—

1. Property owned by an association of generally more than one family—e.g., the winter-house, which, however, is only of any real value as regards the timber employed in raising it, the rest of it being built of such materials as are to be found everywhere, by the work of women's hands.

2. Property the common possession of one, or at most of three families of kindred—viz., a tent and everything belonging to the household, such as lamps, tubs, dishes of wood, soapstone pots; a boat, or umiak, which can carry all these articles along with the tent; one or two sledges with the dogs attached to them; the latter, however, are wanting in South Greenland. To this must be added the stock of winter provisions, representing as much as, used exclusively, will be sufficient for two or three months' consumption; and lastly, a varying but always very small store of articles for barter.

3. As regards personal property—i.e., owned by every individual—cognisance must be taken of clothes, consisting of, at least for the principal members of the family, two suits, but rarely more; the sewing implements of the women; the kayaks of the men, with tools and weapons belonging to these; a few other tools for working in wood; and weapons for the land-chase. Only a very few first-rate seal-hunters own two kayaks, but several of them have two suits of the appertaining implements,—namely, the large harpoon (tukaĸ, the point; and ernangnaĸ, the shaft of it), with its bladder and line; the bladder-arrow or javelin (agdligaĸ), a smaller harpoon with the bladder attached to its shaft; the bird-arrow or bird-spear (nugfit); the lance or spear (anguvigaĸ), the point of which is without barbs; fishing-lines, and various smaller articles.

[p.11] Excepting the houses of the western Eskimo, which, being composed of timber, are of more value, the conditions of property seem to be nearly alike everywhere. With a few exceptions, the natives carry all their movable goods along with them in the boat on their summer travels, and on arriving at some narrow strip of land which has to be crossed, everything is brought over along with the boat.

Notwithstanding their very limited feeling as to accumulating property, the Eskimos have kept up a kind of trade among themselves, and it is for this purpose that some of their most distant journeys are undertaken. But the mere desire to travel may perhaps have urged them quite as much as the prospect of gain. The objects for barter have been such as were produced or were only to be found in certain localities, and which nevertheless might to a certain degree be considered almost indispensable—such as soapstone, and the lamps and vessels manufactured from it, whalebone, narwhal and walrus teeth, certain kinds of skin, sometimes even finished boats and kayaks, but rarely articles of food. The articles looked upon as most precious were, however, any objects made of metal, or other materials more exclusively possessed by foreign nations. In the most remote ages the Eskimo on those trading expeditions appear to have overpassed their present southern limits. This may be gathered partly from pure Eskimo words being found in the language of more southern tribes, partly from the sagas of the old Scandinavians, who seem to have met travelling Eskimo even to the south of Newfoundland. In more modern times, a regular trading communication has been discovered, by means of which certain articles from Asia have reached the Eskimo of the middle territories, perhaps even sometimes the shores of Davis Strait or Hudson Bay; and others, on the other hand, have travelled from there to Behring Strait,—all through internal trading carried on among [p.12] the natives themselves. No communication of this kind seemed to have existed between the tracts last named and Greenland; but the inhabitants of different parts of Greenland, with the exception of the northernmost tribes, have always maintained an intercommunication. The European settlements have, of course, entirely altered or annihilated this intercourse; but even while it existed, the mutual trade among the natives has scarcely given rise to any organisation of labour, or furthered any kind of industry which might have been of some consequence for the development of certain manufactures. Every community of kindred being in possession of a boat and a tent, must be able to provide what is necessary to secure themselves a comfortable life, except the few articles mentioned as among the principal articles of trade.

II—LANGUAGE

Of all the original American languages, perhaps none has been so minutely scrutinised, both lexicographically and grammatically, as that of the Greenlanders. The Labrador dialect also belongs to the better known amongst them. But as regards the dialect spoken by the western Eskimo on the shores of Behring Strait, our only source of information is a few lists of words given by travellers of different nations, partly modified by translation. Such exist in Russian, English, and German. There are also a few very scanty grammatical remarks given by a single author. These lists are inevitably exceedingly imperfect copies of the original words. They have been procured by questioning natives, which has been partly done by gestures and [p.13] through interpreters of little intelligence; and then the structure is so widely different from that of European languages, that a single word in most cases has no corresponding word in these, but requires several for its complete expression. The sounds, too, may make a different impression on different hearers—may be imperfectly expressed in Russian, English, and German writing, and this also may not be free from errors of transcription. All this may cause any amount of misunderstanding. Let us first take up the question of a variety of dialects, where closer examination will perhaps show the contrary. These authors alluded to mention about eight different Eskimo dialects round Behring Strait. Some examples will explain how the supposed differences between the words here and in Greenland may have originated. For instance, wife is called nulijak and ahanak; man, uika and nuhelpach; baby, mukisskok; shoulders, tuichka and tuik; hand, tatlichka and aiged; dying, tukko and tukoeuchtuk; cold, ninhlichtu and paznachtuk; heat, matschachtuk and uknachtuk; fire, eknek and knk (!), Let us now take what we find in the Greenlandish dictionary and grammar: nuliaĸ, wife (of a man); arnaĸ, woman; uviga, my husband; nukagpiaĸ, unmarried man; mikissoĸ, small; tuvíka, my shoulders; tuvik, shoulders; tatdlíka, my arms; agssait, fingers or hand; toĸo, death; toĸussoĸ, dead; nigdlertoĸ, cool; panertoĸ, dry; masagtoĸ, wet; ûnartoĸ, hot; ingneĸ, fire. The apparent differences between these two lists seem evidently to have arisen from mere misunderstanding, without any real variation between the languages. On comparing, in the same manner, the rest of the lists of words from Behring Strait, two-thirds or three-fourths of the words are found to be more or less Greenlandish. Moreover, taking into consideration the manner in which travellers have been enabled to communicate with one tribe of Eskimo, by interpreters taken from another, and that the difference between the Greenland [p.14] and the Labrador is smaller than, for instance, between Swedish and Danish, one is induced to assume an affinity of language among all the real Eskimo sufficient to allow mutual intercourse everywhere. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that the language of the Eskimo to the west of the Mackenzie is considerably different from that of the eastern tribes.

Taking it for granted that Greenlandish may be held to represent the Eskimo tongue in general, we shall endeavour to give an idea of its remarkable construction. Its most striking general peculiarity is the length of its words; and this, in fact, expresses its chief dissimilarity from all languages, except the American. What in other tongues may demand a whole sentence, and even additional dependent sentences, in Greenlandish may sometimes be expressed by a single verb. Consequently, Greenlandish grammar has both to construct words and to fix them in the sentence. This construction is effected by the help of additional elements or imperfect words, having no meaning by themselves, but expressive as additions to the main word, with which they can be combined in varieties of number and order, every combination altering or modifying the sense of the radical or adding a certain complexity of notions to it. Composition is completed by flexion, and particularly by conjugation, which not only, as in several other dialects, can make the verb include a pronoun as subject, but also as object, and in this way can form a sentence by itself, whereby these additional elements may render the sentence compound, or even include other sentences. The following abstract of Samuel Kleinschmidt's Greenlandish grammar will give a sufficient idea of this process:—

Writing and pronunciation.—The language is written with the same letters as the German, only omitting some, and with the addition of the following:—

ĸ, differing from k by its being formed in the remotest [p.15] part of the mouth, and sounding as something between gh, rk, and rkr.
r’, sounding like a very guttural German ch. [The letter r is sometimes, but not necessarily, marked with an apostrophe, or headed by a comma, to make it sound like a very guttural German ch.]
ss, like the French j.
ng and rng, nasal sounds.

The pronunciation of the vowels is often modified by the next consonants. The letter a is often heard as in the English word at. The accents ´ ^ ~, which show whether the syllable is to be pronounced sharp, long, or long combined with sharp, are of the greatest importance as to the sense of a word. Otherwise, the letters have mostly the same power as in German and the Scandinavian tongues.

Greenlandish likes simplicity in its syllables, preferring those composed of one vowel and one consonant. More than one consonant in a syllable is not allowed, if any harshness should arise. No word can end with other consonants than ĸ, k, p, and t, nor begin with others than these, and m, n, and s. All the combinations of consonants possible in the structure of words are limited to thirty.

Parts of speech.—The words are composed of the stem and the enclitic for flexion. The stem can be changed, even abbreviated to the root, which is the part always remaining.

The stems are divided into (1) primitive, as igdlo, house; (2) added, as ssuaĸ, great or large; lik, having or endowed with. The latter can never be used alone, but must be appended to the former singly, or followed by more, as igdlorssuaĸ, a large house; igdlorssualik, one who has a large house. These added stems, which perhaps originally were words, are numerous as well as completely movable, and can be embodied in the word as required by the meaning. Affixes of this kind are of course not wanting in our better-known European languages, but are by no means so numerous or serviceable as in Greenlandish. On the other hand, the formation [p.16] of compound words by simply joining other real words, is completely unknown in Greenlandish.

With regard to their endings, both kinds of stems are divided into (1) nominal, having of themselves the meaning of nouns; (2) verbal, which, with their proper endings, are only used exceptionally in phrases, or with the sense of interjections, but for the verbal purpose require a particular addition, which is the part altered through the conjugation—for instance, ajoĸ and pisuk are incomplete words, giving the notions of illness and going, but with the verbal ending they give ajorpoĸ, he is bad; pisugpoĸ, he goes. By help of the same ending also, nouns can be converted into verbs, but only a few of them, and then they comprise some peculiar additional signification, such as that of acquiring or getting, as âtâĸ, a seal; âtârpoĸ, he caught a seal.

In the way here described, the stems give rise to nouns and verbs; and in reality these are nearly the only elements of speech in this tongue, which otherwise has only some particles or inflexible words, and even these seem to have had the same source, whereas all the other parts of speech are more or less directly to be looked for in the nouns and verbs, the pronouns especially in the latter.

The grammatical forms.—Flexion is obtained by help of some additional endings, combined with more or less modification of the word. It comprises the number—viz., singular, dual, and plural; and as to the verbs, also persons, as igdlo, a house; igdluk, two houses; igdlut, several houses; takuvoĸ, he sees; takuvugut, we see. Next, the flexions express something relating to another thing, either as a property or as an object; and in these cases they have obtained the name of suffixes, as igdlua, his house; igdluvut, our houses; takuvâ, he sees it; takuvavut, we see them. Moreover, the nouns, besides their simple form, in which they are used as objects, and which on this account is called objective, also [p.17] have a subjective form given to them, either in case of their being possessors (corresponding to genitive) or subjects in a transitive sentence, as teriangniaĸ, the fox; teriangniap, the fox's; teriangniaĸ takuvâ, he sees the fox; teriangniap takuvâ, the fox sees him. In nouns flexion also takes the place of prepositions, by help of cases answering to the questions where, in what way, whereto, in what manner,—as nuna, land; nuname, on the land; nunavtinut, to our land. Lastly, in verbs the flexion comprises seven moods—viz., indicative, interrogative, optative, conjunctive, subjunctive, infinitive, and participle.

While end-flexion thus expresses the relations in a remarkable manner, on the other hand it has no form for sex and tense. The context must show whether the verb has the sense of present or past, and otherwise time is expressed more distinctly by help of additional stems containing the notions of begins to, has finished, is going to, joined to the original verb.

As regards nouns particularly, they all in their objective form end in a vowel, or in ĸ, k, and t, the subjective taking p, the dual k, and the plural t. There are two kinds of suffixes expressing the relation to the subject itself, or to another; and besides this, every suffix has its peculiar form for number, subjective, objective, and the local cases. But in order to add the above flexional letters, the nouns themselves, in certain cases, must be somewhat modified; and the rules for this transformation are nearly the only complicated part of Greenlandish grammar. Yet the natives would seem sometimes not to consider this transformation absolutely necessary in correct speaking, saying igdlo, house; igdlut, houses; but tupeĸ, tent; tovĸit, or also tupit, tents. Excepting these transformations, the numerous forms may be represented by help of a scheme which can be written on a quarto page.

The verbs are divided, according to the mark of the [p.18] third person indicative, into five classes, with endings as follow: poĸ, rpoĸ, gpoĸ, voĸ, and aoĸ, but each still to be conjugated according to the same scheme, which comprises all the numerous combinations of these forms—viz., numbers, persons, suffixes, and moods—and still, on account of its regularity, can be written on one folio page. Negation is expressed by the additional stem ngilaĸ, which is conjugated in a somewhat peculiar manner.

In consequence of what has just been explained, personal pronouns generally are of no use. Still, some words of pronominal signification exist, used when the person must be expressed more distinctly; but even those words seem to have been formed by help of suffixes, such as uvanga, I, which perhaps originally signified, my being here. However, of demonstrative roots twelve are found corresponding to the notions here (ma), north, south, there, above, &c. Without any addition or flexion, they only occur as interjections, but otherwise always as nouns, answering to the questions—where, whence, which way, and whereto. Of these roots, pronouns for the third person are formed by adding na, with the sense of, this here (mána), he there in the north, &c.

The real numerals only run from 1 to 5, like the fingers on one hand, then the fingers on the other are enumerated, and afterwards, if necessary, the toes on the feet. For this reason 20 is called "the man finished." The rest are expressed by some partitive word showing the number counted, as atauseĸ, 1; mardluk, 2; pingasut, 3; sisamat, 4; tatdlimat, 5; but arfineĸ pingasut, 8 (or 3 upon the other hand); 24 is called 4 upon the second man, and 80, finishing 4 men.

Construction of words.—We have already mentioned the signification of the stems. These are derived from roots, and it must be supposed that either several stems have a common root, or that several roots have been [p.19] related to each other, as, for example, ĸôĸ, urine; and kûk, a river. But the grammar does not explain the origin of the stems, whose formation is considered as accomplished and fixed; and here we shall only try to give an idea of their further application in constructing words. With the exception only of the verbal ending, necessary for the formation of real verbs, words are always composed or formed by help of the additional stems, also called affixes. These are divided into (1) the transforming class, by which verbs can be converted into nouns, or nouns into verbs; (2) the formative class, by which the word remains unchanged in this respect.

A selection of the most remarkable additional stems or affixes.

I. ADDED NOUNS OR NOMINAL AFFIXES.

1. Transforming.

toĸ or ssoĸ, being or doing so, consequently a sort of nominal participle, as ajorpoĸ, he is bad; ajortok, a bad one; autdlarpoĸ, he goes away; autdlartoĸ, he who is departed.
taĸ, ssaĸ or gaĸ, representing a kind of passive participle, as tûniúpâ, he gives it; túniússaĸ, what is given, a present.
fik, the time or place, when or where the action has passed.
ut or t, the means or reason for the action, as agdlagpoĸ, he writes; agdlaut, a thing to write with, pen, ink, and also the object described.

2. Formative.

a. Adjective-like or neutral, which alter the stem-word in no essential way.

gssaĸ, destined for or future, as pôĸ, a bag; pûgssaĸ, a cloth or skin for making a bag.
ssuaĸ, large or very, as igdlorssuaĸ, a large house; ajortorssuaĸ, very bad.
nguaĸ, small or little.
tsiaĸ or atsiaĸ, tolerable or somewhat.

[p.20]

b. Substantive-like, which make the stem-word totally subordinate.

lik, provided with.
mio, inhabitant of.
ussaĸ, like or similar, as sioraĸ, sand; sioraussaĸ, something like sand, among other meanings used for raw sugar.

II. ADDITIONAL VERBS OR VERBAL AFFIXES.

1. Transforming.

gâ or râ, has for, uses as, regards as—erneĸ, son; ernerâ, he has him for a son.
ĸarpoĸ, has or there is, as savik, a knife; saveĸarpoĸ, he has a knife, or there is a knife.
liorpoĸ, makes, builds.
liarpoĸ, travels or goes to.
uvoĸ, is; savik, a knife; saviuvoĸ, it is a knife.
sivoĸ, gains or acquires.

2. Formative.

a. Neutral, with a meaning partly as auxiliary verbs, partly as adverbs.

savoĸ, will or shall; saveĸásavoĸ, he shall have or will get a knife.
niarpoĸ, endeavours to.
dluarpoĸ, well, sufficiently; ingerdlavoĸ, it moves; ingerdlavdluarpoĸ, it goes quick.
ngârpoĸ, highly; angivoĸ, it is large; angingârpoĸ, is very large.
tarpoĸ, repeatedly or using to.

b. Intransitive.

juipoĸ, never.
gajugpoĸ, is bending to, likes to.
narpoĸ, is to make one; masagpoĸ, is wet; masangnarpoĸ, is to grow wet from.

c. Transitive.

tipâ, causes him to; autdlarpoĸ, goes away; autdlartípá, he sends him away.
rĸuvâ, commands or wishes that he.
serpâ, waits till he; tikipoĸ, he comes; tikitserpâ, is waiting till he comes.

[p.2]] It is by combining a series of these added stems to the principal stem, that such an extraordinary complexity of ideas can be conveyed in a single word. Only the more intelligent, however, are perfectly skilled in this operation, and the number of affixes attached to one primitive stem seldom amounts to ten. The order in which they are linked to one another depends on the meaning, besides certain particular rules for each of them; but they are always put after the primitive stem, and the flexion always ends the word. The total number of affixes is about two hundred. As a sample, we shall try here to compose a word of some of the stems given above—

igdlor-ssua-tsia-lior-fi-gssa-liar-ĸu-gamiuk.

This word consists of a primitive stem, seven affixes, and lastly the flexion for the third person conjunctive with the suffix for him. It signifies—as he commanded (or wished) him to go to the place, where the tolerably large house shall be built.

igdlu-gssar-si-ni-uti-ger-ĸu-vara.

This word is constructed of one primitive and six additional stems, with the flexion for the first person indicative, and the suffix for him or it, and signifies—I ordered him to use it as a means for buying (endeavouring to get) house-materials (a future house).

Syntax.—In consequence of what has been explained above, much of what in other dialects belongs to syntax, in Greenland is represented by composing words and by flexion. There is a very sharp distinction between the verbs as transitive, intransitive, or having both qualities at once. The exclusively transitive verbs always require a suffix; where this is wanting they grow reflective—for instance, toĸúpâ, he killed him; but toĸúpoĸ, he killed, always supposes himself.

Among the seven moods of the verb, the infinitive and the participle do not exactly correspond to what are [p.22] so called in other languages. The infinitive is very often used like the participle in a run of sentences, to express what in other tongues is obtained by help of while, then, as, during, &c, The participle exhibits the peculiarity of only in some degree corresponding to a noun, on which account it has been called a verbal participle. It can become the object, but not the subject of a sentence. On the other hand, even in this mood the verb includes at once its own subject and its object, for which reason the participle is used for subordinate sentences, as takugâ, he who sees him; takugingma, thou who seest me; takugivkit, I who see thee; nalugavkit (of naluvâ, he does not know it), takugingma, as I did not know thee, thee who saw me—viz., as I did not know that thou sawest me; naluvarma takugivkit, thou didst not know that I saw thee.

Lastly, it must be remembered that in agreement with what has already been explained, if even a sentence has its subject and object expressed by particular nouns, its verb nevertheless must indicate both by aid of the suffix in its ending, as inûp igdlo takuvâ, the man (s)—the house—he saw it,—viz., the man saw the house.

III—SOCIAL ORDER, CUSTOMS, AND LAWS

As a matter of course, what we have now to treat on is closely connected with what has already been said regarding the sustenance and mode of life peculiar to the Eskimo, because the life of a hunting people appears to require or give rise to a certain natural partnership or joint possession of goods confined to wider or smaller circles of the inhabitants, and directed by certain laws or customs. What one individual gains by his own labour being, in [p.23] consequence of this partnership, made accessible to others, this restriction of his right of property must necessarily be counterbalanced by certain obligations on the part of others; or, in other words, the right of property being in a peculiar way restricted with all the hunting nations, the personal rights and duties must have their corresponding peculiarities. In dealing with this part of our subject, we shall first treat of the division of the inhabitants into smaller communities; second, of the mutual rights and obligations of the individuals and of those communities as regards persons as well as property; and lastly, of the larger or smaller public meetings, which at once represent the national rejoicings and the courts of justice, by which the laws were maintained.

The smaller communities or subdivisions which were based upon a certain partnership, we have already alluded to as falling under the three following classes—the family, the inhabitants of a house, and the inhabitants of a wintering place or hamlet. But scarcely any further connection of this kind can be traced between the different wintering places.

Firstly, regarding the family. Scarcely anywhere did more than a very few of the men appear to have more than one wife, but the right of divorce and of taking another wife seems to have been tolerated without any definite restriction. Divorce, however, as well as polygamy and the exchange of wives, which is also mentioned as having existed, was only approved of by public opinion in so far as it aimed at propagation, especially of male descendants. The betrothal was managed in three ways—by mediators, as being fixed on from childhood, and by compulsion. But the wedding itself seems rarely to have taken place without some degree of force having been practised upon the bride—a custom of very universal use among so-called savage races. It also seems that the engagement had first to be settled with the bride's parents and [p.24] brothers, and that their consent in every case was requisite. A girl having many and eligible suitors, but the parents and brothers being unwilling to part with her, is a very common theme in the traditional tales. The wedding was performed without any special ceremony, and without imposing any peculiar obligations. The bride brought along with her her clothes, an "oolo," or semicircular knife, and generally a lamp. The family in a narrower sense comprised foster-children, as well as widows and other helpless persons, who were adopted into it on the ground of relationship, and more or less occupied the place of servants. We are inclined to believe that the so-called slaves or war-prisoners of the western Eskimo live under conditions similar to those held by the latter. The use of slaves as an article for barter is not so contrary to the ideas of social order in general as one would at first incline to believe. We only need to call attention to a tale in which a company of brothers are spoken of as being unwilling to allow their sister to marry till one of them happened to acquire a good friend, whom he persuaded to take her solely with the view of making him his brother-in-law. This story is in no way offensive to the feelings of the Greenlanders. But, on the other hand, their mode of life and of housekeeping hardly seems to allow of these slaves being treated otherwise than as subordinate members of the family. In a wider sense the family comprised married children, where these did not found a separate household by acquiring a separate boat and a tent for summer-travels. The joint ownership and use of these belongings, and the common labour and toil in obtaining the means of support by their aid, seems consequently to define the real community of family or kindred. The right of being adopted into the family may also be claimed by the parents-in-law. The new-married couple used to join the parents of one party, and as soon as the parents of the other were no longer able to [p.25] support themselves, they also took up their abode with the children. Besides these, brothers or sisters without providers, and widows of brothers, were also adopted by the family, as circumstances might require it. Where a mother-in-law was a member of the family, the daughter-in-law or wife of the master of the house was subordinate to her. The husband also had the right of punishing his wife by striking her in the face with just sufficient force to leave visible traces. But the children were never, and still less the servants, subjected to any corporeal punishment. If a man had two wives, the last was always considered as a concubine only, but succeeded the first in case of death. In cases of divorce the son always followed the mother. As a result of these arrangements every family generally had more than one provider. Widows or unmarried women with children rarely set up housekeeping by themselves, and were generally provided for by their housemates or kindred. If there was more than one son, the subsequent ones sometimes, on acquiring a boat and tent, left home and established a separate family or household. The owner of a boat or a tent was thus considered the chief or head of the family, and it was principally he who was called the igtuat of the others. Simpson mentions the chiefs on Point Barrow as Oomeliks, which no doubt must be the Greenlandish umialik, signifying owner of a boat, and thus is in strict accordance with what has just been said. When a man died, the oldest son inherited the boat and tent, along with the duties incumbent on the provider. If no such grown-up son existed, the nearest relative took his place and adopted the children of the deceased as his foster-children. But when these were grown up, and had themselves become providers, their widowed mother was at liberty to establish a separate household with them, without any further obligation to the foster-father. As regards inheritance in general, it must be remembered, that [p.26] among the Greenlanders it represented a question of obligations and burdens rather than of personal gain. Moreover, the only real hereditary goods—viz., the boat and tent—required annual repair and covering with new skins, almost as many as one hunter on an average could procure during the whole year. Lastly, it must be noticed that, even if the family were divided by removing to distant winter-quarters, the ties of relationship were always respected whenever mutual assistance was required.

The next kind of community was that of the housemates, where more than one family agreed to inhabit the same house. This, as a general custom, has perhaps only existed in Greenland, where often three or four, sometimes even more, families housed together. Each of these families, however, in the main maintained their own household; every family in the narrower sense—viz., the married couple with their children—having its own room on the main ledge with its lamp standing in front of it, while the unmarried people and the guests slept on the window and side ledges. As the house was built and repaired by joint labour, it could scarcely be said to have any particular owner; or if there happened to be one, he would only have all the burdens and obligations without any real rights as to possession. But among the heads of the several families one was generally found who was held in greater esteem than the rest by all the housemates, though not in the same degree as the members of a family respected their so-called igtuat.

The third kind of community is what we may call place-fellows—viz., inhabitants of the same hamlet or wintering place. Only in exceptional cases might a single house be found at such a place. When it is considered how widely the population was spread, and how distant the hamlets were from each other, it will be understood as a matter of course that the inhabitants living together on [p.27] such a sequestered spot must continually come into contact with each other in the hamlet itself, as well as in their common hunting-places, which made them form a band or community separated from the rest of the population. But still less than among the housemates was any one belonging to such a place to be considered as chief, or as endowed with any authority to command his place-mates. The folk-lore in many cases shows how men who had succeeded in acquiring such a power were considered as usurpers of undue authority, and vanquishing or killing them ranked as a benefit to the community in general. However, it was a standing rule that nobody from a distance could settle down for good at the place without the general consent of its inhabitants.

THE PRINCIPAL LAWS WITH REGARD TO PROPERTY AND GAIN WERE AS FOLLOWS:—

Of every seal caught at a winter station during the whole season of their dwelling in the winter-houses, small pieces of flesh, with a proportionate share of the blubber, were distributed among all the inhabitants; or if insufficient for so many, the housemates first got their share. Nobody was omitted on these occasions, and in this way not the very poorest could want food and lamp-oil so long as the usual capture of seals did not fail. Besides this general distribution, every man who had taken a seal used to invite the rest to partake of a meal with him. It must, however, be understood, that where the population of a place exceeded a certain number, or at times when the seals were very plentiful, this sharing of flesh and blubber, either by distribution or by feasting, would probably be limited, in the first case, to perhaps some of the nearest houses or relatives.

Beyond the confines of such places as were already inhabited, every one was at liberty to put up his house [p.28] and go hunting and fishing whenever he chose. Not even where others had first established a fishing-place, by making weirs across a river, would any objection be made to other parties making use of these, or even injuring them.

Any one picking up pieces of driftwood or goods lost at sea or on land was considered rightful owner of them; and to make good his possession, he had only to carry them up above high-water mark and put stones upon them, no matter where his homestead might be.

If a seal was harpooned and got off with the harpoon sticking in it, the first striker lost his right to it as soon as the hunting-bladder became detached. It then became the property of whoever found and finally killed it. This would take place when the animal had been hit with the large harpoon and the hunting-line snapped, while the small harpoon or bladder-arrow has the bladder attached to it. But if the animal ran far away with the bladder-arrow, the first hunter also lost his claim, just as if the bladder had been wanting. The weapons attached to the animal were restored to the proper owner when he announced himself.

Any other kind of goods found were considered the property of the finder.

If two hunters at the same time hit a bird or a seal, it was divided into equal parts with the skin attached. But if this happened with a reindeer, the animal belonged to the one whose arrow had reached nearest the heart, the other only getting part of the flesh.

All kinds of game or animals which happened to be rare, on account of their size or other unusual circumstances, were more than ordinary species considered common property. Of walrus and the smaller cetaceous animals, in localities where they were rarely found, the killer only took the head and tail, the remainder being given up to public use. This was also the case on the first capture of such animals as only appeared at certain seasons, or [p.29] with any animal caught during times of long want and bad luck to the hunters. But if an animal of the largest size, more especially a whale, was captured, it was considered common property, and as indiscriminately belonging to every one who might come and assist in flensing it, whatever place he belonged to, and whether he had any share in capturing the animal or not. The flensing was also managed without any order or control; and if any one happened to wound another on such an occasion, he was not held answerable for it.

In South Greenland, where bears are rarely seen, it is said that, on a bear being killed, it belongs to whoever first discovered it, setting aside altogether the person who killed it.

When no seals or other larger animals were brought home to a house, those families who were best off for provisions generally invited the other housemates, but not the place-fellows, to partake of the principal daily meal with them; or one or two families went joint shares in this, each contributing something.

If a man had borrowed the tools or weapons of another, and lost or injured them, he was not bound to give the owner any compensation for the loss or damage. Moreover, if any one neglected to make use of his fox-traps, and another went and had them set and looked after, the latter became owner of the game captured.

If a man repented of a bargain, he had a right to retract it. Nothing was sold on credit, at least not without being paid for very soon.

Looking at what has been said regarding the rights of property and the division of the people into certain communities, in connection with the division of property into the classes just given, we are led to the conclusion that the right of any individual to hold more than a certain amount of property was, if not regulated by law, at least jealously watched by the rest of the community; and [p.30] that, virtually, the surplus of any individual or community—fixed by the arbitrary rate which tradition or custom had assigned—was made over to those who had less. From this point of view, the first class of goods would be what belonged to a single person—viz., his clothes, weapons, and tools, or whatever was specially used by himself. These things were even regarded as having a kind of supernatural relation to the owner, reminding us of that between the body and the soul. Lending them to others was not customary; but if a person owned more suits than usual, public opinion would doubtless compel him to allow others to make use of them. The custom just mentioned, that a borrowed article which was lost or damaged need not necessarily be returned or compensated to the owner, strikingly shows that if a man had anything to spare or lend, it was considered superfluous to him, and not held with the same right of possession as his more necessary belongings, but to be ranked among those goods which were possessed in common with others. The consequence was, that superfluous garments or implements rarely existed. Only a few first-rate hunters possessed two kayaks, one fitted for the open sea and another for the sheltered inlets; but if he did happen to have three kayaks, he would at times be obliged to lend one of them to some relative or housemate, and sooner or later would lose it. The next class of property was what belonged to the whole family—the boat and tent, the provisions collected during the summer season, and lastly, a small store of skins and other articles intended either for family use or for bartering purposes. The third class consisted of what belonged to the housemates in common—viz., the house itself, the supply of victuals sufficient for certain meals, &c. A fourth class we may make comprise what was shared with the inhabitants of the same hamlet, such as the flesh and blubber derived from all the seals caught during the [p.31] stay in winter-quarters. A fifth and last class might be added, comprising those spoils which, either on account of the size of the captured animal, or sometimes owing to great scarcity and famine, were shared with the inhabitants of the neighbouring hamlets.

Some of the laws or customs above described concerning property—as, for instance, those that relate to things found—which at first sight may appear very strange, will find their explanation on closer inspection, and with due consideration of the peculiar localities, the long distances, and the scanty population, on account of which any article lost could hardly be expected to be recovered in a state still fit for use. But as to the principal peculiarities, it naturally follows that the members of the different communities, in profiting by the gains of so dangerous and toilsome a trade as that of the seal-hunter, could not be exempted from certain mutual obligations. The principal of these obligations were as follows:—

The duty of providing, and the right of being adopted into a family, have already been described in connection with the mutual relationship of its members. In order to become housemates, an agreement between the families in question was of course required. So also, if a new family wished to settle at an inhabited place, the newcomers had to wait the consent of the people already settled there, which was given by means of certain signs of civility or welcome, the strangers having meanwhile put their boat ashore, but not yet begun bringing up their goods. If those signs were not given, they put off again, and went on to look for another place.

It might be considered a law that every man, as far as he was able to do it, should practise the trade of a hunter on the sea, until he was either disabled by old age or had a son to succeed him. This duty neglected, he brought upon himself the reprehensions not only of the other members of his own family, but also of the wider [p.32] community. So also he was in duty bound to bring up his sons to the same business from their early childhood.

From their living together in small habitations, a friendly way of conversing was necessary; and all high words or quarrelling are considered as unlawful. The Greenlandish language is therefore devoid of any real words for scolding. The general mode of uttering annoyance at an offence is by silence; whereas the slightest harshness in speaking, even to younger or subordinate persons, is considered as an offence in so far that it may give rise to violent quarrels and ruptures.

In what has now been said, as in general, we have mainly had in view the Greenlanders under ordinary conditions. We have, however, also noted, that the rules of property were necessarily subjected to several modifications, according to the size of the houses, the hamlets, and other local circumstances. Where among the western Eskimo one place is said to contain 50 houses and 300 inhabitants, the housemates here must have represented the family as well, and the population have been too numerous to allow of any general distribution of flesh and blubber during the winter. In such cases it would be reasonable to suppose that the inmates of a certain number of houses were united, and made a community by themselves, like that of a whole hamlet in Greenland. Nobody being able to acquire and accumulate property beyond certain limits, and the state and conditions of the different households being all alike even there, the principles of social institutions among the western Eskimo can hardly be supposed to have differed much from those of the Greenlanders.

No court of justice was established as a special authority to secure the maintenance of the laws. With exception of the part which the angakoks, or the relatives of an offended person, took in inflicting punishment upon the delinquent, public opinion formed the judgment-seat, [p.33] the general punishment consisting in the offenders being shamed in the eye of the people; and the only regular courts were the public meetings or parties, which at the same time supplied the national sports and entertainments, and greatly contributed to strengthen and maintain the national life.

The first kind of meetings were those which daily occurred when the men returned from their seal-hunt and invited each other to partake of whatever they had brought home. The men alone partook of those meals, the females getting their share afterwards. During these meals the events of the day were told and commented on, several matters of common interest discussed, and the had behaviour, or perhaps vices, of some individuals censured and blamed.

The other kind of meetings consisted of the real festivals, which were most commonly held in the middle of the winter; though they also took place during summer, when, of course, the guests could be more numerous. Besides eating and talking, the principal entertainments on those occasions consisted in (1) different games and matches of strength and agility; (2) singing and drum-playing, with dancing and declamation; (3) satirical songs, or nith-songs, which, properly speaking, represented the court of justice.

Playing at ball was the favourite game, and managed in two different ways,—either by throwing the ball from one person to the other among the same partners while the opposite party was trying to get hold of it; or each of the sides had its mark, at a distance of 300 to 400 paces, which they tried to hit with the ball, kicking it along with the foot from either side. The athletic exercises or matches consisted in wrestling with arms and fingers, different exercises on lines stretched beneath the roof, kayak-races, boxing on level ground, and several other games.

[p.34] The songs and declamations were at times performed in the open air, but generally at the feast, immediately after the meal, and by the men alternately. The singer stood forth on the floor with his drum—a ring 1½ foot in diameter with a skin stretched on it—beating it with a stick in accompaniment to his song, adding gesticulations, and dancing at intervals. The nith-songs just mentioned were of a peculiar kind, used for settling all kinds of quarrels, and punishing any sort of crime, or breach of public order or custom, with the exception of those which could only be expiated by death, in the shape of the blood-revenge. If a person had a complaint against another, he forthwith composed a song about it, and invited his opponent to meet him, announcing the time and place where he would sing against him. Generally, and always in cases of importance, both sides had their assistants, who, having prepared themselves for this task, could act their parts if their principals happened to be exhausted. These songs also were accompanied by drum-playing and dancing. The cheering or dissent of the assembly at once represented the judgment as well as the punishment.

As regards real crimes, those in violation of the rights of property, as a matter of course, can only have been trifling; on the other hand, the passions of the people tending to ambition, domineering, or the mere fancy for making themselves feared, sometimes gave rise to violence and murder. The practice of witchcraft must also, be ranked among this class—those who believed, or even confessed themselves able to practise it, being stimulated by almost the same passions, and punished in the same way if suspected. When the witches, on being threatened with death, did not deny their guilt, the only passion which can have incited them seems to have been a kind of ambition; and this is quite in accordance with the angakoks being their principal adversaries, denouncing [p.35] them, and inflicting punishment upon them. Murder, and under certain circumstances witchcraft, were, as a rule, punished with death, which was carried out in two different ways—either as revenge of blood, or being duly deliberated upon by the inhabitants of one or more stations. To fulfil the blood-revenge was the duty of the nearest relative; and having performed it, he had to denounce himself to the relatives of him whom he had killed. Capital punishment, as the result of deliberation and decree, was inflicted upon witches, and upon such individuals as were obviously dangerous to the whole community, or at least suspected of being so. Lastly, some cases of manslaughter occurred which were considered neither decidedly admissible nor altogether unlawful. These were as follow: The killing of an infant that, from the loss of its mother, would be liable to die from starvation; the killing of insane persons threatening the life of the housemates; and lastly, the continued blood-revenge or this revenge carried out on some kindred or place-fellow of the murderer.

IV—RELIGION

The following account of the religious belief of the Eskimo is principally founded upon the traditions—the author having made inquiries among the natives as to all that appeared doubtful and obscure, and lastly, completing this information with the help of the oldest authors. The whole information thus brought together has been divided and arranged with a view to making it as convenient and intelligible to the reader as possible: a more complete understanding of several portions of it must be sought in the tales themselves.

[p.36]

1. GENERAL IDEAS CONCERNING THE EXISTENCE OF THE WORLD, THE SUPREME POWERS, AND THE CONCEPTION OF GOOD AND EVIL.

Only very scanty traces have been found of any kind of ideas having been formed as to the origin and early history of the world, and the ruling powers or deities, which seems sufficiently to show that such mythological speculations have been, in respect to other nations, also the product of a later stage of culture. Existence in general is accepted as a fact, without any speculation as to its primitive origin. Only the still acting powers concealed in nature, and to which human life is subordinated, are taken into consideration.

Men, as well as animals, have both soul and body. The soul performs the breathing, with which it is closely allied. It is quite independent of the body, and even able to leave it temporarily and return to it. It is not to be perceived by the common senses, but only by help of a special sense belonging to persons in a peculiar state of mind, or endowed with peculiar qualities. When viewed by these persons, the soul exhibits the same shape as the body it belongs to, but is of a more subtle and ethereal nature. The human soul continues to live after death precisely in the same manner as before. The souls of animals also, to a certain degree, seem to have been considered as having an existence independent of the body, and continuing after its death. Here and there traces have also been found of a belief in the migration of souls, both between dead and living men, and between men and animals; but it remains uncertain whether this ought not rather to be explained as having an allegorical sense. Lastly, they say that the human soul may be hurt, and even destroyed; but on the other hand, it may also be fitted together again and repaired. We sometimes find it mentioned that the migration may be partial—viz., that some parts of the soul of a deceased [p.37] person may pass into another man and cause in him a likeness to the first.

The whole visible world is ruled by supernatural powers, or "owners," taken in a higher sense, each of whom holds his sway within certain limits, and is called inua (viz., its or his inuk, which word signifies "man," and also owner or inhabitant). Strictly speaking, scarcely any object, or combination of objects, existing either in a physical or a spiritual point of view, may not be conceived to have its inua, if only, in some way or other, it can be said to form a separate idea. Generally, however, the notion of an inua is limited to a locality, or to the human qualities and passions—e.g., the inua of certain mountains or lakes, of strength, of eating. The appellation, therefore, quite corresponds to what other nations have understood by such expressions as spirits, or inferior deities. An owner or ruler conveys the idea of a person or soul, but it appears not necessarily that of a body. The soul of the dead seems to have been considered as the inua of the bodily remains.

The earth, with the sea supported by it, rests upon pillars, and covers an under world, accessible by various entrances from the sea, as well as from mountain clefts. Above the earth an upper world is found, beyond which the blue sky, being of a solid consistence, vaults itself like an outer shell, and, as some say, revolves around some high mountain-top in the far north. The upper world exhibits a real land with mountains, valleys, and lakes. After death, human souls either go to the upper or to the under world. The latter is decidedly to be preferred, as being warm and rich in food. There are the dwellings of the happy dead called arsissut—viz., those who live in abundance. On the contrary, those who go to the upper world will suffer from cold and famine; and these are called the arssartut, or ball-players, on account of their playing at ball with a walrus-head, which gives rise to the aurora borealis, or Northern [p.38] lights. Further, the upper world must be considered a continuation of the earth in the direction of height, although those individuals, or at least those souls temporarily delivered from the body, that are said to have visited it, for the most part passed through the air. The upper world, it would seem, may be considered identical with the mountain round the top of which the vaulted sky is for ever circling—the proper road leading to it from the foot of the mountain upwards being itself either too far off or too steep. One of the tales also mentions a man going in his kayak to the border of the ocean, where the sky comes down to meet it.

The invisible rulers by which the earth is governed can scarcely be imagined without regarding them in some relation of dependency one on another. Inasmuch as we are allowed to consider almost every spot or supposed object a special dominion with its special inua ruling within certain limits, we might also be led to imagine several of those dominions as united, and made subordinate to one common ruler, by which means we would have a general government of the world under one supreme head ready organised. The mythology of the Greenlanders, however, does not contain any direct doctrine with such a tendency. Very scanty traces also have been found of any attempts towards explaining the origin of the world, as well as of things existing and their qualities, as, e.g., regarding some species of animals, besides the moon and several stars. Though it has been asserted the Greenlanders believe that the first of our race arose from the earth, and that the first man, called Kallak, created the first woman out of a tuft of sod, and also that some tradition exists about the Deluge, yet these statements cannot be accepted without doubt and reservation, because they may have partly originated from the questioners themselves, who pretend to have heard them from the Greenlanders, but have probably involuntarily acted upon the latter by [p.39] their prepossessed mode of questioning. Still, on looking at the whole religious views of the natives, they do seem to presuppose a single power by which the world is ruled. Certain means were believed to exist by which man was not only enabled to enter into communion with the invisible rulers, but could also make them his helpers and servants. Such supernatural assistance might be acquired in a more or less direct way—viz., either through men endowed with the peculiar gift called angakoonek (cor. spelling angákûneĸ, signifying angakok-wisdom or -power, or the state of being angakok). But these men only acquired this gift by applying to and calling on a yet more exalted power, which made these rulers become their helping or guardian spirits, or tornat (plural of tôrnaĸ). This supreme ruler was termed tornarsuk; and in his being thus enabled to dispose at will of all the minor powers, forcing them to serve the angakut, and in the same degree making the whole nature subordinate to mankind, some idea surely of the godhead must be connected with him. It also seems to have been ascertained that the Greenlanders have imagined him as having his abode in company with the happy deceased in the under world; but to this vague belief the whole doctrine concerning his existence seems to have been limited. The early authors on Greenland, indeed, have given utterance to different opinions concerning tornarsuk which they have gathered from the natives, some of them representing him as the size of a finger, others of a bear, and so on; but all these statements seem to rest upon error and superficial inquiry. As far as the traditions are concerned, the name of tornarsuk is very rarely mentioned in any of them.

Among the supernatural powers was another constituting the source of nourishment, supplying the physical wants of mankind. These being almost exclusively got from the sea, we cannot wonder that this power had its abode in the depths of the ocean; and its being represented [p.40] as a female is probably emblematical of the continual regeneration of life in nature, as well as of economy and household management, generally devolving on women. This being is named arnarkuagsak (cor. sp. arnarĸuagssâĸ, also signifying old woman in general); but the common opinion among the older authors, describing her as a demon of evil, is quite erroneous. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp, beneath which is placed a vessel receiving the oil that keeps flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, or from the dark interior of her house, she sends out all the animals which serve for food; but in certain cases she withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine. Her retaining them was ascribed to a kind of filthy and noxious parasites (agdlerutit, which also signifies abortions or dead-born children), which had fastened themselves around her head; and it was the task of the angakok to deliver her from these, and to induce her again to send out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he first had to pass the arsissut, and then to cross an abyss, in which, according to the earliest authors, a wheel was constantly turning round as slippery as ice; and then having safely got past a boiling kettle with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which a 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's edge.

According to the religious notions just given, there must have existed a generally established belief in the presence of some ruling power to which mankind and nature were alike subjected, as well as in certain modes of obtaining assistance from this power. This supernatural aid, as well as all the actions of men with a view to call it forth, were in social estimation considered as being good and proper. But besides this, there existed another supernatural influence, which was wholly [p.41] opposed to that which had its source from tornarsuk; and the art of summoning it was practised and taught from mouth to mouth by people not acknowledged or authorised by the community. It was always invoked in secret, and always with the object of injuring others, and wholly in favour of the practiser. This art was called kusuinek or iliseenek (cor. sp. ilisîneĸ), corresponding very exactly to witchcraft, and representing the worst form of evil, both with regard to the help obtained and the means of procuring it. The essence of it was selfishness in the narrowest sense, being alike adverse to the interest of the community and to the supreme rule of things existing in which the people believed. When we look at these ideas, as very strongly discerned and maintained by the Greenlanders, certain opinions not unfrequently professed by authors as to the religious creeds of the more primitive nations are shown to be utterly erroneous,—viz., first as regards confounding the practice of witchcraft with their calling to their aid supernatural powers, authorised and acknowledged by their religious beliefs; and secondly, the maintaining that those nations on a lower stage of civilisation were wholly without any conception of moral good and evil, and limited their regards to physical evil.

In the practice of iliseenek, or witchcraft, a power was applied to which was superior to mankind; and we might thus be led to suppose that this power represented an evil being or ruler in opposition to tornarsuk. Some mystical tradition is related by Egede, mentioning two men engaged in dispute, one desiring man to be subjected to death, and the other insisting upon his becoming immortal. The words spoken by them may perhaps be considered as magic spells, and the one of them is represented as having made death enter into the world. This legend is rather obscure, both with regard to its authenticity and its meaning; but the idea of death was closely connected with that of witchcraft, this latter always more [p.42] or less having death for its aim. Sickness or death coming about in an unexpected manner was always ascribed to witchcraft; and it remains a question whether death on the whole was not originally accounted for as resulting from it. The fact that witches were punished as transgressors of human laws, and were persecuted by the angakut, makes it possible that they represent the last remains of a still more primitive faith, which prevailed before the angakut sprang up and made themselves acknowledged as the only mediators between mankind and the invisible rulers of the world. These primitive religious notions may in that case have amounted to a belief in certain means being capable of acting on the occult powers of nature, and through them on the conditions of human life. Traces of the same belief were perhaps also preserved among the people in the shape of some slight acquaintance with the medical art, and superstitions regarding amulets, the knowledge of which was likewise peculiar to women. And allowing this supposition, we shall find the most striking analogy between the persecution of witches by the angakut and the persecution of the angakut by the Christian settlers, with this exception, that the Christian faith exhibits a personification of the evil principle which enabled the missionaries to vanquish for ever the authority of tornarsuk as the supreme ruler and source of benefits, by transforming him into the Christian devil, who for this reason henceforth was termed tornarsuk.

In the folk-lore of the Greenlanders, as well as of other nations, divine justice principally manifests itself in the present life. According to the older authors, they had also some faint ideas of punishment and reward after death. We learn from these that witches and bad people went to the upper world; whereas those who had achieved any great and heroic actions, or suffered severely in this life, such as men who had perished at sea, or women who had died in child-birth, went to the world below. At [p.43] the same time, some tales seem to hint at a belief that the manner in which the body of the deceased is treated by the survivors influences the condition of his soul. When closely examined, this belief is akin to the idea of punishment and reward corresponding to the actions performed in this life.

2. ON THE SUPERNATURAL AGENCIES BY WHICH HUMAN LIFE IS INFLUENCED.

By supernatural we understand such agencies as do not work according to the usual laws of nature, and accomplish their deeds in a manner imperceptible to the common organs of sense, except in a few rare instances, but only manifest themselves to certain individuals peculiarly gifted, or in some cases to animals; also endowed with a peculiar sense. This sense is generally called nalussaerunek, and the individual possessing it nalussaerutok, signifying, "not being unconscious of anything," consequently nearly the same as clairvoyant. Such agencies may be divided into those which are performed by the inue (plural of inua) of nature in general, and those belonging to witchcraft.

(1.) The Supernatural Rulers, or Inue.

These have already been mentioned. As far as they may be perceived by the common senses, they generally have the appearance of a fire or a bright light; and to see them is in every case very dangerous, partly by causing tatamingnek—viz., frightening to death—partly as foreshadowing the death of a relative (nâsârneĸ). Moreover, some of these powers are able, even at a distance, to sever the soul from the body (tarnêrutoĸ, he who is bereft of his soul; and perhaps also signifying, the soul in this way temporarily separated from the body). Heavy grief often produced a state of mind called suilârĸineĸ, in which the sufferer deliberately [p.44] went out in search of horrors and dangers, in order to deafen grief by means of excitement.

Although all the supernatural rulers may be considered as the inue each of their special domains, they also lead an independent existence as individual beings wholly apart from these, In the first place, it is possible even for man, and in certain cases animals, to practise a supernatural power from some motive or other; and secondly, some of the supernatural beings must no doubt be considered as having originated from real beings, only transfigured through the traditional tales.

As to men, they are invariably free after death to reappear as ghosts; but certain persons are in this respect more dangerous than others: and besides, some persons or people in a peculiar state of existence are even in life endowed with superhuman properties. Individuals belonging to this class in general are commonly called imáinaĸ íngitsut, which signifies, who are not only such,—meaning, as others; or, not of common kind. The dead man is considered as the inua of his grave, and of the personal properties he left, it is no doubt for this reason that things belonging to absent persons can by certain signs announce the death of their owners or their being in distress. The soul even appears to remain in the grave during the first days. The most harmless way in which a ghost can manifest himself is by whistling, the next by a singing in the ears (aviuiartorneĸ), by which performance he simply asks for food; and generally when singing in the ear is perceived, it is the custom to say: "Take as thou likest"—viz., of my stores. But more dangerous are the ghosts that appear in a true bodily shape, especially those of delirious people and of angakut. The deceased must also be considered fully able to recompense the benefits bestowed upon them during their lifetime, being a kind of guardian spirits to their children and grandchildren, especially to those who are [p.45] named after them. But a slain man is said to have power to avenge himself upon the murderer by rushing into him, which can only be prevented by eating a piece of his liver. Danger is more or less connected with everything appertaining to, or having been in any contact with, dead bodies, or used at funerals, the invisible rulers in some cases being apt to take offence, or have smoke or fog of it—viz., causing bad weather and bad hunting on this account.

Persons in an extraordinary state were as follow:—

A kivtgtok (correct spelling, ĸivigtoĸ), or a man who fled mankind and led a solitary life alone with nature, generally in the interior of the country, obtained an enormous agility, and became nalussaerutok, learned to understand the speech of animals, and acquired information about the state of the world-pillars. The reasons which led men to become kivigtok, were being unjustly treated, or being merely scolded by kindred or housemates, who in this case were always in danger of vengeance from the hand of the fugitive.

An anghiak (correct spelling, ángiaĸ) was an abortion, or a child born under concealment, which became transformed into an evil spirit, purposely to revenge himself upon his relatives. Akin to the anghiak were those who, either when new-born or at a maturer age, were converted into monsters, devouring their former housemates.

An angherdlartugsiak (correct spelling, angerdlartugsiaĸ) was a man brought up in a peculiar manner, with a view to acquiring a certain faculty, by means of which he might be called to life again and returned to land in case he should ever be drowned while kayaking (also called anginiartoĸ), For this purpose the mother had to keep a strict fast, and the child to be accustomed to the smell of urine, and be taught never to hurt a dog. Lastly, when placing him in the kayak for exercise, the father mumbled a prayer, beseeching his deceased [p.46] parents or grandparents to take the child under their protection. On coming back to shore certain things might scare him, whereas the dogs protected and took care of him.

As to animals, if in the tales they are represented as speaking, or in the shape of men, this is not always to be understood as analogous to fable. Partly it is in the power of beasts to show themselves in a supernatural shape, partly they may appear as ghosts, or in some state akin to that. Probably they must also be considered as the inue of their own kind, having the power of avenging their destruction. The so-called umiarissat (plural of umiariaĸ) is a supernatural "umiak," or women's boat and its crew, who are, in some cases at least, represented to be seals transformed into rowers.

Among the purely supernatural or fabulous beings, the following must be particularly mentioned:—

The ingnersuit (plural of ingnerssuaĸ, properly, great fire) have their abodes beneath the surface of the earth, in the cliffs along the sea-shore, where the ordinarily invisible entrances to them are found. They have also been noticed entering through mounds of turf. Probably these abodes have some connection with the real under world itself. They are divided into two classes, the upper and the lower ingnersuit. The former, called mersugkat or kutdlit, are benevolent spirits, protecting the kayakers. They have the shape of men, but a white skin, small noses, and reddish eyes. Their mode of life is like that of the Greenlanders themselves, only their houses and furniture are finer and richer. They often accompany the kayaker, assisting and taking care of him, but invisible to himself, and only to be seen by others at some distance. The lower ingnersuit, called atdlit, have no noses at all; they persecute the kayakers, especially the most skilled whom they know, dragging them down to their home in the deep, where they keep them in painful captivity.

[p.47] The kayarissat (plural of ĸajariaĸ) are kayakmen of an extraordinary size, who always seem to be met with at a distance from land beyond the usual hunting-grounds. They were skilled in different arts of sorcery, particularly in the way of raising storms and bringing bad weather. Like the umiarissat, they use one-bladed paddles, like those of the Indians. Pieces of bark from American canoes, which are sometimes brought ashore on the coast of Greenland, are named after both kinds.

The kungusutarissat (plural of ĸungusutariaĸ), or mermen, are considered as the proper inue of the sea. They are very fond of fox-flesh and fox-tails, which therefore are sacrificed to them in order to secure a good hunting. They are also declared enemies to petulant and disobedient children.

The inugpait are giants inhabiting a country beyond the sea, where all things have a size proportionate to them, and where also one-eyed people are found.

The tornit (plural of tuneĸ) are the most eminent among the inue of the interior. Their dwellings are partly situated in the tracts visited by men, but the entrance to them is hidden by vegetation and soil. They are twice the size of men, or even more, but lead the same kind of life. They also go hunting at sea, but only in foggy weather and without kayaks, sitting on the surface of the water. They are wise men, and know the thoughts of men before they are spoken.

The igaligdlit (plural of igalilik) are inlanders, who wander about with a pot on their shoulders, cooking their meat in it at the same time.

The isserkat (plural of isseraĸ) are inlanders also, called tukimut uisorersartut, those who twinkle or blink with their eyes longwise or in the direction of length.

The erkigdlit (plural of erĸileĸ) have the shape of man in the upper part of their body, but of dogs as to their lower limbs.

The inuarutligkat (plural of inuarutdligaĸ) are a kind [p.48] of dwarf, possessing a shooting-weapon, with which they are able to kill a creature by merely aiming or pointing at it.

Among the inlanders are also to be included the tarrayarsuit, or shadows, and the narrayout, or big-bellies. Several monsters reside at the bottom of lakes and inside certain rocks, and are named the inue of these places. Among these are to be ranked the amarsiniook and the kuinasarinook, referred to in the tales.

The amarok, which in other Eskimo countries signifies a wolf, in Greenland represents a fabulous animal of enormous size, also repeatedly referred to in the tales.

The kilivfak, also called kukoriaĸ, kukivfâgâĸ, ataliĸ, is an animal with six or even ten feet.

The kugdlughiak (correct spelling, ĸugdlugiaĸ) is a worm, sometimes of enormous size, with a number of feet, and extraordinary speed.

Other similar monsters mentioned in the tales are: The kukigsook, agshik, avarkiarsuk; the monster-foxes, hares, and birds, and the ice-covered bears.

The upper world is also inhabited by several rulers besides the souls of the deceased. Among these are the owners or inhabitants of celestial bodies, who, having once been men, were removed in their lifetime from the earth, but are still attached to it in different ways, and pay occasional visits to it. They have also been represented as the celestial bodies themselves, and not their inue only, the tales mentioning them in both ways. The owner of the moon originally was a man, called Aningaut, and the inua of the sun was his sister, a woman beautiful in front, but like a skeleton at her back. The moon is principally referred to in the tales.

The erdlaveersissok—viz., the entrail-seizer—is a woman residing on the way to the moon, who takes out the entrails of every person whom she can tempt to laughter.

The siagtut, or the three stars in Orion's belt, were [p.49] men who were lost in going out to hunt on the ice. These are mentioned in the tales in the same way as the igdlokoks, who have the shape of a man cleft in two lengthwise.

Among the rulers who are named only according to special domains, and whose number appears almost unlimited, are the inua of the air, the inua of appetite or eating, and the inerterrissok or the prohibitor—viz., he who lays down the rules for abstinence.

(2.) Witchcraft.

The practice of witchcraft has already been explained in the preceding pages as representing the principal source from which all the evils to which mankind is subject have their origin—viz., death, and what will more or less immediately lead to death, as sickness and famine. Generally, it is called kusuinek, and its performance may be limited to a single act; but those who have practised it to a certain degree are called iliseetsut (plural of ilisîtsoĸ), witches or wizards. It appears to have been also practised by supernatural beings as well as by mankind. Witches, however, in part acquired the powers of these—their souls being able to leave the body, and to approach those whom they intended to injure without being visible to any but the nalussaerutut or clairvoyants, to whom the witches themselves appeared as breathing fire, and with their hands and the lower parts of their arm blackened.

In practising witchcraft some magic words were spoken, but it remains uncertain if words were thought necessary in every case, or if words alone sufficed; and lastly, whether witches were able to work their wicked ends by merely touching. Generally, different materials were considered necessary for the performance of witchcraft, such as (1) parts of human bodies, or objects that had been in some way connected with dead bodies, as if some remnant of that power which had caused death [p.50] still attached to them. (2) Worms and insects, perhaps on account of their apparent annual coming out of the soil, the common grave of all that lives and breathes, or possibly on account of their mysterious nature and destination; spiders were used for creating sickness; and insects swallowed in drinking water could be made to eat the entrails, kill the man, and reappear from out his body enlarged in size. (3) Parts of the animals caught by the person to whom mischief was intended. In most cases this was done by cutting a small round piece out of the skin. This, when put down into graves, caused the total failure of the owner's hunt from that time. From this kind of witchcraft the name of kusuinek is derived, signifying, taking away from, or diminishing something. In all cases witchcraft was an art handed down by tradition, but taught as well as practised in perfect secrecy.

3. OF THE MANNER IN WHICH MAN BY SUPERNATURAL ASSISTANCE CAN AVERT EVIL AND OBTAIN BENEFIT.

Certain agents or means are given to mankind by which they are enabled to avert impending misfortune and obtain prosperity, in a manner deviating from the ordinary laws of nature. These means are gained by aid of a knowledge the highest stage of which is called angakoonek. But an angakok being not only able himself directly to procure specially desired advantages, but also acting as the leading authority in all matters of religion, the angakoonek will be separately treated of hereafter. The fair and righteous means to which mankind in general may have recourse are thus to be considered as having their source in tornarsuk, with the angakut as mediators. Their general aim may be said to be the counteracting and defeating of witchcraft, at the same time serving to appease and influence the inue of nature, partly for the purpose of averting the danger [p 51] arising from these powers, especially that of being frightened to death, partly in order to obtain what may be desired. Moreover, they may be divided into two classes: first, the general religious means to be used by people in general for certain purposes or in certain cases; secondly, some peculiar faculties, which are possessed only by certain individuals.

(1.) The General Religious Means.

The general religious means may again be divided into three separate classes, the first consisting of words to be spoken—viz., prayer and invocation; the second, in the possession and application of certain material objects called amulets; and the third, of certain actions, such as the following out certain rules as to the mode of life, sacrifices, and different other observances for appeasing the ruling powers and defeating witchcraft.

In the prayer or serranek, as far as we know, only the desired object is pronounced, without any direct mention being made of the fulfiller; whereas the invocation (ĸernaineĸ) is merely an appeal for aid to some special owner of power (ĸernarpâ, he invokes him). It is not known whether in any of these cases words of the pronouncer's own choice could be employed. The general custom, at all events, was to use distinct spells with peculiar tunes belonging to them. Such a prayer was called serrat (in the tales translated by spell, magic lay, or song), and might have reference to health, hunting, assistance against enemies or dangers—in short, whatever purpose might be desired within the limits of what was deemed right and proper. A serrat was supposed to have a power by itself, independent of the person who happened to know or make use of it. It was therefore considered an object of possession and barter; but it had also a deeper significance, in so far as a man in using it applied to a certain power, or had his thoughts fixed upon the fulfiller or the original giver of the spell, these persons [p.52] being generally identical—viz., the nearest deceased kindred of the user. The serrats were in some cases expressly directed to the invoker's ancestors, and are also known to have been the hereditary property of the same family. In the same way, invocations were generally addressed to the souls of the grandparents, and were principally employed as a preventive against being frightened to death. A serrat had to be originally acquired by a revelation to some individual who possessed a certain degree of angakok-wisdom, and in most cases they probably dated from very remote ages. The serranek was chiefly practised by old men, who, while performing it, partly uncovered the head.

The amulets, or arnuat (plural of arnuaĸ), were small articles which either permanently belonged to the individual, and in this case were always carried about his person or worn on the body or inserted in his weapons, or were sometimes only acquired for certain special occurrences. The efficacy of an amulet depends firstly on the nature of the original thing or matter from whence it has been derived. To serve this purpose, certain animals or things which had belonged to or been in contact with certain persons or supernatural beings were chiefly chosen; and sometimes, but more rarely, also objects which merely by their appearance recalled the effect expected from the amulet, such as figures of various objects. Undoubtedly the original inua of the objects was believed to be still acting by means of them. Those in most esteem were objects pretended to have belonged to the ingnersuit and the inuarutligkat. Very precious amulets were got from the avingak, which in Labrador signifies a kind of weasel, but in Greenland a fabulous animal, and the application of which in a tale from both countries exhibits a most striking similarity. It is also said to serve the western Eskimo for amulets. Probably the choice and appreciation of things most useful and appropriate for amulets was [p 53] akin to their faith in different medicines, both kinds of knowledge being principally professed by old women, and was perhaps, like witchcraft, a remnant of the older religion which was tolerated by the angakut. Although the articles thus used had a power of their own because of their origin, they still required the application of a serrat, which was pronounced by him who gave the amulet to its final proprietor. If it was only to be used in particular cases, a special serrat was also required in order to make it work; and in some cases, when the owner happened not to have the amulet at hand, he might have recourse to invocation. Among the amulets probably we should also include what was called pôĸ, or bag, signifying the skin of some animal, enabling a man to acquire its shape. Amulets were ordinarily acquired from the parents during early childhood.

It remains somewhat doubtful how to class the art of making artificial animals, which were sent out for the purpose of destroying enemies. In the tales we meet with bears and reindeers of this description; but most common is the belief in the tupilak, composed of various parts of different animals, and enabled to act in the shape of any of those animals which was wished. The tupilak differed from the amulet in being the work of its own user, and being secretly fashioned by himself. It therefore might seem to belong to witchcraft; but according to the opinion of the present Greenlanders, it is considered as having been a just and proper remedy, made by help of a serrat. It must always be remembered that its secret origin and traditional teaching, and not the immediate intention of it in every single case, constituted the evil of witchcraft. The serrat and arnuak might be used with a good intention, though at the same time pernicious to their immediate objects—viz., the enemies. On the other hand, they could certainly also be used with evil designs: and moreover, even angakoks were known to have practised witchcraft; [p.54] but all such cases were condemned by public opinion as evil abnormities and abuses.

The rules concerning their mode of life were principally concerned with fasting and abstinence, but also included certain regulations as to clothing, out-of-door life, and daily occupations in general. They partly referred to the ordinary routine of daily life, particularly that of the wife, the child, and the mourners after death; partly to special or accidental occurrences, such as sickness. The powers worshipped through these observances appear to have been, besides the inerterrissok, the inue of the air, the moon, and other domains, supposed to influence the weather and the chase, and also the souls of the deceased. The lying-in woman was not allowed to work, nor to eat any flesh excepting from the produce of her husband's chase, and of which the entrails had not been wounded; but fish was allowed. Two weeks subsequent to her delivery she might eat flesh, but the bones of it were not to be carried outside the house. In the first child-birth they were not allowed to partake of the head or the liver. They were permitted neither to eat nor drink in the open air. They had their separate water-tubs; and if any one else should happen to drink out of these, what remained was thrown outside. The husbands likewise were not permitted to work or do any barter for some weeks. They also used to pull off one boot and put it beneath the dish they were eating, in order to make the son grow up a good hunter. During the first few days of the child's life no fire must be lighted at their stall, and nothing be cooked over their lamp. Bartering was likewise not customary where there was a person sick. Immediately after birth, a name was given to the child; and it was always a matter of great importance to have it called by the name of some deceased relation, one of the grandparents being generally preferred. But, on the other hand, names belonging to persons recently dead must not be pronounced, [p.55] for which reason a second name was generally given for daily use, and even this, for the same reason, was apt to be afterwards changed. The navel-string of the child must not be cut with a knife, but with a mussel-shell, if not bitten off, and was often used as an amulet. A urine-tub was held above the head of a woman in labour, in order to ward off all manner of evil influences. When the child was a year old, the mother licked it all over its body, in order to make it healthy. If any one happened to die in a house, everything belonging to the deceased was brought outside to avoid infecting the living. All the housemates likewise had to bring out their belongings, and take them in at night after they had been well aired. The persons who had assisted in carrying the corpse to the grave, for a time were considered to be infected, and had to abstain from taking part in certain occupations. All the kindred and housemates of the deceased for some time had also to abstain from certain kinds of food and occupation. During the time of mourning, the women had to abstain from washing themselves, and were not allowed in any way to make themselves smart or even dress their hair; and when going out they wore a peculiar dress. The bodies of those who died in a house were carried out through the window, or if in a tent, underneath the back part. According to an account from Labrador, a small child must not eat the entrails nor blubber kept in stomach-bladders, nor the flesh on the inner side of the ribs, nor the upper part of the shoulder-blade. At the birth of a child, some of the heart, lung, liver, intestine, and stomach was provided; and the child having been licked all over, the mother ate a dish of the mixture as a means of procuring health and long life to the baby.

To the customs just enumerated may be added various regulations regarding the chase, especially that of the whale—this animal being easily scared away by various kinds of impurity or disorder. As to all kinds [p.56] of hunting, the belief was general that liberality in disposing of what had been taken secured future success. If a person who used to have ill-luck visited a successful hunter when an angakok was present, the latter used to cut a piece out of the liver of a seal caught by the lucky hunter and give it to the unlucky one, who chewed and swallowed it slowly.

Sacrifices (mingulerterrineĸ or aitsuineĸ) were not much used. Besides the fox-flesh to the kungusotarissat, gifts were offered to the inue of certain rocks, capes, and ice-firths, principally when travelling and passing those places. Certain marks of homage were, moreover, observed towards the inue of various localities, such as abstaining from laughing, from pointing at them, &c.

The expelling, capturing, and destroying of evil and dangerous spirits was ordinarily incumbent upon the angakut. The traditions, however, mention similar operations as practised also by other people; and even in our own day, there are cases of this among the Christian inhabitants, such as shooting at tupilaks and umiarissat. Several fetid and stinking matters, such as old urine, are excellent means for keeping away all kinds of evil-intentioned spirits and ghosts.

(2.) Men gifted with Special Endowments.

The persons now to be spoken of belong to the class. we have already referred to as imáinaĸ ingitsut, or not of common kind—not like other people. They may be regarded as much the same as canny folk of the Scottish peasant, wise men or clairvoyants.

Tarneerunek, the act of taking the soul out of the body, may be achieved either by external means, or by dreams or several states of the soul. When delivered in this way, especially by the power of the moon or by dreams, the soul is enabled to roam all over the universe, and return with news from thence.

Pivdlingayak means a fool or "natural;" and pivdlerortok, [p.57] a mad or delirious person. By degrees as madness increases, disturbing the operation of the senses, and clouding the judgment and insight into things present, the absent or concealed things, and the events of the future, unfold themselves to the inner sight of the soul. A pivdlerortok was even gifted with a faculty of walking upon the water, besides the highest perfection in divining, but was at the same time greatly feared; whereas the pivdlingayak, being also clairvoyant, was esteemed a useful companion to the inhabitants of a hamlet.

Piarkusiak was a child born after several others had died off at a tender age. It was considered specially proof against all kinds of death-bringing influences, especially witchcraft, and therefore employed in persecuting witches. A child like this was even more than ordinarily petted, and had all its wishes complied with.

Agdlerutig(h)issak—viz., having been the cause of agdlerneĸ, or of certain rules of abstinence observed by the mother—was a child fostered in a manner similar to the angherdlartugsiak, and also considered to have a peculiar faculty for resisting witchcraft.

Kiligtisiak was a man brought up by an angakok with the purpose of training him for a clairvoyant, which on the part of the angakok was performed by taking him on his knee during his conjurations.

Kilaumassok and nerfalassok were people who, having failed in becoming angakok, had nevertheless acquired a faculty for detecting hidden things and causes. In cases of sickness, the head of the invalid was made fast by a thong to the end of a stick, and on lifting it up (ĸilauneĸ), the nature of the sickness was discovered.

4. ANGAKOONEK OR PRIESTHOOD.

With regard to the name angákoĸ (plural, angákut), it cannot be traced back in the usual way to any positive root, but it appears to be closely akin to angivoĸ, he is great; angajoĸ, the older one; angajorĸat, the parents, [p.58] In a vocabulary of the language spoken by the inland Eskimo on the borders of the river Kuskokwim, or the tribe farthest from the Greenlanders, the "Shamans" are called tungalik and analchtuk, which words afford a striking instance of similarity, showing the unity of all the Eskimo tribes, the latter sounding somewhat akin to angakok, the first corresponding to the Greenlandish word tôrnaliĸ—viz., one who owns tornaks, a quality that constitutes the real definition of an angakok. Another tribe nearer to Behring Strait, denominated by the rather curious name of Tschnagmiut (probably a corruption of a word like the Greenlandish sinamiut, coast people), is also said to use the word tungalik for a "Shaman," and a third tribe in the same district to use the word angaigok for a "chief."

Women as well as men might become angakut; and this profession appears to have two, or even more, different stages. But the highest of these, described by the older authors as that of an angakok poolik, is not confirmed as being known by the present Greenlanders. The "studies" necessary before becoming an angakok were in most cases begun in infancy, an angakok educating the child as kiligtisiak. Afterwards, self-application was required, consisting in strict fasting and invoking tornarsuk while staying alone in solitary places. In this way the soul became partly independent of the body and of the external world; finally, tornarsuk appeared and provided the novice with a tornak—viz., a helping or guardian spirit, whom he might call to his aid by taking certain measures any time he chose. While this revelation was being made, the apprentice or pupil-angakok fell into a state of unconsciousness, and on regaining his senses, he was supposed to have returned to mankind. Some of the old people speak of angakussarfiks, or caves, containing a stone with an even surface and a smaller one, the angakok apprentice having to grind the first with the second until tornarsuk [p.59] announced himself in a voice arising from the depths of the earth. Others maintain that only the inferior angakut perfected themselves in these caves, while the higher grade was obtained by allowing vermin to suck the blood of the apprentice in a dried-up lake, until the unconsciousness just referred to came on.

On returning to men subsequent to this meeting with tornarsuk, before he became an acknowledged angakok, he had still to show his power by calling forth his tornak. During this interval, his state would sometimes be revealed by the fact of his feet sinking in the rocky ground just as in snow; and according to others, he was liable to die if he did not manifest himself within a certain time. The clairvoyants could detect the angakut from their breathing fire like the witches; they had not, however, black arms like these. If an incipient angakok failed ten times in succession to call forth his tornak, he had to give up his claims to become an angakok, but still remained a canny or peculiarly gifted individual.

An angakok had more than one tornak, and most of the inue of land and sea could be made such, and also the souls of kivigtut, of the dead, and of animals. As to the services rendered by these, some of them were only advising and informing spirits, others assistant ones in danger, and others, again, revenging and destructive powers. The first kind, called eĸungassoĸ, were indispensable on account of their skill, but were without strength, though they boasted of their bravery, and were therefore ridiculed. According to the early authors, an angakok was raised to a higher grade, becoming poolik, by being able to invoke or conjure a bear and a walrus. The bear at once seizing him, throws him into the sea; and the walrus, devouring them both, afterwards throws up his bones again on the beach, from which he comes to life again. The word poolik has already been mentioned.

The angakut were acknowledged or authorised teachers and judges on all questions concerning religious belief; [p.60] and this belief in many ways acting upon the customs and social life of the people, the angakut necessarily became a kind of civil magistrate: and lastly, they had not only to teach their fellow-men how to obtain supernatural help, but also to give such assistance directly themselves.

With regard to the mode of practising their art, it has to be remarked that they partly made use of the same medical appliances or remedies which are accessible to mankind in general, partly that they had recourse to a means peculiar to the angakut—viz., summoning their tornaks. The first kind of acts may more or less be ranked among those explained in the preceding section, only distinguished by being still more marvellous than those performed by ordinary people. Of course the art often degenerated into mere imposture, with a view to impress the credulous with awe. To the acts of this kind belonged the angmainek, or taking out the entrails of a sick person, and returning them to their place after having them cleaned, the repairing of a soul, or from a tub of water divining information as to persons lost or missing articles. The other kind of deeds were performed by means of what is termed tôrnineĸ, or conjuring, the angakok either merely summoning a tornak and asking counsel of him, or himself starting for an ilimarneĸ, or spirit-flight, for the purpose of examining or accomplishing what was required, or finally calling forth evil spirits, such as witches and anghiaks, in order to defeat and destroy them. The art of torninek ordinarily had to be performed before a company of auditors in a house, this being made completely dark, while the angakok was tied with the hands behind his back, and his head between the legs, and thus placed on the floor beside a drum and a suspended skin, the rattling of which was to accompany the playing of the drum. The auditors then began a song, which being finished, the angakok proceeded to invoke the tornak, accompanying [p.61] his voice by the skin and the drum. The arrival of the tornak was known by a peculiar sound and the appearance of a light or fire. If only information or counsel were required, the question was heard, as well as the answering voice from without, the latter generally being somewhat ambiguous, in some cases also said to proceed from tornarsuk himself. If, on the other hand, the angakok had to make a flight, he started through an opening which appeared of itself in the roof. Whether his flight was supposed to be a bodily one, or by his spirit alone, for the time severed from its mortal frame, is a question which, like many others connected with religious matters, has to be answered differently, according to the intelligence of the individuals applied to for information. Not until the torninek had been finished was the house allowed to be lighted as before, on which the angakok showed himself released from his bands. During the following days no work was allowed to go on in the house. Evil spirits could exceptionally be summoned at daylight and in the open air, in the same way as the angakok at any time could invoke his tornaks, in case he himself required their assistance.

Witchcraft, as well as certain other influences, such as the presence of a woman having an anghiak, could make the conjuration fail, and even become fatal to the conjuror as well as to his audience.

As regards their objects, the different branches of the craft consisted of the following:—

That of giving counsel in all cases connected with supernatural help.

That of discovering the cause of accidental disasters, including a certain judicial authority—viz., that of denouncing certain individuals as guilty either as regards witchcraft or any other violation of customs or rules.

Especially was their art exercised in discovering the whereabouts and the fate of persons who had disappeared, and in tracing out and defeating enemies in general, as [p.62] well as those who, like the anghiaks, could only be perceived and caught by the angakut.

Their other functions consisted in giving counsel and instructions as to the rules of abstinence and the mode of life, travels, hunting, and means of sustenance in general, as far as necessary on account of supernatural influence;

In procuring favourable weather (silagigsaineĸ);

In procuring success in hunting (angussorsaineĸ or pilersaineĸ), either by conciliating the arnarkuagsak or by invoking a tornak in the shape of an iceberg called kivingak.

An angakok called to a sick person of any renown, if he saw his state was hopeless, used to console him in a solemn manner, if possible in company with others, praising the happiness of the life to come in low-keyed song accompanied by drum-playing.

The angakut used a peculiar official language, chiefly made up of allegorical expressions and transformations of ordinary Greenlandish words.

The death of an angakok was believed to be generally attended by various strange phenomena. His soul, it appeared, had more than ordinary difficulty in disengaging itself from the body; and he might thus happen to lie in a half-dead state, reviving at intervals. Death having finally taken place, after five days had elapsed, he was apt to reappear in the shape of a ghost.

5. THEIR RELIGIOUS BELIEF AS INFLUENCING LIFE, HABITS, AND CUSTOMS.

The nation being so widely spread, its traditions, and especially the religious element in them, formed the only connecting-link between the scattered tribes; just as the supporters of that belief, the angakut, in their persons afforded the means of connection between smaller communities. From this cause religion, more than could reasonably be the case with nations in higher stages of culture, became the standard by which [p 63] social and private life was alike regulated; and this circumstance also very likely accounts for the marked disinclination of the people to any change in their habits. It must be observed that, the angakut being the only authority who were acknowledged to derive their power from the supernatural world, naturally make the religious belief a governing principle in their actions. Their influence, of course, at the same time, rested upon their greater intelligence and talent. The unshaken faith with which the population regarded their marvellous deeds cannot be explained except by supposing them to have had a more profound knowledge of the laws of nature, enabling them to form a more accurate conception than others of what was likely to happen as regards weather, hunting, sickness, and everything depending upon physical laws; while as to their own belief, their skill in divination most probably was confounded in their own fancy with imagined revelations from superior beings. No doubt they themselves relied upon the reality of their supernatural performances, notwithstanding the necessity which, on the other hand, often caused them to act with the sole aim of more or less consciously deceiving others as well as themselves.

The rules and customs concerning property, position, and what represented the administration of justice, evidently bore a close relation to their religious belief. The customs according to which an individual became member of a family, partaking of its reputation as well as its means of subsistence, were supported and confirmed by the belief that the souls of ancestors remained guardian spirits to their descendants, having left them their amulets and serrats as a kind of pledges. The same ideas must be regarded as having formed the principal foundation for the avenging of blood.

The social institutions in connection with the local conditions leaving still ample room for arbitrary acts of violence, the fear of vengeance by ghosts, kivigtoks, [p.64] anghiaks, serrats, amulets, and tupilaks, must have powerfully contributed to prevent weak and helpless persons being wronged.

By the custom of naming a child after a deceased person, it was intended to secure rest in his grave for the latter. The child, when grown up, was bound to brave the influences which had caused his death. If, for instance, the deceased had perished at sea, his successor had only so much greater an inducement for striving to grow a skilful kayaker.

The education of children was apparently managed without any corporal punishment; but threatening them with the vengeance of malevolent spirits, principally the kungusotarissat, was one of the means employed to keep unruly urchins in check.

The various rules for abstinence in many instances certainly had a direct relation to health.

As to the funeral rites, the treatment of the body being considered in some way to influence the state of the soul after death, it was generally placed on the floor, for the purpose of guiding the soul on its road to the under world; but in the case of malefactors, the body was dismembered, and the separate limbs were thrown apart. Otherwise the funeral rites differed extremely, the Asiatic Eskimo, it is said, burning their dead, the East Greenlanders throwing them into the sea; whereas the rest and greater part of the nation buried them beneath a heap of stones, or in a kind of stone cell.

V—TRADITIONAL TALES, SCIENCE, AND ARTS

In the Introduction to the Tales and Traditions which precedes them we shall endeavour to explain the probable origin and the significance of the tales, as representing the science, poetry, and religious doctrines of the nation. While these three elements are generally [p.65] more or less associated, there are many tales in which one of them may be said to predominate, so that these might with propriety be called either religious, historical, or merely amusing tales. Anything traditional, apart from the tales, which could in any sense be called science, is only to be found in the angakok-wisdom, in addition to some trifling knowledge of medicine, of astronomy, and of dividing the year into seasons in conformity with the wanderings of animals, the position of the sun, moon, and stars, and other scanty observations derived from experience. Art, on the contrary, we may properly consider to be separately represented by songs, already mentioned as an entertainment at the festive meetings. In being recited or intoned, it will be remembered that they combined mimicry and music with poetry. To be properly appreciated, even the tales must be heard in Greenland, related by a native raconteur in his own language; but the songs are still more unfit for rendering by writing or translation, the words themselves being rather trifling, the sentences abrupt, and the author evidently presuming the audience to be familiar with the whole subject or gist of the song, and able to guess the greater part of it. Every strophe makes such an abrupt sentence, or consists of single and even abbreviated words, followed by some interjectional words only used for songs and without any particular signification. The gesticulations and declamation, accompanied by the drum, are said to have been very expressive, while the melody itself was rather monotonous and dull. The old mode of singing is now nearly extinct in the Danish districts of Greenland. The author, however, succeeded in collecting several songs which were still remembered, of which the following may serve as samples. The first is given for this purpose in the original language, with the interjectional burden complete as it is said by the natives to have been sung.

[p.66]

A NITH-SONG OF KUKOOK,

who was a bad hunter, but anxious to acquire the friendship of the Europeans; sung about sixty years ago at a large meeting in the southernmost part of Greenland.

Translation.

The wicked little Kukook imakayah hayah, imakayah hah—hayah uses to say,... I am going to leave the country ... in a large ship ... for that sweet little woman. ... I'll try to get some beads .... of those that look like boiled ones. ... Then when I've gone abroad, ... I shall return again. ... My nasty little relatives .... I'll call them all to me .... and give them a good thrashing .... with a big rope's end. ... Then I'll go to marry, ... taking two at once. ... That darling little creature ... shall only wear clothes of the spotted seal-skins, .... and the other little pet ... shall have clothes of the young hooded seals. .....

MUTUAL NITH-SONG BETWEEN SAVDLADT AND PULANGITSISSOK.

(From East Greenland.)

Savdlat. The south, the south, oh the south yonder.... When settling on the midland coast I met Pulangitsissok, .... who had grown stout and fat with eating halibut. .... Those people from the midland coast they don't know speaking, .... because they are ashamed of their speech. .... Stupid [p.68] they are besides. . . . Their speech is not alike, . . . some speak like the northern, some like the southern; . . . therefore we can't make out their talk.

Pulangitsissok. There was a time when Savdlat wished that I should be a good kayaker, .... that I could take a good load on my kayak. ... Many years ago some day he wanted me to put a heavy load on my kayak. .... (This happened at the time) when Savdlat had his kayak tied to mine (for fear of being capsized). ..... Then he could carry plenty upon his kayak. . . . When I had to tow thee, and thou didst cry most pitiful, . . . and thou didst grow afeared, .... and nearly wast upset, ..... and hadst to keep thy hold by help of my kayak strings.

A SONG FRON SANERUT.

(South Greenland.)

I behold yon land of Nunarsuit; ... the mountaintops on its south side are wrapped in clouds; .... it slopes towards the south, . . towards Usuarsuk... What couldst thou expect in such a miserable place? ... All its surroundings being shrouded with ice, ... not before late in the spring can people from there go travelling.

A SONG FROM ARSUT.

(South Greenland.)

The great Koonak mount yonder south, ... I do behold it; ... the great Koonak mount yonder south, ... I regard it; .. the shining brightness (clouds?) yonder south, ... I contemplate... Outside of [p.69] Koonak ... it is expanding, ... the same that Koonak towards the seaside .... doth quite encompass. ... Behold how in the south ... they (clouds?) shift and change. ... Behold how yonder south ... they tend to beautify each other, ... while from the seaside it (the mountain-top) is enveloped ... in sheets still changing, ... from the seaside enveloped, ... to mutual embellishment.

ANOTHER SONG FROM ARSUT.

Towards the south I ever turn my gaze, ... for at the point of Isua land, ... for near the strand of Isua, ... yonder from the south he will appear; .. that way he certainly will come. ... Korsarak is sure to clear the point, .. no doubt Korsarak will be equal to it (in his kayak)..... But if still he did not happen to come, ... not until the season of the halibuts, ... not before the halibut-fishing begins, ..... not until the men are hauling up the halibuts.

These latter songs, of course, like the first, have different interjectional burdens added to the strophes, here only separated by dotted lines.

Lastly, it must be noticed that though the present Greenlanders appear to have a pretty fair talent for drawing and writing, scarcely any traces of the arts of drawing and sculpture belonging to earlier times remain, with the exception of a few small images cut out in wood or bone, which have probably served children as playthings. The western Eskimo, on the other hand, displayed great skill in carving bone ornaments principally on their weapons and tools.

[p.70]

VI—PROBABLE ORIGIN AND HISTORY

If we suppose the physical conditions and the climate of the Eskimo regions not to have altered in any remarkable way since they were first inhabited, their inhabitants of course must originally have come from more southern latitudes, and, after their arrival in those regions, have made the inventions and adopted the mode of life which constitute their character as Eskimo. When we consider how uniformly this character now manifests itself, notwithstanding the great separation of the tribes for upwards of a thousand years or more, it seems probable, firstly, that the nation during such a period of development must have lived in closer connection, allowing of concurrence in making the necessary inventions, as well as in bringing about a general adoption of the same mode of life; and secondly, that the development of their culture during that period must have been active and rapid in comparison with the time of separation which followed, during which the tribes have been leading a very stationary existence, almost without any perceptible change. Passing on to the next question—where this development or this change of a migrating tribe from the south into a polar coast people has taken place—it appears evident on many grounds that such a southern tribe has not been a coast people migrating along the sea-shore, and turning into Eskimo on passing beyond a certain latitude, but that they have more probably emerged from some interior country, following the river-banks towards the shores of the polar sea, having reached which they became a coast people, and, moreover, a polar coast people. The Eskimo most evidently representing the polar coast people of North America, the first question which arises seems to be whether their development can be conjectured [p.71] with any probability to have taken place in that part of the world. Other geographical conditions appear greatly to favour such a supposition. It has been stated (principally by Lewis Morgan) that the primitive hunting nations of North America have obtained their principal means of subsistence from the rivers, especially by the salmon-fishery. The north-west angle of America, from California to the Coppermine river, contains several large rivers very rich in fish. The general tendency of all the primitive nations to expand by driving out one another must have almost necessarily compelled those of them who occupied the extreme confines to go onward till they reached the sea-shore. If this happened to be that of the polar seas, the new settlers would at once in its animals find a rich source of sustenance, at the same time as the country which they had passed through and left behind had gradually grown more barren and destitute of the means of supporting human life. This almost sudden change in their whole mode of life is also very likely to have given rise to the general sharp separation of this coast people from the inland tribes, and the position of hostility in which they stood to each other. The North-West Indians might be considered as forming an intermediate link between them. These derive about one-half of their supplies from the sea by whale-fishery. The rivers taking their course to the sea between Alaska and the Coppermine river, seem well adapted to lead such a migrating people onwards to the polar sea. While still resident on the river-banks in the interior, they may be supposed to have had the same language, and to have been able to communicate overland from one river to the other. This intercourse we may assume to have been still maintained while those of the bands most in advance had already settled down on the sea-shore and begun catching seals and whales, covering their boats with skins instead of birch-bark, and making the principal [p.72] inventions with regard to seal-hunting peculiar to the Eskimo; and while the whole nation in this way gradually settled down on the sea-shore, it also maintained the unity necessary for the purpose of defending itself against the hostile inland people. If, in accordance with what will be explained in the following introduction, we likewise suppose the principal part of the folk-lore to have originated about this period, the subjects mentioned in the tales would constitute a means for guiding us in search of the locality where the first settling on the sea-shore is likely to have taken place. For this purpose it will be sufficient to call to mind the tales treating of the following subjects:—

1. An expedition to the inlanders for the purpose of procuring metal knives.

2. A man descended both from the coast people and the inlanders, and his deeds among both.

3. The brothers visiting their sister, who had been married into a tribe of cannibals.

4. An onslaught on the coast people, from which only a couple of children were saved, who went off roaming far and wide, and performed great deeds.

5. A woman living alternately among the coast people and the inlanders, persuading them to wage war against each other.

6. Women who from different causes went and settled down among the inlanders.

7. A man taming wild animals for the purpose of crossing the frozen sea.

8. Different travels to Akilinek.

On comparing these subjects of the tales with the present geographical conditions, we will find that in all respects they suggest America and not Asia. The probable identity of the "inlanders" with the Indians has already been remarked on. When the new coast people began to spread along the Arctic shores, some bands of them may very probably have crossed Behring Strait [p.73] and settled on the opposite shore, which is perhaps identical with the fabulous country of Akilinek. On the other hand, there is very little probability that a people can have moved from interior Asia to settle on its polar sea-shore, at the same time turning Eskimo, and afterwards almost wholly emigrated to America.

On comparing the Eskimo with the neighbouring nations, their physical complexion certainly seems to point at an Asiatic origin; but, as far as we know, the latest investigations have also shown a transitional link to exist between the Eskimo and the other American nations, which would sufficiently indicate the possibility of a common origin from the same continent. As to their mode of life, the Eskimo decidedly resemble their American neighbours; whereas all the northernmost nations of the Old World, with the exception of the Kamtskadales, are pastoral tribes, regarding fishing on their rivers as only a secondary occupation; and when some of them have settled on the river-sides, or even on the sea-shore, given up their reindeer, and made fishing and hunting their main means of subsistence, these have still been families originally belonging to the pastoral tribes, who have changed their mode of life chiefly on account of poverty. In the Old World we nowhere find anything at all like a coast race as opposed to an inland people, with the exception of the Asiatic Eskimo or the Coast-Tschoukschees, who are quite different from, but still live in friendly relations with, the pastoral Tschoukschees. As to religion, the Eskimo are also allied to the Americans, and differ from the Asiatic nations, who have a more perfect system of deities, worship idols, and with whom sacrifices form the principal part of their religious rites. With regard to their language, the Eskimo also appear akin to the American nations in regard to its decidedly polysynthetic structure. Here, however, on the other hand, we meet with some very remarkable similarities between the Eskimo idiom and [p.74] the language of Siberia, belonging to the Altaic or Finnish group: first, as to the rule of joining the affixes to the end and not the beginning of the primitive word; and second, the very characteristic mode of forming the dual by k and the plural by t.

At all events, it must be granted that the origin of the Eskimo people remains very obscure; and that, possibly, early intercourse and subsequent mutual influence may once have existed between the northernmost nations of the two continents, which future researches may yet reveal.

As regards their numbers, the Eskimo must also be supposed to have increased considerably in early periods beyond what has been the case in later times; and the feuds between the single families, or larger bands, must probably have accelerated their being dispersed to the far east of Greenland and Labrador. According to the sagas of the Icelanders, they were already met with on the east coast of Greenland about the year 1000, and almost at the same time on the east coast of the American continent, on the so-called Vinland, probably Massachusetts or Rhode Island. Thorvald, the son of Erik the Red, was killed in a fight which ensued at this meeting; but later travellers in Vinland engaged in barter with the same natives, and brought two young Eskimo back with them, who were subsequently baptised, and stated that their mother's name was Vatheldi, and that of their father Uvœge (probably the Greenlandish uvia, signifying her husband). Between the years 1000 and 1300, they do not seem to have occupied the land south of 65° N.L., on the west coast of Greenland, where the Scandinavian colonies were then situated. But the colonists seem to have been aware of their existence in higher latitudes, and to have lived in fear of an attack by them, since, in the year 1266, an expedition was sent out for the purpose of exploring the abodes of the Skrælings, as they were called by the [p.75] colonists. In 1379, the northernmost settlement was attacked by them, eighteen men being killed and two boys carried off as prisoners. About the year 1450, the last accounts were received from the colonies, and the way to Greenland was entirely forgotten in the mother country. It must be supposed that the colonists, on being thus cut off from the world abroad, retired into the interior of the fiords and creeks; while the Eskimo gradually settled on the islands,—and that the latter defeated and partly destroyed the remains of the former. The features of the natives in the southern part of Greenland indicate a mixed descent from Scandinavians and Eskimo, the former, however, not having left the slightest sign of any influence on the nationality or culture of the present natives. In the year 1585, Greenland was discovered anew by John Davis, and found inhabited exclusively by Eskimo. After a series of exploring and fishing expeditions, during which many acts of violence and cruelty were perpetrated on the natives, the present colonies were founded by Egede in the year 1721; and since then the whole west coast, upwards to 74° N.L., has been brought into complete and regular connection with Denmark. I have spoken of the habits of the Greenlanders chiefly in the past tense, simply for the reason that though their hunting habits, ways of life, and methods of thought are still much as they always were, the influence of the Danish officials, who conduct the trading monopoly, and of the missionaries, has been such that they have within the bounds of the Danish possessions abandoned many of their ancient customs along with their paganism, which change we shall endeavour to explain in the following section.

[p.76]

VII—INFLUENCE OF CONTACT WITH EUROPEANS

The natives of the Danish districts, whose numbers during last century seem to have been greatly on the decrease, were afterwards, for a long period, again increasing; while, since 1855, they have remained almost stationary between 9400 and 9700 souls. They have long been Christianised, and brought into a regular state of subjection to the Danish Government, by means of the monopolised trade, the missionaries and schools, as well as several other administrative institutions. The introduction of intoxicating liquors, as well as those acts of violence and oppression which in other countries have destroyed the primitive races, especially those who live by hunting, have been here unknown. Scarcely any other country will be found where the Europeans have shown so much consideration for, and been so careful of, the uncivilised natives as in this case. From the very beginning of the monopolised trade, it has been carried on with a view to introduce and make accessible to them such articles as were judged to be most necessary and useful to them; and not without much hesitation have such articles of luxury as bread, coffee, and sugar, besides tobacco, been sold to them. By help of native schoolmasters, instruction is given to the children in all the wintering place, except a few where the number of inhabitants is too small. Attempts have been made to provide the natives with necessary medicines, along with some medical aid, although the latter remains, of course, very insufficient and illusory, on account of the extreme distances; and finally, the Government has endeavoured to establish regular institutions for the relief of the poor, and likewise taken measures for the administration of justice and laws, as far as circumstances would admit. Still, the general destructive influence of nations at a far more advanced stage of culture upon those on a [p.77] lower stage may here be traced—poverty, combined with predisposition to certain diseases, having sensibly increased. Greenland must be considered peculiarly adapted for making closer inquiries as to the nature of this influence.

From the earliest times of the colonisation, Europeans of the working classes have intermarried with native women, and formed their household after the Greenland model, with merely a few European improvements. These marriages have generally been rich in offspring; and have probably become a concurring means of temporarily increasing the population, the children, for the most part, growing up as complete Greenlanders. This mixed offspring being now very numerous, and its individuals representing the mixture of European and native blood in almost every possible proportion, any marked distinction between the Europeans and the natives might be supposed to have gradually disappeared. But the real difference of nationality depending on education, not on physical constitution, there are still sufficiently sharp distinctions to indicate what we mean by Europeans and natives. The average number of Europeans in the country, excepting at the time of existence of some temporary establishments peculiarly European, has varied between 200 and 300.

When the natives saw the first Europeans approaching their country from the sea in great ships, furnished with things all wonderful to them, they can hardly have failed to combine the idea of something supernatural with them. The Europeans, on their part, on settling down in the country, in order to make their existence more secure, were involuntarily led to abolish all native authority, especially that of the angakut, and to suppress all kinds of national meetings. Religious zeal—here of course, as everywhere else, combined with worldly and social aims—and national prejudice tended to make them despise and indiscriminately denounce all the native [p.78] customs and institutions as heathenish; and in time, European authority more and more became the principal law among them. From this abolition of native laws and authority, and a kind of self-abasement and disheartening consequently arising among them, the real or principal source of the national evils must be considered to proceed.

Two national treasures yet remain to the natives, by means of which they still maintain a kind of independence and national feeling—viz., their language and their folk-lore. Through the tales, they also still preserve a knowledge of their ancient religious opinions, combined somewhat systematically with the Christian faith. Tornarsuk, in being converted into the devil by the first missionaries, was only degraded, getting in the meantime, on the other hand, his real existence confirmed for ever. In consequence of this acknowledgment in part of tornarsuk, the whole company of inue or spirits were also considered as still existing. The ingnersuit were expressly charged by Egede as being the devil's servants. The Christian heaven coming into collision with the upper world of their ancestors, the natives very ingeniously placed it above the latter, or, more strictly, beyond the blue sky. By making tornarsuk the principle of evil, a total revolution was caused with regard to the general notions of good and evil, the result of which was to identify the idea of good with what was conformable to European authority; but, unhappily, the rules and laws given by the Europeans often varied with the individuals who successively arrived from Europe quite ignorant of the natives. In the same way as the ancient belief in the world of spirits has been kept up, the Greenlanders also maintain their old faith respecting the aid to be got from it, and have habitually recourse to it. The kayakers, in their troublesome and hazardous occupation, still believe themselves taken care of by invisible ingnersuit. Although the natives [p.79] are aware that the aid required from the spirit-world of the angakut is opposed to Christianity, they still discern as clearly as formerly between that and witchcraft. Only in rare instances have some of the natives attempted to form a Christian community independent of the Europeans, and founded on alleged immediate revelations from heaven; but these efforts have been soon suppressed. No attempts have ever been made to re-establish the ancient authority of the angakut.

Excepting the introduction of firearms, no essential change has taken place in the hunting operations of the natives. The principal means of subsistence are still procured in the same way as they were a thousand years ago. It will also be evident that a consumption of from thirty to forty pounds of bread annually per individual, besides coffee, sugar, and tobacco, cannot have essentially contributed to change the habitual food of the population. As to the rules regarding property, and the distribution of the daily gains from hunting and fishing, some changes must of course have arisen from the settling of Europeans among the natives; besides, a great portion of the produce of the chase is now turned into articles of trade. But still, the ancient principle of mutual assistance and semi-communism, out of the feeling of clanship it may be, still predominates among the Eskimo. When, however, the lazy and the active, the skilled and the unskilled, fared the same, owing to this division of the produce of the hunt, personal energy and activity necessarily abated. As to the body of persons constituting the family, the Europeans from the first made a practice of interfering with the discipline exercised by the head member, and even with the choice of husband or wife; while, at the same time, the children were not, as before, invariably brought up to the national occupation of hunters and fishers, and accordingly a temptation to waste the proceeds of the good man's labour increased. As to the communities [p.80] comprising the inhabitants of the same house or the same hamlet, their mutual relations have also necessarily been essentially altered, partly in having members added to their band who did not contribute to the common household, and also by their being enabled to barter away their seal-oil, and even the flesh, for European articles, principally such as would serve to improve their meals. On the other hand, in cases of any particular want, public opinion still requires the neighbouring seal-hunter to proffer his aid, if he had anything left beyond his own needs for the day. In fact, the Europeans, and perhaps those who are in their service, are now considered the only persons really entitled to possess property to any extent, the native sooner or later finding too much trouble in keeping what he may have saved up. Probably, by way of lessening the demands made on a provider by his house-fellows, a growing tendency has been observed in Greenland to make the houses smaller; but still it is extraordinary how many persons are entirely supported by a single man. All this taken into consideration, the security for person and property, which ought to have been one of the first advantages of the social order introduced by the Europeans, though prospering on the whole, on closer investigation still shows itself in some respects illusory as far as concerns the natives.

Although the general economical conditions of the Greenlanders now present a somewhat disheartening picture, there remain various circumstances which leave some ground for hope that they may regain their former prosperity, and that contact with a people in a higher stage of civilisation will prove no absolute hindrance to their existence and welfare. Firstly, in many places we meet with pure natives who have been able to combine the industry of their ancestors with the advantage to be derived from the use of European articles which are now for sale, and by means of these have established a household [p.81] undoubtedly preferable to that which formed the highest stage of comfortable life among the ancient Greenlanders. Next, it must be noticed that in many families the children even of European fathers, who are more exposed than other natives to the influence of European habits, and also to the use of European articles, have often become the most able kayakers and industrious seal-hunters. Next, it must be remarked that the natives show a great aptitude for learning, and are anxious to profit by the instruction imparted at schools, regular school attendance being perhaps in no country more popular than in Greenland; and lastly, it has been proved by experience that the natives themselves are acquiring a notion of the benefit arising from suitable laws and social institutions, which are necessary for the bringing about a more regulated way of making those habits which are inseparable from their trade and mode of life conformable to their relation with the Europeans.

[p.83]

INTRODUCTION TO THE TALES AND TRADITIONS

THE tales and traditions, the relation of which forms one of the principal amusements and entertainments of the Greenlanders, appear to be instructive, and not without signification in regard to the study of the origin and development of traditions in general.

Firstly, it must be observed that the natives themselves divide their tales into two classes—the ancient tales, called oĸalugtuat (plural of oĸalugtuaĸ), and the more recent ones, called oĸalualârutit (plural of oĸalualârut). The first kind may be more or less considered the property of the whole nation, at least of the greater part of its tribes; while the tales included under the second are, on the other hand, limited to certain parts of the country, or even to certain people related to each other, thus presenting the character of family records. The Eskimo are, more than any other nation, spread over a wide extent of country, only occupied by themselves, and thus are little acted upon by alien settlers. The inhabitants of their extreme western bounds, with their native means of transport, would have to traverse somewhere about five thousand miles before reaching the dwellings of their countrymen in the farthest east, [p.84] and in this journey would meet only with scanty little bands of their own tribes settled here and there, generally consisting of less than a hundred souls. Their little hamlets are severed from each other by desolate tracts of ten to twenty—nay, even hundreds of miles. Though there is every probability that the various tribes of these vast regions have originated from one common home, their present intercourse is very limited; and it may without exaggeration be asserted that the inhabitants of Greenland and Labrador, and those of the shores of Behring Strait, cannot in any likelihood have communicated with each other for a thousand years or more, nor have they any idea of their mutual existence.² In accordance with this isolation, a closer study of the traditions will also show how wide a space of time must be supposed to exist between the origin of the two classes of tales. The greater part of the ancient tales probably date from a far remoter period than one thousand years; the invention of the more recent traditions, on the other hand, must be supposed in most cases not even to go back so far as two hundred years, and they chiefly comprise events concerning families living in the very district where they are told. It may, however, be taken for granted, that in days of yore such new tales may have appeared at any time; but after a short existence they were gradually forgotten, giving place to others, and so on, continuously alternating during the lapse of ages: while the ancient tales have been preserved unchanged, like some precious heirlooms which it would have been sacrilege to have touched. The definition we have here tried to give of the two classes is, however, by no means exhaustive, nor without exceptions. In our collection will be found stories which undoubtedly must have originated between the two [p.85] periods described, and therefore should form an intermediate or exceptional class, if the division were to be complete and fully carried out. There are, moreover, many others which we are at a loss how to classify.

The art of story-telling is in Greenland practised by certain persons specially gifted in this respect; and among a hundred people there may generally be found one or two particularly favoured with the art of the raconteur, besides several less tolerable narrators. The art requires the ancient tales to be related as nearly as possible in the words of the original version, with only a few arbitrary reiterations, and otherwise only varied according to the individual talents of the narrator, as to the mode of recitation, gesture, &c. The only real discretionary power allowed by the audience to the narrator is the insertion of a few peculiar passages from some other traditions; but even in that case no alteration of these original or elementary materials used in the composition of tales is admissible. Generally, even the smallest deviation from the original version will be taken notice of and corrected, if any intelligent person happens to be present. This circumstance accounts for their existence in an unaltered shape through ages; for had there been the slightest tendency to variation on the part of the narrator, or relish for it on that of the audience, every similarity of these tales, told in such widely-separated countries, would certainly have been lost in the course of centuries. It would also appear that it is the same narrators who compose the more recent stories by picking up the occurrences and adventures of their latest ancestors, handed down occasionally by some old members of the family, and connecting and embellishing them by a large addition of the supernatural, for which purpose resort is always had to the same traditional and mystical elements of the ancient folk-lore. Undoubtedly the ancient tales have originally been invented in a similar way, but at a time when the [p.86] different tribes were living in closer connection with each other and perhaps endowed with greater originality. It is to be supposed that the real or principal traditions, with the power of continuance through many centuries, are only produced after long intervals, and at certain periods peculiarly qualified for their production. As regards the Greenlanders, probably a new era of this kind may have arisen from the time of their being Christianised, many of the recent tales exhibiting considerable similarity to Christian legends. The elementary parts used in composing all kinds of tales being very numerous, it may be seen from the collection itself that, notwithstanding the stability and limited number of the ancient tales, the narrators, by help of the interpolations mentioned, and by their power of manufacturing modern tales, possess means for an almost unlimited variety at their story-telling entertainments.

The traditional tales, or rather the traditional elements of the ancient as well as the more recent tales, would never have been able to withstand the influence of centuries among these scattered and isolated bands if they had not been one of the most important means of maintaining their national life. Generally, all sorts of mythical traditions are looked upon chiefly as materials to aid in the search for historical facts. But with regard to a stage of culture like that of the Greenland Eskimo before their conversion to Christianity,³ the traditions in reality may be said to comprise the whole national store of intellectual or moral property—viz., religion, science, and poetry at once, these manifestations of culture being but very imperfectly represented separately in a more specialised form.

In the first place, the traditions are to be considered as including a system of religion and morals as well as of laws and rules for social life. Such knowledge as [p.87] they convey is unconsciously imbibed by the native from his earliest childhood through listening to the story-tellers, exactly as a child learns to speak. And when the Greenlander nowadays is in doubt about any question regarding the superstitions or customs of his ancestors, he will try to find an answer by looking for some sample out of his tales, ancient or modern, the latter also containing elementary parts of ancient origin kept up in this manner by succeeding generations. The information used for our introductory remarks has also been chiefly derived from this source.

Ethnologists and travellers will find themselves mistaken if they expect to discover traditions that might supply direct information regarding the origin and history of the Eskimo. The more recent tales only may be said to include such real historical material, and that merely relating to family matters and events going back as far as four or six generations. The author has often made inquiries among the natives about events that have taken place two or three hundred years ago, and more especially about such occurrences as might be supposed to have impressed themselves deepest upon the memory of the population,—as, for instance, the first arrival of European ships, or even the terrible smallpox epidemic of comparatively recent date—viz., 1733-34. But these attempts have been almost entirely without result; and, as already said, the tales dating from an intermediate period are either very scanty, or at least must be supposed devoid of any historical interest. It may be considered certain that the present tribes of the nation have not the remotest idea of their common original home, nor of the migrations and rovings by which their ancestors have peopled the territories now occupied by them. Still, it may be supposed that at least a part of their oldest tales have originated in true historical events—are, in a word, "myths of observation;" but in order to extract any reliable historical information [p.88] from this source, the following precautions have to be observed:—

Firstly, it not unfrequently seems that a series of occurrences happening within a limited period of time, and bearing some resemblance to each other, have in various cases been reduced to a single record which, so to speak, represents them all in one. This is confirmed by one of the few stories which undoubtedly dates from a period intermediate between ancient and modern times. When the Eskimo invaded the southern part of Greenland, they soon commenced hostilities with the ancient Scandinavian settlers, who were at length defeated, or totally disappeared. Among the generations immediately succeeding these events, there must doubtless have existed several traditions about the numerous feuds which must be supposed to have occurred between the parties; but by-and-by they were forgotten, with the exception of one or two which had perhaps been preferred to the rest, and listened to with most satisfaction. Of these, two tales still remain. The most remarkable one is now claimed as belonging to both the districts in which the ruins of the old colonies are found, each of which claims to be the homestead of the heroes mentioned in the tale. Among the older and most widely-spread tales, we need only refer to one treating of a man who wished to cross the frozen ocean, and for this purpose caught different wild beasts, which he trained to pull his sledge. It is not improbable that this story represents a whole series of similar tales, originating from the period when the Eskimo got their first dogs by domesticating some species of wild animal, such as the wolf.

Next, it must be remembered that no tale could maintain its existence unless it was entertaining to the audiences to whom it was related from time to time, and especially unless it was easy to comprehend without any elaborate explanation. For this purpose [p.89] the tales had to be localised, or adapted to the different countries in which the tribes in course of time came to settle down, carrying their original traditions with them—as, for instance, when told in Greenland, their heroes were described as inhabitants not only of Greenland, but even of various districts of the country, according to the location of the narrator and his listeners. And, moreover, when foreign nations and animals unknown in Greenland happened to be mentioned in the ancient tales, they were generally, as time went on, transformed into supernatural beings, with which the imagination of the Greenlanders forthwith peopled the vast interior of their land, as well as the adjacent sea.

Besides religion and history, these traditional tales also represent the poetry of the inhabitants of the frozen North; and this element has mainly inspired their listeners with that love for them which still continues. They present a true picture of what is likely to have formed the principal objects of the people's imagination, of what is considered great and delightful on one side, and hateful and dreadful on the other, in human life as well as in nature. They continually picture to us the great struggle for existence, which has caused personal courage and strength to be acknowledged and admired as the first condition of happiness; and per contra, the idea of improving and securing the comforts of life by the aid of property is only very scantily developed in them. Not even to the almost universal sentiment of love do we find the poetry of Greenland affording much room. No wonder that such a scarcity of objects, and such simplicity of passions and feelings in these details of human life, render them uniform and rather fatiguing to us; but, on the other hand, we cannot but admit that their inventors have exhibited a peculiar skill in producing effect and variety with the help of such very scanty materials. Closer examination will scarcely fail [p.90] to discover real poetical feeling in their way of causing the highest perfection to be developed from the very smallest beginnings, as well as in their art of holding forth the dangers on one side and the means of overcoming them on the other, just as it might suit the narrator's object of arresting the attention of their audience. The poetical elements are also closely connected with the religious contents, and many religious opinions may further be regarded as emblematical or poetical. Such, for example, are expressions for certain ideas—such as, for instance, certain human qualities, the voice of conscience, an invisible ruling justice, and several powers of nature in their relation to mankind. A tendency to figurative expression is also shown in their habit of representing mankind in different stages of sexes and ages as personifications of certain common human qualities. For instance, the old bachelors always represent some ridiculous oddity; the wife is in general represented as with no care but of providing for her household, or how best she can economise; the poor widow is represented as especially excelling in benevolence and mercy; a band of five brothers, generally called "a lot of" brothers or men, represent haughtiness and brutality, and "the middlemost" of them, moreover, mean envy.

The materials upon which the author has founded this collection have been written down partly by natives, partly by Europeans, from the verbal recital of the natives, and in the latter case to a large extent by the author himself. The manuscripts collected in this manner amounted to upwards of five hundred sheets or two thousand pages, and could be referred to about fifty native narrators or story-tellers. Several difficulties were met with in collecting these materials. The mode most generally adopted by travellers when making inquiries among a so-called barbarous or foreign people about their traditions is that of selecting certain facts as subjects [p 91] for questioning them upon, such as how their country was originally peopled, if their first ancestors came from the West or from the East, if they happened to know anything about a great deluge, &c. By this mode of inquiry the natives most likely, finding that they have no real information to offer, in order to satisfy the questioner and get rid of the trouble he causes them, will be influenced in their answers chiefly by what they think the questioner would best like to hear. The only way to acquire the information wanted is simply to make the natives relate what forms the principal subject of the stories told at their own assemblies. To make them understand that this was all we desired caused, however, the first difficulty. The next arose from their fear of being accused of heathenish superstition by revealing those superstitious tales to strangers. In consequence of these hindrances, several Europeans whom the author had specially requested to make investigations among the natives with whom they lived, came to the erroneous conclusion that no traditions at all, or only the most trifling ones, existed in the country. Lastly, it may easily be imagined that part of the manuscripts forwarded to him were in an incomplete and exceedingly illegible condition—some of them, indeed, conveying no meaning whatever.

The principal tales have for the most part been collated from more than one version, and all the variations have been most carefully examined and compared for the purpose of composing a text such as might agree best with the supposed original and most popular mode of telling the same story. In the first and principal part of the collection, the tales are in general to be considered as a nearly literal rendering of the verbal narratives, with only the omission of the more arbitrary reiterations and interpolations already referred to.

The natives who have contributed to this collection [p.92] were inhabitants of the following parts of Eskimo-land:—

South Greenland; or the west coast of Greenland up to 67° N.L.
North Greenland, or the same coast from 67° up to 74° N.L.
East Greenland, and Labrador.

Of these regions South Greenland, in which the author chiefly resided, has supplied the lion's share; while, on the contrary, the east coast has furnished us with only a few tales, which are not even written down in that part of the country, but were picked up on the west coast from east-coast people who had wandered round Cape Farewell into the Danish settlement. From Labrador only sixteen tales have been obtained, from materials written down by Moravian missionaries resident in that country in the years 1861-63, and one half of those are undoubtedly identical with Greenland tales, some passages of them even exhibiting the most striking verbal conformity. Besides the tales written down in North Greenland in 1861-63, the author was furnished with a very valuable collection written down by natives there in the years 1823-28, but never published.

It has generally been an easy task to make out whether the written relations had the character of true folk-lore, or might have been of foreign origin—i.e., either from European sources or to be traced to mere individual invention. Only a few instances of this still remain doubtful.

The entire collection of manuscripts consisted of more than five hundred tales, which, however, by uniting those which were judged to be identical, have been diminished to less than three hundred. Of that number, in this edition a great many have been omitted or given in an abridged form, as being more or less of only local interest.

[p 93]

TALES AND TRADITIONS

1. KAGSAGSUK

[The following tale has been constructed from nine different copies, received partly from various places in Greenland, and partly from Labrador, all, however, agreeing upon every principal point. It does not appear to rest upon any historical basis, but merely to have a moral tendency, bringing before us the idea of a superior power protecting the helpless, and avenging mercilessness and cruelty.]

THERE was once a poor orphan boy who lived among a lot of uncharitable men. His name was Kagsagsuk, and his foster-mother was a miserable old woman. These poor people had a wretched little shed adjoining the house-passage,⁴ and they were not allowed to enter the main room. Kagsagsuk did not even venture to enter the shed, but lay in the passage, seeking to warm himself among the dogs. In the morning, when the men were rousing their sledge-dogs with their whips, they often hit the poor boy as well as the dogs. He then would cry out, "Na-ah! Na-ah!" [p.94] mocking himself in imitating the dogs. When the men were feasting upon various frozen dishes, such as the hide of the walrus and frozen meat, the little Kagsagsuk used to peep over the threshold, and sometimes the men lifted him up above it, but only by putting their fingers into his nostrils; these accordingly enlarged, but otherwise he did not grow at all. They would give the poor wretch frozen meat, without allowing him a knife to cut it with, saying his teeth might do instead; and sometimes they pulled out a couple of teeth, complaining of his eating too much. His poor foster-mother procured him boots and a small bird-spear, in order to enable him to go outside the house and play with the other children; but they would turn him over and roll him in the snow, filling his clothes with it, and treating him most cruelly in various ways: the girls sometimes covered him all over with filth. Thus the little boy was always tormented and mocked, and did not grow except about the nostrils. At length he ventured out among the mountains by himself, choosing solitary places, and meditating how to get strength. His foster-mother had taught him how to manage this. Once, standing between two high mountains, he called out: "Lord of strength, come forth! Lord of strength, come to me!" A large animal now appeared in the shape of an amarok (now a fabulous animal, originally a wolf), and Kagsagsuk got very terrified, and was on the point of taking to his heels; but the beast soon overtook him, and, twisting its tail round his body, threw him down. Totally unable to rise, he heard the while a rustling sound, and saw a number of seal-bones, like small toys, falling from his own body. The amarok now said: "It is because of these bones that thy growth has been stopped." Again it wound its tail round the boy, and again they fell down, but the little bones were fewer this time; and when the beast threw him down the third time, the last bones fell off. The fourth time he [p.95] did not quite fall, and at the fifth he did not fall at all, but jumped along the ground. The amarok now said: "If it be thy wish to become strong and vigorous, thou mayst come every day to me." On his way home, Kagsagsuk felt very much lighter, and could even run home, meanwhile kicking and striking the stones on his way. Approaching the house, the girls who nursed the babies met him, and shouted, "Kagsagsuk is coming—let us pelt him with mud;" and the boys beat him and tormented him as before: but he made no opposition, and following his old habits, he went to sleep among the dogs. Afterwards, he met the amarok every day, and always underwent the same process. The boy felt stronger every day, and on his way home he kicked the very rocks, and rolling himself on the ground, made the stones fly about him. At last the beast was not able to overthrow him, and then it spoke: "Now, that will do; human beings will not be able to conquer thee any more. Still, thou hast better stick to thy old habits. When winter sets in, and the sea is frozen, then is thy time to show thyself; three great bears will then appear, and they shall be killed by thy hand." That day Kagsagsuk ran all the way back, kicking the stones right and left, as was his wont. But at home he went on as usual, and the people tormented him more than ever. One day, in the autumn, the kayakers ⁵ returned home with a large piece of driftwood, which they only made fast to some large stones on the beach, finding it too heavy to be carried up to the house at once. At nightfall, Kagsagsuk said to his mother, "Let me have thy boots, mother, that I too may go down and have a look at the large piece of timber." When all had gone to rest, he slipped out of the house, and having reached the beach, and loosened the moorings, he flung the piece of timber on his shoulders and carried it up behind the house, where [p.96] he buried it deep in the ground. In the morning, when the first of the men came out, he cried, "The driftwood is gone!" and when he was joined by the rest, and they saw the strings cut, they wondered how it could possibly have drifted away, there being neither wind nor tide. But an old woman, who happened to go behind the house, cried, "Just look! here is the spar!" whereat they all rushed to the spot, making a fearful noise, shouting, "Who can have done this? there surely must be a man of extraordinary strength among us!" and the young men all gave themselves great airs, that each might be believed to be the great unknown strong man—the impostors!

In the beginning of the winter, the housemates of Kagsaguk ill-treated him even worse than before; but he stuck to his old habits, and did not let them suspect anything. At last the sea was quite frozen over, and seal-hunting out of the question. But when the days began to lengthen, the men one day came running in to report that three bears were seen climbing an iceberg. Nobody, however, ventured to go out and attack them. Now was Kagsagsuk's time to be up and doing. "Mother," he said, "let me have thy boots, that I too may go out and have a look at the bears!" She did not like it much, but, however, she threw her boots to him, at the same time mocking him, saying, "Then fetch me a skin for my couch, and another for my coverlet, in return." He took the boots, fastened his ragged clothes around him, and then was off for the bears. Those who were standing outside cried, "Well, if that is not Kagsagsuk! What can he be about? Kick him away!" and the girls went on, "He must surely be out of his wits!" But Kagsagsuk came running right through the crowd, as if they had been a shoal of small fish; his heels seemed almost to be touching his neck, while the snow, foaming about, sparkled in rainbow colours. He ascended the iceberg [p.97] by taking hold with his hands, and instantly the largest bear lifted his paw, but Kagsagsuk turned round to make himself hard (viz., invulnerable by charm), and seizing hold of the animal by the fore-paws, flung it against the iceberg, so that the haunches were severed from the body, and then threw it down on the ice to the bystanders, crying, "This was my first catch; now, flense away⁶ and divide!" The others now thought, "The next bear will be sure to kill him." The former process, however, was repeated, and the beast thrown down on the ice; but the third bear he merely caught hold of by the fore-paws, and, swinging it above his head, he hurled it at the bystanders, crying, "This fellow behaved shamefully towards me!" and then, smiting another, "That one treated me still worse!" until they all fled before him, making for the house in great consternation. On entering it himself he went straight to his foster-mother with the two bear-skins, crying, "There is one for thy couch, and another for thy coverlet!" after which he ordered the flesh of the bears to be dressed and cooked. Kagsagsuk was now requested to enter the main room; in answer to which request he, as was his wont, only peeped above the threshold, saying, "I really can't get across, unless some one will lift me up by the nostrils;" but nobody else venturing to do so now, his old foster-mother came and lifted him up as he desired. All the men had now become very civil to him. One would say, "Step forward;" another, "Come and sit down, friend." "No, not there where the ledge⁷ has no cover," cried another; "here is a nice seat for Kagsagsuk." But rejecting their offers, be sat down, as usual, on the side-ledge. Some of them went [p.98] on, "We have got boots for Kagsagsuk;" and others, "Here are breeches for him!" and the girls rivalled each other in offering to make clothes for him. After supper, one of the inmates of the house told a girl to go and fetch some water for "dear Kagsagsuk." When she had returned and he had taken a drink, he drew her tenderly towards him, praising her for being so smart for fetching water; but, all of a sudden, he squeezed her so hard that the blood rushed out of her mouth. But he only remarked, "Why, I think she is burst!" The parents, however, quite meekly rejoined, "Never mind, she was good for nothing but fetching water." Later on, when the boys came in, he called out to them, "What great seal-hunters ye will make!" at the same time seizing hold of them and crushing them to death; others he killed by tearing their limbs asunder. But the parents only said, "It does not signify—he was a good-for-nothing; he only played a little at shooting." Thus Kagsagsuk went on attacking and putting to death all the inmates of the house, never stopping until the whole of them had perished by his hand. Only the poor people who had been kind to him he spared, and lived with them upon the provisions that had been set by as stores for the winter. Taking also the best of the kayaks left, he trained himself to the use of it, at first keeping close to the shore; but after some time he ventured farther out to sea, and soon went south and northwards in his kayak. In the pride of his heart he roamed all over the country to show off his strength; therefore, even nowadays he is known all along the coast, and on many places there are marks of his great deeds still shown, and this is why the history of Kagsagsuk is supposed to be true.

 NOTE.—In the Labrador tale, the name of the champion is called Kaujakjuk, and in different copies from Greenland, Kausaksuk, Kassaksuk, Kausasuk, and Kauksaksuk. Several parts of Greenland claim the honour of pointing out the ruins of his house. A remarkable ruin on cape Noogsuak, of a very doubtful origin, is supposed to have been his bear-trap. In one of the writings, the relater, hinting at the European fancy for curiosities, [p.99] observes: "I wonder why the masters, or even the king himself, who all seem so very fond of collecting rare things, if they really believe in the tale, have not taken one of the stones from this trap to be brought away with some ship, if possible."

2. THE BLIND MAN WHO RECOVERED HIS SIGHT

[The text of this story has been collated from eight copies, among which two have been received from Labrador, the rest from different parts of Greenland, three of them having been written down before 1828. Like the former, it seems to have no historical, but only a moral or mythological reference.]

A WIDOW had a son and a daughter. When the son grew up, he made himself useful in different ways, and also commenced seal-hunting. One day in the beginning of winter he caught a thong-seal (a very large species, Phoca barbata⁸). On bringing it home, his mother wanted the skin for a ledge-cover, but he insisted on having it for making hunting-lines.⁹ The mother grew angry, and in preparing the skin and removing the hairs, she practised some witchcraft on it, and spoke thus: "When he cuts thee into thongs, when he cuts thee asunder, then thou shalt snap and smite his face;" and she rejoiced in the thought that it would hit him. When she had finished her preparations, [p.100] and he had cut out the first thong, he stretched and strained it; but in scraping it with a shell, a small blister burst, and hitting both his eyes, blinded him.

The winter coming on, they were destitute of their main provisions, and had to live entirely upon mussels (Mytilus edulis); and the blind boy took his place on the ledge, unable to go out hunting any more. Thus he passed the first half of the winter. A great bear then appeared, which began to eat away their (skin¹⁰) window-pane, and next thrust its head into the room. The mother and the sister fled in great terror to the inmost retired part of the ledge; but the blind man said to his sister, "Please bring my bow;" and she having given it to him, he bent it, and asked her to take the right aim for him. Levelling it at the animal, she gave him the signal, whereon he shot, and the arrow struck the bear so that it fell to the ground. The mother said, "Thou hitst the window instead of the beast;" but his sister whispered, "Thou hast killed a bear." They had now provisions for the coming days; but the mother never gave her son any of the boiled bear-flesh, but only a few shell-fish instead, and never let him taste a meal from his own hunting, but, in order to starve him, concealed her having any flesh. His sister, however, gave him his portion when the mother was absent, and he swallowed it in haste before her return. In this manner the greater part of the winter passed away. At last the days lengthened; and one day, in the spring, the sister said, "Dost thou remember how very delightful the time was when thou hadst still got thy sight, and wast able to go out hunting, and how we used to roam about the country?" The brother answered, "To be sure; let us be off again. I can take hold of thee." And the next morning at daybreak they went out together, he taking [p.101] hold of her garments; and all day long they wandered about, the sister occupied in gathering shrubs¹¹ for fuel. One day they came to a large plain beside a lake, and the brother then said, "I think I will lie down a little, while thou goest away to find more fuel;" and accordingly she left him. Whilst he was thus resting himself, he heard some wild geese flying in the air above him, and when they were right over his head, he heard one of them crying out, "Look at the poor young man down there; he is blind: would we could make him see." When the birds approached him he never stirred, but lay quietly on his back. At this moment he had a sense of something warm falling down on his eyes, one of the wild geese having dropped its excrement upon them, and heard a voice saying, "Keep thy eyes shut till the sound of our wings has altogether passed away, then thou mayst try to open them." Again he lay down motionless; while the wild goose, sweeping its wings across his face, repeated, "Mind thou dost not open thy eyes." The sound of their wings now dying away, he already observed a certain brightness; but when the noise had altogether passed away, he opened his eyes wide, and had his sight restored to him. He now called out, "Nayagta!" (so he called his sister). But she did not return till evening, when she was seen coming across the country, moody and downhearted, with one arm drawn out of the sleeve of her jacket, and her chin hidden in the fur collar. Perceiving her, he again called out, "Nayagta, now thou needst not be in want of food or anything else; I shall give thee clothes, for now I have my sight again." But she only gainsaid him, and would not believe him until she looked into his reopened eyes, and saw their sound and healthy appearance. They both agreed not to let their mother know what had happened. In descending the hills, and approaching [p.102] the house, he caught sight of his bear-skin stretched out to dry, and in front of the entrance its bones, and on entering the main room he got a glimpse of its paws. Shutting his eyes, he now took his usual place on the ledge, and feigning to have been asleep, he started up, saying, "I dreamt I saw a bear-skin stretched out behind the house;" but the old woman merely replied, "Thou must surely have been thinking about somebody who happened to hurt thee some time ago." Again the son feigned sleeping, and starting up, he said, "Methinks I also saw a lot of bear-bones outside the entrance." The old woman repeated her first answer; but the third time, on seeming to awake, the son said, "I dreamt I saw two bear's paws here underneath the couch;" and the mother again giving the same answer, suddenly opening his eyes, he said, "Mother, I mean these;" and then she knew that he had regained the use of his eyes, and she exclaimed, "Eat them, just eat them!" He now took up his old habits, and again commenced seal-hunting; but, after some time, the idea grew upon him to take revenge on his detestable old mother. The season was at hand when the white whales¹² began to appear along the ice-bound shore, and he used to catch them in the following manner: he went out on the ice with his sister, and having fastened his hunting-line round her waist, he threw the harpoon which was attached to the line into the fish, thus making her serve him instead of a hunting-bladder.¹³ After which, they hauled together till they had safely landed the fish on the ice, where they afterwards killed it.

One day, returning home, he asked his sister, "Dost thou like our old mother?" She made no answer; but on his repeating the question she only answered, "I am [p.103] more fond of thee than of her; thou art the only one I do love." "Well, then, to-morrow she shall serve us for a bladder. I'll pay her off for having made me blind." They both agreed upon the plan; and returning to the house where they found the mother busy mending boots, he said, "Oh dear, how tired we are with hauling in the fish! Now let my sister have a rest to-morrow; meantime thou mightst serve me as a hunting-bladder. I suppose thou canst keep thy footing when the fish pull the line." The mother declaring herself willing, they all went down to the open sea the next morning; but when the white whales appeared, and he was preparing to harpoon them, she said: "Take one of the smallest, and not the large ones;" and perceiving some very little fish coming up, she cried, "Look out and try for one of these;" but be answered, "They are still too big." At the same instant, however, one of the very largest fishes rose to the surface; and harpooning it, he let go his hold of the line, and when the animal had drawn his mother pretty close to the water, he cried out, "Dost thou remember the time thou madest me blind?" and while she endeavoured to hold back, he pushed her on, saying, "That fellow will give me my revenge." When she was close to the very edge of the water, she cried, "My ullo!" (woman's knife)—"it was I who nursed thee;" and with these words she was plunged into the sea, which soon covered her. Still she reappeared on the surface, crying, "My ullo, my ullo; I nursed thee!" but then disappeared for ever. It is said that she was afterwards transformed into a fish, and that her spreading hair turned into long horny teeth, from which the narwhals¹⁴ are said to have their origin. The white whales having all disappeared, brother and sister returned to the house, and lamented the loss of their mother, feeling conscious that she had nursed them, and taken care of them. [p.104] They now began to be terrified at their deed, and dared not stay in their little house; they therefore fled on eastward, far away to the large continent, roaming about the interior parts of the country.¹⁵ At first he would not even kill a bird, feeling pity towards them for having restored the use of his eyes to him; but at last he killed a swan, because his sister wanted to have it, and it is said that this was the only bird he caught for the remainder of his life. Far away from the coast they built their house; they grew to be immensely old, and were always without friends. At length they determined to show themselves among other people, and he resolved upon going to some place which had an angakok (priest of the heathens). After a while he found such people, and decided to await the time when the angakok was going to conjure his spirits. He then went up to the house; but ere he reached it, the angakok began to complain, and cried, "I am going to let a spirit out upon you; a large fire is just outside" (viz., the kivigtok, supernatural beings in general making their appearance like a flame or brightness). The man who was standing outside now made his inquiry: "Do you not know me?—have ye heard of him who used his mother for a hunting-bladder?" and as no one answered him, he repeated the same question over again. An old woman now rejoined: "I remember to have heard in my childhood that many many years ago there lived a brother and a sister who fastened their poor mother as a bladder to a white whale." The stranger outside then said: "I am that very man; I have come to denounce myself: do come out and see what I am like." The angakok went out, followed by his auditors, and they saw him standing erect in the bright moonlight beside the boat. The hair of his head was snowy white, as if he [p.105] had been covered with a hood of white hare-skins; but his face was black, and his clothes were made of reindeer-skins, and he told them that his sister was not able to move from old age, and that they had their hut far away in the interior of the country, and that their house-fellows were terrible beings with heads like seals; and lastly he added: "After this, I will not show myself any more to human creatures; those to whom I wanted to denounce myself I have done it to." After having said these words he turned away, and has never been seen afterwards.

 NOTE.—The son's name has in Greenland been called Tutigak; in Labrador, Kemongak. According to the Labrador tale, the birds make him dive into the lake; according to the Greenland readings, the mother cried, "It was I who cleared away thy urine"—instead of "nursed thee."

[p.106]

3. IGIMARASUGSUK

[This somewhat trifling but still curious story is well known to every child in Greenland; and one tale has also been got from Labrador, and is undoubtedly another reading of the same original, though much abridged and altered.]

IT was said of Igimarasugsuk that he always lost his wives in a very short time, and always as quickly married again; but nobody knew that he always killed and ate his wives, as well as his little children. At last he married a girl who had a younger brother, and many relatives besides. Entering the house on his return from a reindeer-hunt, he one day said to his brother-in-law: "Pray go and fetch me my axe—thou wilt find it lying underneath the boat-pillars" (viz., pillars upon which the boat is laid during the winter); and at the same time Igimarasugsuk got up and followed him. On hearing the shrieks of her brother, the wife of Igimarasugsuk peeped out, and beheld him pursuing the former, and shortly after striking him on the head, so that he fell down dead on the spot. After this he ordered his wife to dress and boil some parts of the body of her brother. Igimarasugsuk now commenced eating, and offered a piece of an arm to his wife, insisting upon her eating with him; but she only feigned to do so, and concealed her portion under the ashes of the fire. Then the husband exclaimed, "I actually think thou art crying!" "No," she said; "I am only a little shy." After having devoured his brother-in-law, the husband now began to fatten his wife; and to this end ordered her to eat nothing but reindeer-tallow, and only drink as much as a small shell would hold. At last she grew so fat that she was not able to move about at all. One day he went away, after having securely shut the entrance to the summer-tent, [p.107] fastening it with strong cords. When he had been gone a considerable time she took her knife, let herself fall down from the bench, and rolled herself as far as to the entry. By great efforts she crossed the threshold, and was now in the fore-room, where she cut the strings fastening the outer curtain. She then rolled herself down to a muddy pool and drank a great deal of water; after which she felt less heavy, and was able to get up and walk back. She re-entered the tent, stuffed out her jacket, put it on the bench with its back turned outward; and fastening the entrance well, she went away. But being convinced that her husband would shortly pursue her, she took her way down to a very large piece of drift-wood that had been hauled ashore, and she then worked a spell upon it, singing thus: "ĸissugssuaĸ pingerssuaĸ, ia-ha-ha, arape, ĸupe, sipe, sipe sisaria." And forthwith the timber opened midways, and she entered it, again singing, "ĸissugssuak .... arape, mame, mamesisaria." Then it closed around her, leaving her in darkness. In the meantime she heard her husband coming on towards the spot. He had entered the tent, and seeing the stuffed jacket, he thrust his lance into it; but on discovering what it really was, he ran out, and following the footprints of his wife all the way to the timber, he stopped there, and she plainly heard him say: "Oh what a pity I waited so long in killing her! oh poor miserable me!" Then she heard him turn away and return several times; but every trace ending at the large timber, he at last went away, and she again sang ĸissugssuaĸ, &c. &c., and instantly the drift-wood opening, she crept out and ran farther on. But lest he should overtake and discover her, she hid herself in a fox-hole. Every trace again ending here, she heard him digging the very earth with his hands; but he soon grew tired, and went away, returning and again going away as before, bemoaning himself in the same manner: "Oh what a pity, poor miserable man that I am!" &c. &c. [p.108] Perceiving him to be gone, she again set off on her journey. Still, however, fearing him, she next took refuge behind some bushes. Again she heard him come and repeat his old lament: "What a pity I put off eating her so long!" and again going away, he immediately returned, saying, "Here every trace of her ends." Proceeding on her way, she now had a faint hope of reaching some inhabited place ere he could get up with her again. At length she caught sight of some people gathering berries in the country; but on perceiving her they were on the point of taking fright, when she cried out, "I am the wife of Igimarasugsuk." They now approached her, and taking hold of her hands, brought her to their home. Having arrived there she said: "Igimarasugsuk, who has the habit of eating his wives, has also eaten his brother-in-law; and if he really wants to get hold of me too, he will be sure to come and fetch me; and as he is very fond of entertainment, ye had better treat him civilly and politely." Soon after, he arrived; but she hid herself behind a skin curtain. The rest rose up and went out to welcome him, saying: "We trust thy people at home are quite well." "Yes, they are very well indeed," he answered. When he had entered they served a meal before him, and afterwards offered him a drum, saying, "Now let us have a little of thy performance." He took hold of the drum, but soon returned it to one of the others, saying, "Ye ought rather to entertain me;" and the other man, seizing the drum, began to sing: "Igimarasugsuk—the cruel man—who ate his wives." ... At these words Igimarasugsuk blushed all over his face and down his throat; but when the singer continued, "and she was forced to eat of her own brother's arm," the wife came forward, saying, "No, indeed, I did not; I concealed my share beneath the ashes." They now caught hold of him, and the wife killed him with a lance, saying, "Dost thou remember thrusting thy lance into my stuffed jacket?"

[p.109]

4. KUMAGDLAT AND ASALOK

[This story, also well known in all parts of Greenland, has been derived from five copies, written in different parts of that country. Unlike the preceding tales, it exhibits a more historical appearance, apparently referring to certain occurrences which must have taken place during the stay of the primeval Eskimo on the shores of the American continent, and have been repeated until our day. It indicates the first appearances of culture in attempts to provide tools or weapons from seashells, stones, and metal, as well as conflicts and meetings of the Eskimo with the Indians, which in recent times have still taken place on the banks of the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers.]

THREE cousins named Kumagdlat, Asalok, and Merak were very fond of one another. Kumagdlat occupied a house by himself, and had his own boat.¹⁶ The other two kept a house and a boat in partnership; but they all assisted each other early and late, and amused themselves in exercising and exhibiting their mutual strength. When they went out kayaking, they always accompanied each other in a friendly and amicable manner, and were on the whole much attached to one another. Kumagdlat had an old crone living with him, and she used to be very cross-tempered; and one day he accosted her as follows: "I won't have cross old women living in my house, and I shall certainly put thee to death some day or other." The old hag now behaved peacefully and quietly, until one day she exclaimed: "I can tell thee, it is not without reason that I am so quiet and low-spirited; from the first day thou began to maintain and support me I have been very sorry for thee, and this has made me silent and downhearted." "How so?" asked Kumagdlat; and she answered: "Is it not that thy cousins love thee so very [p.110] dearly? Nevertheless they now intend to put an end to thy life." However, she had invented this lie, being so ill-natured and resentful that she could not even sleep at night. But from that time Kumagdlat began to fear his cousins; and though he never used to be parted from them all day long, he now began to shun them. One day in the spring they entered his house, saying, "Art thou not going out in thy kayak to-day?" But he answered, "No, I can't go; I must leave my kayak time to dry,"—and accordingly they set out without him. In their absence he dug up his tent-poles from the snow, and had just finished when they returned. Next morning they again entered with the same question, but he answered as before: "No, I must have my kayak perfectly dry before I can use it." They would have liked him to go with them; but as he would not be persuaded, they again went out by themselves. As soon as they were out of sight he prepared everything for leaving his old quarters: he had his boat put in the water, and as soon as it was loaded he pushed off; but at parting he said to the people on shore: "Tell them to follow as soon as possible; we intend to go out to sea to our usual reserves" (depots for provisions): and so saying, he started. Asalok and Merak at last returned, and when they discovered that Kumagdlat was gone, they made inquiries, and received the answer, "They have newly departed, and left word that they intended to go out seaward to their usual reserves, and that they wanted you to follow them as soon as possible." They at once determined to do so; and early the next morning the boat was put right, loaded, and away they went, taking the usual direction: but they did not find him, nor any marks or traces of him along the shore. It is said that Kumagdlat had the skull of a seal for an amulet, and that now every time when he had to pass inhabited places he fixed his amulet on the prow of his boat, that the people of the places might think it to be nothing but a spotted seal diving [p.111] up and down. But in one of the settlements he thus passed there happened to be a fool, who (fools or naturals being considered as clairvoyants) always had a presentiment of whatever was to take place, and being aware of the boat passing by, he cried out, "A boat! a boat!" But when the others went out to look for it, they could only see a spotted seal diving up and down, and after awhile totally disappearing. When Asalok with his company came to this place and heard these news, they knew that Kumagdlat must have passed by, because they knew of his having such an amulet. Meantime Kumagdlat travelled on night and day without going ashore; when the rowing-girls got too tired, they only made fast the boat a short time to take rest, and then continuing their voyage, until they at last stopped at a well-peopled place, where they resolved to take up their quarters. In this place they met with a very old man busily employed in making a boat. His hair was as white as the side of an iceberg, and beside him stood a bearded young man. Some time after the arrival of Kumagdlat, the old man said to him, "Before this young man here was born I commenced building that boat, and by this time I have only just finished the hull." But right and left heaps of shells were seen piled together, these being the only tools he had had to work with. "Here we have not got so much as a single knife," rejoined the old man; "but yonder, in the interior of the country, live people who have knives in abundance." And when Kumagdlat went on asking, he continued, "Farther inland numerous erkileks ¹⁷ have their abodes, and they are immensely rich. However, when any of the coast people go there they never return, being mostly [p.112] killed, I suppose." Kumagdlat now said, "I have a great mind to go out in search of them myself;" but the old man replied, "I am afeared thou wilt not be able to do aught by thyself as even several of our people going together have always been put to death. The erkileks are rare people, and neither to be matched in swiftness nor agility." But Kumagdlat returned to his tent and set about making a small bow and arrows—the quiver he formed out of seal-skin; and having finished these, he started on his journey to the erkileks, all by himself.

When, meanwhile, the brothers Asalok and Merak likewise had wandered about the country for a long time, they at length discovered an extensive plain below them, where the erkileks lived in many tents, and only had a lake for their sea. They now hid themselves, awaiting the fall of night, and watching the return of the erkileks from their day's hunting. Beneath the rays of the setting sun they espied a very tall man carrying a burden on his back. They were just in the act of discharging their arrows at him, when both exclaimed, "Why, is not that man like Kumagdlat?" and when he answered, "Yes, so it is," they said to each other, "Well, since we have so happily met, one of the hateful erkileks shall fall." Having thus again met and recognised each other, Kumagdlat told his cousins how the old hag had calumniated them to him. When it had grown quite dark, and all was silent in the camp of the erkileks, the cousins rose up and first set out in search of some place of security for themselves. At the further side of the lake the erkileks had pitched their tents, and right opposite was a small island, which they fixed upon as a place of refuge. On arriving at the spot they observed that the distance of the island might be about a stone's-throw. Kumagdlat, with the burden on his back, was the first to venture the leap, and succeeded in gaining the island; Asalok, too, reached the opposite shore; but Merak exclaimed, "I really cannot [p.113] do it." When, however, the others prevailed upon him to try the leap, he, too, reached the island, though not without touching the water in crossing. In this place they now deposited their arrows, each providing himself with only two, after which they returned to the mainland, Merak, as before, almost touching the water. They now advanced towards the tents, where the inmates had all retired to rest. Having reached the largest, Kumagdlat said to his companions, "I'll jump up on the cross-beam above the entrance, while ye pass through the fore-room." Having passed the entrance, and peeping through the skin curtain of the main room, they beheld an old married couple inside, who were still awake. The woman, who was in the family way, was sitting upright, whilst the man was leaning forward, resting his head on his hands. All of a sudden the man gave a howl like a dog, at which the woman arose to her feet. He then commenced licking her belly, and she handed him some reindeer-tallow. Kumagdlat now said, "Next time he begins to lick her, I'll take aim and shoot her." When the old man had finished eating he gave a howl as before, and the woman again got up; but just as he was in the act of licking her, Kumagdlat shot her right through the body. A fearful yell was now heard, and Kumagdlat jumping quickly down, they all hurried across to their hiding-place, while the erkileks in great crowds issued out of their tents. The cousins, meantime, reached the island in the same manner as before. Having safely arrived there, they at once lay down in a row on the ground, each behind the other, Kumagdlat in front, then Asalok, and Merak hindmost. The erkileks began to arm and discharge their arrows at them, which they carried in quivers at their backs; but the women pulling out the arrows from above, were enabled to discharge them much quicker than the men, who pulled them out sideways. While the cousins were watching the archers on shore, always diving down before [p.114] their arrows, they noted one whistling through the air, and having slightly touched the two, they heard it strike behind them; and looking round, they saw that Merak had been dangerously hit in the throat through venturing to raise his head. Then Asalok said to Kumagdlat, "Dost not thou know any spell for restoring life?" He answered, "Yes, I believe I do;" whereupon he began to murmur some words. When he had finished, they looked round and observed that the arrow had already gone half-way out of Merak's throat, and when Kumagdlat spoke the third time, Merak was alive and unhurt. The erkileks continued shooting; but when they had used up all their arrows, Kumagdlat had only the skin of his temple grazed a little, and the cousins now arose to pay them back with their bows. When a great number of the erkileks had been shot, they pursued the rest along a river, until they reached a waterfall, where they had a hiding-place; but there Kumagdlat killed them all by throwing stones at them, as they issued forth one by one. Afterwards the friends returned to the tents, where the children had remained immovable, and stunned with terror, feigning to be dead; but the cousins caught hold of them nevertheless, and having pierced them through the ears, they quickly killed them—only one boy and a girl being left alive. They examined the furniture of the erkileks, and found pots of copper, with copper handles to them, and no requisites of any kind wanting. On opening the boxes, the covers unlocked of themselves, because of the great quantity of clothes they contained. These boxes they again closed, but opened others containing knives with beautiful handles, of which they took as many away with them as they could possibly carry, and then again made their way towards the coast. In the meantime the people with whom Kumagdlat had left his family often used to mock them, saying, "Look ye, those who go to the erkileks won't fail to bring back many fine [p.115] things, such as beautiful knives, with pretty hafts to them." On hearing this, Kumagdlat's wife would run outside, believing her husband to be coming; but they only said so because they believed him to have been killed. An old bachelor had taken her into his house and provided for her, considering her to be a widow. At the time when Kumagdlat was actually returning to the coast, the people were again ridiculing his family, crying out as before. But at the same moment the old boat-builder turned round and beheld Kumagdlat descending the hill, and carrying great loads on his back; and on his approach he discovered his burden to consist of knives with beautiful hafts. On entering the tent Kumagdlat found his mother and wife mourning his absence, and he said, "I expected to have found you with the lamps extinguished" (viz., at the point of starvation). They made answer, "The old bachelor has provided for us, that we might not perish from hunger." Kumagdlat rejoined, "Many thanks to him, then, and let him come and choose himself a knife." But the old bachelor would not enter, but wanted the knife to be brought to him; whereupon Kumagdlat said, "Having such great cause to be thankful towards him, I must have him come in." But the old man, fearing some mischief (viz., suspecting jealousy), insisted on having the knife brought out to him. Kumagdlat, however, continued calling from within; and now at last the old man just crossed the threshold, saying, "Well, then, let me have the knife:" but Kumagdlat still entreated him to come further into the room; and having at length made him sit down, said, "Thou hast provided well for these poor creatures; I thank thee very much, and hope thou wilt accept of these knives," and he offered him two with beautiful handles. It is said that the cousins afterwards returned to their old home, and that they grew very renowned for their vigour and dexterity, and killed bears as well as kilivfaks (fabulous beasts).

[p.116]

5. AKIGSIAK

[Of this tale six different copies have been received. It seems in a very remarkable way to refer to certain historical facts in regard to the intercourse between the Indians and the Eskimo, and is in some measure analogous to the folk-lore of several other nations, ascribing certain great actions, especially such as the defeating of some monstrous and dreadful animal, to one special hero. The text, however, is here given in an abridged form, the story itself not being very interesting.]

IN days of yore it once happened that some people went far into a firth to fish for salmon, and at the time one of the women was carried off by an inlander, and was taken by him to a very remote place. She belonged to the coast people, but afterwards married the man who carried her off, and they begat a son, who was named Akigsiak. In his boyhood two of his father's nephews were his constant playfellows. They often used to box and fight each other, but Akigsiak soon outdid them completely; even in swiftness his friends did not surpass him. As his mother belonged to the coast people, while his father was from the interior of the country, he was smaller of growth; but notwithstanding, he was respected and feared by the other inlanders, and had a great reputation for strength and ability in hunting. Akigsiak used to seek intercourse with the coast people in order to gain information concerning his mother's relatives; and at such a meeting he once told them as follows: "When my father grew older he was incapable of providing for us. One winter we had a great famine, and every day I went out in search of provisions; and meanwhile my father watched me from the tops of the highest mountains, at the same time taking note of any change in the weather, and as soon as the sky darkened he made me a signal that I could hear far [p.117] and wide, after which I took my way homewards. He also gave me several instructions, and said I might go anywhere excepting to the north, because of a monstrous reptile that was reported to ravage those parts. One day my father gave me the signal; but not even having had a chance of killing any game, I did not obey his call. Afterwards, when I was going to return home, the storm overtook me, and I could hardly see anything on account of the wind and the snow-drifts, and consequently lost my way. Wandering about in this manner, I at length discovered something that appeared to me like two large windows of a house; then I saw that the other parts were like a hill; and finally I saw that this was the terrible reptile against which my father had warned me. I at once took to flight. However, he had already seen me, and pursued me; but whenever he came up I leapt across him, and striking him with my lance, I continued running. At last, however, turning round to look for him, and noticing that he was quite close upon me, I cried aloud with fatigue, and falling to the ground, I lost my senses. I was soon awakened by a cool touch upon my face, and at once remembered the monster reptile. Looking about for him, I beheld him lying close to my feet. With my eyes constantly fixed upon him, I very cautiously crept away; and as he did not even move, I rose to my feet and walked on: but I did not reach my home until the fourth day, and had been given up for lost. On entering the house my father said, 'Our housemates have got nothing to help thee with.' But I told him that I had barely escaped from the reptile, and that apparently I had left him dead; and then my father said, 'The body of the reptile is said to consist of nothing but fat;' and he added, 'our house-fellows are almost starving.' These were now informed of what had happened, and they went out in search of the monster; but many of them died before they reached the spot—some just outside their houses [p.118] others farther away, till the whole road was covered with dead bodies. But those who reached the reptile flensed away at him, and found him to consist principally of fat, mixed with a little lean flesh. They afterwards had it for food the whole winter." This was Akigsiak's report at his first meeting with the coast people.

The next time he told how he had once been away on an excursion with his father, and that on approaching the sea-shore they observed a whale close outside, and a number of coast people standing on the beach. By his father's orders he ran down and made an old man teach him a magic lay for luring the whale up the river. As soon as the whale had entered the river a crowd of inlanders appeared; but before they had been able to penetrate the skin of the whale with their harpoons, Akigsiak ran off home in order to fetch his weapons. Though he had to round three large bays on his way, he was still in good time to despatch the whale after his return, and then proceeded to give everybody his share of it, not forgetting the old coast man, whom he protected against the inlanders. At the third meeting he went on to tell how, having once heard that some other inlanders had caught an immense fish the shape of a salmon, he hurried down to the river-side and threw his harpoon also into the fish, but that his companions being too few, the other inlanders stationed on the opposite side succeeded in hauling it from them. He then hastened on to a place where the river was somewhat narrower, and in jumping across hurled himself round, head over heels, before he alighted on his feet at the opposite shore. There he soon frightened away the other inlanders, took his share of the fish—which he threw across to his own people on the other side—and then jumped back in the same way he had come. At his fourth meeting with the coast people, Akigsiak told them about a quarrel he once had with an igalilik (viz., "pot-bearer," certain fabulous inlanders [p.119] carrying boiling pots on their shoulders), whom he had pushed down a precipice, crushing him to death against the rocks. At last, Akigsiak met with an inorusek (another kind of gigantic inlanders) on the high banks of a river. While they were amusing themselves with throwing stones, the inorusek persuaded him to try to hit a kayaker just passing by below, whom he did not fail to kill on the spot. Akigsiak, repenting himself of his deed, afterwards slew the inorusek, but is said never from this time to have ventured himself among the coast people again, because of the murder he had committed. Only once, they say, did he go to visit a certain coast man, who lived on the banks of a river, in order to try a boxing-match and a race with him. Although he was said to be a smaller man than the other inlanders, he was at all events larger than our people; his back was as broad as that of two others put together, and his height very little less than two people on top of each other.

6. THE FRIENDS

[This is a very famous Greenland story, and is, in its present form, compiled from three copies.]

TWO friends loved each other very dearly. From childhood they had been constant companions. One lived at one of the outermost islands, and the other had his abode far up, at the head of a fiord. They very often visited each other, and when they had been parted for some days, they felt a mutual longing to meet again. In the summer the man from the fiord used to go out [p.120] reindeer-hunting in the interior; but before he went back to the place where he lived, he always took a whole reindeer, choosing one of those with velvety horns and leaving all the tallow in it, to regale his friend with. The islander, on his part, saved and laid by large quantities of seals: and when the reindeer-hunter returned, he immediately visited his friend and was regaled with nicely-dried seal-flesh; but in the evening, when the room grew heated, the frozen meat was produced and set before his friend as a cold dish. The guest then praised it very much, and they gossiped till late in the evening. The next day the reindeer-hunter usually had a visit from his friend, but now they only ate reindeer-flesh, and especially the tallow. The friend found it extremely delicious, and ate till he was ready to burst; and at his departure next day he was presented with some dried meat and tallow.

One autumn the hunter lingered in the interior longer than usual. At length the earth was quite frozen over, and still he did not return. At first the friend longed very much for him, but after a while he grew angry with him; and when the first of the preserved seals began to spoil, they commenced to eat away at the whole lot. Later on, when he heard that the hunter had returned, he went out to a grave and cut a bit of fat from a dead body, and with this he rubbed certain parts of a seal he intended to treat his friend with, in order to do him an evil turn on his arrival. Shortly afterwards he came to pay his visit. The meeting was very pleasant, and as usual he was regaled with various delicacies; and the hunter now told that he had had small luck in getting the reindeer with velvety horns, and this was the reason why he had stayed away so long; and his friend answered, "I was expecting thee very anxiously for some time, but when my first preserved seals began to rot, we ate them all up;" and he added, "let us have the one that was last put by; we will have it for a cold dish." It was [p.121] accordingly brought in and nicely served up, and the host laid the piece that had been rubbed over with the bit of fat uppermost, and set it before his friend, at the same time begging him to partake of it; but just as the visitor was in the act of helping himself to a piece, something from beneath the ledge gave a pull at his leg. This somewhat puzzled him; however, he was going to commence a second time when he got another pull, on which he said, "I must go outside a little," and rose up at the same time and went. Being an angakok, the voice of his tornak (guardian-spirit) now warned him, saying, "Thy friend regales thee with a base design; turn the piece over when thou goest back and eat of the opposite part; if thou eatest of the part that is now uppermost thou wilt be sure to go mad." Having again seated himself, be turned the meat over; but his host thought it might be a mere accident. When the guest had eaten sufficiently, be felt a pain in his stomach—he had probably touched some of the poisoned flesh; but he soon recovered, and on taking leave, he asked his friend to return the visit soon. When he came home he took a reindeer with velvety horns and treated it in the same manner as his friend had done the seal—rubbing it well with some fat from a dead body; and when his guest came, be instantly regaled him with dried meat and tallow, and never before had the visitor found it so much to his taste. At night the reindeer was set before them with the poisoned side turned up, and putting the knife into it, be said, "There, we have got some cold meat; I have kept it for thee this long while." The friend ate away at it, and several times exclaimed, "This is really delicious!" and the host answered, "Yes, that is because it is so very fat." When the meal was over, the guest felt a pain in his stomach, and, looking hard at every one present, be got up and went outside, but the pains were not relieved. Next day be took his leave, and it was a long time before his friend saw him again; when he [p.122] went out kayaking he never met him as he had done formerly. At length, when the ice began to cover the waters, a boat was seen to put into the firth from the sea, and was recognised as being the boat of the friend; but finding that he himself was not of the party, he asked, "Where is your master?" "He is ill, and has turned raving mad; he wanted to eat us, and therefore we all took flight." On the very next day the huntsman went out to visit his friend. Nobody was to be seen about the house; but, creeping through the entry and looking over the threshold, he beheld his friend lying on his back, with eyes staring wildly, and his head hanging over the edge of the couch. He went up to him and asked him how he did, but no answer was given. After a short silence he suddenly started up and shouted with all his might, "Because thou hast feasted me basely, I have eaten up all the inmates of my house, and I will now devour thee too"—and he bounded towards him; but the other escaped through the entry, and quickly made for his kayak. He only succeeded in pushing off as his pursuer was in the very act of seizing hold of him. The madman now continued running along the shore and crying, "I feel much better now; do come back. When I have not seen thee for a day or two, I am longing dreadfully for thee." On hearing him speak quite sensibly the friend believed him, and put back again. As soon as he reached the shore, however, the former made a rush at him; but, happily observing this, he pushed off in time. At home he never spoke nor ate from grief for his friend, and his housemates thought him much altered. Towards night he commenced talking to them of his own accord, and told them how he had fared; but the others advised him never to return any more, being sure the madman would eat him too, if he had the chance. Nevertheless, he paddled away the very next morning as if compelled to do so. Then it all happened just as on the former day. The madman pursued him right into the house, and [p 123] fastened the door, so that he was obliged to get out through the window, and he barely escaped to his kayak. The day after, they again tried to detain him; but he was bent upon going. He entered his friend's house and found him worse than before: this time he was lying with his head on the floor and his heels resting on the edge of the bench; his eyes were far protruded and staring wildly, and the bone of his nose as sharp as a knife's edge. On approaching him he started up and pursued his former friend round the room, always crying, "I am starving; I must have thee for food." At last the friend succeeded in jumping out of the window, and reached his kayak; but no sooner had he got clear of the shore than he saw the madman walking on the surface of the water, ready to seize hold of the prow of his kayak. He now began swinging to and fro in his kayak, and by this means ripples were formed, so that the madman could not steady himself, but was very nearly falling. Thus he once more escaped him. The day after, his housemates again wanted to detain him, but he answered them, "When I have not seen my friend for a whole day, I am ready to die with longing, and cannot desist from going to him." Having arrived at the house of his friend, he found it to be deserted; he searched about everywhere, but did not find him. Outside he observed some footprints winding up hills, and following them, he stopped at a cave in the rock. Here his friend was sitting bent together and much shrunk. As he did not move his friend went up to him, and on trying to lift him up, found him to be quite dead, and his eyelids filled with blood. He now carefully covered and closed up the entrance of the cave, and was henceforth friendless.

[p.124]

7. KATERPARSUK

[This is also very commonly known all over Greenland, and the subjoined version is constructed from five manuscripts.]

KATERPARSUK was a poor orphan boy. When he grew up he was anxious to get on in the world, because nobody wanted to take care of him and help him along. At length he resolved, by his own efforts, to try to make himself a kayak; but, nobody being willing to lend him a knife, he first tried to work with stone tools, and later on with shells. In the same place there happened to live a wicked man, who, instead of pitying the poor boy, took delight in annoying and terrifying him. For this purpose he disguised himself in a bearskin, and stole up behind Katerparsuk, growling like a bear. On turning round and perceiving him, Katerparsuk flung down his work and tools in consternation, and ran away. When the other house-fellows came to the spot and saw his implements of shells and stones, they were quite moved at the sight. Meanwhile the wicked man came forward and said to Katerparsuk, "Instead of pitying thee I scorned thee; because thou, silly boy, couldst ever think of making a kayak all by thyself: and that was why I frightened thee in a bear-skin." On hearing this his housemates broke out into a fit of laughter at the poor boy's embarrassment; but he grew mortally vexed, and only thought of revenge and resentment. Subsequently he betook himself to solitary places, and studied angakok science. After a long time he finished his kayak, and exercised himself in rowing and hunting, and shortly afterwards he was even able to hunt seals. Having once, from the top of a hill, seen a walrus dive, he thought, "Oh that I could make him [p.125] throw off his skin!" He began to sing a magic lay, but without any result. Very much dissatisfied, he went home, but did not rest till he had got up an incantation that would suit his purpose. He tried the effect of it on a hare, and as it proved successful, he more than ever contemplated revenge. One day, when all the hunters were away in their kayaks, he likewise betook himself to his oar, and rowed out to a remote place. There he landed, and having ascended a very high hill, whence he had a view of the sea, he detected a great many walrus diving up and down. He began to sing his magic lay to one of them, which soon approached the beach right below him; he continued singing louder and louder until the animal at last threw off his skin. Katerparsuk at once crept into it, and began to try swimming and diving, and when the kayakers approached, he knew how to harden his skin so that the harpoon could not pierce it. Meanwhile the wicked man had grown old and decrepit, and had given up seal-hunting; he now only went out fishing. Once Katerparsuk put on his walrus-skin and emerged from the water close to the place where the old man was fishing. He then heard him exclaim, "Oh that I were young again, what a catch I might have had!" Meantime he returned home, collected all his hunting implements, which he had not been using for a long time, and took them out with him to his fishing-place the next day. "Oh, look! there he is again!" the old man exclaimed, upon which he paddled towards him: but Katerparsuk hardened his skin, and made it tough; and seizing the point of the harpoon, pulled it down into the water along with the hunting-bladder, from which he took away the stopper, so that the air escaped, and then he hurried home in his kayak. But the old man was vexed that he had lost his bladder-float; and at home he said, boasting, "I have again commenced to go out hunting; to-day I pursued a large walrus, but he escaped me, and took my bladder-float [p.126] along with him." Katerparsuk let him chat on, but in the evening he invited all the men to come and have a feast with him, and the old man was of the party. After the meal he once more began to talk of his chase and of the loss he had sustained. Before their arrival, Katerparsuk had hung up the bladder-float along with the harpoon-line on a peg in the wall; and while the old man was prating, he pointed to them, saying, "Look, there are all thy hunting tools, and thou canst take them away with thee when thou goest home." And the old man looked quite abashed, and left the party in a somewhat confused state. It is said that the resentment of Katerparsuk was somewhat appeased by the fun he had had in playing walrus to the man who had been playing bear to him.

8. A TALE ABOUT TWO GIRLS

[The text is constructed from two manuscripts, one from Labrador and the other written down in Greenland, anterior to 1828.]

TWO little girls were playing with some small bones on the beach; the one with eagle-bones, the other with whale-bones. Suddenly an eagle came soaring through the air above them, and one of the girls said, "I will have an eagle for my husband;" and the other replied, "Thou mayst rejoice that thou hast already got a husband; I will have a whale for mine." Instantly a whale was seen to spout out at sea. And the eagle took one girl up and flew away with her, and the whale took the other down to the bottom of the sea, having first [p.127] made her eyes and ears impenetrable, so that the water could not enter. The eagle carried his bride to the top of a steep cliff, and brought her different sorts of little birds for food; but she gathered all the sinews of the birds' wings, and knotted them together, in order to make a string of them. One day, when the eagle was away, she tried the length of it, and found that it reached down to the level of the sea. Another day she saw a kayaker rowing along the shore; and when he came just below, she called out to him to send a boat to rescue her. Soon afterwards the boat appeared, and she went sliding down by her string of sinews, and got back to her parents. But the eagle, who missed his mate, soared above the houses beating his wings; and one of the inhabitants of the place cried out to him, "If thou wantest to show thou hast been married into our family, spread out thy wings;" but when the eagle did so they shot him through the body. The other girl who had been stolen by the whale was secured to the bottom of the sea by a rope; and when he was at home, she had nothing to do but to sit picking the lice ¹⁸ from off his body. She had two brothers living close by, and both set about building a boat of immense swiftness, in which they intended to deliver their sister; but when the boat was finished it could not match a bird in speed, and was therefore broken to pieces, and another begun. This boat proved a match for a flying bird, but was nevertheless discarded, and they again built a new one, in which they tried to overtake a gull; and on finding that this one even outdid the bird, they started from home to fetch back their sister. On becoming aware of their approach she loosened the cord that held her, and twisting it round the stone, she left with the boat. When the whale on his return drew the cord to get hold of her, and discovered that she was gone, he hurried after her. But [p.128] when he came quite close to the boat she threw her outer jacket into the water to him. Having snapped at it he let it go, and again pursued her; and when he had got quite close up with them, she flung her inner jacket at him, which again detained the whale: but he soon reached them for the third time. Then she threw her long jacket, and before he could overtake them again they had already landed; but when the whale reached the shore he was transformed into a piece of whalebone.

9. THE BROTHERS VISIT THEIR SISTER

[This tale is very popular in Greenland. Traces of it are also found mixed up with other tales from Greenland, and with one from Labrador. Here the text is very nearly a literal translation from a single manuscript, by a native of South Greenland.]

A MAN had three children; the eldest was a daughter. She married a man from a far-away place in the south while her brothers were still little children. In their boyhood they were not aware of their having a sister, because their father purposely never mentioned it to them. At last they had become quite grown up, and began to catch seals, and still they had never heard of their sister, until one day the mother said, "I think ye don't even know that ye have got a sister!" Upon which they immediately began asking about her place of abode; to which the mother replied, "Look there; do you see the high mountains yonder to the south of us? Beyond these is the winter station of your sister, whose hair, strange to say, is quite white on one side. However, ye [p.129] must not think of going there, for the people she is living among are all cannibals." On hearing this the eldest brother changed his mind, and gave up the idea of going; but the younger one still longed as much as before to see his sister. The mother tried to dissuade him, but he wanted to go more than ever. The following day the brothers set out on their journey, but the parents warned them, saying, "If ye reach the country yonder in the day-time ye must wait the fall of night, and not go near them until they are all asleep, lest ye should be murdered by them." And when they had gone away the parents gave them up for lost. The travellers reached the high mountains in the south, and began to examine the land below, in order to discover houses. At length the eldest brother said, "When people are found to be living at the foot of the mountains, the ravens will be sure to be soaring in the air above." At last they observed a craggy hill, above which a great number of ravens were flying. The brothers now turned away from the frozen sea and made for the shore, where they at length secured their sledges, and waited the fall of night. But when it had become quite dark, and when they supposed the inhabitants to have gone to bed, they again drew nearer. They were now in sight of many houses, the first of which had three windows; and having gone close up to it, they cautiously mounted the roof and looked down the vent-hole; and saw a nasty-looking man sitting in front of the lamp beside his wife, who seemed in the act of picking the lice off him, and who appeared to be quite white on one side of her head. The eldest brother now got up and said, "Were we not told that our sister was to be white-haired on one side of her head? do come and see!" The younger brother now looked down, and perceiving her, exclaimed in great consternation, "Why, that must surely be our sister sitting down there! Just spit down through the hole, before the lamp, and when they notice that, some one will probably [p.130] come out." The moment he spat down, the woman gave the man a push, and said, "Somebody must have come from afar to see us; do make haste and get up!" On which he instantly rose, took up his bow, and went outside. When they saw him emerge from the house-passage, carrying the bow ready bent in his hand, the eldest brother accosted him before he had set eyes upon them, saying, "We have come here to visit our sister, and have been told that she is quite white on one side of her head." The other answered him in a whisper, "Your sister is within; please go in." On entering he at once played the part of a brother-in-law to them, and ordered a meal to be prepared. The wife put on her boots, and told some of the children to assist her; and the guests soon understood that the only housemates of their sister were her children. The beams for boot-drying were hung all over with boots and skin-stockings, according to their several sizes, the biggest outermost. Sometime afterwards a large tub of berries mingled with blubber was set before them, and their sister asked them to partake of the meal. The brothers were almost beginning to feel at ease, and were just going to help themselves, when suddenly, in the bottom of the tub, they caught sight of a human hand, cut off at the wrist, clutching the berries, and very much shrunk. They merely said, "We don't eat such food as this;" but she only drew the tub closer to herself, and began to eat along with the children. When she took hold of the hand, and had taken a bite of the thumb, the children all cried, "Mother, do let us have some too!" The eldest brother now got up, and went close beside her, saying, "Hast thou also turned cannibal?" and giving her husband a pull, she answered, "This nasty fellow has made me one." Meanwhile the brother-in-law ordered something separate to be cooked for them on the lamp, but cautiously added, "Mind ye don't let it burn [p.131] too high, lest our neighbours should detect us, and make a row about it." Suspending the pot above the lamp, and at the same time addressing her brothers, his wife now put in, "When our people caught a whale last winter, and it was brought ashore to be cut up and flensed, a man happened to have a fall, and was cut up with it." Before the meal was ready the host whispered to his children, "Go out and cut asunder all the lashings of our neighbours' sledges, but beware of making a noise." The children all went out immediately, and when they came back he inquired of them, "Have ye done as I told ye to all of them?" "Yes," they answered, "we have." But still they had forgotten one of them. When the meat was boiled, and they had commenced eating, the host said, "As soon as ye have finished I shall accompany you a little way off; but as soon as ye have left the mainland I'll give a shout, and ye'll just see what will happen." On their departure, after supper, he addressed them, saying, "Ye now know our place of abode; do come back and visit your sister." Upon which he saw them off in their sledges, and away they fled; but as soon as they turned out upon the ice he gave a great shout, and cried out aloud, "The visitors are setting off—the visitors are going to leave!" and when they looked around, the place was black with people, crowding the doorways and windows. Some had just caught hold of their clothes, and others were quite naked, and in this state they all hastened off to their sledges; but when they were about to start, the sledges all broke down. Meanwhile the travellers had taken fright, and urged on their dogs as fast as possible; but turning round they perceived one sledge to be following them, and apparently gaining upon them. The brother-in-law having likewise observed it, hastened to pursue it, and killed the driver, besides a number of the other people, and afterwards filled his sledge with human limbs; and thus [p.132] freighted, he returned to his house. But the brothers reached home late at night, and reported how their sister had turned a cannibal, and how they had barely escaped death through the aid of their brother-in-law. But they never saw their sister again.

10. KUNUK THE ORPHAN BOY

[This tale seems to have its origin in historical facts, worked into a tale at a later period. Some parts of it allude to the struggles with the Indians, and the sudden attacks made by them on the Eskimo. Others most probably refer to the wars between the Eskimo tribes themselves, and to their distant migrations, by which they have peopled their wide territories. Several passages of this story are still frequently mixed up in different ways with other tales. The text has been constructed from three copies, in most particulars agreeing with each other.]

SEVERAL men had their permanent winter-quarters near the entrance to a fiord, and with them lived two boys, who were very officious and obliging. In the morning, when the men prepared to go out hunting, the boys helped to turn and rub their gloves, and made them ready for use, and likewise arranged the kayak implements and tools, and fetched the water for their morning drink. When the men had left, the boys exercised themselves in archery, and never entered the house the whole day long, until the men had returned, and they had assisted them in carrying their things from the beach. They did not even think of entering and partaking of their first meal till the last of the men had gone in, and they had once more fetched water. One evening in winter, by moonlight, when they had [p.133] gone out to draw water, the youngest said, "I think I see a lot of faces down in the water;" and Kunuk, the elder brother, replied, "Is it not the reflection of the moon?" "No, come and look for thyself;" and Kunuk looked into the water, and said, "Thou art right, they are getting at us;" and presently he observed in the water (viz., by way of clairvoyance) a host of armed men advancing towards them. The boys now ran as fast as possible and told everything to the people at home, but they only answered, "It must have been the moon that deceived you. Never mind, but run away and fetch us some water; the tub is empty." Off they went, but saw the same things over again, and went back to report it; but still they were not believed. But when they saw the armed men the third time advancing quickly towards them, they deliberated what to do with their little sister; and when they had determined to go and hide her, they entered the house and brought her outside; and seeing a heap of chips close to the window, they put her down, and covered her well up with them. Having done this, they went back and climbed the rafters beneath the roof of the house-passage; and in helping his brother to get up, Kunuk warned him not to get tired though he might find it an inconvenient place of refuge: they were keeping hold of one beam with their hands, and supported their feet against the next, and thus lay at full length, with their faces turned downwards. Presently a large man with a spear made his way through the entrance; after him another one appeared; and all told, they counted seven, who came rushing into the house. But as soon as they got inside a fearful cry was heard from those who were put to death by them. While they were still lingering inside Kunuk's brother was losing strength, and was nearly giving way, when the aggressors came storming out, fighting about, right and left, and flinging their spears everywhere, and likewise into the heap of chips, where [p.134] their little sister was lying. When the last of them had disappeared the younger boy fell to the ground, and Kunuk after him. When they came to look for their sister they found her struck right through the body with a lance, and with her entrails protruding; and on entering the house the floor was all covered with blood, every one of the inmates having been killed, besides one of the assailants. Being quite alone in the dreary house they would not stay, but left the place that very night, carrying their wounded sister by turns, and taking care that the entrails did not come out of their proper place. They wandered on for a long while in this manner, and at length they arrived at a firth, which was quite frozen over. There they went down on the ice, but on turning round a steep promontory their little sister died, and they buried her in a cave among the rocks. From the beginning of their flight they exercised themselves in boxing and in lifting large stones to strengthen their limbs; and they grew on, and had become strong and vigorous men ere they again met with other people. After a great lapse of time they one day noticed a man standing on the ice beside a huge piece of wood, which he [p.135] had made use of in hunting the small seals. When they approached and told him what had befallen them, he said he would like to adopt them as his sons, and they followed him to a house where he and his wife lived all by themselves. Their foster-parents encouraged them never to forget their enemies, but always to be exercising themselves in order to strengthen their limbs. One night the brothers came home laden with ptarmigan and foxes, which they had caught without any weapons at all, only by throwing large stones at them, which made the old people rejoice very much, commending their dexterity and perseverance. To increase their strength still farther, they lifted very large stones with their hands only. They also practised boxing and wrestling; and no matter how hard the one might be pressing on the other, they made a point of never falling, but rolling together along the ground. At last, with constant practice, they had grown so dexterous that they could even kill a bear without any weapon. At first they gave him a blow, and when he turned upon them they took no more notice of him than if he had been a hare, but merely took hold of him by the legs and smashed him to pieces. When these results had been gained, they began to think of seeking out other people. Where? That was a matter of indifference. They now took a northerly direction, and wandered on a long way without falling in with any human being. At length they came to a great inlet of the sea, where a number of kayakers were out seal-hunting, but only one of them seemed to be provided with weapons. This one was their chief, or the "strong man" among them. He always wanted to harpoon the animals himself which had been hunted by the others—these had only to chase and frighten them; and if anybody dared to wound them, he was sure to be punished by the chief in person; but as soon as the "strong man" had pierced them with his arrow, the others all helped to kill them. Kunuk and [p.136] his brother were too modest to go down at once, and awaited the approach of evening. Meanwhile they witnessed the cutting up of a walrus, and saw it being divided—each person getting a huge piece for himself, excepting an old man, who lived in the poorest tent, who got nothing but the entrails, which his two daughters helped him to carry home from the beach. The brothers agreed that they would go to the old man when it had grown dark, because they had taken pity on him on account of his patience. Having arrived at the tent, Kunuk had to enter by himself, his brother being too bashful to follow him. The old man now inquired of him, "Art thou alone?" "No, my little brother is standing outside; he is ashamed to enter." On hearing this, the old man cried, "Come in, thou who art standing outside;" and when he entered, he was astonished to see his strong limbs, he being even bigger than his brother. When the meal was over the old man said he would like to have them for his sons-in-law, and that they might go and take his daughters for their wives. Kunuk chose the youngest of them, and his brother got the eldest; and thus they got married. It is said that while going down to the place, they first went to have a look at the boats, and examined them closely; and that on seeing the weapons of the "strong man," they had taken his javelin (or arrow to be flung only by hand) away, with the intention of hiding it, so that the others might get something to look for. They brought it away to a spring, and a little way off they stuck it down into the earth, but pulled it out again, trying another place, where the turf was dry and hard. There Kunuk fixed it so deep in the ground that only so much of it as could be seized with two fingers was to be seen. While they were lying down inside the tent, they heard some one come running along, and partly lift the curtain, but instantly drop it and go off again. It was an old gossip, and mother to the "strong man," who had [p.137] been doing this; and a moment later a multitude of people gathered round the entrance of the tent, to get a peep at the strangers. In the morning they heard the chief crying out, "This is a fine day for a walrus-hunt;" upon which he was silent a while, and then said, "My javelin has been taken away," which was repeated again and again by many others. When Kunuk emerged from the tent he saw several of the men coming out rubbing their eyes, and saying, "I must surely have slept too long!" However, it was only out of reverence for the "strong man" that they spoke thus. While they were shouting, they heard the old gossip, who had been away to fetch water, exclaim, "Look, yonder is the javelin!" and at the same time she pointed to the rock leading to the spring. All of them now rushed to the spot, in order to pull it out of the earth, but nobody succeeded in doing it. The brothers were now called, and were asked to draw it out. They had all been pulling and biting it with their teeth to get it loose, so that the end had been quite wasted. But Kunuk just took it between his two fingers, and disengaged it as if it were a very small matter. On their way down to the shore their father-in-law addressed them, and said, "Down there, underneath the great boat, are the two kayaks of my dead son. They are perfectly fitted up, and furnished with weapons, and are quite easy to get at." These things he now wanted to make over to his sons-in-law, and he told them that the "strong man" had murdered his son because he envied him his still greater strength; for this reason he was now the enemy of his daughters. Hitherto, however, they had not been able to get their revenge. After a short interval the cry was heard, "Let the strangers come on for a boxing and fighting match on the great plain up yonder;" upon which all the men made thither to behold the spectacle. The brothers followed them; and arriving at the place, they saw a pole set up on end, and beside it the leader standing with a [p.138] whip made of walrus-skin, with a knot on the end. There was also a stuffed white hare, and whenever anybody set foot on it, he quickly lashed them with the whip. Kunuk was the first who advanced towards the hare, and the chief tried to hit him, but did not succeed in reaching him. Soon after, Kunuk courageously put his foot on the hare; but the very moment the "strong man" lifted up his whip Kunuk stooped down and hardened his limbs (by charm), and when the other smote him the whip gave a loud crack. The "strong man" now believed that he had killed Kunuk, who nevertheless came away unhurt. When the crack of the thong was heard, the "strong man" ordered the younger brother to step forward. He, however, cared less than Kunuk: and after the first attempt the chief proposed that he should take the whip for a change; and giving it to him, he went himself and put his foot on the hare. Kunuk's brother now cried, "Look out and harden thy body!" but at the same time smote him, so that he [p.139] fell down dead on the spot. All his inferiors now rejoiced greatly, and called out to the brothers, "Henceforth ye shall be our leaders!" but they rejoined, "In future ye shall have no masters, but hunt at liberty and at your own will." The brothers now practised all manner of feats belonging to kayaking and seal-hunting, and procured themselves bladder-arrows¹⁹—the bladders being made out of one entire blown-up seal-skin. One day they joined some other kayakers, and went in pursuit of a very large she-walrus. Kunuk lanced it four times at a greater distance than usual, and his arrow went right through the animal, which, panting for breath, after a minute or two was quite dead. When the others came on to give it the finishing stroke, they found that the arrow had penetrated to the very vent-holes of the bladder; and they all rejoiced at his great dexterity, and praised it highly. Ordinary seals even grew quite stiff when his spear merely grazed them. He once heard a report of a very giant, who lived southward, and was named Ungilagtake.²⁰ He had a huge sword, and nobody was ever known to escape him; even the most valiant of men were vanquished and put to death by him. On hearing this, the brothers immediately supposed him to have been among the strong armed men who attacked their housemates at home, when they themselves were still little children; and they at once determined to go and find him out, knowing that they were now more capable of revenging themselves than they had been at that time. They left the place in two boats, one of which belonged to the youngest; in this the mother of the "strong man" who had been killed accompanied him. The other boat was Kunuk's, and many kayaks went along with them to make war against Ungilagtake. A pretty strong breeze from [p.140] the north had sprung up, and the boats hoisted their sails, and the kayak-men amused themselves with throwing their harpoons alongside the boats. It so happened that Kunuk, in flinging the harpoon, hit the prow of the boat, so that it rebounded into the water with a great splash. On seeing this, the old hag chuckled, and went on mocking and teasing the wife of Kunuk till she could not help crying; and Kunuk asked his brother, who was in command of the boat, "Why is my wife crying?" "Oh, that's on account of the arrow," he answered; "she is so mortified because the old woman laughed at thee." Kunuk now purposely dropped astern a little, and holding his harpoon ready, suddenly pushed forward, and flung it across the boat, so that it hit the hood of the old woman's fur coat, while she sat rowing in the fore-end of the boat, even tearing a piece out of it; and this trick he repeated once more. After a while, Kunuk's brother turned his looks towards land, and recognised the burial-place of their little sister. This made him very sad, and he asked for some one to relieve him at the helm, he wanting to go and sit down forward, where, bent down, he went on sobbing, and vainly striving to keep back his tears, while the water from the sea came into the boat, which kept swinging and tossing from his convulsions. He took ill from that very day, and died before they reached their destination, so that Kunuk came alone to Ungilagtake. It was in the depth of winter, and they were met by many people on the ice. A somewhat biggish man invited them to come and put up at his house. This man likewise happened to be an enemy of Ungilagtake; and as soon as the guests had entered, he told them that before the meal he would show them how Ungilagtake used to behave to strangers. He took an entire seal-skin, stuffed with sand, and to the centre of which a strap was attached. Into this he put his third finger, and carried it round the room, after which he ordered his guest to do the same. Kunuk [p.141] took hold of the strap with his little finger, lifted the thing with unbent arm, and put it down without being fatigued. The host then went on, "Now sit down opposite to me, and I will throw a lance at thee, which, however, won't hurt thee;" upon which he brought out a lance and a drum, and began singing, while Kunuk heard the others saying, "Bend thee down, stranger!" Kunuk at once complied, so that nothing but his chin was visible; and when his host threw the lance at him, he lost his aim, merely observing, "This is the way of Ungilagtake, who always hits the mark, and never fails. Yet I don't know how thou wilt fare with him; he will hardly be able to molest thee. But then he has a companion, called Tajangiarsuk, with a double back, being as fat in front as behind, who is immensely strong, and gives him a hand if there happen to be any one he cannot master." Whilst they were sitting down at the meal a cry was heard without, "Ungilagtake invites the stranger to his house!" When Kunuk and his wife were preparing to go, the host said, "Now make a bold entrance, or he will be sure to kill thee at once." The visitors now went up to a large house with three windows, which was occupied with Ungilagtake's numerous wives—all of whom he had stolen. Kunuk was ordered to sit down on the side bench, but his wife was brought to a seat on the main ledge, and their former host placed himself opposite her husband. Many other spectators now entered; but whenever a new visitor made his appearance, Kunuk asked his first host if that were Tajangiarsuk, until at last he too arrived. Refreshments, consisting of various dishes, were now served before them; and when they had finished eating, Ungilagtake ordered Kunuk to seat himself opposite to him, and presently drew out a huge spear from beneath the bench, and striking upon the drum, which had likewise been produced, the whole joined in a song for Kunuk, at the same time crying out, "Bend thee down, stranger that [p.142] has come among us; the great Ungilagtake, who never missed his aim, is going to thrust his spear at thee." He bent down as before, so that only his chin appeared; but whilst Ungilagtake was taking aim at him, he nimbly gave a jump, and caught hold of one of the roof-beams, while the spear went far below him; and when it was flung at him the second time, he quickly jumped down, and the spear came flying above him, amid great cheers from the spectators. When Ungilagtake was about to take aim the third time, Kunuk seized the spear, saying that he, too, would like to have a try at killing with it. They now exchanged places. Kunuk, beating the drum, now struck up a song for Ungilaktake; but the very moment the latter was preparing to bend his back, Kunuk had already taken aim at him, and the spear hit him in the throat, so that he fell dead on the spot. Everybody now rushed out of the house, and Kunuk was following, but soon found himself seized from behind by some one, who proved to be Tajangiarsuk. A wrestling-match soon ensued on a plain of ice, covered with many projecting stones, which he had chosen on purpose, in order to finish off his adversaries by dashing them against the stones. Kunuk felt a little irresolute when he noticed that he had found his equal. However, he took hold of him, and tried to lift him up before he got tired out. He flung him down on the ground, so that the blood gushed out of his mouth. Another champion soon made his appearance, who was of a still stronger and larger make; and he soon got Kunuk down, and had already put his knee on the heart of Kunuk, when the latter suddenly took hold of him from beneath, grasped his shoulders, and pressed the lungs out of him. The applause of the spectators was again heard, while some of them were crying, "Now they are bringing the last of the lot, him with the lame legs;" and soon after three boats were seen to carry this champion thither, for he was not like ordinary men, but [p.143] of an immense size, so that he was obliged to lie across all three boats to get along. Having reached the landing-place, he crept up to the combat-field on his elbows. When Kunuk tried to throw him, his legs never moved an inch; but when he proceeded to lift him up by taking hold of him round the waist, and began to whirl him round, he gradually succeeded in lifting also his feet; and when they at last turned right outwards, to let him fall in such a way that his skull was crushed. The people rejoiced, and cried, "Thanks to thee! now we shall have no masters!" and those who had been robbed of their wives got them back again.

11. THE FAITHLESS WIFE

[This and the next tale, with a third one about "the dog's offspring," which has been omitted in this translation, are taken from five manuscripts, one of which was written down in Labrador, the others in different parts of Greenland. In these some parts of the stones were intermixed in various ways, but still they seem originally to have represented the three separate stories, of which two are here given.]

A MAN who was living alone with his wife noticed that she often left the place without his knowing where she went. On his return from his day-work, he seldom found her at home. This made him suspicious; and one morning he feigned to be going far away, but when he went out in his kayak he only paddled to the nearest point, and went on shore again and hid himself behind some rocks. After a little his wife emerged from the tent in her best attire. He now stole up behind her, and followed her till she reached a lake; there he observed her throw off something into the water, upon [p.144] which a masculine being appeared, and she undressing, went out to him in the water. At this sight the husband got into a great rage, and set about gathering all kinds of vermin; and one day when he was quite alone with his wife he stuffed them into her, and in this manner killed her. From that time he was all alone, but did not wish to go out in his kayak minding his usual business. One day, on his returning to his lonely tent, he was very much surprised to find his supper cooked, and the smoking meat served up. The next day the same thing happened again; the meat smoking hot was served up on his dish, and his boots were dried and ready to put on:²¹ and all this was repeated every day. One day he only paddled a little way off the coast, and then went on shore to hide in a place, whence he could keep a look-out on his tent; and he soon observed a little woman, with her hair dressed up in a very large tuft, come down the hill and enter his tent. He now quickly made for his kayak, paddled home, and went creeping up to his house. Having softly lifted the door-curtain, he noticed a strong unpleasant smell, and saw the little woman busily trimming his lamp. She was really a fox transformed into the shape of a woman, and this accounted for the strong smell. Nevertheless, he took her for his wife. One day he met his cousin out at sea, and told him about his new wife, praising her loveliness, and next asked him to come and see her, "But," added he, "if thou shouldst happen to notice a rank smell about her, be sure not to make any remarks about it." The cousin followed him at once, and having landed together they both entered the tent. But when the visitor observed how nice and pleasant the wife of his cousin was, [p.145] he grew quite jealous; and in order to make mischief exclaimed, "Whence comes this nasty smell?" Instantly the little woman rose to her feet: she had now got a tail, wherewith she extinguished the lamp, and like a fox cried, "Ka, ka, ka!" ²² and ran out of the tent. The husband followed her quickly; but when he again caught sight of her she was transformed into a fox, running up hill as fast as possible. He pursued her, and at last she vanished into a cave. It is told that while he stood outside calling for her, she first sent him a beetle, and then a spider, and at last a caterpillar. He then grew quite enraged, heaped some fuel together at the entrance, and burned her alive; and once more he was quite alone, and at last killed himself in a fit of madness.

12. THE MAN WHO MATED HIMSELF WITH A SEA-FOWL

AN old bachelor used to amuse himself by playing with skulls of seals, and feigning them to be his children. When he went out kayaking he put them down on the beach, and having placed himself in his kayak, he would say to them, "Now mind ye be good children, and go straight up to the house!" and on still finding them in the same place on his return, he would cry out, "Ye seem to be all deaf and dumb; did not I [p.146] tell ye to keep off from the water before I set off?" Then taking hold of one of the heads, he threw it into the sea, "Look, there's your little brother fallen into the water!" Another time, feeling himself very sad and lonely, he went running far away into the country, and happened to fall in with a great many women bathing in a lake. At this sight an idea seized him, and noiselessly he stole away to the place where they had put their clothes, securing those belonging to the one he thought the prettiest, and then stepped boldly forward. When the women saw him they hastened back to their clothes, and having put them on, they immediately changed into birds and flew away. Only she who had been robbed of her clothes remained behind; and the bachelor went straight up to her, asking her, "Would she like to be his wife?" and in return she said, "Yes, thou mayst take me if thou likest, only give me my clothes." She then got them, but he kept hold of her, lest she, too, should fly. When she had dressed herself he took her home and married her. The next morning he did not venture to go out in his kayak, for fear she might take flight; and thus it happened that he gave up kayaking altogether, until one day she declared, "Now thou mayst leave me without fear, for I do really love thee, and thou mayst depend upon me;" and then he again began to go out seal-hunting. At length she begat a son, and when he grew up, another son was born; but afterwards they got no more children. When the children grew on, the mother sometimes took them out walking; and on the way she would admonish them to gather bird wings and feathers, saying, "Children, ye are akin to birds." On a certain day she fastened a pair of these wings upon one of the boys, who was at once changed into a sea-fowl, and flew away. She did the same thing to his brother; and last of all she herself put on wings and followed them in the shape of a sea-fowl. When the old husband came home he found neither [p.147] wife nor children, at which he grew very sad. However, he did not cease to go out in his kayak, although he no more chased seals. One day he put in close to a sand-hill, and leaving his kayak on the beach, he crossed the hill, and went a good way into the country. Looking round, he saw a man with his back turned towards him, working away at a piece of timber with his axe. On approaching him, he observed that the lower parts of his body visibly trembled. The man now asked him, "From what side art thou drawing nigh?" and the old man answered, "I am coming against thee;" to which the other remarked, "If thou hadst come from behind, I should have killed thee on the spot." The old man now addressed him, saying, "Thou shalt have my new kayak if thou wilt inform me whether thou hast seen three persons?" but the other one answered, "I don't care for thy new kayak, and I have not seen the three persons thou speakest of." The old man again said to him, "I see thou art working in wood, and I will give thee my new axe; only let me know whether thou hast not seen three persons?" "Well, my axe is rather worn. Go and sit down on the tail of a salmon in yonder river; but when thou hearest the voices of children, mind thou don't open thine eyes!" The old man obeyed, and sat down on the tail of a salmon, shutting his eyes the while. On hearing a rushing sound he opened his eyes a little, and noticing that he was carried along by a rapid current, he shut them again, and all was silent. He again heard the noise of children crying, "Alas, our father is nigh!" and the mother answering them, "Lo, we left your father without any means of conveying him hither." The children, however, repeated, "Our father is coming." The father now got on shore, and went to a house with fine windows to it; he observed that the inmates were all women. Close to the back wall his wife was sitting, and opposite her a man with a pug-nose, constantly repeating, "Wilt thou not marry me?" But [p.148] the woman answered; "No, I have already got another husband." All the rest now left the house, and only those two remained. At last, when the fellow with the pug-nose had left also, the old man made an attempt to take his wife back; but she quickly followed the other out, and while he pursued her she was transformed into a gull, as were also the rest of the women. The pug-nosed man was changed into a wild-duck; and when the discarded husband turned round, he saw that the house had been transformed into a gulls-hill.²³

13. THE BARREN WIFE

[This very popular tale has been collated from three copies agreeing in all essential particulars.]

A MAN had a wife who begat him no children. The husband, who was envious of all the people who had children, one day told her to make herself trim and nice, and walk on to a certain spot where an old man, who had given up seal-hunting, had his fishing-place. This old man, however, was a great magician. The next day, while he sat fishing in his kayak, a little way off the shore, she appeared on the beach dressed in her best. But as the old man, afraid of her husband, would not approach her, she soon returned. The husband himself now went to the old man, and promised him half of his [p.149] "catch" if he could think of some means whereby to get children. When the wife appeared on the beach the next day, the old man instantly made for the shore, and went up to her. From this day forwards the husband always put by half of the seals he caught for the old man: and when he noticed that his wife was enceinte, he asked the old man to take up his abode in their house; upon which he rejoined, "Thy wife will bear thee a son. To-morrow when thou goest out kayaking thou must row to the birds-cliff and get hold of a bird,²⁴ which he shall use for an amulet." On the following day, when the husband had brought the bird, the old man went on, "Farther, thou must fetch a hollow stone, of a black colour, on which the sun has never shone;" and when he had also brought this, the old man said, "Finally, thou must go to thy grandmother's grave and bring home her collar-bone." When all these things had been gathered, the wife brought forth a son, who was named Kujavarsuk by the old man, and the stone was put close to his feet, but the bird was stuck up above the window. The old man now told the father to provide a kayak for the boy as soon as he should be able to make use of it, and have it ready fitted up with utensils and all other requisites for the hunt. When the boy grew up, the father made the kayak; and even before the skins with which it had been covered had time to dry, it was put in the water, and the boy being placed in it, they shoved it off the beach. The old man told what would happen to him, saying, "The very first time he goes out, one of the 'quiet' seals will rise to the surface, and he shall not return home till he has captured ten of them; and in future he will always get ten seals whenever he goes out kayaking. The old man and the father now followed him closely, but as soon as they left him at a little distance a seal popped its head above the water, and he paddled on and harpooned it, at which [p.150] the old man was quite transported; and from this time the boy began to hunt. When he was grown up he took two wives; and he became of great use to his house-fellows and neighbours. In times of need he was their only provider. One winter the sea was frozen over very early, and ere long there was only one opening in the ice left, right in front of their dwelling-place; out of this he every day got his ten seals. Later on the cleft became so narrow that his kayak touched the edge of the ice with both ends, and at last it altogether closed up. The whole sea was now covered with ice; great perplexity came over the people, and they deliberated whether it would not be necessary to call in an angakok. One person mentioned that in the summer-time he had seen the widow Igdlutsialik's daughter practising the angakok art in a lake. Kujavarsuk at once sent off a messenger to let her know that he would give her a large seal-skin in return if she would make the ice break up. However, she declined to do so. They next tried to get her to return by offering her different things, such as clothes and lamps; but still she refused. Then some one brought her a handful of beads, which happened to take her fancy; and she said to her mother, "Bring my summer dress." When she had put it on, she walked down to the water-side and disappeared among the loose ice-blocks scattered all along the sea-shore. Shortly afterwards the spectators heard a splash, and she was seen no more. She now remained in the depths of the ocean for three days, and at the bottom of the sea she had a struggle with the old woman (viz., the arnarkuagssâĸ of the Eskimo mythology), to make her let loose the animals of the sea, which she purposely detained, and kept swimming about underneath her lamp; and when at length she had managed to conciliate her, she again returned to the earth. On the evening of the third day she reappeared among the ice-blocks on the beach, and let the people know that she wanted every other seal that [p.151] was caught, for herself, of those with the most beautiful skin, as well as of the common fiord seals. As yet, however, the sea was all covered with ice. But on the following morning, at dawn, the ice broke up, and an opening appeared near the houses; and after a while it had become so wide that the men could put down their kayaks. Each of them soon caught two seals, but Kujavarsuk as usual got ten, which made the others very jealous. It now happened one day that his wives had only put by a piece of the back instead of the briskets for his mother's brother, who was expected to come home later in the evening. He was offended at this want of consideration on their part, and resolved to make (by help of sorcery) a tupilak for Kujavarsuk. To this end he gathered bones of all sorts of animals, out of which he fashioned it in such manner that it could take the shape of different animals, of birds as well as of seals; and having stirred them into life, he let it loose, and ordered it to persecute Kujavarsuk. First it dived down into the sea, and again appeared to him in the shape of a seal; but he was then already on his way home, and when it approached him he was in the very act of drawing his kayak on the shore. The same thing happened on the second and the third day. The tupilak now determined to pursue him to his house, and then frighten him to death. It transformed itself into a toogdlik, ²⁵ and commenced shrieking outside the house. Kujavarsuk went out; but as he could not be brought to look at it, the charm would not work. It then resolved to go underground, and pop up into the room. However, it succeeded no better this time, but rose at the back of the house; and just as it was about to climb up the roof, it met his own amulet-bird, which at once set about picking and scratching its face. It now, however, turned desperate, and thought, "Why did this miserable fool [p.152] of a man ever make me!" and in the height of its wrath it turned against its maker. Diving down into the water near his fishing-place, it emerged right beneath his kayak, and fairly upsetting it, devoured him on the spot. It now fled far away from the habitations of man, out on the roaring ocean. Kujavarsuk afterwards remained unmolested, and died at a very old age.
 

[There are other tales of Kujavarsuk among the Greenlanders. The following may be taken as a sample of the whole.]

When Kujavarsuk had grown a man he travelled to a place in the north, where he had had a namesake who died from starvation. The people of those parts followed the pursuit of whale-fishery, and here Kujavarsuk made friends with a youth. Those two were always trying to outdo each other, but Kujavarsuk was more than a match for him. In the beginning of winter they were to try who could detect the first whale. Kujavarsuk had never seen any animal of this kind before. He had by this time taken up his abode with an old man, who said to him, "When a whale is near at hand, it cannot be mistaken; its breathing is at once roaring and hissing." And Kujavarsuk was always on the alert to catch sight of them. One fine morning, when it was quite calm, the old man said, "If the whales are going to be early this year, they'll turn up on a day like this." Kujavarsuk remained out in his kayak all day, listening for the signal, but could not perceive any such sound at all. In the evening he returned after a fair hunt, and tried to go to sleep, but was not able. About midnight he rose, and stepping out he heard a sound of heavy breathing from the sea coming closer to him, and stopping at the mouth of the bay; and on entering he said, "I wonder what sound it was I heard just now." The old man walked out, and returned, saying, [p.153] "Why, that's just the whale blowing; he did not miss his day." Kujavarsuk now went to rest, and slept soundly. But early in the morning his young friend was heard calling without, "Kujavarsuk, the whale is blowing! thou art too late!" But the old man made answer, "Thou art mistaken, he knew it yesterday, and has just gone to sleep." Soon after, the friend said, "Now let us see which of us is the best hand at making bladders for our whale-catching." And next day they went out together to procure seals for this purpose. Close to land Kujavarsuk got two spotted ones, but his friend got none at all. As the weather continued fine, and more whales appeared, the boats were sent out on the watch. At first Kujavarsuk concluded he was not to be of the party because he had no women to row his boat, but on seeing all the hunters set off along with their housemates, women and all, he, too, felt a strong desire to go; and getting hold of some children, he manned his boat with them, and left shore. The other boats, meantime, had stood farther out to sea, and the people shouted to him, "If thou art on the look-out for the whale thou must come out to us; he'll never rise where thou art now." But he did not mind them, and stayed where he was, his mother having said, "I conceived thee on the sea-shore, and for this reason thou shalt watch thy chance near it." In a little while a whale appeared close by; he at once pursued and harpooned it, and the beast could not even draw his bladder under the water. Again the others cried, "If thou wilt not lose it thou must pursue it more seawards." But he only replied, "All the animals of the sea that I am going to pursue will seek towards shore, close to my dwelling-place." And thus he was left alone to kill it all by himself. Whether he got any more than this one is not known; but perhaps he even got his ten of them. When spring came on he returned to his former [p.154] home, where he still found the old fisherman alive, and to him he presented all the whalebone; the longest and best splits having been all reserved for him.

14. THE TWO BROTHERS

[This tale is compiled from four manuscripts which differ somewhat.]

TWO brothers lived in the mouth of a fiord—the elder one on the sunny side, the other on the shady side of the inlet. One night the servant of the younger brother happening to go behind the house suddenly perceived something bright glittering out on the sea, and at the same time detected a boat that seemed to grow in size as it approached; on looking sharply she was horrified at recognising it to be an umiariak (or supernatural boat manned with fabulous beings). She wanted to run, but was not able to stir; she tried to call out, but found that she could not utter a sound, and so she must needs keep quiet. The next thing she saw was a number of people landing, all carrying glittering swords, and walking straight up to the tent, and sticking their spears through it from all sides. Loud cries were heard from within, and the foreigners rushed down to their boat. She saw the water foaming, and a multitude of seals moving out seawards. She was not able to rise till they were quite out of sight; then she got up and went to the tent, where she found all the inmates killed, and the earth covered with blood. Although it was still dark, she could not possibly wait, but set off at once, and wandered ever so far round the whole [p.155] bay to reach the opposite shore, where the other brother lived, and having reached his tent she told him what had taken place, and that all her housemates had been put to death. But somehow he got suspicious, and believed that she herself had killed them. Seeing this, she merely said, "First go and look for thyself, and afterward thou mayst kill me if thou likest." He now went across to his brother's station, and when he had seen the tent pierced from all sides he was reassured with regard to the servant, and only thought of finding out the enemies. He bespoke an angakok to come and see him, that he might point them out to him. At night, when the angakok had arrived, the lamps were extinguished, and he spoke, "Look there; far away in the interior of the land, I espy them." When he could no longer descry them he again had the lamps lighted. On the following day the surviving brother paddled up to the fiord head, left his kayak on the beach, and walked, only armed with his spear, to the interior. After a long ramble he at length discovered a house, and stealing to the window he peeped through it, and beheld a man with only one eye sitting down, and busily carving some implement out of wood. On turning round, the man caught sight of the stranger, and at once invited him to come in. Having entered the house, he went and sat down beside the man with one eye, who, however, motioned him off a little, saying, "Don't sit quite so close to me; I might happen to cut thee." When the guest had complied, and moved farther away, he went on, saying, "Let refreshment be brought in for the stranger." A loud peal of laughter was then heard, and from beneath the ledge emerged a lot of narrayoot (plural of nârrâjôk, big-bellied), these being the only womankind of his household. They went out, returning soon afterwards with great quantities of meat, chiefly reindeer flesh and tallow. The host now said to him, "To-morrow I will go with thee and help thee to find out thy [p.156] enemies, but now thou must lie down to rest here; thou hast nothing to fear." On the following day the one-eyed man prepared to follow him, taking with him a large bunch of arrows, fitted up in a skin cover. Having advanced somewhat into the country, he walked so quickly that his companion could hardly keep up with him. At length he stopped, and putting his arrows on the ground, he said, "Turn thy face towards the interior and give a shout." Without knowing the reason why, he turned his face towards the interior part of the country, and cried out aloud, upon which three large bears instantly appeared. The one-eyed man aimed his bow at them and killed them all. Again he said, "Turn round and call as before!" This done, a multitude of people appeared, armed with bows and arrows. He was dreadfully frightened; but his companion, seeing this, said, "Go and hide behind me; but mind, as soon as thou puttest forth thy head they'll shoot thee." Having thus sheltered himself behind his protector, though all the time trembling with fear, he soon observed the arrows to be flying about him right and left; but after a while they decreased in number, and finally abated altogether. The enemies having discharged all their arrows had taken flight. The one-eyed man then took up his bow, and the still revengeful brother his spear, and both set off in pursuit of them, overtaking and killing the whole of them. On the way home the inlander noticed his companion's weapon, questioned him concerning it, as he had never seen the like before, and told him he would like very much to purchase it; and because of his handsome behaviour he had his wish. On their return they went together to his storehouse, and he was repaid with the renowned sea-hare skin, (viz., white reindeer skins with black streaks), and one of the little women was called to take them down. She put the bundle on her stomach, and ran so fast with it that the visitor could not keep pace with her. On his reaching [p.157] home, he found them put on the roof of his house, and from that time his mind was at rest.

NOTE.—This rather mystical tale is in Greenland related in different ways. It seems to have originated from some historical tradition mixed up with the common belief that when seals are chased and killed in too great numbers, the surviving ones will often avenge themselves in the shape of umiarissat (plural of umiariaĸ)—that is, armed people in a boat fashioned out of a solid piece of ice. In one of the versions the inlanders here mentioned are called erkileks, in another "the men who twinkle lengthwise," which closely reminds one of the Indians called Loucheux or Squint-eyes, who up to the present day are one of the tribes most hostile to the Eskimo, and described as being able to make themselves proof against the arrows of their enemies by means of a certain movement of their eyes.

15. GIVIOK

[This tale is chiefly taken from a single manuscript, but nevertheless it is well known all over Greenland. Some slight traces will be found in it of the Indian Hiawatha tale.]

GIVIOK (pron. Ghiviok),²⁶ it is told, lost his wife, and was about to leave his child and the place where she was buried, in despair. He only waited till the boy had gone to sleep, and then he let himself down from the ledge to the floor; but when the child began crying, he again lay down beside him. Once he was all ready, stooping down to get out of the entrance, but went back unable to leave his son. One day the little boy passionately entered the room, saying, "My mother is walking outside with a stranger." Giviok answered, [p.158] "Thy mother is not here; she is lying under the big stones yonder."²⁷ But the little boy persisted, saying, "Look for thyself, then;" and when Giviok did look out of the window, he actually saw his wife in the arms of another man. At this he got into a great rage, went out, killed them, and put them on top of each other into the stone grave. Father and son now went to rest: but when the boy slept the father carried out his intention of taking flight; and passing through the doorway, this time resisted the cries of the boy, got into his kayak, and hastened away. He paddled on and on across the wild sea; he came to the whirlpool, and was nearly drawn into it. Somehow, however, he escaped. Then he got among the villainous sea-lice. First he tried to keep them back by striking at them with his kayak-stick; but that was soon devoured. Then he threw out his sealskin gloves; and seeing that they lasted a little longer, he bethought himself of covering his paddle-blades with a pair of old gloves, lest the beasts should attack his paddle before he could slip away from them; and then he managed to get past them. Continuing his voyage, he saw a long black line, and on approaching it he noticed it to be sea-weed, which he found to be so compact that he got out; and lying down to rest, he went to sleep on it. When he awoke, he pushed himself and his kayak on with his hands, and in this manner got across the sea-weed. He continued paddling until he came in sight of two icebergs, with a narrow passage between them; and he observed that the passage alternately opened and closed again. He tried to pass the icebergs by paddling round outside them, but they always kept ahead of him; and at length he ventured to go right between them. With great speed and alacrity he pushed on, and had just passed when the bergs closed together, and the stern-point of his kayak got [p.159] bruised between them. At last he caught a glimpse of something dark, and soon after he reached a great stretch of land looming ahead of him. Giviok now thought, "If this country be inhabited, I will be sure to find a bare rock;"²⁸ and such a one he soon found. He shortly afterwards detected a house by the smoking chimney, and he soon concluded that they were busy cooking inside. He went straight on towards it, upset the funnel, and hid himself close by. Instantly a female came rushing out, saying, "I wonder if any one upset it?" upon which she again put it to rights; and meantime, perceiving Giviok, quickly re-entered the house, but as quickly returned, saying to him, "Thou art invited to step inside." On entering, he saw a hideous old hag lying beneath a coverlet, who ordered her daughter to go and fetch some berries; and, running out, she soon returned with a great quantity of them, profusely mixed up with fat. Giviok, while he was eating them, remarked, "They are really delicious;" and Usorsak (this was the name of the old hag) rejoined, "No wonder; the fat is of quite a young fellow;" but Giviok answered, "Fie! anything of that kind I cannot eat;" and stooping down, he noticed a lot of human heads all in a row beneath the ledge; and when the hag uncovered herself a little, and turned her back towards him, he saw something glittering close behind her. When they were all ready to go to rest, Giviok said, "I shall just go outside for an instant." Accordingly he went, and soon found a flat stone to cover his breast with; and re-entering, he lay down on the ledge beneath the window. No sooner did he seem to be sleeping, than he heard the daughter saying, "Now he is sound asleep;" and instantly the old hag came jumping down from her place on the main ledge; but on his feigning not to be quite asleep, she cautiously returned. When he again had become quiet, and lying on his back [p.160] was exposing his breast, the daughter again said, "He surely sleeps now;" and again the mother let herself down, even quicker than the first time, and jumping up where he was lying, she sat down with all her weight upon his chest, crying out, "Oh dear!" but instantly tumbled down. "What a pity!" cried the daughter; "Usorsak has broken her tail; she provided so nicely for all of us" (viz., killing men by help of her tail). Giviok now got up from his couch, let fall the stone, and escaped through the door, the daughter shouting after him, "Thou rascal! wouldn't I like to have had a taste of thy fine cheeks!" but he was already in his kayak, where he was nearly upset. Rising again, he broke out, "Shouldn't I like to harpoon her!" and so saying, he killed her on the spot. He now continued his journey; and after a while again reached a bare rock. At a little distance from it he landed; and, as before, went up to a house where he likewise upset the chimney-funnel, and afterwards hid himself. A woman again emerged from the doorway; and when she re-entered, he heard them wondering at the chimney having been upset, as there had not been any wind. When she again made her appearance, Giviok came forth, and was asked to come inside. Crossing the threshold, he observed that the walls were covered all over with hunting-bladders. Here, also, the inmates consisted of a mother and a daughter. The mother now spoke—"It will soon be low-water; it is a bad job for us that we have no one to haul in our draught when we have harpooned and fixed the bladders to the fishes." Giviok answered—"I have my kayak close by, and have just come from the bad women yonder, both of whom I have killed." "Then thanks to thee!" they exclaimed. "We, too, have had men in our house, but these monsters put all of them to death; but now thou hadst better stay here with us." Giviok at once consenting, they went on saying, "To-morrow we shall have low-water, and [p.161] when thou hearest a roaring noise, thou must hasten back; then the high tide sets in, and thou must be back on shore." They then went to sleep. Giviok was sound asleep when he was awakened by the roaring waters, and saw the daughter glide through the house-passage. He hastened down to the shore; but when he arrived, the women had already caught a number of halibut, which were lying high and dry on the beach. He was only in time to finish off a few when the sound of the rising waters was again heard, and the great waves came rolling over him, so that he had a narrow escape to the coast. The harpooned fish, on account of the bladders, kept floating on the surface, but drove across to the opposite shore. Giviok, however, fetched them back in his kayak, for which the women were very thankful to him; and he remained with them for some time. After a while, the memory of his son haunted him, and he said to himself, "My poor little son! what a pitiful thing it was to hear him cry when I went away! Some day I must go and see him." So he left the place, and travelled on and on, encountering all the dangers he had met with on his departure from home, but once more happily getting past them. At last he reached the opposite country, and he heard people singing. He followed the song, and fell in with a great many boats tugging a whale along, on which stood a vigorous man. He did not recognise him; but this was his son, and he had been catching the whale. The father left him a weeping child, and now beheld him a great hunter, standing on a whale's back.

[p.162]

16. TIGGAK

[This is an abstract from three somewhat varying copies received from Greenland. In one of the Labrador legends traces of the same tale appear.]

TIGGAK was a famous angakok and sorcerer. He married a girl who had a number of brothers, and after this he grew neglectful of his duties, and gave up hunting. When the brothers-in-law left home in the morning, they could not persuade him to follow them; sometimes he even slept till the first of the kayakers returned, and then did nothing but keep his wife company, and dawdle the time away till bedtime came round again. This offended the other men, and they let him understand that they were vexed with him. One evening, when one of the brothers had ordered some boiled briskets, he said to Tiggak when they were served up, "Do eat some meat—that is easy work." Tiggak took a considerable quantity, and did not pay any attention to the brother-in-law's remarks, but ate away without giving any answer. In the midst of winter, they were one evening awakened by the noise of the wind. A gale from the north set in. The brothers left off hunting, and lived solely upon their stored-up provisions; but at last these were brought to an end. One day, when they could not even go out in the kayak, Tiggak was missing. Towards evening they looked about for him, and there was a terrible snow-drift. Late at night they heard a call, and they saw him approaching, and dragging two seals along with him. From that time he rose in their estimation, and was now highly thought of among them. He now had the briskets served up, and addressed the brothers, saying, [p.163] "Now come and fall to; the meat is boiled and served up, and eating it is easy work." They all ate, but nobody spoke. Next day the same scene was repeated; and all the winter he continued providing for the others: but in the summer he left off, and let his brothers-in-law undertake this task themselves. Subsequently Tiggak adopted a boy as his son. Once more it was winter, and the sea was covered with ice as far as the eye could see. Tiggak was the only one to roam about upon the ice, looking out for the haze and seeking open holes in the ice, indicating the places to which the sea animals resort in order to breathe. Far off, beyond the outermost islets, he went away for seals. One day the sky was cloudless and the wind down. He had resolved to go out on the ice with the brothers, and he turned to his adopted son saying, "To-day thou mayst come with us and try thy hand at seal-catching." On gaining the remotest islets, Tiggak made an opening in the ice to examine the state of the waters beneath. When he had done he said, "I believe it will come to pass; the sea-weed seems to be drifting landwards: just look." The brothers then saw that the current, setting towards land, was stronger than usual, and Tiggak said, "We shall have a gale presently; let us make all haste for the shore." And though they could hardly credit his words, the weather being so calm, they left their seals behind and followed him quickly. Then the snow was seen foaming on the mountain-peaks; and when they had only reached the first row of islets, the storm burst strong and fierce, and broke up the ice. Tiggak took hold of his son's hand, running as fast as possible, and leapt across the clefts in the ice. At last they came to a very broad one near the land, and all of them jumped over to the opposite side; the son only did not dare to try the leap, but kept running to and fro along the edge of the cleft. At last Tiggak took pity on him and returned to him, the others also following him; but now they all drifted away seawards, and now [p.164] and then the waves washed over the ice-floe they were standing on, and they grew silent with fear. At last one of them remarked, "It is said that Tiggak is learned in magic art, and we are drifting out to the wild sea." Tiggak said, "I only know a short song treating of the ocean foam;" and he at once began singing. Having finished, they saw an iceberg close in front of them, and in a short time they came up to it, and soon caught sight of an easy ascent. The iceberg, however, kept constantly driving up and down, so that they had to watch their chance to get over. When they were just on a level with the point where they intended to cross, Tiggak took the lead and jumped over, and managed to get a sure footing on it; and after him the others followed. They were all, however, drifting further out to sea, when one of them again remarked, "We will be sure to perish from thirst unless Tiggak knows some charm that will work." He answered, "I only know this one little song to get water." Having finished the incantation, a little spring bubbled forth from the centre of the iceberg. The brothers instantly wanted to drink; but he told them to wait, saying that otherwise it was sure to dry up at once. But when he had tasted it himself, he permitted them to drink; and now it could not change. After having drifted about for a long time, they came in sight of an extensive country; and Tiggak said to his companions, "If any of you is fortunate enough to leap ashore, he must not look towards the sea so long as any of us are behind, otherwise our place of refuge will break up and be annihilated." When they did jump ashore, one by one, none of them looked round; but when the last had safely landed, Tiggak turned round and exclaimed, "Behold our place of refuge!" and lo! nothing remained of it but a heap of foam. They now determined to go and find out the people of the country; and having crossed an isthmus, they came in sight of many houses, and were shortly afterwards invited into [p.165] one of them. They relieved themselves of their outer garments, and hanging them up on the boat-pillars, ²⁹ went inside. During the meal, a squint-eyed youth with a shaggy head of hair appeared in the doorway, and called out, "The strangers from the east are hereby invited to pay a visit." And shortly afterwards he returned to repeat the same message. The host now remarked, "Since he presses you so ardently, you will be obliged to go." And so they entered another house, where a great many people were assembled. On the main ledge a disagreeable giant-like man was sitting, and by his side a similar old woman, gnawing away at a big shoulder-bone. The huge man pulled forth a seal-skin, spread it on the ground, and, in a deep-sounding voice, exclaimed, "Now come on for a wrestling-match!" The brothers commenced whispering to Tiggak that he should take the first turn; but he said, "Not so; you go down first, then I'll follow." The other guests were all ordered away, and the old hag fastened the door with the shoulder-blade. One of the brothers now hooked his arm into that of the giant. Unable to vanquish him, however, he was soon obliged to give in to the strong man, who, catching hold of his lower parts, fell over him, and, with a deep groan, he was crushed to death. The giant next called out for a rope, and this being immediately let down through the ceiling, he fastened it round the dead man's body, and had him hoisted up to the roof of the house, where a sound of knives was presently heard, and whence one cried out, "Here is his eye; let it be kept for our master." Tiggak meanwhile thought, "In this manner I shall soon lose all my brothers-in-law;" and therefore he whispered to him who was going to stand forward, "Just let me take a turn with him!" They now hooked their arms together, and the giant, taking a pull in good earnest, nearly succeeded in hauling Tiggak's arm across to him. Fortunately, [p.166] however, he stopped him. Then pausing a minute, he feigned to have been overcome by his adversary, but suddenly threw him down, and leapt upon him. The brothers now came to his aid, and assisted in putting him to death in the same way as he had treated their brother. Imitating the voice of the other, Tiggak now called out, "A rope, a rope!" which instantly appeared, and was made fast round the neck of the giant; and again he cried, "Haul away!" Once more the sound of knives was heard; but after a while all was silent, and at last one cried out, "Are we not flensing our own master? We'll make them perish down below!" And presently they commenced pouring water down upon them. They tried to leave the house, but found no means of escape. Suddenly, however, Tiggak remembered that his amulet was sowed up in the lining of his outer jacket, which he had left on the boat-pillars on their arrival, and he called out, "Bring me my coat that lies outside; I want it for a shroud!" Contrary to his anticipations, it was instantly thrown down, and catching hold of it, he loosened something from within the fur-lining, and there was his amulet all right. He put it into his mouth, and, after saying "Revenge us!" he again took it out. Already they heard voices outside crying, "He is falling!—and he too!—and there is another one!" and so on; and after a while the amulet returned, covered with blood. Having well wiped and cleaned it, the owner again threw it out and cried, "All of them!" When the amulet next time returned no sound was heard outside. They now pushed forward, and from a corner of the ledge they found their way out. Not seeing any person alive, they went back to the house where they had been first received, and again set to work at their meal. But the silly-looking youth again appeared in the entry, and said, "I'll tell you what—Apiak is now doing her very worst: she is cooking the brains, hands, and feet of her son." Tiggak, [p.167] however, could not understand him. The youth returned and told the same thing over again; but still Tiggak did not understand him, and let him go. One of the brothers—the same who had made the remark that Tiggak was learned in magic art—now said, "It will be the brains, hands, and feet of the one thou didst kill up yonder, and his mother probably intends to regale thee with a dish made of them. When thou hast been asked to go, thou wilt perceive an oblong dish right in front of the entrance, filled with brains nicely served up. On entering the room thou must quickly take hold of it, and standing erect with thy face turned towards her, and with thine eyes shut, thou shalt eat it all up—if thou eatest it with open eyes, thou wilt go mad and die; and after having tasted it, thou must turn the dish upside down, and put it back in its place. That done, open thine eyes again, and sit down beside the lamp. She will then turn her gaze upon thee, and thou wilt still remain unchanged; and when she takes the dish and turns it round, the contents of it will be all restored, and thou shalt say to her, 'Now, please, eat something thyself, as I have done.' While she is eating, with her looks turned upon thee, just see what becomes of her!" When the brother-in-law had thus spoken, the squinting youth again appeared, saying, "The foreigner is invited to follow me!" Tiggak walked up to the house of the old hag, and acted exactly as he had been told; and having eaten, the wicked old woman turned raving mad and died. Tiggak now returned to his brothers-in-law, saying, "I have killed the old hag, but they will go on in this manner if we stay here; so we had better leave the place altogether and make for our home again." They again crossed the isthmus, and saw a snow-covered hill sloping down to the water's side. There they stopped, and Tiggak asked the eldest brother, "What kind of amulet didst thou take when thou hadst to make thy choice?" He answered, "A small piece of bear-skin." [p.168] Tiggak said, "That is first-rate." He then asked the second one; and he had the same amulet, and so had all of them: but when he questioned the youngest of them, he answered, "I am not quite sure; but I believe it's a piece of bear-skin;" whereat Tiggak said, "That's all right; you will all do very well." When, however, he asked the son he had adopted, he only answered, "I don't know indeed." But Tiggak then said, "We shall leave thee behind if thou wilt not tell." "But I don't know it." "If thou goest on that way, we shall certainly leave thee alone; so pray tell us!" He then said, "When I was able to judge for myself, I got a snow-bunting ³⁰ for my amulet;" at which Tiggak became silent, and shook his head. After a while he remarked, "And yet it may do; thou must perch down on us;" and Tiggak let himself slide downhill, right down into the sea, where he disappeared, and again reappeared in the shape of a bear. He shook the water from his ears, and turned to the others, saying, "Now follow me all of you;" and they were all transformed into bears. When the son's turn came, he had not the courage. However, when the others had long besought him to follow them, he went gliding slowly down; and when he reached the margin of the water, he grew a snow-bunting, and as such was able to fly. Meanwhile all the others were swimming homewards; and when the little snow-bunting got tired, he took a rest between their ears. At length they landed a little to the north of their old homestead; and when they first climbed up the shore, Tiggak shook himself well, and his bear-skin glided off. The rest all did the same. When the son's turn had come, he shook off the snow-bunting's skin; and thus all of them marched home, except the one who had been killed.

[p.169]

17. MALAISE—THE MAN WHO TRAVELLED TO AKILINEK

[This story has been collated from two separate copies, one of which was written down from the verbal narration of an East Greenlander. Akilinek signifies a fabulous country beyond the seas.]

WE are told that Malaise (pron. Malysee) was a jolly, fearless fellow, who lived in prosperity with his two sisters, both younger than himself, and that he had his winter-quarters at the mouth of a fiord. When he went out kayaking, his sisters followed him on foot, going along the beach; and returning as soon as they saw him put back, they reached home at the same time. One day when the sea was all covered with ice the sisters went away to the outermost islets, to gather some roots. Suddenly an eastern gale overtook them; the ice broke up, and they were taken far out to sea in very bad weather. After a while the sky became clear, and they came in sight of some high land. They drifted on towards it and landed safely, but almost starving with hunger. On looking round they saw that the ice-floe on which they had floated had turned into foam. Each of them had part of a gull for an amulet. They now wandered across the country, and arrived at a little bay into which a river emptied itself, and the eldest said, "There will be salmon yonder, I warrant, or there would not be so many gulls about. Let us go and have a look at the place." Coming down to the riverside they found it abounding in salmon; and having instantly caught one, they made a fire by rubbing pieces of wood together, and put the fish on a slab to fry it: but though they only ate half of the tail-piece, both were quite satisfied. It was now getting low tide, and [p.170] they saw the beach turning quite dry, and all along the coast there were numbers of spotted seals (Phoca vitulina), and various other kinds besides, of which they killed as many as they required with big stones. Having taken up their abode in this place, they one day observed two kayakers, who were out hunting for spotted seals. On seeing the girls they were heard to exclaim, "Well, he who gets ashore first shall marry the prettiest of the two;" upon which they both took to their paddles, and he who first reached the shore touched the elder sister, the other one taking the younger; and quite forgetting their hunt, they hastened home to fetch a boat. Before long they returned with a good crew, got the girls into the boat, and brought them to their house, where they lived as happy as could be for some time. After a while each of them had a daughter; but subsequently the eldest one noticed that her sister had quite lost her spirits. One day, when the two happened to be all by themselves, she asked her why she was always sobbing and crying; and the sister answered that her husband had told her that he would kill her if she next time bore him a daughter. The eldest sister advised her to feign that she was quite content, and went on saying, "We'll pack up our clothes, and as soon as the ice forms, we'll return to our old home; but don't let them suspect anything." They now made themselves new clothes, and put them by in their bags, which had been concealed beneath the boat outside about the same time that the ice covered the sea. The seal-hunting ceased; and the men having nothing else to do, went out visiting at a large house close by, where they amused themselves with dancing. The elder sister now proposed that they should try to make their escape at a time when the men had gone away to their dancing; and they only waited a convenient opportunity. One night when there was to be a dance, and all the other women had gone to look on, so that nobody was to be seen [p.171] outside, the sisters first walked up and down outside the house, lulling their children to sleep. That they might not be suspected, they had only put on their short breeches. The little girls who used to nurse the children came running out after them, so that they could not get off immediately; but soon afterwards they heard singing within the house, and as it seemed to be a funny song, the girls went in to listen. Upon this the sisters hastened away to the boat, and having got on their breeches and put the babies into their amowts,³¹ they started. At first they kept on shore, but subsequently went out on the ice, and there they wandered all the night long. At daybreak they went to hide behind some blocks of ice, and before long they heard the sound of sledges, and perceived that their traces had been followed. Where their footprints were lost, they heard their pursuers halt and call out to them, "Your poor little children are crying for you;" but they did not leave their place of retreat until evening. They then set forth and continued their journey; but on the way they suffered their babies to freeze to death, and having put them down on the snow, left them there. Some time afterwards they reached land and recognised the place where they had formerly had their winter-station. They proceeded a little further, and behold! there was their own little house, just as they had left it. Malaise was very much astonished to see his sisters entering, and immediately questioned them about Akilinek and the hunting in those parts, but he could not make them tell anything. After the return of his sisters, Malaise displayed great energy in fishing and hunting. When the days were beginning to lengthen, he one morning came back to the house, having put on his kayak-jacket, and stepping inside he said, "This is a fine day to go out kayaking;" upon which the sisters [p.172] turned to him, saying, "Though almost nothing is to be got in this poor country, it cannot be denied that Malaise strives hard enough to provide for us; but, to be sure, in Akilinek there is something for a hunter." Hearing this, he put his jacket aside and said, "Well, then, let me hear something about it;" and from that day they began telling him all he wished; and even in fine weather Malaise did not stir out. Once when they had been telling him of the many seals they had found on the dry beach, he could not forbear saying, "I really must try Akilinek—in spring when the saddleback-seals³² appear. I will give my women's boat a threefold covering. Then his wife began crying, being of a very timid disposition; but Malaise only laughed at her. As soon as the seals appeared, he caught as many of them as they wanted for his purpose. The boat got three coverings; and he only waited a favourable opportunity for starting. One day he rose very early, went outside, and ascended a hill to ascertain the state of the weather. On finding that not a breath of wind was stirring, he returned, and on entering the house, observed, "The day is fine and it is quite calm now; let us be off for Akilinek." His wife again cried; but Malaise laughed down her fears, and made preparations for their departure. When the boat was ready, his wife, still sobbing and crying, was put into it; then they pushed off from shore, and heading westward, at once put out to sea. The sisters had to row all by themselves, and their sister-in-law continued crying in the bottom of the boat. When at last she left off a little, Malaise, further to tease her, rose from his place, and looking aft, observed, "I think we are going to have a gale, it is getting quite black out there!" after which she again commenced crying in good earnest, to his very great diversion. At last they entirely lost sight of their own country; but [p.173] Malaise thought they were very slow in getting on, and he cut the outer covering away because it had grown too wet. Before they had sighted any land, he likewise cut off the second cover, and then they again went on a good while; but all on a sudden Malaise sprang to his feet, saying, "I see the loom of the land yonder!" On hearing this his wife also got up and stuck to the oars bravely. They soon came close to this land, and the sisters recognised the bay in which they had first landed, and at the same time observed their former husbands, who were now coming on to attack them. Before their departure, however, Malaise had been out to the grave of some relative in search of a pair of reindeer-skin stockings, which he had brought away with him. He now took a drinking-vessel, which he filled with water, and having poured some dust mingled with the hairs of the stockings into it, he put the tub down on an adjacent rock, where their adversaries were obliged to pass by. When the eldest came up to it, he took a drink of water, but was at once transformed into a reindeer, which was shot by Malaise, and rolled into the sea. The other one had no better luck; and in this manner Malaise killed all their companions excepting one, to whom he said, "I will spare thee that thou mayst live on, a miserable specimen of thy countrymen." Some time afterwards he again gave his boat three separate coverings, filled it with narwhal-horns, matak (the edible hide of the whale), salmon, and many other valuables, and reached his former home, where he stayed content until his death.

[p.174]

18. NAVARANAK OR JAVRAGANAK

[This apparently historical tradition has been given in two separate narratives, the original copies not agreeing sufficiently to admit of their being combined into one, although they have evidently sprung from the same source. The variants of this tale exemplify in a very remarkable manner how the narrators have practised their habit of localising events. The first copy is one from North Greenland, where the inlanders are meant to represent the fabulous inhabitants of the interior of Greenland; the second is one from Labrador, in which the native Indians of that country are plainly alluded to; and it is very remarkable that a third record of the same events has been received from South Greenland, in which the inlanders are represented as being identical with the ancient Scandinavian settlers in those parts of the country.]

THE inlanders and the coast-people in the beginning were friends. A servant-maid called Navaranak used to be sent out by the inlanders to the coast-people in order to fetch back matak (edible whale-skin), and in exchange brought them reindeer-tallow; but after a time she grew weary of this work, and resolved to free herself by making them enemies. For this purpose she told the inlanders that the coast-people were going to attack them, and to the coasters she asserted that the inlanders were making ready to invade them. At length she provoked the inlanders to such a degree that they resolved upon attacking the coast-people. They chose a time when they were well aware that the men had all gone out hunting; and, accompanied by Navaranak, fell upon the helpless women and children. In their fright some of the mothers killed their own children, but one woman who was pregnant fled down beneath the ledge; and when Navaranak was sent back by the inlanders to find her out, she promised her all she possessed not to betray her. Some also escaped by hiding themselves among the rocks, but all the rest were killed. When the men [p.175] returned, those who were left alive ran down and told them what had happened; and on coming up from the beach to their houses and beholding all their dead, the men were almost desperate. When the time came for flensing and cutting up the whale, Navaranak did not arrive as usual; she seemed to have disappeared altogether. When summer had again come round, the men prepared a great many arrows, and set out for the interior to take revenge on the inlanders. On their way they called out, as was their wont, "Navaranak, come on; we have got matak for thee!" but no one appeared. Again they went on a good distance, and then repeatedly called out, "Navaranak," &c. And this time she answered the summons, and went up to them. On noticing their arrows, she was about to take flight. Reassuring her, however, they told her she had no need to do that. When she had ventured quite close to them, they asked her where her countrymen were to be found, and she said, "Further away in the interior of the country!" but now they made her fast to a rope, and dragged her along with them until she perished. At length they arrived at a very large lake, where the tents of the inlanders were pitched all around, and they saw people going out and in. But they waited till all had entered the tents, and then they made their attack. Arrows came flying from both sides; but those of the inlanders soon grew fewer in number, and the coast-people remained all unwounded. When they had done with the men, they went inside, killing women and children; and having thus satisfied their revenge, returned to their homes.
 

[On the island of Okak, in Labrador, this tale is told as follows:—]

At Kivalek, on the island of Okak, there once lived a great many people, among whom was an Indian woman named Javraganak. From her childhood she had been [p.176] living with the coast-people, whose servant she was; but nevertheless she had always remained a stranger among them. One day when she was hungry, and longed for one of her Indian dishes, she said, "At Pangma my countrymen have plenty of tongues;" upon which an old man sneeringly replied, "I daresay thou hast many brothers and relatives away there; thou hadst better make them come over here,"—and at night she wandered away to give them warning. In those times hares were very abundant, and sometimes you might even hear them run about on the house-tops. One night when Javraganak had come with a great number of her countrymen, those within heard a murmuring sound outside, and the old man said, "Well, if that is not the hares again! They are very lively, it seems." Besides him there was not a man at home; they were all out hunting. And so it happened that all the inhabitants were put to death by Javraganak's Indian countrymen. Many of them sought refuge in a cave, where some were suffocated and others murdered. On their return the men found their wives and children all killed; but shortly afterwards they set out to kill the murderers. Among these men was an angakok, who made a road for them right through a mountain, and the countrymen of Javraganak were all destroyed. She, however, was not to be found, having gone to hide herself; but the men had great trust in their angakok. At last a man happened to call out, "How I wish that Javraganak would serve me again!" upon which she immediately appeared, looking very comfortable. But they soon all fell upon her, wound a cord around her body, and dragged her along the ground till she died. And in this way she was paid back for what she had done to them.

[p.177]

19. AVARUNGUAK OR AGDLERUT

AT a well-peopled place the trick of pinching was a favourite amusement with the inhabitants. One night a girl, who was an only sister with a number of brothers, came running in, crying, "I wonder who it can possibly be who is always running after me and paying court to me?" They told her that when he again made his appearance, she had better bring him into the house. When at length she brought him in, it was a man totally unknown to all of them. Avarunguak—such was his name—had grown up in solitary places, and when he came among people he married this girl, and after a while learned to manage a kayak, and grew an excellent hunter. Once they had some visitors from the south, and an old woman of the party accosted Avarunguak thus, saying, "If Avarunguak were to hear of the nice hunt, and the many auks³³ we have down in the south, I am sure he would be wanting to go there!" So saying, she went away; but having heard her, Avarunguak could not sleep, so great was his desire to go at once. Already the next morning he ordered his housemates to make ready for the voyage; he wanted to be off for the south, he said. They loaded the boat and got under way. On the way out they asked the people they encountered whether the place was still far off, and all made answer that it was not very nigh yet. At length they put on shore, to rest from the toil of rowing, at a place where the people said that to-morrow they might possibly gain their destination. "When ye leave here, and have doubled the cape, ye will come in sight of a very large tent—this ye must shun; but soon afterwards ye will perceive a little [p.178] white point, and having also passed this, ye will fall in with a great many people. To those ye shall go up." On leaving, they soon observed the little white promontory right enough. Avarunguak steered his boat towards the large tent, unheeding the advice of his companions. On landing, a huge man came out from the tent towards them, and receiving them very civilly, went on saying, "It is really a matter of difficulty to get any one to keep company with here; pray stay and live with me;" and accordingly they prepared for wintering there.

Every morning Avarunguak awoke at an early hour, but somehow his housemate was always out and off before him. One day in autumn he happened to meet him on their look-out hill; and when the huge man observed him, he said, "It will soon be the time when the auks will come screaming across the country; then thou must be sure to get up in good time." But rise as early as he might, Avarunguak was never able to be beforehand with his companion, but always found he had gone out first. One day, when he again overtook him on the hill, he said, "There, the auks are coming across the sea. Make haste to thy tent; but mind, shut the curtain closely, so that only one bird can get in at a time; and do not begin to catch any of them until the tent is quite full." When Avarunguak had entered and drawn the curtain close, he heard a tapping and rustling, and the birds began to flutter in. He could not, however, take time, but began catching them too soon, upon which the birds instantly left; and at the same time he heard the man scolding, and saying, "Didst thou not mind my telling thee that thou wert not to catch them till the tent was quite full, lest I should be in want of food?" Still, Avarunguak had got a great many birds, quite sufficient to live upon for a good length of time. Some time after, his house-fellow said, "Now it is near the time for the walrus, but I do [p.179] not pursue them; the red walrus is a very ferocious beast, and at that time I do not venture out at all." When these animals appeared, Avarunguak grew very excited about going, taking a great interest in all kinds of hunting that were new to him. When he landed his first walrus, his big companion came down to the beach, took hold of the walrus, and dragging it along with only one hand, passed by Avarunguak's tent, and carried it off to his own. Avarunguak wondered, and said to himself, "I doubt if I shall have a taste of my first walrus;" and entering, he saw the big man busy eating it all by himself, his wife and daughter only looking on; but he did not dare to make any objections. Next time he got a walrus the big man's wife came, and at once carried off his prize, and, after her, their three daughters did the same by turns. Not until they had all got their walrus did they desist; and then, at last, he could think of providing for the ensuing winter. In the beginning his huge friend proposed that they should come and live all together in his house; and when Avarunguak consented, the big man added, "We are five individuals ourselves, and consequently have five windows. Now I suppose that thou wilt add as many as ye count persons." To this Avarunguak answered, "Why, we have never built any more than two or three windows for a company of travellers, with only one boat, whatever their number may be."³⁴ "Then just do as thou mayst like, and put in two or three windows, but only do come and live with us." In the beginning of winter Avarunguak always caught plenty; but the big man having no kayak of his own, never went out. As time wore on, the sea froze up, and all hunting ceased. The master of the house then spoke, "Here we are all badly off; but I know that behind our country there is good hunting enough, and thither we intend to go tomorrow." [p.180] Avarunguak had a great mind to accompany them; but the other asked him, "How swift mayst thou be?" "Why, I think I can run a race with any of the quadrupeds." But still the man was very unwilling to take him with him, and only consented at last after much beseeching. The next day they departed, all of them carrying cords of sealskin round their necks. They crossed the neighbouring mountains, and in the distance beheld a bare land, and then the big man spoke: "Dost thou see yonder lofty mountains far away? Behind, there is a sea where the white whale in abundance are found; but when we get so far, thou must only aim at the small ones, because thou wilt not be expert enough to carry home one of the larger ones." As they wandered along, the daughters had to take hold of Avarunguak by his arms to help him along, because he was not quite able to keep up with them. When they reached the appointed place, each of them watched at a cleft in the ice. No sooner did Avarunguak see a huge white whale rise to the surface than he at once aimed at and killed it. Then the other party came on, each of them bringing up two fish; but when the master saw that Avarunguak had disobeyed his orders, he gave him a scolding; and when they prepared to return, they wanted to tie his fish to their own, and make him sit down on the top of it, and thus be dragged home. But he answered, "Since I commenced hunting I have never let my game be carried home by any one but myself, nor shall I do so now. I have caught the fish myself, and will take care to bring it home." They let him have his own way, but in a moment they disappeared from his sight, as if they had been blown away. It was evening, and again beginning to dawn, before he could even see his home, and he met the others coming back to fish anew. It was not till the fourth day he got home; and on the way he had been obliged to eat all the matak (skin) of his dolphin. Meanwhile his [p.181] relatives had been very anxious about him, thinking that perhaps his companion had killed him. About this time, Avarunguak's people had a dog that happened to whelp. When the first whelp appeared, the huge man whispered something to his wife, on which she brought it him, and he took hold of it and examined all its joints. The wife then put it back in its place, and subsequently brought each new-born whelp to him to be examined in the same way; but when they had handled the seventh, which was also the last, they were heard saying, "This one is perfect; there is not a limb wanting." From that time they seemed despondent; and Avarunguak, who began to fear their intentions, one day said to them, "If you would like to have a dog, you are welcome to take the one you like best." This seemed to please them highly, and they chose the last born, and became so fond of it that they let it stop on the ledge and sleep at night beside them. From this time Avarunguak himself became a great favourite with his other house-fellows. While the winter lasted, the big man once spoke as follows, "We intend soon to go and visit our enemies." Avarunguak was very desirous to join the party, but his house-master answered him, "No, friend; thou wouldst too soon be worn out: for, in the first place, thou canst not eat blubber and flesh enough; and secondly, because of thy clumsiness and want of speed." He answered, "As to the blubber and flesh, methinks I do well enough as regards both of them." Whereat the big one rejoined, "Well, then, try to lick out the oil of all the lamps here, beginning with the outermost." Avarunguak succeeded; and only a few days after, the leader told him "that now he might accompany them to their enemies," adding, "when we have entered, and begin licking the oil, thou must be sure to help us. Next they will present each of us with one large white fish, and thou must thrust thy knife right into it, turn it round, and put the piece thou has cut out into thy [p.182] mouth, and suddenly exclaim, 'I must go outside, but I will be back in a moment, and go on eating; I enjoy it very much.' But when outside take to thy heels, and run for home as fast as possible, and before thou hast been off long, we shall empty the lamps, and soon overtake thee." Some time after, they carried out their intention of visiting their enemies in their place of abode. They at once set about licking the oil of the lamps, beginning with the first, Avarunguak joining them to the best of his ability. When the hosts saw a stranger among their visitors, they regarded him keenly, so that the huge man interposed: "That is a new housemate of ours; he is living with us at present, and assists us every way,"—and they went on praising and flattering him very much, and making a great deal of his dexterity and strength, adding that he was more than a match for them every way. This was anything but the truth; but they dared not do otherwise, for fear of their enemies. The host now said, "Bring in the meal for the visitors," and the women instantly went out, and returned, bringing in large white fish. The guests soon fell to; but Avarunguak forgot he had been advised to leave off in good time, and never remembered till he was quite satisfied. He then observed his companions making signs to him, and quickly pronouncing the words he had been told, took himself off, and commenced running as fast as possible. On coming near their own house he turned round, and looking back, he saw that the creatures he had been visiting were transformed into bears, pursuing him closely; but his own housemates soon overtook him, and the daughters again took him by the arms to speed him on. When they had almost reached the house, the enemies seemed at their very heels, and Avarunguak was deserted by his protectors, who gave him a blow, so that he fell, and the bears instantly gathered round him. But he chanced to have a salmon for his amulet, and this did him good [p.183] service in making him too slippery to be caught hold of, and thus he escaped. When spring came round, Avarunguak took a fancy to remove to another place; and on departing, his huge companion said to him, "I hope thou wilt soon return and stay with us; but wherever thou goest, mind to tell the people never to kill a bear when one appears." Thus they departed; but on turning round, they now saw that their housemates too had been transformed into bears: they had been wintering among bears in human shape. Later on they heard that some people in the south had killed a bear, and still later Avarunguak and his wife died.

20. THE GIRL WHO MARRIED AN ATLIARUSEK³⁵

AN aged couple had a daughter who had a great many suitors; but the old people were very selfish, and wanted to keep her at home. Meanwhile a man came who was very anxious to get the daughter. At last he fought them, and had nearly killed them; but the old man escaped, and got into his boat. The other men of the place despised and scorned him; but they got the boat loaded, and left. The others shouted to him contemptuously, "It won't be easy for thee to get a husband for thy daughter! The poor old thing, who is quite unable to hunt—he to dare reject any one! Only let him come to be in want of necessaries, and [p.184] then look out if there be any one to help him!" But he set off without deigning to answer them, and landed at one of the outermost islets. There they built their house, and put up for the winter. One morning the old man awoke, saying, "I wonder what I have just been seeing? Methinks I saw a man gliding through the doorway." He questioned his daughter; but she keeping silence, he got suspicious. When he awoke the next morning, he saw a real man slip out of the doorway; and on being closely questioned, the daughter confessed that she was married to an atliarusek. On hearing this, the father was very happy; but she went on saying, "For fear thou wouldst not like him, he keeps out of sight; but if thou dost not mind, he will come and live with us." The father said it was all right, and he might come and take up his quarters with them at once. The next morning the old man, on awakening, turned his eyes towards the entrance, but saw nothing remarkable there; but on turning round to his daughter's resting-place, he saw a stout man sitting there beneath her lamp. The father was very well pleased, and leaned back on his couch; but listening again, and peeping out, the man was not to be seen. Towards evening the daughter several times left the room. At last she stayed away rather long, but after some time returned with a hunting-line, which she hung up on a nail to dry, saying that he had returned and brought home the produce of his hunt, but that he must take some part of it to his relatives. When her parents went outside, they saw many seals on the beach, and they rejoiced very much at their sudden prosperity. The following morning the old man peeped over the screen of the ledge, and there beheld the stranger reposing beside his daughter. The old man again lay down, believing him to be asleep. In a little while, however, he heard something stirring, at which he arose; but the son-in-law had already taken himself off. He again spoke to his daughter, saying, [p.185] "Why do you not make him come and stay with us? We like him very well indeed." In the evening, when he again returned with his catch, he went inside and made himself at home; and the parents were very civil to him. In the spring he wanted to go further inland along the fiord-side, as was generally his custom, but told them that he was obliged to join his parents, he being their only son, and as such he ought not to let his sisters be without protection. He then went away to his own home; and when they again met, he told them that now they were ready for starting. On hearing this, his father-in-law likewise put his boat into the water; and when it was ready loaded, and they were going to set off, another boat appeared, coming straight out of the beach. Both went along together, and made the land at the same time in the evening. Next morning they again started; and when they approached an inhabited place, the head-man of the atliaruseks told them always to keep close in their wake; and all of a sudden they saw his boat sink beneath the surface, and totally disappear. At this sight the old man got rather frightened; but on arriving at the spot, their boat dived down in the same manner, without any damage to the crew. Presently they caught sight of their companions' boat right ahead of them, and they continued their course beneath the waves of the sea. Having safely passed the inhabited places, they once more rose to the surface, and continued their voyage without further peril; and when they had arrived at their place of destination, went reindeer-hunting, and got their boats fully laden. When the old people had again taken up their winter-quarters, the son-in-law provided amply for them, and they prospered and were well off: About this time intelligence reached them that the men who had once scorned and abused them were living in great want, and the old man determined to help them. He loaded his kayak with matak, and brought it to [p.186] them. On his arrival, they asked him whence he had got it—whether it was not taken from the carcass of a whale that had been driven on shore accidentally. However, he left them without deigning them an answer to this question; and talking over this matter on his return home, the son-in-law exclaimed, "I should really like to have a look at these people;" whereat the old man went back to fetch off all the men who had formerly been his daughter's suitors, and returned with a large train of kayaks following him. They landed, and were very hospitably received, and regaled with reindeer-meat and seal-flesh; and when they had satisfied their appetite, the old man accosted them thus: "I wonder if ye can still remember what ye were telling me a long time ago when ye had nearly killed me, wanting by main force my daughter for your wife? Your words were these: 'Thou wilt surely never get a clever husband for thy daughter.' But you see I have, for all that. Likewise ye said that ye would deny me your assistance if ever I came in want: now help yourself, if ye please, and eat as much as ever ye like."

21. THE LOST DAUGHTER

AN old woman lived with her three children, two sons and a daughter. The sons were good hunters, and loved their sister exceedingly. As time passed on, the mother observed a change in her daughter's manners; and one day it happened that she went out by herself, and stayed away for good. The brothers sought her far and wide; but at last they [p.187] gave it up, and again took to kayaking and hunting, and now lived alone with their mother. But one day, when she was all by herself in the house, and had lain down to rest on the ledge beneath the skin coverlet, she remarked a thing like a shadow gliding across the doorway, and on turning that way beheld her long-lost daughter; and perceiving the amowt (hood) she wore, she asked her to come and sit beside her, and admired her beautiful clothes, the amowt particularly, which was made of soft and thin reindeer-skin. When a low cry was heard from within it, the mother asked her to take out the little one she was carrying to let her see it. But the daughter answered her, "What I carry on my back is no human being. Thou hadst better hide thyself beneath thy skin coverlet." The mother accordingly did so; but peeping through a small opening, she was dreadfully alarmed at seeing her daughter produce a large reptile, which she allowed to bite her lips so as to make them bleed; and having caressed it in a motherly way, she let it suck at her breast. Then having replaced it in her amowt, she asked her mother to look up again, upon which the latter asked her, "Where is thy dwelling-place, child?" "My house lies far from here, in a very large valley; but my husband is not of human race: so none of you must ever think of coming to see me," she added, and left. In the evening, when the sons returned, the mother told them what had happened, saying, "I have seen your sister, but in a very low and contemptible state. Only think! she carried a vile reptile in her amowt, and was also married to such a one!" The brothers got into a great rage on hearing this, and at once prepared their bows and arrows to attack the vermin. Starting together, they took the direction which their mother had pointed out to them, and soon found the great house in the valley. After a careful inspection of all the mountains, they ventured to peep through the window, and there saw their sister comfortably seated [p.188] in a snug and well-furnished room. They entered at once, killed her offspring, and having torn it to pieces, threw it outside. They did not leave their sorrowing sister during the day-time, but towards evening they saw her dreadful husband approaching the place from some remote part of the country: its size was like the wall of a house; and in its mouth it carried a large reindeer. When it came nearer, the brothers went out to hide themselves at the back of the house, whence they saw the reptile drop the reindeer on the ground, and afterwards enter the house. They again ventured a peep through the window, and saw the creature twining itself closely round the body of their sister, so that only the tuft of her hair was visible. They tightened the strings of their bows, keeping them ready bent, and then made a little noise, in order to alarm the beast. The instant it emerged from the house, it was aimed at from both sides by the brothers; and when all their arrows had been spent, they finished it off and killed it with their spears. Having accomplished this, they made for their home, bringing their sister along with them, as well as all her things, and some dried reindeer. And now the sister was once more with her parents; and they warned her to leave off her former bad habits. After a little, however, her manner towards them again suddenly changed; and they perceived that she was always carrying something about in her hand. This appeared to be a small worm or reptile, with black streaks round its body. Every day it grew in size, so that before long both sides appeared out of her hand; and now she disappeared a second time. The brothers again went in search of her, this time taking their mother along with them; but she soon died on her way; and one brother had his leg broken: and henceforth they gave up all hope of ever finding their sister.

[p.189]

22. ANGUTISUGSUK

THERE were three brothers, the eldest of whom was called Angutisugsuk. They had never lived apart; and all of them were clever hunters, especially Angutisugsuk. One winter the weather was dreadfully severe, and all the neighbours were in great want. Only the three brothers had enough to spare, and the others claimed their assistance. It so happened that two old men came to them with that intention; and during their visit the wife of Angutisugsuk remonstrated, saying that they were having rather too many visitors about the place, at which the old men quickly took offence; and in spring-time, when Angutisugsuk's family left their winter-quarters, and were away on some long excursion, they visited the place in their kayaks, entered the empty house, and practised all manner of sorcery and witchcraft upon the wall adjoining the ledge occupied by Angutisugsuk's wife, in order to produce discord among the family when they came back from their travels. In autumn they all returned to the old house as usual. One day Angutisugsuk did not go out kayaking, but stayed at home to make a wooden plate and spoon. At that time he had got two wives, both of whom were very clever at needle-work; and he offered to give her who would mend his fur jacket for him the wooden plate and spoon. The first wife made answer, before the second could put in a word, "I want to have them—I will mend the jacket;" and she worked very quickly on it. The second wife, however, who happened to be the best beloved, on her part became envious, and got into a passion. Perceiving this, the husband struck her, because of her having borne him no children. At [p.190] this his youngest son began crying; and seeing it, the child's uncle fell upon the father, who was still ill-treating his second wife. In this fight Angutisugsuk thrust his brother against the door-sill with such force that his thigh-bone was bruised; and he would have followed up his advantage over him but for the younger brother and some others, who interfered in the quarrel. Thus it came to pass as the old men had planned when they went and bewitched the empty house in their absence. After having lamed his brother, Angutisugsuk next day loaded his boat and went off in it, taking a small roofless house for himself which he found a little north of his former station; and as a substitute for roof-beams he made a shift with his tent-poles. His proper wife he left behind, and only took the second one along with him. Seeing that his brother was now able to stir, he resolved to kill him, and repeatedly returned to despatch him; but somehow he always found his younger brother or his nephew by his side, and never succeeded in accomplishing his end. These two watched the sick man by turns; and only one at a time went out in his kayak. Angutisugsuk one day encountered his nephew at sea, and resolved to pursue him; but as soon as they came within sight of the house on shore, he left off and turned back. When the nephew got home, he told them that Angutisugsuk had been persecuting him; and his father (viz., the invalid) said, "To-morrow thou must go and ask our neighbours to assist us in getting Angutisugsuk out of the way, because he has gone raving mad; but two or three men will not suffice, for he is immensely strong himself." The son went the following morning to several stations, and brought a considerable party of kayakers along with him; and the invalid accosted them, saying, "Let us agree to kill Angutisugsuk. Every day he comes this way intending to take my life; but as soon as he sees anybody staying with me, he desists and turns back." All the men prepared to pass the [p.191] night there, hiding their kayaks behind the house; and early in the morning they saw Angutisugsuk in his kayak emerging from behind a rocky point close by. As nobody was to be seen, and he did not even observe the kayaks of his brother and nephew, he supposed them to be off, and made for the shore as fast as possible. An old man among the strangers now drew his hood closer to his head, and pronounced a magic spell, adding that, if it were likely to succeed, Angutisugsuk as a sure sign would turn the back of his hands downwards, instead of using the palms in ascending the beach. Watching him very closely, they noticed that he did as the old man had foretold, and they no longer had any doubt of their success. Having got out on the beach, he only drew his kayak half-way out of the water, and went straight up to the house as if to enter it at once; but bethinking himself of something, turned back to the large boat to get hold of a flensing-knife, and then proceeded to the entry. The men were all reclining on the side-ledge couches except two, who stood posted at the inner entrance ready to seize him. When he saw his brother sitting on the main ledge, he addressed him in the following words, saying, "Here is a brave man for thee! I'll show thee the way to fight! Didst thou really believe I did not intend to kill thee?" Thus speaking, he advanced a step or two, but was soon seized [p.192] by the two men, and quickly disarmed. He was at once conducted outside, where all the rest fell upon him; but nobody could manage to overthrow him. At last, when they had got him hamstrung, he fell; whereat they seized him, and held a council as to which of them should first stab him. At last the invalid brother was carried out, in order that he might finish him off. They put him down close beside the other, and he said, "Go and fetch me my spear from under the boat." When he had got it, he lanced his brother several times in the shoulder, saying, "Now let go your hold; if he boasts himself a man, he will be sure to rise." He did get up, and went towards his kayak on the beach, but fell down dead before he reached it. Then the surviving brother exclaimed, "Alas! we have killed him who did well towards us. In the short, dark days, when we were almost starving, he did not mind toiling away for us. I am sorry indeed: now do kill me also!" He asked his brother, his son, and all the other men; but finding that nobody would do it, he said, "Well, then, go and fetch his second wife, and kill her at any rate; it was she who began it all." They did so; and the person who slew her admonished the bystanders, saying, "Now put together all her things, and all her clothes, all her jackets of reindeer-skin, her breeches and boots of seal-skin—get them all together, and carry them along with her; and mind you close up the burial-place well, and heap plenty of stones on top of it." Later on, when the invalid recovered, he felt great remorse for his act of violence; but the old magician was quite satisfied that Angutisugsuk should have been killed by his brother.

[p.193]

23. SITLIARNAT

[This tale having much resemblance to Nos. 16 and 19, the text is here somewhat abridged.]

THERE were three brothers, the eldest of whom was named Sitliarnat. One day they all went out hunting on the frozen sea, accompanied by a person who was in no way related to them. All of a sudden a south-east storm arose, the ice creaked and gave way beneath their feet, and nothing remained to them but to mount an iceberg. Having got there, they drifted far away out on the great ocean. They were nearly starving with hunger when they at length touched upon an unknown shore and landed there. They now went roaming about the country in search of people, and passed an isthmus on which they observed a little hut with only one window. Sitliarnat then spoke, "Let them make me their first prize;" and he went on and crossed the threshold in front of his companions. Inside the house they only found an old couple, who seemed to be its sole inhabitants. The four strangers seated themselves on the ledge; but finding that nobody spoke, the old man began to eye them more closely, and having breathed upon them, asked them, "Whence do you come?" Sitliarnat answered him, "Some time ago we set off from the land on the other side of the ocean, and went out on the ice to catch seals; but a gale from the south-east came on, breaking up the ice and drifting us across to your country. So here we are; three of us are brothers, and the fourth is a companion of ours." Turning to his wife the old man observed, "After travelling so far people are apt to get hungry," upon which they added some words which the people did not understand. The wife fetched some [p.194] blubber in a pan, put it on to boil, and gave it them served up in a wooden dish; but though they were almost fainting with hunger, they only tasted a very little of it. Soon after, however, a proper meal was set before them, and then the old man said to them, "Our only provider is staying away a long time; we have been expecting him back this last month. He left us to go out hunting, and has not yet returned; we are much afraid he may have encountered some wicked people and have come to grief." While he was thus speaking, the guests began to think, "What sort of people may these be?" Meanwhile the visitors stayed on, and for some time the old man provided food for them. One morning, when they were all sitting together, they heard a voice calling from without, "I want to get in; do let me get in!" whereat the old man rose from his seat and went outside, but soon returned holding his son by the hand, who was looking very pale and haggard. After supper he lay down on the side ledge, and remained thus for several days, until one morning when he rose up very early. He had now recovered his health and strength as well as his appetite, and had regained his former aspect also, and again took up his task as provider of the household; but strange to say, he was never seen to carry any weapons. The visitors meanwhile prolonged their stay for several years; and one evening the old man, addressing the eldest brother, questioned him, "What did they give thee for thy amulet when thou wert born?" Sitliarnat replied, "In my infancy I got a carrion-gull, one of those that always seek the carrion farthest out to sea." On hearing this the old man responded, "So thou mayst be sure of returning to thy own country at some time or other." One of the brothers now put in, "All of us have got the same bird for our amulets;" but when the stranger was asked, he told them that his was a raven, a bird that always seeks his prey landward; [p.195] on which the old man replied, "I doubt if thou wilt ever see thy country again, if it is so." The old man used to rise the earliest of them all, and when the others at length came out, he was always seen to be on some mountain-top, marking the state of the air and the weather. He one day entered with this remark, "When the wind goes down and the weather gets settled, I shall take you across." But they wondered, and said, "How will he manage to carry us yonder, as there is no ice at present, and neither boats nor kayaks are to be seen hereabouts, and we don't even know in what direction our country is situated?" One morning when they were still fast asleep, he cried, "It is no time for sleeping now. Make haste and get up, if ye really long for your homes; I shall see you along myself:" and they now rose as quickly as possible, and followed him down to the steep shore, where they had landed years ago. Here the old man said, "Now watch me!" Then taking a run, he leapt into the sea, dived down, and reappeared in the shape of a bear, saying, "If Sitliarnat really has a gull for his amulet, it will soon appear to him. Do as I have done, and throw thyself into the water." Sitliarnat, however, still lingered a little; but the bear went on, "If thou dost not follow me into the ocean, thou wilt never get home." Sitliarnat now ran on and took the leap; and as soon as he had plunged down, he again rose and merely touched the surface with his feet, gliding along as if he were on solid ice, instead of being on the waves of the sea. At the same time the gull also made its appearance, and a large iceberg was seen which he climbed, both his brothers following him. The old man now turned to the fourth, saying, "Thou, too, wouldst like to return, I know; now try thy wings!" He, too, plunged into the sea, trying to fly, but went right down instead, and would have lost breath but for the bear, who put him on shore, saying, "No, thou wilt never get home, because thou [p.196] hast got a raven for thy amulet; thou canst return to my house as before." The bear now spoke to the three, "Shut your eyes and sit close together. If ye open your eyes, ye will never get home. I shall now put my shoulder to the iceberg, and push you away." Presently their place of refuge began to shake beneath them, and they had started on their journey. Thus they moved onwards until they at last felt a quake as if they were touching something hard. Here the bear ordered them to open their eyes, and they beheld a country spreading before them, and recognised it as their own. They had landed just a little south of what had been their former habitation. They asked the bear to enter, that they might recompense him in some way or other; but he said, "No, I don't care for being paid—I merely intended to do you a good turn; but when in winter-time ye should happen to see a bear with a bald head, and your companions prepare to hunt him down, then try to make them desist, and put some food before him." After these words he plunged into the sea, and instantly disappeared. The brothers now went up to their former house, and knew it to be inhabited because of some little boys who were seen at play outside. These children had been named after them by their parents, in remembrance of their lost friends. Their wives had all married again; but their other relatives rejoiced greatly at receiving those whom they had given up for lost a long time ago. Inquiries were also made about their companion, but they answered that they had left him "on the opposite shore." Perceiving that the husbands of their own former wives feared them, they reassured them, saying, "We don't intend any harm towards you. Many thanks to you that ye have provided so well for our relatives." But the wives, nevertheless, were given back to them. During the winter the bear was almost forgotten, till one evening, when they were all at home, some of the men exclaimed, "A bear is making for the [p.197] shore!" When they were collecting their arms, the brothers interfered, crying, "Just wait a little; we must first have a look at him." They instantly recognised their own bear, and said to the others, "Without his good aid we should never have reached home again. Don't hunt that bear; make haste and give him a feast." When the bear had got on shore, he went right up to the house, sat down on his haunches before the entrance, his head turned towards it. The people put several entire seals before him, and beckoned him to eat; and all the men gathered round him. When the meal was ended, the bear lay down to sleep, while the children played round him. After a while he awoke, and having eaten a little more, he arose, and following his own traces back to the beach, leapt into the sea, and was never seen any more. It is said that the descendants of Sitliarnat were very prosperous and multiplied greatly.

24. THE REINDEER-HUNT OF MERKISALIK

[This story is compiled from two copies, one of which had been noted down in North Greenland before 1828.]

MERKISALIK had only one son to assist him in providing for his family. In the summer-time they always used to hunt along the shores of the same fiord without any other company. Growing old and infirm, Merkisalik at length had to give up hunting and leave the providing to his son. Once when they had again taken up their abode at the fiord, and the son, as was his wont, had gone out hunting, the old people were left by themselves, expecting no visitors. Taking a turn [p.198] outside the tent, they suddenly observed a boat sailing up the inlet right before the wind, accompanied by several kayakers. Merkisalik was much pleased at this sight, and ordered his wife to put out some dry meat, to let them have a bite on landing. He rejoiced to think that his son should henceforth have companions on his hunting excursions. There were a great number of men among the visitors, some of whom were old and rather talkative and entertaining. When the son returned from the mountains, he was likewise very glad of the company they had got. He treated them with the utmost hospitality, and invited them to partake of the meal as soon as it was boiled and ready. Meanwhile they all conversed very politely, and soon agreed in going out together the next day. They did so, and before long came in sight of a number of animals feeding on the grass down in the valleys. When the drivers were all sent out, the hunters proceeded to make walls of earth, furnished with loopholes. The visitors now proposed that Merkisalik's son should be the last to shoot, and he agreed; but when the drivers had surrounded the animals, and began to drive them on towards the loopholed walls, the thought struck him, "What if they are too greedy to leave me any chance at all?" Meanwhile the others took aim, and shot all that were to be got. He afterwards assisted them in stripping off the skins; but on their descending the hills towards the tents, he remained a little behind. When the strangers returned they at once set their women to cook and prepare a meal, to which Merkisalik and his people were invited. During supper one of the men remarked, "There must be any amount of animals in this place, since even Merkisalik's son is capable of getting at them." The Merkisaliks heard this slight in silence; but afterwards, when they got into their own tent and sat down together, the father said, "It can't be otherwise; we must just let them have their way, seeing that they are [p.199] so many." The following day was spent in the same manner; they treated Merkisalik's son as they had done the day before, only allowing him to take up his position as far away as possible from the drivers: but on their way home he again kept back a little. Before long, however, he rejoined them, and on their return home the Merkisaliks were again invited to eat of the day's hunt. The man who the day before had scorned Merkisalik's son, now spoke to him in a similar fashion, at which he got into a great passion. However, they set out together the next day, and got to the entrance of a great valley, which appeared to be almost overcrowded with reindeer. As before, they ordered him to choose his hiding-place, and make his loophole behind them all, at which he murmured to himself, "If this is to go on, I shall never be able to get anything. I think I will give the beasts the alarm, that they may all run away." When the flock approached, driven by the drivers, he feigned to be busy about something or other. At last he was warned to be quiet, that the animals might not see him; but he only stopped a moment, and then began to move about again. In the mean time the flock was close by, when, all of a sudden, the leader stopped short, turned round, and bounded off as fast as possible. On perceiving this, the others began to follow him, but dropped short one after another, so that at the other end of the valley but one of them had kept up with him, and this one soon tired out; and when he was about to mount the slope he was left quite alone. Merkisalik's son shortly disappeared on the other side of the hills, pursuing the fast-running animals. Slowly the men followed in his traces: but when they got to the top of the hill, they beheld numbers of deer with white bellies ready killed in the valley on the other side; and on a stone close by, the huntsman was seated, already quite cool and refreshed. The others now arrived, their faces all red with heat and wrath, and nobody spoke. They at [p.200] once set to work, stripping the deer; but while the others finished one, he stripped and cut up two, and packing his bundle, he said, "Ye may all of you take as much as ye like." The man who had formerly ridiculed and mocked him did not altogether like this speech, but became quite mute, and would not join the rest. On the way home they separated. Merkisalik's son had now got into his old ways, and was in front of the rest. Carrying his burden on his back, and now and then resting himself a little, he got home first of all. When the others came without anything, the Merkisaliks had already all their pots and pans on the fire, and, after their wont, invited the foreigners to join them. During the meal the host tried to begin a conversation, but without success; they all remained mute, and even their old father kept silent. Having done eating, they retired, excepting the father, who now began to be a little talkative, and, as if by chance, remarked, "We want something that would do for a gimlet; would ye mind letting me have that knuckle?" Merkisalik gave it to him willingly, saying, "We have got lots of them." On the following morning the Merkisaliks were aroused by a clattering noise, as of poles, and peeping out, they saw the visitors pulling down their tent and preparing to depart. Thus they were once more alone; and their son again went out hunting all by himself. One day, when he was still busy bringing down the deer he had stalked to their station, he told them that he had got a swelling at his knee. It grew in size, and was getting worse and worse. The parents were much distressed, and at length he died, but not till he had made known to them that his disease was solely caused by the father of their former visitors, who, in order to hurt him, had bewitched the knee-joint he had asked of them, which had worked back upon him and killed him. The poor old people were inconsolable. It was now autumn; the little lakes began to be covered with ice, and it was time to leave [p 201] the inland country for the sea-coast: so one fine morning they made preparations to go. They first wept at the tomb of their son, and, still wailing and complaining, they went down the firth with a light easterly breeze. Having arrived at their winter-quarters, Merkisalik's mind was filled with hatred, and he was always contemplating revenge. In order to carry it out, he resolved to make a tupilak to destroy his enemies. To this end he every day collected bones of all sorts of animals, and put them into the brook close by to whiten, and then mixed them up with hairs taken from boat-skins; and when he had got as many as he required, he made them alive, and put them into the brook which flowed on to the sea. While he was watching the tupilak, he saw it was taking the shape of an agpaliarsuk, ³⁶ that dived down and turned round to its owner; but he said, "Thou art not the thing I want thee to be yet." Instantly it dived down and reappeared in the shape of a dovekie.³⁷ Again he said, "That won't do neither." It underwent many changes and took the shape of all sorts of birds; but he rejected them all. Then it was transformed into all manner of seals and dolphins; but they did not suit him either. At last, after another dive beneath the surface of the water, its breath was heard like a mighty roar, and he beheld a small whale, and then he said, "This will do; thou shalt avenge us." The animal now seemed to inquire, "Where am I to go?" and he replied, "To the hunting place of the many brothers." At these words it took one long breath, then dived down into the sea; and the man returned home and bided his time, waiting to hear how the family would fare who lived a little to the north of them. One evening a kayaker appeared rounding the northern point, and in him he soon recognised a poor relative and very old man, who for some time had had his quarters at the [p.202] same place as their former visitors. On their way from the beach up to the house, he related what follows: "Some days ago an accident occurred up at our place; one of the many brothers has not returned home. The day before his departure he told us that he had harpooned a little whale, adding that he would now go out in search of it; but he has never yet returned." The maker of the tupilak feigned compassion, saying, "He must, of course, have managed awkwardly somehow;" but inwardly he rejoiced at this intelligence. When the visitor departed, he asked him soon to return, but he did not do so for a good long while. When at length he did come, he again reported: "Yesterday the same accident happened to another of the brothers." When the visitor was about to depart, Merkisalik encouraged him soon to return, saying, "We are always glad to see thee; now come back as soon as thou canst." After another long interval he once came back, and told them that the last of the brothers had now disappeared, adding that the poor parents were very much grieved because of their bereavement. On hearing this, Merkisalik's wrath was somewhat appeased.

25. NAMAK

[Of this story there is only one manuscript, written down in North Greenland before 1828.]

THE parents of Namak were both killed by their house-fellows; and while he was as yet but a weak and helpless child, a man happened to take pity on him and adopted him for his son. But this same foster-father [p.203] was fond of worrying the boy, and inventing stories to frighten and excite him. Sometimes, when the child was asleep, he would cry out, "Namak, thy enemies have come to kill thee, too." At first he was much alarmed, but by degrees he got used to it. But sometimes his foster-father would say, "Ah, how forgetful that Namak is! Here are his parents newly murdered, and he forgetting all about it." At this, Namak would get into a great rage. When he was still a child, his father one day made him a present of a sling, saying, "I don't mean to give thee a kayak, because I believe that thy enemies will kill thee for all that; but take this sling and practise with it." Namak instantly began to do so, and soon got very clever in using it. In the spring he would betake himself to solitary places, practising his sling, always pondering over the things his foster-father had said to stir up vengeance within him. At home he spoke little, but inwardly rejoiced at his growing strength. Sometimes he brought in hares, and sometimes ptarmigan; he got them entirely by means of his sling. In the summer he never slept at night, but always in the day-time. Sometimes, when he had gone to sleep, his father would bring home a seal, and he was then awakened to assist in carrying it up to the house; but he would then hide his strength, and make-believe it was very hard work for him. One day, however, he said that his sling was too weak, and his father went to cut him a stronger one out of a very thick piece of seal-skin; and after that time he left off gibing the boy, because he began to fear him. During the winter it was reported that the enemies of Namak intended to remove farther to the north in spring. He got quite enraged at the thought that they would be going away before he could be revenged; and from that day his manner changed altogether. When spring came round, and they left their winter-house for the tents, he one day said, "I wish I could get myself a new sling." On [p.204] hearing this the father went out in his kayak, and had the good-luck to catch a thong-seal.³⁸ This he brought in while Namak was still asleep. When the women were busy flensing it, and preparing the skin for boat-covers, the husband said, "It just occurs to me that Namak is wanting a sling." He then roused him, saying, "Namak, thy enemies are making ready to depart." He awoke and ran out, and stood staring at the neighbours. On his way down to the beach, his foster-father said to him, "Just cut out a line for thy sling, wherever thou choosest." Keeping an eye upon his neighbours, he took the knife from his father, lifted up the seal by one of the forepaws with only one hand, and turning it over without any difficulty, cut himself a sling to his liking, all in one piece. On seeing this his foster-father got quite frightened. Some time after this, their neighbours were really going to depart. Namak slept, and his father roused him with these words, "Namak, this time thou mayst believe me; thy enemies are in the very act of departing:" but Namak did not think fit to stir; he had been cheated too often. The father again cried to him, "Now they are taking their tents away,"—and as he himself could hear the clattering of the bars and poles, he rose and put on jacket and boots, but without getting into the sleeves of his jacket, and catching hold of his sling from under the ledge, he hid it inside. Further down on the beach were some large stone-heaps; there he lay in ambush. Now that he had determined to revenge himself, he no more concealed his strength. While some were yet bringing down their luggage, the first boat put out, rowing briskly, and when right athwart of him, Namak put a big stone in his sling, and threw it into the boat, where it made a large hole, so that it instantly began to sink. "Alas! alas!" they cried. The other boat hurried on to rescue them, but underwent the same fate. The third one tried to save [p.205] itself by turning in time, but at that instant he flung the stone at it, hitting the prow and cleaving right through; and thus he destroyed three boats, crews and all, and his mind now got rest. One boat was saved from destruction, as it had gone out to sea at once, instead of keeping along the shore. His enemies increased in number after they had established themselves somewhere in the north; and seeing that they had reason to fear him, they trained themselves to be as vigorous as he. Namak married, and though he had never had a kayak himself, he taught his son to practise kayak-paddling. He grew up and came to be an excellent kayaker; and subsequently owned a boat as well as a tent. Now and then reports reached them from their enemies that they were numerous, and also strong. At last he persuaded his son to go and look them up; and in spring they went away northward in their boat, asking the people [p.206] they met with, "Where are Namak's enemies?" "Farther north" was the constant answer. At last they learned that their station was close at hand; and from that time they did not as usual land in the evening to take rest, but rowed on incessantly. On their arrival they asked the people who came down to the beach to meet them, " Where are Namak's enemies?" To this, however, they made no reply, but entered their houses, and the travellers had to make their way on shore by themselves; neither were they afterwards invited to visit them. However, they took up their winter-quarters at that very place, and settled down for the time. In the beginning of their stay, Namak advised his son to watch them closely, but afterwards they got less suspicious. That same winter, one morning, it blew a gale from the south-west, and the kayakers remained at home, and on that day it was announced, "They all want to see Namak." He was ready in a moment; the son likewise went: and thus they were going to visit their enemies for the first time. There was only set forth meat for two. The son did not taste much of it, but the father continued eating till the dish was nearly emptied. The visitors did not speak; but at length one of the other party proposed different sports, saying, "Ye ought to try strength at the pulling-thong first;" and then he took out the string fitted with walrus-teeth from beneath the ledge, and threw it upon the skin which was spread on the floor for the champions. But Namak said, "This is but child's-play for people who really want to try a match;" and so saying, he took hold of and tore the thong asunder with one hand, and then flung them down on the floor. Another offered to try strength with him, by hooking their arms together, and trying to pull each other over. Namak did not hesitate, but at once sat down on the skin. They now tried one after another, but nobody was able to move his arm in the least. Seeing that they were not able to match him, [p.207] they all departed. The son went home, but Namak never stirred, but stayed on. At last, however, he prepared to put on his outer coat, and did it very slowly and deliberately, always expecting an attack. They were never invited afterwards. In spring they again wanted to go to the south, and at parting he let his house-fellows first go into the boat, while he kept back, still expecting an attack from his enemies; but seeing that they did not come, he finally left the place.

NOTE.—The native writer has added the following very characteristic remark: "It is generally supposed that if his foster-father had not continually excited him, he would scarcely have grown to be so immensely strong. People say that among our ancestors, before they became Christians, there was no lack of strong men, because their bad consciences induced them to cultivate their strength. Nowadays, since people have turned Christians, and have no bad consciences, there are no strong men among them."

[p.208]

26. THE LONELY BROTHERS

[This tale is here somewhat abridged, and derived only from one manuscript, in which the journey across the country is represented as having been achieved from the west to the east coast of Greenland, an idea which can only have originated by transplanting the same story from another Eskimo country, where such a journey might be more practicable than across the frozen, impassable interior of Greenland.]

TWO brothers had taken up their abode at a fiord; there they lived alone, and having no female assistance, they were obliged to cook and make their garments themselves. One day when they were out kayaking, they passed a little rocky point, and turning their eyes landwards, they observed a woman standing on the beach. The eldest brother now said he would go and fetch her, and with this view he went ashore; but when he approached her she fled, at first slowly, till, when he commenced to run, she hurried on so that he gave her up and returned to his kayak. The younger brother now ascended the beach, and as he approached she stood quiet, making no resistance, but let him take her down. They fastened the kayaks together with strings, and when she was seated behind the men, she said to the eldest brother, "I observed thy intention to be bad, so I fled; but thy brother there has a better disposition." They now paddled homewards, all the time keeping a sharp look-out upon her. But it happened that they left off watching her for a moment; and instantly they heard a clattering noise, and there she was gone. They searched all around, thinking she might have fallen into the water, but there were no traces of her to be seen anywhere, and after a while they gave her up, saying, "No matter, perhaps she was not a real woman" (i.e., she had fled from [p.209] mankind, and was a ĸivigtoĸ, endowed with supernatural swiftness). They again untied their kayaks and made for home; but lo! there she was, standing outside the tent mending their boots. They ran up to her in case she wanted to run away; but she said to them, "Pray let go your hold of me, I don't want to leave you." For the first few days they were quite unwilling to leave her alone, lest she should take flight in their absence. Afterwards they started, but did not leave her neighbourhood; and they did not venture to go away from her for any length of time, until she had said, "I like to stop with you, and ye may go as far as ye like." As they could now employ all their time in hunting, having a woman at home to cook and sew for them, they got more prosperous than before. She bore a male child in due time; but from that period her manners were altered, and she grew restrained and silent. The eldest brother proposed to the younger one that he should question her as to the cause. At night when they lay down to rest he did so, and she answered him, "It is because of our baby boy; I would like him so much to go and see his mother's brothers. I cannot forget those dear ones, and that is the reason why I have grown so silent." The brothers agreed that they could not deny her the pleasure of paying a visit to her parents, and said that they would themselves accompany her. Delighted at the prospect of going, she prepared for the journey, and packed up a bundle of boots, as well as several new pairs of soles and other necessaries; and being ready for their departure, they started to cross the country. The wife with the child in the amowt (hood) constantly went ahead of them, and the others could scarcely keep up with her. For several days they wandered on in the same manner, but at last the woman exclaimed, "If my brothers be still alive, and are to be found in the old place, we shall certainly come in sight of their sea tomorrow; I recognise all the mountain-hills of my old [p.210] home." They still wandered on the whole of the next day, and towards evening they sighted an open water. At this they all began crying for joy, and were obliged to stop a little. The wife now said, "If we descend at once we shall not find my brothers; at this time of the day they always used to be out kayaking. Let us therefore stay here till to-morrow, and be down with them before they start." Accordingly they lay down to sleep for the night, and in the morning they descended the hillside together. A great many tents soon appeared in the valley below, and pointing to one among them remarkable for its greater size, she cried, "That is the tent belonging to my relatives, but I would fain go down by myself; meanwhile you must keep behind,"—and so she went. The sun rose bright and warm, and a moment after, an old woman came forth from a tent holding a child by her one arm and in her other carrying a large seal-skin for sole-leather, which she was going to stretch on the ground to dry. All of a sudden the little one turned round, exclaiming, "Why, is not that my aunt coming there?" "No, don't speak such foolish things. Thou knowest very well thy aunt fled away never to return any more, because of these quarrels and fights for her sake." At this rebuke the boy was silenced, but in a little while again went on, "Indeed, indeed, it is my aunt, and there she is coming!" The old woman, however, was still bending over the piece of skin, and busy in fastening it down. She only rejoined, "What stupid nonsense! thy aunt has gone away from us for ever. I only wish I could manage those pegs," (viz., for fastening the skins); but as the boy would not give over chattering about his aunt she got into a passion with him, and tore out the holes made in the skin for the pegs. Then for the first time she looked up and cried out, "That is she, sure enough. Why did not I believe the little one?" she continued, and went on caressing the boy. In the meantime the brothers had also in some way or other [p.211] been informed of what had happened, and each of them cried out, "Oh, my dear sister! ye have not cared so much for her as I have; ye have not missed her so much neither; ye have not longed so much for her as I have done." And each of them wanted to be the first to greet her, and to take hold of her. They all ran towards her, but out of reverence for the eldest they allowed him to be the first to give her welcome. They now began questioning her about her fellow-travellers; and she told them that the men were waiting on the mountainside above, and they ran to bring them down, and the entrance to the tent was soon blocked up with inquisitive neighbours, all eager to see the travellers who had crossed the whole breadth of the country. The brothers stayed at home all day, and for joy at the meeting could do nought but sit down together and regard each other lovingly. In the evening the eldest proposed that some kind of amusements should be got up, and they agreed to try strength with one another at "hook and crook;" upon which one of them drew forth a skin for the purpose, saying, "When strangers meet, one always likes to see which is the better man;" and acting upon his word, he at once undressed and seated himself on the skin. Seeing that none of the visitors moved, one of his own brothers sat down opposite to him, and they hooked each other's arms, and the eldest of the two beat his brother's back vigorously in order to encourage him to pull hard. However, neither he nor any of all the brothers were able to stretch out his arm; but when they had all done, he still retained his place sitting down on the skin. The eldest of the visitors now whispered to his brother, "I shall first take my chance, then thou take thine;" and he likewise undressed and sat down, stretching out his right arm and hooking it inside his adversary's. The visitor, perceiving his strength, thought, "I will try to conquer him before he is tired out, so that it may not seem to be too easy a job for me;" and he [p.212] gathered all his strength, and slowly pulled on the arm of his adversary till it touched his own breast, and the other now tried to draw him back, but his features grew quite convulsed, and the skin came off his arms in the attempt. They changed places and tried the game over with their left arms, but with the same result; and at last the host rose, with these words, "I now see that we have acquired some very strong friends;" and taking his seat on the main ledge, as the principal person of the house, he continued, saying, "We, too, have got a man of great strength among us, and ye will scarcely escape him; I almost fear you won't come off alive." The next morning a call was heard outside the tent, "The visitors are requested to come and fight!" At this summons they quickly dressed and went outside. There they saw a number of people ascending the heights; and following in their wake, they reached a plain, where a still greater crowd formed a circle about a fellow with a frame like a giant: and the elder brother whispered to the younger one, "It won't do for thee to go first—thou dost look so very dejected; I had better go myself." So saying, he suddenly rushed at the champion, and thus took the huge man by surprise. This was at sunrise, and at sunset they were still fighting; and the visitor thought, "I must try to throw him over before I get too tired." Taking hold of him, he slowly lifted him off his feet, and held him swinging in the air. He had noticed a pole stuck up among some rocks. However, he did not choose to knock him down against that, but hurled him right out among the spectators, where he fell down, the blood gushing forth from his mouth. A loud roar was now heard among the people—some rejoiced, others wept; and in descending to the valley below, they all gathered around the eldest visitor, merely to have the satisfaction of having touched him, and some addressed him, saying, "Thou shalt have my windlass in reward for that job." This, however, [p.213] he did not understand at the time. The whole crowd now vanished with one cry, "Ye shall be our masters henceforth;" and for a while they remained at their new station, kayaked, and were always together. When the frost set in, and the sea began to be covered with ice, the men chose a day for putting their hunting and fishing implements to rights; but the brothers did not join their work, because their manner of hunting was quite new to them. The next day they all started, and towards evening the eldest of the men came dragging along two large saddleback seals, others blueside ones,³⁹ while others had caught thong-seals. On the following day the visitors accompanied them to see their ways of hunting. They had left the shore far behind them before they fell in with the frost-smoke and reached the first apertures in the ice, at the edge of which walrus-teeth had been stuck down. These were what they had been calling their windlasses.⁴⁰ The eldest of the men now said, "Do not try to harpoon the big ones, but aim at the little firth-seals, and leave the others to me." They both obeyed his orders, and as soon as they had each harpooned a small seal, they wound up their harpoon-strings round one of the large walrus-teeth, and made it fast there. When all the seals had been slaughtered they prepared to return, letting the elder take the lead. But he had not gone far when, turning round, he remarked, "Now ye may go on just as ye like;" and so saying, he went off as if carried by the wind. The others followed in due order, but came home late. When they had all entered, the eldest of the men took out the dish with the boiled meat from beneath the ledge, and said, "I am afraid it is not particularly good; it will have lost its flavour, having been ready this long time." They went [p.214] out the same way next morning. That day the visitors each caught a large seal, and the chief of the men said, "They will not get home with these by to-morrow morning." But on their way home the elder brother said, "This won't do; we won't get any credit unless we try to be the first,"—and off they went, in order to forestall the others. The master of the house came in later, and was greatly astonished on seeing their outer clothes hanging outside the hut, but supposed that some other visitors might have arrived. On entering the house, however, the brothers put the supper before him at once, saying, "We fear the meat has got tough, and has lost its flavour; it is ever so long since we boiled it." At first he remained silent, but soon became more talkative, and said he was glad that he had got such able and clever helpmates. When spring came on, the brothers began to long for their own home, and they asked their former companion whether she preferred to stay or go with them. She answered, "I will rather return with you." Her parents making no objections, they went away together, and were never more seen or heard of by any of their kinsmen after the day of their departure.

27. SIKUTLUK

SIKUTLUK and his cousin were living together, and loved each other dearly. At that settlement the cousin was the only one who possessed a dog. One day Sikutluk observed his cousin sitting before his tent doing some work, the dog beside him. When he came close up to him the cousin suddenly said, "Pray, shoot [p.215] my dog." "No, I won't, because we are friends." But the cousin still persuaded him, saying, "Pray do it, nevertheless." He brought his bow accordingly; but not yet satisfied, he again inquired, "But wilt thou not really get vexed when it is too late?" "No, indeed, I shall not;" and the other killed the dog. The cousin, however, took offence for all that, and challenged his friend, saying, "He had a mind to kill him at once." But Sikutluk shot him right through the breast, and he fell down dead. Immediately after this, Sikutluk went and covered his cousin's boat and tent all over with heavy stones, and left the place along with his wife; but the murder he had committed had made him thirst for blood, and he went on intending to kill whatever he met with. At first he was content with killing ptarmigan and reindeer. They both brought with them as many arrows as they were able to carry. After a while they fell in with an amarok.⁴¹ They first discovered the young ones, but towards evening the mother arrived with a young buck in her mouth. From their retreat they noticed her dropping the burden on finding that her young ones were killed; and then sniffing the air, she followed the scent of human beings, and with a fearful howl came running on towards them at full speed. The woman screamed, "I fear she will devour us!" but he made no other reply than, "Ah, my cousin, my beloved cousin, I murdered thee!" and he crept forth from his ambush, aimed at the beast, and killed it on the spot. They hid themselves again, and soon afterwards saw the male return, also carrying a buck between his teeth. After the same words, "Alas, my cousin, my beloved cousin!" he shot this one also. They still wandered on and on, and killed everything living they met with on their way. One day the woman caught sight of a kilivfak,⁴² which stood scratching the earth with its [p.216] feet. When the husband had also seen it, he first went to look out for a hole in the earth close by, where he ordered his wife to go and hide, and remain quiet till he should let himself down to her. He now stole down to encounter the animal. Whenever it turned to look round he bent down to the ground; but when it stood scratching the earth, he crept on towards it. At last he had got quite close, and ventured a shot at it, and then hurried back and let himself fall down to his wife. After him came the wild beast tumbling down into the cave, where it entirely filled up the opening; but after much toil they got out again. They continued roaming further away; and in crossing the glaciers he carried his wife across the crevasses. At length he again reached the sea, and at the same time observed a kayaker close by. This man said he would take them to his own place if he would wait a little while he brought a boat for them; but the crew of the boat were all men. They took up with these people; but soon found out that they had come among erkileks.⁴³ One day Sikutluk told his wife that he would return and look for some of their kinsmen, and named a certain time by which they expected to be back; but in vain they waited for him. When the appointed time had elapsed, they promised an angakok a great reward if he could tell what had befallen the traveller. After some meditation he replied, "I observed he killed a pair of amaroks with their brood." The wife acknowledged it. "And a female kilivfak besides?" "Indeed he did so." "Then be assured the male beast devoured him." But the wife of Sikutluk lived on with the foreigners until the time of her death.

[p.217]

28. THE GIRL WHO FLED TO THE INLANDERS

[The details of this legend are somewhat defective, owing to the imperfect state of the manuscripts from which it was compiled. The tradition itself is widely spread over Greenland, but does not appear to be known any more perfectly by the relators themselves, and is perhaps gradually passing into oblivion. It is probably one of the oldest, and certainly one of the most remarkable, as pointing out the relations between the Eskimo and the Indians, and gives us several hints with regard to the customs of the latter, such as their dancing and their modes of disguising themselves.]

THERE was once a young maiden who happened to break her elder sister's needle, which was made of reindeer-horn and was very precious. The sister got dreadfully angry with her, although she lived in great prosperity, being well married. So angry was she, that she told her sister she might as well take herself off, and henceforth keep away from the coast-people. The girl at once obeyed, and wandered about the country for many a day. One night when she was sitting down on a stone crying, she heard a voice beside her saying, "Why dost thou cry thus?" and turning round, she saw a very tall man, whom she recognised to be an inlander (viz., fabulous people), standing beside her. Again he repeated, "For what art thou crying?" "Because I broke my sister's needle, and she sent me away." "And I was sent away in the same manner because I spoiled my brother's precious snare." Then he asked her to follow him, and they went away together to his house, where he made her a present of deer-skins, some for outer garments and some for inner clothes, and he took her for his wife. This inlander used to go and catch eider-ducks in a certain lake, by wading out in [p.218] the water and taking the birds by stealth. One day he proposed that she should accompany him on a visit to his relatives, and told her that when they came in sight of the house he would call out, "Kung, kung-kuyo! and they will know me at once," he said. They went; and as soon as from one of the hill-tops they could make out the house of his relatives in the valley, he made the sign, and they heard the children of the place calling out, "Somebody is saying, 'Kung, kung;'" and they saw his mother appearing in the doorway repeating the same words. They now descended, and entered the house. He had a sister who was an idiot (considered as a clairvoyant), and very talkative. He told her not to mention that a coast-woman had come among them, and he went to hide his wife in some remote corner of the broad ledge; but when his brothers came in they at once remarked, "There is a smell of coast-people about the place!" and when the fool went outside, she could not forbear saying to his neighbours, "Ye haven't got a sister-in-law like mine, with beads and necklace—a real nice one—one of the coast-women!" After this the inquisitive people thronged about the window to get a peep at the stranger. Some crept up on the roof and made themselves a peep-hole there, and in no time the house was quite full. Subsequently there was some talk of a boat that was shortly expected, and one morning it was announced to be coming. She knew them to be inuarutligaks.⁴⁴ On coming up from the beach, they stopped outside the house and commenced singing to one another, and then brought forth gifts of skins, and stayed with them a whole month, enjoying each other's company very much, feasting a great deal, and singing songs continually. At one of their banquets an inlander stood forth, and, by way of entertaining the assembly, he sang and danced. During the dance he transformed himself into a reindeer; but at this trick the children of the inuarutligaks [p.219] got dreadfully frightened, so that he again quickly changed himself into a man. Another, in his turn to divert the company, took upon himself the shape of a hare; but the inlanders' children cried out aloud, and he hastened to re-change himself as fast as possible. One inlander, when he danced, pulled the skin from off his whole body till it only adhered to a small portion between his eyes; but when the urchins cried, he soon put it all right again. At last one of the inuarutligaks came forth to dance, and he danced in such a way that the whole house soon leaned over, and all the inmates rolled down to one side with such force that one woman and a child were crushed to death. The entertainment now ended, and the next day the inuarutligaks departed, after having first invited their late hosts to visit them. In a month's time they made preparations to start, and they had a boat made of stone for the purpose. They agreed that the coast-woman might as well be of the party, but told her not to open her eyes during the voyage, saying that the boat would not move on if she did so. She complied; but as soon as the crew could make out the sound of children's voices, they permitted her to open them again, and she perceived a very little house, and wondered how they should all get room in it. While, however, she was looking at it, it seemed to grow bigger—the inuarutligaks knew how to enlarge their houses by means of rubbing them. They now went inside, bringing their bundles of skin, one for each person, with them, and then commenced their feasting and merry-making. One of the inuarutligaks stepped forward, and after having performed a dance, flung himself down on the ground transformed into an orsughiak-stone (viz., a sort of white, glistering felspar). The inlanders tried to lift it, but being quite unable, he soon rose up in his proper shape. One of the inlanders now advanced, fell to the ground, and was transformed into a common stone; but the inuarutligaks managed to lift [p.220] it, and flung it against the door, where it flew to pieces. In this manner the inlanders lost one of their people, and they left on the following day. In the summer-time preparations were made for reindeer-hunting, and the coast-woman was to accompany them. She had two girls for her enemies because she married so early, and they were always molesting her, and trying to make her ridiculous. They said that she was not so smart and lightfooted on the march as the inlanders; and one of them added, "To-day I even pursued and overtook a young deer!" On hearing this, the old woman of the house produced a pair of boots, which she filled with all kinds of vermin, and ordering her to put them on, she tightened them round her legs, the husband encouraging her, saying, "She must needs bear it in order to get agile and smart." But presently she fell into a swoon, and the skin dropped off her feet and legs. When she was restored to her senses, she perceived new flesh and new skin to be growing on them, and she had now become swift and nimble as the inlanders themselves. On their return from the reindeer-hunt she said she longed for her relatives, and was desirous to go and see them; and the next summer her husband accompanied her thither. Approaching the coast-side, they saw a kayaker, whom they hailed, and asked to bring a boat to take them the remainder of the way. On getting into it the inlander was dreadfully afraid, and fell down flat on his face at the bottom of the boat, where he remained till he landed close to their home. They stayed that winter at her parents, and once her father said, "I wish I could have got another son-in-law instead of this one—one who knew how to trap eider-ducks." The inlander had a habit of stopping in the house all day, but at these words he only asked a trap of him; and one day he returned all covered with ducks. The other men of the place in the winter-time often used to ridicule him, and always wanted to persuade him to accompany [p.221] them out on the ice for the mowpok-hunt (cor. sp. maupoĸ, seal-hunt, by watching the breathing-holes). In the summer he resolved to visit his countrymen, and on parting said to his wife, "If I find our son in health, I will return with more companions." He now set off, and did not return till next spring, and then reported that their son had died. He told his wife that it was now his intention to return to his own people; and when he left they never saw any more of him.

29. THE ORPHANS

AT a well-peopled settlement there lived an old couple, with an only son and a younger daughter; but the parents died before they were grown up. They, however, soon got foster-parents, but these did not love them—they were always scolded, and left to seek their food on the beach at low-water. One spring, when the people were going to start on their summer travels, they put the children into an empty house, with a small portion of food, closed the entrance with large stones, and then left them. When the poor orphans were well-nigh starving, they rummaged about the empty room to find something to allay their hunger, and fell to eating all the old leavings they could get hold of. When these were finished, the sister found an instrument for boring. As they could not reach the ceiling, they heaped up stones to stand upon, and in this way managed to make a hole in the roof to creep through. The brother first helped his sister to escape, and then got out himself. Outside they could see tents standing in rows on the islets, they being themselves on the main land; by [p.222] the smoke they observed, they knew them to be cooking all the day, and they could see the kayakers pursuing the seals. Being hungry, they went to the place where the seals used to be stripped and cut up in the winter, hoping to find some old bits to eat, and they were fortunate enough to find the head of a small thong-seal. When they had eaten a part of it, the sister stripped off the skin, prepared it, and said to the brother, "I am going to make a disguise for thee; dost not thou remember the magic song our mother taught us?" "Indeed I do; and I even remember one for raising a storm. Make haste and get ready the skin." She rubbed it hard, at the same time singing over it, and all the while it grew larger and larger. He tried it on, but found that it only touched his knees. She rubbed still more, and at last he could wrap himself quite up in it. The sister fastened it on him, saying, "There, thou lookest just like a young thong-seal; now try the water,"—and he went to the beach. He leapt down, while she remained singing the magic lay, and saying, "Now dive down!" When he reappeared on the surface she said, "Thou art looking like a little dovekie; I will sing again:" and when he again appeared, she said, "Well, now, thou art quite like a thong-seal; come!" When he rose the next morning and came outside, it was fine weather and quite calm; and seeing that no kayaker from the islets had left land, he took a fancy to play the seal. He put on his disguise and leapt into the sea. No sooner was he observed from the tents than they called out, "There is a young seal; let us be off and chase it!" There was plenty of joking, and a great bustle, and the men got their kayaks down into the sea in a great hurry. In the meantime he dived, but as he could not keep his breath all the time, he rose to the surface behind one of the kayakers, and took breath without being observed. In the hurry of the moment, some of the men had forgotten to put on their kayak-jackets, [p.223] though they were rather far out at sea. These the disguised boy had picked out to wreak his vengeance on. He sang the lay for raising the wind, and all of a sudden a gale began to blow. The hunters hastened to put back and reach home; but those who were not in proper trim had their kayaks filled with water, and perished. When the brother came on shore, he said to his sister, "I believe we may safely venture to let them see we are still alive. Now they have lost some of their people, we may probably be of some use to them, and may be they will fetch us off;" and they proceeded to make signs to attract attention. As soon as they were observed by the people on the opposite islands, these said to one another, "Let us get them over; we are in want of people." A boat was soon despatched; and after a while the orphans recovered. Later on in the summer they were taken into a boat's crew as rowers, and went up a firth for a deer-hunting station; but their master was not kind to them, and when he had got his first buck, he gave the boy the knee-pan, and said, "Until thou hast swallowed that, thou shalt have nothing else to eat." He was almost choked with it, but at last managed to make it go down, and then had his meal; but he never forgot the knee-pan. When the deer-hunting was at an end in the autumn, some people were leaving for the north, and the orphans were among their party, and thus left their former masters. They were not yet quite grown up; but they went on practising all manner of hard exercise, in order to increase their strength. In this they both succeeded; and the brother turned out to be an excellent seal-hunter besides. Some years afterwards, they travelled back to the south, and again came across the man who had made him swallow the knee-pan, but he had now grown quite old. Game was scarce in the middle of winter, but the young man still went out and tried his luck. One day he brought home a large thong-seal, and ordered the sister [p.224] to boil down the blubber into train-oil. This done, he invited all their neighbours; and when the meal was served up, he addressed the old man, saying, "I would like to know whether it be easier to swallow a knee-pan or to drink boiling-hot oil? Just thou try, or otherwise thou wilt have no supper." The old man hesitated, but drank it off at last; but his throat got scalded, and he died in the act of drinking. The young man was thus appeased, and left the place on the first thaw.

NOTE.—There is a story of some other orphans, that they were left helpless and destitute at the winter-quarters when all the rest of the people went deer-hunting; but when they were at the point of starving, they heard a noise on the roof of the doorway, and on looking out to see what it was, they found a ptarmigan. The next day came a small seal, and when that was finished, a large saddleback seal. Of other orphans it is told that the eldest, a boy, died of starvation; but that the girl, left alone, one day happened to see some kayakers hallo-hunting (viz., by driving the seals). When they had finished, one of them brought her a little seal; and when they again put out to sea, she observed them all turning into gulls and flying away. When she had returned, and lay all alone in the house, a queer little woman brought her a fire that could never be extinguished. Of another orphan the legend is, that he taught himself to walk on the surface of the ocean.

30. THE GIRL WHO WENT AWAY IN SEARCH OF HER BROTHER

[From two rather defective copies.]

ALEKATOKAK went away with her brother Asuvina, to set up fox-traps. Having arrived at the place they had fixed upon, she told her brother that she wanted a flat stone to make a door for the trap, and asked him to bring her one. He went to get it; but as [p.225] he was rather long in returning, she went off to seek him: but in vain; he had completely disappeared; and she was obliged to return by herself. On her coming home, her father said, "I suppose thou hast hurt him—perhaps even killed him: I shall be sure to punish thee." He had often threatened to make away with her, having never liked her, but put her down as an idle wench, unable to make herself useful in any way. Her mother pitied her, and advised her to flee the society of men; and accordingly she made up a little bag with some clothes, and went far into the country. She kept wandering about, and could even overtake the reindeer. Having once passed a cleft in the mountains, she saw a little house down in a valley, with an opening in the centre of the roof. She approached the house, and peeping down observed a giant-like fellow, who returned the look, and addressed her, saying, "What dost thou want here, thou miserable daughter of the coast-people? Dost thou think that I will let thee off like that?" He then rushed out to seize her; but meanwhile she had found a hiding-place; and when he had returned to his house, she again hastened on her way farther into the country; and at last she came to another house, which had three windows. She noticed that cooking was going on inside, as well as other business, without any people being visible. Though not aware of it, she had been coming all the way to the place of shadows. A voice was heard saying, "Thou little one from the coast-side, come in, come in!" and when she had entered, a dish with boiled meat was set before her; and her hunger being stilled, the invisible shadows among whom she now found herself invited her to stay and sleep there. After farther wanderings, she at length reached the sea; and around a little creek she observed a great many tents pitched up near the strand. She waited till evening before venturing to go down; and sitting on a slope, she heard the children of [p.226] the place call out, "A kayaker is coming! he is towing a seal!" Presently a kayaker appeared from behind a point. She heard them repeat, "Asuvina has got a seal!" and she felt sure that she had found her lost brother. The people of the place had a chief, whose tent was larger than all the rest; and beyond this was a plain, where they used to practise ball-playing. She recognised her brother accompanying the men thither, and saw that he was ordered to lift up a large round stone; but not being able to do so, the others threw him down. In the evening she descended the hill, and went straight on to his house. He wondered very much at her coming, and told her that he had lost his way in seeking the slab for her fox-trap, but that he was now married, and that his wife had a sister. He went on to tell her that they had an idiot at the place, who—viz., by clairvoyance—would probably soon be aware of her arrival; and that she had better hide herself a while behind the skin-hangings of the wall. Next morning the fool entered, saying, "In the night I dreamt that a woman from the coast-side, and sister to Asuvina, came among us;" but Asuvina answered, "I have got no sister," upon which the other went away; but Asuvina stayed at home the whole day long, enjoying his sister's company. In the evening she went with them to the ball-play on the plain, disguised in the clothes of her sister-in-law. When the chief had lifted the round stone, he made a false hit, and let it fall down upon his own feet, and fairly crushed them. Alekatokak now told them quickly to fetch a little dog; but on hearing that they had not got one in the whole place, she hurried away and soon overtook and brought back a young deer. She cut an opening into it, and let the chief put the sore feet down among the entrails, and in this way cured him. She got married there, and had a son. At his birth they brought her an oblong dish with certain entrails of a fox, and ordered her to swallow them, [p.227] shutting her eyes the while. This was the custom with them, when they desired the new-born child to be clever and dexterous. After this remedy she was at once restored to her usual health, and her boy grew to be a very swift runner; and they remained in the place and had numerous descendants.

31. THE DOG.

[This tale is taken from a single manuscript.]

AN old married couple had two sons and a little daughter. The sons were renowned for strength, and for being able hunters. They used to return with their seals towing in a long line behind them. But one day they did not return. While the parents were still expecting them, a man brought the sad news that he had seen them both hanging on an inaccessible rock. They were hung up by the feet, head downwards, and nobody could get at them to save them. This deed had been done by the inlanders. While the old parents were in deep affliction for their loss, they heard that some of their neighbours had a dog with a great many whelps. The mother sent the daughter away to fetch one, which she adopted, and had it always on the ledge beside her, nursing it with her own milk. In the winter, she noticed that the dog (being endowed with magic power) sometimes went on scratching his face, and at the same time always commencing to speak, and asking, "What do I look like now?" Towards the end of the winter they were in great want, having lost their protectors. The dog then said he was going for a walk into the country. One night be roused his foster-mother, [p.228] and having given himself a scratching, inquired, "Am I still good-looking? I shall be off to-morrow." The reason for thus scratching itself was to frighten people to death (viz., by charm). He came upon the inlanders while they were busy conjuring spirits. The angakok soon foretold his coming, and cried, "Fire! fire!" but the dog scratched his face, and rushed into the passage, hiding itself there. When the people came out, bringing lights with them, the dog frightened them to death on the spot. Next he set off in search of their storehouse, and carried some victuals back to his foster-parents, and showed them the place where they could find the rest. But from that time upwards the woman began to fear him; and in the spring, when the boat was loaded and ready for starting, she asked the dog to go back to the house and bring her something she had forgotten. As soon as it had disappeared to obey her orders, they pushed off from land, and set out on their journey. But the dog went on following along the shore until they gained the last point, from which it could follow them no longer. There it remained whining and howling. It is supposed that this is the origin of the present custom with the dogs to follow the departing boat along the coast, and go on howling at them from the last point of land.

32. THE WIDOW'S VENGEANCE

[From one of the older manuscripts.]

THERE was a widow with a son named Kujanguak; beyond her house was another one, inhabited by a number of brothers, all clever at their profession, and [p.229] well off. Whenever they had brought home any seals, the widow, according to the custom, would send her son to get a tamorasak (viz., little bit of blubber); but the men generally replied, "Thou lazy beggar, thou never assisted us in providing anything; so thou wilt not get anything neither." On his returning with this answer, his mother only said, "Never mind—just let them talk." One day they caught a mamartok (viz., a delicious kind of seal—one that has shed hair). The mother now took a stronger fancy than ever for a little morsel, and sent her son for it; but he was treated as usual: the men took a bit of whatever they could lay hand on, and flung it at him. When he came back and gave their message to his mother, she was in a great rage; and taking one of her boots, seated herself in a corner of the ledge to practise some charm. On the following morning, when her son looked into the pot, there was an eider-duck in it. The mother merely remarked, "Just take it." Part of it she boiled, and the rest was put by for future use. In the evening she repeated her charms and spells, and a small seal was found in the water-tub. The third day, the son, to his great surprise, saw standing on the floor a completely furnished kayak; the mother took him down to the beach, and made him practise paddling, as well as upsetting and again righting, till he had got quite expert at these things. The following day she let him go out again, and pointing to an iceberg, told him to round it in his kayak. He pushed off at her bidding, and when he was out of sight, she returned to the house. The neighbours likewise set off, and saw Kujanguak attacking a bear, which at last took refuge on an iceberg. The eldest of the brothers tried to climb it, but was not able. After him Kujanguak made the attempt; and having first asked the other to take care of his kayak, he clutched hold of the ice, and scrambled up. At the very top he encountered the bear, and immediately fell upon it; and taking hold of it by the neck, [p.230] flung it down into the sea, stone-dead. The youngest of the brothers, Sanak, cried out, "I have got a bear!" but Kujanguak quietly descended, got into his kayak, fastened his towing-line to the bear, and paddled home, followed by the other kayakers, who had given him their assistance. The mother now went down to the beach, accompanied by the sister of the brothers. While they were busy dragging the bear up to the house, the mother mockingly observed, turning to her, "Who knows how nourishing that flesh may be!" adding, "Now haul it up the rest of the way thyself; I am going to fetch water." Having finished this task, however, she returned to the bear, and now divided it into two equal parts, of which she gave her companion one, saying, "The skin thou mayst keep for a ledge-cover." She then boiled the flesh, and invited the whole party to partake of it. The other woman she asked to sit down on the main ledge; and when she had served the meal up she remarked, "It is a pity one cannot make sure whether there is any nourishment about this game of Kujanguak's." The woman visitor said, "I have been longing ever so much for bear's meat lately." They all ate well; and on taking leave the female visitor thanked her saying, that she had altogether found it a delicious and hearty feed. The following day Kujanguak again set off to the iceberg, and got a large seal. When he was returning towing it homewards, he chanced to encounter the brothers. Happily his mother had advised him beforehand, "If ever they venture to persecute thee, take some water out of the sea with thy left hand, and moisten thy lips with it." Kujanguak tried this as soon as they all came rushing in upon him. The eldest brother began the attack by catching hold of the kayak point, doing his utmost to upset it; but no sooner had Kujanguak tasted the water with his lips than the other let it go. Sanak now said, "Look at the foarning breakers there! let us try which of us can first get beyond them;" [p.231] and all of them pushed on as fast as possible. Kujanguak, who had a seal on his line, was first obliged to tighten it; but this done, he pushed on like a shot, and soon came up with the eldest brother, ahead of the others; and while they rowed outside of the breakers, Kujanguak went right across them, carried along by the surf. When the waves retreated, he jumped out upon the rocks; and when the breakers came rolling on again, he hastened back into the kayak. On the way home the brothers secretly consulted to surround him; however, he made his escape from them. Meanwhile his mother suddenly missed a certain lock of hair, and knowing this to be a bad omen for her son, was very anxious about him, until it shortly afterwards proved to be in its proper place on her forehead. Reassured with regard to her son, she now mounted the hills to look out for his return. On landing he was received on the beach by her along with the other woman, who asked him how her brothers had fared. He answered her, "I wonder thou carest to bother thyself about those stupid fellows!" When the flesh of the seal had been prepared, and the men were supping upon the briskets, the mother of the many sons grew envious and resentful because she was not invited to share the good fare. On hearing this the widow cut a piece of the loin, and having pronounced a spell upon it, carried it to her by way of a present. When they sat down to eat it, Sanak was almost suffocated, and presently his old mother likewise cried for water. Having got a drink, she recovered; Sanak, however, expired. When the widow re-entered the room, the eldest brother accused her of the deed, saying, "You only fed them to work their destruction—it is none but thou who hast killed them!" and, at the same time, he rose and rushed against the house-pillars, in order to shake it down and make it fall over her: but the widow replaced them quickly. Again he rose from his seat, and turning towards the widow herself, he quickly snatched off [p.232] the two points of her jacket—the one in front as well as the one behind. Little heeding this affront, she now ran out, and told her son that two of their adversaries had now been despatched. In the enjoyment of the happy event, they both bolted across the boat in great glee; however, the mother happened to break her back. When Kujanguak had got her indoors, she took some filth from beneath the place where her dead mother used to put all kinds of dirty refuse, and threw it out at the house of their enemies. This brought sickness upon them, from which all of them died excepting the sister, who turned kivigtok (i.e., one who has fled from mankind).

33. A LAMENTABLE STORY

[From one of the older manuscripts.]

AN old man had taken up his position on the ice watching the breathing-holes of the seals, in order to spear them as they appeared. Meanwhile some little girls were playing on shore in a cleft between some rocks, as usual, carrying their little baby sisters and brothers in the amowts (hoods) at their backs. Just as the old man was in the act of spearing a seal, the children happened to give a shout, and the terrified seal at once dived to the bottom. On this the old man got into a great passion, and cried out aloud, "Shut up, mountain-cleft!" and accordingly it closed upon all the playing children, who were not able to escape, but were now buried in a cavern, wide at the bottom, and narrow towards the top. [p.233] The babies soon began to cry for thirst, and the girls put their fingers into their mouths to suck at, trying to hush them by telling them, "When mother has finished soling the boots, she will come and suckle thee." At length the mothers came to the spot, and poured water down in the cleft. The water trickled along the walls, and they licked it up, and the mothers could very well see the children, but as it was impossible to get at them, all of them were starved.

34. UVIKIAK

[From one of the oldest manuscripts.]

UVIKIAK was travelling to the north, accompanied by one son and two daughters. Whenever he came to a favourable shore, the son kayaked ahead of them, and when the others came up to the spot they had fixed to land upon, he was already standing in waiting. They generally remained on land for the night, and travelled further the next day; in the evening the son roamed ahead, as usual, to await them ashore, but when they landed and looked for him he was not to be seen. They pushed off again, and having doubled a point of land and got into a bay, they saw his lifeless body, standing erect, pierced with sharp weapons beneath his arms, and his eyes covered with some of his entrails. At this sight his father groaned with despair, and left the place to get hold of the murderers. Some way off he observed some tents, and he went and asked, "Have ye seen no travellers pass by this way?" "To [p.234] be sure we have: yesterday a boat passed by; they were singing some kind of mock song about a young lad whose eyes had been covered with his entrails, and at which they laughed and scorned him." At this report the father was still more provoked; and always lamenting the lost one, they continued their journey of discovery, making inquiries at several other places, where they always got the same information, that a boat had newly passed by. Uvikiak still travelled on, with his wife and his two daughters, never now coming on shore in the night. At last they again reached some tents, and on making the usual inquiries, got the answer that a boat had lately passed by, the crew of which were singing very sadly about a young man they had killed; and the wrath of the old Uvikiak somewhat subsided at their [p.235] mild words. They continued their journey for several days without being able to sleep in the night for excitement; but at length they set foot on the spot where lived the murderers. They put in and landed somewhat at the back of their dwelling-place; and having got the boat on shore, placed it keel upwards, and gathered crowberry plants and grass to cover it up with. Uvikiak's wife betook herself under the boat, while he himself went away with his daughters across the isthmus. They soon heard a noise, and listening on one of the nearest hills, just above the spot where they used to have dancing and other games,—they heard distinctly that one of them was singing about Uvikiak's son. The song being finished, two young men came walking up-hill, flushed with heat and quite undressed. The new-comers at once inquired something about the singers. "It is our master," they answered; "he was just singing about a young man whom we happened to meet with down in the south, and killed—it was mighty amusing!" In a great rage, Uvikiak instantly seized the one of them, and the daughters the other. They soon got the better of both; and having killed them, put them in exactly the same position as that in which they had seen Uvikiak's son; after which they hid themselves at a little distance. They had not to wait long before they heard a cry of vengeance; but their hiding-place was not discovered; and they escaped without any harm, and then returned to their home in the south.

[p.236]

35. THE SUN AND THE MOON

[This tale, one of the few already mentioned by other authors on Greenland, has been translated from one of the oldest manuscripts.]

AN old married couple remained at home while their children travelled about all the summer. One day the wife was left alone as usual while the husband was out kayaking. On hearing something moving about close by, she hastened to hide beneath her coverlet, and after a little while, when she ventured to peep above it, she saw a little snow-bunting (Plectrophanes nivalis) hopping about on the floor and chirping, "Another one will soon enter, who is going to tell thee something." In a little while she was alarmed by a still greater noise; and looking up again, she beheld a kusagtak (another little bird—the wheat-ear—Saxicola œnanthe), likewise hopping on the floor and singing, "Somebody shall soon enter and tell thee something." It left the room, and was soon followed by a raven; but soon after it had gone she heard a sound like the steps of people, and this time she saw a very beautiful woman, who entered. On asking whence she came, the stranger told, "In bygone days we often used to assemble in my home to divert ourselves at different plays and games, and in the evening, when it was all ended, the young girls generally remained out, and the young men used to pursue and court us; but we could never manage to recognise them in the dark. One night I was curious to know the one who had chosen me, and so I went and daubed my hands with soot before I joined the others. When our play had come to an end, I drew my hands along his back, and left him, and was the first who entered the house. The young people came in, one after [p.237] another undressed, but for some time I observed no marks. Last of all my brother entered, and I saw at once that the back of his white jacket was all besmeared with soot. I took a knife, and sharpened it, and proceeded to cut off my two breasts, and gave him them, saying, 'Since my body seems to please thee, pray take these and eat them.' He now began to speak indecently to me, and courted me more than ever, and while we raced about the room he caught hold of some bad moss and lit it, but I took some that was good, and also lit mine. He ran out, and I ran after him; but suddenly I felt that we were lifted up, and soared high up in the air. When we got more aloft my brother's light was extinguished, but mine remained burning, and I had become a sun. Now I am on my way higher up the skies, that I may give warmth to the orphans (viz., going to make summer)." Finally she said, "Now close thy eyes." The woman turned her eyes downwards; but perceiving that she was about to leave the house, she gave her one look, and observed that at her back she was a mere skeleton. Soon after she had left the house the old husband returned.

NOTE.—Among the rare cases which we have of any Esk