Tale of Ak-chik-chu-guk

The girl hesitated about going on account of the storm, and the brothers joined with her in trying to persuade the mother to give up the idea of having water brought at that time, but all to no purpose.

Then Ak-chik-chu-guk told the youngest brother to go and help his sister, and the pair left the house. After some difficulty in getting to the water hole they rested for a time, and then slowly filled the tub; when it was full they turned back and, with bowed heads, struggled toward the shore in the face of the wind. As they were moving along the path, they suddenly started back in tear, for, in place of the shore, they saw the black, open water in a rapidly widening crack where the ice had broken and was drifting away from the land. Dropping the water tub they ran wildly back and forth along the edge of the ice until they were exhausted. After waiting for some time, the people in the house became alarmed, and one of the brothers ran down to the shore where, by the open water, he saw what had taken place. He hastened back and told his family and, as soon as the storm ceased, the brothers searched the sea as far as they could, but saw nothing of the missing ones. Then one of the brothers traveled along the coast to the north and another went to the south, informing the villagers they met of their loss, but both returned without any tidings.

Spring came, and their mother told the brothers that they must search for their lost ones far along the coast, for it was likely that they had been driven on shore somewhere. The brothers then set to work to build a fine, large umiak; when it was finished they decided to try it before they started on their voyage. Launching the umiak the three younger brothers rowed while Ak-chik-chu-guk sat in the stern with the broad-blade steering paddle. They had gone only a short distance when a wild goose came flying by, and the three brothers strained their arms in trying to equal the bird in swiftness, but in vain. Suddenly Ak-chik-chu-guk raised the broad paddle and the first stroke caused the umiak to leap forward so suddenly that his brothers were thrown from their seats into the bottom of the boat; after this, he bound them firmly to their seats and had them take in their oars. Then, under his strokes, the umiak darted through the water like an arrow, throwing a streak of foam away on both sides. Very soon they were close along side the goose, and the bird tried hard to escape from its strange companions, but was quickly passed by the umiak and left far behind.

On another short preparatory trip they made along the coast they landed near a great rock. Ak-chik-chu-guk told his brothers to take up some small drift logs on the beach and follow him; then, taking up the rock, he placed it upon his shoulders and carried it up the shore, although his feet sank deep in the earth at every step, so heavy was his burden. At some distance from the water he stopped and had his brothers form a platform of their logs, on which he placed the stone, saying: “Now I will not be forgotten, for the people who come after us will point out this rock and remember my name;” and this is true, for the villagers say that the rock lies there until this day and Ak-chik-chu-guk’s name is not forgotten.

Then the brothers returned home and completed their preparations for the journey. When everything was ready, Ak-chik-chu-guk had his brothers remove all their clothing and, taking his knife, with a single stroke he cut off the head of each. Alter this he made their mother carry the bodies outside and dismember them, putting the fragments into a great earthen pot, where they were boiled. At first his mother refused, but Ak-chik-chu-guk compelled her to obey him. When she had done as she was bid, she came in and told him; then, ordering her to remain in the house and upon no account to come out side until he gave her permission, he went out and, by the aid of a powerful inua that did his bidding, restored his brothers to life again.

When all her sons entered the house alive once more, the mother was very glad. At the bidding of Ak-chik-chu-guk she put some decayed fish roe and some bird-skin coats into the umiak, and they started on their search, leaving their parents alone. The brothers journeyed on until they reached a large village, where they stopped, and, going into the kashim, asked for tidings of their sister.

The people answered in an unfriendly way, and soon after one of the villagers cried out, “We must kill these men,” and everyone seized his weapons and started toward the brothers. Ak-chik-chu-guk seemed not to notice the treacherous villagers until they were close to him; then, raising his right arm and placing the elbow against his side, drew the entire arm into his body; as he did this everyone of the villagers was compelled to do the same, and they stood helpless, without the use of their right arms.

“Why do you not kill us? Why do you wait?” and similar mocking taunts were directed to them by Ak-chik-chu-guk. When the villagers had promised to let them go in peace, he thrust forth his own arm again, and at once everyone of the villagers was able to do the same; the people then told them that they might hear of their sister in the next village.

After journeying for several days they came to the village and went into the kashim, where again they made inquiries for their sister. As before, the people answered in an unfriendly tone and rushed at the strangers to kill them. Ak-chik-chu-guk paid no attention to his enemies until they were close to him, when he suddenly closed both eyes and the villagers were forced to do the same, after which he taunted them as he had taunted the men at the other village, then made them promise not to try to injure himself or his brothers, and restored their sight by opening his own eyes. These people told them that possibly they might get tidings at the next village, so the brothers went on.

When they reached that place they made inquiry, and, as at the other villages, the people wished to kill them, and were quite near the brothers with their weapons raised when Ak-chik-chu-guk put his hands on each side of his face and turned his head about on his shoulders so that his face looked backward. Instantly the heads of all the villagers turned around on their shoulders and the backs of their heads rested where their faces should have been, while their bodies were in the position of rushing forward. On getting the usual promise from them, Ak-chik-chu-guk replaced the villagers heads, and the brothers were directed to make inquiries at the next place.

In that village they were attacked again, and the villagers were forced to put their hands behind their backs by the strong magic of the elder brother. Here the people told the brothers that their sister was in the next village, but that she was the wife of a very powerful and wicked shaman, and they tried to keep the brothers from going on, saying that harm would come to them if they did. No heed was given to this, and they went on until they came in sight of the village.

There they stopped while Ak-chik-chu-guk smeared his hands and face with the decayed fish roe and changed his fine deerskin clothing for the old bird-skin garments his mother had put in the boat. Then he coiled himself up in the bottom of the boat, bending down his shoulders until he looked like a feeble old man. His brothers were instructed what to do, and, rowing on, they soon landed at the village. Then the brothers started to carry Ak-chik-chu-guk into the village, when they were met by several people, among whom was the bad shaman. He asked them why they carried with them such a miserable old man; to which they replied that he did not belong to them, but they had found him on the shore and brought him along with them.

Asking about their sister, they were told that they could see her when they had carried the old man in the kashim. Ak-chik-chu-guk was placed in the kashim, where they left him lying apparently helpless. Then they were taken to another house and shown a young woman dressed in fine furs, and were told that she was their sister. The two elder brothers believed this, but the youngest one was suspicious of some wrong, but said nothing and went back to the kashim with the others.

When the brothers were inside the kashim, the shaman went down to the beach, where he untied the lashings of the umiak, rolled the framework up in the cover, and hid it. When night fell and everyone was asleep, the youngest brother crept out and went to the shaman’s house. In the passageway he heard a hoarse, choking sound, and at first was frightened, but soon felt stronger and asked, “Who is there?” No reply came, and he went forward carefully until he reached the door beyond which he had heard the strange sound. He listened a moment, and then pushed the door open and went in.

There on the floor lay his sister dressed in coarse, heavy sealskins and bound hand and foot, with a cord drawn tightly about her neck and another fastened her tongue. Very quickly she was released, and then told him that the wicked shaman had kept her in this way and treated her very cruelly; her brother put his hand on her breast and found her so emaciated that the bones were almost through the skin. Leaving her there, he closed the door and soon brought the next elder brother to the girl; after which both went back and, awakening the others, told them what they had seen.

After this all the brothers kept awake and watchful until morning. As dawn appeared the bad shaman came to the window in the roof and cried out, “Now it is time to kill those strangers.” Going into the kashim, he sent a man for a large, sharp-edge piece of whalebone, while he had another take away loose planks from the middle of the floor, which left a square open pit several feet deep, and about the edge of this the shaman bound upright the piece of whalebone with the sharp edge. The brothers were then challenged to wrestle with him. Ak-chik-chu-guk whispered that they should wrestle with him without fear, as he had killed and restored them to life again before leaving home, so that men could not harm them.

One of the brothers stepped forward, and after a short struggle the shaman stooped quickly, caught the young man by the ankles, and raising him from the floor with a great swing, brought him down so that his neck was cut off across the edge of the whalebone. Casting the body to one side, the shaman repeated the challenge and killed the second brother in the same way. Again the shaman made his scornful challenge, but scarcely had he finished speaking when Ak-chik-chu-guk wiped the fish roe from his face and hands, and with a wrench tore the bird-skin coat from his body and sprang up as a powerful young man with anger shining in his eyes.

When the shaman saw this sudden change he started back, with his heart growing weak within him; he could not escape, however, and very soon Ak-chik-chu-guk caught him in his arms, pressed in his sides until the blood gushed from his mouth, and, stooping, caught him by the ankles and whirled him over his head and across the whale bone, cutting his neck apart; then he brought the body down again and it fell in two. Throwing aside the fragment in his hand, he turned to the frightened villagers and said, “Is there any relative, brother, father, or son of this miserable shaman who thinks I have done wrong? If there is, let him come forward and take revenge.”

The villagers eagerly expressed their joy at the shaman’s death, as they had been in constant fear of him, and he had killed every stranger who came to their village. Then Ak-chik-chu-guk sent everyone out of the kashim, and soon, by help of his magic, restored his two brothers to life; after this they went out and released their sister, and clothed her in fine new garments. She told them of her long drifting on the ice with her brother and of their landing near Uni-a’shuk [a village near St Lawrence bay, on the Siberian shore of Bering strait], the village at which they then were; also how the shaman had killed her brother and kept her a prisoner.

The brothers were now treated so kindly by the people in the village that they lingered there from day to day until a considerable time had elapsed, during which two of them made fine bows and quivers full of arrows, and another made a strong, stone-head spear. One day nearly all the men were gathered in the kashim when the youngest brother hurried in and said that the sea was covered with umiaks, so that the flashing of their paddles looked like falling rain drops in the sun. The villagers told the brothers that the umiaks were from a neighboring place and that the men in them meant no harm to the people of Uni-a’shuk, but were coming to kill the strangers. Hearing this, Ak-chik-chu-guk told the villagers to stay within their houses and sent his brothers out to meet the enemy. The umiaks soon came to the shore and a fierce battle ensued. The umiak men tried in vain to kill or wound the brothers, while the latter killed many of them. Finally the youngest brother returned to the kashim, saying that his arrows were exhausted, but that their enemies were nearly all dead. Soon afterward the next younger brother came in and said that all his arrows were gone and only a few of the enemy were left. He had scarcely finished speaking when the third brother came in, his spear all bloody, and told them that only one man had been spared to carry home news of the fate of his comrades. Going out the villagers saw the shore covered with the dead men and were astonished, but they said nothing.

Still the brothers lingered, disliking to begin the long homeward journey, and at last another fleet of umiaks, larger than the first, bearing the friends and relatives of the men slain in the first battle, came in sight; these, the villagers said, were people coming for blood revenge. Again Ak-chik-chu-guk sent all of the villagers to their homes, telling them not to leave their houses. When they were gone he sat side by side with his brothers in the kashim and awaited the enemy.

The umiaks came to the shore very quickly, and the warriors, fully armed, hurried to the kashim to seek their victims, coming in such numbers that the last had hard work to get into the house. The brothers sat still in the midst of their enemies, who became quiet when they were all in the house and seemed to be waiting for something. In a few moments two extremely old women came in, each carrying a small grass basket in her hands. One of them sat quietly in a corner while the warriors made room for the other to come up in front of the brothers. She looked at them with an evil eye and drew from the basket a finger bone of one of the men killed in the first battle, setting it up on the floor in front of the youngest brother; then taking out a human rib, she looked fixedly at the young man and struck the bone with the rib, saying at the same time, “He is dead.” Instantly the young man fell over from his seat dead. Quickly she placed the second bone in front of another brother and he, too, fell dead from his seat. At this Ak-chik-chu-guk uttered a cry of anger, and springing upon the witch, before anyone could move, caught both her hands and crushed them to a shapeless mass. Then he caught up her basket and scattered about him in a circle all the finger bones it contained. Without a moment’s delay he took the rib and striking the bones as quickly as possible, repeated, “He is dead. He is dead. He is dead.” And his enemies fell as he moved until not one of them was left alive. Then he exercised his magic power and restored his brothers to life again, after which the villagers were called in. When the latter came and saw the kashim filled with dead men, they were full of fear and told the brothers that so many people had been killed by them that they feared to have them remain there any longer.

The brothers consented to go, and preparing their umiak, they embarked with their sister. Just as they were leaving, the villagers told them to be sure to stop and build a large fire on the beach as soon as they came in sight of their native village. They traveled slowly back as they had come, and finally they were pleased to see their village just ahead of them. At this time the sister was walking along the shore with a dog, towing the boat by means of a long, walrus-hide line. When she saw the houses she remembered the directions of the villagers about building a fire when they came in sight of their home, and reminded her brothers of it, but Ak-chik-chu-guk was eager to complete the journey, and said impatiently, “No, no, we will not trouble ourselves to do that; I wish to hurry home.” When the sister turned and started to go OH she had scarcely taken a step forward when her feet felt so heavy that she could not raise them. She shrieked in fear, and said, “My feet feel as if they were becoming stone.” As she spoke she changed into stone from head to foot. Then the same change occurred with the dog, and out along the line to the boat, changing it and its occupants into stone. There until this day, as a rocky ledge, is the boat where it stopped, the brothers facing their home, and a slender reef running to the land where the towline dropped, while on shore are the stony figures of the girl and the dog.

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