Category: Inuit

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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Conflict with Authority: The narrative depicts the boys’ warnings being dismissed by the adults, highlighting a struggle against dismissive or unbelieving authority figures.

Trials and Tribulations: Kunuk and his brother face significant challenges, including the invasion of their home and the loss of their sister, testing their resilience and resourcefulness.

Revenge and Justice: The story may involve elements of seeking retribution or restoring order following the attack, reflecting themes of justice.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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.

► Continue reading…

One evening in winter, by moonlight, when they had 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 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 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 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 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 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 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-arrows [small harpoons with a bladder attached to the shaft, but without any line, and principally used for small animals] — 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 [pron. Unghilagtakee]. 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 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 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 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 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.

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The brothers visit their sister

Two brothers discover their long-lost sister living among cannibals in a southern land. Despite warnings, they journey to find her. Initially welcomed, they are horrified to witness her cannibalistic lifestyle, influenced by her husband. After a harrowing escape aided by the brother-in-law, they return home, narrowly avoiding death. Though they report the encounter, they never reunite with their sister again.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on two brothers discovering their long-lost sister living among cannibals, highlighting the complexities of familial relationships and the lengths to which family members will go to reunite.

Forbidden Realms: The brothers venture into a dangerous, unknown land inhabited by cannibals to find their sister, exploring the theme of entering forbidden or perilous territories.

Trials and Tribulations: The brothers face significant challenges and dangers in their quest to find and rescue their sister, reflecting the theme of overcoming obstacles in pursuit of a goal.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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 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.

► Continue reading…

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 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 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 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.

Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

A tale about two girls

Two girls playing with bones on a beach wished for husbands—a girl with eagle bones married an eagle, and the other with whale bones married a whale. The eagle girl escaped using bird sinews and a kayaker’s help, while the whale girl endured captivity until her brothers built a swift boat to rescue her. She eluded the pursuing whale, who ultimately turned into whalebone upon reaching the shore.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The girls’ marriages to an eagle and a whale introduce interactions with supernatural entities, highlighting the mystical elements of the narrative.

Conflict with Nature: The protagonists face challenges posed by natural forces—the eagle and the whale—symbolizing struggles against the natural world.

Family Dynamics: The involvement of the brothers in rescuing their sister underscores the importance of familial bonds and the lengths family members will go to protect one another.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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 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.

► Continue reading…

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 [Cyamus ceti, a parasitic crustacean, well known as the “whale louse.”] 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 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.

Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Katerparsuk

Katerparsuk, a poor orphan, faced ridicule and hardship but persevered to build his own kayak with primitive tools. Bullied by a cruel man disguised as a bear, he sought revenge by mastering magic and hunting skills. Transforming into a walrus, he cleverly humiliated his tormentor, reclaiming his pride and settling the score. His resilience turned adversity into triumph, showcasing the power of determination and ingenuity.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Katerparsuk’s journey from a ridiculed orphan to a skilled hunter, including his magical transformation into a walrus, highlights significant physical and personal changes.

Revenge and Justice: After being tormented by a man disguised as a bear, Katerparsuk seeks and achieves retribution, restoring his dignity and sense of justice.

Cunning and Deception: Katerparsuk employs cleverness and magical deception, particularly when he transforms into a walrus, to outsmart and humiliate his tormentor.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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.

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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 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; today I pursued a large walrus, but he escaped me, and took my bladder-float 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.

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The friends

Two inseparable childhood friends lived far apart, exchanging gifts of seals and reindeer to maintain their bond. A betrayal began when jealousy and spoiled provisions led to each poisoning the other’s offerings with corpse fat. The islander succumbed to madness, driven to cannibalism. Despite repeated near-fatal encounters, the fiord-dweller’s longing for his friend persisted until discovering him dead in isolation, marking the end of their tragic friendship.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The narrative centers on two childhood friends whose bond is ultimately destroyed by acts of treachery, highlighting the fragility of trust and the destructive power of envy.

Cunning and Deception: Both friends engage in deceitful practices, poisoning each other’s gifts with corpse fat, demonstrating how cunning actions can lead to dire consequences.

Tragic Flaw: The friends’ inability to overcome jealousy and their subsequent acts of betrayal serve as their tragic flaws, leading to madness, cannibalism, and the eventual demise of their relationship.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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 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.

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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 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 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 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 sieze 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.

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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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Quest: Akigsiak embarks on a perilous journey, defying his father’s warnings, to explore unknown territories.

Conflict with Nature: He confronts a formidable reptilian creature, symbolizing the challenges humans face against natural forces.

Transformation: Through his encounter and subsequent survival, Akigsiak undergoes a personal transformation, gaining respect and recognition among his people.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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.

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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 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 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 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.

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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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The old woman’s deceitful manipulation of Kumagdlat’s perception of his cousins drives the central conflict of the narrative.

Conflict with Authority: The tale reflects the challenges faced by the cousins as they navigate external threats and internal mistrust, leading to a breakdown in their previously harmonious relationship.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into the complexities of familial relationships, particularly how external influences and deceit can disrupt the bonds between close relatives.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

Three cousins named Kumagdlat, Asalok, and Merak were very fond of one another. Kumagdlat occupied a house by himself, and had his own boat [umiak, the larger skin-boat, fit for one to three families travelling with their tents, and all the other necessaries, for the summer season]. 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.

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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 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 today?” 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 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 have their abodes, and they are immensely rich. [Erkileks are a sort of fabulous beings — half men, half beasts. All sorts of inlanders in the Greenlandish tales represent fabulous or supernatural beings. The most common kind, and probably the inlanders in general, are called tornit (plural of tunek), which is what in the following pages we have translated by inlanders.] However, when any of the coast people go there they never return, being mostly 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 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 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 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).

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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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The wife employs clever tactics to deceive Igimarasugsuk, feigning compliance while plotting her escape.

Conflict with Authority: The wife challenges her husband’s tyrannical and murderous behavior, ultimately defying his control.

Trickster: Although traditionally associated with mischievous figures, the wife’s cunning behavior aligns with this theme as she uses wit to overcome danger.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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.

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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, 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: “kissugssuak pingerssuak, ia-ha-ha, arape, kupe, sipe, sipe sisaria.” And forthwith the timber opened midways, and she entered it, again singing, “kissugssuak… 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 kissugssuak, &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. 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?”

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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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The protagonist undergoes a significant change, regaining his sight after a period of blindness.

Family Dynamics: The narrative explores complex relationships within the family, highlighting the mother’s jealousy and the sister’s loyalty.

Trials and Tribulations: The blind man’s journey is marked by challenges, including his initial blindness and the subsequent hardships he faces, which he overcomes with determination and support from his sister.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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 barbata [or bearded seal — “the ground-seal” of the English sealers: also called a “thong-seal,” because the Eskimo cut their thongs and lines out of its hide]). On bringing it home, his mother wanted the skin for a ledge-cover, but he insisted on having it for making hunting-lines [line or thong attached with one end to the harpoon, with the other to the hunting-bladder, an inflated entire seal-skin, which prevents the harpooned seals running away].

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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, 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 (skin) window-pane, and next thrust its head into the room. [In modern times, most of the Eskimo huts in Danish Greenland have got glass window-panes; but through Eskimo-land generally, the semi-transparent entrail of some animal serves this purpose.] 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 hold of her garments; and all day long they wandered about, the sister occupied in gathering shrubs 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 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 whales [a large sort of dolphin, Beluga or Delphinus albicans, captured in great abundance in Greenland] 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 [the inflated skin or bladder attached to the line to bring up the animal, as well as the weapon when it has missed its mark and fallen into the sea.]. 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 more fond of thee than of her; thou art the only one I do love.” “Well, then, tomorrow 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 tomorrow; 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 narwals [Monodon monoceros] 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. 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. [People who fled from mankind in order to live in the desolate interior of Greenland were called kivigtoks, and believed to acquire supernatural qualities — such as clairvoyance, immense swiftness, and longevity.] 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 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.

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.”

Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

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.

Source: 
Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo 
by Henry Rink 
[William Blackwood and Sons] 
Edinburgh and London, 1875

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Kagsagsuk undergoes a significant change from a mistreated orphan to a powerful individual, highlighting themes of personal growth and metamorphosis.

Cunning and Deception: The tale illustrates how Kagsagsuk uses his newfound strength and cleverness to overcome those who previously oppressed him, showcasing the use of wit to achieve one’s goals.

Moral Lessons: The narrative imparts ethical teachings about the consequences of cruelty and the virtues of resilience and self-improvement.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

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 [or doorway, a long and very narrow, sometimes half-subterranean, tunnel, leading by an upward step to the main, or rather the only, room of the winter hut, and adapted to keeping out the cold air. Its ends we have called the outer and the inner entrance], 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.

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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!” 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 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 [men in their kayaks, or skin canoes, made for the purpose of seal-hunting, with room only for a single person] 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 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 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 away [take off the skin and blubber] 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 ledge has no cover,” cried another; “here is a nice seat for Kagsagsuk.” [The main ledge or bench; a low and broad bench for sitting and sleeping places, occupying the whole length of the wall opposite to the windows, the narrower side-ledge and window-ledge bordering the other walls. It is generally known in Greenland as the “brix.”] But rejecting their offers, he sat down, as usual, on the side-ledge. Some of them went 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.

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, 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.”

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