The girl who fled to the inlanders

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

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 young maiden faces harsh punishment from her elder sister for breaking a precious needle, leading to her exile.

Supernatural Beings: The maiden encounters and marries an “inlander,” a term referring to a mythical or supernatural being in the context of the tale.

Cultural Heroes: The story provides insights into the customs and interactions between the Eskimo and the inlanders, highlighting foundational figures and societal norms.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


There was once a young maiden who happened to break her elder sister’s needle, which was made of reindeer-horn and was very precious. The sister got dreadfully angry with her, although she lived in great prosperity, being well married. So angry was she, that she told her sister she might as well take herself off, and henceforth keep away from the coast-people. The girl at once obeyed, and wandered about the country for many a day. One night when she was sitting down on a stone crying, she heard a voice beside her saying, “Why dost thou cry thus?” and turning round, she saw a very tall man, whom she recognised to be an inlander (viz., fabulous people), standing beside her.

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


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Sikutluk

Sikutluk and his cousin, once close, faced tragedy after the cousin goaded Sikutluk into killing his dog, then took offense, prompting Sikutluk to fatally shoot him. Consumed by bloodlust, Sikutluk and his wife roamed, killing animals, including mythical creatures like amaroks and a kilivfak. His dangerous path led to his demise, devoured by a kilivfak. His wife lived on among foreigners until her death.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: Sikutluk’s descent from a loving cousin to a bloodthirsty wanderer represents a profound change in his character.

Tragic Flaw: His susceptibility to his cousin’s provocation and subsequent actions highlight a fatal weakness leading to his downfall.

Supernatural Beings: Encounters with mythical creatures like the amarok and kilivfak are central to the narrative.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Sikutluk and his cousin were living together, and loved each other dearly. At that settlement the cousin was the only one who possessed a dog. One day Sikutluk observed his cousin sitting before his tent doing some work, the dog beside him. When he came close up to him the cousin suddenly said, “Pray, shoot my dog.” “No, I won’t, because we are friends.” But the cousin still persuaded him, saying, “Pray do it, nevertheless.” He brought his bow accordingly; but not yet satisfied, he again inquired, “But wilt thou not really get vexed when it is too late?” “No, indeed, I shall not;” and the other killed the dog.

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The cousin, however, took offence for all that, and challenged his friend, saying, “He had a mind to kill him at once.” But Sikutluk shot him right through the breast, and he fell down dead. Immediately after this, Sikutluk went and covered his cousin’s boat and tent all over with heavy stones, and left the place along with his wife; but the murder he had committed had made him thirst for blood, and he went on intending to kill whatever he met with. At first he was content with killing ptarmigan and reindeer. They both brought with them as many arrows as they were able to carry. After a while they fell in with an amarok [fabulous animal originating in traditions of the wolf]. They first discovered the young ones, but towards evening the mother arrived with a young buck in her mouth. From their retreat they noticed her dropping the burden on finding that her young ones were killed; and then sniffing the air, she followed the scent of human beings, and with a fearful howl came running on towards them at full speed. The woman screamed, “I fear she will devour us!” but he made no other reply than, “Ah, my cousin, my beloved cousin, I murdered thee!” and he crept forth from his ambush, aimed at the beast, and killed it on the spot. They hid themselves again, and soon afterwards saw the male return, also carrying a buck between his teeth. After the same words, “Alas, my cousin, my beloved cousin!” he shot this one also. They still wandered on and on, and killed everything living they met with on their way. One day the woman caught sight of a kilivfak [a fabulous animal], which stood scratching the earth with its feet. When the husband had also seen it, he first went to look out for a hole in the earth close by, where he ordered his wife to go and hide, and remain quiet till he should let himself down to her. He now stole down to encounter the animal. Whenever it turned to look round he bent down to the ground; but when it stood scratching the earth, he crept on towards it. At last he had got quite close, and ventured a shot at it, and then hurried back and let himself fall down to his wife. After him came the wild beast tumbling down into the cave, where it entirely filled up the opening; but after much toil they got out again. They continued roaming further away; and in crossing the glaciers he carried his wife across the crevasses. At length he again reached the sea, and at the same time observed a kayaker close by. This man said he would take them to his own place if he would wait a little while he brought a boat for them; but the crew of the boat were all men. They took up with these people; but soon found out that they had come among erkileks [fabulous inlanders]. One day Sikutluk told his wife that he would return and look for some of their kinsmen, and named a certain time by which they expected to be back; but in vain they waited for him. When the appointed time had elapsed, they promised an angakok a great reward if he could tell what had befallen the traveller. After some meditation he replied, “I observed he killed a pair of amaroks with their brood.” The wife acknowledged it. “And a female kilivfak besides?” “Indeed he did so.” “Then be assured the male beast devoured him.” But the wife of Sikutluk lived on with the foreigners until the time of her death.


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The lonely brothers

Two brothers living alone encountered a mysterious woman while kayaking. Initially elusive, she chose to stay with the younger brother, helping them prosper. She bore a child but later grew silent, longing to visit her family. Journeying to her homeland, she reunited with her kin amidst joy and challenges. After showcasing their strength and learning new hunting methods, the brothers returned home with her, vanishing from her family’s lives.

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 mysterious woman who appears and disappears exhibits supernatural qualities, suggesting she may not be entirely human.

Transformation: The brothers’ lives transform from solitude to prosperity after the woman’s arrival, indicating a significant change in their circumstances.

Quest: The journey to the woman’s homeland represents a quest, involving travel, challenges, and the goal of reuniting her with her family.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


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

Two brothers had taken up their abode at a fiord; there they lived alone, and having no female assistance, they were obliged to cook and make their garments themselves. One day when they were out kayaking, they passed a little rocky point, and turning their eyes landwards, they observed a woman standing on the beach. The eldest brother now said he would go and fetch her, and with this view he went ashore; but when he approached her she fled, at first slowly, till, when he commenced to run, she hurried on so that he gave her up and returned to his kayak. The younger brother now ascended the beach, and as he approached she stood quiet, making no resistance, but let him take her down.

They fastened the kayaks together with strings, and when she was seated behind the men, she said to the eldest brother, “I observed thy intention to be bad, so I fled; but thy brother there has a better disposition.” They now paddled homewards, all the time keeping a sharp look-out upon her. But it happened that they left off watching her for a moment; and instantly they heard a clattering noise, and there she was gone.

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


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

Namak

Namak, an orphan raised by a taunting foster father, grew strong and skilled with a sling, driven by vengeance for his parents’ murder. His foster father’s provocations sharpened his resolve and strength, culminating in the destruction of his enemies’ boats. Later, Namak continued his quest for revenge alongside his son, asserting dominance through cunning and physical prowess, ultimately embodying the strength born of adversity and unresolved conflict.

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


► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: Namak’s journey is driven by a desire to avenge his parents’ murder, seeking retribution against their killers.

Trials and Tribulations: Throughout his life, Namak faces numerous challenges, including taunts from his foster father and the need to develop his strength and skills to confront his enemies.

Cunning and Deception: Namak employs clever tactics, such as feigning weakness to conceal his growing strength, ultimately using his cunning to achieve his goals.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


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

The parents of Namak were both killed by their house-fellows; and while he was as yet but a weak and helpless child, a man happened to take pity on him and adopted him for his son. But this same foster-father was fond of worrying the boy, and inventing stories to frighten and excite him. Sometimes, when the child was asleep, he would cry out, “Namak, thy enemies have come to kill thee, too.” At first he was much alarmed, but by degrees he got used to it. But sometimes his foster-father would say, “Ah, how forgetful that Namak is! Here are his parents newly murdered, and he forgetting all about it.” At this, Namak would get into a great rage. When he was still a child, his father one day made him a present of a sling, saying, “I don’t mean to give thee a kayak, because I believe that thy enemies will kill thee for all that; but take this sling and practise with it.”

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

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


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The reindeer-hunt of Merkisalik

Merkisalik, an aging hunter, relied on his son to provide for their family. Visitors arrived, disrupting their peaceful life and mocking his son’s hunting abilities. Despite his patience, the son retaliated by outsmarting them during a hunt. Later, his death, caused by the visitors’ malice, left Merkisalik and his wife devastated. Seeking revenge, Merkisalik created a tupilak, a magical creature, which methodically avenged his son by destroying their enemies.

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


► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: After the tragic death of his son due to the visitors’ malice, Merkisalik seeks retribution by creating a tupilak, a magical creature, to avenge his son’s death.

Cunning and Deception: Merkisalik’s son, initially marginalized by the visitors during the hunts, cleverly outsmarts them, showcasing his wit and resourcefulness.

Supernatural Beings: The creation of the tupilak—a mystical entity—highlights the involvement of supernatural elements in the narrative, reflecting the spiritual beliefs of the Inuit culture.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


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

Merkisalik had only one son to assist him in providing for his family. In the summer-time they always used to hunt along the shores of the same fiord without any other company. Growing old and infirm, Merkisalik at length had to give up hunting and leave the providing to his son. Once when they had again taken up their abode at the fiord, and the son, as was his wont, had gone out hunting, the old people were left by themselves, expecting no visitors. Taking a turn outside the tent, they suddenly observed a boat sailing up the inlet right before the wind, accompanied by several kayakers. Merkisalik was much pleased at this sight, and ordered his wife to put out some dry meat, to let them have a bite on landing. He rejoiced to think that his son should henceforth have companions on his hunting excursions.

► Continue reading…

There were a great number of men among the visitors, some of whom were old and rather talkative and entertaining. When the son returned from the mountains, he was likewise very glad of the company they had got. He treated them with the utmost hospitality, and invited them to partake of the meal as soon as it was boiled and ready. Meanwhile they all conversed very politely, and soon agreed in going out together the next day. They did so, and before long came in sight of a number of animals feeding on the grass down in the valleys. When the drivers were all sent out, the hunters proceeded to make walls of earth, furnished with loopholes. The visitors now proposed that Merkisalik’s son should be the last to shoot, and he agreed; but when the drivers had surrounded the animals, and began to drive them on towards the loopholed walls, the thought struck him, “What if they are too greedy to leave me any chance at all?” Meanwhile the others took aim, and shot all that were to be got. He afterwards assisted them in stripping off the skins; but on their descending the hills towards the tents, he remained a little behind. When the strangers returned they at once set their women to cook and prepare a meal, to which Merkisalik and his people were invited. During supper one of the men remarked, “There must be any amount of animals in this place, since even Merkisalik’s son is capable of getting at them.” The Merkisaliks heard this slight in silence; but afterwards, when they got into their own tent and sat down together, the father said, “It can’t be otherwise; we must just let them have their way, seeing that they are so many.” The following day was spent in the same manner; they treated Merkisalik’s son as they had done the day before, only allowing him to take up his position as far away as possible from the drivers: but on their way home he again kept back a little. Before long, however, he rejoined them, and on their return home the Merkisaliks were again invited to eat of the day’s hunt. The man who the day before had scorned Merkisalik’s son, now spoke to him in a similar fashion, at which he got into a great passion. However, they set out together the next day, and got to the entrance of a great valley, which appeared to be almost overcrowded with reindeer. As before, they ordered him to choose his hiding-place, and make his loophole behind them all, at which he murmured to himself, “If this is to go on, I shall never be able to get anything. I think I will give the beasts the alarm, that they may all run away.” When the flock approached, driven by the drivers, he feigned to be busy about something or other. At last he was warned to be quiet, that the animals might not see him; but he only stopped a moment, and then began to move about again. In the mean time the flock was close by, when, all of a sudden, the leader stopped short, turned round, and bounded off as fast as possible. On perceiving this, the others began to follow him, but dropped short one after another, so that at the other end of the valley but one of them had kept up with him, and this one soon tired out; and when he was about to mount the slope he was left quite alone. Merkisalik’s son shortly disappeared on the other side of the hills, pursuing the fast-running animals. Slowly the men followed in his traces: but when they got to the top of the hill, they beheld numbers of deer with white bellies ready killed in the valley on the other side; and on a stone close by, the huntsman was seated, already quite cool and refreshed. The others now arrived, their faces all red with heat and wrath, and nobody spoke. They at once set to work, stripping the deer; but while the others finished one, he stripped and cut up two, and packing his bundle, he said, “Ye may all of you take as much as ye like.” The man who had formerly ridiculed and mocked him did not altogether like this speech, but became quite mute, and would not join the rest. On the way home they separated. Merkisalik’s son had now got into his old ways, and was in front of the rest. Carrying his burden on his back, and now and then resting himself a little, he got home first of all. When the others came without anything, the Merkisaliks had already all their pots and pans on the fire, and, after their wont, invited the foreigners to join them. During the meal the host tried to begin a conversation, but without success; they all remained mute, and even their old father kept silent. Having done eating, they retired, excepting the father, who now began to be a little talkative, and, as if by chance, remarked, “We want something that would do for a gimlet; would ye mind letting me have that knuckle?” Merkisalik gave it to him willingly, saying, “We have got lots of them.” On the following morning the Merkisaliks were aroused by a clattering noise, as of poles, and peeping out, they saw the visitors pulling down their tent and preparing to depart. Thus they were once more alone; and their son again went out hunting all by himself. One day, when he was still busy bringing down the deer he had stalked to their station, he told them that he had got a swelling at his knee. It grew in size, and was getting worse and worse. The parents were much distressed, and at length he died, but not till he had made known to them that his disease was solely caused by the father of their former visitors, who, in order to hurt him, had bewitched the knee-joint he had asked of them, which had worked back upon him and killed him. The poor old people were inconsolable. It was now autumn; the little lakes began to be covered with ice, and it was time to leave the inland country for the sea-coast: so one fine morning they made preparations to go. They first wept at the tomb of their son, and, still wailing and complaining, they went down the firth with a light easterly breeze. Having arrived at their winter-quarters, Merkisalik’s mind was filled with hatred, and he was always contemplating revenge. In order to carry it out, he resolved to make a tupilak to destroy his enemies. To this end he every day collected bones of all sorts of animals, and put them into the brook close by to whiten, and then mixed them up with hairs taken from boat-skins; and when he had got as many as he required, he made them alive, and put them into the brook which flowed on to the sea. While he was watching the tupilak, he saw it was taking the shape of an agpaliarsuk [the smallest auk, Mergulus alle], that dived down and turned round to its owner; but he said, “Thou art not the thing I want thee to be yet.” Instantly it dived down and reappeared in the shape of a dovekie [Uria grylle]. Again he said, “That won’t do neither.” It underwent many changes and took the shape of all sorts of birds; but he rejected them all. Then it was transformed into all manner of seals and dolphins; but they did not suit him either. At last, after another dive beneath the surface of the water, its breath was heard like a mighty roar, and he beheld a small whale, and then he said, “This will do; thou shalt avenge us.” The animal now seemed to inquire, “Where am I to go?” and he replied, “To the hunting place of the many brothers.” At these words it took one long breath, then dived down into the sea; and the man returned home and bided his time, waiting to hear how the family would fare who lived a little to the north of them. One evening a kayaker appeared rounding the northern point, and in him he soon recognised a poor relative and very old man, who for some time had had his quarters at the same place as their former visitors. On their way from the beach up to the house, he related what follows: “Some days ago an accident occurred up at our place; one of the many brothers has not returned home. The day before his departure he told us that he had harpooned a little whale, adding that he would now go out in search of it; but he has never yet returned.” The maker of the tupilak feigned compassion, saying, “He must, of course, have managed awkwardly somehow;” but inwardly he rejoiced at this intelligence. When the visitor departed, he asked him soon to return, but he did not do so for a good long while. When at length he did come, he again reported: “Yesterday the same accident happened to another of the brothers.” When the visitor was about to depart, Merkisalik encouraged him soon to return, saying, “We are always glad to see thee; now come back as soon as thou canst.” After another long interval he once came back, and told them that the last of the brothers had now disappeared, adding that the poor parents were very much grieved because of their bereavement. On hearing this, Merkisalik’s wrath was somewhat appeased.


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Sitliarnat

Three brothers, led by Sitliarnat, became stranded on an iceberg during a storm and drifted to a mysterious land. They encountered an old couple and stayed for years, aided by the old man and his son. Guided by their animal amulets, the brothers returned home with the old man transforming into a bear to assist them. Gratitude ensured their prosperity, with descendants honoring the bear’s memory.

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


► Themes of the story

Quest: The brothers embark on an unintended journey after being stranded on an iceberg, leading them to a mysterious land where they seek sustenance and a way back home.

Supernatural Beings: The old man who transforms into a bear to assist the brothers represents an interaction with a supernatural entity, guiding them safely back to their homeland.

Transformation: The old man’s metamorphosis into a bear signifies a physical transformation, highlighting themes of change and adaptation within the narrative.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


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

There were three brothers, the eldest of whom was named Sitliarnat. One day they all went out hunting on the frozen sea, accompanied by a person who was in no way related to them. All of a sudden a south-east storm arose, the ice creaked and gave way beneath their feet, and nothing remained to them but to mount an iceberg. Having got there, they drifted far away out on the great ocean. They were nearly starving with hunger when they at length touched upon an unknown shore and landed there. They now went roaming about the country in search of people, and passed an isthmus on which they observed a little hut with only one window. Sitliarnat then spoke, “Let them make me their first prize;” and he went on and crossed the threshold in front of his companions.

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Inside the house they only found an old couple, who seemed to be its sole inhabitants. The four strangers seated themselves on the ledge; but finding that nobody spoke, the old man began to eye them more closely, and having breathed upon them, asked them, “Whence do you come?” Sitliarnat answered him, “Some time ago we set off from the land on the other side of the ocean, and went out on the ice to catch seals; but a gale from the south-east came on, breaking up the ice and drifting us across to your country. So here we are; three of us are brothers, and the fourth is a companion of ours.” Turning to his wife the old man observed, “After travelling so far people are apt to get hungry,” upon which they added some words which the people did not understand. The wife fetched some blubber in a pan, put it on to boil, and gave it them served up in a wooden dish; but though they were almost fainting with hunger, they only tasted a very little of it. Soon after, however, a proper meal was set before them, and then the old man said to them, “Our only provider is staying away a long time; we have been expecting him back this last month. He left us to go out hunting, and has not yet returned; we are much afraid he may have encountered some wicked people and have come to grief.” While he was thus speaking, the guests began to think, “What sort of people may these be?” Meanwhile the visitors stayed on, and for some time the old man provided food for them. One morning, when they were all sitting together, they heard a voice calling from without, “I want to get in; do let me get in!” whereat the old man rose from his seat and went outside, but soon returned holding his son by the hand, who was looking very pale and haggard. After supper he lay down on the side ledge, and remained thus for several days, until one morning when he rose up very early. He had now recovered his health and strength as well as his appetite, and had regained his former aspect also, and again took up his task as provider of the household; but strange to say, he was never seen to carry any weapons. The visitors meanwhile prolonged their stay for several years; and one evening the old man, addressing the eldest brother, questioned him, “What did they give thee for thy amulet when thou wert born?” Sitliarnat replied, “In my infancy I got a carrion-gull, one of those that always seek the carrion farthest out to sea.” On hearing this, the old man responded, “So thou mayst be sure of returning to thy own country at some time or other.” One of the brothers now put in, “All of us have got the same bird for our amulets;” but when the stranger was asked, he told them that his was a raven, a bird that always seeks his prey landward; on which the old man replied, “I doubt if thou wilt ever see thy country again, if it is so.” The old man used to rise the earliest of them all, and when the others at length came out, he was always seen to be on some mountain-top, marking the state of the air and the weather. He one day entered with this remark, “When the wind goes down and the weather gets settled, I shall take you across.” But they wondered, and said, “How will he manage to carry us yonder, as there is no ice at present, and neither boats nor kayaks are to be seen hereabouts, and we don’t even know in what direction our country is situated?” One morning when they were still fast asleep, he cried, “It is no time for sleeping now. Make haste and get up, if ye really long for your homes; I shall see you along myself:” and they now rose as quickly as possible, and followed him down to the steep shore, where they had landed years ago. Here the old man said, “Now watch me!” Then taking a run, he leapt into the sea, dived down, and reappeared in the shape of a bear, saying, “If Sitliarnat really has a gull for his amulet, it will soon appear to him. Do as I have done, and throw thyself into the water.” Sitliarnat, however, still lingered a little; but the bear went on, “If thou dost not follow me into the ocean, thou wilt never get home.” Sitliarnat now ran on and took the leap; and as soon as he had plunged down, he again rose and merely touched the surface with his feet, gliding along as if he were on solid ice, instead of being on the waves of the sea. At the same time the gull also made its appearance, and a large iceberg was seen which he climbed, both his brothers following him. The old man now turned to the fourth, saying, “Thou, too, wouldst like to return, I know; now try thy wings!” He, too, plunged into the sea, trying to fly, but went right down instead, and would have lost breath but for the bear, who put him on shore, saying, “No, thou wilt never get home, because thou hast got a raven for thy amulet; thou canst return to my house as before.” The bear now spoke to the three, “Shut your eyes and sit close together. If ye open your eyes, ye will never get home. I shall now put my shoulder to the iceberg, and push you away.” Presently their place of refuge began to shake beneath them, and they had started on their journey. Thus they moved onwards until they at last felt a quake as if they were touching something hard. Here the bear ordered them to open their eyes, and they beheld a country spreading before them, and recognised it as their own. They had landed just a little south of what had been their former habitation. They asked the bear to enter, that they might recompense him in some way or other; but he said, “No, I don’t care for being paid — I merely intended to do you a good turn; but when in winter-time ye should happen to see a bear with a bald head, and your companions prepare to hunt him down, then try to make them desist, and put some food before him.” After these words he plunged into the sea, and instantly disappeared. The brothers now went up to their former house, and knew it to be inhabited because of some little boys who were seen at play outside. These children had been named after them by their parents, in remembrance of their lost friends. Their wives had all married again; but their other relatives rejoiced greatly at receiving those whom they had given up for lost a long time ago. Inquiries were also made about their companion, but they answered that they had left him “on the opposite shore.” Perceiving that the husbands of their own former wives feared them, they reassured them, saying, “We don’t intend any harm towards you. Many thanks to you that ye have provided so well for our relatives.” But the wives, nevertheless, were given back to them. During the winter the bear was almost forgotten, till one evening, when they were all at home, some of the men exclaimed, “A bear is making for the shore!” When they were collecting their arms, the brothers interfered, crying, “Just wait a little; we must first have a look at him.” They instantly recognised their own bear, and said to the others, “Without his good aid we should never have reached home again. Don’t hunt that bear; make haste and give him a feast.” When the bear had got on shore, he went right up to the house, sat down on his haunches before the entrance, his head turned towards it. The people put several entire seals before him, and beckoned him to eat; and all the men gathered round him. When the meal was ended, the bear lay down to sleep, while the children played round him. After a while he awoke, and having eaten a little more, he arose, and following his own traces back to the beach, leapt into the sea, and was never seen any more. It is said that the descendants of Sitliarnat were very prosperous and multiplied greatly.


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Angutisugsuk

Three brothers, skilled hunters led by Angutisugsuk, face conflict after aiding their starving community. Old sorcerers cast spells on Angutisugsuk’s home, sowing discord upon his return. Domestic tensions escalate, leading to violent familial strife. Angutisugsuk, feared for his strength, is ambushed and killed by his kin. Regret follows as his brother mourns the loss, reflecting on the once generous man destroyed by vengeance and manipulation.

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 brothers’ initial act of sharing resources challenges the established norms, leading to resentment from the elders.

Cunning and Deception: The elders’ use of sorcery to incite discord exemplifies deceit leading to tragic outcomes.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into complex familial relationships, highlighting how external manipulation can lead to internal strife and tragedy.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


There were three brothers, the eldest of whom was called Angutisugsuk. They had never lived apart; and all of them were clever hunters, especially Angutisugsuk. One winter the weather was dreadfully severe, and all the neighbours were in great want. Only the three brothers had enough to spare, and the others claimed their assistance. It so happened that two old men came to them with that intention; and during their visit the wife of Angutisugsuk remonstrated, saying that they were having rather too many visitors about the place, at which the old men quickly took offence.

► Continue reading…

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


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The lost daughter

An old woman lived with her three children: two sons and a daughter. When the daughter mysteriously disappeared, the brothers searched in vain. She later returned briefly, revealing a monstrous reptile child and a non-human husband. Enraged, the brothers found and killed the reptile husband, bringing their sister home. However, she soon relapsed into strange behavior, ultimately disappearing again, leaving her family broken and despairing.

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 daughter’s husband is a monstrous reptile, indicating an interaction with a non-human entity.

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on the relationships within a family, highlighting the brothers’ love for their sister and their reaction to her mysterious circumstances.

Transformation: The daughter’s behavior changes after her disappearance, and she becomes involved with a supernatural being, suggesting a transformation in her life and identity.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


An old woman lived with her three children, two sons and a daughter. The sons were good hunters, and loved their sister exceedingly. As time passed on, the mother observed a change in her daughter’s manners; and one day it happened that she went out by herself, and stayed away for good. The brothers sought her far and wide; but at last they gave it up, and again took to kayaking and hunting, and now lived alone with their mother. But one day, when she was all by herself in the house, and had lain down to rest on the ledge beneath the skin coverlet, she remarked a thing like a shadow gliding across the doorway, and on turning that way beheld her long-lost daughter.

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


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The girl who married an Atliarusek

An elderly couple, protective of their daughter, rejected suitors until a determined man fought for her hand. Forced to flee, the family relocated, where the daughter secretly married a capable hunter, an atliarusek. He brought them prosperity, even aiding those who scorned them before. The tale celebrates resilience, kindness, and eventual triumph over adversity, as the once-rejected family earns respect through generosity and hard work.

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 daughter’s secret husband is an atliarusek, a supernatural entity from Inuit lore, akin to elves or gnomes dwelling within coastal rocks.

Transformation through Love: The daughter’s union with the atliarusek brings prosperity and respect to her previously scorned family, highlighting how love can lead to positive change.

Community and Isolation: Initially isolated and mocked by their community, the family’s fortunes reverse due to the daughter’s marriage, emphasizing themes of belonging and societal acceptance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


The atliaruseks, probably identical with the ingnersuaks, were a sort of elves or gnomes, supposed to have their abodes within rocks along the sea-shore.

An aged couple had a daughter who had a great many suitors; but the old people were very selfish, and wanted to keep her at home. Meanwhile a man came who was very anxious to get the daughter. At last he fought them, and had nearly killed them; but the old man escaped, and got into his boat. The other men of the place despised and scorned him; but they got the boat loaded, and left. The others shouted to him contemptuously, “It won’t be easy for thee to get a husband for thy daughter! The poor old thing, who is quite unable to hunt — he to dare reject any one! Only let him come to be in want of necessaries, and then look out if there be any one to help him!” But he set off without deigning to answer them, and landed at one of the outermost islets. There they built their house, and put up for the winter. One morning the old man awoke, saying, “I wonder what I have just been seeing? Methinks I saw a man gliding through the doorway.”

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


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Avarunguak or Agdlerut

The tale of Avarunguak recounts his journey from an isolated upbringing to integration into a society where he marries and becomes a skilled hunter. Drawn south by tales of rich hunting, he encounters a mysterious “huge man” and his family, who reveal their true nature as bears in human form. Despite conflicts and trials, Avarunguak survives through cleverness and amulets. Ultimately, the story blends themes of human-animal transformation, survival, and cultural taboos.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: The story features beings who can shift between human and animal forms, specifically bears adopting human appearances.

Quest: Avarunguak embarks on a journey southward, driven by the allure of abundant hunting grounds, leading to significant personal experiences and challenges.

Trials and Tribulations: Throughout his journey, Avarunguak faces various challenges, including interactions with mysterious beings and the need to survive in unfamiliar territories, testing his resilience and resourcefulness.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


At a well-peopled place the trick of pinching was a favourite amusement with the inhabitants. One night a girl, who was an only sister with a number of brothers, came running in, crying, “I wonder who it can possibly be who is always running after me and paying court to me?” They told her that when he again made his appearance, she had better bring him into the house. When at length she brought him in, it was a man totally unknown to all of them. Avarunguak — such was his name — had grown up in solitary places, and when he came among people he married this girl, and after a while learned to manage a kayak, and grew an excellent hunter.

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Once they had some visitors from the south, and an old woman of the party accosted Avarunguak thus, saying, “If Avarunguak were to hear of the nice hunt, and the many auks we have down in the south, I am sure he would be wanting to go there!” So saying, she went away; but having heard her, Avarunguak could not sleep, so great was his desire to go at once. Already the next morning he ordered his housemates to make ready for the voyage; he wanted to be off for the south, he said. They loaded the boat and got under way. On the way out they asked the people they encountered whether the place was still far off, and all made answer that it was not very nigh yet. At length they put on shore, to rest from the toil of rowing, at a place where the people said that tomorrow they might possibly gain their destination. “When ye leave here, and have doubled the cape, ye will come in sight of a very large tent — this ye must shun; but soon afterwards ye will perceive a little white point, and having also passed this, ye will fall in with a great many people. To those ye shall go up.” On leaving, they soon observed the little white promontory right enough. Avarunguak steered his boat towards the large tent, unheeding the advice of his companions. On landing, a huge man came out from the tent towards them, and receiving them very civilly, went on saying, “It is really a matter of difficulty to get any one to keep company with here; pray stay and live with me;” and accordingly they prepared for wintering there.

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


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