Tag: 05. Transformation

Physical, emotional, or spiritual changes

The fire ball

In the village of Kin-i’-gun, a mistreated orphan reported a fiery apparition that led to a terrifying encounter with a skeleton-like tunghak, which killed the villagers who followed it. A fisherman later faced the tunghak but escaped using enchanted items that turned into protective dogs. Guided by a mysterious black man and a magical woman, he received an amulet, became a shaman, but ultimately vanished seeking the woman.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The appearance of the fiery apparition and the skeleton-like tunghak highlights interactions with otherworldly entities.

Divine Punishment: The villagers’ mistreatment of the orphan leads to their demise, suggesting retribution from higher powers for their transgressions.

Transformation: The fisherman’s enchanted items turning into protective dogs symbolize physical changes aiding in his escape from the tunghak.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from Sledge Island

In the village of Kin-i’-gun (Cape Prince of Wales), very long ago, there lived a poor orphan boy who had no one to care for him and was treated badly by everyone, being made to rim here and there at the bidding of the villagers. One evening he was told to go out of the kashim and see how the weather was. He had no skin boots, and being winter, he did not wish to go, but he was driven out. Very soon he came back and said there was no change in the weather. After this the men kept sending him out on the same errand until at last he came back and told them that he had seen a great ball of fire like the moon coming over the hill not far away. The people laughed at him and made him go out again, when he saw that the tire had come nearer until it was quite close. Then the orphan ran inside telling what he had seen and hid himself because he was frightened.

► Continue reading…

Soon after this the people in the kashim saw a fiery figure dancing on the gut-skin covering over the roof hole, and directly after a human skeleton came crawling into the room through the passageway, creeping on its knees and elbows. When it came into the room the skeleton made a motion toward the people, causing all of them to fall upon their knees and elbows in the same position taken by the skeleton. Then turning about it crawled out as it had come, followed by the people, who were forced to go after it. Outside the skeleton crept away from the village, followed by all the men, and in a short time everyone of them was dead and the skeleton had vanished. Some of the villagers had been absent when the skeleton, or tunghak, came, and when they returned they found dead people lying on the ground all about. Entering the kashim they found the orphan boy, who told them how the people had been killed. After this they followed the tracks of the tunghak; through the snow and were led up the side of the mountain until they came to a very ancient grave, where the tracks ended.

In a few days the brother of one of the men who had been killed went fishing upon the sea ice far from the village. He stayed late, and it became dark while he was still a long way from home. As he was walking along the tunghak suddenly appeared before him and began to cross back and forth in his path. The young man tried to pass it and escape, but could not, as the tunghak kept in front of him, do what he might. As he could think of nothing else, he suddenly caught a fish out of his basket and threw it at the tunghak. When he threw the fish it was frozen hard, but as it was thrown and came near the tunghak, it turned back suddenly, passing over the young man’s shoulders, and fell into his basket again, where it began to flap about, having become alive.

Then the fisherman pulled off one of his dogskin mittens and threw it. As it fell near the tunghak the mitten changed into a dog, which ran growling and snarling about the apparition, distracting its attention so that the young man was able to dart by and run as fast as he could toward the village. When he had gone part of the way he was again stopped by the tunghak, and at the same time a voice from overhead said, “Untie his feet; they are bound with cord;” but he was too badly frightened to obey. He then threw his other mitten, and it, too, changed into a dog, delaying the tunghak as the first one had done.

The young man ran off as fast as he could, and fell exhausted near the kashim door as the tunghak came up. The latter passed very near without seeing him and went into the house, but finding no one there, came out and went away. The young man then got up and went home, but did not dare to tell his mother what he had seen. The following day he went fishing again, and on his way came to a man lying in the path whose face and hands were black. When he drew near, the black man told him to get on his back and close his eyes. He obeyed, and in a short time was told to open his eyes. When the young man did this he saw just before him a house and near it a fine young woman. She spoke to him, saying, “Why did you not do as I told you the other night when the tunghak pursued you?” and he replied that he had been afraid to do it. The woman then gave him a magic stone as an amulet to protect him from the tunghat in the future, and the black man again took him on his back, and when he opened his eyes he was at home.

After this the young man claimed to be a shaman, but he thought continually of the beautiful young woman he had seen, so that he did not have much power. At last his father said to him, “You are no shaman; you will make me ashamed of you; go somewhere else.” The next morning the young man left the village at daybreak, and was never heard of again.

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The discontented grass plant

This tale from the Yukon mouth follows a grass stalk’s transformation through various forms—herb, plant, mouse, owl, and finally man—each motivated by dissatisfaction and a desire for security or freedom. As Chun-uh-luk, the final form, he discovers strength and skill but faces betrayal by a newfound brother. Their separation marks the origin of the wolverine and gray wolf, eternal wanderers in the same land.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The protagonist undergoes multiple physical changes, each reflecting a quest for a better existence.

Quest: The grass stalk’s journey through various forms represents a pursuit of security and fulfillment.

Good vs. Evil: The narrative explores the struggle between opposing forces, culminating in betrayal and the emergence of the wolverine and gray wolf.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from Sledge Island

Near the village of Pastolik, at the Yukon mouth, grows a tall, slender kind of grass. Every fall just before winter commences the women from the villages go out and gather great stores of it, pulling or cut ting it off close to the ground, and making large bundles which they carry home on their backs. This grass is dried and used for braiding mats and baskets and for pads in the soles of skin boots.

One of these Grass-stalks that had been almost pulled out of the ground by a woman, began to think that it had been very unfortunate in not being something else, so it looked about. Almost at first glance it spied a bunch of herbs growing near by, looking so quiet and undisturbed that the Grass began to wish to be like them.

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As soon as this wish had been formed the Grass-stern became an Herb like those it had envied, and for a short time it remained in peace.

One day it saw the women coining back carrying sharp-pointed picks, with which they began to dig up these herbs and eat some of the roots, while others were put into baskets and carried home. The change ling was left when the women went home in the evening, and having seen the fate of its companions, it wished it had taken another form; so looking about, it saw a small, creeping plant which pleased it, being so tiny and obscure; without delay it wished and became one of them. Again passed a time of quiet, and again came the women tearing up its companions but overlooking the changeling. Once more the latter was filled with fear and by wishing became a small tuber-bearing plant like others growing near. Scarcely had this change been made when a small tundra mouse came softly through the grass and began digging up one of the tubers of a similar plant near by, holding it in its forepaws and nibbling it, after which the mouse went on again. “To be secure I must become a mouse,” thought the changeling, and at once it became a Mouse and ran off, glad of the new change. Now and then it would pause to dig up and eat one of the tubers as the other mouse had done, or it would sit up on its hind feet to look around at the new scenes that came in view. While traveling nimbly along in this manner, the Mouse saw a strange, white object coining toward it, which kept dropping down upon the ground, and after stopping to eat something would fly on again. When it came near the Mouse saw that it was a great white owl. At the same moment the owl saw the Mouse and swooped down upon it. Darting off, the Mouse was fortunate enough to escape by running into a hole made by one of its kind, so the owl flew away.

After a while the Mouse ventured to come out of its shelter, though its heart beat painfully from its recent fright. “I will be an owl,” thought the Mouse, “and in this way will be safe.” So again it changed with the wish into a beautiful white Owl, and with slow, noiseless wing flaps set off toward the north, pausing every now and then to catch and eat a mouse. After a long flight Sledge island came in view, and the Owl thought it would go there. When far out at sea its untried wings became so tired that only with great difficulty did it manage to reach the shore, where it perched upon a piece of driftwood that stood up in the sand. In a short time it saw two fine-looking men pass along the shore, and the old feeling of discontent arose again. “I will be a man,” it thought, and, with a single flap of the wings, it stood upon the ground, where it changed immediately into a fine young Man, but was without clothing. Night came over the earth soon after, and Man sat down with his back against the stick of wood on which, as an Owl, he had perched, and slept there until morning. He was awakened by the warm sun, and upon rising Chun-uh-luk, as he called himself, felt stiff and lame from sitting in the cold night air.

Looking about, he found some grass, which he wove into a kind of loose mantle, which helped to keep out the cold, after which he saw some reindeer grazing near by and felt a sudden desire to kill and eat one of them. He crept closely on his hands and knees, and springing for ward on the nearest one seized it by the horns and broke its neck with a single effort, threw it over his shoulders, returned, and cast it down near his sleeping place. Then he felt all over the reindeer’s body and found that its skin formed a covering which his fingers were unable to penetrate. For a long time he tried to think of a way to remove the skin, and finally noticed a sharp-edge stone, which he picked up and found that he could cut through the skin with it. The deer was quickly skinned, but he felt the lack of a fire with which to cook the flesh. Looking around, he found two round, white stones upon the beach and, striking them together, saw that they gave out numerous sparks. With these and some dry material found along the shore he succeeded in making a fire, upon which he roasted some of the meat. He tried to swallow a very large piece of the meat just as he had eaten mice when he was an Owl, but found that he could not do it; then he cut off some small fragments and ate them. Another night passed, and in the morning he caught another reindeer, and the day following two others; both of these last deer he threw over his shoulders, and at once carried them back to his camping place on the shore. Chun-uh-luk found the nights very cold, so he skinned the last two reindeer and wrapped himself from head to foot in their skins, which dried upon him very soon and became like a part of his body. But the nights grew colder and colder, so that Chun-uh-luk collected a quantity of driftwood along the shore, with which he made himself a rough hut, which was very comfortable.

After finishing his house he was walking over the hills one day when he saw a strange black animal among some blueberry bushes eating the berries. Chun-uh-luk did not at first know whether he should interfere with this unknown animal or not, but finally he caught it by one of its hind legs. With an angry growl it turned about and faced him, showing its white teeth. In a moment Chun-uh-luk caught the bear by the coarse hair upon each cheek and swung it over his head, bringing it down to the ground with such force that the bear lay dead; then he threw it across his shoulders and went home.

In skinning the bear Chun-uh-luk found that it contained much fat, and that he might have a light in his house if he could find something to hold the grease, for he had found it very dark inside and trouble some to move about. Going along the beach he found a long, flat stone with a hollow in one surface, and in this the oil remained very well, so that when he had put a lighted moss wick into it he saw that his house was lighted as well as he could wish.

In the doorway he hung the bearskin to keep out the cold wind which sometimes had come in and chilled him during the night. In this way he lived for many days, until he began to feel lonely, when he remembered the two young men he had seen when he stood on the shore as an Owl. Then he thought, “I saw two men pass here once, and it can not be far to where others live. I will go and seek them, for it is very lonely here.” So he went out in search of people. He wandered along the coast for some distance, and at last came to two fine new kaiaks, lying at the foot of a hill, upon which were spears, lines, floats, and other hunting implements.

After having examined these curiously he saw a path near by, leading up to the top of a hill, which he followed. On the top of the hill was a house with two storehouses in the vicinity, and on the ground in front of him were several recently killed white whales, with the skulls of many others grouped around. Wishing to see the people in the house before showing himself, he crept with noiseless steps into the entrance way and up to the door. Lifting cautiously one corner of the skin that hung in the doorway, he looked in. Opposite the door was a young man sitting at work on some arrows, while a bow lay beside him. Chun-uh-luk dropped the curtain and stood quite still for some time, fearing that if he entered the house the young man would shoot him with the arrows before he could make known his good will. He ended by thinking, “If I enter and say, I have come, brother, he will not hurt me,” so, raising the curtain quickly, he entered. The householder at once seized the bow and drew an arrow to the head ready to shoot, just as Chun-uh-luk said, “I have come, brother.” At this the bow and arrow were dropped and the young man cried out with delight, “Are you my brother? Come and sit beside me.” And Chun-uh-luk did so very gladly. Then the householder showed his pleasure and said, “I am very glad to see you, brother, for I always believed I had one somewhere, but I could never find him. Where have you lived? Have you known any parents? How did you grow up?” and asked many other questions, to which Chun-uh-luk replied that he had never known his parents, and described his life by the seashore until he had started on the present search. The householder then said that he also had never known any parents, and his earliest recollection was of finding himself alone in that house, where he had lived ever since, killing game for food.

Telling his brother to follow him, the householder led Chun-uh-luk to one of the storehouses, where there was a great pile of rich furs, with an abundance of seal oil and other food. Opening the door of the other storehouse, the newcomer was shown a great many dead people lying there. The householder said he had killed them in revenge for the death of his parents, for he felt certain that they had been killed by these people, so he let no one pass him alive.

When they returned to the house, the brothers fell asleep and slept till morning. At daybreak they arose and, after breakfast, the house holder told Chun-uh-luk that as he had no bow and arrows, he should stay at home and cook for them both while he went out himself to kill the game. Then he went away and came back at night, bringing some reindeer meat. Chun-uh-luk had food ready, and after eating they both went to bed and slept soundly. In this manner they lived for several days, until Chun-uh-luk began to tire of cooking and of staying in the house.

One morning he asked permission to go out to hunt with his brother, but the latter refused and started out alone. Soon after, when he began to stalk some reindeer, Chun-uh-luk came creeping softly behind and grasped him by the foot, so that without alarming the game his brother should know he was there. Turning, the hunter said angrily, “What do you mean by following me? You can not kill anything without a bow and arrows.” “I can kill game with my hands alone,” said Chun-uh-luk; but his brother spoke scornfully, and said: “Go home, and attend to your cooking.” Chun-uh-luk turned away, but instead of going home he crept up to a herd of reindeer and killed two of them with his hands, as he had done while living alone. Then he stood up and waved his hands for his brother to come. The latter came, and was very much astonished to see the two reindeer, for he had killed none with his arrows. Chun-uh-luk then lifted both of the reindeer upon his shoulders and carried them home.

His brother followed with dark brow and evil thoughts in his heart, until jealousy and anger replaced all the kindly feelings he had for Chun-uh-luk, and there was also a feeling of fear after having seen his brother manifest such great strength. During all the evening he sat silent and moody, scarcely tasting the food placed before him, until finally his suspicions and evil thoughts began to produce the same feelings in Chun-uh’-luk’s breast. Thus they sat through the night, each watching the other and fearing some treachery.

The following day was calm and bright, and the householder asked Chun-uh-luk if he could paddle a kaiak, to which the latter answered that he thought he could. Then the householder led the way to the kaiaks upon the shore, into one of which he got, and telling Chun-uh-luk to follow him in the other. At first Chun-uh-luk had some trouble in keeping his kaiak steady, but he soon learned to control it, and they paddled far out to sea. When the shore was very distant they turned back, and the householder said: “Now, let us see who can gain the shore first.” Lightly the kaiaks darted away, and first one, then the other, seemed to have the advantage, until at last, with a final effort, they ran ashore, and the rivals sprang up the beach at the same moment. With scowling brow the householder turned to Chun-uh-luk and said: “You are no more my brother. You go in that direction, and I will go in this,” and they turned their backs to each other and separated angrily. As they went Chun-uh-luk changed into a Wolverine, his brother becoming a Gray Wolf, and until this day they are found wandering in the same country, but never together.

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

Tale of Ak-chik-chu-guk

A family of eight faces a storm’s wrath in a coastal village, leading to the separation of a daughter and brother on drifting ice. Ak-chik-chu-guk, the eldest son, displays superhuman strength and cunning, battling hostile villagers and a wicked shaman to rescue his sister. Despite victories, a cursed oversight transforms the siblings and their boat into stone, leaving their tale immortalized in the landscape.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Quest: Ak-chik-chu-guk embarks on a perilous journey to rescue his sister, facing numerous challenges along the way.

Transformation: The siblings’ eventual metamorphosis into stone serves as a poignant conclusion to their saga.

Supernatural Beings: The narrative features interactions with a wicked shaman, highlighting the influence of supernatural entities in Inuit folklore.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from Sledge Island

At the village of Kal-ul’i-git [Point Rodney, on the eastern shore of Bering strait] a terrible wind was blowing, which filled the air with flying snow and kept everyone in the house. One house in the village was occupied by a family of eight – the parents, five sons and a daughter. The eldest son, named Ak-chik-chu-guk, was noted for the great breadth of his shoulders, and the strength of his hands was greater than that of the most powerful walrus flippers. The daughter was well known for her kindness and beauty. As the day passed, one of the brothers asked his mother for some food, and she replied that none had been prepared, nor did she have any water with which to cook meat. Turning to the daughter, she told her to take a tub and go down to the water hole in the ice and bring some sea water that she might boil meat.

► Continue reading…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Land of the Dead

A young woman from a Yukon village dies and journeys to the land of shades, guided by her deceased grandfather. She witnesses surreal scenes, including punishments for earthly actions, a river of tears, and a village of shades. After attending a ceremonial feast for the dead, she mysteriously returns to life but frail. Her namesake sacrifices herself, allowing the young woman to recover and live on.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Underworld Journey: The protagonist’s journey to the land of shades, guided by her deceased grandfather, exemplifies a venture into a realm of the dead.

Transformation: The young woman’s experience of death, her journey through the afterlife, and subsequent return to life highlight themes of physical and spiritual transformation.

Sacrifice: The self-sacrifice of the young woman’s namesake, who gives her life to allow the protagonist to recover and live on, underscores the theme of giving up something valuable for a greater cause.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from Andreivsky, on the Lower Yukon

The following tale is known all along the Lower Yukon, and was related by an old shaman who said that it occurred several generations ago. It is believed by the Eskimo to have been an actual occurrence, and it gives a fair idea of their belief of the condition of the shade after death.

A young woman living at a village on the Lower Yukon became ill and died. When death came to her she lost consciousness for a time; then she was awakened by some one shaking her, saying, “Get up, do not sleep; you are dead.” When she opened her eyes she saw that she was lying in her grave box, and her dead grandfather’s shade was standing beside her. He put out his hand to help her rise from the box and told her to look about.

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She did so, and saw many people whom she knew moving about in the village. The old man then turned her with her back to the village and she saw that the country she knew so well had disappeared and in its place was a strange village, extending as far as the eye could reach. They went to the village, and the old man told her to go into one of the houses. So soon as she entered the house a woman sitting there picked up a piece of wood and raised it to strike her, saying, angrily, “What do you want here?” She ran out crying and told the old man about the woman. He said, “This is the village of the dog shades, and from that you can see how the living dogs feel when beaten by people.”

From this they passed on and came to another village, in which stood a large kashim. Close to this village she saw a man lying on the ground with grass growing up through all his joints, and, though he could move, he could not arise. Her grandfather told her that this shade was punished thus for pulling up and chewing grass stems when he was on the earth. Looking curiously at his shade for a time, she turned to speak to her grandfather, but he had disappeared. Extending onward before her was a path leading to a distant village, so she followed it. She soon came to a swift river, which seemed to bar her way. This river was made up of the tears of the people who weep on earth for the dead. When the girl saw that she could not cross, she sat on the bank and began to weep. When she wiped her eyes she saw a mass of straw and other stuff like refuse thrown from houses, floating down the stream, and it stopped in front of her. Upon this she crossed the river as over a bridge. When she reached the farther side the refuse vanished and she went on her way. Before she reached the village the shades had smelled her and cried out, “Someone is coming.” When she reached them they crowded about her, saying, “Who is she? Whence does she come?” They examined her clothing, finding the totem marks, which showed where she belonged, for in ancient days people always had their totem marks on their clothing and other articles, so that members of every village and family were thus known.

Just then someone said, “Where is she? Where is she?” and she saw her grandfather’s shade coming toward her. Taking her by the hand, he led her into a house near by. On the farther side of the room she saw an old woman, who gave several grunts and then said, “Come and sit by me.” This old woman was her grandmother, and she asked the girl if she wanted a drink, at the same time beginning to weep. When the. girl became thirsty she looked about and saw some strange looking tubs of water, among which only one, nearly empty, was made like those in her own village.

Her grandmother told her to drink water from this tub only, as that was their own Yukon water, while the other tubs were all full of water from the village of the shades. When she became hungry her grand mother gave her a piece of deer fat, telling her that it had been given them by her son, the girl’s father, at one of the festivals of the dead, and at the same time he had given them the tub of water from which she had just drunk.

The old woman told the girl that the reason her grandfather had become her guide was because when she was dying she had thought of him. When a dying person thinks of his relatives who are dead the thought is heard in the land of shades, and the person thought of by the dying one hurries off to show the new shade the road. When the season came for the feast of the dead to be given at the dead girl’s village, two messengers were sent out, as usual, to invite the neighboring villagers to the festival. The messengers traveled a long time toward one of the villages, and it became dark before they reached it, but at last they heard the drums beat and the sound of the dancers feet in the kashim. Going in, they delivered to the people their invitation to the feast of the dead.

Sitting invisible on a bench among these people, with the girl between them, were the shades of the grandfather and grandmother, and when the messengers went back to their own village the next day the three shades followed them, but were still invisible. When the festival had nearly been completed, the mother of the dead girl was given water, which she drank. Then the shades went outside of the kashim to wait for their names to be called for the ceremony of the putting of clothing upon namesakes of the dead.

As the shades of the girl and her grandparents went out of the kashim the old man gave the girl a push, which caused her to fall and lose her senses in the passageway. When she recovered she looked about and found herself alone. She arose and stood in the corner of the entrance way under a lamp burning there, and waited for the other shades to come out that she might join her companions. There she waited until all of the living people came out dressed in fine new clothing, but she saw none of her companion shades.

Soon after this an old man with a stick came hobbling into the entrance, and as he looked up he saw the shade standing in the corner with her feet raised more than a span above the floor. He asked her if she was a live person or a shade, but she did not reply, and he went hurriedly into the kashim. There he told the men to hasten out and look at the strange being standing in the passageway, whose feet did not rest on the earth and who did not belong to their village. All the men hurried out, and, seeing her, some of them took down the lamp and by its light she was recognized and hurried into the house of her parents.

When the men first saw her she appeared in form and color exactly as when alive, but the moment she sat down in her father’s house her color faded and she shrank away until she became nothing but skin and bone, and was too weak to speak. Early the next morning her namesake, a woman in the same village, died, and her shade went away to the land of the dead in the girl’s place, and the latter gradually became strong again and lived for many years.

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The bringing of the light by Raven

In a time of darkness, an orphan boy mocked shamans who failed to restore light. Secretly a raven in disguise, he journeyed south, stealing a ball of light from a mysterious man. Fleeing as a raven, he broke the light into pieces, creating day and night. He later founded a family across the sea, and his descendants became ravens, preserving his legacy of alternating light and dark.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale describes the origin of light in the world, detailing how the raven’s actions led to the establishment of day and night.

Transformation: The protagonist’s ability to change into a raven highlights themes of physical transformation and the use of this ability to achieve a greater good.

Quest: The orphan boy’s journey to the south to retrieve the sun and moon represents a classic quest, undertaken to restore balance and light to his community.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from Paimut, on the Lower Yukon

In the first days there was light from the sun and the moon as we now have it. Then the sun and the moon were taken away, and people were left on the earth for a long time with no light but the shining of the stars. The shamans made their strongest charms to no purpose, for the darkness of night continued.

In a village of the Lower Yukon there lived an orphan boy who always sat upon the bench with the humble people over the entrance way in the kashim. The other people thought he was foolish, and he was despised and ill-treated by everyone. After the shamans had tried very hard to bring back the sun and the moon but failed, the boy began to mock them, saying, “What fine shamans you must be, not to be able to bring back the light, when even I can do it.”

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At this the shamans became very angry and beat him and drove him out of the kashim. This poor orphan was like any other boy until he put on a black coat which he had, when he changed into a raven, pre serving this form until he took off the coat again.

When the shamans drove the boy out of the kashim, he went to the house of his aunt in the village and told her what he had said to them and how they had beaten him and driven him out of the kashim. Then he said he wished her to tell him where the sun and the moon had gone, for he wished to go after them.

She denied that she knew where they were hidden, but the boy said, “I am sure you know where they are, for look at what a finely sewed coat you wear, and you could not see to sew it in that way if you did not know where the light is.” After a long time he prevailed upon his aunt, and she said to him, “Well, if you wish to find the light you must take your snowshoes and go far to the south, to the place you will know when you get there.”

The Raven boy at once took his snowshoes and set off for the south. For many days he traveled, and the darkness was always the same. When he had gone a very long way he saw far in front of him a ray of light, and then he felt encouraged. As he hurried on the light showed again, plainer than before, and then vanished and appeared at intervals. At last he came to a large hill, one side of which was in a bright light while the other appeared in the blackness of night. In front of him and close to the hill the boy saw a hut with a man near by who was shoveling snow from the front of it.

The man was tossing the snow high in the air, and each time that he did this the light became obscured, thus causing the alternations of light and darkness which the boy had seen as he approached. Close beside the house he saw the light he had come in search of, looking like a large ball of fire. Then the boy stopped and began to plan how to secure the light and the shovel from the man.

After a time he walked up to the man and said, “Why are you throwing up the snow and hiding the light from our village?” The man stopped, looked up, and said, “I am only cleaning away the snow from my door; I am not hiding the light. But who are yon, and whence did you come?” “It is so dark at our village that I did not like to live there, so I came here to live with you,” said the boy. “What, all the time?” asked the man. “Yes,” replied the boy. The man then said, “It is well; come into the house with me,” and he dropped his shovel on the ground, and, stooping down, led the way through the underground passage into the house, letting the curtain fall in front of the door as he passed, thinking the boy was close behind him.

The moment the door flap fell behind the man as he entered, the boy caught up the ball of light and pat it in the turned up flap of his fur coat in front; then, catching up the shovel in one hand, he fled away to the north, running until his feet became tired; then by means of his magic coat he changed into a raven and flew as fast as his wings would carry him. Behind he heard the frightful shrieks and cries of the old man, following fast in pursuit. When the old man saw that he could not overtake the Raven he cried out, “Nevermind; you may keep the light, but give me my shovel.”

To this the boy answered, “No; you made our village dark and you can not have your shovel,” and Raven flew off, leaving him. As Raven traveled to his home he broke off a piece of the light and threw it away, thus making day. Then he went on for a long time in dark ness and then threw out another piece of light, making it day again. This he continued to do at intervals until he reached the outside of the kashim in his own village, when he threw away the last piece. Then he went into the kashim and said, “Now, you good-for-nothing shamans, you see I have brought back the light, and it will be light and then dark so as to make day and night,” and the shamans could not answer him.

After this the Raven boy went out upon the ice, for his home was on the seacoast, and a great wind arose, drifting him with the ice across the sea to the land on the other shore. There he found a village of people and took a wife from among them, living with her people until he had three daughters and four sons. In time he became very old and told his children how he had come to their country, and after telling them that they must go to the land whence he came, he died.

Raven’s children then went away as he had directed them, and finally they came to their father’s land. There they became ravens, and their descendants afterward forgot how to change themselves into people and so have continued to be ravens to this day.

At Raven’s village day and night follow each other as he told them it would, and the length of each was unequal, as sometimes Raven traveled a long time without throwing out any light and again he threw out the light at frequent intervals, so that the nights were very short, and thus they have continued.

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Origin of land and people

In the beginning, the earth was covered by icy waters, devoid of life. A man arrived, married a she-wolf, and their children, born in boy-girl pairs, spoke unique languages. Each pair dispersed across the land, populating the earth and creating its diverse languages. As the ice melted, rivers and valleys formed, shaping the world we know today.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Creation: The narrative explains how the earth transformed from being covered in icy waters to a habitable land with rivers, valleys, and diverse peoples.

Origin of Things: It provides an explanation for the existence of different languages and the distribution of people across the earth.

Transformation: The story depicts the physical changes of the earth’s landscape as the ice melted, leading to the formation of rivers and valleys, and the emergence of human societies.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from the Lower Yukon

In the beginning there was water over all the earth, and it was very cold; the water was covered with ice, and there were no people. Then the ice ground together, making long ridges and hummocks.

At this time came a man from the far side of the great water and stopped on the ice hills near where Pikmiktalik now is, taking for his wife a she-wolf.

By and by he had many children, which were always born in pairs a boy and a girl. Each pair spoke a tongue of their own, differing from that of their parents and different from any spoken by their brothers and sisters.

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As soon as they were large enough each pair was sent out in a different direction from the others, and thus the family spread far and near from the ice hills, which now became snow-covered mountains. As the snow melted it ran down the hillsides, scooping out ravines and river beds, and so making the earth with its streams.

The twins peopled the earth with their children, and as each pair with their children spoke a language different from the others, the various tongues found on the earth were established and continue until this day.

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The Sun and the Moon

In a riverside village, a sister and her lazy young companion had a falling out over his behavior, leading her to leave via a celestial ladder. She became the sun, and he, pursuing her in vain, became the moon. Their eternal chase explains the waxing and waning of the moon, symbolizing its starvation and renewal as the sun feeds it in cycles.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Creation: It offers an explanation for the origins of celestial bodies and their movements.

Origin of Things: The tale provides a narrative for natural phenomena, specifically the moon’s phases.

Transformation: Both characters undergo a metamorphosis into celestial entities, highlighting themes of change and adaptation.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from the Lower Yukon

In a village on the great river once lived four brothers and a sister. The sister had for a companion a small boy of whom she was very fond. This boy was lazy and could never be made to work. The other brothers were great hunters and in the fall hunted at sea, for they lived near the shore. As soon as the Bladder feast was over they went to the mountains and hunted reindeer. The boy never went with them, but stayed at home with the sister, and they amused each other. One night the sister awoke and found the boy lying in bed close to her, at which she became very angry and made him go to sleep in the kashim with the men. The next evening, when she carried food to her brothers in the kashim she gave none to the boy; instead, she went home, and after mixing some berries and deer fat, cut off one of her breasts, placed it in the dish, and carried it to the boy.

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Putting the dish before him she said, “You wanted me last night, so I have given you my breast. If you desire me, eat it.” The boy refused the dish, so she took it up and went outside. As she went out she saw a ladder leading up into the sky, with a line hanging down by the side of it. Taking hold of the line, she ascended the ladder, going up into the sky. As she was going up her younger brother came out and saw her and at once ran back into the kashim, telling his brothers. They began at once to scold the boy and ran out to see for themselves.

The boy caught up his sealskin breeches and, being in such a hurry, thrust one leg into them and then drew a deerskin sock upon the other foot as he ran outside. There he saw the girl far away up in the sky and began at once to go up the ladder toward her, but she floated away, he following in turn.

The girl then became the sun and the boy became the moon, and ever since that time he pursues but never overtakes her. At night the sun sinks in the west and the moon is seen coming up in the east to go circling after, but always too late. The moon, being without food, wanes slowly away from starvation until it is quite lost from sight; then the sun reaches out and feeds it from the dish in which the girl had placed her breast. After the moon is fed and gradually brought to the full, it is then permitted to starve again, so producing the waxing and waning every month.

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The Sun and the Moon

A coastal village tale recounts a boy’s forbidden love for his sister, leading her to escape into the sky as the moon, pursued by him as the sun, causing eclipses. Their father, consumed by despair, turned malevolent, spreading disease and consuming both the dead and living. Shamans eventually subdued him, inspiring burial traditions that bind the deceased to prevent possession by evil spirits.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Forbidden Love: The brother’s prohibited affection for his sister initiates the central conflict.

Transformation: The siblings’ metamorphosis into the sun and the moon, and the father’s change into a malevolent being.

Supernatural Beings: The involvement of shamans and the father’s transformation into an evil spirit highlight interactions with supernatural entities.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from St. Michael

In a coast village once lived a man and his wife who had two children, a girl and a boy. When these children grew large enough, so that the boy could turn over the gravel stone, he became in love with his sister. Being constantly importuned by the boy his sister finally, to avoid him, floated away into the sky and became the moon. The boy has pursued her ever since, becoming the sun, and sometimes overtakes and embraces her, thus causing an eclipse of the moon. After his children had gone their father became very gloomy and hated his kind, going about the earth scattering disease and death among mankind, and the victims of disease became his food, until he became so evil that his desire could not be satisfied in this way, so he killed and ate people who were well.

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Through fear of this being people threw the bodies of their dead just outside the village that he might be fed without injuring the living. Whenever he came about the bodies would disappear during the night. Finally he became so bad that all the most powerful shamans joined together and, by using their magic powers, were enabled to capture and bind him hand and foot, so that he was no longer able to wander about doing mischief. Although bound and unable to move about, he has still the power to introduce disease and afflict mankind. To prevent evil spirits from wandering and taking possession of dead bodies and thus giving them a fictitious animation for evil purposes, and in memory of the binding of this evil one, the dead are no longer thrown out, but are tied hand and foot in the position in which the demon was bound and placed in the grave box.

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The circling of cranes

Long ago, cranes preparing for their autumn migration encountered a beautiful young woman near a village. Enchanted, they lifted her on their wings and carried her away, their cries drowning her calls for help. She was never seen again. To this day, cranes circle and call loudly each autumn, echoing their ancient deed in preparation for their journey southward.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The cranes exhibit extraordinary behavior by communicating with the woman and abducting her, suggesting a supernatural element beyond typical animal behavior.

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for the cranes’ circling behavior and loud calls during autumn migrations, attributing it to their ancient deed of abducting the young woman.

Transformation: The young woman’s life undergoes a dramatic change as she is taken from her village by the cranes, symbolizing a transformation from her human world to an unknown fate.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

from St. Michael and other places on Norton Sound

One autumn day, very long ago, the cranes were preparing to go southward. As they were gathered in a great flock they saw a beautiful young woman standing alone near the village. Admiring her greatly, the cranes gathered about, and lifting her on their widespread wings, bore her far up in the air and away.

While the cranes were taking her up they circled below her so closely that she could not fall, and their loud, hoarse cries drowned her calls for help, so she was carried away and never seen again.

Ever since that time the cranes always circle about in autumn, uttering their loud cries while preparing to fly southward, as they did at that time.

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text

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The lone woman

Long ago, a young man from the north journeyed south to marry the only woman known to live there. Another northern man, envious, attempted to abduct her, resulting in a struggle that split the woman in two. Both men replaced her missing halves with wood, creating two women. Their traits—dexterous northern needlework and southern dancing—passed to their descendants, reflecting this tale’s truth.

Source: 
The Eskimo about Bering Strait 
by Edward William Nelson 
[Smithsonian Institution] 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Eighteenth Annual Report 
Washington, 1900

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The woman is physically divided and each half is reconstructed with wooden parts, resulting in two living women with distinct characteristics.

Creation: The story explains the origin of two groups of women, each inheriting specific traits from their respective ‘mothers.’

Family Dynamics: The narrative explores relationships and conflicts, such as the abduction attempt and the subsequent division of the woman, affecting familial and societal structures.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples

This tale refers to notable facts in regard to the accomplishments of the women in the districts north and south of St Michael.

Very long ago there were many men living in the northland, but there was no woman among them. Far away in the southland a single woman was known to live. At last one of the young men in the north started and traveled to the south until he came to the woman’s house, where he stopped and in a short time became her husband. One day he sat in the house thinking of his home and said, “Ah, I have a wife, while the son of the headman in the north has none.” And he was much pleased in thinking of his good fortune.

Meanwhile the headman’s son also had set out to journey toward the south, and while the husband was talking thus to himself the son stood in the entrance passage to the house listening to him. He waited there in the passage until the people inside were asleep, when he crept into the house and, seizing the woman by the shoulders, began dragging her away.

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Just as he reached the doorway he was overtaken by the husband, who caught the woman by her feet. Then followed a struggle, which ended by pulling the woman in two, the thief carrying the upper half of the body away to his home in the northland, while the husband was left with the lower portion of his wife. Each man set to work to replace the missing parts from carved wood. After these were fitted on they became endowed with life, and so two women were made from the halves of one.

The woman in the south, however, was a poor needlewoman, owing to the clumsiness of her wooden fingers, but was a fine dancer. The woman in the north was very expert in needlework, but her wooden legs made her a very poor dancer. Each of these women gave to her daughters these characteristics, so that to the present time the same difference is noted between the women of the north and those of the south, thus showing that the tale is true.

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