Atalianguak

Atalianguak, a skilled seal-hunter, encounters a mysterious woman who becomes his wife. Living with his cousins, he discovers she is not an ordinary woman after noticing her fox-like traits. She flees, and he follows her to a fox-hole where enchanted creatures lull him into a deep sleep. Awakening much later, surrounded by insects, he abandons any further pursuit of marriage or relationships.

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

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: Atalianguak’s wife reveals her true nature as a fox-like creature, highlighting interactions between humans and mystical entities.

Transformation: The story features the wife’s metamorphosis from a human appearance to her true fox form, emphasizing themes of change and revelation.

Forbidden Knowledge: Atalianguak’s pursuit of his wife’s true identity leads him to a mystical fox-hole, where he encounters enchanted creatures that lull him into a deep sleep, suggesting the dangers of uncovering hidden truths.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

Atalianguak was an excellent seal-hunter, and lived as a bachelor in a large house, together with several cousins. At spring-time he used to go out all by himself in his boat in order to fish angmagsat (Capelins). One evening when he returned to his tent, having been out kayaking, he was much surprised at seeing a pretty little woman standing outside of it. She wore a pair of white boots, and her hair-tuft was newly dressed. Atalianguak ran quickly up beside her, and taking hold of her hand brought her into the tent, and afterwards married her. When the fishing season came to an end he repaired homewards in his boat, his wife rowing, while he himself took the helm.

► Continue reading…

In autumn he again settled down in the house of his cousins. One evening just as his wife had risen from her seat on the ledge to go outside, one of the other people, whom she happened to pass by, remarked, “What a very peculiar smell I perceived;” but his housemates told him to take great care not to offend her, as they had observed that she was not a woman of the common kind. The same thing, however, happened again; this time the little woman hearing them speak of a strange smell rushed quickly out, and the moment she passed the doorway the people observed a fox-tail dangling at her back. Atalianguak pursued her to the border of a lake. In a fox-hole close by he noticed a light, and peeping in he saw his wife sitting on a ledge. He called out, “I feel so cold, let me come in.” “Well, come.” “But in what way am I to enter?” “Thou hast only to breathe upon the entrance and thou wilt easily get in.” Thus be entered, and sitting down beside his wife, he exclaimed, “It is dreadfully cold — do make me warm.” At the same time be saw one of the walls covered with flies, dirt-flies, beetles, and all kinds of reptiles. She now raised up her head and ordered them to lull Atalianguak to sleep, and presently they all began singing, “Atalianguak, sleep, sleep; at spring we will rouse thee again:” and he slept for ever so long. At last he awoke of his own accord, and when he rose and went outside the sun was high in the sky, while the cave itself swarmed with flies and reptiles. He went to make water, and forthwith it turned to a whole river. From that time he gave up all thought of womanhood.

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

Isigarsigak

Isigarsigak and his younger brother journeyed north, enduring harsh winters and joining friendly locals. They later voyaged to Akilinek, a land abundant with reindeer. After a lively singing match, Isigarsigak returned home, leaving his brother behind. Over generations, he became a beloved elder, sharing songs and bird calls. His remarkable longevity inspired awe, though his brother’s fate remained unknown, linking their people to Akilinek.

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

► Themes of the story

Quest: Their journey northward in search of new lands and experiences embodies the classic quest motif.

Transformation: Isigarsigak’s evolution into a revered elder, sharing songs and wisdom, reflects personal growth and change.

Community and Isolation: The brothers’ integration into new communities, contrasted with Isigarsigak’s eventual return home and his brother’s unknown fate, highlights the dynamics of belonging and separation.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

Isigarsigak and his younger brother once set out on a journey northwards, and did not stop till the frost forced them to set themselves for the winter before they had reached their goal. Not till the middle of next summer did they arrive at their place of destination, where they found a number of people all friendly and well inclined; and therefore they resolved to pass the next winter with them. Winter went by as usual; but when spring came round, some of the people at times would say, “At midsummer-time we shall no doubt again see the dark stripe.” This implied the intention of going a trip to Akilinek (the country beyond the ocean); but the strangers did not understand their meaning.

► Continue reading…

One day a man came up to Isigarsigak saying, “We all of us intend to go a voyage out seawards to Akilinek; with that view thou wouldst do well to gather skins for a double coating to thy boat.” He followed this advice; and when all had got their boats new coverings, he noticed that every morning the inhabitants mounted the top of a hill to take a survey of the ocean. Sometimes he joined them, and then they used to say, “Much as we long to be off, we dare not risk it yet.” But at length the rattling noise of the tent-poles woke him one morning, and when he saw the others had almost finished carrying their things down to the boats, he hastened to pull down his tent; and being also ready, the boats started. They stood to sea at once; and when the outer covers got wet and began to slacken their speed, they cut their fastenings and cast them off. Isigarsigak dropped astern a little, and had almost given up hope of seeing land again, when suddenly he heard land-shouts ahead of him. As he listened again, he could make out that they cried, “The broad dark stripe;” and presently he saw it looming out, and when he rose and stood upright he beheld a broad expanse of land. The travellers now broke out into exulting shouts that they had reached the opposite shore without a gale, and on coming close to the land they found it abounding with reindeer. They moored their boats, and at once went off shooting, but Isigarsigak and his brother slew the greatest number. They decided on staying at this place for a sea-son. Some time after there was heard a cry of “Boats.” Isigarsigak went out and saw a great number coming down from the north. These travellers also took up their quarters there; but Isigarsigak did not care to assist them, and remained in his tent. Before long, however, there was a cry at the entrance, “Isigarsigak and his brother are called upon to come out for a singing match” (nith-songs or satirical songs). Although Isigarsigak had no idea of singing, they made themselves smart and went outside. They saw an enormous crowd of people all going up hill, the men in front, the women following. As soon as they were seen there was another shout, “Let the men from East step forward.” The brother of Isigarsigak first performed a dance and retired. Isigarsigak himself was now summoned, but as he did not know much about either singing or dancing he proposed to his wife to advance, who was so smart and clever that nobody could match her.

The brother of Isigarsigak being unmarried now took a wife in this place; but as his brothers-in-law came to like him uncommonly well they would not allow him to leave them. The year being far advanced, they all prepared to cross to their own land, giving their boats new covers. Though Isigarsigak had been greatly attached to his brother, and did not like the idea of leaving him, he wished to die in his own country, and therefore made ready to follow his countrymen. At length they started; but a little way off land Isigarsigak said to his people, “It occurs to me that I forgot to divide our healing remedy (viz., amulet for health and longevity). What a pity! we shall have to go back.” Accordingly they went back and unpacked the things again. Opening an old box he produced something like a small bit of coal from a fireplace — this being an amulet given to him and his brother in common. He broke it into two pieces, and gave one of them to his brother. The boat was again loaded, and steering right out to sea, he turned round to see the last of his brother, who stood watching them on the beach in his white reindeer jacket. They were never to meet again, so he did not take his eyes off him till he was quite lost to sight.

The boats safely reached their own shore without encountering any storm. Isigarsigak now began seal-hunting with his children, but in time these grew old and died successively. Then he went out in company with his grandchildren, as yet without losing strength himself. It was not till his grandchildren were getting aged that he began to feel a little less handy himself. He was much beloved by his grandchildren, and they often went with him to a craggy reddish cliff, a favourite spot of his, where a number of gulls had built their nests, and the grandchildren’s children would call to him, saying, “Here we are at thy favourite cliff; do sing to us.” He had a fine voice, and could also imitate the cries of birds, which delighted the urchins beyond everything. This generation also died, and their children became his companions; but his grandchildren’s grandchildren had to carry him in a boat, and to treat him like a child. His strong frame had now grown thin and shrunk like that of a baby; he ate almost nothing, and to know whether he still breathed they used to hold a bit of down before his nose. In passing by the bird’s-cliff they would say, “Now we are at thy favourite spot; do sing a song:” and listening sharply, they could hear a small feeble sound like the cry of a bird. At length he began to suck his coverlet; and one day when they came to take him out as usual, they observed that the feather before his mouth did not stir; he had breathed his last. Isigarsigak never had his like with regard to old age in this country (Greenland); he got quite as old as Nivnitak. His younger brother may even have outlived him, but he had never been heard of. It is through him that we are related to the people of Akilinek.

Avatarsuak, who was baptised Nathan

Avatarsuak, raised by his wise grandfather, was taught compassion and respect. After his grandfather’s death, he was falsely accused of killing traders, only to encounter a sorcerous tupilak. With resilience and aid from women, he overcame the creature. Later, surviving treacherous icebergs with his grandparents’ spiritual guidance, he visited an otherworldly community, recovering strength and wisdom. This journey marked his transformation into a powerful, untouchable wise man.

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

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Avatarsuak undergoes significant personal growth, evolving from a young man falsely accused and confronting supernatural challenges to becoming a powerful and wise figure.

Supernatural Beings: The encounter with the tupilak, a creature born of sorcery, highlights interactions with otherworldly entities within the narrative.

Underworld Journey: Avatarsuak’s venture into an otherworldly community, guided by spiritual forces, symbolizes a journey into realms beyond the ordinary, leading to his eventual transformation.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

It is said that his grandfather, being likewise called Avatarsuak, was a wise man. It was he who took charge of his younger namesake, whose own father had been early called away from home. The grandfather admonished him not to harm the meanest dog, and never to be uncivil towards old people, not even on being reproved by them. When he came to possess a kayak of his own he remarked that his grandfather, when pushing him off the beach, was always heard to pronounce some strange words, at the same time uncovering his head by pulling the hood back behind the ears. But though the youth listened carefully, he could not make out the meaning of the words.

► Continue reading…

About the time when he first commenced seal-catching his grandfather died, and being left alone he took up his winter quarters at a place where the Southlanders had to pass by when on their trading excursions to the European settlement at Pamiut (Fredrikshaab). At length two kayakers on their voyage to this place passed by his residence, whom he expected for ever so long to see return, but in vain. At length he learned from the south that both were missing, and at the same time that he was suspected of having killed them. Some time after, being in want of a skin for a hunting-bladder, he went off in search of a firth-seal. It was fine weather, and so calm that the breathing of the larger seals was plainly audible. As for the small firth-seals, however, he saw none, and was getting farther and farther into the bay. Suddenly something emerged from the water, coming up close behind him, and beating the top of his kayak, and lo! it was nothing less than a tupilak (monster made by sorcery). It accosted him, saying, “How lucky I met thee thus alone, as I am longing for some entrails!” Stupefied with awe, he felt the creature creeping up on the top of the kayak behind him, constantly repeating, “I shall soon make a feast on thy entrails;” at the same time pressing down the stern of the kayak so deep as to make the prow rise in the air. Never before had he, who was wont to carry spotted seals, had such a weight on board. Feeling his strength giving way, and knowing nothing better, he tried to capsize his kayak to the left, but was greatly perplexed to find his oar striking against a hard substance below, though out in deep water. At this he got up; but in attempting to turn his kayak to the right, he again hit something hard, on which he slowly righted himself, and rowed away, at the same time perceiving that he was regaining his strength. But though he pulled homewards with all his strength, he found it impossible to make his kayak go straight. It kept turning round, carrying him towards uninhabited places. The tupilak now cried, “Thou hateful creature, I see I have made a mistake, and climbed up to one of uncommon kind” (viz., a man endowed with a certain degree of angakok power); and he noticed it struggling hard to get down, but without being able to detach itself. Thus he went on pulling away to the sunny side of the firth. When they were quite close to the beach, the tupilak said, “I see I shall not get through with thee, and I think I shall be made thy prize.” Just then the man on looking round discovered a boat occupied by women, who had been farther up the firth getting angmagsat (capelins). He called out to them, “I have got something on my kayak that is not a seal; put ashore yonder and come round this way quickly.” When they had done as he told them, he went on saying, “Don’t attack it in front, as it might be dangerous to you.” The foremost among them on seeing the beast fled in terror. The kayaker again began to lose strength, but at length his repeated calls caused the women to come back, bringing with them oars, intending to use them as levers, the beast sticking fast, as if glued to the kayak. At length it gave way, and a cracking noise was heard, whereupon he was able to get out and look at the monster, which proved to be the size of a large firth-seal. Turning to the oldest of the women he said, “I do not care to touch it; ye cut it up; I shall repay you hereafter.” In expectation of the reward she at once fell to and cut open the tupilak, which she found stuffed with all kinds of bones, such as of birds, walruses, and seals. They had it entirely destroyed by sinking part of it in the sea, and hiding the rest of it in some old tombs. This done, he prepared to row home, but first said to the women, “Thanks to you and your roaming thus about, without which I wonder how I had fared. I will take care to repay you; I am not likely to forget you.” At home he told his adventure, and all now felt sure that it must have been the tupilak which had formerly killed the two traders. After this all travellers were unmolested, and the women were well paid by Avatarsuak.

Some time now elapsed without anything remarkable happening. Towards spring, however, he found himself in want of several necessaries, such as lead, powder, and tobacco, and set out for the European settlement at Pamiut. Having finished his business there, and rested during the night, he turned homewards, rather uneasy about a quantity of drift-ice which had accumulated at the mouth of a firth he had to cross. Before he reached the spot, the land wind set in, and came storming down upon him, and the sky looked black and threatening. Still he tried to cross the firth, winding his way through the small passages between the broken ice. At length, however, he found himself almost entirely stopped, and at the same time saw a large iceberg drifting down upon him. He tried to escape, but presently heard the roar of its calving (breaking) right alongside him, and pressing him deep under the waters. However, he rose on the other side of the broken piece, and again sped along, but on the shady side of the firth he was once more overturned by a much larger iceberg, and this time he quite lost his senses. How long he was in this state of stupor is not known; but on reviving he noticed the strings of his kayak-jacket rattling about, and smiting his back with the quick motion, while he was pushed on towards the land beneath the waves. He had no kayak, but found himself sitting down, the loose bottom skin of his kayak fastened round him, and having his kayak-stick for an oar, and with one leg somewhat bent. In front he saw some one in a large hood rushing on and cleaving the waters for him, and behind he heard some one talking, but without being able to make out the words. These companions proved to be his grandparents protecting their grandson. When they came nearer to the islets he felt exceedingly thirsty; and presently discovering an iceberg with a fine spring flowing from it he wanted to go and quench his thirst; but at that moment he heard a warning voice behind him saying, “Dear grandson, do not drink of the fountain designed for those perishing at sea; if thou drinkest thou wilt never return.” At length he was carried far towards the head of the firth, and saw light from the windows of a very large house. Presently a woman in a white jacket came out of the doorway, then another, and at last a man in a reindeer cloak, followed by others, all being dogs in shape of men, and running down on the beach to him. When he entered the house there were people sitting together at its southern end, keeping watch over a dying brother. Having got inside he fell down beside the first lamp, but still could hear one of the men say, “An anghiniartok has come among us;” at that instant, on being handled by them, and touched upon his bare skin, he lost all consciousness, but soon after revived, hearing a sweet tune of a song from his childhood. At the very moment he revived the sick man breathed his last. The people of the house put a new skin underneath him, and let him remain perfectly quiet in his own clothes for five succeeding days, after which he began to stir about a little, and long to get home, but he had no kayak. One day, however, a woman went down along the beach to gather the red sea-weed, and returned saying, “Only fancy! I have found a complete kayak drifted ashore to us.” When they had gathered on the beach, and duly inspected it, they made it out to be the kayak of their anghiniartok, in perfect order, and lying just above high-water mark, and well closed by the half-jacket. On opening this they also found his goods, not a single implement amissing. The next day he returned; and from that time upwards he became still more of a wise man, and no witchcraft could ever work upon him.

Arnarsarsuak, the kivigtok woman

Arnarsarsuak, once a courted beauty, fled to the wilderness after overhearing her sisters-in-law mock her unborn child. She gave birth to a child and a mythical creature, becoming an outcast. Later, she rejoined a pair of orphans and married one, bearing human children and bear cubs. Her family thrived, blending human and animal bonds, and found acceptance in a settlement where her sons married, securing happiness and legacy.

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

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Arnarsarsuak undergoes significant changes, both in her societal status and through the birth of her unique offspring, blending human and animal characteristics.

Community and Isolation: Initially part of her community, Arnarsarsuak becomes an outcast due to her circumstances, living in isolation before eventually reintegrating into society with her new family.

Supernatural Beings: The birth of a mythical creature and bear cubs to Arnarsarsuak introduces elements of the supernatural, highlighting interactions between humans and otherworldly entities.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

Arnarsarsuak was a pretty girl, much courted by the best seal-hunters of the neighbourhood. Her brothers being unwilling to let her get married, she at length took up with a fellow and lived with him as his concubine. Before long she was with child, but notwithstanding, her brothers still continued loving her dearly. One day she had been out to fetch water, and at the very moment she was about to enter she chanced to hear her sisters-in-law within talking about her, saying to each other, “I wonder who ever will care to be troubled with the charge of that wretch Arnarsarsuak is going to give birth to.” On hearing these words, she at once put down her pails in the passage, and ran off far to the inland, away from humankind.

► Continue reading…

During her flight she perceived that the time had come when she should be delivered; she fell into a deep swoon, and on recovering found she had given birth to a kingulerak [an anghiak who remained attached to the mother on account of her being kivigtok, until she had revenged herself]. Formerly, in the days of her prosperity, she had been kind and charitable to two orphan children, a boy and a girl, who lived among them. Many years after, when Arnarsarsuak’s brothers were all dead, the two orphans took up their abode at a solitary place out on some far away islands. When the brother was following his trade in his kayak the sister felt miserably lonely; to make up for which, however, when he again returned she felt as if the house were full of visitors. One evening when they were sitting chatting together, the brother suddenly said, “I think I shall try to recall the song that Arnarsarsuak used to sing.” But the sister advised him rather to desist, saying, “Remember that Arnarsarsuak now belongs to those of uncommon kind, having fled from mankind during her pregnancy. I have heard that such people have the gift of hearing their own songs a long way off.” However, the brother would not give up his intention; but no sooner had he commenced singing than a voice was heard outside, “On hearing my song I could not resist coming, and here I am.” The brother and sister looked at each other in great alarm, knowing that their house was far away from any one. However, they soon recognised the voice to be Arnarsarsuak’s, on which the sister resumed, “Did not I tell thee she would be sure to hear thee singing? now go and answer, thou being the best talker of us.” The brother, however, did not stir; and the voice was again heard, “Ye need not be afraid of me; I only want to get inside.” Seeing her brother could find no words, the sister said, “Well, come in;” and presently a sound was heard of something creeping along the passage, while the two shrank back on the ledge in silence, with a sure foreboding that the next moment they would be frightened to death. The sound rapidly approached; they only ventured a timid glance towards the entrance, and immediately after Arnarsarsuak entered, prettier than ever, and said, “I was lately far from this place, in the interior, whence I was suddenly lured by some voice calling me hither.” The sister now took courage to say, “It was only for a pastime he tried to sing thy lay.” Arnarsarsuak continued, “Ye know why I fled; it was because I heard my sisters-in-law observing that no one would be found willing to provide for my poor offspring. On that day I ran far off into the interior, when I was soon to give birth to a kingulerak, which ever since adhered to my body till a few days ago. In my present state ye have nothing to fear from me, and I would be very glad to come and stay with you.” Seeing that they had no choice, and could not get rid of her, they allowed her room on the farthest end of the ledge, and themselves lay down, leaving a wide space between them; still they were quite unable to fall asleep. The following day the brother wanted to go out hunting; his sister, however, persuaded him to stay at home on account of her new housemate, whom they still considered rather a doubtful personage. On the ensuing day he went out kayaking, but kept so near to the house as not to lose sight of them for any length of time. In the evening, however, he returned, bringing with him two seals, and the sister at once ran down as usual to flense and cut up the animals, but Arnarsarsuak would not allow it, taking all the work on herself; and having quickly flensed both seals, she made up a fire, and while she did the cooking she sewed at the same time. As time went by, and their fears subsided, the brother resolved to marry her; but when she came to be pregnant the sister began to fear she would bear no human offspring, and in that case she said, “Whither am I to flee? seeing we live on an island, I can only rush down to the sea.” When her time had come, the brother as well as the sister determined to run away from the house; but when the brother turned back to have a last look through the window, his wife turned towards him, saying, “It is all over, and the birth has taken place. Do not fear, but come in to me.” On hearing this he hastened to bring his sister back. When they returned, Arnarsarsuak sat smiling kindly on them, and said, “Behold the object of your fears, my two babes.” She then showed them a little bear cub and a real child. Both were nursed together, and when the bear had begun to go about by himself she again bore a child and another little bear.

In due time the father gave his boys kayaks, and the bears of their own account went out for provender; and at length the father could afford to take things easy, and rest from work. Subsequently he proposed that they should all set out together in search of other people, thinking that the children ought not to live always at such a desolate place. Accordingly they started northwards, the sons following in their kayaks, while the bears kept swimming alongside the boat. Travelling on thus, they at length came in sight of a well-peopled place; on this the bears stuck closer to the boat, and out of bashfulness only papped their muzzles above water. The father remarked, “Don’t be ashamed; remember ye also are of human extraction.” However, on landing a little south of the settlement they were received by a number of people, who on seeing two large bears ran off for their weapons. But on the father calling to them, “What are you thinking of? they also are my children,” they desisted. The new-comers took up their winter quarters at this place, where the sons both got married, and all lived happy together. When the weather was too bad for the men to go out hunting, the bears went off in their stead. After wintering there they again broke up for their old home, and were joined by several people of the place, who accompanied them thither, where their bones now rest.

Inuarutligak, whose Christian name was Peter Rantholl

This tale recounts the mythical origins and life of the Inuarutligak, a dwarf-elf people from Greenlandic lore. Initially unafraid of humans, they retreated after a deadly feud, using enchanted weapons and extraordinary abilities like reshaping geography and altering size. Their journeys northward introduced encounters with hybrid beings and mysterious creatures. They aged uniquely, rejuvenating by leaping from cliffs five times before succumbing to natural or tragic ends.

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

► Themes of the story

Mythical Creatures: The story introduces the Inuarutligak, dwarf-elf beings with supernatural abilities, and describes encounters with other fantastical entities, such as hybrids with human upper bodies and canine lower bodies.

Conflict with Authority: A significant conflict arises when a human kills an Inuarutligak, leading to a retaliatory killing by the gnomes. This feud results in the Inuarutligak retreating to isolated areas, highlighting themes of vengeance and the consequences of defying societal norms.

Transformation: The Inuarutligak possess the ability to alter geography and their own size, demonstrating their transformative powers. Additionally, their unique aging process, involving rejuvenation through cliff-leaping, underscores themes of physical transformation and the cyclical nature of life.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

A tale from North Greenland

In times far back, the ancestors of this same Inuarutligak (viz., fabulous dwarf-islander or mountain-elf) are said to have lived at the southernmost point of the country, at a place called Kutserfik; and this was before they had learned to be shy of human beings. Just about that time a lasting enmity sprang up between them on account of an Inuarutligak being killed by a man; and ever after, they say that the gnomes have resorted to desert places, making hollows in the earth for their abodes, and shunning the society of man. Thirsting for vengeance, they in return killed a man whom they chanced to meet with on one of their excursions. Being sadly in want of proper arms, they found a large willow-bush on the sunny side of the Kutserfik-mount.

► Continue reading…

Its form was like a man bending down on his knees and supporting his hand against the ground. From one of its roots they made a weapon not larger in size than a closed fist, shaped like a pistol; and at the end they put a little black stone, with a little red one on the top of it. This instrument, when finished, they named the pointing weapon. Knowing and fearing its killing powers for their own kith and kin, they are said always to have carried it in their hand. At this time the Inuarutligak of our tale was born. His father’s name was Malerke; that of the eldest son Kinavina; of the second, Kook; of the third, Asarfe; and of the fourth, Sersok, of whom we are going to tell. Being given to moving about, his parents and relatives set out on a journey to the north, and travelled on for several years successively, always passing the winter in hollows in the earth, and starting again in the early spring. It is told that they once met with some singular people, whose upper limbs were those of human beings, but below the waist they were shaped like dogs. These creatures were armed with bows, and dreadful to behold, and could catch the scent of man and beast against the wind like animals. One winter they covered the whole inside of their abode under ground with a single skin — that of the large beast called kilivfak, the one with six legs. The story goes that when they had eaten the flesh of this animal, the bones were covered anew with flesh, but only up to the sixth time; and despite its strength and size, they killed it with the above-mentioned instrument, by merely pointing at it. They also knew how to diminish the distance from one place to another, by drawing the various parts of the country closer, and performed this by merely kneeling down together and spreading their arms out towards the mountain-tops; but finding some of them too high to spread their arms over, the foremost crossed the already contracted parts with one long stride, the others one by one following in his tracks. Whenever one of them was unfortunate enough to make a false step, several of them were left far behind for a long time.

After a journey of several years, they arrived at Ikerasarsuak (at the mouth of Wygat Straits), a place where lived Inuarutligaks, as well as Inoruseks. There they settled to wait till the frost should cover the ground with ice and make it possible to join those on the other side. Starting again in spring, and passing several winters at different places, they at length reached Noosak on the continent, and came to their long-wished-for relatives, and there they lived for many winters. People say that at the beginning of the journey to the north the high mountains were still without ice, and Ikerasarsuak without any glacier.

These elves had two different ways of clothing themselves — one suit they had fitting their natural size, and the other was large enough to fit a man. During their wandering they wore their own proper clothes, carrying the large ones with them, ready to put on in case they should get some heavy load to carry. They could then, by beating themselves, reach human size. Their way of regaining their natural appearance was by bending down to enter their cave, and hitting the crown of their heads against the roof, on which they dwindled down to their ordinary smallness.

An angakok at Noosak, whose wife was childless, wanted to buy a child from the Inuarutligaks, and offered to pay for him with three knives, a piece of bearskin, and some whalebones already twisted into fishing-lines. Malerke, on seeing them, grew very desirous of these things; and having got them, he gave the knives to his three sons, but the fourth and youngest he sold in exchange for them. His new father brought him home, and went to hide him behind the house. At night, however, he got inside, and at once slipped into the womb of his mother, on which account it was said that he was in a state of perfect consciousness while he remained in his mother’s womb.

These elves were long in turning old; their youth was renewed five times over. On getting old the first time, they let themselves fall head-long down a precipice, and in this way regained the vigour and elasticity of youth. After repeating this five succeeding times, it was useless to try a sixth. This practice of letting themselves fall down they called Inutsungnartok. They never die young, but only after having undergone their five separate ages, excepting those who are killed by snowslips.

The strong man on Umanak

A renowned angakok and hunter on Umanak Island trains his son to inherit his skills. When the son goes missing at sea, the father encounters supernatural kayakers responsible for his son’s dismemberment. He defeats them and revives his son through their power, borrowing a giant kayak for the return journey. The son’s defiance of a warning about the kayak leads to his injury and a villager’s death.

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 protagonist encounters and combats supernatural kayakers responsible for his son’s dismemberment.

Transformation: The father revives his son through the supernatural power of the kayakers, indicating a significant change from death to life.

Forbidden Knowledge: The son’s defiance of a warning about the giant kayak leads to his injury and a villager’s death, suggesting the peril of pursuing or ignoring forbidden knowledge.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

On the isle of Umanak in the Isortok firth (South Greenland) lived a very strong man, among many other people. He gained great fame from his great strength, and was likewise considered a first-rate hunter and skilled angakok. He was in fact a main provider for the whole place, and their angakok into the bargain. He used to take his little son on his knee when conjuring, in order to teach him his art. The people had no lack of good hunting off the coast in the autumn season; but after the winter solstice the angakok used to roam about on the open sea all by himself, and when he had caught a couple of big seals, he used to put them upon his kayak, one in front and the other behind (viz., instead of towing them), making them fast with his harpoon-line.

► Continue reading…

Before the sun had gone round to the west he was sure to have reached home with his two seals; and then lost no time in ordering the women to cook the briskets. When the meal was served, the men sat down to it, and generally the angakok started the conversation by saying, “I was again caught in a heavy snowstorm from the north.” This seemed very strange, for on shore the weather had been fine, and far away seawards only a small mist-band had been noticed. Being a man of such rare qualities, he naturally wished his son to come up to his own standard, and carefully trained him with this view. When full grown the son also would go far out to sea in all weathers, and bring big seals home with him. From that time the father grew quite easy about him, and occasionally remained at home himself, though perfectly hale and hearty. Once in the long days the son had started by himself, and at night the father in vain expected his return. The next morning at daybreak he set out in search of him. When so far from land that the southern islands looked quite dim and shadowy, he heard a voice calling out “Eek!” On hearing this strange voice, which he soon knew did not belong to any of his countrymen, he hastened on southwards, steering towards the sun; and in a little while he suddenly stopped short, again hearing a voice shouting “Where?” Soon after he came in sight of an immense kayak, and on nearing it found it to be a kayariak (fabulous kayaker). The huge kayaker had a paddle with only one blade, which he plied vigorously by shifting it alternately from one side of the kayak to the other. Approaching him from behind, he discovered one of his son’s arms lashed on to the after-part of the kayariak. At this sight he got into such a rage that he instantly darted his harpoon and killed the kayaker. Having drawn out the harpoon, whose point was the length of half an arm, he kayaked still further along, until he heard the former cry repeated. He answered it, and continuing his way soon fell in with another kayaker, who carried the second arm of his son, aft on his kayak. Having killed him also, he stood out to sea, till the high mountains of his own country were almost lost to sight. He again heard a deep rough voice, belonging to a similar kayaker, who was the father of the two he had already killed. The weather being calm, with a swell from the south-west, he put in his oar, and having secured it by means of the kayak-line, drifted along, steering only with his hands. Approaching the great kayaker thus, he discovered his son’s body behind him on his kayak. He did not throw his lance, but rowed right in upon him, and kept alongside of him by hooking his oar into the stranger’s kayak-straps. This somewhat startled the former, and he was heard to exclaim, “Where are those whom I am seeking?” and then the angakok understood of whom he was speaking. Turning landwards, they soon fell in with one kayak, floating bottom up. The angakok now inquired, “Canst thou revive him there?” To this the kayariak rejoined, “Why, yes, I could;” and lifting the wounded man up he merely touched him, and brought him to life again. Then they reached the next, and the father did the same to him. Being now four in number, the angakok went on, “Perhaps ye would not mind making him alive too whom ye have got there on your kayak.” The other replied, “It might be done if a fitting place can be found to manage it properly.” On reaching a piece of floating ice they landed upon it, and when the kayariak had joined the severed limbs together, and had revived him that had been slain, the father said, “What is to be done next? he has got no kayak; can’t we have the loan of one of those?” “Well, take it, but be sure ye bring it back immediately, and when ye land do not let any one look into it.” The angakok now returned with his son, who found his kayak such a size that he went down into it to the pit of his arms. On reaching land he cried out that no one must look down into the big kayak. But one unbeliever among their placemates did so, in consequence of which the son of the angakok who had made use of it grew lame in his legs. The unbeliever also was found close by, having been frightened to death at something he had seen inside the big kayak. Meantime the angakok brought the kayak back to the big man, who stood waiting for him on the ice. The sons now both descended into their kayaks, but the father remained a while, and first took a general view of the whole horizon, and then producing a small pipe he had hidden in his own boat, he blew it successively towards the four quarters of the horizon, and then repaired to his boat. When the angakok left them the weather was fine and calm, but he was hardly off before clouds arose, the sky became overcast, and all of a sudden a heavy gale was blowing. The wind rushing on from different quarters almost prevented his making the land. However, he went ahead undauntedly, having a first-rate kayak covered with skins, joined together lengthways. When the storm abated, and the stars again shone out, a high land became visible, which he recognised to be Akilinek, on the shore opposite his own. He was again caught in a tempest; but this having also subsided, he landed at the southernmost point of our country (Cape Farewell), and finally reached his own home, where his family had long believed him dead.

Ernersiak the foster-son

Ernersiak, a young boy, endures the loss of his stepmother, unjustly killed by suspicious brothers. Adopted by a strong man, he develops immense physical prowess and learns to kayak and hunt. Confronting adversaries and overcoming treachery, he becomes a feared and independent figure. His journey unfolds through struggles, survival, and eventual dominance in the harsh Arctic, shaping him into a resilient, enigmatic hero of his community.

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

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Ernersiak evolves from a vulnerable child into a formidable figure through training and personal growth.

Revenge and Justice: He confronts and overcomes those who wronged him and his stepmother, restoring his honor.

Trials and Tribulations: Ernersiak faces numerous challenges, including loss, betrayal, and physical confrontations, which he must overcome to achieve his eventual dominance.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

Little Ernersiak lived with an aged stepmother at a place where a number of men, who were all brothers, housed together, and at that same place there was also an immensely strong man. In the autumn the youngest brother fell sick, and getting worse and worse at length died. They all agreed in suspecting Ernersiak’s mother of having caused his death, and they only waited a time when they should find her alone in the house to charge her with the deed. One morning Ernersiak furnished himself with some strings, and went away to set up fox-traps, and the brothers, profiting by his absence, entered and struck the old woman dead.

► Continue reading…

But the strong man took pity on Ernersiak; and when he saw him returning he went out to meet him, and said, “Don’t thou go into the tent; thou won’t see her any more; the brothers killed her this morning as soon as thou wert gone;” and the strong man adopted him, and, for want of a better, gave him a bit of his dear mother’s backbone for an amulet. The strong man brought him up, and trained him according to the rules of strength: early in the morning he lifted him off his couch by the hairs only, and the boy did not awake till he was put down on his feet. His new parents gave him a suit of clothes, but these did not last long, because he had always to exercise himself throwing and carrying stones. One evening, when they were late up, his new father took a skin, and spreading it on the floor he began to teach him how to draw hook and crook. But he admonished him not to join the other children at ball-playing, and for this reason Ernersiak was always seen standing with one arm out of his sleeve (a token of modesty), and regarding them from a safe distance. One day, however, while he was thus looking on, he got a severe stroke on the top of his head, at which he fell to the ground in a swoon; when he came to himself, nobody was near. Another time he was again struck down in the same manner, but on rising he plainly saw some one sneaking away. Hurrying after him, he found him hiding behind a rock; and making right up to him, he took hold of him by the collar of his jacket, and, hurling him several times round in the air, flung him to the ground with such force that the blood gushed out of his mouth and nose. “Ernersiak has been up to mischief,” was now all the cry; and a large skin was produced to carry the wounded boy away upon, while Ernersiak seated himself on a little mound in front of the house. Soon after the kayakers were seen to return, and they were welcomed with the same cry — “Ernersiak has been up to mischief.” When his foster-father heard this, he speedily loosened his towing-line, and running up to Ernersiak said that they intended to kill him. The brothers by this time had also got on shore, and hearing what had happened, one among them ran to fetch his spear, the others all following him. The father of the wounded boy flung his lance with all his strength at Ernersiak, who remained sitting, his back turned towards them; and though Ernersiak remained unhurt, the lance was broken in pieces. The others now tried their lances, but with no better luck. In this manner, we are told, his foster-mother’s amulet wrought its first wonder. They now gathered round him and caught hold of him; but though they were so many that he could hardly be seen in the crowd, they were not able to throw him over. All of a sudden, he turned round upon them, seized them one by one by their fur collars, and hurled them all bleeding to the ground. His foster-father now advised him to stop, lest he should get too many enemies, upon which he followed him into the house, where he seated himself, but could not be made to eat or speak. In the evening his foster-father fetched him some liver, hoping he would relish that, and on entering with it, remarked, “The very last boat is now leaving us, and we shall have no neighbours henceforth.” On hearing this, he leaned forward and chuckled grimly, well knowing that he had been the cause of their hasty departure; he enjoyed the idea vastly, and from that moment he began to find his appetite. His father, who now deemed it only fair that he should have his own kayak, set to building him one, and subsequently began to teach him how to manage it, and before long the pupil proved himself very apt at paddling as well as hunting in kayak. When his father awoke in the morning, his son had already fetched his kayak-jacket, and when the father went away for his own jacket, the son was already seated in his kayak, waiting for his father, and invariably returned home with some capture. One day he had been waiting in his kayak for his father to come down and start with him; but thinking him too long about it he paddled away alone, following the coast southwards, and there, behind a cape, he suddenly fell in with another kayaker. This man, however, did not recognise Ernersiak, because he left him before he had got his kayak. He asked him to go with him and visit his people; and presently they came upon a place covered with tents, in front of which a number of people were engaged in building boats, kayaks, &c. On catching sight of Ernersiak and his companion, they shouted, “Look there! Ernersiak has turned a kayaker.” At this moment Ernersiak’s companion paddled on in advance of him, intending to make the shore before him; but Ernersiak followed him close, and almost before “He is going to kill thee” had escaped the bystanders, Ernersiak lifted his harpoon and killed him from behind, then paddling up to him, drew it out and turned his back upon them. Having passed the cape he put ashore and climbed the top, there to await his pursuers; but when night set in, and no one had as yet appeared, he again set off for home. On reaching it he sulked, and would not eat. His father guessed he had been guilty of some murder, and then went on warning him against making too many enemies for himself. After this he was again persuaded to take some food. The following day the father kayaked the same way past the cape, and came in sight of the tents, with the people at work outside them. He paddled quite close to the beach and cried out, “If ye remain in this neighbourhood I and my son Ernersiak won’t fail to despatch the whole of you; but I have heard of plenty good hunting away to the north, and I will encourage him to go thither.” After this speech he returned, and did not fail to tell his son the exciting report, and found him very anxious to try that place. In the spring they left their old quarters, and travelled northwards the whole summer-time. Just as the frost was beginning to harden the earth a little, they got to a place with many tents, and being hailed from land to put in there, they went ashore accordingly. They were very civilly received, and were not allowed to trouble themselves about their luggage; the inhabitants of the place unloaded and carried it all up for them. It happened that Ernersiak being somewhat fatigued with kayaking, had seated himself in the boat for a rest; and on finding his tools and weapons so heavy that they had to carry them on their shoulders, the people remarked, that he was not likely ever to have more use for them. The foster-father overhearing their talk, in the evening repeated it to Ernersiak, who, tickled at the idea, burst out laughing. This was his first mirth since the murder. In this place they passed the winter. One morning, on coming outside, Ernersiak was astonished not to see any one about the houses as usual; but on glancing round he observed them standing on a hilltop looking out upon the sea. When he had joined them, they enlightened him as to the reason, saying, “We are watching the red walrus.” Ernersiak, on seeing the ocean all a foam, hastened down to his kayak, and set off towards them. He soon detected a large walrus, comparatively quiet. When he came close to it, the animal lifted its head above the surface, and holding back its breath quietly regarded him; but when it had come quite close, it tossed back its head, blew a great puff of air at him, and rushed towards him, while he kept steadily moving in upon it. About the distance of an arrow-shot, he aimed his weapon at it, and when the animal bent down and curved its back, he lanced and thrust, instantly despatching it. Having towed it ashore, he went back to catch one more before he landed for good himself. Towards spring they again prepared to go south, but their hosts invited them to come back and pass the winter with them. They thanked them very kindly, but being once more in the south, they stopped, and never afterwards visited the north.

The angakok Tugtutsiak

Tugtutsiak, an orphan, leads children in a spirit-conjuring ritual that spirals into chaos. His powers are revealed when he faces supernatural trials, including a bear and walrus flinging him to a mysterious land. There, he aids a suffering woman, encounters strange creatures, and returns home wounded but revered. As his wounds heal, he brings prosperity through abundant hunting, proving his mystical abilities.

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

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: Tugtutsiak’s encounters with spirits, a bear, a walrus, and other mystical entities highlight interactions with supernatural forces.

Trials and Tribulations: The challenges Tugtutsiak faces, including being tossed between a bear and a walrus and aiding a suffering woman in a mysterious land, exemplify a series of tests that he must overcome.

Transformation: Tugtutsiak’s journey from an orphaned child to a revered shaman who brings prosperity to his community illustrates significant personal and spiritual change.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

This tale, only received in one copy, has been adopted for the present collection on account of its referring to the process of being angakok poolik, frequently mentioned by the older authors in connection with the Greenlanders.

Tugtutsiak and his sister were a couple of orphans, and lived in a great house. It once happened that all the grown-up people went away berry-gathering, leaving all children at home. Tugtutsiak, who was the eldest of them, said, “Let us try to conjure up spirits;” and some of them proceeded to make up the necessary preparations, while he himself undressed, and covered the door with his jacket, and closed the opening at the sleeves with a string. He now commenced the invocation, while the other children got mortally frightened, and were about to take flight.

But the slabs of the floor were lifted high in the air, and rushed after them. Tugtutsiak would have followed them, but felt himself sticking fast to the floor, and could not get loose until he had made the children come back, and ordered them to uncover the door, and open the window, on which it again became light in the room, and he was enabled to get up.

► Continue reading…

He told his companions not to mention it to the old ones when they returned; but as soon as the boat landed in the evening some of the younger children forgot their promise, and said: “We have had great fun today; Tugtutsiak played at angakok, and when we got frightened and took to our heels, the slabs rose up from their place on the floor and followed after us.” The elder people were astonished, but agreed to let him try it over again in the evening. At this proposal Tugtutsiak got frightened, and took to crying; but afterwards, when the hunting became bad, they wanted him to conjure up the sea-animals, and he was made to sit down and call forth a bear and a walrus, which were soon roaring outside the house. The bear went ashore and took hold of Tugtutsiak, and flung him along to the walrus, which again hurled him out to the bear. In this manner Tugtutsiak alternately was thrust from the walrus to the bear, and from the bear to the walrus, until he lost sight of his native country, and at length a new land rose in front of him; but this country was lower than the one he had left. Close to the shore the bear for the last time seized hold of him, and threw him upon the beach. Having got there, his senses revived, and close beside him he observed a house, and on the roof, above the passage leading to it, was a terrible dog, which, showing his white teeth, howled and snarled at him when he drew nigh. Nevertheless he approached, and for the first time observed that a bridge as narrow as a knife’s edge led into the inner room, which appeared totally dark. Still he proceeded, and made his way to the main room, where the female owner of the house lay on the ledge, suffering great pain. Her hair was all loose and dishevelled, and her face turned to the wall. On seeing Tugtutsiak, she started to her feet, crying out aloud, “What hast thou come for? thou canst not take away what makes me suffer.” But from the narrow passage he rushed right upon her, took hold of her by the hair, and flung her against the door-post. Having, however, got his hands entangled in her long hair, he was himself dragged along with her, and could not extricate himself. He tried to throw her off, but his hands could not be got loose; and she surrendered herself to him, saying, “Now I see thou mayst be capable of removing my sufferings.” On closer examination Tugtutsiak found her eyes, nostrils, and mouth stuffed with dirt and filth. He cleaned it away, and threw it outside, after which the hideous woman grew somewhat composed, and after a while resumed, “Now do my hair.” He put it up in the usual tuft, upon which she took down some eagles’ wings from a nail in the wall, and stirred up the smoking lamp, so as to make it burn brightly. For the first time he could now see that the walls were hung with skins like those used for boat-covers; and though the lamp was now burning quite clearly, he could not distinguish any objects in the more remote parts of the room, which were in total darkness. A moment after he heard the horrible woman saying, “My guest ought not to go alone; let some one accompany him out: “and presently a little man with a very short nose emerged from out of the wall, and after him a host of similar creatures, who all passed out of the doorway; when the last had vanished, they were all heard to cry out, “Kah, kah — sa, sa!” just like the shrieks of auks. Other varieties followed soon-some with flat noses, and others with crooked ones; but when they were getting too numerous she cried “Stop!” When the last were about to pass Tugtutsiak, he scratched some of them in the forehead, because he noticed that they were transfigured as soon as they passed the doorway, and he put a mark upon some of the most beautiful specimens, that he might know them again if he happened to catch them. Afterwards several other curious creatures appeared, some of them with large heads and great beards, and as soon as they were getting too numerous she again cried “Stop!” When these had all passed by, he observed that the lamp burned still brighter, and the way through the passage was now quite smooth, and sufficiently wide, and the dog wagged his tail quite amicably at him. Simultaneously with all these strange doings, his house-fellows at home observed that his belongings were shaking. On his way home he was again alternately thrown along by the bear and the walrus; but the last time by the bear, and he gained his homestead, where his relatives sat singing for him on his return. Being apprised of his arrival through the noise caused by his entrance, a great man among them gave orders, “Light the lamp for him;” and they could now see that no single spot of his body had remained unwounded. This arose from the teeth of the bear and the walrus, and they could not hear him breathe. The lamps were again extinguished, and the singing commenced; some time after he began to revive a little, but at daybreak they saw that his wounds were not yet healed, and so they continued the singing. There happened to be among them one ostentatious fellow, who on the following morning went out to have a look at the ice. On his return he exclaimed, “I guess it will be a meagre hunt he will procure us;” but Tugtutsiak only muttered, “Wait a bit — let my wounds first heal, and then we will see;” and when they began healing, a gale from the south-east had suddenly set in. A man who had gone out to reconnoitre quickly returned, reporting that the ice was rapidly receding from the shore, and instantly afterwards auks and dovekies were seen in numbers. The inhabitants soon hastened out with their fowling-spears, and they had their kayaks filled before evening. The boaster, however, only got one bird. When they began to catch seals, they gave to the angakok the first one they caught, of all varieties; and he examined all he got closely, hoping to find out those he had marked, but all in vain. Some time after, however, the report came that far away at Illulissat there had been caught a thong-seal and a spotted seal both with a mark right between the eyes.

The old bachelor

A peculiar old bachelor disliked singing, yet a magical song from a boat lured him into an extraordinary journey. Tied to the boat, he soared through the air, visiting a mystical house where he learned the song. Returning home, he faltered on a mountaintop, forgetting the magic tune but remembered it just in time to escape death. He arrived home, marking his first and final airborne adventure.

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 protagonist encounters a magical boat and crew capable of flight, indicating interactions with supernatural entities.

Forbidden Knowledge: The bachelor learns a magic song that enables flight, representing the pursuit and acquisition of hidden or restricted truths.

Transformation: The journey leads to a significant change in the bachelor’s character, as he overcomes his dislike for singing and gains new experiences.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

There was once a queer old bachelor who had a singular dislike to singing: whenever he heard people sing, he would take himself off immediately. One day, being out at his hunting-place off the coast, he heard people singing, and it proved to proceed from the crew of a boat which was going up the firth right against the wind, and without being rowed. This song pleased him; and he went up to the boat, which he several times noticed to be lifted up into the air, soon to sink down again on the surface of the water, and constantly advancing, although the crew seemed resting on their oars all the while.

► Continue reading…

He now asked leave to be one of the party; and the steersman said he might follow them if he chose, but that he must keep close to them; upon which they tied his kayak to the boat, and then continued singing, kangatarsa, kangatarsartigut! (let us be taken aloft!) imakaja, ah, ha, ha. They were instantly lifted up and taken away across the country. Being now on the top of a very high mountain, they took a little rest there, but soon after travelled on through the air until they alighted close beside a house. They discharged the boat; and the old bachelor also got out of his kayak on land, and be entered a house to pay them a visit. He came to like them, remained with them, and learned their magic song. But at length he bethought himself of his relatives, who were sure to be missing him, and be concerned about his fate, and be resolved to return. His hosts proceeded to fill his kayak with victuals, after which he got in: and singing the magic lay, he flew away in the same direction he had formerly come from; but when he reached the high mountain, he got a strong fancy to repose for a while on the summit of it, which happened to be a very steep peak. After a while he wanted to be off again, but found that he had suddenly forgotten the lay, and then he sat down all at a loss on the steep mountain-side. At last he lost his balance, and was about to fall down. He tried to catch hold of the proper words, and sang, “’immakaja!’ — no; not quite that; ‘kanajaja!’ — no, that’s not it neither;” and now he began crying and tumbling down the precipice. When he was quite close to the stone-heaps at the foot of the mountain, he remembered the song, and was again carried through the air, and thus saved from destruction. At last he saw his dwelling-place, where his house-fellows had quite given him up for lost. They were just assembled outside, when all at once they heard a song from above, and looking upwards, perceived a kayaker overhead rushing through the air, and before long they recognised their own old bachelor. He directed his course staight towards the entrance, never stopping until he sat right down on the ledge, his kayak’s point crushing against the wall of the room; and this was his first and last journey through the air.

The solitary kayaker

A skilled kayaker frequented a solitary hunting spot but encountered a talkative neighbor who eventually grew silent due to his wife’s illness. After the wife’s death, a series of violent events unfolded, resulting in the destruction of a community. Survivors—a widow, her son, and an adopted daughter—endured harsh winters, narrowly avoiding starvation. The son, revealed as an angakok (shaman), revived the deceased daughter, whom he later married. They lived peacefully thereafter.

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

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The son, revealed as an angakok (shaman), demonstrates transformative abilities by reviving the deceased daughter, leading to significant changes in their lives.

Loss and Renewal: The community experiences destruction and loss, but the survivors endure hardships, leading to a renewal of life and relationships, exemplified by the son’s marriage to the revived daughter.

Supernatural Beings: The son’s role as an angakok introduces elements of the supernatural, particularly through his shamanic practices, including reviving the deceased.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Inuit/Eskimo Lore

Learn more about the Inuit peoples

There was once a kayaker who had only one certain hunting-place to which he always resorted, and whither he was never accompanied by any one else. He was well skilled in his craft, and generally brought home a great quantity of seals. Not far off, to the north of his habitation, lived a number of other people in a large house with three windows. One day he had started as usual for his solitary hunting-ground; but for the first time found it preoccupied by another hunter. On coming closer to him, he recognised in him one of his northern neighbours. This man spoke to him and was so talkative that the other found it rather difficult to mind his work.

► Continue reading…

At home he reported, “Today I at length had a fellow joining me at my hunting-place; he turned out to be one of our neighbours: but tomorrow I intend to be off earlier and try to forestall him.” Accordingly he started sooner than was his wont, but on reaching the place, he found that the other man had already arrived, and was even more loquacious than on the first day. It was almost daybreak before they had begun their work. When they had both caught their seals they returned. But the first kayaker on coming home, remarked, “It seems almost impossible to be beforehand with this man; however, I will try it once more.” He started early the following morning, while it was still pitch-dark; but the other one was on the spot. He rowed close up to him, hoping to find him in his usual polite mood, but today he did not speak at all; not until daybreak did he utter a single word, and then went away. The next day it was the same thing over again, he never spoke till sunrise; then he remarked, “Today she remained in bed altogether; the day before yesterday she fell sick, and all the while she is growing worse and worse.” It is to be understood that he was speaking of his wife, and this was the reason why he had thus changed. He now added, “If thou dost not meet me here tomorrow, thou mayst judge that she is still worse, and then pray look in upon us tomorrow and see how we are doing.” Then the other made some further inquiry, and went home with his catch, relating his adventure to his family. He did not meet his new comrade the next day, and therefore called on him the day after. Entering the house, he found all the men within; not one of them was out kayaking that day. He entered the room and there remarked a man sitting far back upon the ledge and staring straight before him, and he soon recognised him to be his former companion. His wife had died and he had already buried her. Observing the general silence, he rose and moved alongside the widower, saying — “I have come to give thee some solace; thou wilt be sure to stand in need of some one to talk to thee at such an unhappy time: and if thou wouldst like it, I will bethink me of something to tell thee.” But at this the widower uttered some unintelligible words, at the same time looking very fierce and angry. Suddenly he advanced and took hold of the visitor by the throat and threw him down into the doorway. Taking it all for a jest, he quickly got up and re-entered the room; but he was again seized and thrust right against the doorposts and broke his spine, which immediately caused his death. The murderer again with downcast eyes seated himself on the ledge. Meanwhile a youth, the son of a widow, coolly proceeded to whet his knife; and when he had got it well sharpened, he sprang up behind the widower and made a long cut on each side of his back; the blood rushed out, and in a few minutes he fell down dead. At this sight they all got infuriated and took to their knives, and a terrible slaughter ensued; the widow and her son, with an adopted daughter were the only ones that remained unhurt; and having made their escape through the window, they went to take up their abode in the storehouse. But subsequently the winter became very severe, and the frost fearfully keen, so that the widow’s son at last had to give up hunting, and remain indoors. They had almost finished their stock of provisions, only a few angmagsat (small dried fish) and a small bag with blubber were still left; and accordingly they could not afford to eat their fill every day. Not till supper-time did the widow venture to share out their portions. The son then got two and a half fish, while she herself and her step daughter had one and a half. Owing to this sensible management, they kept alive, though badly enough, and did not altogether starve with hunger, because they always got a morsel of blubber besides. For three succeeding days they went on like this, but on the fourth, the young man disappeared. However, he had only gone out to take a look round from some of the neighbouring heights. In the evening he put his weapons and tools to rights, and on the very next day he returned home, dragging an immense white whale with him. The women were transported with joy, and at once began to flense and cut it up; but presently the daughter complained of her feet being so dreadfully cold. This was because the blood of the fish had got into her boots and filled them. Her mother, however, pretended not to heed her, and told her to go on helping her. A little afterwards the girl said that she saw all the mountains double, and then she was ordered to go inside; but the moment she bent down to descend through the entrance, she broke in twain, and was dead on the spot. In the evening the son wrought a spell upon the body of the deceased, and not till then was her mother aware of his being an angakok. They extinguished the lamps and he called forth the spirits, and restored her to life and health. They all remained living together at this place, and he afterwards married his adopted sister. At length they died there without removing to any other place, and without any accidents ever happening to them.