Tag: 07. Quest

A journey undertaken to achieve a goal

Chaun story

The Lamut people living on the river Chaun are a branch of this tribe that has migrated farthest to the northeast. They are composed of stragglers from several clans of the Kolyma country, who came to the Chaun desert for various reasons; therefore, they do not form a separate clan. Their ways of living in the treeless tundra of Chaun, however, are different from those of all other Lamut, and are nearer to the mode of life of the Chukchee, among whom they dwell. They number about thirty or forty families.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1
New York, 1918

► Themes of the story

Quest: The young man’s journey to find other people and a wife represents a personal quest, driving the narrative forward.

Conflict with Authority: The young man’s defiance of his father’s advice and the subsequent tensions with his father-in-law illustrate challenges to familial and societal authority.

Community and Isolation: The protagonist’s initial integration into the new community, followed by his isolation due to cultural differences and moral disagreements, underscores the tension between belonging and estrangement.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Evens (Lamut)

Told by Hirkan, a Lamut man from the desert of Chaun, in the village of Nishne-Kolymsk, the Kolyma country, winter of 1896.

There was a Lamut man in the country of Chaun who went to East Cape to look for some thong-seal hides. He moved and moved, and so came to the very end of the country. He had with him his wife and also a son, young and active. All around the country was wholly deserted. Not a single trace of man was to be seen anywhere. The young man said, “I will go and look for people.” The father retorted, “Do not go! You will lose your way, and in any case you will find nothing.” — “No, I shall find them. And I shall even take a wife among them.”

He went away on snowshoes, and after a considerable time came to a river wholly unknown to him. There was a large camp there. Several tents were pitched in two clusters. In one of them lived a man who had a single daughter. He entered, and stayed with this family as an adopted son-in-law. One day the father-in-law said to him, “Let us go to the river to catch fish!”

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There was on the river a large open place. They set off. The son-in-law was very light of foot. He was the first to reach the open water. Without much ado he cast into the water his fish-line, and immediately felt something heavy on it. So he pulled it up, and there, caught on the hook, was a small child, human in appearance. He was much afraid, and threw the child back into the water. After that he again cast his fish-line back into the water, and in a moment drew out another human child. He threw it back into the water, but in the meantime the other people arrived. “Why are you throwing the fish back into the water?” said the old man angrily. If you do so, you will destroy our fishing luck and the fish is our existence. Everything will be destroyed.” — “Oh,” said the young man, “but I caught a human child! I was afraid.” — “I say, it was no child, it was a fish. You are playing jokes on us. Better go away! I was mistaken when I called you a reliable man. Be off! You are no longer my son-in-law.” They cast into the water their own fish lines, and after a while they also caught a small human child. They put it upon a long wooden spit and roasted it, before the fire. Then they sat down and made a meal of it. This done, they went back.

The human son-in-law felt very angry. So he also cast his line and angled for fish. He caught one after another, and all his fish were human. In a short time, he had collected a large heap. He covered them with sticks and stones, and went home late in the evening. “Where have you been the whole day long?” asked the father-in-law quite sternly. “I have been angling.” — “Caught anything?” — “I covered a large heap of fish with sticks and stones.” The old man was very glad. “Oh, indeed, you are the very son-in-law for me!” The spring was coming. The snow was covered with a hard crust. The old man said, “Let us go on snowshoes to hunt wild reindeer-bucks!” They went out on snowshoes, and came to a forest. The old man said to his son-in-law, “You must hide behind this large tree as we will drive the reindeer towards you, that you may kill them one by one.” The young man crouched behind the tree, having his bow ready. The other people drove the reindeer toward him. He saw running past him two giant men, all naked, with long hair that reached to the ground. He was so much frightened, that he did not dare to shoot at them.

The other people came. “Well,” asked the old man, “have you killed them?” — “Whom must I kill? Two giant men passed by, both naked, with hair hanging down to the very ground. I did not dare to shoot at them.” — “Ah!” said the old man angrily, “they were no men, they were wild reindeer-bucks. You spoil our hunting pursuit. This hunt is our very life. Be off! I was mistaken when I called you a reliable man. Cease being my son-in-law! Be gone from my house and family!”

They went home. The young man was angrier than ever. He ran to the forest and looked for some trace of those human reindeer-bucks. He found tracks and followed them. At last he saw those giant naked men. They were sitting on the ground leaning against the trees, and fast asleep. So he crept toward them and tied their long hair around the tree. Then he crept off and made a large fire on their windward side. They were killed by the smoke.

Late in the evening he came home. “Where have you been the whole day long?” — “I found those reindeer bucks and killed both of them.” Oh, they were very glad. Now they had plenty of food, but the son-in-law could not eat it. They slaughtered for him real reindeer. One day his wife said to him, “They are very angry with you because of those everlasting slaughters. They are going to kill you too. You had better flee to your own country.” — “And will you go with me?” — “Yes, I will.” — “And what will you eat in our land?” — “I shall eat fish and reindeer meat. I want no more human flesh.”

Once when she had to keep watch over the reindeer herd, she crept out of the tent quite naked. She took some new clothing from the large bags outside and put it on. They fled, and came to his father. There they made her walk three times around a new fire, and thus her mind was changed. After that they left that country and moved away. They went back to their own land and lived there.

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Tale about three storks

Here is the 55-60 word abstract for the provided text:

A man, unhappy with his monstrous wife, meets a water-woman who helps him find a cure. After many trials, he retrieves a stork to save her. He marries the water-woman, but on their journey home, his wife is kidnapped by an Eagle-Man. With the help of the youngest stork, she is rescued, and they live happily.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1
New York, 1918

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The story features entities like the She-Monster, the water-woman, and the Eagle-Man, highlighting interactions with supernatural beings.

Quest: The man’s pursuit to find a cure and later to rescue his wife from the Eagle-Man represents a classic quest narrative.

Love and Betrayal: The man’s relationships, from his forced marriage to the She-Monster to his union with the water-woman and her subsequent kidnapping, underscore themes of love and betrayal.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Yukaghir people

Told by Innocent Karyakin, a Tundra Yukaghir man, on the western tundra of the Kolyma country, winter of 1895.

There lived a man who did not know where he was born. We think, however, that we were born of this man. He was rich in everything. One time a She-Monster came to him and wanted to be his wife. The She-Monster said, “You must take me for your wife. Otherwise, I shall devour you.” So he married her, and they lived together. After some time he felt sorrowful and thought to himself, “Is it fair, that I being a man, so strong and rich, must have for a wife this unclean monster?”

He came to a water-hole, and sat down there. For three days and three nights he cried from vexation near the water-hole. One time, when he was crying there, a girl appeared out of the water. He said, “I am lonely. Sit down by my side and cry with me?” — “How can I sit by your side? Your Monster Wife will surely kill me.” The man spoke fair words to the girl.

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Three times she appeared out of the water-hole and talked to him. The She-Monster said, “What is the matter with you? For three nights in succession you have stayed near that water-hole. Did you not find another woman there to spend your nights with?” The man answered, “Where should I find a woman better than yourself? And why should I look for another woman?” They lay down and slept together.

Early in the morning the woman arose from the bed. She threw her thimble upon the man; and his sleep grew sound and strong, almost like death. He slept throughout the day, and on until midnight. The Monster-Woman took his bow and arrows and went to the water-hole. She lay there in ambush, holding the bow strung and ready to shoot. At last, the water-woman appeared out of the water-hole. The Monster-Woman shot at her, and hit her straight in the heart. She fell down, and sank to the bottom.

The Monster-Woman came home and picked up her thimble from the man’s bed. The man awoke instantly. He looked around, and said, “Ah! how long have I slept?” So he put on his clothes and ran to the water-hole. It was full of blood. He saw the blood, and cried bitterly. “Ah!” said he, “it is my wife who has spilled this blood.” He plunged into the water-hole head foremost.

When he reached the bottom, it was like another earth. He looked about, and saw that every bush had, instead of leaves, small copper bells, and the tussocks were covered with sableskin instead of moss. “What a fine place!” thought the man, and he walked onward along the beaten track. After a while, he came to a river. On the other shore stood a tent of Lamut type, made of silver. [The Lamut cover their tents with well curried reindeer skin. The Tundra Yukaghir use partly birchbark, partly reindeer skin clipped short and well smoked, bought chiefly from the Chukchee.] He came nearer and heard voices within. So he entered.

A woman lay on the bed of skins, moaning with pain. Two strong men were sitting by her, right and left. The men jumped up and laid hands upon the visitor. They shouted, “This man has killed our sister!” And they wanted to kill him on the spot; but the woman said, “Do not kill him! He did me no harm. His wife killed me.” He looked at her more closely. An arrow was sticking out from her heart, and the woman was ashen from pain. She moaned pitifully, and said, “Bring him nearer!” They brought him close to the woman, and he took his place by her bed. She cried, and he cried with her. He wanted to pull out the arrow; but the woman said, “Leave it alone! I shall die at your first touch. But if you want to restore me to life, go off across two stretches of land. In the third country you will see a silver hill and three she-storks are playing on it. You must creep close to them, and catch one of them. Then you must bring her to me.”

He set off, and after passing through these two countries he saw the silver hill. Three she-storks were playing on the hill, and amusing themselves with their stork-play. He tried to creep nearer, but after some time the storks noticed him. He fell to the ground full of despair, and in his despair he turned into a little shrew. Then he heard the storks talking to one another, plainly, in the Lamut language. The youngest one raised herself on her long legs, stretched her neck, and asked, “O sisters! where is that man? And what is coming now, so small and mouse-like?” The other said, “Why do you stretch your neck in such a manner? This is no man at all. Otherwise we should have noticed him sooner than you.” They flew up and circled around the hill.

In the meantime, the man had reached the top of the hill. The storks descended again; but the youngest said, “Ah! my heart misgives me. This man is hidden somewhere.” But the two others retorted, “Ah, nonsense! We should have noticed him sooner than you.” The two eldest ones descended to the hill; the third was still circling around in the air. All at once the shrew turned into a man, who caught one of the storks by her long leg. “Ah, ah, ah!” blubbered the stork, “and how does our other sister at home fare? Is she still living, or is she dead?” He told them everything. They were greatly moved and said, “Go home, and we will follow you.” He went home, and the three storks followed him on high, with much talking and many songs. He reached the house and entered it; but the storks were circling on high, singing their incantations. They wanted to pull out the arrow. The oldest said to the youngest, “Do try and pull out the arrow!” — “You are older than I. You have more skill than I.” — “No, we are unable to pull it out. Do try to get it out!” Then the youngest stork flew upward, and for a moment stood still directly over the vent hole of the silver tent. Then she dropped down like a stone; and when half way down, she soared up again. They looked up, and the arrow was in her beak.

The patient sat up directly and wiped away the tears of pain. Then she said, “Indeed, our youngest sister is a shaman.” She entered the house, and also praised the man. “Your heart is true. Will you take me for your wife?” He took her for his wife, and on the bridal night they slept in the silver tent; and the three female storks were circling above all night long, keeping watch over them and singing incantations. In the morning, the storks said to their two brothers, “You must send our brother-in-law, together with his wife, back to his home.” — “All right,” said the brothers. “Let them stay here for one day more, and then we will get them ready for the trip; but you must fly first, and see that everything in their home is in order.”

The storks flew off, and came to his house; and that very evening they came back. The man said to them, “How shall we go home? I have great fear for my young bride.” The storks answered, “Have no fear. We caught your old wife, and threw her into the sea. She turned into a big sea-worm.” The next morning they started on their journey; and the youngest stork warned them, “Be sure not to sleep on the way!” They moved on, he in front, and his young bride close behind him, both on reindeer-back. Half way along he was overpowered with sleep. Do what he would, he could not keep awake, and at last he fell from the saddle like one dead. The wife tried to wake him and said, “Did not our sisters warn us against sleeping in the way?” But he did not hear her words.

In the meantime, while she was busy over him, nudging him, and pulling him up, a big Eagle-Man with two heads came, and shouted, “I have been making suit for her since her earliest years.” The Eagle-Man caught her by her tresses and threw her upon his back. Then he flew off, and carried her along. After a while the man awoke, and his wife was nowhere to be seen. He cried from grief, and then looked around. No trace was left upon the snow, he saw only their own tracks made when they were coming to that place.

The three storks arrived. The youngest one said, “Did we not tell you not to go to sleep? Now what is to be done? The giant Eagle-Man is the mightiest of all creatures. They flew away in pursuit of the Eagle-Man. The young man followed behind on foot. After a while they overtook the Eagle. He was flying on, carrying the woman. Then the two elder storks told the youngest one, “Why, sister, we can do nothing. You alone must try your skill and good luck. All we can do is to aid your efforts.” “I will try,” said the youngest stork. She flew straight upwards, and vanished from sight. Then she fell straight down upon the Eagle, and snatched the young woman from his talons; and he still flew onward, noticing nothing at all. The youngest stork put the young woman upon her back and carried her back to her husband. They prepared for the journey again. The youngest stork said, “Now, you must go home. Nothing evil will befall you. You shall live there in wealth and good health. Children shall be born unto you every year. Take our blessing and go away.” They went on, and came to their country. There they saw that the silver Lamut tent was standing in their own place. They entered. They lived happily and quietly.

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Little-Bird-Man and Raven-Man

Two suitors — Raven-Man and Little-Bird-Man — compete for a daughter’s hand. After Little-Bird-Man successfully stops a snowstorm and restores light by releasing the sun, he marries the woman. Despite challenges including Raven-Man’s treachery and a fatal river crossing, the couple ultimately triumphs and lives prosperously with Big-Raven’s family.

Source
Koryak Texts
by Waldemar Bogoras
American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume V
(edited by Franz Boas)
E. J. Brill – Leyden, 1917

► Themes of the story

Good vs. Evil: The narrative contrasts the virtuous actions of Little-Bird-Man with the deceitful behavior of Raven-Man, highlighting the struggle between opposing moral forces.

Trickster: Raven-Man embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning and deceit in his attempts to win Big-Raven’s daughter, such as falsely claiming credit for hunting successes and causing darkness by hiding the sun.

Quest: Both suitors are tasked with calming a relentless snowstorm, representing a journey undertaken to achieve a goal—in this case, winning the daughter’s hand in marriage.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Koryak people

Collected in the village of Kamenskoye, on Penshina Bay, with the help of Nicholas Vilkhin, a half-Russianized Koryak, Decmber 1900 – April, 1901.

Raven-Man and Little-Bird-Man wooed (the daughter) of Big-Raven. Big-Raven preferred Little-Bird-Man. He said, “I will give my daughter to Little-Bird-Man.” Miti’ said, “I will give my daughter to Raven-Man.” After that Raven-Man would go out secretly. He would eat excrement and dog-carrion. (In the morning) they would wake up, and several wolverene-skins and wolf-skins would be there. They would ask both of the suitors, “Who killed those?” and Raven-Man would answer, “I killed them.”

Then a snow-storm broke out, and continued for a long time with unabated violence. Big-Raven said to the suitors, “Go and try to calm this storm! To the one who calms it, to that one will I give my daughter to wife.” Raven-Man said, “I will calm the storm.” He said, “Prepare some provisions for me.”

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They prepared several pairs of boots. He went out, and staid near by under a cliff, eating. Little-Bird-Man went out, and there he stood eating of the provisions. Raven-Man gave to Little-Bird-Man a wicked look. Little-Bird-Man entered again, and did not say anything.

Raven-Man staid at the same place. The snow-storm continued with the same vigor, without abating. Oh, at last Raven-Man entered. His boots were all covered with ice, for he would make water in his boots. That is the reason why the boots had ice. He said, “It is impossible! there is a crack in the heavens.” After a while they said to Little-Bird-Man, “Now, then, calm this storm!” He said, “It is impossible. Shall I also go out and make water in my boots, like Raven-Man?” Then Big-Raven said to both suitors, “Go away! None of you shall marry here.” Then Little-Bird-Man said, “All right! I will try.” He took a round stopper, a shovel, and some fat, and went up to heaven. He flew up, and came to the crack in the heavens. He stopped it with a stopper, and threw the fat on the heavens all around it. For a while it grew calmer.

He came home, and the snow-storm broke out again. Even the stopper was thrust back into the house. It was too small. He said, “It is impossible. The heavens have a crack.” Big-Raven made another stopper, a larger one, and gave it to Little-Bird-Man. He also gave him a larger piece of fat. Little-Bird-Man flew up to the same place and put this stopper into the crack. It fitted well. He drove it in with a mallet. He spread the fat around over the heavens, shovelled the snow around the hole, and covered it. Then it grew quite calm.

He came back, and then Raven-Man grew hateful to all of them. He took a place close to Miti’; and she said to him, “How is it that you smell of excrement?” – “Why! it is because I have had no bread for a long time. [This is meant sarcastically. Bread is considered a delicacy among the Koryak. The Raven, who eats excrement, pretends to feed on bread.] She said to him, “Enough, go away! You have done nothing to quiet this storm.” He went away. Little-Bird-Man married Yini’a-nawgut.

Summer came. It was raining hard. Then Raven-Man put the sun into his mouth; so it grew quite dark. After that they said to Chan-ai’, „Chan-ai’, go and fetch water!” – „How shall I fetch water? (It is too dark).” After a while they said to her, „Why, we are quite thirsty, We are going to die.” She went groping in the dark, then she stopped and began to sing. She sang, „Both small rivers are stingy (with their water).” Then a small river came to that place, bubbling. She filled her pail bought from the Russians (i.e., an iron pail), and carried it on her back. (Suddenly) a man came to her. She could not carry the pail. He said, “I will carry the pail (for you).” She came home in the dark. The man followed. It was River-Man. They said to her, “Who is this man?” He said, “I am River-Man. I took pity on that singer.” They scolded their daughter. Nevertheless River-Man married her.

After that they remained still in complete darkness. They said to River-Man, “Why are we living in darkness?” He said, “Why, indeed?” He put on a headband of ringed-seal thong. He went out (and practised magic). Then at least a little light appeared. The day dawned. They spoke among themselves, “How shall we do it?” Then Yini’a-nawgut prepared for a journey. She went to Raven-Man and asked, “Halloo! Is Raven-Man at home?” Raven-Woman said, “He is.” She said to Raven-Man, “Since you went away, I have been feeling dull all the time.” She found Raven-Man, and said to him, “Did not you feel dull (since that time)? Will you stay so?” He turned his back to her, but she wanted to turn him (so that he should look with) his face to her. But he turned his back to her. Then she tickled him under the arms. She put her hands under his armpits. His sister said to him, “What is the matter with you? Stop it! This is good girl.” After that he began to a make sounds in her direction, “Gm, gm, gm!” She turned him around, and at last he laughed out, “Ha, ha, ha!” The sun jumped out and fastened itself to the sky. It grew daylight.

After that they slept together. She said to him, “Have you a tent?” – “No!” – “Have you a fork?” – “No!” – “Have you a plate?” – “No!” She said, “Then let us go home! I have all those things at home.” They moved on to Big-Raven’s house. She said to Raven-Man, “Oh, you are a good man!” and he felt flattered. Afterwards she killed him.

Yini’a-nawgut put Raven-Man’s (head) on above. She said, “That spotted palate of yours, let it grow to be a fine cloudless sky!”

She came home. And they said to her, “What have you been doing?” She said, “I killed Raven-Man. He had the sun in his mouth.” From that time on it was quite calm. Raven-Woman said, “Well, now, does my brother remember me? (Probably) he has plenty to eat.” She said, “Let me visit him.” She visited him, and he was dead. Then she cried (and said), “He caused annoyance to the other people. (Therefore he is dead.)” She left him there. There was nothing else to do.

Then those people said to Little-Bird-Man, “Go home, both of you!” They said to them, “Go away with a caravan of pack-sledges!” He replied, “We will go on foot.” They went away on foot, and came to a river. Little-Bird-Man said to the woman, “Let me carry you (across)!” The woman said to him, “Do not do it!” He said, “It is all right.” He carried her, and in doing so he died. Yini’a-nawgut slept a night among stone-pines and was almost frozen to death. On the following morning it dawned, and close to that place a reindeer-herd was walking. All the reindeer had iron antlers. A man was walking there too. He said, “Oh, come here!” She said, “I will not come. My husband has died.” He said to her, “I am he, I am your husband.” He took out his gloves. “These you made for me. I am your husband. I am Little-Bird-Man.”

A house was there, also reindeer (for driving). He said to her, “Let us go to Big-Raven! Now let them say again that you have a bad husband!” They went with a caravan of pack-sledges, and they arrived. The people said to Big-Raven, “Oh, your daughter has come with a caravan.” Big-Raven said, “Our daughter went away on foot.” She said, “Here I am, I have been brought home by Little-Bird-Man.” Little-Bird-Man made numerous driving-sledges, all of silver. They lived there all together, and travelled about in all directions with a caravan of pack-sledges. They lived in joy. They stayed there.

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Tale about Qolento’

A sickly orphan boy, guided by a ke’le spirit, transforms and embarks on a quest to capture a murderous ke’le’s wife. With magical provisions and his eight uncles, he sails across the sea, defeats the ke’le, claims his wife, and receives substantial rewards, ultimately becoming a prosperous reindeer breeder.

Source
The Jessup North Pacific Expedition
edited by Franz Boas
Memoir of the American Museum
of Natural History – New York
Volume VIII
1. Chukchee Mythology
by Waldemar Bogoras
Leiden & New York, 1910

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The protagonist undergoes a significant change from a weak, sickly boy to a prosperous individual, highlighting themes of personal growth and metamorphosis.

Divine Intervention: The ke’le spirit’s guidance plays a crucial role in the boy’s journey, representing the influence of supernatural forces in human affairs.

Quest: The boy’s journey across the sea to capture the ke’le’s wife exemplifies a classic quest narrative, involving a challenging journey undertaken to achieve a specific goal.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Told by Nuten-qeu’, a Maritime Chukchee man from the village of Nunae’mun, in the village of Uni’sak at Indian Point, May, 1900

Near the village Nuna e’mun in a place called Ci’ni, an orphan boy lived with his aged grandmother. The boy was all covered with scabs, and so weak was he that he could hardly move about. The grandmother was unable to get much food. So they suffered great hunger. One time the boy was sitting alone in the sleeping-room in utter darkness. Then he heard a voice, “Egegegegei’.” A ke’le came to him in the darkness. “Oh, I have come! “Egegegegei’!” and still louder, “Egegegegei’.” — “Ah, ah! What is coming there? Is the (Spirit of) Epilepsy coming?” — “No, I am not coming to strike you down with epilepsy. I come through compassion for you. Why are you lying thus?” — “I am unwell.” — “Oh, indeed! Have you eaten anything today?” — “Nothing at all.” — “There, eat that!” The boy stretched out his hand in the darkness, and there was in it a little piece of dried meat. He put it into his mouth and began to chew. The meat in his mouth gradually grew larger. He swallowed, but still his mouth was full. He ate and ate, and his belly became full. When he wanted no more, the food vanished.

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“Well, then, go across the sea and take the pretty young wife from the bad murderous ke’le who is living there. Take your eight uncles as paddlers in the boat.” Indeed, the grandmother had a younger brother, who lived in Nunae’mun, and who had eight sons. “But they will not go.” — “Send your grandmother to Nunae’mun: they will obey. Now I am going. Brrr!” [The so-called moomga’tirgin (“gibbering”), a characteristic sound somewhat similar to the buzzing of a fly. It is supposed to be the voice of the ke’le.] The ke’le went out. He was still lying in the darkness. The old grandmother came home. “Oh, oh, I am so tired! I am hardly able to procure food at my age. Well, I have brought some few scraps. Here, eat!” — “No.” — “What is the matter with you? Are you dying?” — “No.” — “Then what is the matter?” — “I have had enough.” — “What have you had?” — “Oh, cease! I want to send you to Nunae’mun, that you may call my eight uncles as boat-paddlers on a journey of mine.” — “Where are you going?” — “I am going to get the pretty young wife of the old ke’le, who lives across the sea.” — “Oh, you shall not!” — “Now, then, I shall kill you!” The grandmother went out of the house, sat close by, and wept bitterly. She covered her face with her palms. “How can I get to Nunae’mun? It is too far for me.” While she was weeping, she was carried to Nunae’mun quite unawares. She looked up and said, “Is not this a boat-support of my father, made of whale-ribs!” Then she saw her younger brother, who was working on something near his house. He gave her a cordial welcome. “Oh, indeed! have you come?” — “Yes.” — “What is the matter with you? Are you suffering from hunger!” — “No, but my little grandson has ordered me to take your sons as boat-paddlers. He is going to bring here the young wife of a ke’le from across the sea.” He did not say a word against this order. “Oh, hurry up! Go down to the water, get the skin boat ready; cause no delay!” They began to cover the frame of the boat with a skin covering. “Oh, how strange you are! Why are you taking old skins? You are from a family so strong in numbers. The people will point at you. You will be put to shame. The people will say, ‘This numerous family are but bad hunters, since there are no new skins on their boat.’” They listened to his words, and took the hides of walrus newly killed. When everything was ready, they paddled toward the boy’s place.

The boy was lying in the inner room in utter darkness, as before. He was very weak, and covered all over with scabs. “Egegegegei’!” and again, still louder, “Egegegegei’! I have come again!” It was the ke’le. “What are you doing?” — “I am lying down.” — “What for?” — “Because I am very lame.” Then he hears in the darkness, “Toq, toq, toq.” The ke’le passed water in a chamber-vessel. “There, take that, and wash yourself with it all over your body!” He took off his clothes and washed his face and his whole body with this urine. Then he felt of his body with his hands. Oh, it was sleek all over, and his hand just slid along over his skin. “There, put those on!” He took breeches, outer and inner ones, and put them on. “There, also this!” It was a double fur shirt. He felt of it with his hands in the dark. It was covered all over with tassels. The ke’le gave him also a cap, boots, and a scarf. All these he put on. He gave him a small piece of dried meat. “Now, that is your provision for the journey. This will suffice for the whole crew. And here is fresh water and a strike-a-light. Take this small parcel. When you want to rest yourself, unfold it, and then you will see. And this is a paddle, — the arm of a still-born infant, along with the shoulder-blade. The arm is the shaft, and the shoulder-bone the blade. Now I am going. Brrr!” The ke’le vanished. The uncles were coming. “Who is that standing there on the shore?” — “It is your nephew,” says the old woman. “But they say that he is quite lame.” — “It seems that he is well now.” As soon as they landed, he came to meet them. “Let us push off!” — “But we have no provisions, nor fresh water.” — “I have.” They pushed off. While paddling, they asked one another, “But where are his provisions?” Still they have not the heart to ask him. They paddled for a long time, and now were quite far from the shore. Evening came. He asked, “Are you hungry?” — “Yes!” He took his small piece of dried meat and detached for each one a tiny shred no larger than half of a human nail. They looked at it and thought, “Now we are starving to death. Our life is finished.” They began to chew. The meat grew within the mouth. They swallowed, but it was still there. Their bellies were quite full. At last they wanted no more. Then the food vanished. “Do you want a drink?” — “Yes!” He unfolded the parcel and threw it upon the water. It was a small skin rug. It turned into a little island. A small lake was in the middle of this island. They landed on the island, drank from the lake, and eased themselves on the firm ground. After that they took their places in the boat. He took the skin rug by one edge and pulled it aside. Everything vanished. He rolled the parcel up and put it in its former place. The uncles paddled on. Night came. They felt quite exhausted. Then the boy said, “Now you may sleep! I will paddle myself.” He took the infant’s arm and paddled with it. The boat rushed forward more quickly than an American steamer (literally, lelue’tvet, “whisker boat”), more quickly than a flying bird. With such swiftness it moved onward the whole night. The next morning the other men awoke and took their turn in paddling; but the boat moved much more slowly, though there were eight of them.

On the third day there appeared from afar the mountain-ridge near the shore. On the shore was a settlement, — a large group of jaw-bone houses. “Who comes here?” — “Qolento’!” — “Where from?” — “From Nunae’mun.” — “What for?” — “To take the ke’le’s wife from him.” — “Oh, oh! do not speak so loud. He will hear you. How strange you are! He will hear, and then he will eat all of you. Better take wives here.” — Oh, the paddlers were frightened! “It is land. Let us land here.” — “Oh, you good-for-nothings! you are the cause of the delay. Paddle on.” The ke’le was sitting on a cliff with his wife. He had eyes of fire, and a long tongue lolling down on his breast.

“Who is coming?” — “Qolento’.” — “What for?” — “For you to eat. I have come, and have brought eight companions.” Oh, he was glad! “Whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?” — “How strange you are! They have paddled so long, they are quite exhausted. First give them food.” — “All right! Bring some whale-skin, walrus-blubber, reindeer-fat, and reindeer-tenderloin. Let them eat their fill.” They ate. Now, whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?” — “How strange you are! They have not slept. Let them rest themselves. You shall eat them tomorrow morning. They shall not go away, since I brought them for your food.” They slept. Early in the morning the ke’le called out, “Qolento’, get up! Whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?” Qolento’ had a small stone. He selected one paddler and drew a line with this stone all over his body, from the crown of his head to the tip of his toes. Then he pushed him forward. “Here, eat him!” The ke’le wanted to chew, but could not do anything. He left him, and he rose to his feet. “Oh, he is too tough! I cannot eat him. Give me some one with meat more tender!” — “Then take this one!” But this one was also as hard as stone. He could do nothing to any of the eight. “Oh, is there no one who is more tender?” — “Perhaps I am. Try me!” As soon as the ke’le wanted to catch him, he struck him with the stone upon the head and killed him. His wife was quite young, of human origin, had hardly once been slept with. Qolento’ took her for himself. She said, “But he has another wife, an old one. She is very bad. She will kill you.” — “We shall see!” — “Yes, she will, even with copulating she will kill you, with her vulva, which has strong teeth.” — “Oh, oh!” — “And also with her anus, which also has teeth.” — “Oh, oh!”

Qolento’ had a retriever [an implement for securing killed seals floating upon the water before the go down]. It had long hooks. He brought it along. A stamping of feet was heard from without, and a voice called, “Where is that Qolento’; the mischievous one? He has carried away other men’s wives. He has killed my husband. There, now! let him take me, and fare as my husband fared.” — “All right!” They entered the sleeping-room. “Copulate with me!” The woman lay down and spread her legs apart. He took his stone, still covered with her husband’s blood, and shoved it into her vulva. She caught it greedily, and all her teeth stuck in it. She turned toward him her anus. “Copulate also into the anus!” He shoved into the anus the retriever with many hooks. All the teeth of the anus stuck into the retriever. She tried to chew it, but could do nothing. So at last she choked herself to death with it and was destroyed.

He took the other woman. She was very pretty. He took also all the property. They came back to the settlement. No one came to meet them, so frightened were they. Then Qolento’ called out, “Come out! I have killed him.” Oh, they rushed onward. They caught the best of their girls and put them into the boat for wives for the paddlers, and the girls consented with joy.

They left, and went across the sea. When they were nearing Nunae’mun, they saw upon the cliff eight large tents. Each tent had a reindeer-herd of its own, two herdsmen, and a large bag of tobacco in the outer tent. “This is your reward for the journey.” The front house had two herds, and two bags of tobacco for the master. “From now on be reindeer-breeders! So they left Nunae’mun for Chi’ni, and became reindeer-breeders. They lived there.

That is all.

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Story of Object-of-Loathing

An overworked herdsman scorned by his uncle, encounters supernatural Wolves and a Polar Bear who guide him toward a new life. After bold acts involving marriage and wealth, including outsmarting a wealthy reindeer-breeder, he gains a wife and half of the man’s herd. Establishing his own camp, he transforms from a scorned outcast to a prosperous and independent man.

Source
The Jessup North Pacific Expedition
edited by Franz Boas
Memoir of the American Museum
of Natural History – New York
Volume VIII
1. Chukchee Mythology
by Waldemar Bogoras
Leiden & New York, 1910

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The protagonist evolves from a scorned herdsman to a prosperous and independent man.

Cunning and Deception: The protagonist employs clever tactics to outsmart a wealthy reindeer-breeder, securing marriage and wealth.

Quest: His journey to seek a wife and establish his own camp signifies a personal quest for a better life.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Told by Rike’wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

Object-of-Loathing (Ekirka’irgin) lives with his uncle. He stays with the herd. All the time he is busy with the reindeer; but his uncle chides him, saying, “You good-for-nothing!” He is alone with the herd, — the only herdsman. One time, while he was with the herd, some people came, driving reindeer. They were Wolves. They said, “We want to slaughter reindeer.” — “Oh, how can I do the slaughtering? I am afraid of my uncle.” — “Why are you afraid? This is your herd. You are the sole herdsman.” — “No! I am afraid!” Notwithstanding, they slaughtered reindeer, and carried them away on their sledges.

He went home, and on the way he met a person clad in white skin. It was a Polar Bear. The Polar Bear said, “If you slaughter reindeer for strange people, then better go away and look for a wife. Over there lives a wealthy reindeer-breeder. You might try for his daughter.”

► Continue reading…

Object-of-Loathing went there. He gathered a sledgeful of fuel, — a very large sledge, so large that he was not able to haul it along. Then the Wolves came, a number of them. They said, “We will attach ourselves to the sledge, and haul it along.” So they did. “Sit down,” they said. He sat down, but they trotted on.

They came to the camp of the rich reindeer-breeder. The one clad in white skin said to him beforehand, “When they go to sleep, catch the youngest girl, that one in the corner.” They went to sleep. Then he caught the youngest girl, that one in the corner. She cried aloud, “Oh, oh! What is he doing? He caught me!” The master of the house awoke. He said, “What noise is this? You have wakened me, you scamps! This loathsome new-comer, why is he making trouble? — There, you, give me a stick!” He caught hold of the wooden handle of a scraper and rushed at those who were quarrelling; but before he had time to strike, the whole sleeping-room filled with wolves. They howled all around. All the people, in utmost fear [Em-yi’mgumga, in fear before supernatural things; for instance, before spirits, the dead, etc.; this is a special term for such kind of fear], rushed out quite naked, the house-master still with a stick in his hand. They fled to the neighboring house. Meanwhile he took the girl and carried her to his home. The next morning the father-in-law sends for Object-of-Loathing in soft and pleasing words: “Let him come and visit me!” The reindeer-herd was brought. It was a large herd. “Cut it in two!” It was cut in halves. “There, take one half!” Object-of-Loathing took the wife and the herd. He settled separately, established his own camp, and lived there.

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The man who married a sky-girl

A young son visits his deceased father’s grave and receives guidance to marry a supernatural bride. After wedding a woman from the “Upper People,” he proves his wife’s divine origins by completing increasingly challenging tasks: hunting bears and capturing a ke’le. Using his wife’s magical dogs, he ultimately defeats and destroys an entire community of supernatural beings.

Source
The Jessup North Pacific Expedition
edited by Franz Boas
Memoir of the American Museum
of Natural History – New York
Volume VIII
1. Chukchee Mythology
by Waldemar Bogoras
Leiden & New York, 1910

► Themes of the story

Quest: The protagonist undertakes a journey to the realm of the “Upper People” to find a bride, facing various challenges along the way.

Trials and Tribulations: The young man must complete increasingly difficult tasks, such as hunting bears and capturing a ke’le, to prove his worthiness.

Family Dynamics: The narrative explores the relationship between the young man and his deceased father, as well as the neglect he experiences from his older brothers.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Told by Rike’wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

Once there was a father. He had five (grown-up) sons. The sixth one was a boy, a young lad, indeed a half-grown youth. All the others were big, ever so big. Then their father grew quite old and decrepit. Oh, he felt ill, and spoke thus (to his sons): “Now I am going to die. When you (carry me to the funeral-place, and) leave me there for three nights, come to visit me after the third (night).” Indeed he died. They carried him (to the funeral-place).

Well, what of that? He remained there for the third night. The sons returned home. The third night passed. Then several nights also passed. At last the youngest brother said, “Well, now, when shall we visit our daddy?” The older ones said, “Oh, he is of no use, since he is dead. Why should we visit him?” Then (the youngest son) visited (the grave) secretly. When he came to the place, it was like a house of the dead one, but in reality it was only the funeral-circle of stones.

► Continue reading…

“Oh, you have come?” — “Yes!” — “Aha! and where are your companions? Everything is well with them?” — “Yes, everything is well with them. However, they said, ‘That one is of no use. He is dead. Why should we visit him, then?’” — “Did they (say so)? Oh, then you must go and look for a bride. Where will you live? Where will you have a household? You cannot live with me. I am of no use, either. And also with your brothers you must not stay, since your brothers are such (bad) ones.”

“All right! Still I shall not succeed.” — “Oh, you must sue for the hand of the girl of the Upper People.” He called [windward] towards the east, and, lo! iron-footed reindeer came at his call. They had iron hoofs. These (the young man) attached to his sledge and went upwards. He climbed up one quite vertical mountain; then, when halfway, his reindeer were spent, and their hoofs were quite used up.

He returned and went to his father, [and came there]. “Oh, you have come!” — “Yes!” — “What, you could not get there?” — “[Yes,] I could not.” He called again [windward] towards the east, and then came reindeer with stone hoofs, with hoofs of obsidian. Oh, well! with these he climbed to the top. There he saw a small house.

He entered the house. A girl was sleeping in an iron receptacle surrounded by a grating. She slept in a posture very convenient for copulating, without any covering, lying on her back [convenient for copulation]. The young man stripped, took off his clothes, and then he defecated between her legs, eased himself copiously under the buttocks. He was through with defecating, then he lay down.

Oh, then she awoke. Indeed, he waked her up, gave her a push. Oh, the girl began to scold: “Who was here? Who entered here?” — “Be quiet, you! Indeed, I have defecated over you. You are a funny one! Oh, my! have you not slept! You did not even heed my defecating.”

What now? He married her [there]. Quite soon she brought forth a child. It was a boy. Her father said, “Take her to your home. You have a land of your own. Why, indeed, should I keep you here? You are a stranger.” They brought home the herd. And he divided it into [two] halves, (and gave one half to the young man.)

The young man went with a train of pack-sledges. They passed near the father’s place; but there was nothing, only the funeral stone circle. He slaughtered reindeer there for his father. Then he went to his brothers.

When he arrived, the brothers spoke thus. They said, “Oh, there! if you have indeed married among real gods (literally, ‘[good] beings’), then bring a polar bear!” — “Oh, so!”

He put his head under the covering of the sledge, [“Qa’aran” is a sledge with a covering, in which brides and young mothers with nursing babies are transported], toward his wife, (and said,) “Oh, they say thus: ‘If you have indeed married among the real gods, then bring a polar bear.” — “Oh, so!” Well, just bring it. Only go away [leeward] westward. Use also this whip of mine.” — “I will.”

He went away leeward, and turned around to the rear side. Then he saw a polar bear, and simply struck it upon the head with the whip. He killed it, loaded it (upon the sledge), and carried it home. “There, there, the polar bear!” — “Oh, oh, indeed! Now, then, bring a brown bear!” — “Oh, so!”

He put his head under the covering of the sledge, and said thus [spoke] to his wife: “Oh, now, they make me go again and say, ‘Bring a brown bear.’” — “Oh, well! indeed, just bring it.”

He acted as before, struck it on the head, and killed it again. He carried it home, and when coming to the houses said thus [and spoke to them]: “There, there! the brown bear!” — “Oh, oh, indeed! This time, if you have in truth married among real gods, bring a ke’le!” — “Oh, oh!”

He put his head under the covering of the sledge, towards his wife, (and said.) “This time they say again, “Now bring a ke’le!’” — “Oh, oh! is that so? All right, just bring it. What of that?” She took her bag and rummaged (among its contents). Then she pulled out a pair of gloves. They had quite long claws on their finger-ends. [Quite long-clawed they were.] “These two dogs of mine you must take with you.”

He went away [windward] eastward. The dogs pulled the sledges. On the way one of the dogs began to speak: “Let us take the trail along that mountain-slope! A house will appear there. There we will go. They (the ke’let) are many there.”

Indeed, he saw a group of houses. The houses were full of people. They were quite numerous. They occupied themselves with tossing on a walrus-hide. They also had foot-races. As soon as they saw him, they rushed at him. “Oh, oh! a guest, a guest! Let us seize him!”

They came nearer, but the dogs sprang at them. And with their long claws they lacerated all the ke’let.

Oh, they stopped. “Ah, bring the little old woman, the one dying from old age.” Indeed, they brought out the little old woman, very decrepit. Oh, she opened her mouth. Within the mouth were visible all kinds of game. (The man and his dogs), however, nearly died from it. He took her along and carried her to his house.

And then he shouted again, “There, there! I brought the ke’le. Pay attention, all of you! Come here all at once!” The people came. The little old woman simply opened her mouth. Oh, the people were quick to die. All of them perished. And so he killed them and destroyed all.

The end.

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The Old Man of the Volcano

An Aleut man abandons his family for another woman, prompting his wife to transform into an eagle and kill him. Their son, aided by magical gifts, braves a perilous river journey and encounters supernatural foes, including a fiery volcano spirit. Through wit and resilience, he survives, ends the threats, and marries a village chief’s daughter, securing peace for his people.

Source
Eskimo and Aleut Stories from Alaska
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 22, No. 83, Jan. – Mar., 1909

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The protagonist’s mother transforms into an eagle to confront her unfaithful husband.

Quest: The son embarks on a perilous journey upriver, facing various supernatural challenges.

Supernatural Beings: Encounters with entities like the fiery volcano spirit and other mystical adversaries.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aleut people

Told as a Nushigak story by a native of Karluk

On the eastern side of a river was situated a populous village; on the western bank there was but one barabara in which lived an old couple with their son. The old people were feeble, and did not think they had long to live; they therefore asked their son to go over to the village and get married. He did as he was bidden, crossed over, married, and came back with a wife. Not long after this event the father and mother died, leaving the young couple alone. At the end of the first year of the marriage a daughter was born, who, after being bathed two or three times, began to talk. Another year passed, and a little boy came to the family. As the children grew up the father became very fond of them, particularly of the boy, who very often went down to the beach to meet him as he returned from his work.

► Continue reading…

For in order to provide for his little family, the father went out daily in his boat to hunt for sea animals and birds, and always came back well loaded.

But one day the man came home with little game and looking very sad. His wife asked the cause of his unhappiness, and he answered roughly that seals were scarce. From that day on, the poor woman could not depend with any regularity on his home-coming. Sometimes he would not put in an appearance until late in the night, and frequently he stayed away two or three days together. He brought so little game that the family had barely enough to live on. When at home, he was dejected and could hardly be made to talk. His wife’s questions were generally cut short by brutal answers.

Things kept going from bad to worse, and the climax was reached when the man disappeared altogether. Days and weeks passed without bringing any tidings of his whereabouts. In looking over a basket filled with various objects, the woman came across the head and claws of an eagle which had been given her when she was a girl. These she shook and worked on until she made a large eagle’s skin, which she put on herself and flew away to find her husband, who, she feared, was starving or lying ill somewhere. She flew a long time, and came to the outskirts of a large village, alighting near a barabara alongside of which bubbled a spring to which the women came for water. From where she was, the eagle could see a bidarka with her husband in it coming towards the shore. At the same time her attention was drawn to a young woman running to the spring to fetch some water, and, after leaving it in the hut, hurrying down to the beach to greet her faithless husband. Following her rival, the eagle swooped down on the man, and, snatching him in her claws, flew with him into the clouds, from whence she dropped him into the sea.

From this tragedy the eagle flew home to her children, whom she found safe. To the boy she gave a feather and a pebble to eat, which he did. Up to this time all those who had gone up the river failed to return, no one knowing just what had become of them. The boy, when he grew up, told his mother that he had made up his mind to go upstream. She tried in vain to dissuade him from his enterprise by pointing out the dangers and citing cases of strong and brave hunters who had lost their lives in the undertaking. Seeing that he was determined, she yielded, and gave him to take with him a needle and this advice: “If you are in trouble, think of the feather; should no help come from that, remember the pebble; and if very hard pressed, make use of the needle.” The next morning he got into his boat and paddled upstream until he came to a cave into which the tide was setting with such force that he was unable to keep out of it. In the cave he felt a current of warm air and saw a smooth beach, on which he pulled up his bidarka. Pretty soon afterwards he became aware of some one approaching, and great was the boy’s fright when he saw near him a large old man breathing fire. There was, however, no harm done him, except that the old man asked him to follow. They marched into the interior, passing through dark and hot places, gradually ascending to lighter and cooler atmosphere, until they stood on the summit of a mountain whose sides sheered straight down into the sea. “If you wish to live with me,” said the old man, “you must jump off this bluff;” and with this he gave him a push, and the boy felt himself going down, down. He thought of his mother’s advice about the feather, and by doing so became a feather and was carried by the wind back to the top of the mountain. There he resumed his human shape, and went back to his boat and proceeded in his ascent of the river, coming to a bay partly inclosed by steep black walls. In the distance, at the head of the bay, a barabara was visible, and thither the boy pulled and landed. He went in and found a very stout old woman and a young girl, who began to weep when she saw him.

“Why do you weep?” said the old woman. “Who is dead or drowning at sea?” — “I am not drowned. I died neither on land nor on sea,” answered the boy. “If you are alive, come in; but if dead, stay out.” — “I am alive,” he replied, and went in.

When a few questions had been asked and answered, the old woman proposed that the young couple should marry, which was done. The young wife did not love her husband, and begged the old woman to have him killed for fresh meat, but the latter put her off by saying that he was not fat enough. At last the old woman consented to have him killed, and for this purpose told him to go to the top of the hill, to the home of her brother, and there take a bath. He suspected treachery, and was on the lookout.

At the top of the hill a stout old man waited for him to take him to the bath-house, and urged him to hurry with his bathing, for he had a hot roasted codfish waiting for him. When the boy went in, the old man closed up all openings and poured hot oil on the heated rocks in order to smother him; but the boy changed himself into a pebble, and remained so until the door was opened and fresh air blew in. On seeing him come out unharmed, the old man exclaimed, “Ah, you are different from the others!” After having eaten his roasted fish, the old man proposed to the young one to take a run along the edge of the cliffs. This proposition was accepted on condition that the old man take the lead. They started off; and when they reached a steep and dangerous place, the boy shoved his companion off, and he disappeared out of sight. From here he returned home, where he found his wife sitting near the fire and the old woman soundly asleep. His wife he called outside and shot her with the needle his mother gave him, and then he shot the old woman with the same weapon.

Having had enough adventure, he started down the stream to where his mother was; and to her and others he related all that had happened to him. The chief of the village was so delighted that he gave him his daughter in marriage. After that time no harm came to those who went upstream; but they must not approach the cave at flood-tide, for they will be drawn in.

Each volcano has a master. He breathes fire, and he it was who met the boy in the cave. This old man of the volcano does not like rivals, and kills all who come in his way.

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Chief Agitaligak

Agitaligak, a mighty Aleutian chief, sought glory but ignited tragedy. Leading an expedition east, his people settled two villages with a strict pact. Violations sparked vengeance, leading to his son’s death. Agitaligak retaliated, annihilating relatives but plunging into grief. Abandoning his conquests, he returned home in despair, his quest for fame leaving only sorrow and the ruin of his people.

Source
The Songs and Stories of the Aleuts
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 20, No. 77, Apr. – Jun., 1907

► Themes of the story

Quest: Chief Agitaligak embarks on an expedition to foreign shores, aiming to achieve glory and expand his people’s territory.

Revenge and Justice: Following the violation of a pact and the subsequent killing of his son, Agitaligak seeks vengeance against those responsible, leading to further bloodshed.

Tragic Flaw: Agitaligak’s ambition and desire for glory result in decisions that ultimately bring about personal and communal tragedy.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aleut people

One of the mightiest and best known of the Aleutian ancestors by the name of Agitaligak, chief in the village Adus, situated on Unmak Island, tired of the ordinary affairs in his life, which he could carry on near his place and among his people, decided to crown himself and his people with glory by doing some memorable and glorious deed on foreign shores.

Having before him this high aim, he did not disclose his plans until winter, when he asked his hunters to join in the enterprise; and, as he was famous and mighty, a great number of warriors gathered about him.

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At a favorable time, taking their wives and children, they started on their journey towards the east in bidarras (large skin boats). While passing by Unalaska Island, a number of others joined in with them, also far-off relatives of the leader. Towards the end, Chief Agitaligak had the pleasure of seeing himself the leader and head of a large army of warriors and a great fleet, with which he proceeded from Unalaska, keeping along the eastern coast of the Alaskan Peninsula.

Before reaching the island of Kadiak, Agitaligak discovered two large bays, called in his language Kigagik Madgik, and Tugin […], which bays the chief thought favorably situated for villages, and therefore decided to remain there permanently; and, dividing his army in two parts, he designated a bay for each. The newcomers started to built two large villages (the westerly one being the home of Agitaligak) and, finding sufficient means for their maintenance, lived in peace and began to increase. Their occupation consisted mainly in hunting sea and land animals. The two villages had a compact between themselves, the violation of which was punishable by death, that, under no circumstances, except as guests, should the people of one village go to the other. Three years they lived in this manner, never going very far from their homes, and never being attacked nor meeting any unpleasantness from outsiders.

After three years, it happened that the settlers of the eastern village sent two bidarras, with the full number of paddlers, to gather wood within the boundary of the western village (wood could have been got elsewhere), which was the special property of their chief, where he had gathered much wood. These, by coming here, broke the compact and oath with their neighbors (which forbade going on each other’s side), but not only that, they even took the ready-cut wood and cut it to fit their boats; and only because darkness was approaching they decided to remain all night. Not expecting an attack from strangers, nor from their neighbors, who were their relatives, they took no precaution for the night.

Agitaligak, somehow finding out that strangers were in his possessions, sent messengers to learn what they were doing; they came back and reported that the wood, which, according to his orders, had been gathered and prepared, was all cut up and ready to be carried away in strange bidarras. He sent immediately a part of his warriors and ordered them to punish with death the breakers of the oath and thieves. They obeyed his orders, and left not a single man alive.

Chief Agitaligak had a son, Taiyaguch Kayulinach, who was already married, and (according to a primitive Aleutian custom) to a girl from the neighboring village; and as the girl had to stay until a certain time after marriage at the home of her father, and the time to move over to her husband’s home had not yet arrived, Kayulinach could, and when he felt like it did, visit his young wife, and often spent several days with her.

Soon after the above-mentioned happening in the woods, Kayulinach asked his father for permission to go, as formerly, and visit his wife, who was about to make him a father (this event would strengthen the marriage bond and give him the right to take her home). His father, knowing that his action towards his neighbors could not remain unrevenged, would not consent for a long time to his going, fearing that their revenge would be spent on him, his only heir. Finally, unable to withstand the pleadings of his beloved son, Agitaligak let him go, but on the condition that he should return, without fail, within ten days. Should he not return to him within that time, Agitaligak would consider him as dead, killed to avenge his deed.

Kayulinach alone departed immediately. On coming to the village where his wife lived he was met, not as before by all or at least a great part of the village, but by his wife’s three brothers, who informed him that his father’s doings were well known to the people, who were already planning how and by what means to repay him; and they advised him that, if cither to-day or to-morrow he should be called to a public meeting, he should refuse to go; otherwise he could not avoid being killed. Kayulinach did not altogether appreciate their words of warning and advice ; his mind was elsewhere, with his beloved wife who had just given birth to a son (his heir), to whom he hurried. She also told him of the present state of feeling in the village, and begged him not to go; he, however, neglected her advice, thinking that no one would dare to harm him, the son of the mightiest and most renowned chief; and also because he was related to nearly every one in the village through his mother and his wife; but it all ended differently from what he had expected.

The day after Kayulinach came to the village he was invited, as anticipated, to the council, which was held in the open air outside of the village. He, receiving such an invitation, dressed himself without delay in his best parka and hat, etc., and, turning aside from the tearful pleadings of his wife, went where he was called. Coming out of the house into the open air, he stopped, and, turning his eyes in all directions, said: “This world will never darken, and it will never end; this wind will never altogether cease blowing and affect fiercely man and beast: (then looking on the hills and mountains) and also the high beautiful earth will never change; but to all people and all other living creatures will come an end, and all will die; and I too will some day die, and why should I now fear a glorious death!”

Saying this, he went directly to the meeting place, and on reaching there walked right into the midst of them, and sat down in the centre. He was silent for a while, and seeing that no attempt was being made to question him, nor to greet him, he said to them: “Here, I have come to you; why did you call me?”

“We knew,” they said, “that on account of your wife you would come to us; we expected and invited you here for no other purpose than to find out from you about the two bidarras which went from here to your side; have you not heard concerning them? did not one of your people happen to see where they went? If they are yet alive, they should have returned long ago; they had no danger to expect from any one on that side; for it is peopled by you, our relatives. Therefore, tell us the truth, everything that you know concerning them.”

“Yes,” he replied, “I saw your bidarras with the men, and I know what became of them; but you will be dishonored if you revenge so many warriors on me, a poor boy.”

“We neither intend to revenge them on you, nor to harm you; tell us right out whether you saw them killed; tell us the truth.”

He answered them as before. Then all present became angry and ferocious; and one of them, who was formerly a slave of Kayulinach’s father, said: “What is the use of talking with him. and sparing him in your sorrow ? See, he is only making fun of us; we ought to do some thing to him.”

When the slave had spoken, one of Kayulinach’s uncles said to the council, “Do with him what you like.” They all agreed then that he ought to be killed. Every one of the warriors wished for the privilege of executing the sentence, singly and without aid; because Kayulinach (as his name signifies) was a very powerful man, and to kill such a hero was a glorious deed. But they who desired that privilege paid dearly for it. The first rash man did not even come near Kayulinach; for he seized him, lifted him up in the air, twisted his head off, and cast him away. Seven others of his enemies and opponents, each stronger than the former one, shared the same fate. The Aleuts, seeing that if they permitted him to meet them singly he would twist off the head of every one of them, attacked him in a body with their spears; and the slave who first suggested that Kayulinach be killed was the first to thrust a spear through his heart, killing him.

Then the nearest relatives of the dead, i. e. his uncles and cousins, with weeping, took his corpse, and making a rich cradle (a skin-covered frame on which the dead were suspended), trimmed it with various trimmings, put him into it, and hung it under a bidarra. Kayulinach’s wife wept inconsolably for him.

When the ten days within which Kayulinach had promised to return had passed, and he did not appear, his father immediately went in search of him to the village where he had gone. He arrived there in the night, and went to the house of his daughter-in-law, who in the darkness of the night sat and wept bitterly. Chief Agitaligak knew then that the weeping woman was his son’s wife, and, going up to her, began in a low voice to question her: “Is your husband, Taiyaguch Kayulinach, dead?”

She, hearing such a question, and from a stranger, replied: “Did you come to laugh at me, and to add grief to my affliction; did you not see what happened to my husband to-day; were you not then with them?”

“Be quiet, speak low; I am the father of your husband; I came to inquire whether he is yet alive; come show me where the body of my son is.”

The woman led him there where the body of her husband hung; and they both cried there a long time. Finally Agitaligak said to her: “Tell no one that I have been here; I will soon come again and avenge the death of my son with the blood of my relatives.”

Saying this, he directly departed. Arriving home the following morning, he called his nephew (his sister’s son) and all his other people, and sat him (nephew) in front of himself face to face, so near, that when he (Agitaligak) began to speak his saliva flew into the other’s face; and in a very revengeful and savage voice began speaking to him: “Algichtayach! (the name of the nephew) you arc a hunter, eager for war and thirsty for human blood. I have restrained you until now the present time; but now I give you full liberty; revenge the death of your cousin. Your brother and my son was killed in the village of his relatives; prepare yourself to wage war against our own people.” When he had finished, he gave orders to arm and be ready so soon as possible to start on the expedition.

His orders were obeyed, and the frenzied father advanced with his army without delay ; and coming to the village at night, fell on his enemies and relatives, who were not expecting him, attacked them in their barrabaras, and from this large village not a soul was left alive except his daughter-in-law and grandson, whom he took away with him, also the corpse of his son, and returned home.

Arriving home, he made a memorial feast in memory of his son; i. e. he ordered to place before the people all the eatables he had, and all who lived in the village came and ate all they wanted; and the father wept for his son. This memorial feast continued three days, then the chief gave orders that the body should be hung in his house in the same cradle in which he had lain at first; and he requested all the people that from this time forth they should neither beat the drum nor rejoice, in deference of his inconsolable grief. Neither time, nor hunting, nor tears, nor any diversion could lessen or lighten his bitter sorrow. Thinking he would find solace in killing his slaves, he ordered a big fire to be made, and when it was flaming he commenced to throw them in. But this expedient brought him no relief.

At last he decided to depart from his village, and with it leave his cherished aims and plans, i. e. to gain glory on foreign shores, and return to his native land; and the following summer he gathered all his surviving relatives, who were under him, and went back over the same course and to the same place from whence he started on his famous expedition, leaving behind all his valuables, houses, etc.

When he came home, he wept and grieved even more than before, both on account of his affliction and failure.

So, then, instead of achieving a memorable and famous deed and glorifying himself and his people, he only weakened himself, nearly all of his people being dead; and in place of honor and joy, he brought shame, sadness, grief, and tears, which did not leave him until his very end.

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The Sad Fate of Uchatngiak

The tale of Uchatngiak intertwines themes of curiosity, love, and transformation. Born into seclusion, Uchatngiak defies restrictions, experiencing life, love with a mystical goose-woman, and fatherhood. Betrayed by societal prejudice, his wife leaves, prompting Uchatngiak’s relentless quest for reunion. His journey unveils magical encounters and the enigmatic “Bird Heaven.” In a tragic twist, he transforms into a white whale, blending mythology with profound allegorical depth.

Source
Tales from Kodiak Island
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 16, No. 61, Apr. – Jun., 1903

► Themes of the story

Transformation: Uchatngiak undergoes a significant metamorphosis, ultimately becoming a white whale.

Quest: Uchatngiak embarks on a relentless journey to reunite with his wife and son, encountering various challenges along the way.

Tragic Flaw: Uchatngiak’s insatiable curiosity and defiance of restrictions set the stage for his eventual downfall.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aleut people

These tales were obtained by the author at Unga Island, Alaska, during a three years’ residence. They were told in the Russian language by Mrs. Reed, Nicoli Medvednikoff, Corneil Panamaroff, all natives of the island of Kodiak where they had heard them, and translated some literally, others more freely. The natives of Kodiak speak Russian almost as freely as they do their mother tongue. They call themselves “Aleuts,” and wherever that word is used, it refers to them, and not to the real Aleuts to the west. The author has but lately returned from Alaska.

It was a very large settlement, and over it presided only one chief. This chief had a son whom, from babyhood, he kept secluded in a barrabara. Two men watched continuously over him, giving him no opportunity either to go or look out. The boy, Uchatngiak, as he grew up and heard the shouts of the men who were shooting ducks in the bay with their bows and arrows, the laughter of others, playing “nabada” (a stick is set up and stones thrown at it), the cheering of still others, testing their skill of marksmanship on a piece of kelp, tried in vain to guess the reason of his seclusion. One day in early spring, being very restless and hearing more noise than usual, he decided to see what was going on outside. While one man was after fresh water, he sent the other one to fetch him some roots, and in the mean time pulled out the seal-intestine window, and looked out. A rapturous sight greeted him: the green grass, the flowers just beginning to bloom, the clear sky overhead, the young men happy and sportive, hunting and playing games; he gazed till blinded by tears, then fell on his bed, and wept.

The guards on their return, finding him in this condition, were frightened, thinking he was ill, or what was worse, perhaps he had looked out; in that case they would be severely punished.

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He would not answer their many questions at first; but when he became composed, told them everything, and ordered them to go to his father, and say to him that he desired to go and stay outside. One of the men went to the chief, and reported to him what happened and how it happened, and delivered the son’s message. The chief thought a while, and then said: “My son is now grown up, he may come and live outside.”

The chief ordered some of his servants to dress his son in a sea-otter parka and torbarsars, to spread skins on the ground for him to walk on, to place a bearskin on the roof of the barrabara for him to sit on; others of his servants he sent through the village, inviting the people to come and see his son, concerning whom they knew nothing. Uchatngiak, seated on the barrabara, gazed with astonishment on all the people and wonders about him. Five white geese, who happened to fly by just then, had a special fascination for him, and he eyed them till they settled down some distance off. “People hunt them. I too will go and hunt them,” thought he. Sending his guards away on different errands, he snatched a bow and arrow, and started after the geese.

When he came to the place where the geese seemed to alight, he saw a lake and in it five beautiful girls bathing and enjoying themselves. In order to get a better look at them, he began sneaking around the lake, and, while doing so, came across five white geese skins. Taking one, the smallest, he sat down at a distance to see what would happen. Pretty soon the girls, who were sisters, came out of the water, and walked to the place where they left their skins. The four older sisters were soon ready to fly, but waited impatiently for the youngest sister. “Do hurry, we must be going,” they called.

“I have looked all around here for my skin, but I cannot find it,” she weepingly said. The others joined with her in the fruitless search, until Uchatngiak was espied, when the four geese flew up and away, and the girl ran to him, and begged: “O give me back my skin.” Looking at her beautiful form, he said : “No, I will not give it back to you.” He dressed her in his parka and torbarsars, and asked her to come home with him. For ten days she lived with him in his barrabara before his mother learned the fact, but she said nothing. During the day Uchatngiak hunted, and his wife went to the lake to feed on the delicate grasses that geese like so well. In this manner the young couple lived happily together until the following spring. A son was born to them in the mean while.

Uchatngiak had a very meddlesome sister, who disliked her strange sister-in-law, and often, in speaking with other women, would remark that her sister-in-law had a peculiar mouth, resembling that of a goose, and that, whenever she laughed, she covered her mouth, so that no one could see her teeth. One day, while Uchatngiak was away from home, his sister called and shamefully abused his wife, and called her a goose. The wife endured the abuse a long time, and then, putting on her goose skin, flew out through the hole in the roof and away. An alarm was given, that a goose flew out of the chief’s son’s house; and some chased after her, but in vain. Uchatngiak, when he returned and found his wife gone, grieved for her, and complained bitterly.

Several years passed. The boy, who was now five years old, was in the habit of going everywhere with his father. One day they were on the beach, Uchatngiak was fixing his bidarka, and the boy was amusing himself with a bow and arrow; while there, five geese flew right over their heads, and lighted on the rocks near the point. The boy noticed them, and said: “Father, I will go and shoot them.” Not returning soon, the father went to look for him, and could not find him, but in the distance saw the five white geese flying. “His mother joined her sisters, and they came and took my son from me !” he cried out, and felt very miserable and lonely.

This happened in the fall; and he decided to go immediately in search of his wife and son. He took with him a stone hatchet, five dried salmon, and one sour salmon. (Formerly, the Aleuts buried the salmon for the winter, and when they took them out, the salmon were “sour.”) Eastward he went a half of the winter before anything unusual broke into the monotony of his journey. One day, while following a very narrow path, he came upon two fierce foxes fighting in the path. He asked them several times to let him pass, but they heeded him not; finally, one of the foxes said to him: “Give us your sour salmon, and we will let you pass.” Dividing the salmon in two parts, he threw one part to one side and the other to the other side of the path; and while the foxes rushed for the fish, he passed on. From the top of the mountain which he ascended, he saw in the valley below smoke coming out of a small barrabara, and a path leading down to it. The path led him to the door of the barrabara, and when he pushed it in, he saw a very stout woman seated on the floor, making fine sinew threads. “May I come in ?” he asked. Without raising her head, she replied: “If you are alive, you may, if a ghost, do not.”

“I am alive,” and walked in.

“What do you want?” she asked, still without raising her head.

“I wish to know where my wife and son are?”

“I will not tell you, but if you give me half of a dried salmon, I will tell you how you may find out.”

He gave her what she asked, and when she had eaten it, she said: “Go to the top of yonder hill, there you will see two paths, one leading to the right and the other to the left. Follow the one to the right until you come to my brother who will tell you where they are.” Giving her the other half of the salmon also, he walked up the hill, took the path to the right, and followed it many days without seeing a sign of habitation. At last, one evening, while in a very narrow path, he heard a noise and then some one singing very softly. The music led him to the beach where an old man sat, singing and chopping off chips from a large stick. On closer observation, he noted that the smallest chips on falling into the water turned to trout, the larger chips became humpback salmon, the still larger ones changed to dog-salmon, those next to the largest were transformed to king-salmon, and the largest chips swam away silver-salmon. He crept closely behind the old man, watched him, and thought: “If I could get the stone hatchet, he would be obliged to tell me where they are.” The old man continued singing and chopping, and, once, as he raised up the hatchet to cut off a king-salmon, it slipped from his hand, falling at the feet of Uchatngiak. When the old man turned around, and saw the stranger, he said:

“You have my hatchet.”

“No, I have it not; but if you will tell me where my wife and son are, I will give you your old hatchet and a new one besides.”

“Give them to me;” and when he had them, he said, “I am about to cut off a king-salmon. Just as soon as he appears in the water, clutch him and hold fast to him; he will take you to your wife and son.”

He grabbed the salmon, the salmon seized his clothes, and away they went through weeds and kelp, current and stream, along the bottom of the sea, then gradually in shallow and shallower water and sandy bottom. Close to the shore he looked up and saw his son, with a bow and arrow in his hand, eying the salmon. With his feet he steered the salmon close to the boy who shot and killed the salmon, and, on pulling him out, was greatly surprised to see his father sticking on.

“Where is your mother?”

“In the barrabara,” the boy replied.

“Go and tell her that I wish to see her.”

“You had better wait outside until I go and see about it.”

The boy started off, and, when he came near the barrabara, commenced to cry. Going to his aunt Akcheten, he said : “Uchatngiak fell down; go and bring him in.” She pushed him aside, saying: “We left him afar off; and we cannot go now in winter and bring him in.” From her he went to aunt Chavillo, Qulo, and Podonigyuk, who put him off in the same manner as aunt Akcheten. Leaving them, he approached his mother, saying, “Uchatngiak fell down; go and bring him in.”

“Where is he?”

“Outside the barrabara.”

She looked, and there, as the boy said, sat Uchatngiak. She seemed glad to see him, and began questioning him : “Why and how did you come here ? You cannot live with us. This is “Bird Heaven.” (The Aleuts believed that the birds, on leaving Alaska in the fall, went to a place somewhere above the earth, known as Bird Heaven or Bird Home.)

“I came to see my wife and son. Can you not manage to keep me with you a short time?” he pleaded.

They promised to keep him, if he would promise not to go out of the barrabara. The village in which he now found himself was very large, containing many inhabitants of various colors: some red, others black, still others a mixture of colors; in fact, people of all colors and shades conceivable. In the early spring evenings his wife, her sisters, and the boy, putting on their goose skins, would fly away and not return until dawn. Before going, they made him pledge not to leave the barrabara; but during the night, as he heard many people talking, and strange and mysterious noises outside, he wished that he could go out and solve the mystery. Later in the spring, instead of going in the evenings and returning in the mornings, his folks flew away in the morning, and remained away all day. He begged to be taken along, but they paid no attention to the request.

In one end of the village was an extraordinarily large barrabara, and thither, he noticed, the different people, his own among them, gathered and remained the whole day. Two days he observed them assemble without learning their doings; on the third day his curiosity overcame him. Sneaking out of the house, he crawled to the barrabara, and, pushing aside the grass and sticks, peeped in. The interior was filled with birds, dressing and painting themselves with the variously colored rocks lying about. Everybody was already dressed or dressing, except two who were still naked. Akcheten and Chavillo spied him, and, turning to Agoiyuan (his wife), said, “Uchatngiak is peeping.” The alarm was given instantly, and the birds hurried to dress the two naked ones, sea-gull and raven. In the excitement the raven was painted black all over and the sea-gull all white, which colors they have retained to this day. Uchatngiak had seen enough, and hastened home; and when the family returned he was scolded severely, and told that the following day the whole village would depart. He pleaded not to be left behind until they finally consented to take him with them. The eagle was asked to take him on his back and carry him across safely; but when the raven heard of this arrangement, she came coaxing and begging to be allowed to carry him.

“You will soon tire, and you might hurt him,” the sisters, refusing her, said.

“If I tire, and I will not, I will turn over, and you can all see.”

She coaxed so long that they promised to let her try. The next day all the birds left Bird Heaven earthward. Uchatngiak was perched on the raven’s back, with the other birds around them to render assistance should it be needed. When about half way across, the raven began to turn over, but soon steadied herself.

“Let the eagle carry him, let the eagle carry him; you are tired, you will drop him,” they all began to clamor.

“I am not tired, and I can carry him myself,” she haughtily replied.

They had gone only a little farther when, without warning, the raven went down with her burden into the deep sea. All the other birds hovered about the spot of the accident, ready to do what they could. The eagle had his claws in position to snatch Uchatngiak when he should come to the surface. But the same Uchatngiak never appeared; for he was changed to a white whale. The raven became a drifting, large-rooted tree-trunk. Seeing the sad ending, the geese left the mournful spot, and in time came to the earth where they laid eggs, and hatched them, and have continued doing so ever since.

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

The Two Inquisitive Men

Achayongch and Achgoyan, two aloof yet inquisitive men, embark on perilous journeys to investigate mysterious figures. Laden with peculiar belongings, they confront hostile adversaries and endure surreal challenges. On their final venture, tricked by an old man on an island, they are capsized, transforming into two capes. Their restless spirits symbolize the turbulence that now defines those coastal regions.

Source
Tales from Kodiak Island
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 16, No. 60, Jan. – Mar., 1903

► Themes of the story

Quest: The protagonists embark on journeys to investigate mysterious figures, driven by their inquisitiveness.

Transformation: Their final journey results in their transformation into two capes, altering their existence.

Cunning and Deception: They are deceived by an old man on an island, leading to their downfall.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aleut people

These tales were obtained by the author at Unga Island, Alaska, during a three years’ residence. They were told in the Russian language by Mrs. Reed, Nicoli Medvednikoff, Corneil Panamaroff, all natives of the island of Kodiak where they had heard them, and translated some literally, others more freely. The natives of Kodiak speak Russian almost as freely as they do their mother tongue. They call themselves “Aleuts,” and wherever that word is used, it refers to them, and not to the real Aleuts to the west. The author has but lately returned from Alaska.

There were two men; the name of one was Achayongch, the name of the other Achgoyan. They lived together, but spoke and looked at each other only when really compelled to do so. Anything happening at other places was known to them, and they generally went there to investigate. They went, looked, said not a word, did not a thing, and returned. One day, as they were sitting in their barrabara around the fire, their backs toward each other, and eating shell-fish, Achgoyan pulled out a feather from his hair, threw it from him, and said, “Achayongch, what shall we do? There is a man living over there on the other side. He hunts every day with his sling.”

Achayongch was silent for awhile, then he scratched his ear, and said, “I do not know what is the matter with me. There is much whistling in my ear.”

Silence for a long time; finally Achgoyan, pulling out another feather from his hair, and throwing it from him, said, “Achayongch, what shall we do? There is a man living over there on the other side. He hunts every day with his sling.”

After scratching his ear, Achayongch replied, “I do not know what is the matter. There is much whistling in my ear.”

► Continue reading…

A third time Achgoyan threw away a feather, saying, “There is a man living on the other side whose name is Plochgoyuli. He hunts every day with his ‘plochgo’ (sling). We will go and see.”

They set about preparing for the trip. On the canoe was piled the barrabara, the bugs and insects of the barrabara (they, being considered personal property, went with the house and person), the grave and remains of their wife. Achgoyan then thought that the canoe was sufficiently loaded; but on launching it was discovered too heavily loaded on one side; and in order to have it equally heavy on both sides, they dug up a little hillock, and put it on, and when they had filled hollow reeds with fresh water, started off.

Coming close to the other shore, they saw Plochgoyuli hunting ducks with his sling. He saw them too, knew the nature of their visit, and on that account threw rocks at them so as to destroy them. The first rock hit close to the canoe, and made Achgoyan, exclaim, “Ka! Ka! Ka! Ka! It nearly hit.” The second rock hit still closer, and he exclaimed again, “Ka! Ka! Ka! Ka!” and as the rocks continued coming, they steered their canoe around, but not before Plochgoyuli had damaged the canoe. On returning home, all the things were replaced.

A few days later they were sitting in the barrabara around the fire, their backs toward each other, eating shell-fish. Achgoyan pulled out a feather, and throwing it from him, said, “Achayongch, there is a man living on an island. He heats a bath, and catches codfish every day.”

Achayongch scratched his ear, and replied, “I do not know what is the matter; but there is much whistling in my ear today.”

A pause; then Achgoyan pulled out another feather, saying, “Achayongch, there is a man living on an island in the middle of the sea whose name is Petingyuwock. He heats a bath, and catches codfish every day.”

“I do not know what is the matter; but there is much whistling in my ear today,” answered Achayongch.

Silence for a long time; finally Achgoyan, pulling out a third feather, spoke up, “Achayongch, there is a man living on an island in the middle of the sea, whose name is Petingyuwock. He heats a bath, and catches codfish every day. Let us go and see.”

They paddled off in the canoe, loaded with barrabara, bugs, grave, and hillock. On reaching the island, they beached the canoe, and went into the barrabara. An old man who was sitting there exclaimed, “Futi ! where is the man-smell coming from?”

“We came to see because we heard that there is a man living here who heats a bath, and catches codfish every day.”

“The bath is ready,” said Petingyuwock, and Achayongch and Achgoyan went in to take a bath. While they were bathing, the old man tied together a lot of thin, dried kelp, which he had kept to make clothes, into a long rope, and fastened one end of it to the canoe. That done, he roasted a codfish and gave it to the men when they came out of the bath. “There is a strong wind blowing. You had better hasten back,” suggested the old man.

The men pushed off against a strong sea-breeze; and when quite a distance from the shore, the old man commenced pulling his end of the rope, gradually drawing them back, and when he had them close to the shore, asked them why they delayed, since the wind was freshening up every moment. A second time they started. This time they went about half way across before Petingyuwock, who was in the barrabara, began hauling in the rope until the canoe was on shore again. He then came out, and demanded to know why they did not go while there was yet time. The third time they paddled against such a strong breeze that with great difficulty headway was made at all. When half way across, the old man pulled again the rope, but the wind upset the canoe.

The grave of their wife became a porpoise. Achayongch and Achgoyan were cast on the shore, where they became two capes; and since then quiet and peace are unknown on capes; for the men were inquisitive.

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