When the midnight stars shone brightest he left the house. He gained the outermost islets at dawn of day, and when he had quite lost sight of them on his seaward way the sun rose above the horizon, and then for the first time he observed the haze hanging above the open water, which he had plainly seen from the hills the day before. Meanwhile his house-fellows were anxiously expecting him; when all of a sudden a noise was heard, and soon after he entered the house, pushing a seal on before him, and saying, “If we are in want of game, I have found a hole where plenty of seals, large as well as small, are to be had.” But at this speech his children and grandchildren only murmured and sulked a little, and then asked for a morsel of blubber. The next morning he was again off at an early hour, and did not return till late at night, when the same noise was heard; and, covered with sweat, he again entered the room with a very large seal. This day the young men had risen, and were sitting on the ledge with their boots on. The following night, when he again brought in a large seal, he found them mending their hunting tools; and on the ensuing morning some of the ablest among them at length accompanied him; but because of their slowness he ordered them not to attack the larger seals. When they had got at the aperture, Nivnitak roamed about by himself a little, and detected the marks of a sledge leading right out to sea. Having examined them closely, he returned to his younger companions, and soon lanced a couple of seals. Dragging them along by the tug-line, he now made for home; but on the way he fancied that his grandchildren, each of them having but one seal, were too slow for him, and prepared to leave them, saying, “Ye know your way, of course, and can go on by yourselves.” Upon which he proceeded on alone, and reached home much earlier than they. When they were all sitting together in the evening, he observed, “If the weather stands, it is quite a treat to go out hunting; now ye may stop at home if ye like: I will take care that we do not suffer from want of food.” On the morrow he left as usual, but in the evening they expected him back in vain. Nivnitak remembered the track of the sledge he had discovered the preceding day; and having found it, he followed it across the sea. The mountains of his own country were lost to his sight, but others appeared ahead of him, and he landed on a foreign coast at the opposite side of the ocean. Here he passed through a valley, and again beheld a sheet of frozen water; and close by he observed a little house, with some poles stuck in the ground beside it. A woman emerged from it, and perceiving a stranger approaching the house by such an unwonted road, she stood hesitating an instant, but then asked him to come inside. On entering the house he saw two young girls sitting close to the wall, and he secretly determined that they should be his future wives. He felt very hungry, and hoped that he should be offered something to eat, but in this he was disappointed. After a while one of the women left the room, but presently returned, saying, “Yonder he is coming!” on which Nivnitak looked out at the window, and saw a man running along the ice at a great rate, tugging two seals after him. Near the beach he disappeared among the loose blocks of ice scattered about there; however, he soon reappeared, bounding along towards the house; but seeing the outer garments of a stranger hung up on the poles he stopped. Nivnitak seated himself, and shortly afterwards the other man entered, seemingly pleased, and smiling at the visitor. Having relieved himself of his clothes, he took a bear-skin from beneath the ledge, and spreading it mid-way on the floor, exclaimed, “When two men meet for the first time they always try to outdo each other; let us have a try.” Nivnitak did not hesitate a moment, but having undressed himself sat down on the skin opposite to him, hooked his hand into his adversary’s arms, and pulled away with all might, and almost succeeded in mastering him. They then stopped, and the host seated himself on the main bench [ledge] and inquired if the visitor had got anything to eat. He answered “No.” “Why, then, make haste and treat him to your best;” on which the women set forth several dishes. Nivnitak now fell eagerly to, and when the host was going to begin the dish was already empty. He now looked at the two girls, who were flensing the seal down on the floor, one cleaning the entrails, and the other blowing them up. In this way they soon finished the task; and before the seal-flesh was boiled, the entrails had been dried, and the girls were busy making a jacket of them for their father. The host now got more talkative, and said, “I am in want of a companion on my hunting excursions; we have plenty of good hunting hereabout. Away on the ice is a place where the thong-seals have their breathing-holes.” When they were about to retire for the night he added, “If thou wantest a wife, thou art welcome to take one of my daughters.” And thus Nivnitak became his son-in-law. Next day the father put on the jacket of seal-entrails from yesterday’s hunt; and they wandered a great distance on the ice together till they reached the apertures made by the seals. The father-in-law then said to Nivnitak, “As thou hast not got my alacrity thou hadst better not catch more than one at a time; it is as much as I can manage to drag along two of them.” Meanwhile he soon caught a couple of them. Nivnitak thought, I should like to do the same. When he had caught the first, and the father-in-law had turned a little aside, he hastened to pull up another, and thus he had two. They now prepared to return, hauling their seals along with them, the host continually observing the sun, and guiding himself by it. After a while he said, “I suppose thou knowest thy way by this time; I think I will leave thee to follow in my wake.” When the father entered the main room he said, “We cannot expect him before late, but still ye must keep a look-out for him.” The daughters kept waiting and waiting for him, but he did not come home till late in the night. The father-in-law never spoke to him, but the daughters were delighted to see him, and at once cut up the animals; but when they were preparing to make the dress, the entrails had shrunk, and got too small; and this was the reason why the father made such haste in returning, that the entrails might not get cold on the way, lest they should shrink and be unfit for use. He was now displeased at having got a son-in-law, who was not as clever as he wished him to be. They went out together all the same next day, with a similar result, and on the way home the father again told him, that as he could not keep up with him, he would go on beforehand. This time, however, Nivnitak was saying to himself, “Today I should just like to run a race with him.” However, he soon lost sight of him, and lost his way besides; but at the same time felt that his burden was getting lighter. He continued running still faster, and turning round he saw that his two seals were swinging round in the air after him. He passed by his host in a great circuit, and was home in good time long before him. His wife instantly prepared the meal; and seeing the blown-up entrails clean and shining, Nivnitak did not doubt that they would make him a nice jacket. He let the meat be kept ready dressed for his father-in-law, and the women had the jacket finished even before his arrival. He put it on at once, and was standing outside mending his tools when the host made his appearance. At first sight he thought that some visitor had arrived during his absence, and not till he had passed the iceberg did he recognise Nivnitak; but on finding it to be him he was very well pleased, and again spoke familiarly to him, saying, “That’s right, we will always succeed in the end;” but Nivnitak did not quite understand this speech. Having seated themselves at the meal prepared, he said, “Why, it has been getting quite cold and dry;” and he did not quite like it so; nevertheless he was as gay and talkative as could be. They now went on having the same good luck, and Nivnitak totally forgot his home and his grandchildren, and would not leave his young wives. One day his father-in-law accosted him, saying, “The moon is now in the crescent, and our neighbours will be coming to pay us a visit and practice ball-playing; tomorrow I shall stay at home and make tools for the games, and we must all be smart and trim in new dresses.” Next day Nivnitak likewise stayed at home, and his father-in-law brought in six large shoulder-blades of walrus. While preparing them he said, “When the play has begun, and the ball has been thrown, we must follow its course, and always be ready to strike it; if any one throws it wrong we shan’t win; so thou must mind what thou art about. With this spoon-like instrument we hit the ball; I shall throw it to my wife, and she to her daughter, and they will send it on to thee; take care that thou dost not make any mistake, or miss catching it, lest we should be mocked and scorned.” They also remained at home the next day, and kept looking out at the windows as well as at the entrance of the house for the expected guests. At last a great many people appeared passing round the southern point, and Nivnitak along with his new relations quickly put on his new clothes and ran out to meet them on the ice, shouting to them, “Here we are with our new relative Nivnitak! Let the play begin at once!” The strangers answered with a loud yell. The ball, consisting of a large seal-skin stuffed with sand and clay, and fashioned like a real seal, was now brought out; and the master of the house determined that Nivnitak, being the most dexterous, should stand next to the adversaries. He then began the play by throwing the ball to his wife; and she running along beneath it, thrust it to her younger daughter, she in her turn to her elder sister, and she to her husband. But when Nivnitak was about to strike it, he thought to himself, “I only wish I may do well.” That instant the ball hit him with its whole force and knocked him down, so that he was unable to rise. On this the enemies shouted and yelled in great triumph, and took up the ball, carrying it towards their dwelling-place. Their opponents, however, pursued them, but without any result; and on turning round the host saw a multitude of people, and not observing Nivnitak among them, he suspected some evil. Hurrying on to his assistance he found him almost dying. Some were filling his clothes with snow, and others were actually trampling on him. He drew him from out the heap; but the enemies left him with great glee and loud halloos. Nivnitak’s clothes had been quite spoiled with the snow and the mud, and in this state they got home — the father-in-law sullen and cross. Soon afterwards he said, “It will soon be time for us to pay our neighbours a return visit; get everything ready;” and on departing, Nivnitak looked very nice in his new suit; but the father-in-law once more admonished him, saying, “We must do our utmost to vanquish them, and if thou doest wrong this time, we will have nothing more to do with thee.” Nivnitak, however, did not deign to answer him. Having approached the abode of the neighbours, a tumultuous roar was raised to welcome them, as was the custom, and the ball was soon brought down on the ice. They posted themselves in the same way as last time, and began the play according to the former rules. When it was Nivnitak’s turn to strike, he gave the ball such a blow that it turned round in the air, and then flew straight forward. It was now the father-in-law’s turn to run for it; but Nivnitak had already reached it, and hit it a second time. The adversaries now advanced to give it a stroke; Nivnitak, however, always forestalled them in getting up with it, and sending it higher and higher aloft. Nobody could cope with him, and thus he went on, pursuing the ball until he at length reached home. Their rivals had at last to give in, and retired to their house very much dejected, and Nivnitak’s host cried out to them, “Today ye lost the game, better luck next time!” On the way home he kept constantly repeating, “That’s right, we will always succeed in the end.” It was only now that Nivnitak understood what the other had meant by saying so before. Some time after, Nivnitak began to think of his old relatives whom he had left in poverty and want; and one day returning from his hunt he said to his wives, “Make me a suit of tight clothes, jacket, breeches, and boots.” They at once set to work, and when the clothes were ready he tried them on. They fitted him as if they had been glued on to his body; and where they were a little too wide he at once had them altered. He then made the suit into a bundle, and went to hide it beneath the boat; and from this time secretly planned to return to his own country. One night, when the others were sound asleep, he tried to leap down on the floor; but on touching the edge of the bench, one of his wives awoke, and he again went back, and quietly lay down beside them. For several nights afterwards he repeated his attempts, but was always obliged to turn in again.

One night he succeeded in getting down without anybody awaking. In order, however, to make quite sure that they were all fast asleep, he again stepped up on the ledge. On finding that the noise had awakened nobody, he jumped down on the floor above the entrance of the room, and gliding out noiselessly, he went and dressed himself in his tight clothes, which had been hidden beneath the boat. Having also put on his outer coat, which was hanging on the poles outside the house, he took hold of his spear, and climbed the low roof of the house, and sallied forth in the opposite direction he wanted to take, making circular tracks in the snow as he went along. After a while he jumped and crossed the little promontory, and got down on the ice, which stretched away as far as his own country. There he again made large round tracks, always leaping from one side to the other, so that his family should not be able to be guided by his footmarks. Proceeding on his way, he at length reached a coast with a steep ascent and high slope, covered with heath. Having once more formed plenty of round circles on the ice, he jumped ashore and climbed an edge of the rock, where he stuffed his outer coat well with moss, and again leaped down. On the ice he built a snow-hut, and placed the stuffed coat inside it, spear in hand, with the back turned outwards, that it might resemble a living man. After this he again went back, and climbed the steep rock, awaiting the arrival of the pursuers. At sunrise several people who had come out in search of him were to be seen on the ice, sometimes single, sometimes making joint efforts to find the track. At last, halting at the snow-house, they approached it cautiously; but no sooner had the foremost detected the figure in the doorway than he thrust his spear straight at it, and Nivnitak heard them call out, “Well, well, we ought to have kept a better watch upon him while he was with us, showing well enough that he was not a real man; but anyhow we have done with him now;” and then they returned, satisfied that they had killed him. When they had quite disappeared, Nivnitak again leapt down the rocks. The sun was then high in the heavens; but before it had quite set, he reached the shore of his own country, and found his grandchildren, who had totally given him up, prospering and doing well. In the spring-time, when the ice had vanished, he got a fancy to go and see his native place; but having arrived there, he determined to spend the rest of his days in this place, and did not travel any more. He lived to see his grandchildren’s grandchildren, but at length the flesh of his body became all shrivelled and shrunk; and finally, at a very old age, he died.

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

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

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

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