The Man and Woman Who Became Sea-Otters

A jealous husband invites his wife’s brother to a feast, secretly planning his murder. Despite knowing his intent, fear silences her. After the gruesome act, she mourns, fleeing with her brother’s head to a cliff where she transforms into a sea otter. Grieving and guilt-ridden, the husband drowns himself, ending their tragic tale of love, betrayal, and despair.

Source
Aleutian Stories
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 18, No. 70, Jul. – Sep., 1905

► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The husband’s jealousy leads to the betrayal and murder of his brother-in-law, causing profound grief for his wife.

Tragic Love: The wife’s love for her brother and the ensuing events culminate in tragedy for both her and her husband.

Family Dynamics: The complex relationships within the family, including jealousy and loyalty, drive the narrative.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

This is also an Attu story told to me by Mrs. Anderson. With some few changes it is told everywhere among the Aleuts, and runs as follows:

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a married couple; and one day the husband told the wife, “We are going to make a feast, and we are going to invite your brother-in-law. Go and gather some herbs and roots, and then go to the beach and bring some moss from the rocks.” He himself went to get some seals or ducks. On his return he busied himself preparing the dishes.

This done, he sharpened his knives, and commanded his wife to call the expected guest. She knew that her husband was jealous of her brother-in-law and planned to kill him, but was forbidden by her husband to say anything to him about it. She went and called him; and as they were coming toward the house she, walking behind, thought continually of the fate that was awaiting him, yet fear of her husband prevented her from saying anything.

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When they came into the house she looked at the two men and saw how much the handsomer of the two the brother-in-law was. The husband turned to the invited guest, and said: “I prepared a feast for you; I have planned it for many years. Come and eat with me.”

They sat down on the floor, having the food before them in a hollowed rock. In the mean time the woman was outside, weeping because the man she loved more than her husband was about to be killed. The meal started off pleasantly, but the husband was watching his chance, and once when the brother-in-law had an unusually full mouth and could not defend himself he jumped on him, seized him by the throat, cut his head off, and said: “Now you have your feast.”

This done he left the house and sat down among the rocks, waiting to see what his wife would do. She went in and picked up the head, washed it, put it into an intestine bag finely trimmed with sea-otter fur, and, after observing the whereabouts of her husband, started off with it towards the cliff near the house. She went quite a distance before her husband noticed her and started in pursuit, calling to her, “Where are you going?” She answered: “You will see which way I am going; you killed him and you will never see me again.” As he increased his speed she began to run until she reached the top of the cliff, from which she threw herself into the water below. The husband arrived just in time to see her disappear. He stood there watching the spot, believing her drowned; but to his great surprise there emerged two sea-otters, and one went west while the other went east. He went back to the house, where he took his hunting gear and his bidarka and said, “I will end their lives and mine too.” Saying this he launched his skin boat, got into it, and paddled away from the shore, while singing to himself:

“I will end their life,
And I will end mine.
I hear the birds singing
That sing in the spring-time,
So I am going,” etc.

And he upset his bidarka and drowned himself.

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The Woman Who Was Fond of Intestines

An Aleut man’s wife discovers his horrific secret: he slaughters her relatives and brings their intestines home to share with the village. Fleeing in horror, she raises her son in exile. The boy grows up, learns the truth, and plots revenge. With his mother’s help, he lures his father and companions to their doom, ultimately avenging his family and restoring justice.

Source
Aleutian Stories
collected by F.A. Golder
The Journal of American Folklore
Vol. 18, No. 70, Jul. – Sep., 1905

► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The wife’s discovery of her husband’s infidelity and his gruesome actions against her relatives underscores themes of trust and treachery.

Revenge and Justice: The son, upon learning of his father’s atrocities, orchestrates a plan to avenge his family, aiming to restore moral balance.

Transformation: The emotional and psychological transformations of the characters, especially the son’s journey from innocence to a vengeful figure, are central to the story.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

Once there lived an Aleut with his wife and little boy. The wife was very fond of intestines, and early each morning the husband would go out in his bidarka hunting, and return in the evening with a boat full of intestines which he gave to his wife, telling her to keep what she wanted for herself, and distribute the rest among her neighbors.

The wife was somewhat puzzled by the husband’s actions; she could not understand why he went so early in the morning, where he got so many intestines, or his reasons for wishing to have them distributed among the villagers.

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She, of course, did not know that her husband had a mistress in the village whom he went to see while his wife was asleep, and that he desired the intestines distributed in order that his wife’s rival might have a share.

All of a sudden, without explanations, the man ceased going out early, and when he did go, he came back but lightly loaded. This did not in the least clear up the mystery to the wife. But one day, when he had gone somewhat later than usually, his mistress called on his wife, whom she found busy sewing a kamalayka out of the intestines her husband brought. The two got into a conversation, and, among other questions, the mistress asked:

“Does your husband love you?” — “Yes.”
“Do you love him?” — “Yes.”
“Do you know where he gets all the intestines?” — “No.”
“Can you guess why he has them distributed over the village?” — “No.”

“I will tell you,” said the mistress, “but you must not tell him I told you. Every day your husband goes to the village where your parents and relatives live and where you lived before your marriage, and kills the people there and brings their intestines to you. Yesterday there were but five people remaining in the village : your mother, your two sisters, and two brothers. He killed your mother and sisters yesterday, and to-day he went to bring the intestines of your brothers. He is in love with another woman of this village, whom he visits nightly when you have fallen asleep.”

With this parting shot she left the house, leaving the poor wife weeping so bitterly that the kamalayka was hot from her tears. For the rest of the day she did not stir from the house, but sat lamenting and sewing. Towards evening her little boy rushed in announcing the approach of his father, which she generally anticipated with pleasure, and always went down to the beach to meet him; but this time she neither answered nor made the least motion. A few minutes later the little son came again saying, “Father is here,” but all the reply he got was a new outburst of weeping.

Missing the usual meeting and greeting of his wife, the father asked the little boy where his mother was, and when told of the state she was in, he hastened to the house, where he found her on the floor shedding bitter tears and sewing the kamalayka.

“Why do you weep? has some one offended you?” — “No one has offended me.”
“Why then this lamentation?” — “I was thinking of my mother, sisters, and brothers, and my other relatives in my native village, and I wondered how they were getting along, and this made me weep.”

He did not attempt to cheer her, but after a pause he said, “I did not kill many animals to-day — two only.” This enraged her so that she jumped up from the floor, picked up the little boy, who was near her, and threw him at him, saying, “If my two brothers do not satisfy you, take him also.” The boy’s forehead came in contact with the edge of a sharp knife on the father’s breast, making quite a gash from which the blood flowed freely. This the mother noticed before escaping out of the house.

Putting aside the boy, the man made a dash for the woman, but she got out of his reach, and being the better runner of the two he did not succeed in laying hands on her. She would let him come up quite close to her, and then dash away again until he saw the hopelessness of the chase and gave it up.

In a short time the boy’s wound healed, but it left a very noticeable scar. Now that his mother was gone, his father placed him in the care of his sister, with instructions that he should under no circumstances be allowed to go very far from home. In this manner he passed a few years longer, until he became the proud possessor of a bow and arrows, with which he often amused himself. One day, while indulging in his favorite sport, he began to wonder why his father and aunt forbade his going far from the house; and the more he thought about it the more anxious did he become to go, until he finally concluded “to go just a little distance beyond that hill to see what is there.” On the way he noticed a hillock just ahead of him, at which he discharged his arrow, then ran and got it, aimed at another and another, and became so absorbed in this amusement that he did not observe how far from home it was taking him. One hillock somewhat different from the others especially attracted his attention as offering a good mark. He took aim and sent his arrow flying right into the centre of it; but what was his surprise on approaching the supposed hillock to discover that it was a barrabara, and that the arrow had gone inside through the hole in the top. When he peeped in, he was frightened at the sight of a very wild-looking woman who stared at him, and he began to cry. “Why do you cry?” the woman asked. “I want my arrow.” “Come in and get it,” the woman invited. But he was too scared to do that; he however got up courage enough to stick his foot in, hoping to draw it out that way, and he had nearly succeeded when he heard the woman move.

At this he ran away in tears. The woman called him back, saying: “Do not be afraid of me. I am your mother. It is I who threw you at your father, making the scar on your forehead. Come in, I will not harm you.” When he saw that it was really his mother, he went to her and remained with her two days. During that time she told him his father’s wicked deeds, how he mistreated and neglected her for another, and finally wrought on him so that he swore he would revenge her wrongs. She bade him go home, but attempt nothing for the present, and make no mention of what he had seen and heard.

During the boy’s absence the father was away hunting, but the aunt was quite worked up over the long absence, and ran about the fields looking for him. When he returned she asked him all sorts of questions as to his whereabouts, but all the satisfaction she got from him was that he had lost his way and could not get back. She offered him food, which he refused to touch, and finally refused to answer her when spoken to. Toward evening of the same day his father returned, and, when told that the boy would neither eat nor drink, asked what was the matter with him; but for an answer the boy turned his back on him and went to sleep. The father then inquired of the aunt whether anything unusual had occurred and whether the boy had been far from home, and to all this she replied that all during his (father’s) absence the boy’s life had gone on as ordinarily, and that he was not out of sight of the house the whole time.

As the boy grew older he avoided his father more and more, and when he reached early manhood the father lost control over him and actually feared him. One day, while the older man was away hunting, the young man took his bow and arrows, some food and water, and set out to see his mother. Before going, he told his aunt that he intended going quite a distance from home, and not to be, therefore, uneasy over his long absence. He went to the place where he had last seen his mother, and, as she was not there, he wandered on until on the following day he came in sight of some barrabaras and two men. They answered him when he spoke to them, but when he wished to enter into one of the barrabaras they barred his way. While they were thus disputing, his mother appeared on the scene and motioned to the men to let him pass. When he came inside he was greatly surprised at the quantity of furs that was lying about in great disorder, and at the abundance of meats and other eatables that he found there. He was certain he had never seen anything like it before. After eating, his mother told him to spend the night there, and in the morning take as many of the best furs as he could carry and go back to the village of his father, in order to tempt him and his relatives to come hunting in this neighborhood, which would offer an opportunity to repay him for what he had done. The boy did as he was told, took with him a heavy load of precious furs, and started back.

In his absence, the mother and the people with whom she was living made elaborate and crafty preparations for the reception of the expected guests. In the large barrabara, where the feasts and dances were always held and where visitors were generally received, quantities of oil were sprinkled about and covered up with grass. Along the walls seal-bladders full of oil were concealed, and screened with straw mats. And in this place the visitors were to be received.

The young man’s father was home on his return, and received the present of furs which his son made him with much pleasure, for the boy seemed so kindly disposed that the father hoped that his natural affection for his parent had returned. He inquired the whereabouts of the hunting grounds where the son had secured these skins, and the latter told him that it was not very far, and that it was very rich, and that he planned to go back the next day to the same place, and if he and his men cared to accompany him, he would be glad to show them the way. His offer was accepted, and the following morning a large party left the village for the hunting ground.

Some of the people of the mother’s village had been on the lookout, and when they saw the large party approaching, they changed themselves into wild beasts, — bears, wolves, foxes, etc. The hunters marked them and shot at them, but it had no other result than to drive the beasts nearer and nearer to the village. These tactics the men-beasts repeated until the hunters were decoyed into the village. Seeing so many barrabaras, the men asked the boy who the people were that lived in them. “They are friendly people,” he replied, “with whom I spent the night the last time I was in this neighborhood. To-morrow morning we will go to the other side of the village, where there is a great deal of game.” The people of the village greeted them very cordially, and assigned a place for the night to each one of them; the father and son were given the barrabara where the latter had been entertained on his previous visit. Although the mother was in the same room with them they were not aware of it, for she had concealed herself. Everywhere about them were scattered the richest furs, and the food before them was the choicest and best, and so much of it that it rather made the older man uneasy, for, though an old hunter, he had never seen anything like it before. In the evening all the people of the village, including the guests, went to the large dance-hall, where the formal reception was held and the guests entertained as was customary. One by one they descended through the hole in the roof, the only entrance there was. The interior was lighted up by two rows of stone lamps filled with oil, and grass wicks. On one side of the room sat the local men, while the visitors faced them from the other; the centre was occupied by the women, and on the two sides sat seven or eight men with drums in their hands, on which they played and accompanied their singing. They would take turns; first the local men would sing their local songs, and then the visitors sang theirs. To this music the women danced with men whom they invited from either side.

Everything moved along smoothly and joyfully until the father recognized his wife among the women. She was dancing and moving towards him. At this sight he turned pale and looked for away to get out, but the ladder had been removed. The woman moved up to him, grasped his hand, and dragged him to dance; but he resisted. The boy, who sat near, urged him and pushed him on, but all in vain. Then the woman began to sing him a song in which she went over all his misdeeds, his unfaithfulness, his cruelties, his falsehoods, as well as many of his other shortcomings, and concluded with these words, “You and your men shall never leave this place alive.” When she had said this, all the local people, including the mother and son, were turned into birds or flying insects and flew out through the hole in the roof. The visitors, unable to follow them, remained behind. On the outside grass and wood were ignited and thrown in, which set on fire the grass and oil inside. Then the smoke hole was stopped up; and in this way all those who were inside were smothered to death. A few days later the son went to his father’s village, destroying it as completely as his father had destroyed his mother’s.

He spared, however, his aunt, whom he brought back with him.

The Grouse-Girl

Two men, an old lame man and a young handsome one, live in isolation, hunting daily. A persistent grouse transforms into a beautiful woman, becoming the old man’s wife after being rejected by the younger. Consumed by jealousy, the younger man kills his partner but is scorned by the woman, who reclaims her grouse form and abandons him to loneliness.

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

Love and Betrayal: The younger man’s jealousy leads him to betray and murder his partner, underscoring the destructive power of envy.

Supernatural Beings: The woman’s ability to shift between grouse and human form introduces elements of the supernatural.

Tragic Flaw: The younger man’s envy and impulsiveness result in his ultimate isolation and despair.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

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.

Two men, the older lame and unattractive, the younger sound and handsome, lived by themselves in a barrabara, far from other human beings. When they arose in the morning, they drank some oil — to keep hunger away the rest of the day — and then went out hunting; one to the hills, and the other to the beach. In the evening one returned with seal meat, while his partner brought bear meat. Many years they lived in this manner without seeing or even knowing that other people existed.

After the usual breakfast one morning, the older man went to the beach to hunt, and the younger man to the hills, and in the evening both returned loaded with seal and bear meat respectively. By rubbing together two sticks of wood, they soon had a fire over which they cooked some meat, and, after eating, put on their parkas and sat outside on the barrabara, with their faces toward the sea. While sitting there, a grouse appeared and lit on the barrabara, near the younger man, and commenced pecking. “Why does the grouse come here?” the man asked, and pushed her away. She flew up, but returned a moment later to the place occupied before. Seeing her there again, the handsome fellow said to the other one: “What is the matter with the bird? Her home is on the hills, and yet she is bothering here.”

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He drove her off, but she, not discouraged, came back to him.

“What does she want?” he exclaimed impatiently, and forced her away rather roughly.

When she descended the fourth time, it was by the side of the lame man who took her in his hand, began stroking her, and finally decided to keep her as his pet. Before retiring, the lame man made a nest for the bird near him, and then all turned in for the night.

The next morning the men went hunting as usual. As they approached the barrabara in the evening, they were greatly surprised to see smoke coming out of it, and on entering to find it clean, a warm supper waiting for them, and a pair of new torbarsar (shoes made of sealskin) garters hanging over the lame man’s bed. “Somebody has been here today,” said the younger man; and although they looked outside and inside, they found no one. The grouse was on her nest, her head hidden under her drooping wings, and looked altogether tired. Perceiving her condition, the lame man remarked: “The bird has had nothing to eat or drink the whole day; she must be both hungry and thirsty.”

This little excitement did not prevent them from enjoying their supper, nor did it disturb their sound sleep during the night; and the next morning they proceeded with their daily occupation. As the evening before, they found their home in order, the meat cooked, and a pair of new torbarsars hanging where the garters hung the day previous. The grouse was on her nest, her head under the drooping wings, but no one else was to be found, although they searched a long time. After eating their supper, the older man fed and played with the grouse, and then they all went to sleep.

On account of the stormy weather, the several days following the men remained at home. During that time the bird tried once more to gain the good grace of the handsome man, but he treated her roughly, and would not let her come near him, and she avoided him after this. The first favorable day the two men went in different directions to hunt. As soon as the younger man was out of sight, the lame man squatted down, saying: “I will watch to-day and see who cleans and cooks for us, and makes torbarsars for me.” Slowly and cautiously he crawled back quite close to the barrabara, and waited. The morning passed without giving him a clue, but towards evening he saw smoke coming out of the smoke hole. He crept still closer, and heard footsteps within. While he lay there, guessing who it might be, a young and beautiful girl stepped out. Her face was white, hair and eyebrows black, the parka was of white grouse feathers, and the leggings of the fur seal torbarsars were white with various trimmings. He gazed at her, and when she went in, he followed her, watched her a moment at her work, and then seized her.

“Ai-Ai-Y-a-h!” she exclaimed. “You scared me. Let me go.” Instead he drew her fondly to him, and when he did so, her face reddened with blushes.

“I will not let you go,” he said; but when he noticed a grouse skin on the nest, he freed her, and although she begged to have the skin back, he took it outside, and hid it.

The handsome man was both scared and amazed, but he asked no questions. Since it was customary for a newly married man to stay at home with his wife for a certain time, it was a long time before the old man went out hunting again. When he did so, he always returned before his partner, and generally found a pair of torbarsars or some other present waiting for him; but the younger man found nothing.

Though the younger man asked no questions, and knew not who the girl was and where she came from, he did a great deal of thinking. It puzzled him to know why the girl preferred a lame, old man to him a young, handsome man. She did not like him, he knew, for she never made anything for him, while the lame man had presents forced on him. He finally decided to take matters in his own hands, and make the girl his wife. One night, when the married couple were asleep, he arose and killed the lame man. Going back to his bed, he called to the girl to leave her dead husband, and be his wife. This she refused to do. “You cannot go away from here,” he said; “you will have to be my wife.”

“I will never be your wife,” she answered; and getting up, she searched for the grouse skin among her husband’s things, and found it in his tool bag. This she hid under her parka. When he called her again, saying, “Come, you are my wife,” she replied: “I came here to be your wife, but you did not take me. Three times I came to you, and three times you chased me away. The last time you hurt me. I will not be your wife now.” While speaking, she pulled out the grouse skin, shook it three times, and, when she had finished, pulled it on herself, and flew out through the smoke hole, leaving the young, sound, and handsome man wifeless and partnerless.

The Girl Who Married the Moon

Two cousins, enchanted by the moon, declare their love and play under its light until one is whisked away by a mysterious moon-man to become his wife. Curious and defiant, she disobeys his warnings, discovers celestial secrets, and faces consequences that bind her to share the moon’s labor. Thus, myth explains the moon’s waxing and waning.

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

Forbidden Knowledge: The girl is cautioned against looking behind certain curtains but succumbs to curiosity, uncovering hidden aspects of the moon’s existence.

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for the moon’s waxing and waning phases, attributing them to the shared labor between the moon and the girl.

Love and Betrayal: The initial affection between the girl and the moon-man is tested by her disobedience, leading to a complex dynamic in their relationship.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

Two girls, cousins, lived in a large village; and those evenings when the moon was out they went to the beach to play. Claiming the moon as their husband, they spent the night in gazing and making love to him. For shelter they had a propped-up bidarka (large skin boat), and in the course of the night they changed their positions several times, so as to be face to face with the moon. If on their return to their homes in the morning their parents questioned their whereabouts, they replied that they watched the moon till he passed from sight. Many of the people heard them remark on different occasions that they loved the moon, and wished they, too, were moons.

One evening, in company with other young people, they amused themselves on the beach. Night coming on, the others returned to their homes, but these two remained. When during the night the moon withdrew from sight, one of the girls complained:

“Why does the moon hide himself so suddenly? I like to play with him, and have light.” “I, too,” said the other. Although they thought it was close on to morning, and that the moon had vanished for the night, it was yet midnight with the moon behind the clouds.

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Up to this time they had not noticed their dishevelled hair, and when they now began to put it in order, they were startled by hearing a noise close to them, followed immediately by a young man. He looked at them for a moment, and then said: “You have been professing love for me since a long time. I have watched and observed you, and know you love me, therefore have I come for you. But as my work is hard, I can take only one of you, the more patient one.”

As each claimed superiority in that virtue, he said, “I will decide this point myself; I will take both of you. Now close your eyes, and keep them closed.” So saying, he grabbed each by the hair, and the next moment they were rushing through the air. The patience of one was soon exhausted, and, on peeping, she dropped down, down, down, leaving her hair behind her in his hands. In the morning she found herself near the bidarka, from which she had parted not long since. The other girl, however, kept her eyes closed, and in the morning found herself in a comfortable barrabara, the home of the moon. There as his wife she lived for a time, apparently happy in loving him. Generally he slept during the day, and was out during the night; but frequently he went away in the morning and returned in the evening; at other times he left in the middle of the day, and when he returned, it was night. His irregular going-out and coming-in puzzled her much; but he never offered to explain to her where he went and what he did in his absence.

This silence and indifference piqued her not a little. She bore it as long as she could, and then called him to account.

“You go out every day, every evening, every morning, and every night. Where do you go? What do you do? Who knows the kind of people you associate with, while I am left here behind.”

“I do not associate with the people here, for there are none of my kind here,” said he. “I have work to do, and cannot hang around you all the time.”

“If it is so hard, why don’t you take me with you to help you sometimes,” she asked.

“I have too much hard work to be bothered with you,” he replied.

“I brought you up here because I had no rest when you were down there. You and your lovely cousin were always staring and staring at me. No matter where I looked, your grins always met me. Now stop being foolish and wishing to go with me; for you cannot help me. Stay home, and be a good girl.”

“You don’t expect me to stay home all the time,” she said, weeping. “If I cannot go with you, may I not go out by myself occasionally?”

“Yes, go anywhere you like, except in the two barrabaras yonder. In the corner of each there is a curtain, under which you must on no account look.” Saying this, he left the barrabara, and that night he looked paler than usual.

Shortly after she went out for a walk; and although she went far and in different directions, she could see no people and only the three barrabaras aforementioned. Short trails there were many. Some of them she followed, and in each case stumbled on a man stretched out face down. It gave her much pleasure to kick them, which she invariably did. On being so disturbed, each would turn on her his one bright sparkling eye, and cry out : “Why do you kick me? I am working and am busy.” She kicked them till she was tired and then started home.

The two barrabaras were on her way, and of course, she had to look in. With the exception of a curtain in the corner, the first barrabara was bare. She could not resist the desire to look under the curtain, and when she did so, she beheld a half-moon, a quarter of a moon, and a small piece of a moon. In the second barrabara, she found a full moon, one almost full, and another more than half full. After thinking it over, she could see no harm in trying one on just to see how well it would become her. The one almost full pleased her best, so she put it on one side of her face, and there it stuck. Notwithstanding she cried, “Ai, Ai, Y-a-h’, Ai, Ai, Yah’,” tugged, and pulled it would not come off. Fearing her husband would arrive on the scene, she hastened home, threw herself on the bed, and covered up her face.

There he found her on his return, complaining that her face was paining her. He, however, suspected the real cause, and went out to investigate. On his return, he questioned her about the missing moon. “Yes,” she admitted; “I tried it on just for fun; and now I cannot take it off.” She expected him to fly into a rage, but he did nothing of the kind. Going up to her, he pulled it off gently. Seeing him in such unusual good humor, she related to him the adventures of the day, especially the sport she had with the one-eyed people scattered over the sky.

“They are stars,” he said reprovingly.

When she had concluded, he said to her: “Since of your own free will you put on this moon, wear it from now on, and help me in my hard work. I will begin the month, and go the rounds until the full moon; after that you will start in, and finish out the month, while I rest.” To this arrangement she consented, and ever since then the two have shared the hard work between them.

The Girl Who Married a Star

A chief’s sheltered daughter, confined to her barrabara, resists marriage despite suitors. Succumbing to a stranger’s plea, she escapes, only to endure cruelty from deceitful husbands. Rescued by a mystical old woman, she marries a celestial being, births a unique child, and bridges the earthly and cosmic realms. Her story reflects love, transformation, and finding belonging in an extraordinary union.

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

Journey to the Otherworld: Her marriage to a celestial being symbolizes a transition from the earthly realm to a cosmic or otherworldly existence.

Trials and Tribulations: The narrative details the various challenges and adversities she faces, highlighting her resilience and endurance.

Love and Betrayal: The story explores themes of romantic relationships, including the complexities of trust and deception.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

The chief of a very large village had an only daughter whom he never permitted to go outside of her barrabara Two servant girls were at her beck and call, and they attended to her wants.

One lovely summer day, the earth and sky being clear and blue, the air inspiriting, she felt herself irresistibly drawn to the window by the glad sunshine peeping through it, by the joyful shouts of those outside, and by the plaintive notes of the golden-crowned sparrow: and as she stood there, seeing and not seeing, she thought of her own sad life, and wondered why the pleasures of the other people were closed to her. She stood there a long time, and when she turned away, there were tears in her eyes. Her servants were watching her; on noticing it, she sent them away, one for fresh water, and the other after sweet roots. At their departure her imagination and feelings took again control of her. Her past life stood out before her very distinctly, and she groaned when she thought of the numerous proposals of marriage she had received during the last year; for nearly every day one or more men from the neighboring villages came to ask her in marriage from her father. He was unwilling to part with her, especially against her consent; and she, with her very limited knowledge of men and their ways, thought marriage strange and foolish, and rejected all offers.

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With this subject in her mind, she was interrupted by her servants, who were sent by her father to announce to her that a bidarka with two young men had just arrived to seek her in marriage.

“Oh! why should I marry? Go, and say to them that I have no desire to marry. I am content to live as I am. Here it is warm. Why should I marry when I am not even allowed to go outside?”

One of the servants took the liberty of suggesting that, “One of the fellows is very young and handsome, the other not quite so. You had better marry now.”

“If he pleases you, marry him. I am satisfied and warm here; and why should I marry?” she curtly replied.

“They are waiting for you,” the other servant said, “and you may come outside if you like.”

“Go, bring me the water and roots, and tell them I will not marry.” Saying this, she pushed them outside, and, throwing herself on the bed, had a good cry. When the servants returned with roots and water, they found her in such a state that they feared she was ill. They questioned and tried to pacify her, but she paid no attention to them. “What have we done to you that you should be angry with us. It is not our fault that you please all men, and they desire to marry you. If your father finds out your present condition, he will punish us,” etc.

In the evening she said to the girls, “Go, sleep in the adjoining barrabara; if I need you, I will call you.” When they had filled the stone lamp, fixed her bed, and in other ways arranged for her comfort during the night, they went out.

Unable to sleep, the girl sat up, making sinew thread; and about midnight she heard some one cutting the intestine window, and a man’s voice calling softly, —

“Chit! chit! chit! chit! look this way.” She did not, and went on with her work.

“Chit! chit! chit! chit! just look at me once,” he pleadingly called. If she heard him, she took no notice of him.

“Chit! chit! chit! chit! look at me just once.” For the third time she heard the tempter’s call. This time she looked up, and beheld a very handsome young man, with a face as white as hers, and she asked him, “Why do you ask me to look at you?”

“Come here quick! I wish to marry you,” he whispered.

“What for?”

“Come quick! I am going to marry you. Why spend your days and nights in loneliness here. Come with me and see the world,” he coaxingly said.

Without more ado she obeyed, and with the aid of her lover escaped through the window, and hurried down to the beach. There a bidarka and her lover’s friend were awaiting them, and after stowing her away in the bidarka, they paddled off.

It was daylight when they landed, and she was taken to a nice clean barrabara. Here she lived three days, and during that time she was by turns the wife of both. On the morning of the fourth day she was led to a large, open, cold barrabara, and tied up there. It was in the fall of the year, and the cold wind blew through it, and made her shiver with cold. Her food consisted of bare bones. In this cruel and sure way the men hoped to be rid of her.

The second morning of her imprisonment, and while the men were away hunting, the girl, cold and hungry, heard some one approaching. “Tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck,” it sounded as it drew nearer and nearer until it ceased in the entrance. She raised up the leather door, and a very old, shrunken, shrivelled, and toothless woman, bearing a platter of hot meat, entered and said: “I have brought you some meat, for I know you are hungry. Eat fast.” The girl, being very hungry, ate as fast as she could, but still not fast enough to please the old woman, who continued hurrying her to eat still faster. “Eat faster — they will soon appear — why did you marry them — faster still — they are almost here,” she said almost in one breath. When the girl had done eating, the woman cleaned her teeth, so that no sign of food should be left on the premises, and hastily snatching up her platter, disappeared as mysteriously as she appeared.

“Tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck,” floated back faintly, and died out altogether.

The old woman did not go too quickly; for the men appeared very soon after. “Still she lives; she does not even change color. Somewhat tougher than her predecessors,” they laughingly remarked, and left her. A little later they brought her bones; and the girl went at them as if she were famishing. Noticing that the girl was not the worse from her treatment, and suspecting something was wrong, the men commenced to watch. They would go out a short distance from the shore, and then come right back, and conceal themselves. But during their brief absence the old woman appeared and fed the girl. For several days this spying continued.

Very early one morning, just after the men had gone out in their bidarka, the old woman came, with meat, and speaking rapidly, said, “Eat fast — why did you come here — they have starved many girls before you. If you do not wish to die, come with me. I have a son who desires to marry, but cannot get a wife. This is the last time I come to you — the men have discovered, are aware of my visits. If you come with me, the men shall never find you” —

“I will go with you,” interrupted the girl.

In a twinkle the old woman unbound her, and set her in a large basket, which she put on her back. “Now close your eyes tight, and don’t open them till I tell you,” cautioned the old woman. As they began to move, the girl felt the cold air while they buzzed and whizzed through it. Tiring of keeping her eyes closed, she opened them just a little. “Ai, Ai, Y-a-h,” screamed the old woman, “close them, or we will fall in the water.” The noise and whir of the air. as they rushed through it, was so annoying that she began to unclose her eyes for the second time. “Don’t open them now; we will soon arrive, and then you may look,” pleaded the woman.

When they came to a standstill, the girl found herself in front of a large barrabara. The interior was cozy and clean. A cheerful fire was burning, over which were several pots with seal and duck meat. Spreading out a mat in the front part of the room, the old woman begged the girl to be seated; then she brought her a new pair of torbarsars and a sea-otter parka. While the girl was dressing, the old woman ran outside for a moment, and on her return said to the girl: “Don’t be scared when you see my son; although his appearance is terrifying, yet he is very harmless.” This news had a pensive effect on the girl, for she wondered what she had got into. To distract her from her gloomy thoughts, the old woman placed food, and talked to the girl. Pretty soon she went out again, and hurried back, announcing, “Here comes my son.” The girl, already half-frightened, kept her eyes on the doorway, and when, of a sudden, a lot of willow twigs darkened it, she fell back, screaming, “Ai, Ai, Y-a-h! Ai, Ai, Y-a-h!” The old woman hastened to her, trying to calm her. “Don’t be alarmed,” she said; “this is my son; these are some of his hair.” She stared at him, doubting her own eyes; for he was one-sided. That side, however, was complete, and had all its members in the usual place, except the eye, which was in the forehead, and shone very brilliantly.

“Look at the wife I brought you,” the mother called the son’s attention to the girl. He turned his one eye on her, and, from the way it winked and sparkled, he was well pleased. Probably because he was embarrassed, or perhaps he thought it wise to leave the two women to themselves for a time, he left the room. When he returned, a little later, with seals and several kinds of ducks, he found the bride looking more cheerful. The marriage was not delayed at all. In the course of a very short time a child was born, a boy, who was the perfect image of his father, and “just as pretty,” as the grandmother said. There was happiness and no lack of cheering light in the family, especially when pretty, one-sided baby awoke and opened his little wee sparkling eye. Mamma, as was natural, vowed it was the brightest baby she had ever seen, and it had more expression in its one eye than other babies had in their two eyes and face together, to which statement grandmother readily agreed.

Although a bride of several months, the girl had not yet become well acquainted with her husband and his strange body, as is shown from the following incident: One night being stormy, the husband did not go out as usual, and during the night he asked his wife to scratch his moss-covered head, in which his hair, the twigs, were rooted. Telling him to keep his eye open, so she could see, she commenced the operation with the twigs first. In doing so, she disturbed a mouse, which ran and hid in its hole in the moss. “Ai, Ai, Y-a-h!” she shrieked, and dropped his head; “there are mice in your head.”

“Oh, no !” he declared, “they are mere fleas.”

A year had passed since the happy marriage between the son of the sky and the daughter of the earth took place. The one-sided result of this marriage began to grow and become strong. Motherhood brought with it the desire to see her own parents once more. Permission to do this was granted, and the mother-in-law set about making a basket in which to send her down. When it was done, she called the young mother to the fireplace, around which were four flat rocks, and said: “Raise these rocks, and try and find your father’s village.” Darkness of night was in the first one; the rosy tints of dawn were visible in the second; a grand sunset filled the third; and in the fourth she recognized the village of her father, wrapped in midday splendor. Then she seated herself in the basket, to which a rope was tied; but, before lowering her, the mother-in-law gave her some advice: “Close your eyes tight, and don’t open them, for if you do you will fall. Should you meet with an obstacle on the way, stamp your foot, and it will disappear. A second obstacle may impede your progress; do likewise, and it too will vanish. When for the third time the basket stops, unclose your eyes, and you will find yourself in the home of your childhood. If it does not please you down there, seat yourself in the basket again, pull on the rope, and I will draw you up.”

Placing the child in her arms, the old woman lowered away, and after encountering the enumerated obstacles, the young woman saw in front her native village. To the barrabara of her father she directed her footsteps, and, as she drew near, she noticed a grave close by. For when she disappeared so suddenly, her parents, thinking her dead, made a grave for her, probably to take her place (?). She went in, and when the people there saw her with the queer-looking child in her arms, they ran pell-mell out of there, thinking she returned from the land of the dead.

This reception brought tears to her eyes, and, realizing for the first time the great gulf that separated her from her earthly relatives, and that her real home now was with the father of her child, she walked back to the basket, gave the signal, and a little later was welcomed by her mother-in-law and husband, from whom she parted no more, and with whom she is living to this day.

Her husband is a star. At sunrise each morning he goes to sleep for a few hours; after that he hunts ducks, seals, and other sea animals. If, on his return in the evening, it is cloudy and stormy, he spends the night at home with his family; but if it is clear, he stretches himself out on the sky, and observes the doings of the world below, as any one who takes the trouble to look up can see.