The widow’s vengeance

This Inuit tale follows Kujanguak, a widow’s son, who transforms from a marginalized boy to a skillful kayaker and hunter under his mother’s guidance. After facing mockery and rejection from their neighbors, Kujanguak proves his prowess by defeating a bear and securing abundant food. His mother’s cunning ultimately leads to the downfall of their oppressors, except for one survivor who becomes an outcast, highlighting resilience and justice.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: Kujanguak evolves from a marginalized boy into a skillful kayaker and hunter under his mother’s guidance.

Revenge and Justice: The widow’s cunning leads to the downfall of their oppressors, restoring justice for the mistreatment they endured.

Trials and Tribulations: Kujanguak faces and overcomes challenges, including mockery from neighbors and the formidable task of defeating a bear, demonstrating resilience and determination.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


From one of the older manuscripts.

There was a widow with a son named Kujanguak; beyond her house was another one, inhabited by a number of brothers, all clever at their profession, and well off. Whenever they had brought home any seals, the widow, according to the custom, would send her son to get a tamorasak (viz., little bit of blubber); but the men replied, “Thou lazy beggar, thou never assisted us in providing anything; so thou wilt not get anything neither.” On his returning with this answer, his mother only said, “Never mind, just let them talk.” One day they caught a mamartok (viz., a delicious kind of seal — one that has shed hair). The mother now took a stronger fancy than ever for a little morsel, and sent her son for it; but he was treated as usual: the men took a bit of whatever they could lay hand on, and flung it at him.

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When he came back and gave their message to his mother, she was in a great rage; and taking one of her boots, seated herself in a corner of the ledge to practise some charm. On the following morning, when her son looked into the pot, there was an eider-duck in it. The mother merely remarked, “Just take it.” Part of it she boiled, and the rest was put by for future use. In the evening she repeated her charms and spells, and a small seal was found in the water-tub. The third day, the son, to his great surprise, saw standing on the floor a completely furnished kayak; the mother took him down to the beach, and made him practise paddling, as well as upsetting and again righting, till he had got quite expert at these things. The following day she let him go out again, and pointing to an iceberg, told him to round it in his kayak. He pushed off at her bidding, and when he was out of sight, she returned to the house. The neighbours likewise set off, and saw Kujanguak attacking a bear, which at last took refuge on an iceberg. The eldest of the brothers tried to climb it, but was not able. After him Kujanguak made the attempt; and having first asked the other to take care of his kayak, he clutched hold of the ice, and scrambled up. At the very top he encountered the bear, and immediately fell upon it; and taking hold of it by the neck, flung it down into the sea, stone-dead. The youngest of the brothers, Sanak, cried out, “I have got a bear!” but Kujanguak quietly descended, got into his kayak, fastened his towing-line to the bear, and paddled home, followed by the other kayakers, who had given him their assistance. The mother now went down to the beach, accompanied by the sister of the brothers. While they were busy dragging the bear up to the house, the mother mockingly observed, turning to her, “Who knows how nourishing that flesh may be!” adding, “Now haul it up the rest of the way thyself; I am going to fetch water.” Having finished this task, however, she returned to the bear, and now divided it into two equal parts, of which she gave her companion one, saying, “The skin thou mayst keep for a ledge-cover.” She then boiled the flesh, and invited the whole party to partake of it. The other woman she asked to sit down on the main ledge; and when she had served the meal up she remarked, “It is a pity one cannot make sure whether there is any nourishment about this game of Kujanguak’s.” The woman visitor said, “I have been longing ever so much for bear’s meat lately.” They all ate well; and on taking leave the female visitor thanked her saying, that she had altogether found it a delicious and hearty feed. The following day Kujanguak again set off to the iceberg, and got a large seal. When he was returning towing it homewards, he chanced to encounter the brothers. Happily his mother had advised him beforehand, “If ever they venture to persecute thee, take some water out of the sea with thy left hand, and moisten thy lips with it.” Kujanguak tried this as soon as they all came rushing in upon him. The eldest brother began the attack by catching hold of the kayak point, doing his utmost to upset it; but no sooner had Kujanguak tasted the water with his lips than the other let it go. Sanak now said, “Look at the foaming breakers there! let us try which of us can first get beyond them;” and all of them pushed on as fast as possible. Kujanguak, who had a seal on his line, was first obliged to tighten it; but this done, he pushed on like a shot, and soon came up with the eldest brother, ahead of the others; and while they rowed outside of the breakers, Kujanguak went right across them, carried along by the surf. When the waves retreated, he jumped out upon the rocks; and when the breakers came rolling on again, he hastened back into the kayak. On the way home the brothers secretly consulted to surround him; however, he made his escape from them. Meanwhile his mother suddenly missed a certain lock of hair, and knowing this to be a bad omen for her son, was very anxious about him, until it shortly afterwards proved to be in its proper place on her forehead. Reassured with regard to her son, she now mounted the hills to look out for his return. On landing he was received on the beach by her along with the other woman, who asked him how her brothers had fared. He answered her, “I wonder thou carest to bother thyself about those stupid fellows!” When the flesh of the seal had been prepared, and the men were supping upon the briskets, the mother of the many sons grew envious and resentful because she was not invited to share the good fare. On hearing this, the widow cut a piece of the loin, and having pronounced a spell upon it, carried it to her by way of a present. When they sat down to eat it, Sanak was almost suffocated, and presently his old mother likewise cried for water. Having got a drink, she recovered; Sanak, however, expired. When the widow re-entered the room, the eldest brother accused her of the deed, saying, “You only fed them to work their destruction — it is none but thou who hast killed them!” and, at the same time, he rose and rushed against the house-pillars, in order to shake it down and make it fall over her: but the widow replaced them quickly. Again he rose from his seat, and turning towards the widow herself, he quickly snatched off the two points of her jacket — the one in front as well as the one behind. Little heeding this affront, she now ran out, and told her son that two of their adversaries had now been despatched. In the enjoyment of the happy event, they both bolted across the boat in great glee; however, the mother happened to break her back. When Kujanguak had got her indoors, she took some filth from beneath the place where her dead mother used to put all kinds of dirty refuse, and threw it out at the house of their enemies. This brought sickness upon them, from which all of them died excepting the sister, who turned kivigtok (i.e., one who has fled from mankind).


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The dog

An old couple’s sons, known for their hunting prowess, were killed by inlanders, leaving the family destitute. The grieving mother adopted a magical dog, nursing it with her own milk. The dog avenged the sons by frightening their killers to death and provided food for the parents. Later feared by the mother, the dog was abandoned. Its enduring howling at departing boats is linked to this tale.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: The dog exhibits magical abilities, such as speaking and using its powers to avenge the family’s loss.

Revenge and Justice: The dog seeks retribution against the inlanders who killed the couple’s sons, ensuring justice for the grieving parents.

Supernatural Beings: The dog’s magical nature and abilities highlight interactions with the supernatural within the narrative.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


This tale is taken from a single manuscript.

An old married couple had two sons and a little daughter. The sons were renowned for strength, and for being able hunters. They used to return with their seals towing in a long line behind them. But one day they did not return. While the parents were still expecting them, a man brought the sad news that he had seen them both hanging on an inaccessible rock. They were hung up by the feet, head downwards, and nobody could get at them to save them. This deed had been done by the inlanders. While the old parents were in deep affliction for their loss, they heard that some of their neighbours had a dog with a great many whelps. The mother sent the daughter away to fetch one, which she adopted, and had it always on the ledge beside her, nursing it with her own milk.

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In the winter, she noticed that the dog (being endowed with magic power) sometimes went on scratching his face, and at the same time always commencing to speak, and asking, “What do I look like now?” Towards the end of the winter they were in great want, having lost their protectors. The dog then said he was going for a walk into the country. One night be roused his foster-mother, and having given himself a scratching, inquired, “Am I still good-looking? I shall be off tomorrow.” The reason for thus scratching itself was to frighten people to death (viz., by charm). He came upon the inlanders while they were busy conjuring spirits. The angakok soon foretold his coming, and cried, “Fire! fire!” but the dog scratched his face, and rushed into the passage, hiding itself there. When the people came out, bringing lights with them, the dog frightened them to death on the spot. Next he set off in search of their storehouse, and carried some victuals back to his foster-parents, and showed them the place where they could find the rest. But from that time upwards the woman began to fear him; and in the spring, when the boat was loaded and ready for starting, she asked the dog to go back to the house and bring her something she had forgotten. As soon as it had disappeared to obey her orders, they pushed off from land, and set out on their journey. But the dog went on following along the shore until they gained the last point, from which it could follow them no longer. There it remained whining and howling. It is supposed that this is the origin of the present custom with the dogs to follow the departing boat along the coast, and go on howling at them from the last point of land.


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The orphans

An orphaned brother and sister endure cruelty from foster parents who abandon them with little food. Using magic taught by their mother, they escape and transform the brother into a seal to outwit hunters and survive. Growing strong, the siblings eventually confront their oppressors, seeking justice. The brother avenges past humiliations, ultimately leading to their freedom and self-reliance through skill and resilience.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: The brother uses magic to transform into a seal, enabling the siblings to survive and eventually confront their oppressors.

Cunning and Deception: The siblings employ cleverness and disguise to outwit hunters and overcome the challenges posed by their foster parents.

Revenge and Justice: The brother seeks retribution against those who mistreated them, leading to their ultimate freedom and self-reliance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


At a well-peopled settlement there lived an old couple, with an only son and a younger daughter; but the parents died before they were grown up. They, however, soon got foster-parents, but these did not love them — they were always scolded, and left to seek their food on the beach at low-water. One spring, when the people were going to start on their summer travels, they put the children into an empty house, with a small portion of food, closed the entrance with large stones, and then left them. When the poor orphans were wellnigh starving, they rummaged about the empty room to find something to allay their hunger, and fell to eating all the old leavings they could get hold of.

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When these were finished, the sister found an instrument for boring. As they could not reach the ceiling, they heaped up stones to stand upon, and in this way managed to make a hole in the roof to creep through. The brother first helped his sister to escape, and then got out himself. Outside they could see tents standing in rows on the islets, they being themselves on the main land; by the smoke they observed, they knew them to be cooking all the day, and they could see the kayakers pursuing the seals. Being hungry, they went to the place where the seals used to be stripped and cut up in the winter, hoping to find some old bits to eat, and they were fortunate enough to find the head of a small thong-seal. When they had eaten a part of it, the sister stripped off the skin, prepared it, and said to the brother, “I am going to make a disguise for thee; dost not thou remember the magic song our mother taught us?” “Indeed I do; and I even remember one for raising a storm. Make haste and get ready the skin.” She rubbed it hard, at the same time singing over it, and all the while it grew larger and larger. He tried it on, but found that it only touched his knees. She rubbed still more, and at last he could wrap himself quite up in it. The sister fastened it on him, saying, “There, thou lookest just like a young thong-seal; now try the water,” — and he went to the beach. He leapt down, while she remained singing the magic lay, and saying, “Now dive down!” When he reappeared on the surface she said, “Thou art looking like a little dovekie; I will sing again:” and when he again appeared, she said, “Well, now, thou art quite like a thong-seal; come!” When he rose the next morning and came outside, it was fine weather and quite calm; and seeing that no kayaker from the islets had left land, he took a fancy to play the seal. He put on his disguise and leapt into the sea. No sooner was he observed from the tents than they called out, “There is a young seal; let us be off and chase it!” There was plenty of joking, and a great bustle, and the men got their kayaks down into the sea in a great hurry. In the meantime he dived, but as he could not keep his breath all the time, he rose to the surface behind one of the kayakers, and took breath without being observed. In the hurry of the moment, some of the men had forgotten to put on their kayak-jackets, though they were rather far out at sea. These the disguised boy had picked out to wreak his vengeance on. He sang the lay for raising the wind, and all of a sudden a gale began to blow. The hunters hastened to put back and reach home; but those who were not in proper trim had their kayaks filled with water, and perished. When the brother came on shore, he said to his sister, “I believe we may safely venture to let them see we are still alive. Now they have lost some of their people, we may probably be of some use to them, and may be they will fetch us off;” and they proceeded to make signs to attract attention. As soon as they were observed by the people on the opposite islands, these said to one another, “Let us get them over; we are in want of people.” A boat was soon despatched; and after a while the orphans recovered. Later on in the summer they were taken into a boat’s crew as rowers, and went up a firth for a deer-hunting station; but their master was not kind to them, and when he had got his first buck, he gave the boy the knee-pan, and said, “Until thou hast swallowed that, thou shalt have nothing else to eat.” He was almost choked with it, but at last managed to make it go down, and then had his meal; but he never forgot the knee-pan. When the deer-hunting was at an end in the autumn, some people were leaving for the north, and the orphans were among their party, and thus left their former masters. They were not yet quite grown up; but they went on practising all manner of hard exercise, in order to increase their strength. In this they both succeeded; and the brother turned out to be an excellent seal-hunter besides. Some years afterwards, they travelled back to the south, and again came across the man who had made him swallow the knee-pan, but he had now grown quite old. Game was scarce in the middle of winter, but the young man still went out and tried his luck. One day he brought home a large thong-seal, and ordered the sister to boil down the blubber into train-oil. This done, he invited all their neighbours; and when the meal was served up, he addressed the old man, saying, “I would like to know whether it be easier to swallow a knee-pan or to drink boiling-hot oil? Just thou try, or otherwise thou wilt have no supper.” The old man hesitated, but drank it off at last; but his throat got scalded, and he died in the act of drinking. The young man was thus appeased, and left the place on the first thaw.

There is a story of some other orphans, that they were left helpless and destitute at the winter-quarters when all the rest of the people went deer-hunting; but when they were at the point of starving, they heard a noise on the roof of the doorway, and on looking out to see what it was, they found a ptarmigan. The next day came a small seal, and when that was finished, a large saddleback seal. Of other orphans it is told that the eldest, a boy, died of starvation; but that the girl, left alone, one day happened to see some kayakers hallo-hunting (viz., by driving the seals). When they had finished, one of them brought her a little seal; and when they again put out to sea, she observed them all turning into gulls and flying away. When she had returned, and lay all alone in the house, a queer little woman brought her a fire that could never be extinguished. Of another orphan the legend is, that he taught himself to walk on the surface of the ocean.


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Namak

Namak, an orphan raised by a taunting foster father, grew strong and skilled with a sling, driven by vengeance for his parents’ murder. His foster father’s provocations sharpened his resolve and strength, culminating in the destruction of his enemies’ boats. Later, Namak continued his quest for revenge alongside his son, asserting dominance through cunning and physical prowess, ultimately embodying the strength born of adversity and unresolved conflict.

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


► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: Namak’s journey is driven by a desire to avenge his parents’ murder, seeking retribution against their killers.

Trials and Tribulations: Throughout his life, Namak faces numerous challenges, including taunts from his foster father and the need to develop his strength and skills to confront his enemies.

Cunning and Deception: Namak employs clever tactics, such as feigning weakness to conceal his growing strength, ultimately using his cunning to achieve his goals.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Of this story there is only one manuscript, written down in North Greenland before 1828.

The parents of Namak were both killed by their house-fellows; and while he was as yet but a weak and helpless child, a man happened to take pity on him and adopted him for his son. But this same foster-father was fond of worrying the boy, and inventing stories to frighten and excite him. Sometimes, when the child was asleep, he would cry out, “Namak, thy enemies have come to kill thee, too.” At first he was much alarmed, but by degrees he got used to it. But sometimes his foster-father would say, “Ah, how forgetful that Namak is! Here are his parents newly murdered, and he forgetting all about it.” At this, Namak would get into a great rage. When he was still a child, his father one day made him a present of a sling, saying, “I don’t mean to give thee a kayak, because I believe that thy enemies will kill thee for all that; but take this sling and practise with it.”

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Namak instantly began to do so, and soon got very clever in using it. In the spring he would betake himself to solitary places, practising his sling, always pondering over the things his foster-father had said to stir up vengeance within him. At home he spoke little, but inwardly rejoiced at his growing strength. Sometimes he brought in hares, and sometimes ptarmigan; he got them entirely by means of his sling. In the summer he never slept at night, but always in the day-time. Sometimes, when he had gone to sleep, his father would bring home a seal, and he was then awakened to assist in carrying it up to the house; but he would then hide his strength, and make-believe it was very hard work for him. One day, however, he said that his sling was too weak, and his father went to cut him a stronger one out of a very thick piece of seal-skin; and after that time he left off gibing the boy, because he began to fear him. During the winter it was reported that the enemies of Namak intended to remove farther to the north in spring. He got quite enraged at the thought that they would be going away before he could be revenged; and from that day his manner changed altogether. When spring came round, and they left their winter-house for the tents, he one day said, “I wish I could get myself a new sling.” On hearing this, the father went out in his kayak, and had the good-luck to catch a thong-seal [Phoca barbata]. This he brought in while Namak was still asleep. When the women were busy flensing it, and preparing the skin for boat-covers, the husband said, “It just occurs to me that Namak is wanting a sling.” He then roused him, saying, “Namak, thy enemies are making ready to depart.” He awoke and ran out, and stood staring at the neighbours. On his way down to the beach, his foster-father said to him, “Just cut out a line for thy sling, wherever thou choosest.” Keeping an eye upon his neighbours, he took the knife from his father, lifted up the seal by one of the forepaws with only one hand, and turning it over without any difficulty, cut himself a sling to his liking, all in one piece. On seeing this, his foster-father got quite frightened. Some time after this, their neighbours were really going to depart. Namak slept, and his father roused him with these words, “Namak, this time thou mayst believe me; thy enemies are in the very act of departing:” but Namak did not think fit to stir; he had been cheated too often. The father again cried to him, “Now they are taking their tents away,” — and as he himself could hear the clattering of the bars and poles, he rose and put on jacket and boots, but without getting into the sleeves of his jacket, and catching hold of his sling from under the ledge, he hid it inside. Further down on the beach were some large stone-heaps; there he lay in ambush. Now that he had determined to revenge himself, he no more concealed his strength. While some were yet bringing down their luggage, the first boat put out, rowing briskly, and when right athwart of him, Namak put a big stone in his sling, and threw it into the boat, where it made a large hole, so that it instantly began to sink. “Alas! alas!” they cried. The other boat hurried on to rescue them, but underwent the same fate. The third one tried to save itself by turning in time, but at that instant he flung the stone at it, hitting the prow and cleaving right through; and thus he destroyed three boats, crews and all, and his mind now got rest. One boat was saved from destruction, as it had gone out to sea at once, instead of keeping along the shore. His enemies increased in number after they had established themselves somewhere in the north; and seeing that they had reason to fear him, they trained themselves to be as vigorous as he. Namak married, and though he had never had a kayak himself, he taught his son to practise kayak-paddling. He grew up and came to be an excellent kayaker; and subsequently owned a boat as well as a tent. Now and then reports reached them from their enemies that they were numerous, and also strong. At last he persuaded his son to go and look them up; and in spring they went away northward in their boat, asking the people they met with, “Where are Namak’s enemies?” “Farther north” was the constant answer. At last they learned that their station was close at hand; and from that time they did not as usual land in the evening to take rest, but rowed on incessantly. On their arrival they asked the people who came down to the beach to meet them, “Where are Namak’s enemies?” To this, however, they made no reply, but entered their houses, and the travellers had to make their way on shore by themselves; neither were they afterwards invited to visit them. However, they took up their winter-quarters at that very place, and settled down for the time. In the beginning of their stay, Namak advised his son to watch them closely, but afterwards they got less suspicious. That same winter, one morning, it blew a gale from the south-west, and the kayakers remained at home, and on that day it was announced, “They all want to see Namak.” He was ready in a moment; the son likewise went: and thus they were going to visit their enemies for the first time. There was only set forth meat for two. The son did not taste much of it, but the father continued eating till the dish was nearly emptied. The visitors did not speak; but at length one of the other party proposed different sports, saying, “Ye ought to try strength at the pulling-thong first;” and then he took out the string fitted with walrus-teeth from beneath the ledge, and threw it upon the skin which was spread on the floor for the champions. But Namak said, “This is but child’s-play for people who really want to try a match;” and so saying, he took hold of and tore the thong asunder with one hand, and then flung them down on the floor. Another offered to try strength with him, by hooking their arms together, and trying to pull each other over. Namak did not hesitate, but at once sat down on the skin. They now tried one after another, but nobody was able to move his arm in the least. Seeing that they were not able to match him, they all departed. The son went home, but Namak never stirred, but stayed on. At last, however, he prepared to put on his outer coat, and did it very slowly and deliberately, always expecting an attack. They were never invited afterwards. In spring they again wanted to go to the south, and at parting he let his house-fellows first go into the boat, while he kept back, still expecting an attack from his enemies; but seeing that they did not come, he finally left the place.

The native writer has added the following very characteristic remark: “It is generally supposed that if his foster-father had not continually excited him, he would scarcely have grown to be so immensely strong. People say that among our ancestors, before they became Christians, there was no lack of strong men, because their bad consciences induced them to cultivate their strength. Nowadays, since people have turned Christians, and have no bad consciences, there are no strong men among them.”


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The reindeer-hunt of Merkisalik

Merkisalik, an aging hunter, relied on his son to provide for their family. Visitors arrived, disrupting their peaceful life and mocking his son’s hunting abilities. Despite his patience, the son retaliated by outsmarting them during a hunt. Later, his death, caused by the visitors’ malice, left Merkisalik and his wife devastated. Seeking revenge, Merkisalik created a tupilak, a magical creature, which methodically avenged his son by destroying their enemies.

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


► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: After the tragic death of his son due to the visitors’ malice, Merkisalik seeks retribution by creating a tupilak, a magical creature, to avenge his son’s death.

Cunning and Deception: Merkisalik’s son, initially marginalized by the visitors during the hunts, cleverly outsmarts them, showcasing his wit and resourcefulness.

Supernatural Beings: The creation of the tupilak—a mystical entity—highlights the involvement of supernatural elements in the narrative, reflecting the spiritual beliefs of the Inuit culture.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


This story is compiled from two copies, one of which had been noted down in North Greenland before 1828.

Merkisalik had only one son to assist him in providing for his family. In the summer-time they always used to hunt along the shores of the same fiord without any other company. Growing old and infirm, Merkisalik at length had to give up hunting and leave the providing to his son. Once when they had again taken up their abode at the fiord, and the son, as was his wont, had gone out hunting, the old people were left by themselves, expecting no visitors. Taking a turn outside the tent, they suddenly observed a boat sailing up the inlet right before the wind, accompanied by several kayakers. Merkisalik was much pleased at this sight, and ordered his wife to put out some dry meat, to let them have a bite on landing. He rejoiced to think that his son should henceforth have companions on his hunting excursions.

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There were a great number of men among the visitors, some of whom were old and rather talkative and entertaining. When the son returned from the mountains, he was likewise very glad of the company they had got. He treated them with the utmost hospitality, and invited them to partake of the meal as soon as it was boiled and ready. Meanwhile they all conversed very politely, and soon agreed in going out together the next day. They did so, and before long came in sight of a number of animals feeding on the grass down in the valleys. When the drivers were all sent out, the hunters proceeded to make walls of earth, furnished with loopholes. The visitors now proposed that Merkisalik’s son should be the last to shoot, and he agreed; but when the drivers had surrounded the animals, and began to drive them on towards the loopholed walls, the thought struck him, “What if they are too greedy to leave me any chance at all?” Meanwhile the others took aim, and shot all that were to be got. He afterwards assisted them in stripping off the skins; but on their descending the hills towards the tents, he remained a little behind. When the strangers returned they at once set their women to cook and prepare a meal, to which Merkisalik and his people were invited. During supper one of the men remarked, “There must be any amount of animals in this place, since even Merkisalik’s son is capable of getting at them.” The Merkisaliks heard this slight in silence; but afterwards, when they got into their own tent and sat down together, the father said, “It can’t be otherwise; we must just let them have their way, seeing that they are so many.” The following day was spent in the same manner; they treated Merkisalik’s son as they had done the day before, only allowing him to take up his position as far away as possible from the drivers: but on their way home he again kept back a little. Before long, however, he rejoined them, and on their return home the Merkisaliks were again invited to eat of the day’s hunt. The man who the day before had scorned Merkisalik’s son, now spoke to him in a similar fashion, at which he got into a great passion. However, they set out together the next day, and got to the entrance of a great valley, which appeared to be almost overcrowded with reindeer. As before, they ordered him to choose his hiding-place, and make his loophole behind them all, at which he murmured to himself, “If this is to go on, I shall never be able to get anything. I think I will give the beasts the alarm, that they may all run away.” When the flock approached, driven by the drivers, he feigned to be busy about something or other. At last he was warned to be quiet, that the animals might not see him; but he only stopped a moment, and then began to move about again. In the mean time the flock was close by, when, all of a sudden, the leader stopped short, turned round, and bounded off as fast as possible. On perceiving this, the others began to follow him, but dropped short one after another, so that at the other end of the valley but one of them had kept up with him, and this one soon tired out; and when he was about to mount the slope he was left quite alone. Merkisalik’s son shortly disappeared on the other side of the hills, pursuing the fast-running animals. Slowly the men followed in his traces: but when they got to the top of the hill, they beheld numbers of deer with white bellies ready killed in the valley on the other side; and on a stone close by, the huntsman was seated, already quite cool and refreshed. The others now arrived, their faces all red with heat and wrath, and nobody spoke. They at once set to work, stripping the deer; but while the others finished one, he stripped and cut up two, and packing his bundle, he said, “Ye may all of you take as much as ye like.” The man who had formerly ridiculed and mocked him did not altogether like this speech, but became quite mute, and would not join the rest. On the way home they separated. Merkisalik’s son had now got into his old ways, and was in front of the rest. Carrying his burden on his back, and now and then resting himself a little, he got home first of all. When the others came without anything, the Merkisaliks had already all their pots and pans on the fire, and, after their wont, invited the foreigners to join them. During the meal the host tried to begin a conversation, but without success; they all remained mute, and even their old father kept silent. Having done eating, they retired, excepting the father, who now began to be a little talkative, and, as if by chance, remarked, “We want something that would do for a gimlet; would ye mind letting me have that knuckle?” Merkisalik gave it to him willingly, saying, “We have got lots of them.” On the following morning the Merkisaliks were aroused by a clattering noise, as of poles, and peeping out, they saw the visitors pulling down their tent and preparing to depart. Thus they were once more alone; and their son again went out hunting all by himself. One day, when he was still busy bringing down the deer he had stalked to their station, he told them that he had got a swelling at his knee. It grew in size, and was getting worse and worse. The parents were much distressed, and at length he died, but not till he had made known to them that his disease was solely caused by the father of their former visitors, who, in order to hurt him, had bewitched the knee-joint he had asked of them, which had worked back upon him and killed him. The poor old people were inconsolable. It was now autumn; the little lakes began to be covered with ice, and it was time to leave the inland country for the sea-coast: so one fine morning they made preparations to go. They first wept at the tomb of their son, and, still wailing and complaining, they went down the firth with a light easterly breeze. Having arrived at their winter-quarters, Merkisalik’s mind was filled with hatred, and he was always contemplating revenge. In order to carry it out, he resolved to make a tupilak to destroy his enemies. To this end he every day collected bones of all sorts of animals, and put them into the brook close by to whiten, and then mixed them up with hairs taken from boat-skins; and when he had got as many as he required, he made them alive, and put them into the brook which flowed on to the sea. While he was watching the tupilak, he saw it was taking the shape of an agpaliarsuk [the smallest auk, Mergulus alle], that dived down and turned round to its owner; but he said, “Thou art not the thing I want thee to be yet.” Instantly it dived down and reappeared in the shape of a dovekie [Uria grylle]. Again he said, “That won’t do neither.” It underwent many changes and took the shape of all sorts of birds; but he rejected them all. Then it was transformed into all manner of seals and dolphins; but they did not suit him either. At last, after another dive beneath the surface of the water, its breath was heard like a mighty roar, and he beheld a small whale, and then he said, “This will do; thou shalt avenge us.” The animal now seemed to inquire, “Where am I to go?” and he replied, “To the hunting place of the many brothers.” At these words it took one long breath, then dived down into the sea; and the man returned home and bided his time, waiting to hear how the family would fare who lived a little to the north of them. One evening a kayaker appeared rounding the northern point, and in him he soon recognised a poor relative and very old man, who for some time had had his quarters at the same place as their former visitors. On their way from the beach up to the house, he related what follows: “Some days ago an accident occurred up at our place; one of the many brothers has not returned home. The day before his departure he told us that he had harpooned a little whale, adding that he would now go out in search of it; but he has never yet returned.” The maker of the tupilak feigned compassion, saying, “He must, of course, have managed awkwardly somehow;” but inwardly he rejoiced at this intelligence. When the visitor departed, he asked him soon to return, but he did not do so for a good long while. When at length he did come, he again reported: “Yesterday the same accident happened to another of the brothers.” When the visitor was about to depart, Merkisalik encouraged him soon to return, saying, “We are always glad to see thee; now come back as soon as thou canst.” After another long interval he once came back, and told them that the last of the brothers had now disappeared, adding that the poor parents were very much grieved because of their bereavement. On hearing this, Merkisalik’s wrath was somewhat appeased.


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Navaranak or Javraganak

This apparently historical tradition has been given in two separate narratives, the original copies not agreeing sufficiently to admit of their being combined into one, although they have evidently sprung from the same source. The variants of this tale exemplify in a very remarkable manner how the narrators have practised their habit of localising events. The first copy is one from North Greenland, where the inlanders are meant to represent the fabulous inhabitants of the interior of Greenland; the second is one from Labrador, in which the native Indians of that country are plainly alluded to; and it is very remarkable that a third record of the same events has been received from South Greenland, in which the inlanders are represented as being identical with the ancient Scandinavian settlers in those parts of the country.

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


► Themes of the story

Trickster: Navaranak embodies the trickster archetype by deceitfully manipulating both groups, inciting hostility through her cunning and falsehoods.

Revenge and Justice: Following the inlanders’ attack, the coastal people seek retribution, culminating in a violent confrontation to avenge their slain kin.

Conflict with Authority: Navaranak’s actions challenge the existing harmony and social order between the two communities, resulting in chaos and upheaval.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


The inlanders and the coast-people in the beginning were friends. A servant-maid called Navaranak used to be sent out by the inlanders to the coast-people in order to fetch back matak (edible whale-skin), and in exchange brought them reindeer-tallow; but after a time she grew weary of this work, and resolved to free herself by making them enemies. For this purpose she told the inlanders that the coast-people were going to attack them, and to the coasters she asserted that the inlanders were making ready to invade them. At length she provoked the inlanders to such a degree that they resolved upon attacking the coast-people.

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They chose a time when they were well aware that the men had all gone out hunting; and, accompanied by Navaranak, fell upon the helpless women and children. In their fright some of the mothers killed their own children, but one woman who was pregnant fled down beneath the ledge; and when Navaranak was sent back by the inlanders to find her out, she promised her all she possessed not to betray her. Some also escaped by hiding themselves among the rocks, but all the rest were killed. When the men returned, those who were left alive ran down and told them what had happened; and on coming up from the beach to their houses and beholding all their dead, the men were almost desperate. When the time came for flensing and cutting up the whale, Navaranak did not arrive as usual; she seemed to have disappeared altogether. When summer had again come round, the men prepared a great many arrows, and set out for the interior to take revenge on the inlanders. On their way they called out, as was their wont, “Navaranak, come on; we have got matak for thee!” but no one appeared. Again they went on a good distance, and then repeatedly called out, “Navaranak,” &c. And this time she answered the summons, and went up to them. On noticing their arrows, she was about to take flight. Reassuring her, however, they told her she had no need to do that. When she had ventured quite close to them, they asked her where her countrymen were to be found, and she said, “Further away in the interior of the country!” but now they made her fast to a rope, and dragged her along with them until she perished. At length they arrived at a very large lake, where the tents of the inlanders were pitched all around, and they saw people going out and in. But they waited till all had entered the tents, and then they made their attack. Arrows came flying from both sides; but those of the inlanders soon grew fewer in number, and the coast-people remained all unwounded. When they had done with the men, they went inside, killing women and children; and having thus satisfied their revenge, returned to their homes.

On the island of Okak, in Labrador, this tale is told as follows:

At Kivalek, on the island of Okak, there once lived a great many people, among whom was an Indian woman named Javraganak. From her childhood she had been living with the coast-people, whose servant she was; but nevertheless she had always remained a stranger among them. One day when she was hungry, and longed for one of her Indian dishes, she said, “At Pangma my countrymen have plenty of tongues;” upon which an old man sneeringly replied, “I daresay thou hast many brothers and relatives away there; thou hadst better make them come over here,” — and at night she wandered away to give them warning. In those times hares were very abundant, and sometimes you might even hear them run about on the house-tops. One night when Javraganak had come with a great number of her countrymen, those within heard a murmuring sound outside, and the old man said, “Well, if that is not the hares again! They are very lively, it seems.” Besides him there was not a man at home; they were all out hunting. And so it happened that all the inhabitants were put to death by Javraganak’s Indian countrymen. Many of them sought refuge in a cave, where some were suffocated and others murdered. On their return the men found their wives and children all killed; but shortly afterwards they set out to kill the murderers. Among these men was an angakok, who made a road for them right through a mountain, and the countrymen of Javraganak were all destroyed. She, however, was not to be found, having gone to hide herself; but the men had great trust in their angakok. At last a man happened to call out, “How I wish that Javraganak would serve me again!” upon which she immediately appeared, looking very comfortable. But they soon all fell upon her, wound a cord around her body, and dragged her along the ground till she died. And in this way she was paid back for what she had done to them.


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The two brothers

Two brothers, living on opposite sides of a Greenland fiord, experience a supernatural tragedy when an otherworldly boat attacks the younger brother’s household, killing all inside. A surviving servant alerts the elder brother, who seeks vengeance with the help of a one-eyed stranger. Together, they confront mystical foes and avenge the slain, blending themes of supernatural folklore, revenge, and alliance against malevolent forces.

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


► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The story features an otherworldly boat manned by supernatural entities who attack the younger brother’s household, introducing elements of the mystical and unexplained.

Revenge and Justice: Following the tragic massacre, the elder brother seeks retribution for his slain family members, embodying the pursuit of justice against malevolent forces.

Guardian Figures: The elder brother encounters a one-eyed stranger who assists him in confronting and overcoming the mystical adversaries, acting as a mentor or protector in his quest.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


This tale is compiled from four manuscripts which differ somewhat.

Two brothers lived in the mouth of a fiord — the elder one on the sunny side, the other on the shady side of the inlet. One night the servant of the younger brother happening to go behind the house suddenly perceived something bright glittering out on the sea, and at the same time detected a boat that seemed to grow in size as it approached; on looking sharply she was horrified at recognising it to be an umiariak (or supernatural boat manned with fabulous beings). She wanted to run, but was not able to stir; she tried to call out, but found that she could not utter a sound, and so she must needs keep quiet. The next thing she saw was a number of people landing, all carrying glittering swords, and walking straight up to the tent, and sticking their spears through it from all sides.

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Loud cries were heard from within, and the foreigners rushed down to their boat. She saw the water foaming, and a multitude of seals moving out seawards. She was not able to rise till they were quite out of sight; then she got up and went to the tent, where she found all the inmates killed, and the earth covered with blood. Although it was still dark, she could not possibly wait, but set off at once, and wandered ever so far round the whole bay to reach the opposite shore, where the other brother lived, and having reached his tent she told him what had taken place, and that all her housemates had been put to death. But somehow he got suspicious, and believed that she herself had killed them. Seeing this, she merely said, “First go and look for thyself, and afterward thou mayst kill me if thou likest.” He now went across to his brother’s station, and when he had seen the tent pierced from all sides he was reassured with regard to the servant, and only thought of finding out the enemies. He bespoke an angakok to come and see him, that he might point them out to him. At night, when the angakok had arrived, the lamps were extinguished, and he spoke, “Look there; far away in the interior of the land, I espy them.” When he could no longer descry them he again had the lamps lighted. On the following day the surviving brother paddled up to the fiord head, left his kayak on the beach, and walked, only armed with his spear, to the interior. After a long ramble he at length discovered a house, and stealing to the window he peeped through it, and beheld a man with only one eye sitting down, and busily carving some implement out of wood. On turning round, the man caught sight of the stranger, and at once invited him to come in. Having entered the house, he went and sat down beside the man with one eye, who, however, motioned him off a little, saying, “Don’t sit quite so close to me; I might happen to cut thee.” When the guest had complied, and moved farther away, he went on, saying, “Let refreshment be brought in for the stranger.” A loud peal of laughter was then heard, and from beneath the ledge emerged a lot of narrayoot (plural of narrajok, big-bellied), these being the only womankind of his household. They went out, returning soon afterwards with great quantities of meat, chiefly reindeer flesh and tallow. The host now said to him, “Tomorrow I will go with thee and help thee to find out thy enemies, but now thou must lie down to rest here; thou hast nothing to fear.” On the following day the one-eyed man prepared to follow him, taking with him a large bunch of arrows, fitted up in a skin cover. Having advanced somewhat into the country, he walked so quickly that his companion could hardly keep up with him. At length he stopped, and putting his arrows on the ground, he said, “Turn thy face towards the interior and give a shout.” Without knowing the reason why, he turned his face towards the interior part of the country, and cried out aloud, upon which three large bears instantly appeared. The one-eyed man aimed his bow at them and killed them all. Again he said, “Turn round and call as before!” This done, a multitude of people appeared, armed with bows and arrows. He was dreadfully frightened; but his companion, seeing this, said, “Go and hide behind me; but mind, as soon as thou puttest forth thy head they’ll shoot thee.” Having thus sheltered himself behind his protector, though all the time trembling with fear, he soon observed the arrows to be flying about him right and left; but after a while they decreased in number, and finally abated altogether. The enemies having discharged all their arrows had taken flight. The one-eyed man then took up his bow, and the still revengeful brother his spear, and both set off in pursuit of them, overtaking and killing the whole of them. On the way home the inlander noticed his companion’s weapon, questioned him concerning it, as he had never seen the like before, and told him he would like very much to purchase it; and because of his handsome behaviour he had his wish. On their return they went together to his storehouse, and he was repaid with the renowned sea-hare skin, (viz., white reindeer skins with black streaks), and one of the little women was called to take them down. She put the bundle on her stomach, and ran so fast with it that the visitor could not keep pace with her. On his reaching home, he found them put on the roof of his house, and from that time his mind was at rest.

This rather mystical tale is in Greenland related in different ways. It seems to have originated from some historical tradition mixed up with the common belief that when seals are chased and killed in too great numbers, the surviving ones will often avenge themselves in the shape of umiarissat (plural of umiariak) — that is, armed people in a boat fashioned out of a solid piece of ice. In one of the versions the inlanders here mentioned are called erkileks, in another “the men who twinkle lengthwise,” which closely reminds one of the Indians called Loucheux or Squint-eyes, who up to the present day are one of the tribes most hostile to the Eskimo, and described as being able to make themselves proof against the arrows of their enemies by means of a certain movement of their eyes.


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Kunuk the orphan boy

This tale seems to have its origin in historical facts, worked into a tale at a later period. Some parts of it allude to the struggles with the Indians, and the sudden attacks made by them on the Eskimo. Others most probably refer to the wars between the Eskimo tribes themselves, and to their distant migrations, by which they have peopled their wide territories. Several passages of this story are still frequently mixed up in different ways with other tales. The text has been constructed from three copies, in most particulars agreeing with each other.

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


► Themes of the story

Conflict with Authority: The narrative depicts the boys’ warnings being dismissed by the adults, highlighting a struggle against dismissive or unbelieving authority figures.

Trials and Tribulations: Kunuk and his brother face significant challenges, including the invasion of their home and the loss of their sister, testing their resilience and resourcefulness.

Revenge and Justice: The story may involve elements of seeking retribution or restoring order following the attack, reflecting themes of justice.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Several men had their permanent winter-quarters near the entrance to a fiord, and with them lived two boys, who were very officious and obliging. In the morning, when the men prepared to go out hunting, the boys helped to turn and rub their gloves, and made them ready for use, and likewise arranged the kayak implements and tools, and fetched the water for their morning drink. When the men had left, the boys exercised themselves in archery, and never entered the house the whole day long, until the men had returned, and they had assisted them in carrying their things from the beach. They did not even think of entering and partaking of their first meal till the last of the men had gone in, and they had once more fetched water.

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One evening in winter, by moonlight, when they had gone out to draw water, the youngest said, “I think I see a lot of faces down in the water;” and Kunuk, the elder brother, replied, “Is it not the reflection of the moon?” “No, come and look for thyself;” and Kunuk looked into the water, and said, “Thou art right, they are getting at us;” and presently he observed in the water (viz., by way of clairvoyance) a host of armed men advancing towards them. The boys now ran as fast as possible and told everything to the people at home, but they only answered, “It must have been the moon that deceived you. Never mind, but run away and fetch us some water; the tub is empty.” Off they went, but saw the same things over again, and went back to report it; but still they were not believed. But when they saw the armed men the third time advancing quickly towards them, they deliberated what to do with their little sister; and when they had determined to go and hide her, they entered the house and brought her outside; and seeing a heap of chips close to the window, they put her down, and covered her well up with them. Having done this, they went back and climbed the rafters beneath the roof of the house-passage; and in helping his brother to get up, Kunuk warned him not to get tired though he might find it an inconvenient place of refuge: they were keeping hold of one beam with their hands, and supported their feet against the next, and thus lay at full length, with their faces turned downwards. Presently a large man with a spear made his way through the entrance; after him another one appeared; and all told, they counted seven, who came rushing into the house. But as soon as they got inside a fearful cry was heard from those who were put to death by them. While they were still lingering inside Kunuk’s brother was losing strength, and was nearly giving way, when the aggressors came storming out, fighting about, right and left, and flinging their spears everywhere, and likewise into the heap of chips, where their little sister was lying. When the last of them had disappeared the younger boy fell to the ground, and Kunuk after him. When they came to look for their sister they found her struck right through the body with a lance, and with her entrails protruding; and on entering the house the floor was all covered with blood, every one of the inmates having been killed, besides one of the assailants. Being quite alone in the dreary house they would not stay, but left the place that very night, carrying their wounded sister by turns, and taking care that the entrails did not come out of their proper place. They wandered on for a long while in this manner, and at length they arrived at a firth, which was quite frozen over. There they went down on the ice, but on turning round a steep promontory their little sister died, and they buried her in a cave among the rocks. From the beginning of their flight they exercised themselves in boxing and in lifting large stones to strengthen their limbs; and they grew on, and had become strong and vigorous men ere they again met with other people. After a great lapse of time they one day noticed a man standing on the ice beside a huge piece of wood, which he had made use of in hunting the small seals. When they approached and told him what had befallen them, he said he would like to adopt them as his sons, and they followed him to a house where he and his wife lived all by themselves. Their foster-parents encouraged them never to forget their enemies, but always to be exercising themselves in order to strengthen their limbs. One night the brothers came home laden with ptarmigan and foxes, which they had caught without any weapons at all, only by throwing large stones at them, which made the old people rejoice very much, commending their dexterity and perseverance. To increase their strength still farther, they lifted very large stones with their hands only. They also practised boxing and wrestling; and no matter how hard the one might be pressing on the other, they made a point of never falling, but rolling together along the ground. At last, with constant practice, they had grown so dexterous that they could even kill a bear without any weapon. At first they gave him a blow, and when he turned upon them they took no more notice of him than if he had been a hare, but merely took hold of him by the legs and smashed him to pieces. When these results had been gained, they began to think of seeking out other people. Where? That was a matter of indifference. They now took a northerly direction, and wandered on a long way without falling in with any human being. At length they came to a great inlet of the sea, where a number of kayakers were out seal-hunting, but only one of them seemed to be provided with weapons. This one was their chief, or the “strong man” among them. He always wanted to harpoon the animals himself which had been hunted by the others — these had only to chase and frighten them; and if anybody dared to wound them, he was sure to be punished by the chief in person; but as soon as the “strong man” had pierced them with his arrow, the others all helped to kill them. Kunuk and his brother were too modest to go down at once, and awaited the approach of evening. Meanwhile they witnessed the cutting up of a walrus, and saw it being divided — each person getting a huge piece for himself, excepting an old man, who lived in the poorest tent, who got nothing but the entrails, which his two daughters helped him to carry home from the beach. The brothers agreed that they would go to the old man when it had grown dark, because they had taken pity on him on account of his patience. Having arrived at the tent, Kunuk had to enter by himself, his brother being too bashful to follow him. The old man now inquired of him, “Art thou alone?” “No, my little brother is standing outside; he is ashamed to enter.” On hearing this, the old man cried, “Come in, thou who art standing outside;” and when he entered, he was astonished to see his strong limbs, he being even bigger than his brother. When the meal was over the old man said he would like to have them for his sons-in-law, and that they might go and take his daughters for their wives. Kunuk chose the youngest of them, and his brother got the eldest; and thus they got married. It is said that while going down to the place, they first went to have a look at the boats, and examined them closely; and that on seeing the weapons of the “strong man,” they had taken his javelin (or arrow to be flung only by hand) away, with the intention of hiding it, so that the others might get something to look for. They brought it away to a spring, and a little way off they stuck it down into the earth, but pulled it out again, trying another place, where the turf was dry and hard. There Kunuk fixed it so deep in the ground that only so much of it as could be seized with two fingers was to be seen. While they were lying down inside the tent, they heard some one come running along, and partly lift the curtain, but instantly drop it and go off again. It was an old gossip, and mother to the “strong man,” who had been doing this; and a moment later a multitude of people gathered round the entrance of the tent, to get a peep at the strangers. In the morning they heard the chief crying out, “This is a fine day for a walrus-hunt;” upon which he was silent a while, and then said, “My javelin has been taken away,” which was repeated again and again by many others. When Kunuk emerged from the tent he saw several of the men coming out rubbing their eyes, and saying, “I must surely have slept too long!” However, it was only out of reverence for the “strong man” that they spoke thus. While they were shouting, they heard the old gossip, who had been away to fetch water, exclaim, “Look, yonder is the javelin!” and at the same time she pointed to the rock leading to the spring. All of them now rushed to the spot, in order to pull it out of the earth, but nobody succeeded in doing it. The brothers were now called, and were asked to draw it out. They had all been pulling and biting it with their teeth to get it loose, so that the end had been quite wasted. But Kunuk just took it between his two fingers, and disengaged it as if it were a very small matter. On their way down to the shore their father-in-law addressed them, and said, “Down there, underneath the great boat, are the two kayaks of my dead son. They are perfectly fitted up, and furnished with weapons, and are quite easy to get at.” These things he now wanted to make over to his sons-in-law, and he told them that the “strong man” had murdered his son because he envied him his still greater strength; for this reason he was now the enemy of his daughters. Hitherto, however, they had not been able to get their revenge. After a short interval the cry was heard, “Let the strangers come on for a boxing and fighting match on the great plain up yonder;” upon which all the men made thither to behold the spectacle. The brothers followed them; and arriving at the place, they saw a pole set up on end, and beside it the leader standing with a whip made of walrus-skin, with a knot on the end. There was also a stuffed white hare, and whenever anybody set foot on it, he quickly lashed them with the whip. Kunuk was the first who advanced towards the hare, and the chief tried to hit him, but did not succeed in reaching him. Soon after, Kunuk courageously put his foot on the hare; but the very moment the “strong man” lifted up his whip Kunuk stooped down and hardened his limbs (by charm), and when the other smote him the whip gave a loud crack. The “strong man” now believed that he had killed Kunuk, who nevertheless came away unhurt. When the crack of the thong was heard, the “strong man” ordered the younger brother to step forward. He, however, cared less than Kunuk: and after the first attempt the chief proposed that he should take the whip for a change; and giving it to him, he went himself and put his foot on the hare. Kunuk’s brother now cried, “Look out and harden thy body!” but at the same time smote him, so that he fell down dead on the spot. All his inferiors now rejoiced greatly, and called out to the brothers, “Henceforth ye shall be our leaders!” but they rejoined, “In future ye shall have no masters, but hunt at liberty and at your own will.” The brothers now practised all manner of feats belonging to kayaking and seal-hunting, and procured themselves bladder-arrows [small harpoons with a bladder attached to the shaft, but without any line, and principally used for small animals] — the bladders being made out of one entire blown-up seal-skin. One day they joined some other kayakers, and went in pursuit of a very large she-walrus. Kunuk lanced it four times at a greater distance than usual, and his arrow went right through the animal, which, panting for breath, after a minute or two was quite dead. When the others came on to give it the finishing stroke, they found that the arrow had penetrated to the very vent-holes of the bladder; and they all rejoiced at his great dexterity, and praised it highly. Ordinary seals even grew quite stiff when his spear merely grazed them. He once heard a report of a very giant, who lived southward, and was named Ungilagtake [pron. Unghilagtakee]. He had a huge sword, and nobody was ever known to escape him; even the most valiant of men were vanquished and put to death by him. On hearing this, the brothers immediately supposed him to have been among the strong armed men who attacked their housemates at home, when they themselves were still little children; and they at once determined to go and find him out, knowing that they were now more capable of revenging themselves than they had been at that time. They left the place in two boats, one of which belonged to the youngest; in this the mother of the “strong man” who had been killed accompanied him. The other boat was Kunuk’s, and many kayaks went along with them to make war against Ungilagtake. A pretty strong breeze from the north had sprung up, and the boats hoisted their sails, and the kayak-men amused themselves with throwing their harpoons alongside the boats. It so happened that Kunuk, in flinging the harpoon, hit the prow of the boat, so that it rebounded into the water with a great splash. On seeing this, the old hag chuckled, and went on mocking and teasing the wife of Kunuk till she could not help crying; and Kunuk asked his brother, who was in command of the boat, “Why is my wife crying?” “Oh, that’s on account of the arrow,” he answered; “she is so mortified because the old woman laughed at thee.” Kunuk now purposely dropped astern a little, and holding his harpoon ready, suddenly pushed forward, and flung it across the boat, so that it hit the hood of the old woman’s fur coat, while she sat rowing in the fore-end of the boat, even tearing a piece out of it; and this trick he repeated once more. After a while, Kunuk’s brother turned his looks towards land, and recognised the burial-place of their little sister. This made him very sad, and he asked for some one to relieve him at the helm, he wanting to go and sit down forward, where, bent down, he went on sobbing, and vainly striving to keep back his tears, while the water from the sea came into the boat, which kept swinging and tossing from his convulsions. He took ill from that very day, and died before they reached their destination, so that Kunuk came alone to Ungilagtake. It was in the depth of winter, and they were met by many people on the ice. A somewhat biggish man invited them to come and put up at his house. This man likewise happened to be an enemy of Ungilagtake; and as soon as the guests had entered, he told them that before the meal he would show them how Ungilagtake used to behave to strangers. He took an entire seal-skin, stuffed with sand, and to the centre of which a strap was attached. Into this he put his third finger, and carried it round the room, after which he ordered his guest to do the same. Kunuk took hold of the strap with his little finger, lifted the thing with unbent arm, and put it down without being fatigued. The host then went on, “Now sit down opposite to me, and I will throw a lance at thee, which, however, won’t hurt thee;” upon which he brought out a lance and a drum, and began singing, while Kunuk heard the others saying, “Bend thee down, stranger!” Kunuk at once complied, so that nothing but his chin was visible; and when his host threw the lance at him, he lost his aim, merely observing, “This is the way of Ungilagtake, who always hits the mark, and never fails. Yet I don’t know how thou wilt fare with him; he will hardly be able to molest thee. But then he has a companion, called Tajangiarsuk, with a double back, being as fat in front as behind, who is immensely strong, and gives him a hand if there happen to be any one he cannot master.” Whilst they were sitting down at the meal a cry was heard without, “Ungilagtake invites the stranger to his house!” When Kunuk and his wife were preparing to go, the host said, “Now make a bold entrance, or he will be sure to kill thee at once.” The visitors now went up to a large house with three windows, which was occupied with Ungilagtake’s numerous wives — all of whom he had stolen. Kunuk was ordered to sit down on the side bench, but his wife was brought to a seat on the main ledge, and their former host placed himself opposite her husband. Many other spectators now entered; but whenever a new visitor made his appearance, Kunuk asked his first host if that were Tajangiarsuk, until at last he too arrived. Refreshments, consisting of various dishes, were now served before them; and when they had finished eating, Ungilagtake ordered Kunuk to seat himself opposite to him, and presently drew out a huge spear from beneath the bench, and striking upon the drum, which had likewise been produced, the whole joined in a song for Kunuk, at the same time crying out, “Bend thee down, stranger that has come among us; the great Ungilagtake, who never missed his aim, is going to thrust his spear at thee.” He bent down as before, so that only his chin appeared; but whilst Ungilagtake was taking aim at him, he nimbly gave a jump, and caught hold of one of the roof-beams, while the spear went far below him; and when it was flung at him the second time, he quickly jumped down, and the spear came flying above him, amid great cheers from the spectators. When Ungilagtake was about to take aim the third time, Kunuk seized the spear, saying that he, too, would like to have a try at killing with it. They now exchanged places. Kunuk, beating the drum, now struck up a song for Ungilaktake; but the very moment the latter was preparing to bend his back, Kunuk had already taken aim at him, and the spear hit him in the throat, so that he fell dead on the spot. Everybody now rushed out of the house, and Kunuk was following, but soon found himself seized from behind by some one, who proved to be Tajangiarsuk. A wrestling-match soon ensued on a plain of ice, covered with many projecting stones, which he had chosen on purpose, in order to finish off his adversaries by dashing them against the stones. Kunuk felt a little irresolute when he noticed that he had found his equal. However, he took hold of him, and tried to lift him up before he got tired out. He flung him down on the ground, so that the blood gushed out of his mouth. Another champion soon made his appearance, who was of a still stronger and larger make; and he soon got Kunuk down, and had already put his knee on the heart of Kunuk, when the latter suddenly took hold of him from beneath, grasped his shoulders, and pressed the lungs out of him. The applause of the spectators was again heard, while some of them were crying, “Now they are bringing the last of the lot, him with the lame legs;” and soon after three boats were seen to carry this champion thither, for he was not like ordinary men, but of an immense size, so that he was obliged to lie across all three boats to get along. Having reached the landing-place, he crept up to the combat-field on his elbows. When Kunuk tried to throw him, his legs never moved an inch; but when he proceeded to lift him up by taking hold of him round the waist, and began to whirl him round, he gradually succeeded in lifting also his feet; and when they at last turned right outwards, to let him fall in such a way that his skull was crushed. The people rejoiced, and cried, “Thanks to thee! now we shall have no masters!” and those who had been robbed of their wives got them back again.


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Katerparsuk

Katerparsuk, a poor orphan, faced ridicule and hardship but persevered to build his own kayak with primitive tools. Bullied by a cruel man disguised as a bear, he sought revenge by mastering magic and hunting skills. Transforming into a walrus, he cleverly humiliated his tormentor, reclaiming his pride and settling the score. His resilience turned adversity into triumph, showcasing the power of determination and ingenuity.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: Katerparsuk’s journey from a ridiculed orphan to a skilled hunter, including his magical transformation into a walrus, highlights significant physical and personal changes.

Revenge and Justice: After being tormented by a man disguised as a bear, Katerparsuk seeks and achieves retribution, restoring his dignity and sense of justice.

Cunning and Deception: Katerparsuk employs cleverness and magical deception, particularly when he transforms into a walrus, to outsmart and humiliate his tormentor.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


This is also very commonly known all over Greenland, and the subjoined version is constructed from five manuscripts.

Katerparsuk was a poor orphan boy. When he grew up he was anxious to get on in the world, because nobody wanted to take care of him and help him along. At length he resolved, by his own efforts, to try to make himself a kayak; but, nobody being willing to lend him a knife, he first tried to work with stone tools, and later on with shells. In the same place there happened to live a wicked man, who, instead of pitying the poor boy, took delight in annoying and terrifying him. For this purpose he disguised himself in a bearskin, and stole up behind Katerparsuk, growling like a bear. On turning round and perceiving him, Katerparsuk flung down his work and tools in consternation, and ran away. When the other house-fellows came to the spot and saw his implements of shells and stones, they were quite moved at the sight.

► Continue reading…

Meanwhile the wicked man came forward and said to Katerparsuk, “Instead of pitying thee I scorned thee; because thou, silly boy, couldst ever think of making a kayak all by thyself: and that was why I frightened thee in a bear-skin.” On hearing this, his housemates broke out into a fit of laughter at the poor boy’s embarrassment; but he grew mortally vexed, and only thought of revenge and resentment. Subsequently he betook himself to solitary places, and studied angakok science. After a long time he finished his kayak, and exercised himself in rowing and hunting, and shortly afterwards he was even able to hunt seals. Having once, from the top of a hill, seen a walrus dive, he thought, “Oh that I could make him throw off his skin!” He began to sing a magic lay, but without any result. Very much dissatisfied, he went home, but did not rest till he had got up an incantation that would suit his purpose. He tried the effect of it on a hare, and as it proved successful, he more than ever contemplated revenge. One day, when all the hunters were away in their kayaks, he likewise betook himself to his oar, and rowed out to a remote place. There he landed, and having ascended a very high hill, whence he had a view of the sea, he detected a great many walrus diving up and down. He began to sing his magic lay to one of them, which soon approached the beach right below him; he continued singing louder and louder until the animal at last threw off his skin. Katerparsuk at once crept into it, and began to try swimming and diving, and when the kayakers approached, he knew how to harden his skin so that the harpoon could not pierce it. Meanwhile the wicked man had grown old and decrepit, and had given up seal-hunting; he now only went out fishing. Once Katerparsuk put on his walrus-skin and emerged from the water close to the place where the old man was fishing. He then heard him exclaim, “Oh that I were young again, what a catch I might have had!” Meantime he returned home, collected all his hunting implements, which he had not been using for a long time, and took them out with him to his fishing-place the next day. “Oh, look! there he is again!” the old man exclaimed, upon which he paddled towards him: but Katerparsuk hardened his skin, and made it tough; and seizing the point of the harpoon, pulled it down into the water along with the hunting-bladder, from which he took away the stopper, so that the air escaped, and then he hurried home in his kayak. But the old man was vexed that he had lost his bladder-float; and at home he said, boasting, “I have again commenced to go out hunting; today I pursued a large walrus, but he escaped me, and took my bladder-float along with him.” Katerparsuk let him chat on, but in the evening he invited all the men to come and have a feast with him, and the old man was of the party. After the meal he once more began to talk of his chase and of the loss he had sustained. Before their arrival, Katerparsuk had hung up the bladder-float along with the harpoon-line on a peg in the wall; and while the old man was prating, he pointed to them, saying, “Look, there are all thy hunting tools, and thou canst take them away with thee when thou goest home.” And the old man looked quite abashed, and left the party in a somewhat confused state. It is said that the resentment of Katerparsuk was somewhat appeased by the fun he had had in playing walrus to the man who had been playing bear to him.


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Juan T’ul

Juan T’ul, a clever rabbit, repeatedly tricks Ocelot in a tale of mischief and revenge. After angering a neighbor and escaping punishment, Juan deceives Ocelot into enduring castration, holding up the sky, and getting stuck on a magical vine. In their final encounter, Juan sets Ocelot ablaze after luring him into carrying hay. The cunning rabbit survives unscathed, outsmarting his foes at every turn.

Source
Ethnology of the Mayas of
Southern and Central British Honduras
by John Eric Thompson
Field Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Series, Pub.274, Vol.17.2
Chicago, 1930


► Themes of the story

Trickster: Juan T’ul embodies the archetypal trickster, using his wit to deceive others, particularly Ocelot, leading to various humorous and cunning escapades.

Revenge and Justice: A cycle of retribution unfolds as characters seek to avenge wrongdoings, illustrating the consequences of actions and the pursuit of justice.

Trials and Tribulations: Both Juan and Ocelot face a series of challenges and obstacles, reflecting the enduring struggle and resilience required to navigate adversities.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Maya people


Juan T’ul (John Rabbit) was very fond of watermelons. A neighbor of his had a very fine patch at which he used to regale himself. The owner of the patch suspected that it was Juan T’ul who used to steal the fruit. Accordingly he lay in wait, and pounced down on him, just as Juan was preparing to grab a particularly fine watermelon. Juan managed to wriggle free, but he was thoroughly incensed with the man, and determined at the first opportunity to get his own back. A few days later he presented himself at the house of the neighbor, requesting the loan of a lighted log, with which to start his fire. By means of a trick he violated the daughters of the man.

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Some time later the man learnt of what had happened, and determined to have his revenge on the rabbit. An opportunity was not long in presenting itself, and he managed to catch Juan T’ul. He shut him up in a cage, informing him that he was going to castrate him. Juan was left in the cage, while the man went off to heat up a piece of iron for the operation. A few minutes later the ocelot loped up.

“Hello, Juan,” he cried. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just waiting for a cup of hot chocolate this man is preparing for me,” replied Juan. “Will you take my place? I’d like very much to drink the chocolate, for I know what good chocolate he makes, but I’ve got an important engagement in a few minutes, and I really can’t wait.”

Just at that moment the man, who was heating the iron inside the house, called out to Juan, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Juan, but it isn’t hot enough yet, but don’t worry, it will be just right in a few minutes.”

Juan turned to the ocelot and said, “There, do you see what a considerate man he is. He won’t bring out the chocolate till he is sure it is just perfect. Just open the door and take my place and tell the man you are waiting for the chocolate in my place, as I have an important engagement.” Now if there was one thing the ocelot enjoyed it was a good cup of hot chocolate; so unbarring the door of the cage, he let Juan out and took his place. Juan hopped off without waiting to see what would happen. A few minutes later the iron was red-hot, and the man sent out his son to bring in Juan T’ul. When the son saw that Juan had disappeared and that his place had been taken by the ocelot, he told his father. The man was still in such a towering rage that he was determined to have revenge on someone, even if it could not be Juan.

“Bring him in, whoever it is,” he cried. “I’ll teach him to try and play his tricks on me.”

The ocelot was brought in, and the man, taking the hot iron, castrated him. The ocelot was sent on his way with a parting kick. Ocelot walked off, feeling very sorry for himself. As he was slinking along, an owl hooted at him, mocking him with the words, “What have you done with your testicles?” Ocelot swore a mighty oath to be revenged on Juan T’ul, but Juan always took good care to be out of his way. Ocelot was always on the lookout for Juan, and one day he met him in a cave. Juan T’ul had no time to escape, but as soon as he saw Ocelot coming toward him, he reached up with his front paws, and began to push against the roof of the cave. Ocelot came forward, crying out, “Now I’ve caught you at last! You are going to die this time.”

“But you can’t kill me at present,” replied Juan. “Don’t you see that I am holding up the roof of the world? If I let go now, the sky will fall down, and the whole world will be destroyed.”

Ocelot was very much impressed, for he was very simple, and debated with himself as to what he should do to Juan without causing the sky to fall on top of them. After a minute or two, Juan piped up, “Ocelot, be a good fellow, will you? Take my place for a minute. I must relieve myself, and, as you know, if I let go for a single second, the roof of the world will come down on us.”

Ocelot agreed to take his place for a minute or two. As soon as the exchange had been made, Juan hopped off as fast as he could. Ocelot called after him, asking him where he was going. Juan with a chuckle replied, “I’ve fooled you again. Now you will have to hold up the world till you can find someone else to take your place.”

After he had been holding up the roof for some time, Ocelot began to feel tired. At last when he could hold no longer, he let go one paw with great trepidation. Nothing happened. Then very gently he began to ease off the pressure he was exerting with the other paw. Nothing happened. The sky did not fall down as he had expected, and it gradually dawned on him that Juan had again got the better of him.

Some time later Ocelot ran into Juan T’ul again. This time Juan was amusing himself by swinging on a long elastic-like liana (stakami). As he swung on it, the liana would shoot up into the sky every time he said, “Shrink!” Every time he cried, “Stretch!” the liana would bring him back to earth. When the ocelot saw Juan, he gave a cry of triumph, for he thought that at last he had him in his power.

“This is great fun,” cried Juan. “Why don’t you have a shot at it?”

“I will,” replied Ocelot, “as soon as I have finished with you.” “Well, in that case you won’t be able to,” answered Juan, “for if I once let go, the liana will shoot up into the air, and you won’t be able to reach it again. Have some fun with it first of all, and then you can do what you like with me.”

Ocelot thought this was a good idea. Next time Juan T’ul swung earthward, Ocelot caught hold of the liana, and crying, “Shrink, shrink!” was carried high up into the air. Meanwhile Juan had hopped off as quick as he could. When Ocelot tried to come down to earth again, he could not remember the word to make the liana stretch. He thought and thought, but it was of no avail. In the end he had to let himself drop from where he was high up in the air, and falling to earth, was badly bruised.

The next time Ocelot fell in with Juan, he found him busily engaged in collecting hay.

“Hello,” said Juan. “I’ve got a fine offer for this hay in the village. Why don’t you help me? And we will divide the profits. I am small and can’t carry much at a time, but you have a big strong back, and could carry a heavy load.” Ocelot agreed, and as soon as they had cut a good quantity of hay, Juan piled it on Ocelot’s back, tying it securely with a strong cord. Then before Ocelot realized what was happening, he set fire to the dry grass. The grass blazed up, and Ocelot was burnt to death. After that Juan T’ul lived in peace.


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