Reindeer-Born

A young herdsman discovers a mysterious infant, Reindeer-Born, born from a reindeer-doe. The child grows rapidly but secretly devours the herd. When accused, the family dismisses the young man’s warnings. Fleeing in fear, he encounters a cannibalistic woman. She reforms her ways to marry him, but he remains homesick, longing for his family, despite the new life he builds.

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

► Themes of the story

Conflict with Nature: The herdsman’s struggle against the mysterious forces threatening his reindeer herd represents a direct conflict with natural elements.

Family Dynamics: The tension between the herdsman and his family, especially their dismissal of his warnings, underscores complex familial relationships.

Loss and Renewal: The destruction of the herd and the herdsman’s subsequent journey leading to a new life with the reformed woman illustrate cycles of loss and new beginnings.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzy woman, in the village of Markova on the Anadyr River, December, 1905.

There lived a man who had one son. This son was all the time with the reindeer-herd. One time he came to the herd and saw that one reindeer had an abscess on her ear. The night passed. The next morning he went to his father and said, “O father! a doe of ours has a very strange abscess on her ear. It is better that we kill her.” The father said, “How foolishly you talk! Let her be!” The next evening he saw that the reindeer was lying on the ground. The third evening he came, he heard a small infant crying. It was Reindeer-Born. He sped home. “O father! I told you we had better kill her. Now a little infant is crying there, Reindeer-Born.” The father scolded him: “Go and bring it here!” The infant was so heavy, he was hardly able to carry it home. “Now you may nurse it, if you want to.” In three days the infant walked and grew to be a boy. On the fourth day the boy wanted to go to the reindeer-herd. The young man did not want to take him. Then the father blamed him. “You must take him for an assistant herdsman.”

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He took him along when going to the herd. Then the boy said, “You watch the herd on this side, and I will watch it on that side.” As soon as evening came, the boy said, “Oh, let my mouth open!” and his mouth opened; “O reindeer! enter my mouth,” and the reindeer entered his mouth. The next morning several reindeer were missing. The brother asked, “What has happened to those reindeer?” The boy said, “Wolves have attacked them and driven them away.” — “Then why are no traces of wolves to be seen on the snow?”

They came home. The young man said again, “Let us kill him! He will destroy the whole herd.” The father blamed him. “It is because you are a bad herdsman, that the wolves come and destroy our reindeer.” They went again toward the herd. The boy said, “Let me watch on this end, and you on that!” As soon as evening came, the boy said, “Oh, you, my mouth, open!” and the mouth opened; “Oh, you, reindeer, enter my mouth!” and they entered.

The next morning the young man asked again, “What has happened to those reindeer?” The boy said, as before, “The wolves came and drove them away.” — “Then why are no wolves’ tracks to be seen on the snow? I think that you ate them yourself.” They came home. The young man said to his parents, “I told you before that he destroys the herd. Now I shall leave you and go away. Otherwise he will eat me also.” He ran away, and kept running throughout the night. In the morning he walked on more slowly. After a while he saw a house. Near that house, upon the supports, carcasses of men were hanging, fastened there by the hair. A woman came out and called with great joy, “Oh, oh! a man, a guest!” She sprang to the support and drew down one human carcass. “What are you going to do with it?” — “I am going to cook it for you.” — “Oh, horrors! we do not eat food like that!” She bounced off, and in a few moments brought to the house a large reindeer-herd. She slaughtered one reindeer, which was very fat. Then she took the carcass into the house. “Take care!” said the man, “do not cook this clean food in that kettle of yours!” She threw the kettle away, and took another one, which was quite new. Then he ate. Night came: they were going to sleep. The woman said, “I wish you would marry me!” He answered, “When you cease to feed on things like these, then I will marry you.” — “All right!” said the woman, “marry me, and I will eat and drink as you may order.” So he married her and copulated with her. Every day she would go out. The next morning, when she left, he began to cry bitterly. In the evening she asked, “What is the reason that you cried so bitterly after I left?” — “The stunted willow whipped me,” said the young man. Oh, the woman sprang out of the house, and beat at the bushes with an iron pan-shovel. “How dared you to whip my husband?” — “We did nothing,” said the bushes. He cried when thinking of his father and mother.

[The tale was left unfinished. The narrator knew no more.]

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The monster-woman

A weary hunter encounters a grotesque, one-eyed woman with a monstrous mouth in an underground dwelling. Sensing her predatory nature, he cleverly uses stones to disable her dangerous teeth, rendering her sexually harmless. After neutralizing her threat, he takes her home as a house-slave, transforming a potentially deadly encounter into a strategic survival and subjugation scenario.

► Themes of the story

Transformation: The woman undergoes a physical change when the hunter removes her teeth, rendering her harmless and altering her nature.

Cunning and Deception: The hunter employs clever tactics to deceive the monster-woman and protect himself from harm.

Conflict with Nature: The hunter faces a struggle against a natural force embodied in the monstrous woman, representing a confrontation with a dangerous aspect of the natural world.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Told by Enmu’wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, in the village Uni’sak, at Indian Point, May, 1901

A man who had a wife went to hunt wild reindeer. He walked around all day, and could not find anything. Evening came. He felt cold. His house was too far away. So he thought, “Where shall I find a suitable place for the night? There is no fuel, nor a human dwelling.” At last he saw traces of a sledge. He followed these. The trail became harder. A dog barked. He saw an underground house. A woman is cooking seal-meat over a lamp, — a strange-looking woman, with one eye in her forehead and her mouth quite big and all awry, still a stout person, with large breasts. She said, “All right! Till now I have not seen a man. Now I have found a husband.” He thinks, “Certainly, she is plump and full-breasted, but her face looks too strange. I will not marry her.”

They ate supper, then the lamp was put out. The woman moves toward him, he moves away. They reached the corner. “Sleep with me!” — “No, I refuse!” — “Yes, do sleep with me!”

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He listens. Something in her body is grinding its teeth like a dog. “I say, sleep with me!” — “No, I am tired. Let it be tomorrow morning.” — “Well! Then at least louse me.” She lighted the lamp again. He loused her, and made her sleep on his lap. He thinks, “What is it in her body that grinds its teeth like a dog? Let me have a look at it.” He looked, and saw that she had plenty of teeth there, as in a wolf’s mouth. “Oh, oh!” says he. He crept out noiselessly. The seashore was full of stones. He took two stones, long and round, of just the size of the membrum virile. Then he went back into the sleeping-room and fell asleep. In the morning she wakened him. “Oh, get up! Make me a wife! Copulate with me!” — “All right!” he says. One of the stones he put between his legs and thrust it into her vulva. Oh, it clashed and ground the teeth. He tore it out. Almost all the teeth were sticking in the stone. Then he used the other one, and drew it back, together with the membrane in which grew the roots of the teeth. Then her vulva became like any woman’s. “Well,” he said, now let us try!” He put his own membrum in there and copulated with her one time and another. She became quite peaceful. He took her home and made her a house-slave.

The visitor

A starving family seeking survival encounters a reindeer herd’s camp. After being initially welcomed, they are later displaced by a neighboring hunter. A running competition resolves their conflict, with the pedestrian winning decisively, ultimately leaving him alone in the wilderness.

► Themes of the story

Conflict with Nature: The family’s struggle against starvation and harsh environmental conditions.

Community and Isolation: The transition from being welcomed into a community to experiencing isolation.

Trials and Tribulations: The challenges faced by the family, including displacement and the running competition.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

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

Two men lived as neighbors in the same camp. One had a number of children. They remained for a long time in the country Ve’qan, but saw no wild reindeer there. They were without (food). They lived on a few stray ptarmigan, and were nearly starving. The Reindeer people from Ye’lkan did not come there this year for pasturage: so the whole autumn they had no “genuine food” (i.e., reindeer-meat). They suffered from hunger, and were starving. Then one of the men said to the other, “Let us go and look for other people! Where do they dwell?” They went afoot, because they had no dogs. The last one was eaten a long time ago. The one who had children, made a small covered sledge, and, together with his wife, they dragged it along. After a while both men said, “Let us separate! I will go to the right, and you go to the left.” So they separated. The one who had children went to the left, dragging his covered sledge. It was growing dark.

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He said to his wife, “Stay here and wait for me. I will go a little farther on.” He put his wife and children into the covered sledge, heaped snow around the sledge, so that they would be warm, then he went along. It grew quite dark. Then he saw a herd. It was very large, and spread around like water, — big-antlered bucks, spotted fawns. The herdsmen asked him, “Where do you come from?” — “We come from afar. We lived there quite alone, and were nearly starved because the Reindeer people had not come that way.” — “Oh, oh! you are alone?” — “No, I have a family. I left them behind. I put them in a covered sledge, and heaped snow around it so that they would be warm.” — “Ah, ah! So they will come tomorrow!” — “Oh, yes! I shall bring them myself, dragging the sledge. It is quite near.” — “Oh, well! let it be tomorrow. It is too dark to go now. As to the houses, they are also near. You would see them from here, like black dots under the snow-covered cliff, if it were not too dark now. So it is settled for the morning. Let us go, then, to the houses!” They came to the camp. An old man from the front house heard them coming. “Oh, oh! a guest! Where do you come from?” — “I come from afar. We lived in the country Ve’qan, and were nearly starved. So we started on foot to look for other people.” — “Ah, ah! You there, in the outer tent! cook intestines, cook fat meat! We will feed the new-comer.” They ate. “Have you any companions?” — “Yes, I did have. I left them behind in a covered sledge. I heaped snow around it, so that they would be warm.” — “Oh, well! It is too late now. Let it be tomorrow.” — “Yes, yes! I will bring them myself.” — “Nay, they shall be brought with a good driving-team.” In the morning he drove there with the reindeer of the old man. “Halloo!” No answer. “Halloo!” louder than before. Then the woman heard, and answered, “Halloo!” — “Are you alive?” — “Yes, we are; but the smallest one, the suckling, has died.” — “Oh, oh! What can we do!” They went to the camp. “There, there!” A sleeping-room is put up for them, and new bed-skins are spread on the floor. “This is your sleeping-room. You may live in it.” They remained in the camp. One day they went for a visit to a neighbor. The neighbor said to the new-comer, “Where do you live?” — “Where can I live? I live with those to whom I came first.” — “Well, of course, they took you in, but this will last only for a time. Then the old man will send you away.” — “Oh, oh! What am I to do?” — “Come over to me! You shall be my camp-assistant.” — “Oh, oh I how can I leave? What can I say to them? I came to their camp first.” — “Well, then, if you want me to, I will go there myself and take you and your family away.” — “All right! Do come! Or, still better, let us go directly there, and settle the affair at once!” They went to the camp. The old man said, “You have come back!” — “Oh, yes! but we are going to leave. This one has come to take us away!” — “So! But why did you not go to him in the beginning? You came to me first of all. All right! Go away! Begone! Hurry up!”

They left. A moon passed by, and a new moon rose. The neighbors came to settle the offence. They said, “Let us arrange a running-match! We will see then who is really the best man.” — “All right!” They arranged a running-match, and as a prize for the winner they set a fox-skin and a beaver-skin. They started. The poor one, the pedestrian, who for a long time had been used to going on foot, ran along quite lightly, hardly touching the ground with his feet. He ran and ran; and in a short time he outran all the others, and vanished from view. In due time he took the hill (as agreed upon), and then came back. But then the others were still out of sight, to such an extent did he outrun them all. He waited for them some time, but at last felt cold and entered the sleeping-room. At last they came far behind. All the people felt ashamed, because they were such poor runners. They had no desire to enter the sleeping-room; so they harnessed their reindeer, and attached them to the sledges. Then all the visitors left. The next morning the others also left. He was left quite alone, in the country.

The end.

Proverbs, riddles, sayings

The riddles contained in this section were collected among the River Chukchee living on the Middle Anadyr River. They probably arose under Russian influence. Some of them have even been translated from the Russian. On the whole, the Chukchee have no riddles. Of short productions of this kind, they have only a very few proverbs and brief sayings, some of which are given here, while others were published in my “Chukchee Materials.” They have also some so-called “comic tales,” and word-games, a few of which are given here.

► Themes of the story

Moral Lessons: Many proverbs convey ethical teachings or insights into human behavior.

Cunning and Deception: Some riddles and sayings involve wit or cleverness, highlighting the value of intelligence.

Conflict with Nature: The Chukchee’s close relationship with their environment is evident in references to animals and natural phenomena.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

Proverbs

1. Listening to a liar is like drinking warm water: one can get no satisfaction from it.
2. A desire to defecate is more imperious than any great officer.
3. Even a small mouse has anger.
4. My temper is as smooth as tallow.
5. He repented of it even to his very buttocks.
6. A small herd is like a short lasso.
7. To a lazy camp-assistant an old reindeer for slaughter (and food).

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Riddles

1. Once an old one with nine holes. — Man.
2. Once outside, it is coming down, down; it enters; it lies down. — An axe.
3. It enters from outside with clothes; it is undressed in the outer tent. — The alder tree [Alder-bark is peeled off and used for tanning-purposes.]
4. An old woman is made to break wind by an angry old man. — Bears copulating.
5. A grass-bound shoulder-blade — A ring on the finger [A bone of a reindeer or seal shoulder-blade bound around with grass is used in divination.]
6. I have four holes and only one road. — A wooden house [The River Chukchee live in wooden huts of simple construction. Each hut has a chimney, smoke-hole, and one window. These, with the entrance, make the four holes of the riddle.]
7. I move along – but without trace; I cut – but draw no blood. — A moving boat.
8. It is round, has an eye, is used by women. After use it is thrown away. — Iron scraper [The iron blade of the scraper is round with a hole in the centre.]
9. Its eye is poked by women; it gets angry, bites its lip, and ascends skyward. — The lamp [When the lamp burns badly, the woman pokes it (in the eye). Then when it is “angry” and still refuses to burn brightly, it is lifted up on the stand.]
10. I have a headache, my nose bleeds. Stop my nose bleeding! — Fly-agaric [The eating of fly-agaric causes, after the intoxication assuaged by a new dose of the same drug.]

Word-Games

1. I raced down from a hill-top and nearly fell down.
2. Right-hand double antler-blade reindeer-buck, left-hand double-blade reindeer-buck.
3. A dried scar left by a reindeer-halter, an instrument (hatchet) for working on sledge-runners, — such eyes had the little old man.
4. Like a she-dog with tufts of old hair on her ears, so was he in the foot-race.
5. A quite young woman, in running fast, caught her boot-strings on an excrescence of a tree-trunk, and, stumbling over a hummock, nearly struck her nose against the ground.

Short Comic Tales

1. Once the root of Polygonum viviparum scratched its head on the ice.
2. Once a great raven performed the thanksgiving ceremonial in a narrow house, and his tendons became cramped.
3. A little bird married the hole in the edge of a walrus-hide, and its penis was skinned.

Two shamans

Two shamans are defending their village against supernatural Re’kken attackers. Through magical confrontations involving spirits like Cough, Rheum, and mystical dogs, the shamans repel multiple supernatural threats. The tale culminates in a dramatic transformation of their dwelling and demonstrates the shamans’ powerful spiritual abilities against malevolent entities.

► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The shamans confront the Re’kken, malevolent entities threatening their village.

Conflict with Nature: The shamans face and overcome natural and supernatural forces to protect their community.

Sacrifice: One of the shamans promises to sacrifice a dog to his spirit helpers, highlighting the theme of offering something valuable for a greater cause.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

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

There were two shamans. One was Tenququ’ni, the other Rigowa’li. [The first name means “Good Vulva;” the second, “Hairy Buttocks.”] (They lived in) a village. Then the Re’kken attacked them: they wanted to murder them. The Re’kken (pitched) camp (close to them). In the evening the people laughed, — the human people. Those two were genuine shamans, especially Rigowa’li. Amid the talk in the night-time Rigowa’li was listening, while the other people continued to laugh. Then he said, “Be silent! Here are strange ears. Well, let me look for them!”

He went out. And all at once he saw them. They were still building their (travelling) tents. Their camp was quite close by. He went to Tenququ’ni. The people of Tenququ’ni’s house were also laughing loudly. Oh, Rigowa’li called out, “Halloo, Tenququ’ni!” — “Halloo!” — “Oh, are you aware (of it)?” — “Aware of what?” — “Oh, they want to murder us!”

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The other one came out. Rigowa’li said, “Let us visit them!” They prepared for the visit. They put on [their coats,] their shamanistic coats. Oh, they came to the camp of the Re’kken. An old man was reclining on a sledge, — a ke’le old man.

They stood up opposite the ke’le, but the ke’le could not see anything. Then the old man spoke thus: “Oh, hurry up and build the tents! We want to go and bring provisions from this direction.” Oh, they finished (their tents). Those two, however, were still listening. Again the old man said, “Oh, where are the young men? Bring the divining-stone here!” In reality, however, this was a human skull.

He began to practise divination. The shamans looked on, face to face. “Oh, we came (here) for provisions! The people must have provisions.” He moved the skull with his staff; but the skull was motionless, it refused to move. “Oh, how extraordinary! [Dear me!] Wherefore is this divining-stone motionless? It is very strange with us. We are unable to divine as to our getting provisions. Probably they have warriors.”

They pointed with their staffs at this old man while he was practising divination. All at once he started up. “Oh, I feel pain!” In a short time he was near dying. Then those spoke to each other, (saying,) “Let us go and slay them all!” — “All right!”

One of them, before his departure, promised to sacrifice a dog. He promised it to his ke’le before his departure. The other one promised nothing. Tenququ’ni struck at the people with his staff, — at the ke’le-people. Immediately the ke’le-people fled. The ground (all around) became like water, [so loose became the ground.] At the same time the ground opened, — it opened in all directions, by itself.

The (two) human shamans nearly vanished underground, as under the water. Tenququ’ni, the one who promised nothing (to his assistant spirits), [froze] stuck in the ground (as deep as) about the middle of his body, and could not disengage himself. Rigowa’li saw Tenququ’ni, (and said,) “Oh, how strange you are! [Strange are you.] You are a shaman. Have you promised (anything)?” — “Oh, nothing.” — “Oh, the deuce! Try and sing (your song).” — “Oh, I cannot.” — “Oh, try and call to your ke’le.”

He tried (to assume) the voice of his ke’le, but could not do it. And the ground was (quite) frozen. “Oh, do something to me! I will pay you.” (The other one) said, “Well, now, tell me, what will those payments be?” — “Well, a shirt of thin reindeer-skin, with an (inner) double set (belonging) to it, [the Chukchee fur clothes are almost always double] I will give you also a thong of thong-seal hide and a white-haired dog.”

After that, Rigowa’li began to sing in the open. Very soon a walrus spirit came (to them). He continued to sing, and several walrus came: they emerged out of the frozen ground. Rigowa’li said to Tenququ’ni, “They come for your sake. Well, now try to stir about yourself, and so help them.”

Then they emerged quite close to this one who stuck in the ground. They loosened (the ground) quite close to him, and he stirred. It proved to be quite on the surface. So they made him loose (from the ground).

They came back. He gave (to his companion) the thin fur shirt, and the white dog, and the thong of thong-seal hide. They continued to live there, and the ke’let again wanted to murder them. Two persons came, driving reindeer. These were Cough and Rheum.

The shamans went out. Rheum was saying to Cough, “You enter (first)!” The shamans crouched near by (motionless). Those two were approaching (the house), but again they fled, frightened [with superstitious fear].

Again they approached. This time Cough said to Rheum, “Well, you enter!” At the same time they did not notice the shamans. Again Cough said to Rheum, “Well, you enter!” And once more they fled. Nevertheless they gradually drew nearer than before, and were now close to the entrance.

Another time Cough said to Rheum, “You enter! You belong to the nose.” [A play on words. Ya’qachin means “belonging to the nose,” also “a man playing the part of a nose,” one going first, “ring-leader.”] And at last Rheum entered. They caught him, [consequently]. He roared out from shear fright. Oh, Cough, of course, fled. Oh, the poor thing wept almost, “Oh, this Cough! He himself did not want to enter!”

They went on asking him, “What are you?” — “Nothing, we are just (nothing).” — “Oh, yes! You are Rheum.” — “Well, I am Rheum.” — “All right, we shall kill you now.”

Then, being frightened, he told them everything. (He said,) “Thus I enter into (the noses) of men.” — “And the other one?” — “He is Cough.” — “Oh, such are you! We shall throw you to the ground.” — “Oh, please do not kill me! I will give you a dog.” — “You lie!” — “[Oh, yes!] (I do not). Just follow me!”

Rigowa’li followed him. They went to his sledge. Rheum [the friend] drove only one reindeer. In due time they came to his house. Near the house a dog was tied up. Its ears reached to the ground. [This description of Rheum’s dog probably has some connection with the long-eared dogs of civilized people, which the Chukchee have occasion to see.]

“This one I give you. Have you a female dog?” — “Yes, I have a female dog.” — “Through that one will send (you the dog).” — “Oh, you are deceiving me!” — “Indeed, as soon as you get back, the female dog will be pregnant.”

Then the shaman went home. He came (to his house). The female dog very soon became pregnant. Soon she brought forth (pups). One of those born was this one recently seen (in the house of the ke’le), the long-eared one. In truth, (the ke’le) sent it. A strong rib of whale served as its tying-stick. He was (kept) tied up. And every evening he barked incessantly.

And lo! this dog could be heard even from another (very distant) land. Then the next day he was still barking, (the whole night, and) even after sunrise. In the night-time the ke’let came again. The master (of the dog) slept quite soundly. So they put a net around the tent.

They began poking under the tent-covers with the tips of their driving-rods, that all the little souls should come out. Then the dog snapped his tying-stick (in two) and went out and barked loud. It wanted to attack the ke’let. So the leader of the ke’let said, “Oh, what the deuce does this dog want! Let our own dog loose! Let our dog bite it!” [So they set it loose.] So they set loose a dog, which also was very large.

Then the long-eared (dog) entered the house. It simply caught its master with its mouth and carried him out. Oh, the ke’let began to shout, “Let us make haste!” And the master awoke while they were galloping about. He was a shaman, and in a moment he was on the alert. Then again he struck at the ke’let with a stick, and killed a number of ke’let, slew (all).

They continued to live there. Rigowa’li went to a neighboring camp. He went with a dog-sledge. His dogs were four (in number). One of them he left with his wife. His wife said to him, “Take also this one for your use!” Her husband said to her, “Why, it is your spleen-companion!”

The husband remained there quite a long time. Evening came, the sun went down. Then from the direction of sunset came a ke’le. He passed by the entrance (of the house). The dog barked again, being tied up, as before.

Then the ke’le approached again. And the dog began to speak: “Oh, now, get your sledge ready and put the children in readiness upon the sledge, and my harness have in readiness.”

They approached again. The dog rushed at them, but they were not afraid at all [of the dog]. And it could only bark at them, “Gin, gin!” dog ran back to the house. It said to the woman, “Oh, attach me, put my harness on!” She attached it. They departed eastward [windward] and left the house.

Then the ke’le entered (the house). He staid there in the house. The husband (of the woman) came to the house. His three dogs had a load of meat. But on coming to the house, the dogs threw themselves down, and would not obey when he tried to urge them on, though they were quite near to the house.

They were lying flat on the ground, and refused to go to the house, because that ke’le was in the sleeping-room. [Subsequently] (the man) killed one dog, and moved (the sledge) along, dragging it himself. He took a few (steps), and (the dogs) lay down again. The man said, “How very extraordinary! It seems that (my people at home) are visited by the ke’let.”

Then he drew his big shoulder-belt knife, which was on the sledge. Then he shouted, “Halloo!” He heard only (a sound) like this from the sleeping-room: “Mm!” He stood, knife in hand, “Oh, make haste!” — “Mm!” — “Make haste, I say!” — “Mm!”

In the mean time the ke’le cautiously opened the front cover a little way and looked out. One of his eyes (appeared) just like a lamp. (The man) struck at it, and cut the eye. The eye-fluid spurted out in great quantity. Then (the ke’le) came out, and merely looked back upon the house. It became stone.

(The man) saw the tracks of runners, made by (the sledge of) his fleeing wife. He went on along these tracks. He discovered (his family) in a neighboring (camp). “Oh, you are alive!” — “Yes! Indeed, we were saved by this dog.” The husband said, “Such a one are you!” [This is as much as to say, “There is no reason to be glad, (because of the house turned to stone.)”] Oh, they visited the house, and this has turned into [a] stone [house].

They saw (entered) the house and looked around. (The woman) lighted a lamp. There was everything (scattered about). It was the contents of the ke’le’s abdomen, which came out, — everything (made) of iron [scissors, knives], all kinds of peltries [wolverene-skins, wolf-skins, bear-skins], — in a word, everything, simply a mass of wealth.

Oh, the husband entered (the house), then the wife entered, and the child entered. The husband, being a shaman, said, “Close your eyes! Do not look up!” Then he beat his drum. The sleeping-room became as before. It was their sleeping-room, the same as before. Still the outer tent was of stone.

Again he said to them, “Quick, close your eyes!” Again he beat his drum. And he said to them, “Now, look (about)!” And the house, which had recently been of stone, had become an (ordinary) house. Just then they looked on the riches, and all was simply turned to dry leaves and to the boughs of a stunted willow.

They lived there, founded a settlement, grew in number, and became a numerous people.

That is all.

Contest with the Ke’let

An old man’s lone son embarks on a perilous journey, outwitting malevolent spirits and supernatural foes through cleverness and bravery. He defeats ke’le-spirits, a predatory woman, and other dangers, ultimately returning home triumphant. His tale showcases the resilience, cunning, and heroism central to Chukchi mythology, emphasizing the struggle for survival against hostile forces in a mystical landscape.

► Themes of the story

Hero’s Journey: The protagonist embarks on a transformative adventure, facing and overcoming various challenges.

Supernatural Beings: Encounters with malevolent spirits and ke’le entities are central to the story.

Conflict with Nature: The protagonist faces and overcomes natural and supernatural challenges in his environment.

► From the same Region or People

North Asia
- Chukchee Lore

Learn more about the Chukchee people

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

One time there was a man whose sons were all dying. He became old, and was left without sons. Then in his old age a male child was born to him. The child grew, and began to construct a boat. While the father was sleeping, the boy would work on the boat. Then he set off, departed far yonder. On his journey he saw a man who was on an island. “Here, come hither!” — “I will.” He came. While he was travelling, he had caught a small seal. “Oh, let us play, let us have some fun!” — “Yes!” Oh, then the little man hid in a boot. The other one was searching for him. He was nowhere. Then he fell out (of the boot). “Oh, here I am! Now it is your turn.” The other one became a house. “Where is he, the source of trouble?” — “Oh, here I am!” He found him. “Now let us eat some liver!” — “Oh, all right! but I will go and bring my knife from the boat.” He brought the knife, and at the same time he put into his bosom the little seal lately killed by him. He put it into his bosom, together with some blood.

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“Oh, I will be first!” He pretended to rip open his abdomen with the knife and to eat (his own) liver. He cut the seal’s liver and ate it. “Now it is your turn.” All at once the other one ripped open his abdomen, and so perished, killed himself.

The man set off, and saw another jaw-bone house. There an old ke’le-woman was cooking heads. He entered. “What is the matter? Who has pushed his way into our house? Then he entered, and sat down on a pillow. When he sat down the ke’le-woman came to meet him. She carried her woman’s knife, which was covered with coagulated blood, and began to whet it. All at once he rushed upon the one who was whetting the knife, snatched away her [woman’s] knife, hit her on the head, and so she perished. He murdered her.

Then he went out, set off again, and saw a house. He came to that house. Clothes were scattered about in it. Then suddenly a voice came from the hearth. “Oh, there he is! [Also] this one murders the procurers of game. Those whom he murdered were also procurers of our food and of game.”

Then a head appeared. He hit the head with a harpoon. Then a ke’le-man from underground pulled it down, together with the thong, and made it go underground. He was moving along underground. Another small jaw-bone house stood directly opposite. There he set the ke’le free. The latter passed on, and he entered the jaw-bone house.

Two eyeless old women were sitting there. He drew out his penis, directed it toward the nose of one of them, and swung it. The old woman said, “Halloo” — “Ho!” — “Really, something made me think of the time when I had a husband!” — “Is that so?”

He killed one of the old women, and flayed her, beginning at the anus. The body he threw on a dung-hill. The skin he put on.

The people came, looking for a shaman. “What do you want?” — “Oh, (you have said) enough! A man’s head (is aching)… By the way, why has your jaw become so long?” — “Oh, has it really become so long? Well, now, you go home. I will come quick enough.”

Shortly afterwards he departed. “Let the one whose head aches sit up! Oh, this here!” And all at once he hit him on the head with a harpoon-point and killed him, so he died. He killed many more, destroyed a houseful. Then he came out and departed far yonder. He went home.

He reached home, and his parents rejoiced. He said, “Oh, indeed! I have destroyed some of the murderers.”

Ended. I have killed the wind.

Old Man of Nutchek

A wealthy man named Anoogne, proud of his abundant stores of food, mocked a divine warning about his reliance on nature’s provisions. In response, relentless snow buried the land for two years, freezing his supplies and causing widespread starvation. Humbled and remorseful, Anoogne admitted his folly, learning the harsh cost of arrogance and ingratitude toward nature’s gifts.

Source
Two Aleut Tales
recorded by Rev. T. I. Lavrischeff
American Anthropologist
Vol. 30, Issue 1, January-March 1928

► Themes of the story

Divine Punishment: Anoogne’s arrogance and dismissal of the divine warning lead to a severe punishment from higher powers, resulting in a prolonged snowstorm that devastates his resources.

Conflict with Nature: The story highlights the struggle between Anoogne and the natural forces, emphasizing the consequences of underestimating and disrespecting nature’s power.

Moral Lessons: The narrative imparts a lesson on humility and the importance of respecting nature, illustrating the perils of pride and ingratitude.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

Long, long ago rich Anoogne lived in the village on Hinchinbrook island, keeping rough storehouses with their stone shelves filled with valuable furs, many clothes and all kinds of native foods. He preserved many fish and eggs in the ground, for sour fish dug from the earth formed his favorite repast. All of the villages about worked for the Anoogne and often he gave feasts in his house and the guests praised him highly for his generous deeds. One evening, the Anoogne took a walk on the seashore. The sky was blue, the sea was calm and the old man enjoyed his slow promenade. Suddenly his foot slipped and he fell. He had stepped on a dead fish cast on the beach.

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Anoogne started to complain bitterly, but a voice came from on high, saying: “Do not scold. Do not curse the old fish. If I did not give to you the same fish for your food you will starve.”

“If you did not send this fish, I will not starve,” the Anoogne replied.

“Why not?” the voice asked.

The old man told him, “I have all kinds of fish. I have all kinds of meat, enough to keep me forever. My stores are filled with halibut, seal, bear, salmon, codfish, and mountain goats. I shall not lose the food I have stored.”

But the voice continued, “Remember, Anoogne, very soon you shall be the most miserable man and thy riches shall not be of use to thyself.”

Never, never,” replied the excited Anoogne. “I am the wealthiest of the natives and I shall never grow poor.”

“What will you eat if your food freezes over?” he was asked.

“I have dried fish and meat and have buried fish eggs, a reserve that will last a long time.”

“I can send the deep snow to cover the earth,” he was told.

“Do not think you can even cover the koongat, the edible trees?’’ the haughty Anoogne responded.

No reply came, only repeated in gradually dying echoes, the sound of the word “ahtat.”

Then the big flakes of snow started to fall softly over the earth. When the Anoogne approached his house the snow was up to his knees. His food had frozen and become like paper. The old man and his helpers started to shovel the white blanket, but such great flakes fell this work soon appeared useless. The snow even passed through the roof and filled the barabaras.

Again came the voice from on high, “There you have it.”

All of the island was covered by deep snow for twenty-four months. All living creatures perished. There was no food on land, there were no fish in the sea.

Anoogne began to starve. Greatly did he regret his mistake and his conceit. He called his neighbors and confessed his sin.

Then the voice came again, saying, “Do not speak bad words. Do not curse the food I send you. Do not grumble against fate.”

So ended the story of the richest old man of the ancient village of Nutchek.

Ughek

In a large village, Ughek, a disliked half-witted man, is abandoned by his community. Facing loneliness and the threat of a sea-monster, he devises a plan, using a stone as a trap. The monster is killed, and Ughek cooks its meat. When villagers return, he tricks them into eating the cursed feast, killing them all, and lives alone with his stone forever.

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

► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: He seeks retribution against the villagers who mistreated and abandoned him.

Conflict with Nature: The confrontation with the sea-monster represents a struggle against natural forces.

Community and Isolation: Ughek’s initial isolation and subsequent actions highlight themes of belonging and estrangement.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Arctic Region
  - Aleutian Lore

Learn more about the Aleut people

Karluk story

In a large and populous village lived a half-witted man named Ughek. On account of his meanness he was much disliked by all the people. To the evening parties where the men gathered in the large hall to play, sing and dance in a circle, he was never invited. The women were not permitted to take part in these festivities; but when bringing in the cooked seal-meat, ducks, and berries and oil, for the men, they were allowed to dance in and, after depositing the food, to dance out again. Ughek, who resented the treatment he was receiving, got even with his neighbors by hiding near the dance-hall; and as the women passed, he plucked the dress of one, pinched a second and tripped a third, and in this way made himself thoroughly disagreeable to the community.

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The chief determined to put up with him no longer. He therefore called a meeting, which decided to leave the village for a time; but Ughek should not be taken. The next day the village, except for Ughek, was deserted. For two days he did not mind his new situation; but at the end of that time he began to fear lest the schwichileghk (sea-monster, half-human and half beast, which is covered on the body with sea-shells and on the head with kelp) would come out at low tide and eat him, as he had done to others.

On the evening of the third day he gathered all the oil lamps from the other barabaras into his own, filled them with oil, and lighted them. This done, he played on the drum, sang, and danced. Every now and then he turned his head toward the beach, and once his attention was drawn to a stone. He went out to it, and said, “You are here alone, as I am. It is lonely for you. Come with me. In the barabara where I am it is pleasant, many people are dancing. Come with me.” Since the stone made no answer, he attempted to force it to come with him by carrying it, but he could not lift it. He went once more into his hut, continuing his singing. Again he approached the stone, asking it to share his joys, and again the stone refused. The attempt to move it was a little more successful, for he advanced it two steps at least. He went back to his music, and from there to the stone. The third time he transported it as far as the doorstep. He danced and sang a little more, and finally got the stone inside, and said, “I am all alone. The people have gone and left me to starve. I am afraid of the schwichileghk. I will put you over the door, and, if he comes, you fall on him and kill him.”

Having placed the stone over the door, Ughek was free to go on with his entertainment. About midnight his joy was cut short by the odor of kelp, which became stronger with each minute. Ughek had his eyes on the skin door, which fluttered, and through which a moment later a head of kelp was seen, and from it these words came in a roaring voice: “It has been a long time since I have eaten anything, but now I shall have a good feast.” The schwichileghk, for it was he, advanced slowly, but when about halfway in, the stone fell down and killed him.

Ughek raised the stone, cut the monster into small pieces, which he cooked, and filled all the dishes he could find in the village. Not many days later the villagers returned, and Ughek, on hearing them, ran off and hid. Not seeing any trace of Ughek, the chief and his people concluded that he was dead, and celebrated the event with a dance. As the women were advancing with their cooked meats, Ughek sneaked in and played his old tricks on them. One of them ran into the dance-hall, shouting excitedly, “You thought Ughek dead, but he is not. He just now tripped me.” It was decided to call him in, and invite him to tell all that happened to him during their absence. Ughek came in, and began playing on the drum, singing and dancing. That done, he asked permission of the chief to set refreshments before the people. When this was granted, he went out and brought in the cooked schwichileghk. Each person took a piece of meat, chewed and swallowed it, and dropped dead. Ughek himself returned to his hut to live with his stone, and there he is now.

The Raven and His Grandmother

In a starving village, a raven and his grandmother, outcasts with food, become central to survival. The raven marries twice, despite his repellent nature. After bringing a whale for the village, a gluttonous feast ensues, leading to the villagers’ demise. Only the raven, his grandmother, and one wife survive, highlighting themes of greed, survival, and isolation.

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

Trickster: The raven exhibits cunning behavior, negotiating with the chief to marry his daughter in exchange for food, despite his unappealing nature.

Conflict with Nature: The villagers’ insatiable hunger leads them to overconsume the whale provided by the raven, resulting in their demise.

Community and Isolation: The raven and his grandmother live apart from the village due to being disliked, emphasizing their separation from the community.

► 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.

In a barrabara (native home), at the end of a large village, lived an old woman with her grandson, a raven. The two lived apart from the other villagers, for they were disliked by them. When the men returned from fishing for cod, and the raven would come and beg a fish, they would never give him one. But when all had left the beach, he would come and pick up any sick fish or refuse that may have been left there. On this he and his grandmother lived.

One winter was very severe. Hunting was impossible; food became scarce to starvation, and even the chief had but little left. One day he (chief) called all his people together, and urged them to make an effort to obtain food, or all would starve. He also announced that he desired his son to marry, and that the bride would be selected from the village girls, who were requested to wash and dress up for the occasion. For a time hunger was forgotten; and in a short time the girls, dressed and looking their best, were lined up under the critical eye of the chief, who selected one of the fairest for his son. A feast of all the eatables the chief had followed; the village was merry for a short time, and then starved again.

The raven perched on a pole outside, observed and listened attentively to all that passed, and after the feast flew home, and said to his grandmother, “Grandmother, I too want to marry.”

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She made no reply; and he went about his duties, gathering food for his little home, which he did each day by flying along the beach, and picking up a dead fish or a bird.

He gathered more than enough for two, while in the village the hunger was keener each day. When the famine was at its worst, the raven came to the chief, and asked, “Chief, what will you give me, if I bring you food?”

The chief looked at him a while, and answered, “You shall have my oldest daughter for a wife.” No other reward would have pleased him better; he flew away in a joyful mood, and said to his grandmother: “Clean out the barrabara. Make everything ready. I am going to get food for the people, and marry the chief’s oldest daughter.”

“Ai, Ai, Y-a-h! You are not going to marry. Our barrabara is small and dirty. Where will you put your wife ?”

“Caw! Caw! Caw! Never mind. Do as I say,” he screamed, at the same time pecking her.

Early next morning he flew away, and later in the day appeared with a bundle of “yukelah” (dried salmon) in his talons. “Come with me to the chief’s house, grandmother,” he called to her. He handed the fish over to the chief, and received the daughter in exchange. Telling his grandmother to bring the bride home, he preceded them, and cleared out of the barrabara all the straw and bedding. When the two women arrived, they found an empty barrabara, and the old woman began to scold him : —

“What are you doing? Why are you throwing out everything?”

“I am cleaning house,” was his curt reply.

When the time for retiring came, the raven spread out one wing, and asked his bride to lie on it, and then covered her with the other. She spent a miserable and sleepless night in that position. The odor of his body and the breath of his mouth almost smothered her, and she determined to leave him in the morning. But in the morning she decided to stay and try and bear it. During the day she was cheerless and worried, and when the raven offered her food, she would not eat it. On the second night he again invited her to lay her head on his breast, and seek rest in his arms, but she cried and would not; and only after much threatening did he prevail on her to comply with his wish. The second night was not better than the first, and early in the morning she stole away from him and went back to her father, telling him everything.

On awaking and finding his wife gone, the raven inquired of his grandmother whether she knew aught of her whereabouts. She assured him that she did not. “Go, then,” he said, “to the chief, and bring her back.” She feared him, and did his bidding. When she came to the chief’s house, and as soon as she put her foot into it, she was pushed out. This she reported to the raven on her return.

The summer passed, followed by a hard winter and famine. As in the winter before, the raven and his grandmother had plenty, but the others suffered greatly for lack of food. With the return of the hard times, the grandson’s thoughts turned to love. This time it was a girl, young and beautiful, at the other end of the village. When he mentioned the subject and girl to his grandmother, and asked her to “go and bring the girl here — I want to marry her,” she was quite indignant, and told him what she thought about it.

“Ai, Ai, Y-a-h! Are you going to marry again? Your first wife could not live with you, because you smell so strong. The girls do not wish to marry you.”

“Caw! Caw! Caw! Never mind the smell! Never mind the smell! Go — do as I say.” To impress his commands and secure obedience he continued pecking her until she was glad to go. While she was gone, he was very restless and anxious. He hopped about the barrabara and near-by hillocks, straining his eyes for a sight of the expected bride. At last he saw them coming, his grandmother accompanied by the girl. Hurriedly he began cleaning out the barrabara, throwing out not only the straw, but bedding, baskets, and all. The old woman on her return scolded him, but he paid no attention to it.

The young bride, like her predecessor, was enfolded tightly in his wings, and like her predecessor had a wretched and sleepless night, but determined to endure it if possible; for with him she would have enough to eat, at least. The second night was as bad as the first, but she stayed on, and concluded to do so until spring. On the third day the raven, seeing that she was still with him, said to the old woman: “Tomorrow I will go and get a big, fat whale. While I am gone, make a belt and a pair of torbarsars (native shoes) for my wife.”

“Ai, Ai, Y-a-h! How will you bring a whale? The hunters cannot kill one, and how will you do it?”

“Caw! Caw! Caw! Be quiet, and do what I tell you : make the belt and torbarsars. I will do what I say,” he angrily exclaimed, also using his more effective method of silencing her.

Before dawn next morning the raven flew away over the sea. In his absence the old woman was busily engaged making the things for the young bride, who was watching and talking to her. About midday they espied him flying toward the shore, carrying a whale. The grandmother started the fire, and the young woman tucked up her parka (native dress), belted it with the new belt, put on the new torbarsars, sharpened the stone knife, and went to the beach to meet her husband. As he drew near, he cried: “Grandmother, go into the village, and call the people; tell them I have brought a big, fat whale.” She ran as hard as she could, and told the joyful news. The half-dead village of a sudden became alive. Some began sharpening their knives, others to dress; but most of them ran just as they were and with such knives as they had, to the beach where the whale was. His importance was not lost on the raven, who hopped up and down the whale’s back, viewing the scene of carnage and gorging below him. Every now and then he would take out a pebble from the tool bag which he had about him, and after a seeming consultation put it back. When the chief or any of his relatives came near, he drove them off, and they had to satisfy themselves with watching and feasting with their eyes from the distance, while the others were revelling in fat and even carrying off the blubber to their homes. (Later, in the village, the people shared with the chief.)

The raven’s first wife, the chief’s daughter, had a son by him, a little raven. She had it in her arms on this occasion, and walked in front of the raven where he would have to notice her. “Here is your child, look at it,” she called. But he acted as if he heard not. She called several times, and continued forcing the baby before his eyes until he said, “Come nearer, nearer still;” and when quite close to him, he turned around and excreted on them, almost covering up the child. She turned away, and left him without a word.

Death was the result of the feast. A part of the people ate so much fat on the spot that they died soon after; the rest had eaten so much and filled their barrabaras so full of blubber that during the night they suffocated. In the whole village only three were left, the raven, his wife, and his grandmother, and there they live to this day.