Angutisugsuk

Three brothers, skilled hunters led by Angutisugsuk, face conflict after aiding their starving community. Old sorcerers cast spells on Angutisugsuk’s home, sowing discord upon his return. Domestic tensions escalate, leading to violent familial strife. Angutisugsuk, feared for his strength, is ambushed and killed by his kin. Regret follows as his brother mourns the loss, reflecting on the once generous man destroyed by vengeance and manipulation.

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 brothers’ initial act of sharing resources challenges the established norms, leading to resentment from the elders.

Cunning and Deception: The elders’ use of sorcery to incite discord exemplifies deceit leading to tragic outcomes.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into complex familial relationships, highlighting how external manipulation can lead to internal strife and tragedy.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


There were three brothers, the eldest of whom was called Angutisugsuk. They had never lived apart; and all of them were clever hunters, especially Angutisugsuk. One winter the weather was dreadfully severe, and all the neighbours were in great want. Only the three brothers had enough to spare, and the others claimed their assistance. It so happened that two old men came to them with that intention; and during their visit the wife of Angutisugsuk remonstrated, saying that they were having rather too many visitors about the place, at which the old men quickly took offence.

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And in spring-time, when Angutisugsuk’s family left their winter-quarters, and were away on some long excursion, they visited the place in their kayaks, entered the empty house, and practised all manner of sorcery and witchcraft upon the wall adjoining the ledge occupied by Angutisugsuk’s wife, in order to produce discord among the family when they came back from their travels. In autumn they all returned to the old house as usual. One day Angutisugsuk did not go out kayaking, but stayed at home to make a wooden plate and spoon. At that time he had got two wives, both of whom were very clever at needle-work; and he offered to give her who would mend his fur jacket for him the wooden plate and spoon. The first wife made answer, before the second could put in a word, “I want to have them — I will mend the jacket;” and she worked very quickly on it. The second wife, however, who happened to be the best beloved, on her part became envious, and got into a passion. Perceiving this, the husband struck her, because of her having borne him no children. At this his youngest son began crying; and seeing it, the child’s uncle fell upon the father, who was still ill-treating his second wife. In this fight Angutisugsuk thrust his brother against the door-sill with such force that his thigh-bone was bruised; and he would have followed up his advantage over him but for the younger brother and some others, who interfered in the quarrel. Thus it came to pass as the old men had planned when they went and bewitched the empty house in their absence. After having lamed his brother, Angutisugsuk next day loaded his boat and went off in it, taking a small roofless house for himself which he found a little north of his former station; and as a substitute for roof-beams he made a shift with his tent-poles. His proper wife he left behind, and only took the second one along with him. Seeing that his brother was now able to stir, he resolved to kill him, and repeatedly returned to despatch him; but somehow he always found his younger brother or his nephew by his side, and never succeeded in accomplishing his end. These two watched the sick man by turns; and only one at a time went out in his kayak. Angutisugsuk one day encountered his nephew at sea, and resolved to pursue him; but as soon as they came within sight of the house on shore, he left off and turned back. When the nephew got home, he told them that Angutisugsuk had been persecuting him; and his father (viz., the invalid) said, “Tomorrow thou must go and ask our neighbours to assist us in getting Angutisugsuk out of the way, because he has gone raving mad; but two or three men will not suffice, for he is immensely strong himself.” The son went the following morning to several stations, and brought a considerable party of kayakers along with him; and the invalid accosted them, saying, “Let us agree to kill Angutisugsuk. Every day he comes this way intending to take my life; but as soon as he sees anybody staying with me, he desists and turns back.” All the men prepared to pass the night there, hiding their kayaks behind the house; and early in the morning they saw Angutisugsuk in his kayak emerging from behind a rocky point close by. As nobody was to be seen, and he did not even observe the kayaks of his brother and nephew, he supposed them to be off, and made for the shore as fast as possible. An old man among the strangers now drew his hood closer to his head, and pronounced a magic spell, adding that, if it were likely to succeed, Angutisugsuk as a sure sign would turn the back of his hands downwards, instead of using the palms in ascending the beach. Watching him very closely, they noticed that he did as the old man had foretold, and they no longer had any doubt of their success. Having got out on the beach, he only drew his kayak half-way out of the water, and went straight up to the house as if to enter it at once; but bethinking himself of something, turned back to the large boat to get hold of a flensing-knife, and then proceeded to the entry. The men were all reclining on the side-ledge couches except two, who stood posted at the inner entrance ready to seize him. When he saw his brother sitting on the main ledge, he addressed him in the following words, saying, “Here is a brave man for thee! I’ll show thee the way to fight! Didst thou really believe I did not intend to kill thee?” Thus speaking, he advanced a step or two, but was soon seized by the two men, and quickly disarmed. He was at once conducted outside, where all the rest fell upon him; but nobody could manage to overthrow him. At last, when they had got him hamstrung, he fell; whereat they seized him, and held a council as to which of them should first stab him. At last the invalid brother was carried out, in order that he might finish him off. They put him down close beside the other, and he said, “Go and fetch me my spear from under the boat.” When he had got it, he lanced his brother several times in the shoulder, saying, “Now let go your hold; if he boasts himself a man, he will be sure to rise.” He did get up, and went towards his kayak on the beach, but fell down dead before he reached it. Then the surviving brother exclaimed, “Alas! we have killed him who did well towards us. In the short, dark days, when we were almost starving, he did not mind toiling away for us. I am sorry indeed: now do kill me also!” He asked his brother, his son, and all the other men; but finding that nobody would do it, he said, “Well, then, go and fetch his second wife, and kill her at any rate; it was she who began it all.” They did so; and the person who slew her admonished the bystanders, saying, “Now put together all her things, and all her clothes, all her jackets of reindeer-skin, her breeches and boots of seal-skin — get them all together, and carry them along with her; and mind you close up the burial-place well, and heap plenty of stones on top of it.” Later on, when the invalid recovered, he felt great remorse for his act of violence; but the old magician was quite satisfied that Angutisugsuk should have been killed by his brother.


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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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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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Kumagdlat and Asalok

This story, also well known in all parts of Greenland, has been derived from five copies, written in different parts of that country. Unlike the preceding tales, it exhibits a more historical appearance, apparently referring to certain occurrences which must have taken place during the stay of the primeval Eskimo on the shores of the American continent, and have been repeated until our day. It indicates the first appearances of culture in attempts to provide tools or weapons from seashells, stones, and metal, as well as conflicts and meetings of the Eskimo with the Indians, which in recent times have still taken place on the banks of the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers.

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


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The old woman’s deceitful manipulation of Kumagdlat’s perception of his cousins drives the central conflict of the narrative.

Conflict with Authority: The tale reflects the challenges faced by the cousins as they navigate external threats and internal mistrust, leading to a breakdown in their previously harmonious relationship.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into the complexities of familial relationships, particularly how external influences and deceit can disrupt the bonds between close relatives.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Three cousins named Kumagdlat, Asalok, and Merak were very fond of one another. Kumagdlat occupied a house by himself, and had his own boat [umiak, the larger skin-boat, fit for one to three families travelling with their tents, and all the other necessaries, for the summer season]. The other two kept a house and a boat in partnership; but they all assisted each other early and late, and amused themselves in exercising and exhibiting their mutual strength. When they went out kayaking, they always accompanied each other in a friendly and amicable manner, and were on the whole much attached to one another.

► Continue reading…

Kumagdlat had an old crone living with him, and she used to be very cross-tempered; and one day he accosted her as follows: “I won’t have cross old women living in my house, and I shall certainly put thee to death some day or other.” The old hag now behaved peacefully and quietly, until one day she exclaimed: “I can tell thee, it is not without reason that I am so quiet and low-spirited; from the first day thou began to maintain and support me I have been very sorry for thee, and this has made me silent and downhearted.” “How so?” asked Kumagdlat; and she answered: “Is it not that thy cousins love thee so very dearly? Nevertheless they now intend to put an end to thy life.” However, she had invented this lie, being so ill-natured and resentful that she could not even sleep at night. But from that time Kumagdlat began to fear his cousins; and though he never used to be parted from them all day long, he now began to shun them. One day in the spring they entered his house, saying, “Art thou not going out in thy kayak today?” But he answered, “No, I can’t go; I must leave my kayak time to dry,” — and accordingly they set out without him. In their absence he dug up his tent-poles from the snow, and had just finished when they returned. Next morning they again entered with the same question, but he answered as before: “No, I must have my kayak perfectly dry before I can use it.” They would have liked him to go with them; but as he would not be persuaded, they again went out by themselves. As soon as they were out of sight he prepared everything for leaving his old quarters: he had his boat put in the water, and as soon as it was loaded he pushed off; but at parting he said to the people on shore: “Tell them to follow as soon as possible; we intend to go out to sea to our usual reserves” (depots for provisions): and so saying, he started. Asalok and Merak at last returned, and when they discovered that Kumagdlat was gone, they made inquiries, and received the answer, “They have newly departed, and left word that they intended to go out seaward to their usual reserves, and that they wanted you to follow them as soon as possible.” They at once determined to do so; and early the next morning the boat was put right, loaded, and away they went, taking the usual direction: but they did not find him, nor any marks or traces of him along the shore. It is said that Kumagdlat had the skull of a seal for an amulet, and that now every time when he had to pass inhabited places he fixed his amulet on the prow of his boat, that the people of the places might think it to be nothing but a spotted seal diving up and down. But in one of the settlements he thus passed there happened to be a fool, who (fools or naturals being considered as clairvoyants) always had a presentiment of whatever was to take place, and being aware of the boat passing by, he cried out, “A boat! a boat!” But when the others went out to look for it, they could only see a spotted seal diving up and down, and after awhile totally disappearing. When Asalok with his company came to this place and heard these news, they knew that Kumagdlat must have passed by, because they knew of his having such an amulet. Meantime Kumagdlat travelled on night and day without going ashore; when the rowing-girls got too tired, they only made fast the boat a short time to take rest, and then continuing their voyage, until they at last stopped at a well-peopled place, where they resolved to take up their quarters. In this place they met with a very old man busily employed in making a boat. His hair was as white as the side of an iceberg, and beside him stood a bearded young man. Some time after the arrival of Kumagdlat, the old man said to him, “Before this young man here was born I commenced building that boat, and by this time I have only just finished the hull.” But right and left heaps of shells were seen piled together, these being the only tools he had had to work with. “Here we have not got so much as a single knife,” rejoined the old man; “but yonder, in the interior of the country, live people who have knives in abundance.” And when Kumagdlat went on asking, he continued, “Farther inland numerous erkileks have their abodes, and they are immensely rich. [Erkileks are a sort of fabulous beings — half men, half beasts. All sorts of inlanders in the Greenlandish tales represent fabulous or supernatural beings. The most common kind, and probably the inlanders in general, are called tornit (plural of tunek), which is what in the following pages we have translated by inlanders.] However, when any of the coast people go there they never return, being mostly killed, I suppose.” Kumagdlat now said, “I have a great mind to go out in search of them myself;” but the old man replied, “I am afeared thou wilt not be able to do aught by thyself as even several of our people going together have always been put to death. The erkileks are rare people, and neither to be matched in swiftness nor agility.” But Kumagdlat returned to his tent and set about making a small bow and arrows — the quiver he formed out of seal-skin; and having finished these, he started on his journey to the erkileks, all by himself.

When, meanwhile, the brothers Asalok and Merak likewise had wandered about the country for a long time, they at length discovered an extensive plain below them, where the erkileks lived in many tents, and only had a lake for their sea. They now hid themselves, awaiting the fall of night, and watching the return of the erkileks from their day’s hunting. Beneath the rays of the setting sun they espied a very tall man carrying a burden on his back. They were just in the act of discharging their arrows at him, when both exclaimed, “Why, is not that man like Kumagdlat?” and when he answered, “Yes, so it is,” they said to each other, “Well, since we have so happily met, one of the hateful erkileks shall fall.” Having thus again met and recognised each other, Kumagdlat told his cousins how the old hag had calumniated them to him. When it had grown quite dark, and all was silent in the camp of the erkileks, the cousins rose up and first set out in search of some place of security for themselves. At the further side of the lake the erkileks had pitched their tents, and right opposite was a small island, which they fixed upon as a place of refuge. On arriving at the spot they observed that the distance of the island might be about a stone’s-throw. Kumagdlat, with the burden on his back, was the first to venture the leap, and succeeded in gaining the island; Asalok, too, reached the opposite shore; but Merak exclaimed, “I really cannot do it.” When, however, the others prevailed upon him to try the leap, he, too, reached the island, though not without touching the water in crossing. In this place they now deposited their arrows, each providing himself with only two, after which they returned to the mainland, Merak, as before, almost touching the water. They now advanced towards the tents, where the inmates had all retired to rest. Having reached the largest, Kumagdlat said to his companions, “I’ll jump up on the cross-beam above the entrance, while ye pass through the fore-room.” Having passed the entrance, and peeping through the skin curtain of the main room, they beheld an old married couple inside, who were still awake. The woman, who was in the family way, was sitting upright, whilst the man was leaning forward, resting his head on his hands. All of a sudden the man gave a howl like a dog, at which the woman arose to her feet. He then commenced licking her belly, and she handed him some reindeer-tallow. Kumagdlat now said, “Next time he begins to lick her, I’ll take aim and shoot her.” When the old man had finished eating he gave a howl as before, and the woman again got up; but just as he was in the act of licking her, Kumagdlat shot her right through the body. A fearful yell was now heard, and Kumagdlat jumping quickly down, they all hurried across to their hiding-place, while the erkileks in great crowds issued out of their tents. The cousins, meantime, reached the island in the same manner as before. Having safely arrived there, they at once lay down in a row on the ground, each behind the other, Kumagdlat in front, then Asalok, and Merak hindmost. The erkileks began to arm and discharge their arrows at them, which they carried in quivers at their backs; but the women pulling out the arrows from above, were enabled to discharge them much quicker than the men, who pulled them out sideways. While the cousins were watching the archers on shore, always diving down before their arrows, they noted one whistling through the air, and having slightly touched the two, they heard it strike behind them; and looking round, they saw that Merak had been dangerously hit in the throat through venturing to raise his head. Then Asalok said to Kumagdlat, “Dost not thou know any spell for restoring life?” He answered, “Yes, I believe I do;” whereupon he began to murmur some words. When he had finished, they looked round and observed that the arrow had already gone half-way out of Merak’s throat, and when Kumagdlat spoke the third time, Merak was alive and unhurt. The erkileks continued shooting; but when they had used up all their arrows, Kumagdlat had only the skin of his temple grazed a little, and the cousins now arose to pay them back with their bows. When a great number of the erkileks had been shot, they pursued the rest along a river, until they reached a waterfall, where they had a hiding-place; but there Kumagdlat killed them all by throwing stones at them, as they issued forth one by one. Afterwards the friends returned to the tents, where the children had remained immovable, and stunned with terror, feigning to be dead; but the cousins caught hold of them nevertheless, and having pierced them through the ears, they quickly killed them — only one boy and a girl being left alive. They examined the furniture of the erkileks, and found pots of copper, with copper handles to them, and no requisites of any kind wanting. On opening the boxes, the covers unlocked of themselves, because of the great quantity of clothes they contained. These boxes they again closed, but opened others containing knives with beautiful handles, of which they took as many away with them as they could possibly carry, and then again made their way towards the coast. In the meantime the people with whom Kumagdlat had left his family often used to mock them, saying, “Look ye, those who go to the erkileks won’t fail to bring back many fine things, such as beautiful knives, with pretty hafts to them.” On hearing this, Kumagdlat’s wife would run outside, believing her husband to be coming; but they only said so because they believed him to have been killed. An old bachelor had taken her into his house and provided for her, considering her to be a widow. At the time when Kumagdlat was actually returning to the coast, the people were again ridiculing his family, crying out as before. But at the same moment the old boat-builder turned round and beheld Kumagdlat descending the hill, and carrying great loads on his back; and on his approach he discovered his burden to consist of knives with beautiful hafts. On entering the tent Kumagdlat found his mother and wife mourning his absence, and he said, “I expected to have found you with the lamps extinguished” (viz., at the point of starvation). They made answer, “The old bachelor has provided for us, that we might not perish from hunger.” Kumagdlat rejoined, “Many thanks to him, then, and let him come and choose himself a knife.” But the old bachelor would not enter, but wanted the knife to be brought to him; whereupon Kumagdlat said, “Having such great cause to be thankful towards him, I must have him come in.” But the old man, fearing some mischief (viz., suspecting jealousy), insisted on having the knife brought out to him. Kumagdlat, however, continued calling from within; and now at last the old man just crossed the threshold, saying, “Well, then, let me have the knife:” but Kumagdlat still entreated him to come further into the room; and having at length made him sit down, said, “Thou hast provided well for these poor creatures; I thank thee very much, and hope thou wilt accept of these knives,” and he offered him two with beautiful handles. It is said that the cousins afterwards returned to their old home, and that they grew very renowned for their vigour and dexterity, and killed bears as well as kilivfaks (fabulous beasts).


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Igimarasugsuk

This somewhat trifling but still curious story is well known to every child in Greenland; and one tale has also been got from Labrador, and is undoubtedly another reading of the same original, though much abridged and altered.

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


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The wife employs clever tactics to deceive Igimarasugsuk, feigning compliance while plotting her escape.

Conflict with Authority: The wife challenges her husband’s tyrannical and murderous behavior, ultimately defying his control.

Trickster: Although traditionally associated with mischievous figures, the wife’s cunning behavior aligns with this theme as she uses wit to overcome danger.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


It was said of Igimarasugsuk that he always lost his wives in a very short time, and always as quickly married again; but nobody knew that he always killed and ate his wives, as well as his little children. At last he married a girl who had a younger brother, and many relatives besides. Entering the house on his return from a reindeer-hunt, he one day said to his brother-in-law: “Pray go and fetch me my axe — thou wilt find it lying underneath the boat-pillars” (viz., pillars upon which the boat is laid during the winter); and at the same time Igimarasugsuk got up and followed him.

► Continue reading…

On hearing the shrieks of her brother, the wife of Igimarasugsuk peeped out, and beheld him pursuing the former, and shortly after striking him on the head, so that he fell down dead on the spot. After this he ordered his wife to dress and boil some parts of the body of her brother. Igimarasugsuk now commenced eating, and offered a piece of an arm to his wife, insisting upon her eating with him; but she only feigned to do so, and concealed her portion under the ashes of the fire. Then the husband exclaimed, “I actually think thou art crying!” “No,” she said; “I am only a little shy.” After having devoured his brother-in-law, the husband now began to fatten his wife; and to this end ordered her to eat nothing but reindeer-tallow, and only drink as much as a small shell would hold. At last she grew so fat that she was not able to move about at all. One day he went away, after having securely shut the entrance to the summer-tent, fastening it with strong cords. When he had been gone a considerable time she took her knife, let herself fall down from the bench, and rolled herself as far as to the entry. By great efforts she crossed the threshold, and was now in the fore-room, where she cut the strings fastening the outer curtain. She then rolled herself down to a muddy pool and drank a great deal of water; after which she felt less heavy, and was able to get up and walk back. She re-entered the tent, stuffed out her jacket, put it on the bench with its back turned outward; and fastening the entrance well, she went away. But being convinced that her husband would shortly pursue her, she took her way down to a very large piece of drift-wood that had been hauled ashore, and she then worked a spell upon it, singing thus: “kissugssuak pingerssuak, ia-ha-ha, arape, kupe, sipe, sipe sisaria.” And forthwith the timber opened midways, and she entered it, again singing, “kissugssuak… arape, mame, mamesisaria.” Then it closed around her, leaving her in darkness. In the meantime she heard her husband coming on towards the spot. He had entered the tent, and seeing the stuffed jacket, he thrust his lance into it; but on discovering what it really was, he ran out, and following the footprints of his wife all the way to the timber, he stopped there, and she plainly heard him say: “Oh what a pity I waited so long in killing her! oh poor miserable me!” Then she heard him turn away and return several times; but every trace ending at the large timber, he at last went away, and she again sang kissugssuak, &c., and instantly the drift-wood opening, she crept out and ran farther on. But lest he should overtake and discover her, she hid herself in a fox-hole. Every trace again ending here, she heard him digging the very earth with his hands; but he soon grew tired, and went away, returning and again going away as before, bemoaning himself in the same manner: “Oh what a pity, poor miserable man that I am!” &c. Perceiving him to be gone, she again set off on her journey. Still, however, fearing him, she next took refuge behind some bushes. Again she heard him come and repeat his old lament: “What a pity I put off eating her so long!” and again going away, he immediately returned, saying, “Here every trace of her ends.” Proceeding on her way, she now had a faint hope of reaching some inhabited place ere he could get up with her again. At length she caught sight of some people gathering berries in the country; but on perceiving her they were on the point of taking fright, when she cried out, “I am the wife of Igimarasugsuk.” They now approached her, and taking hold of her hands, brought her to their home. Having arrived there she said: “Igimarasugsuk, who has the habit of eating his wives, has also eaten his brother-in-law; and if he really wants to get hold of me too, he will be sure to come and fetch me; and as he is very fond of entertainment, ye had better treat him civilly and politely.” Soon after, he arrived; but she hid herself behind a skin curtain. The rest rose up and went out to welcome him, saying: “We trust thy people at home are quite well.” “Yes, they are very well indeed,” he answered. When he had entered they served a meal before him, and afterwards offered him a drum, saying, “Now let us have a little of thy performance.” He took hold of the drum, but soon returned it to one of the others, saying, “Ye ought rather to entertain me;” and the other man, seizing the drum, began to sing: “Igimarasugsuk — the cruel man — who ate his wives.”… At these words Igimarasugsuk blushed all over his face and down his throat; but when the singer continued, “and she was forced to eat of her own brother’s arm,” the wife came forward, saying, “No, indeed, I did not; I concealed my share beneath the ashes.” They now caught hold of him, and the wife killed him with a lance, saying, “Dost thou remember thrusting thy lance into my stuffed jacket?”


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How the Giantess Guimara Became Small

Prince D. Joaõ, separated from his companions while hunting, discovers a giant’s land and becomes a servant in the royal palace. The giant’s daughter, Guimara, falls for him, aiding him in magical feats to outwit her father. When they escape, Guimara’s enchantments save them repeatedly. Reaching D. Joaõ’s kingdom, she shrinks to human size after he briefly forgets her, becoming queen but losing her powers.

Source
Tales of Giants from Brazil
by Elsie Spicer Eells
Dodd, Mead and Co. – New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Forbidden Love: The romance between Prince D. Joaõ and Guimara defies her father’s expectations.

Magic and Enchantment: Guimara uses her magical abilities to assist D. Joaõ in various feats.

Conflict with Authority: Their relationship and actions challenge the giant king’s authority.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Brazilian peoples


Once upon a time a prince called D. Joaõ went hunting with a number of companions. In the deep forest he became separated from his comrades and soon found himself lost. He wandered about for a long time, and at last he spied what looked like a mountain range in the distance. He journeyed toward it as fast as he could travel, and when he got near to it he was surprised to find out that it was really a high wall. It was the great wall which bounds the land of the giants. The ruler of the country was an enormous giant whose head reached almost to the clouds.

► Continue reading…

The giant’s wife was nearly as enormous as he was, and their only child was as tall as her mother. Her name was Guimara.

When the giant saw D. Joaõ he called out, “O, little man, what are you doing down there?” D. Joaõ narrated his adventures to the giant, and the giant said, “Your story of your wanderings interests me. It is not often that little men like you pass this way. If you like you may live in my palace and be my servant.” D. Joaõ accepted the giant’s offer and stayed at the palace.

The giant’s daughter Guimara was very much pleased with D. Joaõ. He was the first little man she had ever seen. She fell deeply in love with him. Her father, however, was very much disgusted at her lack of good taste. He preferred to have a giant for a son-in-law. Accordingly he thought of a plot to get D. Joaõ into trouble.

The next day he sent for D. Joaõ to appear before him. “O little man,” he said to him, “they tell me that you are very proud of yourself and that you are boasting among my servants that you are able to tear down my palace in a single night and set it up again as quickly as you tore it down.”

“I never have made any such boast, your majesty,” replied D. Joaõ.

He went to Guimara and told her about it. “I am an enchantress,” said Guimara. “Leave it to me and we will surprise my father.”

The very next night Guimara and D. Joaõ tore down the giant’s palace and set it up again exactly as it was before. The giant was greatly surprised. He suspected that his daughter had meddled with the affair.

The next day he sent for D. Joaõ and said to him, “O little man, they tell me that you say that in a single night you are able to change the Isle of Wild Beasts into a beautiful garden full of all sorts of flowers and with a silvery fountain in the centre.”

“I never said any such thing, your majesty,” replied D. Joaõ.

He told Guimara about it and she said that it would be great fun to escape from her room that night and make over the Isle of the Wild Beasts into a lovely garden.

Accordingly Guimara worked hard all night long helping D. Joaõ to make the Isle of the Wild Beasts over into a garden full of all sorts of beautiful flowers and with a silvery fountain in the centre. The king was greatly surprised to see the garden in the morning and he was very angry at Guimara and D. Joaõ.

Guimara was so frightened at her father’s terrible wrath that she decided to run away with D. Joaõ. She counselled him to procure the best horse from her father’s stable for them to ride.

At midnight Guimara crept out of her room and ran to the place where D. Joaõ was waiting for her with the horse, which travelled one hundred leagues at each step. They mounted the horse and rode away.

Early the next morning the princess Guimara was missed from the royal palace. Soon it was discovered that D. Joaõ was gone too, and also the best horse from the stables. The giant talked over the matter with his wife. She told him to take another horse which could travel a hundred leagues a step and go after them as fast as he could. The giant followed his wife’s advice, and soon he had nearly caught up with the fugitives, for they had grown tired and had stopped to rest.

Guimara spied her father coming and turned herself into a little river. She turned D. Joaõ into an old negro, the horse into a tree, the saddle into a bed of onions, and the musket they carried into a butterfly.

When the giant came to the river he called out to the old negro who was taking a bath, “O, my old negro, have you seen anything of a little man accompanied by a handsome young woman?”

The old negro did not say a single word to him, but dived into the water. When he came out he called the giant’s attention to the bed of onions. “I planted these onions,” he said. “Aren’t they a good crop?”

The bed of onions smelled so strong that the giant did not like to stay near them. The butterfly flew at the giant’s eyes and almost into them. He was disgusted and went home to talk it over with his wife.

“How silly you were,” said the giant’s wife. “Don’t you see that Guimara had changed herself into a river and had changed D. Joaõ into an old negro, the horse into a tree, the saddle into a bed of onions, and the musket into a butterfly? Hurry after them at once.”

The giant again went in pursuit, promising his wife that next time he would not let Guimara play any tricks on him. The next time that Guimara saw her father coming she thought of a new plan. She changed herself into a church. She turned D. Joaõ into a padre, the horse into a bell, the saddle into an altar and the musket into a mass-book.

When the giant approached the church he was completely deceived. “O, holy padre,” he said to the priest, “have you seen anything of a little man, accompanied by a handsome young woman, passing this way?”

The padre went on with his mass and said:

“I am a hermit padre
Devoted to the Immaculate;
I do not hear what you say.
Dominus vobiscum.”

The giant could get no other response from him. At last he gave up in despair and went home to talk things over with his wife.

“Of all stupid fools you are the most stupid of all,” said his wife when she had heard the tale. “Don’t you see that Guimara has changed herself into a church, D. Joaõ into a priest, the horse into a bell, the saddle into the altar, and the musket into the mass-book? Hurry after them again as fast as you can. I am going with you, myself, this time, to see that Guimara does not play any more tricks on you.”

This time the fugitives had travelled far when Guimara’s parents overtook them. They had almost reached D. Joaõ’s own kingdom. Guimara threw a handful of dust into her parents’ eyes, and it became so dark that they could not see. Guimara and D. Joaõ escaped safely into his own kingdom.

When they had started out on the journey, Guimara had said, “O, D. Joaõ, whatever happens, don’t forget me for one single minute. Think of me all the time.” He had promised and he had remembered her every instant on the journey. However, when they reached his own kingdom, he was so happy to see home once more after all his adventures that he thought he had never before been so happy in all his life. After one has been living in Giantland it is very pleasant to get home where things are a few sizes smaller and a bit more convenient. Then, too, it was very pleasant for him to see all his friends again. He was so happy at being home that, just for one little minute, he forgot all about Guimara.

When D. Joaõ remembered Guimara he turned around to look at her. When he saw her he could hardly believe his eyes. Instead of being a tall, tall giantess with her head up in the clouds, she reached just to D. Joaõ’s own shoulder. D. Joaõ was so surprised that he had to sit down in a chair and be fanned. He couldn’t say a single word for eighteen minutes and a half–his breath had been so completely taken away.

“It is a good thing that you happened to think of me just as soon as you did,” remarked Guimara. “I was getting smaller and smaller. If you had neglected to think of me for another minute I should have faded away entirely and you would have never known what had become of me.”

When Guimara became small she lost her power as an enchantress entirely. Her lovely eyes were always a trifle sad because D. Joaõ had forgotten her that one little minute. She never went back to Giantland but reigned as queen of D. Joaõ’s kingdom for many years.


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

The Princess of the Springs

The Moon Giant and the Giantess of the Great River had a daughter, the Spring Princess, who became a ruler of rivers and lakes. She married the Sun Giant but spent three months yearly with her mother. After rescuing her imprisoned mother, the Spring Princess returned late, finding her son mistreated by the Sun Giant’s new wife. Heartbroken, she fled to the sea, birthing the Rain Giant, who now rules thunderstorms.

Source
Tales of Giants from Brazil
by Elsie Spicer Eells
Dodd, Mead and Co. – New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The narrative explores the deep love between the Spring Princess and her mother, as well as the betrayal she feels upon discovering her son’s mistreatment by the Sun Giant’s new wife.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into complex relationships within the family, highlighting the bond between mother and daughter, marital challenges, and the impact on their offspring.

Conflict with Authority: The Spring Princess faces opposition from the Sun Giant regarding her decisions, such as visiting her mother and concerns over her son’s well-being, illustrating struggles against dominant powers.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Brazilian peoples


Once, long ago, the Moon Giant wooed the beautiful giantess who dwells in the Great River and won her love. He built for her a wonderful palace where the Great River runs into the sea. It was made of mother-of-pearl with rich carvings, and gold and silver and precious stones were used to adorn it. Never before in all the world had a giant or giantess possessed such a magnificent home. When the baby daughter of the Moon Giant and the Giantess of the Great River was born it was decreed among the giants that she should be the Princess of all the Springs and should rule over all the rivers and lakes.

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The light of her eyes was like the moonbeams, and her smile was like moonlight on still waters. Her strength was as the strength of the Great River, and the fleetness of her foot was as the swiftness of the Great River.

As the beautiful Spring Princess grew older many suitors came to sing her praises beneath the palace windows, but she favoured none of them. She was so happy living in her own lovely palace with her own dear mother that she did not care at all for any suitor. No other daughter ever loved her mother as the Spring Princess loved the Giantess of the Great River.

At last the Sun Giant came to woo the Spring Princess. The strength of the Sun Giant was as the strength of ten of the other suitors of the fair princess. He was so powerful that he won her heart.

When he asked her to marry him, however, and go with him to his own palace, the Spring Princess shook her lovely head. “O Sun Giant, you are so wonderful and so powerful that I love you as I never before have loved a suitor who sang beneath my palace window,” said she, “but I love my mother, too. I cannot go away with you and leave my own dear mother. It would break my heart.”

The Sun Giant told the Spring Princess again and again of his great love for her, of his magnificent palace which would be her new home, of the happy life which awaited her as queen of the palace. At length she listened to his pleadings and decided that she could leave home and live with him for nine months of the year. For three months of every year, however, she would have to return to the wonderful palace of mother-of-pearl where the Great River runs into the sea and spend the time with her mother, the Giantess of the Great River.

The Sun Giant at last sorrowfully consented to this arrangement and the wedding feast was held. It lasted for seven days and seven nights. Then the Spring Princess went away with the Sun Giant to his own home.

Every year the Spring Princess went to visit her mother for three months according to the agreement. For three months of every year she lived in the palace of mother-of-pearl where the Great River runs into the sea. For three months of every year the rivers sang once more as they rushed along their way. For three months the lakes sparkled in the bright sunlight as their hearts once more were brimful of joy.

When at last the little son of the Spring Princess was born she wanted to take him with her when she went to visit her mother. The Sun Giant, however, did not approve of such a plan. He firmly refused to allow the child to leave home. After much pleading, all in vain, the Spring Princess set out upon her journey alone, with sorrow in her heart. She left her baby son with the best nurses she could procure.

Now it happened that the Giantess of the Great River had not expected that her daughter would be able to visit her that year. She had thought that all the rivers and lakes, the palace of mother-of-pearl, and her own mother heart would have to get along as best they could without a visit from the Spring Princess. The Giantess of the Great River had gone away to water the earth. One of the land giants had taken her prisoner and would not let her escape.

When the Spring Princess arrived at the beautiful palace of mother-of-pearl and gold and silver and precious stones, where the Great River runs into the sea, there was no one at home. She ran from room to room in the palace calling out, “O dear mother, Giantess of the Great River, dear, dear mother! Where are you? Where have you hidden yourself?”

There was no answer. Her own voice echoed back to her through the beautiful halls of mother-of-pearl with their rich carvings. The palace was entirely deserted.

She ran outside the palace and called to the fishes of the river, “O fishes of the river, have you seen my own dear mother?”

She called to the sands of the sea, “O sands of the sea, have you seen my darling mother?”

She called to the shells of the shore, “O shells of the shore, have you seen my precious mother?”

There was no answer. No one knew what had become of the Giantess of the Great River.

The Spring Princess was so worried that she thought her heart would break in its anguish. In her distress she ran over all the earth.

Then she went to the house of the Great Wind. The Giant of the Great Wind was away, but his old father was at home. He was very sorry for the Spring Princess when he heard her sad story. “I am sure my son can help you find your mother,” he said as he comforted her. “He will soon get home from his day’s work.”

When the Giant of the Great Wind reached home he was in a terrible temper. He stormed and raged and gave harsh blows to everything he met. His father had hid the Spring Princess in a closet out of the way, and it was fortunate indeed for her that he had done so.

After the Great Wind Giant had taken his bath and eaten his dinner he was better natured. Then his father said to him, “O my son, if a wandering princess had come this way on purpose to ask you a question, what would you do to her?”

“Why, I’d answer her question as best I could, of course,” responded the Giant of the Great Wind.

His father straightway opened the closet door and the Spring Princess stepped out. In spite of her long wanderings and great anguish of mind she was still very lovely as she knelt before the Giant of the Great Wind in her soft silvery green garments embroidered with pearls and diamonds. The big heart of the Giant of the Great Wind was touched at her beauty and at her grief.

“O Giant of the Great Wind,” said the Spring Princess, as he gently raised her from her knees before him, “I am the daughter of the Giantess of the Great River. I have lost my mother. I have searched for her through all the earth and now I have come to you for help. Can you tell me anything about where she is and how I can find her?”

The Giant of the Great Wind put on his thinking cap. He thought hard. “Your mother is in the power of a land giant who has imprisoned her,” he said. “I happen to know all about the affair. I passed that way only yesterday. I’ll gladly go with you and help you get her home. We’ll start at once.”

The Giant of the Great Wind took the Spring Princess back to earth on his swift horses. Then he stormed the castle of the land giant who had imprisoned the Giantess of the Great River. The Spring Princess dug quietly beneath the castle walls to the dungeon where her mother was confined. You may be sure that her mother was overjoyed to see her.

When the Spring Princess had led her mother safely outside the castle walls she thanked the Giant of the Great Wind for all he had done to help her. Then the Giantess of the Great River and the Spring Princess hastened back to the wonderful palace of mother-of-pearl set with gold and silver and precious stones, where the Great River runs into the Sea. As soon as she had safely reached there once more the Spring Princess suddenly remembered that she had stayed away from her home in the palace of the Sun Giant longer than the three months she was supposed to stay according to the agreement. She at once said good-bye to her mother and hastened to the home of the Sun Giant, her husband, and to her baby son.

Now the Sun Giant had been very much worried at first when the three months had passed and the Spring Princess had not come back to him and her little son. Then he became angry. He became so angry that he married another princess. The new wife discharged the nurses who were taking care of the tiny son of the Spring Princess and put him in the kitchen just as if he had been a little black slave baby.

When the Spring Princess arrived at the palace of the Sun Giant the very first person she saw was her own little son, so dirty and neglected that she hardly recognized him. Then she found out all that had happened in her absence.

The Spring Princess quickly seized her child and clasped him tight in her arms. Then she fled to the depths of the sea, and wept, and wept, and wept. The waters of the sea rose so high that they reached even to the palace of the Sun Giant. They covered the palace, and the Sun Giant, his new wife, and all the court entirely disappeared from view. For forty days the face of the Sun Giant was not seen upon the earth. The little son of the Spring Princess grew up to be the Giant of the Rain. In the rainy season and the season of thunder showers he rules upon the earth. He sends upon the earth such tears as the Spring Princess shed in the depths of the seas.


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The Lords of the Forest

A lazy man neglects offerings to the forest lords, leading to poor harvests and a weakening fever. Warned by a sorcerer-priest, he repents and recovers but later lapses again. Enraged, the forest lords abduct his son, raising him in the wild. As an adult, the son defies their command by marrying. On his wedding night, the lords reclaim him, and he vanishes forever.

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

Divine Punishment: The man’s neglect of offerings leads to his illness and the abduction of his son by the forest lords, reflecting retribution from higher powers for transgressions.

Family Dynamics: The abduction of the man’s son and his eventual return, coupled with the condition imposed by the forest lords, highlight complex familial relationships and obligations.

Conflict with Authority: The son’s decision to marry, defying the forest lords’ command, illustrates a challenge to oppressive powers and the repercussions of such defiance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Maya people


Once upon a time there was a man who was too lazy and ignorant to make his offering to the lords of the forest that he might have a good harvest of corn.

As a result his crops were always poor, and eventually the lords of the forest visited on him a wind (weakening fever).

Greatly alarmed, he called in the local Hmen (sorcerer- priest), who told him that his visitation was a result of his neglect of the lords of the forest, and he would only recover if he promised to amend, and make his offerings in future.

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The man promised, and accordingly rapidly recovered. However, a few years later he again began to neglect his annual offerings in the milpa. Then the lords of the forest were indeed filled with wrath, and awaiting an opportunity they stole his young son, and, taking him to their home in the depth of the forest, they brought him up among themselves.

When the boy had become a young man, they sent him back to the human world, on condition that he should never have relations with a human woman. But after a while the young man married a girl.

On their marriage night he had just shut the door of the hut when he heard a series of long low whistles. Now every one knows that that is the way the lords of the forest let human beings know of their presence, but the boy, as he had been away from human beings most of his life, did not know this.

Accordingly he stepped out of the hut to see what was the matter. The lords of the forest immediately seized him and carried him away with them.

Since then he has never been seen by human eyes.


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How the Giants Were Worsted

In Salana, wisdom flourished as mothers entrusted infants to the mystical Santa Chich. Villagers traded in lowland forests, facing three man-eating giants along the route. An old man from Santiago outwitted the giants using cunning and a stick, thwarting their brujeria tricks and killing them. Though imprisoned by Zicnic, the mountain’s owner, the old man escaped using his own mystical powers, returning safely to his village.

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: The old man uses his wit and cunning to outsmart the giants.

Cunning and Deception: The narrative centers on the use of cleverness to overcome adversaries.

Conflict with Authority: The old man challenges and escapes from Zicnic, the authoritative figure who imprisons him.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Maya people


Around Salana the people used to be very wise, as when they were five days old their mothers used to take them to the side of a mountain and leave them there some time to be suckled by the Santa Chich (the wife of Mam). The people used to go down from the mountains into the forests of the lowlands to trade goods, but there were three giants, who lived on the road, and used to levy tribute and kill the people, and eat them by the riverside.

An old man from the village, which is called Santiago, went that way. On the way he killed a vulture. When he got to where the giants lived, they stopped him and demanded food.

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“I have no tortillas,” he told them, “but here is meat,” giving them the vulture which he had already cooked. Now these giants had their own star, and they could only do brujeria when it came above the horizon. Later the star appeared, and they asked the old man if he could do any brujeria. The old man said no, whereupon the giants told him that if he could not do as they did he would be killed. The first giant then went behind a hill and jumped over it. In the air he turned into a stone, but just before he reached the ground the old man hit him with a stick he carried, and the stone turned back into a giant again. The second giant also threw himself over the hill, turning into a jaguar, but again the old man nullified the trick by hitting him with his stick. The same happened with the third giant, who turned himself into a goat-like monster.

“You are no good,” cried the old man. “You cannot do brujeria,” and he killed them. When Zicnic, the owner of the mountain where the giants had lived, heard about this, he sent a messenger to have the old man imprisoned. They put him in a big cement house, and were going to kill him at midnight, but the old man with his brujeria escaped and went back to his village.


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Thadhellala

Thadhellala, a cunning and resourceful woman, embarks on a series of elaborate deceptions involving theft, trickery, and manipulation. Her schemes lead to stolen treasures, outwitting multiple pursuers, and even evading execution. Ultimately, her cleverness brings her to a distant city where, by chance, she is chosen as the new queen due to a local custom. Her story illustrates wit triumphing over adversity and relentless pursuit.

Source
Moorish Literature
   romantic ballads, tales of the Berbers,
   stories of the Kabyles, folk-lore,
   and national traditions
The Colonial Press,
   London, New York, 1901


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The story revolves around Thadhellala’s elaborate schemes and manipulations to achieve her goals.

Conflict with Authority: Thadhellala’s actions lead to confrontations with various authority figures, including the Sultan’s soldiers, as she evades capture and punishment.

Forbidden Knowledge: Thadhellala’s ability to deceive and manipulate situations suggests she possesses knowledge and skills that are not commonly known or accepted, allowing her to navigate and exploit societal norms.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Berber peoples


Translated by J. Rivière
and Chauncey C. Starkweather

A woman had seven daughters and no son. She went to the city, and there saw a rich shop. A little farther on she perceived at the door of a house a young girl of great beauty. She called her parents, and said: “I have my son to marry; let me have your daughter for him.”

They let her take the girl away. She came back to the shop and said to the man in charge of it: “I will gladly give you my daughter; but go first and consult your father.”

The young man left a servant in his place and departed. Thadhellala (that was her name) sent the servant to buy some bread in another part of the city.

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Along came a caravan of mules. Thadhellala packed all the contents of the shop on their backs and said to the muleteer:

“I will go on ahead; my son will come in a moment. Wait for him–he will pay you.”

She went off with the mules and the treasures which she had packed upon them. The servant came back soon.

“Where is your mother?” cried the muleteer; “hurry and, pay me.”

“You tell me where she is and I will make her give me back what she has stolen.” And they went before the justice.

Thadhellala pursued her way, and met seven young students. She said to one of them, “A hundred francs and I will marry you.” The student gave them to her. She made the same offer to the others, and each one took her word.

Arriving at a fork in the road, the first one said, “I will take you,” the second one said, “I will take you,” and so on to the last.

Thadhellala answered: “You shall have a race as far as that ridge over there, and the one that gets there first shall marry me.”

The young men started. Just then a horseman came passing by. “Lend me your horse,” she said to him. The horseman jumped off. Thadhellala mounted the horse and said:

“You see that ridge? I will rejoin you there.”

The scholars perceived the man. “Have you not seen a woman?” they asked him. “She has stolen 700 francs from us.”

“Haven’t you others seen her? She has stolen my horse?”

They went to complain to the Sultan, who gave the command to arrest Thadhellala. A man promised to seize her. He secured a comrade, and they both pursued Thadhellala, who had taken flight. Nearly overtaken by the man, she met a negro who pulled teeth, and said to him:

“You see my son coming down there; pull out his teeth.” When the other passed the negro pulled out his teeth. The poor toothless one seized the negro and led him before the Sultan to have him punished. The negro said to the Sultan: “It was his mother that told me to pull them out for him.”

“Sidi,” said the accuser, “I was pursuing Thadhellala.”

The Sultan then sent soldiers in pursuit of the woman, who seized her and hung her up at the gates of the city. Seeing herself arrested, she sent a messenger to her relatives.

Then there came by a man who led a mule. Seeing her he said, “How has this woman deserved to be hanged in this way?”

“Take pity on me,” said Thadhellala; “give me your mule and I will show you a treasure.” She sent him to a certain place where the pretended treasure was supposed to be hidden. At this the brother-in-law of Thadhellala had arrived.

“Take away this mule,” she said to him. The searcher for treasures dug in the earth at many places and found nothing. He came back to Thadhellala and demanded his mule.

She began to weep and cry. The sentinel ran up, and Thadhellala brought complaint against this man. She was released, and he was hanged in her place.

She fled to a far city, of which the Sultan had just then died. Now, according to the custom of that country, they took as king the person who happened to be at the gates of the city when the King died. Fate took Thadhellala there at the right time. They conducted her to the palace, and she was proclaimed Queen.


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