The inland-dwellers of Etah

A sledge near Etah discovered the dwelling of inland-dwellers, shy people terrified of dogs. When an old woman was thrust out in fear, she died upon seeing the animals. The visitors apologized, but the inland-dwellers dismissed her death as inconsequential. Terrified, they fled further inland, leaving behind empty houses. Known for their fear of dogs and swift running abilities, they now live in distant, secluded areas.

Source: 
Eskimo Folk-Tales 
collected by Knud Rasmussen 
[Copenhagen, Christiania], 1921


► Themes of the story

Conflict with Nature: The inland-dwellers’ fear of dogs and their adaptation to a secluded life highlight their struggle to coexist with natural elements and animals introduced by others.

Community and Isolation: The inland-dwellers live in seclusion, avoiding contact with outsiders. Their encounter with the sledge drivers leads them to retreat further inland, emphasizing themes of isolation and the impact of external interactions on a secluded community.

Cultural Heroes: The narrative mentions individuals like Suagaq, who bridge the gap between the inland-dwellers and the coast-folk, reflecting the role of cultural heroes in connecting and influencing different societies.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples


There came a sledge driving round to the east of Etah, up into the land, near the great lake. Suddenly the dogs scented something, and dashed off inland over a great plain. Then they checked, and sniffed at the ground. And now it was revealed that they were at the entrance to an inland-dweller’s house.

The inland-dwellers screamed aloud with fear when they saw the dogs, and thrust out an old woman, but hurried in themselves to hide. The old woman died of fright when she saw the dogs.

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Now the man went in, very ill at ease because he had caused the death of the old woman.

“It is a sad thing,” he said, “that I should have caused you to lose that old one.”

“It is nothing,” answered the inland-dwellers; “her skin was already wrinkled; it does not matter at all.”

Then the sledges drove home again, but the inland-dwellers were so terrified that they fled far up into the country.

Since then they have never been seen. The remains of their houses were all that could be found, and when men dug to see if anything else might be there, they found nothing but a single narwhal tusk.

The inland-dwellers are not really dangerous, they are only shy, and very greatly afraid of dogs. There was a woman of the coast-folk, Suagaq, who took a husband from among the inland folk, and when that husband came to visit her brothers, the blood sprang from his eyes at sight of their dogs.

And they train themselves to become swift runners, that they may catch foxes. When an inland-dweller is to become a swift runner, they stuff him into the skin of a ribbon seal, which is filled with worms, leaving only his head free. Then the worms suck all his blood, and this, they say, makes him very light on his feet.

There are still some inland-dwellers left, but they are now gone very far up inland.


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The two friends who set off to travel round the world

Two men set out to travel the world, each taking a musk-ox horn cup carved from the same beast, journeying separately to meet again one day. As years passed, they aged, had children, and their children grew old. When they finally reunited, only the handles of their cups remained. Reflecting on their journey, they marveled at the vastness of the world and the passage of time.

Source: 
Eskimo Folk-Tales 
collected by Knud Rasmussen 
[Copenhagen, Christiania], 1921


► Themes of the story

Quest: The protagonists embark on a journey to explore the world, aiming to share their experiences upon return.

Time and Timelessness: The narrative emphasizes the passage of time, highlighting how the friends age and generations pass during their travels.

Community and Isolation: The friends travel separately, experiencing isolation, yet their eventual reunion underscores the enduring bond of friendship and shared experiences.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Inuit peoples


Once there were two men who desired to travel round the world, that they might tell others what was the manner of it.

This was in the days when men were still many on the earth, and there were people in all the lands. Now we grow fewer and fewer. Evil and sickness have come upon men. See how I, who tell this story, drag my life along, unable to stand upon my feet.

The two men who were setting out had each newly taken a wife, and had as yet no children.

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They made themselves cups of musk-ox horn, each making a cup for himself from one side of the same beast’s head. And they set out, each going away from the other, that they might go by different ways and meet again some day. They travelled with sledges, and chose land to stay and live upon each summer.

It took them a long time to get round the world; they had children, and they grew old, and then their children also grew old, until at last the parents were so old that they could not walk, but the children led them.

And at last one day, they met — and of their drinking horns there was but the handle left, so many times had they drunk water by the way, scraping the horn against the ground as they filled them.

“The world is great indeed,” they said when they met.

They had been young at their starting, and now they were old men, led by their children.

Truly the world is great.


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Another tale from East Greenland

A widow and her son, Kongajuk, faced neglect and hunger from their housemates. After the widow’s death, the ailing Kongajuk was left alone, hearing eerie grave sounds. The spirits of his mother, father, and others emerged, taking him to join them in their otherworldly realm. The tale intertwines themes of suffering, abandonment, and reunion in the afterlife.

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


► Themes of the story

Underworld Journey: Kongajuk is visited by the spirits of his deceased family members, who take him to their otherworldly realm, indicating a journey into the afterlife.

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on Kongajuk’s relationship with his mother and father, highlighting themes of familial neglect and eventual reunion in the afterlife.

Community and Isolation: Kongajuk and his mother experience neglect and isolation from their community, leading to their suffering and abandonment.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Abridged version of the story.

A widow and her son were despised by their housemates, and suffered want of food.

At last she died, and the child, named Kongajuk, being very sick, was left alone in the house.

There it heard the bones of the graves rattling, and in came its mother, leading another child in her hand, and afterwards its father, accompanied by other deceased people, who took Kongajuk along with them to their abodes.

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The inhabitants of Akilinek

Iviangersook, a traveler, eventually settled in Akilinek, leaving descendants. Years later, northerners crossing the ice encountered a distant crevice and exchanged words with people identifying as Iviangersook’s descendants. Both groups alternated listing the products of their homesteads, fostering a connection despite the separation. This interaction highlights enduring ties across vast distances and the legacy of shared lineage.

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


► Themes of the story

Ancestral Spirits: The narrative emphasizes the enduring connection between Iviangersook’s descendants and their ancestors, highlighting the influence of lineage across generations.

Echoes of the Past: The encounter between the northerners and Iviangersook’s descendants underscores how historical deeds and ancestral ties continue to impact and resonate in the present.

Community and Isolation: The story contrasts the separation of the groups by physical distance with their efforts to establish a sense of community through the exchange of information about their homesteads.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Abridged version of the story.

Iviangersook, while travelling far and wide for some time, settled down in Akilinek, leaving descendants there.

Many years after, some people from the farthest north, in crossing the ice, came to a crevice far off the coast, and had some talk with people who appeared on the opposite side and announced themselves as Iviangersook’s descendants in Akilinek.

The countrymen from each side alternately enumerated all the products of their homesteads.

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Isigarsigak

Isigarsigak and his younger brother journeyed north, enduring harsh winters and joining friendly locals. They later voyaged to Akilinek, a land abundant with reindeer. After a lively singing match, Isigarsigak returned home, leaving his brother behind. Over generations, he became a beloved elder, sharing songs and bird calls. His remarkable longevity inspired awe, though his brother’s fate remained unknown, linking their people to Akilinek.

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


► Themes of the story

Quest: Their journey northward in search of new lands and experiences embodies the classic quest motif.

Transformation: Isigarsigak’s evolution into a revered elder, sharing songs and wisdom, reflects personal growth and change.

Community and Isolation: The brothers’ integration into new communities, contrasted with Isigarsigak’s eventual return home and his brother’s unknown fate, highlights the dynamics of belonging and separation.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Isigarsigak and his younger brother once set out on a journey northwards, and did not stop till the frost forced them to set themselves for the winter before they had reached their goal. Not till the middle of next summer did they arrive at their place of destination, where they found a number of people all friendly and well inclined; and therefore they resolved to pass the next winter with them. Winter went by as usual; but when spring came round, some of the people at times would say, “At midsummer-time we shall no doubt again see the dark stripe.” This implied the intention of going a trip to Akilinek (the country beyond the ocean); but the strangers did not understand their meaning.

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One day a man came up to Isigarsigak saying, “We all of us intend to go a voyage out seawards to Akilinek; with that view thou wouldst do well to gather skins for a double coating to thy boat.” He followed this advice; and when all had got their boats new coverings, he noticed that every morning the inhabitants mounted the top of a hill to take a survey of the ocean. Sometimes he joined them, and then they used to say, “Much as we long to be off, we dare not risk it yet.” But at length the rattling noise of the tent-poles woke him one morning, and when he saw the others had almost finished carrying their things down to the boats, he hastened to pull down his tent; and being also ready, the boats started. They stood to sea at once; and when the outer covers got wet and began to slacken their speed, they cut their fastenings and cast them off. Isigarsigak dropped astern a little, and had almost given up hope of seeing land again, when suddenly he heard land-shouts ahead of him. As he listened again, he could make out that they cried, “The broad dark stripe;” and presently he saw it looming out, and when he rose and stood upright he beheld a broad expanse of land. The travellers now broke out into exulting shouts that they had reached the opposite shore without a gale, and on coming close to the land they found it abounding with reindeer. They moored their boats, and at once went off shooting, but Isigarsigak and his brother slew the greatest number. They decided on staying at this place for a sea-son. Some time after there was heard a cry of “Boats.” Isigarsigak went out and saw a great number coming down from the north. These travellers also took up their quarters there; but Isigarsigak did not care to assist them, and remained in his tent. Before long, however, there was a cry at the entrance, “Isigarsigak and his brother are called upon to come out for a singing match” (nith-songs or satirical songs). Although Isigarsigak had no idea of singing, they made themselves smart and went outside. They saw an enormous crowd of people all going up hill, the men in front, the women following. As soon as they were seen there was another shout, “Let the men from East step forward.” The brother of Isigarsigak first performed a dance and retired. Isigarsigak himself was now summoned, but as he did not know much about either singing or dancing he proposed to his wife to advance, who was so smart and clever that nobody could match her.

The brother of Isigarsigak being unmarried now took a wife in this place; but as his brothers-in-law came to like him uncommonly well they would not allow him to leave them. The year being far advanced, they all prepared to cross to their own land, giving their boats new covers. Though Isigarsigak had been greatly attached to his brother, and did not like the idea of leaving him, he wished to die in his own country, and therefore made ready to follow his countrymen. At length they started; but a little way off land Isigarsigak said to his people, “It occurs to me that I forgot to divide our healing remedy (viz., amulet for health and longevity). What a pity! we shall have to go back.” Accordingly they went back and unpacked the things again. Opening an old box he produced something like a small bit of coal from a fireplace — this being an amulet given to him and his brother in common. He broke it into two pieces, and gave one of them to his brother. The boat was again loaded, and steering right out to sea, he turned round to see the last of his brother, who stood watching them on the beach in his white reindeer jacket. They were never to meet again, so he did not take his eyes off him till he was quite lost to sight.

The boats safely reached their own shore without encountering any storm. Isigarsigak now began seal-hunting with his children, but in time these grew old and died successively. Then he went out in company with his grandchildren, as yet without losing strength himself. It was not till his grandchildren were getting aged that he began to feel a little less handy himself. He was much beloved by his grandchildren, and they often went with him to a craggy reddish cliff, a favourite spot of his, where a number of gulls had built their nests, and the grandchildren’s children would call to him, saying, “Here we are at thy favourite cliff; do sing to us.” He had a fine voice, and could also imitate the cries of birds, which delighted the urchins beyond everything. This generation also died, and their children became his companions; but his grandchildren’s grandchildren had to carry him in a boat, and to treat him like a child. His strong frame had now grown thin and shrunk like that of a baby; he ate almost nothing, and to know whether he still breathed they used to hold a bit of down before his nose. In passing by the bird’s-cliff they would say, “Now we are at thy favourite spot; do sing a song:” and listening sharply, they could hear a small feeble sound like the cry of a bird. At length he began to suck his coverlet; and one day when they came to take him out as usual, they observed that the feather before his mouth did not stir; he had breathed his last. Isigarsigak never had his like with regard to old age in this country (Greenland); he got quite as old as Nivnitak. His younger brother may even have outlived him, but he had never been heard of. It is through him that we are related to the people of Akilinek.


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The deserted woman and her foster-daughter

A woman and her foster-daughter, abandoned by a seal-hunter, struggle for survival in an empty village. Using magic, the woman summons sea creatures for food, saving them from starvation. Their fortunes improve until the magic fails after they share provisions with a visiting relative. Rescued by this kind man, they join him at his home, where they live out their days in safety and comfort.

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


► Themes of the story

Conflict with Nature: The woman and her foster-daughter struggle to survive in the harsh Arctic environment after being abandoned, relying on their resourcefulness and the natural world to sustain themselves.

Magic and Enchantment: The woman uses magic to summon sea creatures for food, demonstrating the influence of supernatural elements in their survival.

Community and Isolation: The protagonists experience profound isolation after being deserted by their community, highlighting the challenges and resilience required to endure solitude.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


A woman, who had no brothers or sisters, lived with a little foster-daughter at the house of a great seal-hunter. The daughter was very docile, and always obeyed at the least word. Once, during spring, all the people belonging to the place went away fishing. The chief hunter only lingered behind, harbouring wicked intentions.

One calm morning he went outside the house and re-entered, saying, “Pack up your things; we must be ready to start.” They now made all speed, and the lonely woman was not the least busy among them — she worked away as she never did before.

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When she had put her own poor bundles into the boat she hurried up for her ledge-cover; but when she came outside again, she observed the foster-daughter still standing on shore watching their master closely; and when she herself came down he leaped into the boat, and shoving off, called out to them, “Ye only eat our food; we won’t take you along.” So saying, their housemates turned their backs upon them, and got under way. The poor creatures, whose scanty belongings had all been put into the boat excepting the ledge-cover, on seeing the boat depart, faced each other in blank despair, and then burst into tears. However, when the boat was out of sight, the widow wiped her eyes, and said, “Never mind, my dear; we must just do without them.” But the child was not so easily consoled. When at length she stopped crying, her mother said, “Let us go and find out a house to make our home.” They went through all the deserted huts, but everywhere the walls were bare and the hangings removed, till at length they came into one without windows, where the skins still hung on the walls, and the old one said, “Here, in the southern corner, we’ll take up our quarters.” She at once proceeded to make a room of suitable size, dividing it from the rest of the house with the skins. This done, she continued, “Let us now go outside and try to find something to eat at the flensing-place.” She took the child by her hand, and they soon found some small bits of blubber and skin, which they greedily devoured, having had no food the whole day. After this meal they lay down to rest, but were unable to sleep because of the cold. The next day, after a similar search, they found the entrails of an entire seal. After this, however, they found nothing more, and had only the entrails to live upon.

It was just when the herds of seals are passing along the coast that their stock of entrails was exhausted. One morning, having taken a small morsel, they noticed that there was only a bit left for their supper at night. Then the widow said to her daughter, “Child, thou art more strong and active than I: thou must go and dig a hole over yonder beneath the window-ledge.” The daughter obeyed at once, and began to dig up the loose earth. When she had finished, the mother repeated, “Thou art more brisk and active than I: run away and fill the hole with water.” The daughter continued fetching water from the sea, and before evening the hole was filled. That evening they took their last bit of food, and went to rest, but without being able to sleep. In the early morning the mother said, “I shall probably not succeed; still I think I will try to procure something (by magic).” The daughter did not like the idea, nor did she believe in it; but the mother rejoined, “When I commence my incantation, as I repeat it again and again, thou must listen attentively.” She soon began, and as she went through it, warned her daughter to attend well. The child listened, and presently heard a splash: on which she exclaimed, “Mother dear, there is something moving in the water.” When the old woman told her to see what it was, she ran off to look, and seeing a little frog-fish, called out, “Ah, mother, it is a frog-fish!” The mother told her to kill it with the old grindstone (probably an amulet). The little girl obeyed, and the fish was boiled and cut in two, putting aside one-half for their evening meal. Next morning the mother repeated her incantation, and they got a nepisak-fish (Cyclopterus lumpus); the next day, in the same way, an eider-duck — and so on the following days, a firth-seal, a saddleback-seal, a small dolphin, a white whale, and at last a narwal. When she had done flensing the captured animals, the following day large quantities of different kinds of provisions were heaped up outside the house. Towards evening they went to the top of a rock sloping south to cut the flesh in thin slices for drying. While there engaged the daughter exclaimed, “I almost think I see a kayak coming in;” and in this she was quite right. The lonely woman had one relative, a very aged man; and this poor fellow, having lately heard of the manner in which she had been abandoned and left in an empty house, now came to see if she had not starved to death, bringing with him a frog-fish as a gift in case she was still alive. When he saw the flensing-place all red with blood he could not believe his own eyes, but thought it all a delusion. And when he observed the two women standing on the rock and slicing large pieces of flesh for drying, and when they afterwards came running down to receive him, he accosted them, “Here am I, expecting to find you starved to death: I actually came to bury you.” She answered him, “Silly old thing thou art! just get thee out of thy kayak, and partake of our good fare here.” The poor old man went ashore, but tasted nothing till he had pulled his kayak properly up on the beach. The women had meanwhile boiled him a nice dish. He took his fill for once; and when he wanted to start they stuffed his kayak with such a supply that it was almost ready to sink. On leaving he said, “As it is, there is no fear of your starving to death; when all your provisions are ready prepared I shall come to fetch you off.” When he was gone they went to rest, and the morning after she again made ready to practise her art. However, she chanted and invoked, and chanted again, and the daughter watched and listened as usual, but neither breathing nor splashing was heard. The reason was that they had taken offence at her having made the gifts over to other people; and from that time upwards she never succeeded in calling forth anything. When her magic spell had wholly lost its effect, and she had finished drying her stock of flesh, her poor old relative came and fetched her off to his own homestead, and there she remained the rest of her days with him.


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Arnarsarsuak, the kivigtok woman

Arnarsarsuak, once a courted beauty, fled to the wilderness after overhearing her sisters-in-law mock her unborn child. She gave birth to a child and a mythical creature, becoming an outcast. Later, she rejoined a pair of orphans and married one, bearing human children and bear cubs. Her family thrived, blending human and animal bonds, and found acceptance in a settlement where her sons married, securing happiness and legacy.

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


► Themes of the story

Transformation: Arnarsarsuak undergoes significant changes, both in her societal status and through the birth of her unique offspring, blending human and animal characteristics.

Community and Isolation: Initially part of her community, Arnarsarsuak becomes an outcast due to her circumstances, living in isolation before eventually reintegrating into society with her new family.

Supernatural Beings: The birth of a mythical creature and bear cubs to Arnarsarsuak introduces elements of the supernatural, highlighting interactions between humans and otherworldly entities.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Arnarsarsuak was a pretty girl, much courted by the best seal-hunters of the neighbourhood. Her brothers being unwilling to let her get married, she at length took up with a fellow and lived with him as his concubine. Before long she was with child, but notwithstanding, her brothers still continued loving her dearly. One day she had been out to fetch water, and at the very moment she was about to enter she chanced to hear her sisters-in-law within talking about her, saying to each other, “I wonder who ever will care to be troubled with the charge of that wretch Arnarsarsuak is going to give birth to.” On hearing these words, she at once put down her pails in the passage, and ran off far to the inland, away from humankind.

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During her flight she perceived that the time had come when she should be delivered; she fell into a deep swoon, and on recovering found she had given birth to a kingulerak [an anghiak who remained attached to the mother on account of her being kivigtok, until she had revenged herself]. Formerly, in the days of her prosperity, she had been kind and charitable to two orphan children, a boy and a girl, who lived among them. Many years after, when Arnarsarsuak’s brothers were all dead, the two orphans took up their abode at a solitary place out on some far away islands. When the brother was following his trade in his kayak the sister felt miserably lonely; to make up for which, however, when he again returned she felt as if the house were full of visitors. One evening when they were sitting chatting together, the brother suddenly said, “I think I shall try to recall the song that Arnarsarsuak used to sing.” But the sister advised him rather to desist, saying, “Remember that Arnarsarsuak now belongs to those of uncommon kind, having fled from mankind during her pregnancy. I have heard that such people have the gift of hearing their own songs a long way off.” However, the brother would not give up his intention; but no sooner had he commenced singing than a voice was heard outside, “On hearing my song I could not resist coming, and here I am.” The brother and sister looked at each other in great alarm, knowing that their house was far away from any one. However, they soon recognised the voice to be Arnarsarsuak’s, on which the sister resumed, “Did not I tell thee she would be sure to hear thee singing? now go and answer, thou being the best talker of us.” The brother, however, did not stir; and the voice was again heard, “Ye need not be afraid of me; I only want to get inside.” Seeing her brother could find no words, the sister said, “Well, come in;” and presently a sound was heard of something creeping along the passage, while the two shrank back on the ledge in silence, with a sure foreboding that the next moment they would be frightened to death. The sound rapidly approached; they only ventured a timid glance towards the entrance, and immediately after Arnarsarsuak entered, prettier than ever, and said, “I was lately far from this place, in the interior, whence I was suddenly lured by some voice calling me hither.” The sister now took courage to say, “It was only for a pastime he tried to sing thy lay.” Arnarsarsuak continued, “Ye know why I fled; it was because I heard my sisters-in-law observing that no one would be found willing to provide for my poor offspring. On that day I ran far off into the interior, when I was soon to give birth to a kingulerak, which ever since adhered to my body till a few days ago. In my present state ye have nothing to fear from me, and I would be very glad to come and stay with you.” Seeing that they had no choice, and could not get rid of her, they allowed her room on the farthest end of the ledge, and themselves lay down, leaving a wide space between them; still they were quite unable to fall asleep. The following day the brother wanted to go out hunting; his sister, however, persuaded him to stay at home on account of her new housemate, whom they still considered rather a doubtful personage. On the ensuing day he went out kayaking, but kept so near to the house as not to lose sight of them for any length of time. In the evening, however, he returned, bringing with him two seals, and the sister at once ran down as usual to flense and cut up the animals, but Arnarsarsuak would not allow it, taking all the work on herself; and having quickly flensed both seals, she made up a fire, and while she did the cooking she sewed at the same time. As time went by, and their fears subsided, the brother resolved to marry her; but when she came to be pregnant the sister began to fear she would bear no human offspring, and in that case she said, “Whither am I to flee? seeing we live on an island, I can only rush down to the sea.” When her time had come, the brother as well as the sister determined to run away from the house; but when the brother turned back to have a last look through the window, his wife turned towards him, saying, “It is all over, and the birth has taken place. Do not fear, but come in to me.” On hearing this he hastened to bring his sister back. When they returned, Arnarsarsuak sat smiling kindly on them, and said, “Behold the object of your fears, my two babes.” She then showed them a little bear cub and a real child. Both were nursed together, and when the bear had begun to go about by himself she again bore a child and another little bear.

In due time the father gave his boys kayaks, and the bears of their own account went out for provender; and at length the father could afford to take things easy, and rest from work. Subsequently he proposed that they should all set out together in search of other people, thinking that the children ought not to live always at such a desolate place. Accordingly they started northwards, the sons following in their kayaks, while the bears kept swimming alongside the boat. Travelling on thus, they at length came in sight of a well-peopled place; on this the bears stuck closer to the boat, and out of bashfulness only papped their muzzles above water. The father remarked, “Don’t be ashamed; remember ye also are of human extraction.” However, on landing a little south of the settlement they were received by a number of people, who on seeing two large bears ran off for their weapons. But on the father calling to them, “What are you thinking of? they also are my children,” they desisted. The new-comers took up their winter quarters at this place, where the sons both got married, and all lived happy together. When the weather was too bad for the men to go out hunting, the bears went off in their stead. After wintering there they again broke up for their old home, and were joined by several people of the place, who accompanied them thither, where their bones now rest.


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Kigutikak who was carried off by the whalers

This curious story appears to be founded upon a real event, one of the numerous acts of violence committed by the first European visitors to Greenland. If we wish to appreciate properly these reminiscences of the original account given by Kigutikak on his return home, we must take into consideration first the manner in which he probably was treated by his European keepers, merely as an object of curiosity and jokes; next, the difficulty he had in explaining his strange experiences and adventures to his countrymen, who had seen nothing but Greenland; and lastly, the continued endeavours at localising and adaptation by which succeeding narrators have altered it, until it became capable of being understood by every assembly in Greenland, merely as an object of entertainment, without needing any further explanation. From this point of view the tale will be found interesting and instructive with regard to the notions of the natives, and the development of traditions in general.

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: Kigutikak and his brother are forcibly taken by European whalers, highlighting a power struggle and the imposition of foreign dominance.

Community and Isolation: The brothers are isolated from their homeland and people, emphasizing themes of alienation and the challenges of being separated from one’s community.

Cultural Heroes: Kigutikak’s experiences and his eventual return home may position him as a figure of resilience and survival, embodying the traits of a cultural hero who endures hardships imposed by external forces.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


In former times when European ships used to come to the Ameralik shore, the whalers and natives met for trading. Once a whaler warned Kigutikak and his brother: “Ye had better beware of approaching my countrymen yonder; they intend some evil.” One day Kigutikak had got some gifts from the sailors; his brother, on seeing this, envied his good luck; and gathering some of his goods for barter, went off to the malevolent whalers. Kigutikak also collected some trifles and followed his brother; but when the brother approached the ship, a well-manned boat came off to meet him. They seized him and hoisted him on deck, kayak and all.

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Kigutikak having shared the same fate, the ship weighed anchor and stood out to sea. When fairly clear of land, the wind rose and the sea ran high; once a great wave came sweeping the deck, and the sailors all rushed below for safety. Kigutikak alone remained on deck, and as the sea washed over, he took firm hold of the gunwale. Except a small space where Kigutikak had planted himself, the sea carried away every part of the gunwale with a loud crash; and when the sailors appeared on deck they could not but see that he had been in great danger. Afterwards, when the storm had passed, and they had made a good distance off the land, which was now out of sight, it blew another gale. This time the sailors persuaded him to go below with them before they shipped another sea. Approaching their own country they shortened sail, although the wind was fair, lest it should be known whom they had brought with them. Only at midnight they stood in for the land and anchored. People on shore were heard to call out, “The trading ships are coming.” At this news all the houses were quickly illuminated, and afterwards the seamen were invited to come on shore, but the captain would not leave the ship before next morning. The following day he went on shore, taking the Kalaleks (Greenlanders) with him. People having got news of their presence, gathered like gnats in great swarms to catch sight of them. In the boat the captain gave orders to them saying, “When I am going among people on shore, ye must not be staring about you, but keep your eyes fixed on my heels; if ye don’t mind my words, and take your eyes off my heels, ye are sure to be lost in the throng;” and they answered him, “Well, we will follow thee closely.” On landing there was not a spot to plant their feet, such was the crowd. At last a soldier appeared and undertook to clear a passage for them by dividing the masses, and following in his wake they managed to get through. Arriving at the captain’s house the brother of Kigutikak was missing; in looking round he had lost his way, but had fortunately been picked up by some other great man, with whom he remained. When Kigutikak entered with the captain, they found his wife moody and sulking — fancy the idea! she had a fit of jealousy. However, when the captain produced a doll from his pocket, and put it on the table before her, her good temper was somewhat restored. During Kigutikak’s stay at their house, one day as he was going out to the privy, on getting outside he was somewhat surprised by two big Europeans menacing him from either side with their long swords. Greatly alarmed, he ventured to tell his master. His master forthwith gave him a bit of a rope with a large knob at one end, saying, “Now go and open the door and hit away among them with all thy might;” and having taken the rope’s end he did as he was told, hitting right and left without ever looking at them. Having thus cleared a way for himself, and being again ready to enter, he saw them peeping round a corner of the house, covering their faces with a handkerchief, for in lashing them with the rope he had sorely hurt their eyes. His master merely said, it served them quite right. During his stay at the captain’s house, Kigutikak sometimes went out to chase partridges. On one of these excursions he happened to meet a great big European who wanted to kill him, but he forestalled him and killed him instead; and in order that no one should find out the deed, he buried him on the spot, and afterwards made the gravel quite smooth on the top. At home he put on an unconcerned air, as if nothing at all had happened. The next day he encountered another big Kavdlunak, who had the same bad fortune; but on meeting one on the same road the third day, whom he was just about to despatch, he suddenly in time recognised his brother. After having questioned each other about various matters, they both fell a-weeping, and then Kigutikak asked his brother where he had come to live. The brother answered him, “My present master is a very grand gentleman; in following you the other day I only turned to look about once, but from that instant losing sight of you, I was happily taken up by him, and am there in want of nothing.” When Kigutikak told him what had become of the two big Kavdlunait, the brother rejoined that the other day, on a similar provocation, he had acted the same way. The brother then agreed to meet the next day after the following, whereat they parted and each returned to his place. At the next encounter Kigutikak exclaimed, “What a lot of money I have got!” and the brother replied, “The same have I.” And they began to deliberate whether by adding the money together they could not buy a ship with it. The brother decided that it would not be a bad plan and should be carried out, and thus they parted. At home Kigutikak took his master into counsel, asking him, “Could we not put our money together and buy a ship, my brother and I? Pray count it over.” “Why, ye have plenty to get one for,” his master gave answer; and Kigutikak soon proceeded to carry out his plan, finding materials and hiring the workmen. The hull being finished in spring-time, he began to talk to his master about the masts. “They are easily got,” he answered; “a little south of this is a place with many straight and tall trees, just the thing for masts:” and when the time for his departure arrived his master added, “But mark my words: when you cut trees, have great care in looking about on all sides and listen attentively. If you happen to hear any noise, then flee at once, and if you think the way hither too long, betake yourself to a steep rock a little to the north, and there you will find people.” He promised to remember this piece of advice; and starting for the forest he at length reached it. He soon found out the highest and most beautiful trees, and very cautiously began to cut them down; but when he was about to fell the second one, he fancied he saw another tree moving, and at the same time heard a noise, but did not take any notice of either as long as he saw nothing (although he had been warned beforehand). No sooner had he caught sight of a horrid beast emerging from among the trees, than he flung down his axe and took to running with all his might. On turning round he plainly saw that the beast was gaining upon him, and his master’s home being too far off, he retreated towards the cave, which opened all of itself, and closed in the same manner as soon as he had got within, and almost instantly he heard the pursuing beast bounding against the door with a terrible roar. Inside the cave he found a lot of dissolute women, with whom he remained without caring much for getting home. As time passed and he did not return, his master supposed him to have been devoured by the wild beast; but at that very time he was preparing for his departure, having first had his pockets filled with money by the women as a recompense for having slept with them. On his way home he first repaired to the forest to cut down the second tree and fetch off the tools, and then returned to his master. On seeing him enter, the latter exclaimed, “I thought the wild beast had made thee his prey; where hast thou been all this while?” He answered him, “I was with the solitary women in the cave; they made themselves very pleasant towards me.” The master replied, “Oh, that’s just what they always do; when once one gets in to them, it is no easy matter to free one’s self from them and get away.”

When the ship had been masted and was ready for sea, it was put into the water, and two men set to work loading it; but on going to leave port, they were only three for the ship all told — viz., the brothers and a cook. At this time the brother unfortunately fell ill, and, getting worse and worse, at length died, whereupon Kigutikak set on fire and burned his ship, and buried all his stores in the sea. This was about the usual time of departure for the whalers going to Greenland. His master said, “Thou art sad and low-spirited; a walk would be a change and diversion for thee.” They set out, and arriving at a small lake, found a boat moored off the shore; in this they rowed across to the other side, and soon reaching another lake and a small boat, they crossed this in the same manner, and then proceeded to the next lake, where they likewise found a boat, such being the regular means of conveyance for travellers going this way. Having moored the last boat and proceeded on their way, they soon arrived at a town in the middle part of the country, where they entered a house to get refreshments. Whilst they were eating, they heard a cry, “The whalers are leaving! the whalers are off!” At this news Kigutikak started, and leaving his meal unfinished, he sped down and unmoored the boat, his master following at a little distance. He travelled back across the lakes all by himself, his master being continually somewhat behind. When Kigutikak at last reached the main harbour, he heard that the whaling ships were all gone, excepting one, whose crew had just gone ashore to undo the cables. Kigutikak was just in time to jump into the boat and get on board. His master, who all this time had been unable to keep pace with him, was now calling to the sailors to take good care of him, and watch him closely during their stay in Greenland.

After a voyage of many days, they got sight of the southern point of the land; and from that time Kigutikak would no more undress himself; he wanted to make use of his time and collect as many odd bits of old iron as he could with which to stuff his pockets before leaving the Europeans. As soon as he recognised his own country, and the places where he used to live, he proposed to the sailors to land and go out partridge-shooting. To this they consented, but without leaving him alone for a single moment, fearing he would either be lost or run off for his home. Kigutikak then told them, “Ye need not fear my being lost, but just go after your game;” and so they left him for a short time. No sooner had they turned their backs upon him than he hid himself in a deep cleft; and immediately after he heard them shouting for him, and saying to each other, “We were charged to keep a good watch over him, and it will be a bad job for us if he is not found.” As soon as he thought them sufficiently far off, he emerged and proceeded onwards. Having wandered a long while, he observed a steep rock, and began to descend it. Half-way down, he was somewhat perplexed at finding himself utterly unable either to advance or retreat. At length he determined to ease himself of all the things he had carried away in his pockets, and slid down the rest of the way. He proceeded still further, and came in sight of a great many tents. Seeing him approach, people came running and crying aloud, “Kigutikak is coming!” and then all the rest hastened out to have a look at him. He asked them in the Kavdlunak language, “Where is my family?” but they could not understand him. Asking them in their own language, however, their place of abode was pointed out to him. His own people had long ago given him up, and since then an old bachelor had undertaken to provide for them. Kigutikak rewarded him by allowing him to choose himself some trifles among the pieces of iron he had brought along with him.


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Salik the Kivigtok

Salik journeyed northward, enduring harsh winters in solitude. Returning to a deserted house for an axe, he encountered a mysterious man who shared tales of his childhood, survival, and encounters with strange creatures. The man revealed his solitary life of foraging, running, and meeting enigmatic visitors. Parting with Salik, he vanished swiftly, leaving a vivid impression that Salik often recounted.

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


► Themes of the story

Underworld Journey: Salik’s venture into the deserted house and his encounter with the mysterious man symbolize a descent into an unknown or otherworldly realm, akin to an underworld journey.

Supernatural Beings: The enigmatic man Salik meets, who possesses extraordinary knowledge and abilities, represents an interaction with a supernatural being.

Community and Isolation: Both Salik and the mysterious man experience profound isolation—Salik during his solitary winter journey, and the man through his life of foraging and encounters with strange creatures—highlighting themes of loneliness and self-reliance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Salik went off to the north; and during his journey the frost set in, and cut off his passage home, and he established himself for the winter at a very solitary place. The following spring he drew still farther north. After some hours travelling, he remembered that they had left their axe fixed in one of the cross-beams of their deserted house. He at once returned and entered the dark house through the open window. Just as he was going to take hold of the axe, he heard something moving about beside the ledge, down on the floor, and on looking more closely, he caught sight of a man.

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The stranger began to whistle aloud; but soon after he spoke thus: “Though I am always aware of what is going to happen, thou hast for once chanced to take me by surprise. This is the way in which I manage: being very quick, it is my wont to go about from one place to another, picking up odd scraps and leavings after people move away to other parts.” Having delivered himself of this speech, he added, “I think it is the custom when meeting a man for the first time to ask him his name.” The former rejoined, “My name is Salik;” and the stranger said, “Why, so is mine; and since thou hast, to a certain degree, outdone me, who have never before been taken aback, I shall relate the history of my life to thee: In former times, when we were still children, we used to leave the house every morning with our father; and while he was away we used to spend the day joyfully, practising bow-shooting and making ourselves expert at flinging stones, and never thought of entering the house till he returned. Then he would say to our mother, ‘Have not they had anything to eat as yet?’ Upon which she used to put a large plate with meat before us. This was always our first meal each day, and we swallowed it greedily. But we were ten children, and therefore the plate had to be filled thrice before we were quite satisfied. One evening, when our father had come back and gone into the house, we also went inside as usual, but on entering found the manners of our parents altered. Though it was after twilight, the lamps were not lighted, but lay tumbled down on the floor, bottom up. At this sight we seated ourselves silently on the main-ledge. After a while my father turned round and said to our mother, ‘These will probably be hungry: I am not going to do like my mother’s brothers, who fled from mankind because he had been scolded by his wife.’ Our mother at first remained silent, but then bestirred herself, and in her turn replied, ‘If he had any sense at all, he would not speak in that way.’ She now put the usual dish before us. Our father partook of the meal with us; and then they began to talk to each other as if nothing had passed: my brothers and sisters were also soon quite at their ease, but I was not able to forget my mother’s harsh words, though they had not been addressed to me. I could only take one little morsel; and when the dish was filled the second time, I had not yet swallowed that. Winter passed by, and I still wondered over my mother’s speech. In spring father took us all away to the firth for angmagsat-fishing; and all were happy, and helped mother in drawing the fishes up on the beach. She used to say, ‘Now we had better stop: we might be getting too many, and have a difficulty in carrying them away before the tide sets in;’ and then we helped her in spreading them out to dry. When father brought his catch in the evening, we likewise assisted her in cutting the flesh into strips for drying. About that time the mountain-brooks burst through their ice-coverings, and father taught us to build a dyke at the outlet of the brooks, in order to stop and catch the salmon. At full tide he used to catch them in his kayak, and we from land by throwing stones at them; and when the tide was out we could easily take the fish that were stopped behind the dykes with our spears. We had all work enough in helping to carry them up to our mother and assisting her in cutting them up for drying. My brothers enjoyed that busy time; but I had not yet learned to forget those words of my mother’s, and my spirits grew more and more depressed. One day a great many salmon had been caught behind the dam we had made for them; but as father had left, and we had to lance them and bring them up to mother, I asked my brothers to do my part of the business. However, they all agreed that I was to do it myself; but on seeing my youngest brother drawing his fish on a cord, I turned to him saying, ‘I think I see a partridge yonder: pray take my lot of salmons along with thee while I pursue the bird.’ He willingly obeyed me, and I darted off; and running straight on for the interior, I never stopped my flight till nightfall. I lay down to sleep as best I might. All the summer-time I roamed about snaring partridges, and in the autumn I set to build myself a suitable house for the winter: the birds, however, were now getting scarcer. One morning there was a terrible snow-fall, on account of which I stayed at home. Now and then I looked out of the window, and once saw something brown moving about in the snow. As the storm was going down, and the sky clearing a little, I recognised a large male reindeer seeking for food beneath the snow. I was dreadfully hungry at the time; and, although it was very unwise, I could not suppress a loud cry on seeing it. The knife I have got here” — showing a stump of a knife hardly a finger’s-length — “was then considerably longer: I took hold of it, and crept up to the animal very cautiously, not to frighten it. When the snow fell thicker I took to running; but when it cleared off a little, I lay down flat on the ground to hide. Once I entirely lost sight of it concealed in a cloud of snow, when all of a sudden I rushed at it, thrusting my knife several times into its flanks. It ran on, nevertheless, but I followed up its bloody tracks, and soon managed to get it killed. I brought it quickly to my house, and found it to be a fat buck; and thus I was provided sufficiently for the winter. Next summer I travelled to a place abounding in those animals, and I soon became well skilled in hunting them. But I was constantly getting very low-spirited: I did not much care for that sort of thing, but went in search of more daring excitement. However, I only happened to meet with some poor old kivigtut (plural of kivigtok). I had got to be very nimble-footed, and could run a race with any animal that ever was. Once I ascended the highlands, and got to the verge of the large glacier; and from thence I climbed my way on to an ice-bound land. My boots having got poor and soaked through, I proceeded to take out the skin-stockings in order to have them dried in the sun. Meantime, surveying the immense plain stretching out before me, at some distance I perceived a tiny black spot; moving on, I took it to be a raven, but presently it grew to be more like a fox, and this set me wondering in what manner a fox could possibly have got on to the glacier. When I again examined it, it had become the size of a reindeer; then it appeared like an amarok, or something like that. As I had all the time been in search of something appalling enough to rouse my dejected spirits, I resolved to front and attack the animal: on its approach, however, I found myself turning somewhat irresolute. As I stood mending my boots, I saw the beast bending down, and the ice flying about it on every side. Inwardly I wished it would keep to windward that it might not get the scent of me. I hastened to get on my boots, and fastened all my clothes about me to keep out the wind. Meantime the beast stood sniffing the ground; but all at once it bounded right towards me, and seeing this, I took to my heels, trying to gain the ice, where it was less smooth and slippery. The animal followed close at my heels, and I was thinking that all my diversion would likely end in being devoured by a monster. I now reached some large clefts in the ice, but soon noticed that, when I was obliged to leap, the monster merely took a long stride over, and I therefore looked out for a very wide crevice, thinking it would be quite as well for me to fall down the precipice as to be swallowed up by the beast. I barely managed to cross it: and no sooner had I gained the other side than I heard a fearful yell, and turning round, beheld the monster hanging perched on the edge of the icy rocks, unable to get up again. I sprang towards it; but before I had time to kill it, it was tumbling down the precipice — and thus I lost my prize. At the beginning of every winter I filled two storehouses with victuals, remembering the terrible want of the first winter. One evening, seated at my work in the house, I suddenly heard somebody passing through the entry, and two little women presently appeared before me: both were light-haired, and had a cleft in their upper lips. They each carried a bag with berries; and when they had sat down, no room was left in my little house. I treated them civilly, however, because they were my very first visitors. Both now poured out their berries, and begged me to eat with them; and I in my turn brought in grease and meat: but of this they would take nothing. I partook of the meal with them, and was much amused at their lively talking all the evening through. One of them jestingly said, ‘When people don’t keep an eye upon their stores, the wicked little foxes will come and carry them off; and then, when they happen to take them by surprise, they will run away, the tails turned right out;’ and they went on laughing till they were quite out of breath. I joined their merry laughter, and felt very happy indeed. At length, however, they left me, taking their bags with them; and I now perceived for the first time that my guests had been hares disguised in the shape of women. Another evening, when I again sat working, two other little women entered the house; but these had a darker complexion and larger tufts of hair: they were still more amiable than the former ones, and likewise poured out their berries before me, and I brought forth tallow and dried meat as before. They ate of this with great pleasure; and having done, they said, ‘These silly little hares, whenever they happen to meet folks, they sit down staring at them — they look so very funny with their cloven lips; and when they take to run, and people only say itek, they sit down on the spot.’ In such wise we chattered away, and spent the evening very pleasantly together. Now I have got practised in running, and skip about from place to place whenever I know that people have newly left. Accordingly I came here. Thou alone hast taken me by surprise; otherwise I seem to hear everything. When the partridges sit down yonder behind the high mountain-ridges, I shall be sure to hear them as if they were quite close by: but thy steps I have not heard.” From the upper part of his boot the first Salik produced a knife, and handed it to the narrator with these words, “I have got nothing else wherewith to pay thee back the pleasure thou hast given me.” When both were leaving, the story-teller said, “I feel a little indisposed immediately after the meal, but just follow me with a look;” and off he ran. Beyond the house was a high sloping hill: this he went up as swiftly as a flying raven that soars smoothly along, barely touching the earth, and thus he went quickly out of sight. But Salik often repeated the interesting tale of his namesake.


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

Kasiagsak, the great liar

Kasiagsak, an unlucky and deceitful seal hunter, repeatedly tricks his wife and community with fabricated tales of success, stealing seals, and staging false adventures. Despite temporary rewards, his lies unravel, bringing shame and scorn upon him. In his final deceit, promising a whale carcass, his companions lose patience, ending his life. This tale underscores themes of dishonesty, community trust, and consequences of deceit.

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: Kasiagsak’s repeated fabrications and trickery, such as stealing seals and staging false adventures, highlight the use of deceit to achieve personal gain.

Moral Lessons: The narrative underscores the consequences of dishonesty within a community, illustrating how deceit leads to shame, loss of trust, and ultimately, dire repercussions.

Community and Isolation: Kasiagsak’s actions alienate him from his peers, emphasizing the importance of trust and integrity in maintaining communal bonds and the isolation that results from betrayal.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Inuit peoples


Kasiagsak, who was living with a group of skilful seal-hunters, always returned in the evening without a catch of his own. When he was out, his wife, named Kitlagsuak, was always restless and fidgety, running out and in looking out for him, in the hope that he might be bringing home something; but he generally returned empty-handed. One day, being out in his kayak, he observed a black spot on a piece of ice, and it soon turned to be a little seal. His first intention was to harpoon it, but he changed his mind, and broke out, saying, “Poor little thing! it is almost a pity. Perhaps it has already been wounded by somebody else; perhaps it will slide down in the water when I approach it, and then I need only take hold of it with my hands.”

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So saying he gave a shout, at which the seal was not slow to get down. Presently it appeared close before the point of his kayak; but he called out still louder than before, and the seal went on diving up and down quite close to him. At length he made up his mind to chase and harpoon it; but somehow it always rose at a greater distance, and was soon entirely lost to him. Kasiagsak now put back, merely observing, “Ye silly thing! ye are not easy to get at; but just wait till next time.”

Another day he went seaward in bright, fine weather. Looking towards land he got sight of the other kayakers, and observed that one of them had just harpooned a seal, and that the others were all hurrying on to his assistance. As to himself, he never stirred, but remained quite unconcerned in his former place. He also noticed that the one who had caught the seal tugged it to the shore, and made it fast to a rock on the beach, intending to return in pursuit of others. He instantly put further out to sea; but when he had got quite out of sight he returned to the beach by a roundabout way, and made straight for the other man’s seal, and carried it off. The towing-line was all around ornamented with walrus-teeth, and he was greatly delighted at the prospect of getting home with this prize. Meanwhile his wife had been wandering about in expectation of him, and looking out for the returning kayakers. She at length cried out, “There is a kayak!” — at which more people came running out; and shading her eyes with her hand, she continued, “It looks like Kasiagsak, and he moves his arms like one tugging something along with him. Well, I suppose it will now be my turn to give you a share, and ye shall all get a nice piece of blubber.” As soon as he landed she hastened to ask him, “Where didst thou get that beautiful tugging-line?” He answered, “This morning at setting out I thought it might come in handy, as I was bent on having a catch, and so I brought it out with me; I have kept it in store this long time.” “Hast thou, indeed?” she rejoined, and then began the flensing and carving business. She put the head, the back, and the skin aside; all the rest, as well as the blubber, she intended to make a grand feast upon. The other kayakers successively returned, and she took care to inform each of them separately that a seal was already brought home; and when some of the women came back from a ramble on the beach, she repeated the whole thing over to them. But while they were sitting down to supper in the evening, a boy entered, saying, “I have been sent to ask for the towing-line; as to the seal, that is no matter.” Turning to Kasiagsak, his wife now put in, “Didst thou tell me an untruth?” He only answered, “To be sure I did;” whereto his wife remarked, “What a shame it is that Kasiagsak behaves thus!” but he only made a wry face, saying, “Bah!” which made her quite frightened; and when they lay down to rest he went on pinching her and whistling until they both fell asleep.

Another day, rowing about in his kayak, he happened to observe a black spot away on a flake of ice. On nearing it he made it out to be only a stone. He glanced round towards the other kayakers, and then suddenly feigned to be rowing hard up to a seal, at the same time lifting the harpoon ready to lance it; but presently went to hide himself behind a projecting point of the ice, from which he managed to climb it and roll the stone into the sea with a splash, making it all froth and foam. Meanwhile he got into his kayak again, making a great roar in order to call the others to his assistance. When they came up to him they observed that he had no bladder, and he said, “A walrus has just gone down with my bladder; do help me to catch sight of him; meantime I will turn back and tell that I have lanced a walrus.” He hurried landwards, and his wife, who happened to be on the look-out, again shouted, “A kayaker!” He called out that he had made a lucky hit. “I almost do believe it is Kasiagsak; do ye hear him in there?” Meantime he had approached the shore, and said, “In chasing a walrus I lost my bladder; I only came home to tell you this.” His wife now came running into the house, but being in such a hurry she broke the handle of her knife. However, she did not mind this, but merely said, “Now I can get a handle of walrus-tooth for my knife, and a new hook for my kettle.” In the evening Kasiagsak had chosen a seat on the hindermost part of the ledge, so that only his heels were to be seen. The other kayakers stayed out rather long; but the last of them on entering brought a harpoon-line and a bladder along with him, and turning to Kasiagsak observed, “I think it is thine; it must have been tied round some stone and have slipped off; here it is.” His wife exclaimed, “Hast thou been telling us new lies?” at which he only answered her, “Why, yes; I wanted to play you a trick, you see.”

Another day, when he was kayaking along the coast, he remarked some loose pieces of ice away on a sandy beach at some distance; he rowed up to them and went ashore. Two women, gathering berries, watched his doings all along. They saw him fill his kayak with bits of broken ice; and this done, he waded down into the water till it reached his very neck, and then turned back and got upon the beach, where he set to hammering his kayak all over with stones; and having finally stuffed his coat with ice, he turned towards home. At some distance he commenced shrieking aloud and crying, “Ah me! a big iceberg went calving (bursting and capsizing) right across my kayak, and came down on the top of me;” and his wife repeated his ejaculations, adding, “I must go and see about some dry clothes for him.” At last they got him up on shore, and large bits of ice came tumbling out of his clothes, while he went on lamenting and groaning as if with pain, saying, “I had a very narrow escape.” His wife repeated the tale of his misfortunes to every kayaker on his return home; but at last it so happened that the two women who had seen him likewise returned, and they at once exclaimed, “Is not that he whom we saw down below the sand-cliffs, stuffing his clothes with ice.” On this, the wife cried out, “Dear me! has Kasiagsak again been lying to us?” Subsequently Kasiagsak went to pay a visit to his father-in-law. On entering the house he exclaimed, “Why, what’s the matter with you that your lamps are not burning, and ye are boiling dog’s flesh?” “Alas!” answered the master, pointing to his little son, “he was hungry, poor fellow! and having nothing else to eat we killed the dog.” Kasiagsak boastingly answered him, “Yesterday we had a hard job at home. One of the women and I had our hands full with the great heaps of seals and walruses that have been caught. I have got both my storehouses choke-full with them; my arms are quite sore with the work.” The father-in-law now rejoined, “Who would ever have thought that the poor little orphan boy Kasiagsak should turn out such a rich man!” and so saying, he began crying with emotion; and Kasiagsak feigned crying likewise. On parting from them the following day, he proposed that his little brother-in-law should accompany him in order to bring back some victuals, adding, “I will see thee home again;” and his father said, “Well, dostn’t thou hear what thy brother-in-law is saying? thou hadst better go.” On reaching home, Kasiagsak took hold of a string and brought it into the house, where he busied himself in making a trap, and taking some scraps of frizzled blubber from his wife’s lamp, he thrust them out as baits for the ravens. Suddenly be gave a pull at the string, crying out, “Two! — alas! one made its escape;” and then be ran out and brought back a raven, which his wife skinned and boiled. But his brother-in-law had to look to the other people for some food; and at his departure the next day, he likewise received all his presents from them, and not from Kasiagsak.

Another day, he set off in his kayak to visit some people at a neighbouring station. Having entered one of the houses, be soon noticed that some of the inmates were mourning the loss of some one deceased. He questioned the others, and on hearing that they had lost a little daughter named Nepisanguak, he hastened in a loud voice to state, “We have just got a little daughter at home, whom we have called Nepisanguak;” on which the mourning parents and relations exclaimed, “Thanks be to thee that ye have called her by that name;” and then they wept, and Kasiagsak also made believe to be weeping; but he peeped through his fingers all the while. Later in the day they treated him richly with plenty of good things to eat. Kasiagsak went on saying, “Our little daughter cannot speak plainly as yet; she only cries ‘apangaja!’” but the others said, “She surely means ‘sapangaja’”(sapangat, beads); “we will give thee some for her;” and at his departure he was loaded with gifts — such as beads, a plate, and some seal-paws. Just as be was going to start, one of the men cried out to him, “I would fain buy a kayak, and I can pay it back with a good pot; make it known to the people in thy place.” But Kasiagsak said, “Give it to me; I have got a new kayak, but it is a little too narrow for my size.” At length be started along with his presents, and the pot stuck upon the front part of his kayak. At home be said, “Such a dreadful accident! a boat must surely have been lost; all these things I bring you here, I have found tossed about on the ice;” and his wife hastened into the house to give her cracked old pot a smash, and threw away the shoulder-blades that till now had served her instead of plates, and ornamented her coat with beads, and proudly walked to and fro to make the pearls rattle. The next day a great many kayakers were announced. Kasiagsak instantly kept as far back on the ledge as possible. As soon as the kayakers put in to shore, they called out, “Tell Kasiagsak to come down and fetch off some victuals we have brought for their little daughter;” but all the reply was, “Why, they have got no daughter at all.” Another of the men now put in, “Go and ask Kasiagsak for the new kayak I bought of him;” but the answer was, “He certainly has no new kayak.” At this information they quickly got up to the house, which they entered, taking their several gifts back, and last of all cutting the flaps ornamented with beads away from the wife’s jacket. When the strangers were gone she said as before, “Kasiagsak has indeed been telling a lie again.” His last invention was this: he one day found a small bit of whale-skin floating on the top of the water, and bringing it home he said, “I have found the carcass of a whale; follow me and I will show you it:” and the boat was got out, and they started. After a good while they asked him, “Whereabout is it?” but he merely answered them, “Away yonder;” and then a little bit further, “we shall soon get at it.” But when they had gone a long way from home without seeing anything like a floating whale, they got tired of Kasiagsak, and put a stop to all his fibs by killing him then and there.


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