Short Sketches from Oldest America Part 5

At last the fall season came, bringing with it the colder weather. The villagers were returning from their summer trips, and Allugu[=a]'s father and mother were among the arrivals. Soon he heard some one moving the barricade from the entrance, then his mother looked up through the hole in the floor. She was greatly surprised to see him alive and well; here was a fat, healthy boy instead of the emaciated body of her son, who, she supposed, had starved to death during her absence.

"Why you are alive and hearty, what makes you so fleshy?" she remarked, "and how you have grown!" Allugu[=a] did not tell his mother that a good little fairy had been feeding him. He simply said that the food and water she had left had proved very nourishing. After that his parents decided that as he would not die they would take care of him.

In time he grew up and was approaching manhood, when he expressed a desire to join one of the whaling crews. His parents said no; he was blind and would simply be in the way of the whalers. But he persisted, declaring that he would kill a whale. At last they consented, and he went with one of the crews. He had not been long out when he insisted that he should be placed at the head of the boat with the whaling spear. The men at first refused, but ultimately acceded to his request by placing him at the head with the spear. Just then a whale coming along quite close, they told him to dart, but he said no; that was not the right one, as it pa.s.sed off. Then the ice began crowding in and the canoe was quickly hauled out. The men stepped back to a safe place, but Allugu[=a] stayed at the edge.

After a while he began beckoning to the men to come forward. But no, they would not, for they thought it was simply the crowding ice he heard. Later on, the ice moved off and another whale came quite close.

The men again placed the spear in his hand and told him to dart, but he said no; that was not the right one. The ice again crowding in as before, he took his stand at the edge. After listening a while he beckoned for the men to come forward. At last they did so, remarking among themselves, that it was only the crowding of the ice he heard. He stood for a moment listening, then darted the spear, but instead of striking the ice, it went under, and the line with the floats was drawn out with great rapidity. He had darted a large whale which was soon dispatched.

Before the season closed he had killed three more, and the following year he did the same thing again; so that instead of being a poor blind man, a care to his parents, Allugu[=a] proved to be one of the most successful whalers in the village.

CATERPILLAR

It is not long since ghosts and fairies were fully believed in in the far north, as they were in the olden days in our more civilized countries. The men and women who claimed they had seen such apparitions were so common that no one doubted their statements or gave the subject an investigation, but would listen patiently, no matter how extravagant the story might be. Even to-day, superst.i.tion seems to exist among the older people, although there is scarcely any one who would care to a.s.sert that he had seen such a thing at a very recent date. In 1892 a young woman came to me with the information that the previous evening an "Ongootkoot" had seen a black man and boy walk slowly across the land, then out upon the ocean, where they disappeared.

Quite a while back, a man and his wife had gone into the interior country in search of deer. The man was meeting with unusually good success in his hunting, while the woman busied herself with cutting and packing willow brush for the camp. One day while at her task, happening to look up, she saw a woman near at hand with a very fine deerskin coat on. It was all fancily trimmed with wolverine and other furs, making one of those beautiful coats any woman would love to possess. At the same time, looking down at her own shabby artege, she sighed and remarked to the stranger, "What a beautiful coat you have." The woman smilingly replied, "Yes, how would you like to have it?" Of course she was delighted with the proposition, and when the stranger offered to make the exchange, was only too glad to accept the offer. The exchange was soon made, but on putting on the new coat she was instantly transformed into a caterpillar. The stranger put on the old coat, then picking up the bundle of willow brush went to the camp, where she took the place of the real wife.

The hunter, on returning, remarked to his supposed wife, "Why, dear, you don't look the same as usual, and you have a different odor." To which she replied, "Why, husband, you know I have been working hard all day, cutting and packing brush and have become overheated." The man, not being very inquisitive, accepted the explanation and was satisfied, especially so as there was a nice hot dinner awaiting him.

So matters continued for some time.

The real wife felt terribly over her misfortune, wishing sincerely she had never coveted the other woman's coat. She slowly crawled back toward the camp, but, make the greatest exertion she could, it was very slow work. Then, when she thought she had nearly arrived at the place where her husband was, he and the fraudulent wife would break camp and move to a new site. It was such slow work crawling; besides, the poor wife had several narrow escapes from hungry birds, only escaping by hiding in the crevice of a rock or under a blade of gra.s.s. The season was advancing and her husband would soon return to the village; she must hurry or be left behind. So crawling night and day, she at last reached the camp and managed to crawl in among the deerskins, as they were being lashed preparatory to taking them home.

On arriving in the village she could only crawl around and see her friends, but no one took any notice of her. She crawled around the iglo and watched the fraudulent wife making love to her husband. It filled her with jealousy and indignation, but she could do nothing to help matters. The season was arriving when she would turn into a coc.o.o.n for her long winter's sleep. If something did not happen quickly, her hopes would be blasted forever. Crawling up over the place where her mother was cooking, the caterpillar accidentally fell down at the edge of the fire, burst open and the woman escaped from her prison. Her mother was greatly surprised. Explanations were made, and the fraudulent wife was soon turned into a caterpillar. Crawling off she has never since been heard from, and may be crawling yet, as far as any of the villagers know.

TUNGN[=A]LUKE'S PERPLEXITY

Tungn[=a]luke was one of those slow-of-comprehension, good-natured, shiftless fellows, that the men of the world would consider as not being very bright. He would rather hang around his neighbors doing a bit of gossiping, than to exert himself by hunting for his family. As usual with such characters, he had chosen for a wife a woman his extreme opposite, and she was not to be blamed if, at times, she exercised her fiery tongue or wielded a stick. It was the only way to excite a little energy in the man she had accepted as her life partner.

There was a certain amount of affection existing between the two; she looking upon him as a man she could control, while on his part, he viewed her with a considerable amount of respect.

Knowing the man's gossiping disposition so well, she had ordered him to go up the river alone for three or four weeks and lay in a winter's supply of fish. He would much rather have taken a companion, for spending three or four weeks alone fishing through the ice, with no one to converse with, did not meet with his approbation; yet he knew better than to raise any objections with Mrs. Tungn[=a]luke. So he obeyed and went off. Feeling the loneliness of his position, he worked with an unusual amount of energy, trying to hurry the task through. Still the feeling of, "Oh, if I only had some one to talk to," would occasionally steal over him.

One day, meeting with unusual success, he stayed at the task much later than usual and the twilight had begun to fade. At last casting his eyes toward his hut he was surprised to see the place brightly illuminated.

What could it mean? He knew that the seal-oil lamp had not been lighted that day and there was no other person within many miles.

The number four seems to be regarded among the villagers with some degree of superst.i.tion, though why it is hard to say. Perhaps it originated from the idea that man ascends on the fourth day after death, and the four raps with the hammer are given on that day at the recent home of the deceased.

Tungn[=a]luke, on seeing the illumination, hastily picked up four frozen fish and on entering the hut he was delighted to see a woman.

Here was somebody to talk to. To be sure, she had a deerskin mask over her face, and he knew that was the way the villagers dressed the dead, but he gave the subject no heed. The place was nice and warm, and he felt that his solitude was at an end. He could now have a nice long conversation; so seating himself on the floor he spoke to the visitor.

But she made no reply. He then pushed one of the frozen fish toward her, but the fish came flapping back. Then he offered the other fish one by one, telling her to eat; but they came flapping back as did the first. Thinking that the warmth of the room had brought them back to life, he gave the subject no further attention.

His curiosity being aroused, and wishing to see who the visitor was, he pulled the death mask from her face and threw it outside; but it came back and covered the face again. Supposing that it was the wind which had blown it back, he pulled it off again and threw it outside; but with the same result as before. It was not until the fifth time that the mask stayed away. Then recognizing one of the young women of the village, he spoke but received no reply. Pa.s.sing his hand over her face he felt that she was cold and clammy, and supposing it was a chill she had he placed her in his bed.

After awhile he had the satisfaction of knowing that his visitor was growing warmer. Then she spoke and told him she had died and been buried, but that he had warmed and made her comfortable again. After talking together for quite awhile, the visitor proposed that they should return to the village together, Tungn[=a]luke taking her for his wife.

At last the truth began to dawn through his mind, and he found himself in a perplexity. Here he had been making a ghost comfortable, and it was now insisting on being his wife. He already had one in the village, whom he had a great amount of respect for, and knew she would be highly indignant if he brought a second wife home, especially so if the new one was the recently deceased neighbor. So he refused, but the ghost insisted. He was in a great perplexity, not knowing how to escape from his dilemma. The ghost was growing more and more imperative in its demands.

At last the idea arose in his mind that he would try the hammer. So going around the room he struck the four magic blows, at which the ghost disappeared, and he returned alone to his home to relate his adventure.

THE RAVEN, THE BARNACLE GOOSE AND THE WHALE

A raven that lived along the cliffs near Cape Lisburne became tired of the humdrum life he was leading. He had noticed that his friends, the gannets and murres, with many other acquaintances, were in the habit of going on long trips each fall and not returning again until the warmer weather of spring had arrived. His own family was content to stay at home the year round, not showing the least ambition to travel or visit any of those other countries about which their neighbors were continually talking. He was particularly interested to learn that in the south the sun was never lost in winter and the days were warm and balmy, just the same as in summer. He was growing tired of his bachelorship, and therefore he decided to seek a bride outside of his own people, one that would be willing to travel with him. Meeting one of the young ladies of the Barnacle Goose family, he proposed that she should become his wife, lauding himself by saying what a sweet voice he had, and what a good husband he would make. Miss Goose hung her head and demurred a little, nevertheless she accepted the offer, and they began their wedding tour together.

The goose, knowing the route, took the lead straight out over the ocean, while the raven followed, trying to keep pace with his bride. As the day waned, the raven began to feel the effects of the long flight, while hunger was admonishing him that he had partaken of only a light breakfast that morning. So addressing his wife, he said, "My dear, don't you think it is about time for us to take a rest while we try to find something to eat?"

"All right, husband," was her reply, as she settled lightly down on the waves. But there was no place for the raven to alight, unless upon his wife's back. All was water, so with a slight apology, he lit on the bride's back. After a short time she began to feel her husband's weight to be somewhat of a burden. Seeing a small fish, she remarked, "Look out, dear," as she dove and captured it. The raven just had time to open his weary wings, to avoid a ducking; then he had the mortification of seeing how selfish his bride was, as she swallowed the whole fish without offering him even a small piece, although he was famishing with hunger.

The goose then started to continue the journey, while the raven implored her to rest just a little longer; but no, she would not. There was nothing else for him to do but to continue his flight, trying to keep up with his wife, while beseeching her to take another short rest.

So the night wore away.

As the dawn came, the bride, who had gradually gained in her flight, was far ahead, while the bridegroom could scarcely flap his wings any longer. The situation began to look serious. If he should alight on the water his feathers would become wet and that would be his end. What to do he did not know. Just then a whale came along, and thinking it would be a good place to alight, he managed to reach its head just as his wings gave out.

The whale had just started to take a fresh breath, and the raven entered the blow hole along with the rush of air. Looking around he said to himself, "What a nice long room this is," and commenced walking about picking at the walls here and there. The whale remarked to some of its companions, "What a cold I have taken in my nose," and began sneezing. The raven thought he was in a very draughty apartment, but he had been born on the cliffs at Cape Lisburne, where the gales are frequent and severe, so he did not mind the present wollies[4] to any extent.

[4] Wollie, a sudden high gust of wind rushing through a gulch.

He took a walk in the long pa.s.sageway until the road divided up into the many small by-paths of the lungs. At last, finding a crevice where the drafts did not seem quite so strong, he settled down for a good sleep. On awakening, he began examining the comfortable crevice and found that the walls were not quite so thick as at the other places. So setting to work with bill and claws on a thin portion, he soon had a hole made through the membrane; at the same time the whale was grumbling at having the tickling sensation in its nose and throat that made it sneeze so often.

The raven walked through the opening and found himself in a much larger apartment, where there was a great deal to excite his interest, but what seemed the most curious thing of all was a great red object that was thumping in regular order. After standing and watching it for quite a while, his curiosity became much aroused. He thought he would feel it, just to see if it was hard or soft. He commenced feeling with his bill and found it was quite firm, but on trial discovered that it was easy to nip off a small piece. The fragment tasted very good, and as he had not breakfasted yet he made up his mind to keep nipping off small pieces until his hunger was appeased. The whale told its friends that these colds in the nose were awful things, for sometimes they struck through to the heart. The raven declared he had never before had such a good thing in all his life. Here was a nice large room with plenty to excite his curiosity, while there was no end of good things to eat.

At the end of a week he found himself growing quite fleshy, but the big red object was not beating with the same regularity as at first. At last it ceased, and the whale lay floating on the water, dead. The whale's friends declared that their late comrade had died suddenly from heart failure, induced by a cold in the nose and aggravated by too much sneezing.

The raven soon began to suspect that all was not quite right. The big red object did not work any longer, while everything remained so still.

After a while, the breaking of the surf on the beach greeted his ears.

Then people's voices were heard shouting, "Here comes some new meat and black skin floating on the ocean."

The whale drifted on sh.o.r.e and the inhabitants were soon cutting off the meat and blubber. One man, working on the ribs, quickly had a hole made and light began streaming through. The raven said to himself, "Here I have grown quite corpulent during the lazy life I have been leading; I must not let the men see me." So, crouching down and hiding, he waited until the hole was made large enough, then suddenly opening his wings flew out. Everybody was much surprised to see the raven come out of the whale. But they heard him say before he disappeared toward his home on the cliffs, that in the future he would stick by his own people and avoid those frivolous young ladies of the Barnacle Goose family.

XXI

COURTSHIP

As viewed by the outsider, the average Inupash courtship is devoid of romance. The first mating of young people is usually suggested and arranged by the mothers, yet there are slight indications noticeable to the initiated that will often point to the intentions of the persons interested. If one sees a young man beating out a piece of metal and fashioning a finger ring, it is apt to be for some young woman; or should a young woman be making a fancy tobacco bag, of course it is for some young man, and the whispering of love is probably back of the inspiration. It only remains for the meeting of the two mothers to arrange matters.

The two families may be living close together, yet the mother of one will call on her neighbor and tell her how she has intended to be more neighborly, but she has been so busy. Then the neighbor will declare how delighted she is to see her, after which the conversation is carried on in the usual strain, or until mother number one commences to tell what a great hunter her son is and how good he is. Then mother number two remarks that her daughter is such a good sewer and knows how to chew a beautiful boot sole. Mother number one declares that they are never hungry in their iglo, as son is always so successful and brings lots of seals home. Mother number two now remarks that daughter is such a lovely cook, having taken lessons and knows how to cook everything.

(At the same time, she may consider herself fortunate if she has half a sack of China flour in the house.) The conversation continues for a while, each mother trying to present her side in its most favorable light.

The father now arriving, and being suspicious of what is taking place, will naturally try to be as agreeable as possible. He will relate some old story that has been doing duty in the tribe for a number of generations. Of course the women gather around and listen with a great deal of interest, as if it was entirely new to them. Returning to business, it is decided that the young man shall enter the family on a sort of trial. If the girl turns up her nose and makes faces, he might as well leave, as the match will never amount to anything; but should she greet him with an occasional smile and allow him to sit by her side in the evening, with his arm around her, it will be all clear sailing and they will unite as husband and wife.

With older people courtship is different. They plead and arrange their own affairs, usually without the a.s.sistance of a third party. As I have watched these marriages, I could not help but think that they turn out as happily as in any other section. Divorces, formerly so common, are now far less frequent, and when the people marry it is usually for life, most couples living together happily until parted by death.