Part 7

Many of the songs of these people relate fragments of tradition, while others deal with a crude mythology. There is yet another class, looked upon as prayers; some of these are very old, and are highly treasured by the possessors, being guarded as great secrets. When a father is about to pass away, he will call his son and impart to him the song as a legacy. No one else is allowed to be present on such an occasion, it being regarded in the same solemn light as a dying parent's blessing. The son in his turn, when he has grown old, and is about ready to take leave of the world, will impart the song to the next one in line of inheritance. These heirlooms have descended through families from one generation to another for an immense length of time. They are supposed to have a mystic charm and are never sung loud, but are hummed in a low voice. No outsider is allowed to learn the words or hear the tunes. If a seal on the ice is very watchful, the hunter that has received such a legacy will lie still and sing the magic words, at which the animal is supposed to go to sleep and so be readily approached. The same is said about the whale; if it has been struck, and there is danger of its being lost, the initiated will sing the magic words, after which the whale can be captured.

One song of the first named class relates the experiences of a young woman. Her parents, who are growing old, are desirous that she should choose a husband from among the young men of the village. She, refusing to do so, selects a skull as her lover. Her mother is indignant, and one day during the daughter's absence accuses her son-in-law of keeping her awake the previous night by too much whispering. Taking a stick she thrusts it into the eye socket, then tosses the skull out-of-doors. The wind rolls it down the beach and far out into the ocean. The daughter, on returning and finding her lover absent, eagerly inquires where he is. On going outside the trail of the skull is discovered and followed to the water. A mouse coming along the trail is killed and, on its being thrown into the ocean, a path is made visible which leads down into the shades. There the lover is found; he has grown a new body and is living with two old women. The young woman is overjoyed at finding her Orpheus, but he, pointing to the wound in the eye, tells her that her mother was the cause of it and refuses to return with her. She mournfully retraces her steps to earth and decides to choose the other road thence leading to Paradise.

Taking the winding path that ascends toward the sky, she finds that the scene grows more enchanting as she proceeds. At last she arrives at the moon, where everything is found to be most beautiful. After viewing the amazing scene, she expresses a desire to cast her eyes upon the earth again, but the keeper refuses to open the door. Finally, however, her earnest pleadings have the desired effect, and he concedes to her request by opening the door a little. While she is looking down, a great shout is heard, as the villagers cry out, "There's the new moon!" One man, taking a cup, tosses water so high that it enters the door of the moon; at the same time he shouts, "Send me a whale." A second man does the same, but tosses the water only a short distance, for he has met with disappointment in his whaling. All these scenes, with the distinctness of the voices, have the effect of making her homesick to return to the village. She pleads with the doorkeeper to allow her to retrace her steps, but he declares that the path has vanished, and that no one entering the moon can return by the same road. She, becoming disconsolate, is at last informed that if she will braid a rope long enough to reach the earth a descent can be made by that means; so she sets to work and after diligent labor the task is ultimately completed. As she starts to lower herself, the doorkeeper tells her to keep her eyes closed until her feet touch the ground, and following his instructions she at last reaches the earth once more.

XVI

WOODEN FACES

Many families treasure old family portraits--paintings of ancestors who have rendered themselves famous in one way or another. Such paintings have their unwritten stories, repeated by word of mouth from one generation to another, thereby preserving the family history which is looked back upon with pride by the descendants.

Among the inhabitants of the Arctic regions the same sentiment long ago prevailed. They had no pencils or paints, neither did they know anything of the painter's art, so with their stone knives or other rude tools they carved faces from driftwood, which were hung up in their homes as mementos of former great men and ancestors. With these faces were always associated the unwritten stories of the men they represented, descending by word of mouth from one generation to another, thereby preserving the family history. Sometimes the accounts of the deeds these men performed were carved on ivory, thus aiding in the preservation of their stories.

It is doubtful if these masks were very good likenesses of the individuals, but they have served their purpose remarkably well. It is also doubtful if our more civilized artists could have done much better than these untrained sculptors with the same rude tools and materials with which they had to work. Sometimes the untutored artist would create an unsatisfactory face, one rather hideous in its appearance; then he would declare that he had made the face of Toongna. At other times faces would be created without any intention of their representing any particular individual. Such faces were hung up in homes for the same reason that we adorn our walls with oil paintings or photographs, simply to look at them. Other large faces were made and used in the festivities of a feast, but I have never learned that such faces were looked upon with any degree of superstition, as many have supposed.

XVII

THE EVOLUTION OF THE COOK

The Arctic cook's necessary tools are first a fire, then a pot and a spoon or stick, and a piece of seal meat. Judging from tradition, these must have been known to the first old woman. The forerunner of the spoon was the "allutok," a name derived from two words, "allukto," to lick, and "tock," occurring only in the construction of compound words and having a reference to bringing. The first "allutok" was simply a small stick like the Chinese chop-stick. It continued in use for a great many centuries, or to within the past ten or twelve years. Since then it has been entirely replaced by the modern spoon, which has retained the same name.

Calling boiled seal meat the first, we will look upon "pooy[=a]" as the second triumph of the culinary art. I give the recipe for number two. At the same time, it is doubtful if any of the modern ladies of the kitchen will care to experiment with its manufacture. The only things of interest about "pooy[=a]" are its age, the ingredients and style of its construction, and its one great product (according to the Inupash)--the first man.

During those very early days, the woman appears not to have washed her dishes, although she may have spent a great deal of time in the water. The recipe says: Scrape the old dried dinner from the "allutok" used at a previous feast of seal meat. To the scrapings add a small pinch of the tender pin feathers of a bird. The two ingredients are to be mixed, then masticated until metamorphosed into chewing-gum.

There were no clocks or watches in those early days, so the Polar man's first mother had lots of time. After a few centuries had passed, some genius invented a new form of chewing-gum called "[=a]noon." It appears to have been the third triumph in the culinary line. Seal oil is boiled; the upper portion being poured off, the thick sediment remaining is again boiled until it becomes black and nearly burnt, when it is ready for chewing. The use of this is said to shorten time considerably, but the mass does not look inviting.

"Keveh," made by warming deer tallow, then beating it into a light mass with salmon berries, was the fourth innovation, and "ahkootoo," the fifth. "Ahkootoo" is made from deer marrow, mixed with whale oil, a small amount of soup from boiled deer meat and also some of the meat cut fine. The mass is to be beaten until it becomes quite light. It is an article of food very highly esteemed by the Inupash.

These remained the only dishes known to the cook for a vast length of time, but I take it that much meat and fish were devoured raw. On the first introduction of flour, the people did not care for it, but about 1890 they learned the art of making "nookpowras," flour mixed with a small amount of water, then dropped into boiling seal or whale oil. "Nookpowras" proved quite popular, and flour became a demand.

A few years back instructions were begun among the young people at Tigara in the simple art of cooking. At first the girls viewed it in the line of a novelty, but when they noticed the eligible young men picking out the cooks for their wives, it was astonishing to see what zeal all the marriageable girls suddenly developed. As soon as they had learned to turn a slapjack, or to make a cup of coffee, they would, on returning to their homes in the evening, pass around among the young men, bragging of what good cooks they were; or if a whale ship was sighted, off would scamper the cooks, anxious to be the first on board, invariably hunting up the cooks' galley, where they introduced themselves as cooks, seeming to feel that there should be a professional bond of sympathy between them.

It was not alone in cooking that instructions were given, but also in the art of sewing; simple cutting was taught and the making of such things as towels, snow shirts and trousers.

At one time the young tribal princess and her companion were under instruction. They tried to excel all previous apprentices in various ways. No sooner would the breakfast dishes be through with than the girls would disappear out-of-doors. On searching for them, they would be found in some secluded corner playing housekeeping; or, if a doctor's patient came along, after his departure they would prescribe small powders of flour for each other. When the time came for them to receive instruction in sewing, they were set to making woolen trousers. A great amount of whispering and tittering went on; then when the work was brought for inspection it was found that, as before these girls had tried to excel all previous attempts. They had procured some bright pieces of calico with which they had trimmed the garments in a style the princess thought quite pretty. Fancy trousers immediately became the rage among the villagers. One young man of dudish propensities came out with a pair that had been worked in rings of various colors down each leg, while his competitor introduced knee breeches made from fancy bed ticking, heavily frilled at the knees and fancily embroidered in bright colors. The village belles, not to be outdone by the young men, discarded the old bone fish-hooks they had been wearing for ear jewelry and adopted the more natty safety-pin, at the same time making for themselves pretty waist belts with can-openers for danglers, and also giving their cloaks a liberal supply of the same.

It was the beginning of a new era among the people. They were awaking from the long sleep they had been taking, ever since the beginning of the Polar race. Old ways that had been followed from the most remote time were to give way to the new conditions that were advancing, and would ultimately end in the improvement and benefit of the people.

The art of cooking has now greatly advanced. Nearly all the young people understand how to cook. It is doubtful if there is an iglo in the village that has not one or two cooks. Eating raw meat is pretty much of the past, its place being filled by bread, slapjacks, soup, and tea or coffee. Nearly all the young people can make their own yeast, and as good a loaf of bread as is to be found anywhere, far surpassing their instructor. Soap and water, and with them cleanliness, have also been introduced. If in traveling along the coast one meets with clean young natives, who ask for a piece of soap, he may know that they are from Tigara, or have spent a season or two in the village; at least so say the persons who have had this experience.

XVIII

CHOKARLUKE

Luke occurs frequently as an affix to many nouns, more especially in the names of individuals, but no one seems able to throw any light on the meaning of it. If it ever had any, it has been lost. In the interpretation of the names of individuals, Katuktorluke becomes Lost Luke; Covewluke, Slop-bucket Luke; Chummerroyluke, Beads-on-the-hair Luke; Tatke[=a]luke, Moon Luke; and Chokarluke, Whalebone Luke.

Chokarluke was the traditionary strong man of the Polar race. He lived in the neighborhood of Cape Lisburne, near which place the traveler may see two large stones that he has been credited with carrying in his arms and placing in their present position. They were used for the purpose of stretching his seal lines to dry. He is also credited with having been a wonderful pedestrian, having had great power of endurance. At one time the neighbors had killed a whale but were in danger of losing their prize, the strong ocean current threatening to carry it away. Chokarluke, happening along, seized the whale by the tail and lifted it half out of the water and upon the ice, a deed of strength far surpassing any of our modern strong men's feats and well earning for him the name of Whalebone Luke.

XIX

INTRODUCTION OF TOBACCO

There is always a pleasure in recording the deeds of great men, and although they may have been taking their long sleep for many a year, yet those innovations they introduced still live on. So I take pleasure in introducing "Nanoona" for the first time, and leave it to the historian to record his name along with that of "Bobo," the introducer of roast pork, or to place this story with that of Sir Walter Raleigh's involuntary bath.