THE DANCE FESTIVALS
The Dance Festivals of the Alaskan Eskimo are held during that cold, stormy period of the winter when the work of the year is over and hunting is temporarily at an end. At this season the people gather in the kásgi to celebrate the local rites, and at certain intervals invite neighboring tribes to join in the great inter-tribal festivals. This season of mirth and song is termed “Tcauyávik” the drum dance season, from “Tcaúyak” meaning drum. It lasts from November to March, and is a continuous succession of feasts and dances, which makes glad the heart of the Eskimo and serves to lighten the natural depression caused by day after day of interminable wind and darkness. A brisk exchange of presents at the local festivals promotes good feeling, and an interchange of commodities between the tribes at the great feasts stimulates trade and results in each being supplied with the necessities of life. For instance, northern tribes visiting the south bring presents of reindeer skins or múkluk to eke out the scanty supply of the south, while the latter in return give their visitors loads of dried salmon which the northerners feed to their dogs.
The festivals also serve to keep alive the religious feeling of the people, as evidenced in the Dance to the Dead, which allows free play to the nobler sentiments of filial faith and paternal love. The recital of the deeds of ancient heroes preserves the best traditions of the race and inspires the younger generation. To my mind, there is nothing which civilization can supply which can take the place of the healthy exercise, social enjoyment, commercial advantages, and spiritual uplift of these dances. Where missionary sentiment is overwhelming they are gradually being abandoned; where there is a mistaken opinion in regard to their use, they have been given up altogether; but the tenacity with which the Eskimo clings to these ancient observances, even in places where they have been nominal christians for years, is an evidence of the vitality of these ancient rites and their adaptation to the native mind.
The festivals vary considerably according to locality, but their essential features are the same. Taken in order of celebration they are as follows
Local Festivals.
1. The Aiyáguk or Asking Festival.
2. The Tcaúiyuk or Bladder Feast.
3. The Ailī́gi or Annual Feast to the Dead.
Inter-tribal Festivals.
4. The Aíthukā́tukhtuk or Great Feast to the Dead.
5. The Aithúkaguk or Inviting-In Feast.
The Asking Festival, which begins the round of feasting and dancing, takes place during the November moon. It is a local ceremony in which gifts are exchanged between the men and women of the village, which result in offers of temporary marriage. It takes its name from the Aiyáguk or Asking Stick,[13] which is the wand of office of the messenger or go-between. The Annual Feast to the Dead is held during the December moon, and may be repeated again in spring after the Bladder Feast, if a large number of Eskimos have died in the interim. It consists of songs and dances accompanied by offerings of food and drink to the dead. It is a temporary arrangement for keeping the dead supplied with sustenance (they are thought to imbibe the spiritual essence of the offerings) until the great Feast to the Dead takes place.
This is held whenever the relatives of the deceased have accumulated sufficient food, skins and other goods to entertain the countryside and are able to properly honor the deceased. At the same time the namesakes of the dead are richly clothed from head to foot and showered with presents. As this prodigal generosity entails the savings of years on the part of the feast givers (náskut), the feast occurs only at irregular intervals of several years. It has been termed the Ten Year Feast by the traders (Kágruska), but so far as I have been able to inquire, it has no fixed date among the Eskimo. It is by far the most important event in the life of the Alaskan native. By it he discharges all debts of honor to the dead, past, present and future. He is not obliged to take part in another festival of the kind unless another near relative dies. He pays off all old scores of hospitality and lays his friends under future obligations by his presents. He is often beggared by this prodigality, but he can be sure of welcome and entertainment wherever he goes, for he is a man who has discharged all his debts to society and is therefore deserving of honor for the rest of his days.
In the Bladder Feast which takes place in January, the bladders of the animals slain during the past season, in which the spirits of the animals are supposed to reside, are returned to the sea, after appropriate ceremonies in the kásgi. There they are thought to attract others of their kind and bring an increase to the village. This is essentially a coast festival. Among the tribes of the islands of Bering Sea and the Siberian Coast this festival is repeated in March, in conjunction with a whaling ceremony performed at the taking down of the ūmiaks.
The dance contests in the Inviting-In Feast resemble the nith songs of Greenland. They are Comic and Totem Dances in which the best performers of several tribes contest singly or in groups for supremacy. The costumes worn are remarkably fine and the acting very realistic. This is essentially a southern festival for it gives an opportunity to the Eskimo living near the rivers to display their ingenious talent for mimicry and for the arrangement of feathers.
There are a few purely local ceremonies, the outgrowth of practices of local shamans. An example of this is the Aitekátah or Doll Festival of the Igomiut, which has also spread to the neighboring Dènè. Such local outgrowths, however, do not appear to spread among the conservative Eskimo, who resent the least infringement of the ancient practices handed down from dim ancestors of the race.
It is not often that they will allow a white man to witness the festival dances, but, owing to the friendliness of the chief of the Diomede tribes, who always reserved a seat for me next to him in the kásgi, I had the opportunity of seeing the local rites and the Great Dance to the Dead. The same favor continuing with the chief of the Unalit, during my residence on the Yukon, I witnessed the Inviting-In Feast as celebrated by the southern tribes. Having described the dances in general, I will proceed to a detailed account of each.
The Asking Festival
The Aiyáguk or Asking Festival is the first of the local feasts. It occurs about the middle of November when the Eskimo have all returned from their summer travels and made their iglus secure against the storms of the coming winter. So, with caches full of fish, and houses packed with trade goods after a successful season at the southern camps, they must wait until the shifting ice pack settles and the winter hunting begins. Such enforced inaction is irksome to the Eskimo, who does not partake of the stolidity of the Indian, but like a nervous child must be continually employed or amused. So this festival, which is of a purely social character, has grown up.
My first intimation that there was a celebration taking place was being attracted by a tremendous uproar in the native village just as darkness had fallen. Suspecting that the Eskimo were making merry over a native brew, called “hoosch,”[14] I slipped down to the village to see what was the matter. I was met by the queerest procession I have ever seen. A long line of men and boys, entirely naked and daubed over with dots and figures of mingled oil and charcoal,[15] were proceeding from house to house with bowls in their hands. At each entrance they filed in, howling, stamping and grunting, holding out their dishes until they were filled by the women of the house.
All this time they were careful to keep their faces averted so that they would not be recognized. This is termed the “Tutúuk” or “going around.” Returning to the kásgi they washed off their marks with urine, and sat down to feast on their plunder.
The next day the men gathered again in the kásgi and the Aiyáguk or Asking Stick was constructed. It was made by a man especially chosen for the purpose. It was a slender wand about three feet long with three globes made of thin strips of wood hanging by a strip of oḱlinok from the smaller end. It was carried by the messenger between the men and women during the feast, and was the visible sign of his authority. It was treated with scrupulous respect by the Eskimo and to disregard the wishes conveyed by means of it during the feast would have been considered a lasting disgrace. When not in use it was hung over the entrance to the kásgi.
The wand maker, having finished the Asking Stick, took his stand in the center of the room, and swaying the globes, to and fro, asked the men to state their wishes. Then any man present had the privilege of telling him of an article he wished and the name of the woman from whom he wished it. (Among the southern tribes the men made small wooden models of the objects they wished which were hung on the end of the Asking Stick.) The messenger then proceeded to the house of the woman in question, swinging the globes in front of her, repeated the wish and stood waiting for her answer. She in turn recollected something that she desired and told it to the messenger. Thereupon he returned to the kásgi, and standing in front of the first party, swung the globes, and told him what was desired in return. In this way he made the round of the village. The men then returned to their homes for the article desired, while the messenger blackened his face with charcoal and donned a costume betoking humility. This was considered the only proper attitude in presenting gifts. The costume consisted of wornout clothing, of which a disreputable raincoat (Kamleíka) and a dogskin belt with the tail behind were indispensable parts.
Then the men and women gathered in the kásgi where the exchanges were made through the messenger. If anyone did not have the gift requested he was in honor bound to secure it as soon as possible and present it to his partner. Those exchanging gifts entered a relationship termed oīlóǵuk, and among the northern tribes where the ancient forms persevere, they continued to exchange presents throughout succeeding festivals.
After this exchange, a dance was performed by the women. They stripped to the waist, and taking their places on the ińglak, went through a series of motions in unison. These varied considerably in time and movement from the conventional women’s dance.
According to custom at the conclusion of the dance any man has the privilege of asking any unmarried woman through the messenger, if he might share her bed that night. If favorably inclined, she replies that he must bring a deerskin for bedding. He procures the deerskin, and presents it to her, and after the feast is over remains with her for the night.
Whether these temporary unions lead to permanent marriage I was unable to find out. The gift of reindeer skin is very like the suit of clothing given in betrothal and would furnish material for the parka which the husband presents to his bride. The fact that the privilege is limited to unmarried women might be also urged in turn. As the system of exchanging wives was formerly common among the Alaskan Eskimo, and as they distribute their favors at will, it is rather remarkable that the married women are not included, as in the licentious feasts recorded of the Greenlanders.[16] From talks with some of the older Eskimo I am led to regard this as a relic of an ancient custom similar to those which have been observed among many nations of antiquity, in which a woman is open to violation at certain feasts. This privilege is taken advantage of, and may become a preliminary to marriage.
The Bladder Feast
The Bladder Feast (Tcaúiyuk) is held in December at the full of the moon. The object of this feast is the propitiation of the inua of the animals slain during the season past. These are believed to reside in the bladders, which the Eskimo carefully preserve. The ceremony consists in the purification of the bladders by the flame of the wild parsnip (Aíkituk). The hunters are also required to pass through the flame. They return the bladders then to the sea, where entering the bodies of their kind, they are reborn and return again, bringing continued success to the hunter.
The first three days are spent in preparation. They thoroughly clean the kásgi, particularly the kenéthluk or fireplace, the recognized abode of all spirits visiting the kásgi. Then the men bring in their harvest of bladders.[17] They tie them by the necks in bunches of eight to the end of their spears. These they thrust into the walls at the rear of the room leaving ample room for the dancers to pass under the swaying bladders in the rites of purification. Offerings of food and water are made to the inua, and they are constantly attended. One old man told me that they would be offended and take their departure if left alone for a moment. Dogs, being unclean, are not allowed to enter the kásgi. Neither is anyone permitted to do any work during the ceremony.
Meanwhile four men,[18] especially chosen for the purpose, scour the adjoining country for parsnip stalks. They bind these into small bundles, and place them on top of the látorak, the outer vestibule to the entrance of the kásgi. In the evening they take these into the kásgi, open the bundles and spread out the stalks on the floor. Then each hunter takes a stalk, and they unite in a song to the parsnip, the burden of which is a request that the stalks may become dry and useful for purification. The heat of the seal oil lamps soon dries them, and they are tied into one large bundle. The third day the sheaf is opened, and two bundles made. The larger one is for the use of the dancers; the smaller is placed on a spear and stuck in front of the bladders.
The fourth day the bladders are taken down and painted. A grayish mixture is used which is obtained by burning a few parsnip stalks and mixing the ashes with oil. The designs are the series of bands and dots grouped to represent the totems of the hunters. When the paint is dry the bladders are returned to their places.
In the evening the men gather again in the kásgi, and the dancers proceed to strip off every vestige of clothing. Snatching a handful of stalks at the common pile they light them at the lamps, and join in a wild dance about the room. The resinous stalks shoot into flame with a frightful glare, lighting up the naked bodies of the dancers, and dusky interior of the kásgi. Waving the flaming torches over their heads, leaping, jumping, and screaming like madmen they rush around the room, thrusting the flame among the bladders and then into the faces of the hunters. When the mad scene is at its height, they seize one another, and struggle toward the púgyarok (entrance hole). Here each is thrust down in succession until all the dancers have passed through. I am informed that this is a pantomime enactment, an indication to the inua it is time for them to depart.
The next day a hole is made in the ice near the kásgi, and each hunter dips his spear in the water, and, running back to the kásgi, stirs up the bladders with it. The presence of the sea water reminds the inua of their former home, and they make ready to depart. The bladders are then tied into one large bundle, and the people await the full moon.
At sunrise the morning after the full moon each hunter takes his load of bladders, and filing out of the kásgi starts for the hole in the ice on a dead run. Arriving there, he tears off the bladders one by one, and thrusts them under the water. This signifies the return of the inua to the sea.
As the bladders float or sink success is prophesied for the hunter by the shaman in attendance.
In the meantime the old men build a fire of driftwood on the ice in front of the kásgi. The small bundle of parsnip stalks which stood in front of the bladders is brought out and thrown on the fire, and as the stalks kindle to the flame, each hunter utters a shout, takes a short run, and leaps through in turn. This performance purifies the hunter of any matter offensive to the inua, and concludes the ceremony.
During the Bladder Feast all intercourse between the married men and their wives is tabooed. They are required to sleep in the kásgi with the bachelors. Neither is any girl who has attained puberty (Wingiktóak) allowed near the bladders. She is unclean (Wáhok).
The Eskimo idea of the life after death and the rationale for their most important ritual, the Feast to the Dead, is nowhere better illustrated than in a quaint tale current along the Yukon, in which the heroine, prematurely buried during a trancelike sleep, visited the Land of the Dead. She was rudely awakened from her deathlike slumber by the spirit of her grandmother shaking her and exclaiming, “Wake up. Do not sleep the hours away. You are dead!” Arising from her grave box, the maiden was conducted by her guide to the world beneath, where the dead had their dwellings in large villages grouped according to the localities from which they came. Even the animal shades were not forgotten, but inhabited separate communities in human shape.[19] After some travel the girl found the village allotted to her tribe, and was reclaimed by her departed relatives. She was recognized by the totem marks on her clothing, which in ancient times the Eskimo always wore. She found the inmates of this region leading a pleasant but somewhat monotonous life, free from hardships and from the sleet and cold of their earthly existence. They returned to the upper world during the feasts to the dead, when they received the spiritual essence of the food and clothing offered to their namesakes[20] by relatives. According to the generosity or stinginess of the feast givers there was a feast or a famine in spirit land, and those who were so unfortunate as to have no namesake, either through their own carelessness[21] or the neglect of the community,[22] went hungry and naked. This was the worst calamity that could befall an Eskimo, hence the necessity of providing a namesake and of regularly feeding and clothing the same, in the interest of the beloved dead.
THE ANNUAL FEAST, AILĪ́GI
The Annual Feast to the Dead is a temporary arrangement, whereby the shades of those recently departed are sustained until the advent of the Great Feast to the Dead. The essence of the offerings of food and drink are supposed to satisfy the wants of the dead until they can be properly honored in the Great Festival. In the latter event the relative discharges all his social obligations to the dead, and the ghost is furnished with such an abundance that it can never want in the world below.
The makers of the feast (nä́skut) are the nearest relatives of those who have died during the past year, together with those villagers who have not yet given the greater festival. The day before the festival the male mourners go to the village burial ground and plant a newly made stake before the grave of their relative. The stake is surmounted by a wooden model of a spear, if the deceased be a man; or a wooden dish, if it be a woman. The totem mark of the deceased is carved upon it. In the north simple models of kayak paddles suffice. The sticks are a notification to the spirits in the land of the dead that the time for the festival is at hand. Accordingly they journey to the grave boxes, where they wait, ready to enter the kásgi at the song of invocation. To light their way from the other world lamps are brought into the kásgi and set before their accustomed places. When the invitation song arises they leave their graves and take their places in the fireplace (Kenéthluk), where they enjoy the songs and dances, and receive the offerings of their relatives.
The Annual Feast is celebrated after the Bladder Feast during the December moon. By the Yukon tribes it is repeated just before the opening of spring. During the day of the festival a taboo is placed on all work in the village, particularly that done with any sharp pointed tool which might wound some wandering ghost and bring retribution on the people.
At midday the whole village gathers in the kásgi, and the ceremony begins. Soon the mourners enter bearing great bowls of food and drink which they deposit in the doorway. Then the chorus leader arises and begins the song of invitation accompanied by the relatives of the dead. It is a long minor chant, a constant reiteration of a few well worn phrases.
“Tukomalra-ā-, tung lík-a, tis-ká-a a-a-yung-a-a-yung-a, etc.
Dead ones, next of kin, come hither,
Túntum komúga thetámtatuk, móqkapik thetámtatuk moqsúlthka.
Reindeer meat we bring you, water we bring you for your thirst.”
When the song is completed the mourners arise, and going to the food in the doorway set it on the planks over the fireplace, after which they take a ladleful from each dish pouring it through the cracks in the floor, and the essence of this offering supplies the shades below with food until the next festival. The remainder of the food is distributed among those present. When the feast is over, the balance of the day is given over to songs and dances. Then the spirits are sent back to their homes by the simple expedient of stamping on the floor.
THE GREAT FEAST, AÍTHUKĀ́TUKHTUK
After making offerings to his relative at the annual feast the chief mourner begins saving up his skins, frozen meat, and other delicacies prized by the Eskimo, until, in the course of years, he has accumulated an enormous amount of food and clothing. Then he is prepared to give the great feast in honor of his kinsman. Others in the village, who are bereaved, have been doing the same thing. They meet and agree on a certain time to celebrate the feast together during the ensuing year. The time chosen is usually in January after the local feasts are over, and visitors from neighboring tribes are free to attend. There are no set intervals between these feasts as has been generally supposed. They are celebrated at irregular intervals according to the convenience of the givers.
At the minor festival preceding the Great Feast, the usual invitation stakes planted before the dead are supplemented by others placed before the graves of those in whose honor the festival is to be given. On these is a painted model of the totemic animals of the deceased. The feast giver sings an especial song of invitation, requesting the dead kinsman to be present at the approaching feast.
On the first day of the Great Feast the villagers welcome the guests. Early in the morning they begin to arrive. The messenger goes out on the ice and leads them into the village, showing each where to tie his team. During the first day the guests are fed in the kásgi. They have the privilege of demanding any delicacy they wish. After this they are quartered on various homes in the village. Salmon or meat must also be provided for their dogs. This is no small item, and often taxes the resources of a village to the utmost. I have known of a village so poor after a period of prolonged hospitality that it was reduced to starvation rations for the rest of the winter.
Immediately on tying up their dogs, the guests go to the kásgi. On entering each one cries in set phraseology, “Ah-ka-ká Píatin, Pikeyútum.” “Oh, ho! Look here! A trifling present.” He throws his present on a common pile in front of the headman, who distributes them among the villagers. It is customary to make the presents appear as large as possible. One fellow has a bolt of calico which he unwinds through the entrance hole, making a great display. It may be thirty yards long. Sometimes they accompany the gift with a short dance. It is considered bad form for one coming from a distance[23] not to make the usual present, as in this way he purchases the right to join in the festival dances.
As soon as all are gathered in the kásgi, a feast is brought in for the tired travelers. Kantags of sealmeat, the blackskin of the bowhead, salmon berries swimming in oil, greens from the hillsides, and pot after pot of tea take off the edge of hunger. After gorging themselves, the guests seem incapable of further exertion, and the remainder of the day is spent in visiting.
The Feast Givers
The feast givers or nä́skut assemble in the kásgi the second day, and the ceremony proper begins. They range themselves around the púgyarok or entrance, the chorus and guests occupying the back of the room and the spectators packing themselves against the walls.
Each feast giver is garbed according to the sex of his dead relative, not his own, so that some men wear women’s clothes and vice versa. Each bears in his right hand a wand about two feet long (Kelézruk).[24] This is a small stick of wood surmounted with tufts of down from ptarmigan (Okozregéwik). All are dressed to represent the totem to which the deceased belongs. One wears a fillet and armlet of wolfskin (Egóalik); others wear armlets of ermine (Táreak); still others are crowned with feathers of the raven (Tulúa) or the hawk (Tciakaúret).[25] After a short dance they withdraw and the day’s ceremony is finished.
The following day the nä́skut assemble again, but they have doffed their fine feathers, and are dressed in their oldest clothes. The suits of the day before they carry in a grass sack. They wear raincoats of sealgut tied about the waist with a belt of dogskin, and enter the kásgi with eyes cast on the floor. Even in the dances they keep their faces from the audience.
This attitude of humility is in accord with Eskimo ethics. They say that if they adopt a boastful air and fail to give as many presents as the other nä́skut they will be ashamed. So they safeguard themselves in advance.
The Ritual
Advancing with downcast eyes, the nä́skut creep softly across the kásgi and take their places before the funeral lamps. Then taking out their festival garments, they slip them on. Immediately the drummers start tapping lightly on their drums, and at a signal from their leader the song of invitation begins. Each nä́skuk advances in turn, invoking the presence of his dead in a sad minor strain.
Toakóra ílyuga takína
Dead brother, come hither
A-yunga-ayunga-a-yunga.
Or:
Nuleága awúnga toakóra
Sister mine, dead one,
Takína, núleaga, takína,
Come hither, sister, come hither.
Or:
Akága awúnga takína
Mother mine, come hither.
Nanáktuk, takína,
We wait for you, come hither.
To which the chorus answer:
Ilyúga awúnga takína,
Our brother, come hither,
Takináka, ilyúga, takínaka,
Return, dead brother, return.
The women advance in line, holding their wands in the right hand, and singing in unison; then the men advance in their turn, then both nä́skut and chorus sing together:
Takinaka, awúnga, tungalika,
Return to us, our dead kinsmen,
Nanakátuk, kineáktuk tungalíka
We wait your home coming, our dead kinsmen.
Suddenly the drummers cease and rap sharply on the inǵlak with their drumsticks. The dancers stop in the midst of their movements and stamp on the floor, first with one foot then with the other, placing their hands on their shoulders, bringing them down over their bodies as though wiping off some unseen thing. Then they slap their thighs and sit down. I am informed that this is to “wipe off” any uncleanness (wahok) that might offend the shades of the dead.
Then the namesakes of the dead troop into the kásgi, and take their places in the center of the room between the two lines. To each, the nä́skuk hands a bowl of water and a kantag of frozen reindeer meat cut into small pieces. The namesakes drop a small portion of the meat on the floor. The essence is evidently thought to pass below to the waiting inua. Then they finish the remainder. At the same time a large amount of frozen meat and fish is brought in and distributed among the guests. This is done at the end of each day.
The fourth day the chorus leader mounts the top of the kásgi and begins again the invitation song. The people scatter to the burying ground or to the ice along the shore according to the spot where they have lain their dead. They dance among the grave boxes so that the shades who have returned to them, when not in the kásgi, may see that they are doing them honor.
During the dancing the children of the village gather in the kásgi, carrying little kantags and sealskin sacks. The women on returning bring great bags of frozen blueberries and reindeer fat, commonly called “Eskimo Ice Cream,” with which they fill the bowls of the children, but the young rogues immediately slip their portions into their sacks (póksrut) and hold out their dishes for more, crying in a deafening chorus, “Wunga-Tū́k” (Me too). This part of the festival is thoroughly enjoyed by the Eskimo, who idolize their children.
At the conclusion of the day’s feast many presents are given away by the nä́skut, the husbands of the female feast givers distributing them for the ladies, who assume a bashful air. During the distribution the nä́skut maintain their deprecatory attitude and pass disparaging remarks on their gifts. Sometimes the presents are attached to a long line of óklinok (seal thong) which the nä́skut haul down through the smokehole, making the line appear as long as possible. At the same time they sing in a mournful key bewailing their relative:
Ah-ka- ilyúga toakóra, tákin,
Oh! oh! dead brother, return,
Utiktutátuk, ilyúga awúnga,
Return to us, our brother,
Illearúqtutuk, ilyúga,
We miss you, dear brother,
Pikeyútum, kokítutuk,
A trifling present we bring you.
The Clothing of the Namesakes
The following day occurs the clothing of the namesakes. This is symbolical of clothing the dead, who ascend into the bodies of their namesakes during the ceremony and take on the spiritual counterpart of the clothing.
After a grand distribution of presents by the nä́skut, bags of fine clothing are lowered to the feast givers and the namesakes take the center of the floor, in front of their relatives, the feast givers. Then each nä́skuk calls out to the particular namesake of his dead kinsman: “Ītakín, illorahug-náka,” “Come hither, my beloved,” and proceeds to remove the clothing of the namesake and put on an entirely new suit of mukluks, trousers, and parka, made of the finest furs. Then the feast giver gathers up the discarded clothing, and stamps vigorously on the floor, bidding the ghost begone to its resting place. It goes, well satisfied, and the dancers disperse until another great festival. Until the feast is concluded no one can leave the village.