ANGEKOK.
The angekok, or medicine man, is believed by the other Eskimos to possess supernatural powers, whereby he can charm away sickness, lighten the displeasure of Nuliayok when she sends famine and misfortune to the band, put the evil-eye or something similar on those who displease him, and see into the future. He is supposed to do this by the aid of a familiar spirit called his tonwak, which usually assumes the form of some animal—often that of a walrus.
To become an angekok it is necessary to receive instructions in the mysteries from some other angekok, and usually more than one take part in the instruction and initiation of the candidate. After being instructed, the novice has a series of incantations performed over him by the assembled angekoks, who dance round him, uttering charms. He is then taken to his home and left for several days in solitude, during which time he meditates and prays for his tonwak to appear; this usually happens after several days, when all that remains to make him a full-fledged angekok is to learn words used by them and unknown to the uninitiated.
The angekok prepares for a séance, either behind a blanket in the tent or in the porch of the snow-house. Some of them appear to be able to work themselves into a sort of mesmeric trance, when they pretend to be able to transport their spirits to distant scenes and tell what is happening there. They also undertake to foretell the results of future hunts, and whether success or failure will follow certain undertakings. In sickness the angekok works all his cures by charms, the Eskimos being entirely without medicines. He ascribes all sickness to the breaking of certain taboos, either by the sick person or by some close relative.
They perform a number of simple conjuring tricks for the benefit of their audience. I was present at a séance at Cape Fullerton, where two angekoks officiated. They made their preparations in the porch out of sight of the audience, who were arranged in rows on the bed, and who all kept crying ‘atte atte,’ inviting the angekok to enter. Each woman wore a small piece of deerskin on the top of her head. A long conversation was held with the angekok outside, before he finally entered. He first essayed to describe the place whence I came, and in this he was not very successful. He then told us the locality of the Eskimos who had taken our mail south some weeks before; this ended the first part of the performance. The next time, he entered in the form of his familiar spirit, the walrus, and to simulate it had a pair of small tusks fastened into his mouth. Being angry, he tried to strike the natives with the tusks, and was only prevented by considerable force. He was finally ejected, and pursued by the other angekok, who could be heard chasing the walrus several times over the iglo. A violent struggle ensued. The pursuer returned to the iglo a few minutes later with his hands and arms covered with blood, claimed to be that of the walrus spirit. The other came in, a few minutes later, quite unconcerned about the amount of blood he was supposed to have lost. The second angekok now attempted the same trick, but during the scuffle inside the iglo caught one of his tusks in a coat, which pulled it from his mouth. He immediately retired, and felt very bad about the mishap. Later he came to me and asked to be excused from working the next day, which he must spend alone appeasing his tonwak, while all his household had to fast for twenty-four hours. The final act was performed by the successful angekok, who said that he would attempt to make some angekok tobacco. While he was making his preparations a number of fresh blocks of snow were brought in, and a depression hollowed out in each for cuspidors, as no person must spit on the floor after smoking angekok tobacco. He explained that angekok tobacco tasted differently from ordinary tobacco, and that if we found this peculiar taste, of course the thing was proved. He then clumsily palmed a small piece of black tobacco between his hands, and shredded it fine, after which it was placed in a new clay pipe, lighted, and passed round the assembly.
AMUSEMENTS.
The Eskimos are firm believers in the old adage that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and all join heartily in outdoor and indoor sports. Football is the popular outdoor amusement, and men, women and children join in kicking about the ice a ball of feathers or deer hair covered with deerskin. There do not appear to be any rules, each playing for himself. There is another ball game, where the ball is batted with the open hand backwards and forwards, the object being to prevent it from touching the ground. Wrestling is indulged in by the young men; in this no tripping is allowed, and a throw must be made from a shoulder hold. Boxing as we understand it is not practised, but they have hitting contests, where one man stands unguarded and allows another to hit him as powerful a blow as he is capable of, on the understanding that the blow may be returned under similar conditions. When such a contest takes place between strangers it often leads to the vanquished one, if at home, revenging himself upon the stranger with his knife, and altogether this is a rather dangerous pastime for grown men, although good for boys. The children play out-of-doors during the daylight, having usually miniature sleds to which they attach themselves, or the pups.
Among the indoor amusements are a number of games of skill. A very popular game is played by suspending a small ring of ivory by a string to the roof; another string, steadied by a weight, hangs below the ring, often in a vessel of water to prevent it swinging too violently. The string is twisted so that the ring revolves rapidly, and all stand round and attempt to pierce it with small wooded lances. A prize is given to the first successful one, who in turn donates a prize to the second, and so on. Another game is a variety of the cup-and-ball game. A piece of ivory, roughly carved to represent a bear or some other animal, is pierced full of holes and is attached by a short string to a small ivory pencil. The play consists in tossing the large piece into the air and piercing it with the stylus, different values being assigned to the different holes. Cat’s-cradle is the constant amusement of the women and children, and they have a great number of figures unknown to the ordinary player in civilization. The Eskimos do not appear to have the gambling spirit strongly developed, and have few games of chance. One of these consists in guessing the number of articles held in the closed hand; another is played with small slabs of ivory, resembling dominoes, but having a greater number of spots on them; the slabs are thrown in the air, and the number of spots are counted on the slabs that fall right side up. A circular disc of ivory, usually with sawn edges, is threaded on a loop of sinew and made to revolve in the same manner as our own small boy spins a large button.
The girls have dolls made of wood, and cleverly clothed to represent their elders. The carving of walrus ivory passes many an hour of the long winter. As a rule the carvings are rude representations of various animals and other animate objects, and have no high value as objects of art, but occasionally there arises a real artist, who when encouraged will produce wonderfully artistic models of the various animals, men, dog-sleds and almost anything suggested to him. Others are expert in making models of kyaks and hunting gear.
A common amusement, accompanied by more or less ceremony, is the sing-song. When such a performance takes place all the natives of the band congregate in one of the larger houses, sitting around on every available spot. The writer attended one of these sing-songs given in honour of some visiting natives at Cape Fullerton. The ceremony commenced by an elderly native standing out in the middle of the floor space, and beginning to hop gently about. His wife then started the song, being accompanied in the chorus by the other women of his band. The song is sung a line at a time, in a minor key, the air being confined to about three notes. After each line the chorus of two lines is sung, and is somewhat like, ‘Ai yea yae yaeyaeya yae’ repeated twice. While the song is in progress the man dances and hops about the floor, occasionally uttering in a loud voice, we-hew! we-hew! The song belongs to the man, and is his own composition, and is composed in a rough metre to suit the air, but does not rhyme, and no great attention is paid to the rhythm. The sentiments are at times poetic. In this particular song praise was given to the springtime, and a longing was expressed for its arrival; mention was also made of the trials of women at childbirth, and wishes were formulated for good luck to the hunters. The song continued upwards of an hour, after which one of the strangers was invited to sing, and on his taking the floor was presented by the old man with a hatchet as a mark of courtesy. The stranger was a Kenipitu from Chesterfield inlet, and as he was not accompanied by his wife he had himself to sing his song, which he did in a loud voice. The Kenipitu women of the neighbourhood loyally supported him in the chorus. He first thanked the donor of the hatchet for his magnificent present, of which he would make valuable use. He next described the country from whence he came, and said that he was acquainted with the hunting of the sea animals. He expressed a wish to be a great and successful hunter, and deprecated the waste of animals killed for food. By this time he was fairly exhausted and his voice became very hoarse. He was followed by another of the Aivillik tribe, but as there is a limit to the amount of foul air and pungent odour that a white man can stand, it was at this stage of the proceedings that the writer fled.