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