The tale of the angakoq’s visit makes the tradition very similar to the Greenland myth of Arnaquagsaq, i.e., the old woman. According to Cranz (p. 264) and to Rink (p. 40) this spirit has her abode in the depth of the ocean. She represents the source of nourishment, supplying the physical wants of mankind. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp, beneath which is placed a vessel which receives the oil that keeps flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, as well as from the dark interior of her hut, she sends out all the animals which serve for food, but in certain cases withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine. The reason for thus withholding the supply was that certain filthy and noxious parasites fastened themselves upon her head, of which she could only be relieved by an angakoq. Then she could be induced again to send out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he (the angakoq) had first to pass the Arsissut and then to cross an abyss, in which, according to the earliest authors, a wheel as slippery as ice was constantly turning around; then, having safely passed a boiling kettle with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which watch was kept by terrible animals, sometimes described as seals, sometimes as dogs; and, lastly, within the house passage itself, he had to cross an abyss by means of a bridge as narrow as a knife edge.
About the same tale is found among the Baffin Land tribes; according to Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., she is called Nanoquagsaq by the Akuliarmiut. She is visited by the angakut, who liberate the sea animals by subduing her or rather by depriving her of a charm by which she restrains the animals.
I am inclined to think that the form in which Lyon gives this tradition is not quite correct, but is a mixture of the Sedna myth and that of the angakoq’s visit to Arnaquagsaq. This seems the more probable from a Greenland tale which Dr. Rink kindly communicated to me, in which it is related that the grandfather of Arnaquagsaq cut off her fingers, which were changed into sea animals.
For this reason it is most probable that Arnaquagsaq, Sedna, and Nuliajoq proceed from the same myth, though the traditions differ from one another as they are related by the travelers. In the mythology of the central tribes this character has a much more decided influence upon their religious belief than the Arnaquagsaq of the Greenlanders seems to have had.
The myth of Sedna is confused with another which treats of the origin of the Europeans and of the Adlet (see [p. 637]). The legends are in part almost identical. Sedna orders her dog to gnaw off her father’s feet; Uinigumisuitung’s children maim their grandfather in the same way; and, besides, Sedna’s second name is also Uinigumisuitung. In both tales the father is called Savirqong. In Lyon’s Private Journal (p. 363) an important statement is found to the effect that the dog which protects Nuliajoq’s dwelling is by some natives called her husband, by others merely her dog, but that he is generally considered the father of Erqigdlit (identical with Adlet, p. 637) and Qadlunait (Europeans).
Finally, I must record the legend of the origin of the walrus and the reindeer, which is closely related to the Sedna tradition. I could never learn any other reason why the use of sea animals and reindeer at the same period should be forbidden, except the fear of offending Sedna. She is represented as disliking the deer, which accordingly are not found in her house. Any reason for this dislike is not given. The Akuliarmiut, however, have a tradition that a woman, most probably Sedna herself, created the walrus and the reindeer during a famine. She opened her belly and took out a small piece of fat which she carried up the hills where it was transformed by a magic spell into a reindeer. As soon as she saw the animal she became frightened and ordered it to run away, but the deer turned upon her and would not go; then she became angry and knocked out its teeth. It turned round at once, but before it could leave she gave it a kick which lopped off its tail. Thus it happened that the deer is deficient as to certain teeth and has scarcely any tail. The woman, however, continued to hate the deer. Afterward she descended to the beach and threw another piece of fat into the water. It was transformed into a walrus, which swam away at once. (According to a communication of Captain Spicer.)
The form of this tradition as related by the Akudnirmiut is somewhat different. During a famine a woman (I could not learn whether she was identical with Sedna or not) carried her boots to the hills and transformed them by magic into deer, which spread all over the country. Then she carried her breeches to the sea, where they were changed into walrus. The first deer, however, had large tusks and no horns, while the walrus had horns and no tusks. The Eskimo soon found that this was very dangerous for the hunter, as the deer killed pursuers with their tusks, while the walrus upset the boats. Therefore an old man transferred the horns to the deer and the tusks to the walrus.
It is very probable that this woman was Sedna, as the Eskimo affirm that the observances referring to walrus and deer are commanded by Sedna and as the first tradition accounts for her dislike of the deer.
I could not find any trace of the tradition reported by Lyon, that Anautalik, Nuliajoq’s father, is the protector of land animals, nor of that of a being to whom he refers by the name of Pukimna (derived from pukiq, the white parts of a deerskin), who lives in a fine country far to the west and who is the immediate protectress of deer, which animals roam in immense herds around her dwelling.
Sedna is the mistress of one of the countries to which the souls go after death. It has been related in the foregoing tradition of Sedna and the fulmar that she descended to Adlivun; since that time she has been the mistress of the country, and when invoked as such has the name of Idliragijenget. She has a large house, in which no deerskins are found. There she lives with her father, each occupying one side of it. The father, who is unable to move, lies on the ledge and is covered with old skins. In the entrance across the threshold lies Sedna’s dog watching her house. Like her, the father has only one eye, and he never moves from his place while in the house.