155. WALRUS SKULL AND TUSKS.
The Innuits show great dexterity in the construction of their implements and in the fabrication of their clothing. Their canoes have been the admiration of every voyager in the Arctic regions, and they are wonderfully dexterous in the management of them. Their sledges have the runners made of bits of bone ingeniously tied together with the sinews of the deer. When they wish them to run very smoothly they shoe them with ice, by simply squirting from their mouths a thin stream of water upon the runner, where it congeals in an instant. The “oodloo,” or woman’s knife, is shaped like our common meat-chopper. It is made of bone, merely edged with iron; but in the hands of an Innuit woman it takes the place of the knife, hatchet, scraper, and shears of her civilized sisters. The different kinds of spears and harpoons used in capturing the seal, walrus, and whale are admirably adapted for their purpose. We doubt whether we could improve upon the design, and, with all our facilities in the way of material, very much in the way of execution. The Innuits have clearly given their whole minds to the fabrication of these weapons. They have the bow and arrow, and are quite clever in its employment; but for them it is of little use except in the shooting of birds, for a seal or walrus would not even feel an arrow shot from the strongest bow.
156. THE WOMAN’S KNIFE.
Although the Innuits have never domesticated the reindeer, it yet plays a great part in their economy. Their clothing and bedding is composed almost wholly of deer-skin, which is one of the best non-conductors of heat known. Even when the thermometer marks 70 degrees below the freezing-point, they never use but one for bedding; and Mr. Hall says that he has slept under a dozen of the best woollen blankets and been almost frozen, while a single slender skin kept him abundantly warm. During the summer the deer furnishes a great part of the food of the people. The grass and mosses upon which the deer live are very abundant. Nowhere, except on the prairies of the West, had Hall ever seen such luxuriant pasturage, and the deer in August were so plentiful that they were killed merely for the sake of their hides and tallow, which is a great luxury, fully equal, in Hall’s opinion, to the finest butter. If the Innuits would only store up their provisions in the season of plenty, they need never suffer from famine; but they never do this, and the consequence is that from November till May they are almost always on the verge of starvation, while during the rest of the year they revel in plenty.
157. INNUIT IMPLEMENTS.
As a pendant to Mr. Hall’s account of a seal-feast, we give his description of a reindeer-feast. The date is December, the season of scarcity. “Four months before, they had more deer-meat than they could eat—and the quantity that an Innuit and his dog can consume is something almost incredible. But one day a man came in from a hunting excursion bearing with him a portion of the carcasses of two deer, frozen as hard as a rock. A general invitation for a feast was of course given out; and the entire population, about thirty in all, rushed in. Sampson, the giver of the feast, acted as master of ceremonies. He first made the ladies on the bed give away, so as to clear a space whereon he might do the carving. Then he placed a huge seal-skin on this spot, by way of tablecloth, upon which the frozen carcass was laid. This he began to carve with a hatchet. Slabs of its side were chopped and peeled off; chips of ice flew here and there into the faces of the guests at each stroke of the axe. As fast as the fragments of venison rolled off, other men took the pieces, and by means of a saw and seal-knives reduced them to a size adapted for handling. Then Sampson distributed these bits, one to each, till every mill had its grist to grind. Thus for half an hour Sampson carved; then his hatchet-handle broke off close up to the head. Another axe was sent for, and meanwhile, with the half of a saw, the two saddles were divided into the proper number of pieces, ready for distribution. The carcass was then once more attacked, and the shell was broken, split, and sawed to pieces. In it was the ‘kernel,’ to which all looked with anxious eyes; this was at last divided into as many pieces as there were pieces of saddle, and then one of each was given to every guest. I received my share with gratitude, and, with a piece in each hand, began eating. I bit off a mouthful of the saddle-piece; it was good. I took a morsel of the other; it was delightful: its flavor was a kind of sorrel acid; it had an ambrosial taste; it fairly melted in my mouth. When nearly through, I had the curiosity to crowd my way to a light to see what this delicious frozen food was, for where I sat I was shaded by large forms between me and the firelight. I looked at it, rolled it over, and looked again. Behold, it was the contents of a reindeer’s paunch! On this discovery I stopped feasting for that night.”
Mr. Hall passes judgment upon various other articles of Innuit food. Seal’s blood, smoking hot, is excellent. The skin of the whale, three-quarters of an inch thick, looking like India-rubber, even when raw, is good eating; but when boiled and soused in vinegar, is most excellent. The “gum” of the whale, that is, the substance in which whalebone is set, is a special Innuit delicacy; it looks like cocoa-nut meat, and tastes like unripe chestnuts. Hall could not fully appreciate this; but he adds savingly, “If the struggle was for life, and its preservation depended upon the act, I would undoubtedly eat whale’s gum until I got something better to my liking.” Once a substance which looked like a choice bit from a turkey’s breast was handed to him. He thought he had stumbled upon a delicacy, but after vainly trying to masticate it for half an hour, he found it as solid as when he began. This substance was the ligament lying between the vertebræ of the whale. He had made a mistake in the way of disposing of it. The Innuit mode is to take a huge piece into the mouth, lubricate it thoroughly, and then bolt it whole, as the boa-constrictor swallows a deer. Hall thinks well of the Innuit practice of eating their meat raw, in a sanitary point of view; but he never quite liked it. He never fully came up to the opinion of Mansfield Parkyns, the Abyssinian traveller, who assures us that no man knows what a good beef-steak is until he has eaten it raw, before it has had time to get cold.
The costume of the Innuits is admirably adapted to the climate. The winter dress, commencing with the feet, is thus composed: Long stockings of reindeer skin, with the hairy side next to the person; socks of eider-duck skin, with the feathers on both sides, and of seal-skin with the hair outside; boots, the legs of reindeer skin with the hair outside, the soles of seal-skin. The jacket is of reindeer skin, fitting rather loosely; those of the women have long tails reaching almost to the ground. The ornamentation of the female dress depends on the means and taste of the wearer. One “very pretty style,” mentioned by Mr. Hall, had a fringe of colored beads across the neck, bowls of Britannic-metal tea-spoons down the front flap, and a double row of copper cents, surmounted by a small bell, down the tail, which was bordered by a beading of leaden shot. The jacket has no opening before or behind, but is slipped on over the head. The women’s jacket has a hood which serves a variety of purposes, among others, that of carrying the children. The breeches reach below the knee, and are fastened by a string drawn about the waist. Finger-rings and a head-band of bright brass, complete the fashionable costume.