As barbarous as the poor wretches who submit to his guidance, the Tadibe is incapable of improving their moral condition, and has no wish to do so. Under various names—Schamans among the Tungusi, Angekoks among the Esquimaux, medicine-men among the Crees and Chepewyans, etc.—we find similar magicians or impostors assuming a spiritual dictatorship over all the Arctic nations of the Old and the New World, wherever their authority has not been broken by Christianity or Buddhism; and this dreary faith still extends its influence over at least half a million of souls, from the White Sea to the extremity of Asia, and from the Pacific to Hudson’s Bay.
Like the Ostiaks and other Siberian tribes, the Samoïedes honor the memory of the dead by sacrifices and other ceremonies. They believe that their deceased friends have still the same wants, and pursue the same occupations, as when in the land of the living; and thus they place in or about their graves a sledge, a spear, a cooking-pot, a knife, an axe, etc., to assist them in procuring and preparing their food. At the funeral, and for several years afterwards, the relations sacrifice reindeer over the grave. When a person of note, a prince, a Starschina, the proprietor of numerous herds of reindeer, dies (for even among the miserable Samoïedes we find the social distinctions of rich and poor), the nearest relations make an image, which is placed in the tent of the deceased, and enjoys the respect paid to him during his lifetime. At every meal the image is placed in his former seat, and every evening it is undressed and laid down in his bed. During three years the image is thus honored, and then buried; for by this time the body is supposed to be decayed, and to have lost all sensation of the past. The souls of the Tadibes, and of those who have died a violent death, alone enjoy the privilege of immortality, and after their terrestrial life hover about in the air as unsubstantial spirits.
Yet in spite of this privilege, and of the savory morsels that fall to their share at every sacrificial feast, or of the presents received for their services, the Tadibes are very unhappy beings. The ecstatic condition into which they so frequently work themselves shatters their nerves and darkens their mind. Wild looks, bloodshot eyes, an uncertain gait, and a shy manner, are among the effects of this periodical excitement.
Like the Ostiaks, the Samoïedes consider the taking of an oath as an action of the highest religious importance. When a crime has been secretly committed against a Samoïede, he has the right to demand an oath from the suspected person.
If no wooden or stone Hahe is at hand, he manufactures one of earth or snow, leads his opponent to the image, sacrifices a dog, breaks the image, and then addresses him with the following words:—“If thou hast committed this crime, then must thou perish like this dog.” The ill consequences of perjury are so much dreaded by the Samoïedes—who, though they have but very faint ideas of a future state, firmly believe that crime will be punished in this life, murder with violent death, or robbery by losses of reindeer—that the true criminal, when called upon to swear, hardly ever submits to the ceremony, but rather at once confesses his guilt and pays the penalty.
The most effectual security for an oath is that it should be solemnized over the snout of a bear—an animal which is highly revered by all the Siberian tribes, from the Kamchatkans to the Samoïedes, as well as by the Laplanders. Like the Laplanders, they believe that the bear conceals under his shaggy coat a human shape with more than human wisdom, and speak of him in terms of the highest reverence. Like the Lapps also, when occasion offers, they will drive an arrow or a bullet through his skin; but they preface the attack with so many compliments that they feel sure of disarming his anger.
The appearance of the Samoïedes is as wild as the country which they inhabit. The dwarfish stature of the Ostiak, or the Lapp, thick lips, small eyes, a low forehead, a broad nose so much flattened that the end is nearly upon a level with the bone of the upper jaw (which is strong and greatly elevated), raven-black shaggy hair, a thin beard, and a yellow-brown complexion, are their characteristic features, and in general they do nothing to improve a form which has but little natural beauty to boast of. The Samoïede is satisfied if his heavy reindeer dress affords him protection against the cold and rain, and cares little if it be dirty or ill-cut; some dandies, however, wear furs trimmed with cloth of a gaudy color. The women, as long as they are unmarried, take some pains with their persons; and when a Samoïede girl, with her small and lively black eyes, appears in her reindeer jacket tightly fitting round the waist, and trimmed with dog-skin, in her scarlet moccasins, and her long black tresses ornamented with pieces of brass or tin, she may well tempt some rich admirer to offer a whole herd of reindeer for her hand. For among the Samoïedes no father ever thinks of bestowing a portion on his daughter: on the contrary, he expects from the bridegroom an equivalent for the services which he is about to lose by her marriage. The consequence of this degrading custom is that the husband treats his consort like a slave, or as an inferior being. A Samoïede, who had murdered his wife, was quite surprised at being summoned before a court of justice for what he considered a trifling offense; “he had honestly paid for her,” he said, “and could surely do what he liked with his own.”
The senses and faculties of the Samoïedes correspond to their mode of life as nomads and hunters. They have a piercing eye, delicate hearing, and a steady hand: they shoot an arrow with great accuracy, and are swift runners. On the other hand, they have a gross taste, generally consuming their fish or their reindeer flesh raw; and their smell is so weak that they appear quite insensible to the putrefying odors arising from the scrapings of skins, stinking fish, and other offal which is allowed to accumulate in and about their huts.
The Samoïede is good-natured, melancholy, and phlegmatic. He has, indeed, but indistinct notions of right and wrong, of good and evil; but he possesses a grateful heart, and is ready to divide his last morsel with his friend. Cruelty, revenge, the darker crimes that pollute so many of the savage tribes of the tropical zone, are foreign to his character. Constantly at war with a dreadful climate, a prey to ignorance and poverty, he regards most of the things of this life with supreme indifference. A good meal is of course a matter of importance in his eyes; but even the want of a meal he will bear with stoical apathy, when it can only be gained by exertion, for he sets a still higher value on repose and sleep.
A common trait in the character of all Samoïedes is the gloomy view which they take of life and its concerns; their internal world is as cheerless as that which surrounds them. True men of ice and snow, they relinquish, without a murmur, a life which they can hardly love, as it imposes upon them many privations, and affords them but few pleasures in return.