Kasba (White Partridge): A Story of Hudson Bay

by George R. Ray

For this occasion the iglo was lit by candles of home manufacture, these being tapering pieces of dry moss and balls of grease. The bands of brass across the foreheads of the women shining brightly in the subdued light; the circle of hungry Eskimos devouring their food like as many ravenous animals; the shadowy, indistinct figures of the old folk seated on the outskirts of the throng, and the bright faces of the children watching the assembly with keen and earnest eyes, all combined to make the scene grotesquely weird. And the tap-tapping of the drum went steadily on.

When the circle of hunters had satisfied their rapacious appetites, it slowly dissolved. Then, snickering and joking, the women formed themselves into a circle and the ball was opened by Acpa, who stepped into the centre of the ring, carrying a drum in his hand.

This peculiar instrument consisted of a piece of parchment stretched tightly across a wooden hoop with a straight handle attached. The parchment was dampened before each performance, a tuning process as novel as simple. Acpa struck the rim of the drum, the top and bottom alternately, against a stick, held in the left hand, while shuffling his feet in a semblance of step dancing, then striking the drum in the centre a few times, he threw back his grand old head and gazed up at the top of the iglo—seemingly for inspiration—then fell to shouting, the shouts diminishing in volume as they increased in rapidity. “Oh-ee, oh-ee, oh-ee, oh-ee-ee, oh-ee-ee, oh-ee-ee!” This was the cue for the women’s chorus, and they now rocked themselves backwards and forwards, repeating in high-pitched voices: “Ya-ya, ya-a-ya, ya-ya,” while the old man composed his song as he went along. The sentiments were at times poetic. He first thanked the “master” for coming to see him and expressed a wish that he would be satisfied with his trip. Then he spoke of his work and the work of the other Eskimos of the encampment and many other things in the daily lives of himself and companions. Occasionally he lapsed into the monotonous Ya-ya of the chorus, or fell to shouting Oh-ee, oh-ee, but the drum beating was continuous.

Afterwards several other men followed in this unique individual dance and then came the turn of the perspiring chorus to disport themselves. But the women’s rôle was the exact opposite of that of the men, for they danced two at a time and at first were as silent as nuns, and they used no drum. Staring each other straight in the eyes they shuffled their feet, repeating queer words wheezily at the back of their throats, all accompanied by a peculiar indrawing of the breath. Many gestures accompanied this uncanny performance, such as pointing derisive fingers at each other, this meaning “I think very little of you,” pointing upwards and downwards (the significance of which seemed in doubt) and lustily slapping their cheeks and patting their breasts. Evidently this was a dance of endurance, but at last the final pair fell panting and exhausted, and, taking advantage of this respite, Roy hastened to shake hands with all present and to leave the iglo.

The gleam of dawn spread in one golden glow of morning, and the day rose radiant over the world. The com-it-uks were “light” and the dogs travelled quickly, and the sun was still high when our little party got back to the camp they had made on the previous day, and, the wind being in the same direction as when the camp was constructed, it was ready for their use and their labors were thus lightened.

Supper over, Minnihak went to inspect a trap he had set when they were there before. Roy stretched himself on the outside of his bedding and lay dozing, while Delgezie occupied himself making “cakes” for the morrow. He had been employed in this manner for some time when he heard a slight crunching sound as of something moving over the snow. He thought it was the Eskimo returning from his quest and did not lift his eyes. But as the moments went by and no Eskimo appeared, he raised himself slowly and looked around. A large wolf stood before him on the very edge of the camp.

It was watching Delgezie with a wicked snarl that left bare its ugly fangs. The hair along its backbone stood up stiffly and its eyes gleamed threateningly. It looked fiercely hungry and Delgezie expected it to spring at him, but it stood motionless and the old man’s eyes searched the camp for a gun, but he could see no weapon, and then he remembered that the guns had been left outside. He uttered a grunt of indignation—that a lone wolf should invade his camp, seemingly as the aggressor, was, for the old Indian, a new experience. Keeping his eyes fixed on the wolf, Delgezie stealthily reached for a billet of wood. The animal watched him furtively; its long white fangs snapped and it crouched as if about to spring, but something in the old man’s unperturbed pose and steady eye seemed to awe the beast and hold it aloof. Delgezie felt cautiously for the billet, a particular piece of green wood which as he knew lay beside the fire. He dared not withdraw his gaze, and could only grope blindly.

Suddenly he uttered a terrific yell and came upright with a bound. Feeling for the billet, he had missed that which he sought and grasped one that was burning. At the sudden and unexpected loud noise the wolf wheeled quickly and fled away.

Delgezie’s yell brought Roy sharply to his feet.

“What in the world’s the matter, man?” he demanded.