Our Arctic province

by Henry Wood Elliott

Of the tribal organization of these people but little is known: yet, there seems to be no recognized chieftainship—each isolated settlement generally contains one man who makes himself prominent by superintending all intercourse and traffic with visitors. The profits accruing to him from this position give him some slight influence among his people; but the oomailik (oomuialik of Zagoskin), as these middlemen or spokesmen are called, possess no authority over the people of their village, who pay far more attention to the advice or threats of sorcerers, shamans, or “medicine men.” In the festivals, consisting of feasting, singing, and dancing, with which these hyperboreans while away the long winter nights, the shamans also play a prominent part, directing the order of the performances and the manufacture of masks, costumes, etc., while the oomailik or spokesman sinks back into insignificance for the time being.

All these games, both private and public, take place in the kashga. At the public performances the dancers and singers, men and women, stand around the fire-hole; and the men, to the time of the drum and the singing, go through various contortions of the body, shifting from one foot to the other without moving from the spot, the skill of the dancer being displayed only in the endurance and flexibility of his muscles. The women, on the other hand, with their eyes cast down, motionless, with the exception of a spasmodic twitching of the hands, stand around in a circle, forming, we may say, a living frame to the animated picture within. The less motion a dancer displays the greater his skill. There is nothing indecent in the dances of our sea-board natives. The dancing dress of the men consists of short tight drawers made of white reindeer-skin and the summer boots of soft moose-hide, while the women on those occasions only add ornaments, such as rings and bracelets and bead-pendants, to their common dress, frequently weighting themselves down with ten or fifteen pounds of these baubles.

An entertainment of the women was described by Zagoskin as follows:

“We entered the kashga by the common passage and found the guests already assembled, but of the landladies nothing was to be seen. On three sides of the apartment stone lamps were lighted; the fire-hole was covered with boards, one of them having a circular opening, through which the women were to make their appearance. Two other burning lamps were placed in front of the fire-hole. The guests then formed a chorus and began to sing to the sound of the drum, two men keeping them in order by beating time with sticks adorned with wolfs’ tails and gulls’ wings. Thus a good half-hour passed by. Of the song my interpreter told me that it consisted of pleasantry directed against the women; that it was evident they had nothing to give, as they had not shown themselves for so long a time. Another song praised the housewifely accomplishments of some woman whose appearance was impatiently expected with a promised trencher of the mixed mess of reindeer-fat and berries. No sooner was this song finished than that woman appeared and was received with the greatest enthusiasm. The dish was set before the men, and she retreated amid vociferous compliments on her culinary skill. She was followed by another woman. The beating of drums increased in violence and the wording of the song was changed. Standing up in the centre of the circle this woman began to relate, in mimicry and gesture, how she obtained the fat, how she stored it in various receptacles, how she cleansed and melted it, and then, placing a kantag upon her head, she invited the spectators with gestures to approach. The song went on, while eagerness to partake of the promised luxury lighted up the faces of the crowd. At last the wooden spoons were distributed, one to each man, and nothing was heard for a time but the guzzling of the luscious fluid. Another woman advanced, followed still by another, and luxuries of all kinds were produced in quick succession and as quickly despatched, while the singers pointedly alluded to the praiseworthy Russian custom of distributing tobacco. When the desired article had been produced, a woman then represented with great skill all the various stages of stupefaction resulting from smoking and snuffing. The women dressed in men’s parkas.”

A man’s entertainment witnessed by Zagoskin took place in the same village. The preparatory arrangements were similar; one of the women, a sorceress, lead the chorus. Her first song on that occasion praised a propensity of the Russian for making presents of tobacco, rings, and other trifles to women, who, in their turn, were always ready to oblige them. This, however, was only introductory, the real entertainment beginning with a chorus of men concealed in the fire-hole. The gist of their chant was that trapping, hunting, and trade were bad, that nothing could be made, and that they could only sing and dance to please their wives. To this the women answered that they had long been aware of the laziness of their husbands, who could do nothing but bathe and smoke, and that they did not expect to see any food produced, such as the women had placed before them, consequently it would be better to go to bed at once. The men answered that they would go and hunt for something, and shortly one of them appeared through the opening. This mimic, who was attired in female apparel, with bead-pendants in his nose, deep fringes of wolverine tails, bracelets, and rings, imitated in a most admirable and humorous manner the motions and gestures of the women in presenting their luxuries, and then gave imitations of the various female pursuits and labor, the guests chuckling with satisfaction. Suddenly the parka was thrown off, and the man began to represent how he hunted the mahklok, seated in his kayak, which performance ended with the production of a whole boiled mahklok, of which Zagoskin received the throat as his portion. Others represented a reindeer-hunt, the spearing of birds, the rendering of beluga-blubber, the preparation of seal-intestines for water-proof garments, the splitting of deer-tendons into thread, and so forth. One young orphan who, possessing nothing wherewith to treat the guests, brought on a kantag filled with water, which was drunk by the women amid much merriment. It sometimes happens on these occasions that lovers of fun sprinkle the women with oil, or with that fluid which they use in place of soap, squirted from small bladders concealed about their persons; and such jokes are never resented.

Another festival, in honor of the spirits of the sea (ugiak), is celebrated by the coast tribes during a whole month. The preparations for this gathering begin early in the autumn. Every hunter preserves during an entire year the bladders from all such animals as he kills with arrows; the mothers also save with the greatest care the bladders of all rats, mice, ground-squirrels, or other small animals killed by their children. At the beginning of December all these bladders are inflated, painted in various colors, and suspended in the kashga; and among them the men hang up a number of fantastically carved figures of birds and fish. Some of the figures of birds are quite ingeniously contrived, with movable eyes, heads, and legs, and are able to flap their wings. Before the fireplace there is a huge block wrapped up in dry grass. From morning until night these carved figures are kept in motion by means of strings, and during the whole time a chanting of songs continues, while dry grass and weeds are burned to smoke the suspended bladders. This fumigating process ends the day’s performances, which are begun anew in the morning. In the evening of that culminating day of this festival those strings of bladders are taken down and carried by men upon painted sticks prepared for the occasion; the women, with torches in their hands, accompany them to the sea-shore. Arrived there, the bladders are tied to sticks and weighted with stones, and finally thrown into the water, where they are watched with the greatest interest to see how long they float upon the surface. From the time of sinking and the number of rings upon the water where a bladder has disappeared the shamans prophesy success or misfortune in hunting during the coming year.

A final memorial feast in honor of a distinguished ancestor is conducted as follows:

Eight old men clad in parkas enter the kashga, or council-house, each carrying a stone lamp, which they deposit around the fire-hole. They next produce three small mats and spread them upon the floor in three corners of the building, and from the spectators three men are selected who are willing to go to the grave. The three nearest relatives of the deceased then seat themselves on the mats and divest themselves of all their clothing, wash their bodies, and don new clothes, girding themselves with belts manufactured several generations back and preserved as heirlooms in the family. To each of these men a staff is given, and they advance together to the centre of the kashga, when the oldest among the invited guests sends them forth to call the dead. These messengers leave the building, followed by the givers of this feast. After an absence of ten minutes the former return, and through the underground passage the whole population of the village crowds in, from the old and feeble down to children at the breast, and with them come the masters of ceremonies, wearing long seal-skin gloves, and strings of sea-parrot bills hanging about the breast and arms, with elaborate belts nearly a foot in width, consisting of white bellies of unborn fawns trimmed with wolverine tails. All such ornaments are carefully preserved and handed down from generation to generation, some of them being made of white sable—an exceedingly rare skin—for which high prices are paid, as much as twenty or thirty beavers or otters for one small skin. The women hold in their hands one or two eagle-feathers, and tie around the head a narrow strip of white sable. Each family, grouping itself behind its own stone lamp, chants in turn in mournful measure a song composed for the occasion. These songs are almost indefinitely prolonged by inserting the names of all the relatives of the deceased, living and dead. The singers stand motionless in their places, and many of those present are weeping. When a “song of the dead” is concluded the people seat themselves, and their usual feasting and gorging ensues. The next morning, after a bath (indulged in by all the males), the multitude again assembles in this kashga. The chanting around the fire-hole is renewed in the same mournful tone, until one old man seizes a bladder drum and takes the lead, accompanied by a few singers, and followed in procession by all participants in the feast. They walk slowly to every sepulchre in succession, halting before each to chant a mourning song; all visitors not belonging to the bereaved families in the meantime crowd upon the sodded roofs of the houses and watch these proceedings. In the evening all that remains of food in the village is set before the people, and when every kantag is scraped of the last remnant of its contents the feast is ended; then those visitors at once depart for their homes.

Occasionally the giver of such a feast, desiring to do special honor to the object of it, passes three days sitting naked upon a mat in a corner of his kashga, without food or drink, chanting a song in praise of a dead relative. At the end of such a fast any or all visitors present gifts to him; the story of his achievement is carried abroad, and he is made famous for life among his fellows.