(2.) ESQUIMAUX SLEDGE DRIVING.
(See [pages 1345], [1346].)
“Accordingly, every time I came to him he got no fish, and though he changed his position three times, yet he got nothing. Now, if ever there was a picture of disappointed plans—of envy at others’ fortunes, and sorrow at a sad misfortune—it was to be found in that dog’s countenance as he watched his companions receiving their allowance. Finding that he could not succeed by any change of his position, he withdrew from the circle to where I was, and came to me, crowding his way between my legs, and looked up in my face as if to say, ‘I have been a very bad dog. Forgive me, and Barbekark will cheat his brother dogs no more. Please, sir, give me my share of capelins.’ I went the rounds three times more, and let him have the fish, as he had shown himself so sagacious, and so much like a repentant prodigal dog.”
Marriage among the Esquimaux is of the very simplest description, and is generally arranged by the parents of the bride and bridegroom, the latter having nothing to do with the affair. There is no marriage ceremony, the parties merely going to live in the same igloo. A man may, and often does, have several wives, and in this case one of them takes the position of the chief, or igloo wife, and is supreme under her husband. She has the largest lamp, the best bed, and the best provision. But she also has the entire management of the household, such as cooking the food, and drying the clothes on the “dry-net.” This is by no means a sinecure, as it forces her to rise many times in the night for the purpose of turning the clothes and drying them equally. She also has to see that the boots are properly “milled.”
After a child is born, the mother is obliged to confine herself to her own igloo for some months, and when the allotted time has expired, she throws off all the clothing which she has worn, and never wears it again. She then dresses herself in a totally new suit of clothes, and visits in succession the inhabitants of every igloo. If a second or third child be born, a separate igloo is always built for the mother, to which she repairs before the birth of the child, and in which she remains until the customary time has elapsed and she is able to call upon her neighbors.
The children begin their education at a very early age; the boys being taught to paddle the kia, to hunt and to fish, and to build igloos; while the girls learn to row the women’s boat, to dress skins, to manage the lamp, to cook, and perform the multitudinous tasks that fall to their lot. The carving of the Esquimaux women is wonderfully good. They make spirited, though conventional, imitations of fish, ducks, dogs, and various animals, from ivory, using in the manufacture nothing but a knife. In the earlier days, before white men visited them, the Esquimaux were obliged to rely entirely upon flint as a material for their knives, which were exactly like those of the ancient and perished races. In chopping the flakes off the flint, the Esquimaux employed a very simple instrument, the use of which showed an exact knowledge of the fracture-line of flint. It is made of bone and ivory, and is about six inches in length. Iron, indeed, is of so late introduction, that when Captain Lyon visited the natives, in 1821, he could purchase a complete harpoon, with its ivory head, float, and line, for a nail; while a knife would purchase a kia, or indeed anything that was asked in exchange for it.
As may be inferred from the climate, the games of the Esquimaux are but few. They are wonderful experts at a sort of “cat’s-cradle,” producing with a piece of string imitations of seals, reindeer, ducks, canoes, and other objects. The little ivory models of ducks and other animals, which have already been mentioned, are used in several of the native games.
Their dances are remarkable for their simplicity, the dancer inventing the steps according to his own taste. There is a dance in which a number of women stand in a ring, with their hands under the front flaps of their jackets, and sing, with half-closed eyes, the inevitable Amna-aya song: these are the band. The dancers are represented by one man, who takes his place in the middle of the ring, swings his head and arms from side to side, his long, lank hair flapping in the wind, while he utters sharp yells at intervals, and occasionally flings one leg as high as his thick garments permit.
The women have a special dance of their own, which consists in kneeling on the ground, leaping to their feet as fast as they can. This is really a difficult task when the heavy and clumsy boots are taken into consideration. Sometimes the men challenge each other to dance, and in that case the challenge is accepted by employing the “koonik,” or national salutation, which is given by rubbing the noses together, and inhaling strongly through the nostrils.
With regard to religion, the Esquimaux seem to have no very definite idea of the subject, except that they believe in a future existence, in a heaven and a hell—the latter being, according to their ideas, dark, full of ice, with snow-storms always blowing, and no seals. They have also a hazy description of a Supreme Being, and a secondary female divinity, the special protector of the Esquimaux.
By way of worship, they have sundry medicine men, or “angekos,” as they are called, who go through a series of strange ceremonies on various occasions, such as illness, or when a party is setting out on a hunting expedition. They make the people pay heavily for their services, and rule with a rod of iron, so that no Esquimaux is likely to retain possession of any valuable piece of property if an angeko should happen to be in the neighborhood. They act upon a very simple and intelligent principle, namely, that the amount of success in “ankooting,” or divining, is in exact ratio with the amount of pay.