Lines for the seal spear, hauling lines for the boat or sled, and all lashings, are made from the skin of the giant seal, treated as above, then cut into long strings.
All the stone implements that were formerly in use have been rendered obsolete by the introduction of iron, and it is now difficult to procure any of these old reminders of the past.
XV
MUSIC
The Polarites have but two musical instruments, the "ahtooktoora," or one-string fiddle, and the "calown," or one-headed drum. The latter is by far the more important, being used on all festive occasions both to beat time for the dancers and also to accompany the singers.
Many of the songs of these people relate fragments of tradition, while others deal with a crude mythology. There is yet another class, looked upon as prayers; some of these are very old, and are highly treasured by the possessors, being guarded as great secrets. When a father is about to pass away, he will call his son and impart to him the song as a legacy. No one else is allowed to be present on such an occasion, it being regarded in the same solemn light as a dying parent's blessing. The son in his turn, when he has grown old, and is about ready to take leave of the world, will impart the song to the next one in line of inheritance. These heirlooms have descended through families from one generation to another for an immense length of time. They are supposed to have a mystic charm and are never sung loud, but are hummed in a low voice. No outsider is allowed to learn the words or hear the tunes. If a seal on the ice is very watchful, the hunter that has received such a legacy will lie still and sing the magic words, at which the animal is supposed to go to sleep and so be readily approached. The same is said about the whale; if it has been struck, and there is danger of its being lost, the initiated will sing the magic words, after which the whale can be captured.
One song of the first named class relates the experiences of a young woman. Her parents, who are growing old, are desirous that she should choose a husband from among the young men of the village. She, refusing to do so, selects a skull as her lover. Her mother is indignant, and one day during the daughter's absence accuses her son-in-law of keeping her awake the previous night by too much whispering. Taking a stick she thrusts it into the eye socket, then tosses the skull out-of-doors. The wind rolls it down the beach and far out into the ocean. The daughter, on returning and finding her lover absent, eagerly inquires where he is. On going outside the trail of the skull is discovered and followed to the water. A mouse coming along the trail is killed and, on its being thrown into the ocean, a path is made visible which leads down into the shades. There the lover is found; he has grown a new body and is living with two old women. The young woman is overjoyed at finding her Orpheus, but he, pointing to the wound in the eye, tells her that her mother was the cause of it and refuses to return with her. She mournfully retraces her steps to earth and decides to choose the other road thence leading to Paradise.
Taking the winding path that ascends toward the sky, she finds that the scene grows more enchanting as she proceeds. At last she arrives at the moon, where everything is found to be most beautiful. After viewing the amazing scene, she expresses a desire to cast her eyes upon the earth again, but the keeper refuses to open the door. Finally, however, her earnest pleadings have the desired effect, and he concedes to her request by opening the door a little. While she is looking down, a great shout is heard, as the villagers cry out, "There's the new moon!" One man, taking a cup, tosses water so high that it enters the door of the moon; at the same time he shouts, "Send me a whale." A second man does the same, but tosses the water only a short distance, for he has met with disappointment in his whaling. All these scenes, with the distinctness of the voices, have the effect of making her homesick to return to the village. She pleads with the doorkeeper to allow her to retrace her steps, but he declares that the path has vanished, and that no one entering the moon can return by the same road. She, becoming disconsolate, is at last informed that if she will braid a rope long enough to reach the earth a descent can be made by that means; so she sets to work and after diligent labor the task is ultimately completed. As she starts to lower herself, the doorkeeper tells her to keep her eyes closed until her feet touch the ground, and following his instructions she at last reaches the earth once more.