It was during the earlier days of the past century that a small amount of the strong Russian tobacco found its way through Siberia and across the Behring Straits. "Nanoona" was a great traveler for those days, and had ventured as far south as what is now known as the Seward Peninsula. Obtaining some of the tobacco, he returned to his home, and the news soon spread that "Nanoona" could actually swallow fire and then belch forth smoke. The thing seemed incredible; it even surpassed the doings of the wonderful "Ongootkoot" who was very successful in driving off eclipses, thereby saving the villagers from some terrible catastrophes. At the appointed time the people gathered, filling "Nanoona's" iglo; even the roof was packed. The seal-gut window having been removed, the people gathered there several rows deep, all desirous of witnessing the wonderful act.
Our hero no doubt felt the importance of the occasion and filled his pipe more times than his discretion should have allowed; first came the stage of exhilaration, the world looked beautiful, and he spoke entertainingly of the traditions of the past, a subject that is always interesting to an Inupash, even if he has already heard them many times; then came the well-known after effects, which nearly all beginners with the weed experience.
His transient indisposition served as no warning to the people; neither did the odor of the smoke that they had been forced to shield their noses from. Had they not seen him swallow fire and belch forth smoke? Had they not seen him during the stage of exhilaration? They all wished to pass through a similar experience, but tobacco was scarce and held at a fabulous price. One pull at the pipe was worth two dressed sealskins; or a pipeful of the weed, affording two good swallows, cost two deerskins. Only the wealthy could afford such a luxury.
"Nanoona" has long since gone to his rest, but his name remains green among the villagers. To-day the traveler can see his elevated grave at Tigmeārook, about six miles east of the village of Tigara, at which place his career came to a sudden end through the agency of an arrow driven by the bow of an enemy.
XX
WINTER EVENINGS AND STORIES
The inhabitants of the busy world have no end of amusements, besides their newspapers and magazines with which to pass their leisure hours. It is not so with the less fortunate inhabitants of the far north. Their winter evenings are long and their homes but dimly lighted by the seal-oil lamps. To the uninitiated, it would seem a dreary sight, yet the people have their enjoyment in the shape of an occasional dance, a most innocent form of amusement, being as much singing as dancing, accompanied by the beating of the one-headed drum.
The dancer stands up and makes a few graceful movements with the arms, as well as limbering at the knee joints, then sits down. Others go through the same motions in their turn, while the audience does the singing. Their main festivities occur at the full of the moon, in the month of "Nekanok-kochevik," corresponding to our December, at which time, besides the dancing and feasting, presents are given by the leading men.
Their other form of amusement is story-telling. The stories may be old, but that makes no difference to an Inupash, he is one of the most attentive listeners, no matter how many times he may have heard the same tale before. The repetition has the advantage of fixing the story in the minds of the people, enabling them to retain and pass down their traditions from one generation to another for an immensely long period of time. Outside of their traditions, their stories deal largely with the supernatural in the form of ghosts and fairies. Occasionally, one may hear a fable that apparently has a moral attached. The following are a few of the stories that mothers interest their children with, and that are eagerly listened to by the older ones also:—