During my fifteen years of experience with the Eskimos, I have seen little of the savage treachery which is so frequently alluded to. Quite the contrary. These people are subservient to us in a most gratifying way. It is true that in the beginning of our adventures, they were inclined to scoff at our awkward adaptation to Polar conditions; but as we acquainted them with the use of compass, etc., their laughter soon changed to expressions of admiration and wonder.
The position of the sun and the movements of the stars, are the Eskimos’ gauges for time and location. Thus it will be seen that their ideas of astronomy are definite, though necessarily limited. For the benefit of those who have not read my previous work, I shall retabulate what significance celestial bodies have to Eskimos. They recognise the Great Dipper as a herd of reindeer; the three triangular stars of Cassiopeia are the three stones supporting a celestial stone lamp; the Pleiades are a team of dogs in pursuit of a bear; the three glittering brilliants of the belt of Orion are the steps cut by some celestial Eskimo in a steep snow-bank to enable him to climb to the top; Gemini are the two door stones of an igloo; Arcturus and Aldebaran are personifications; and the moon and the sun are a maiden and her pursuing lover. Less observant than were the Arab shepherds, they have not noticed that one star is the centre about which all the others move, nor have they set apart the planets, which to them are simply large stars. Probably this is due to the fact that the movements of the stars can be observed during only three months of the year.
Amongst themselves, punctuality is a thing of small value. Yet, I have never known the time when I could not thoroughly trust my “old guard,” among these people, for carrying out my orders. When told to get ready for a certain time—say, daybreak, next morning—sledges would be found packed, and everything arranged with the utmost precision.
Their sense of humour is very pronounced. It is seen in their nicknames for each other, and particularly for the white men, and again in their drawings. These latter, crude as they are, leave no doubt as to the victim. Bow-legs, hooked nose, protuberant stomach, such deformities as these are gleefully pounced upon by the local artists, and emphasised in their portraiture.
Much skill is shown in their carvings. To look at the minute walrus teeth, one-half inch in length, which have been wrought upon, one is reminded over and over again of the dexterity of the Chinese and the Japanese. Notwithstanding all this ingenuity in ornamentation, Eskimos find little pleasure in trinkets or personal frills of any kind. Remembering the stories of Captain John Smith and the Indians, bracelets, beads and rings were taken North in our first trips, in the expectation of finding appreciation. At most, these were received with gratitude for the good will. None of the women wore them or seemed particularly to care for them. Occasionally they were brought forth from a peg in the wall where they had hung for some time, and examined with a certain air of curiosity. But as for adorning themselves—such vanities did not occur to them.
The tupiks (tents) and igloos (winter-houses) are all built after the same plans. There is only the superiority of workmanship to distinguish the abode of one man from another. We sometimes see an interesting form of competition when two huts commence building simultaneously: One man, Nupsah, has discovered a huge stone and succeeds in placing it in position. The neighbours, by their approving glances, proclaim him master builder. Presently, Pooadloonah finds a larger stone than any secured by his rival. This is placed in position, silently. Throughout the proceeding not a word has been spoken; yet within that conqueror’s breast there thrills an indisputable note of triumph and satisfaction. It is the peculiarity of this silent competition that, even when extended to greater deeds than the hauling of stones, the best of good nature is preserved on both sides.
Duels and battles never take place; and there is only one case of Eskimo murder which comes within my experience.
Kyo was an angakok (medicine man). He knew exactly how many sinnipahs (sleeps) would elapse before this or that man would die—almost as well as our weather bureau can prophesy the coming of a storm. Often he went into trances, for this is necessary when one is an angakok. But people do not like to be told that they are about to expire, particularly when time proves that the medicine man must have miscalculated. Such was the case with our Eskimos. Those of a more optimistic frame of mind took exception to a man who could inspire the sick with so much terror; accordingly, a plot was set for the riddance of his evil spirit.
Their “plot” was nothing more than a scurvy trick; they reasoned between them that it was justice. One day, Kyo was asked to accompany a hunting party, little suspecting that he was to be the object of the hunt. About five miles from camp he was struck from behind, and fell, hardly realising what had taken place. Then, lest his spirit should escape, he was buried and weighted with stones.
An Eskimo execution is always done after this manner. Lacking government and laws of any kind, even subsisting without a leader, the avenger is at liberty to decide the fate of the criminal. There is this peculiarity; the execution is never done in open fight; always by stealth. Yet Eskimos are far from cowardly—as proved when attacking the polar bear and musk-ox.