Winter dances in honour of animals are very common, and at these festivities, masks in the form of animals are worn, while people caper round in imitation of the movements of their own particular totem. A very important social gathering among Salish tribes is named “potlatch,” at which presents of great value are given away by a chief who wishes to become very famous. People crowd to the top of the long cedar-wood huts, and for days there is a distribution of skins, horses, clothing, blankets, canoes, and every other form of wealth. About twenty-five years ago a great chief of Vancouver Island gave a “potlatch” to 2500 persons from different tribes. The guests were feasted for over a month, and the savings of five years were distributed; so no wonder the chief who is wealthy and a great warrior readily becomes the judge and lawgiver in Indian society.
Slaves, usually people taken in war, were at one time common, and very miserable was their lot, for they were regarded as being no better than dogs, and any man might put his slaves to death for a trifling offence. Mr. Hill-Tout, who knows the Indians well, says: “Slavery has, of course, been abolished since they came under our rule, but the descendants of those formerly slaves are still looked down upon and despised by the other Indians.”
The North-Western tribes had no belief in a Supreme Being, or in God Who made the universe, though they did think of a soul, spirit, or ghost which could survive after the body was killed. Not only people, but animals, and even weapons and articles of clothing, were thought to have a ghost which went to some other world when the creature was killed or the article broken. The Thompson Indians were very much afraid of the spirits of deer, and they always took care to bury with respect all such parts of the carcase as were not required. One way of keeping friendly with the bear spirits was to hang the skull of the animal on a tree, and all who took part in the ceremony were expected to join in a chorus praising bears, while each performer was expected to paint his face. The “medicine man,” “shaman,” or shall we say priest, is most important among Déné tribes, for this peculiar person goes into a deep sleep or trance in which he is supposed to visit the world of spirits, who tell him how to cure sick people. So clever is the “shaman” thought to be, that he is held quite capable of chasing a soul which has left the body, and when the truant soul is caught, he goes through a performance of returning it to the dying person. A man who is very ill indeed will sometimes recover just because he has such great faith in the medicine man, whose power he trusts absolutely.
Burial is performed in various ways: the body may be left on a staging concealed in the boughs of a tree, or the tomb may be a hut which was specially constructed for the dying person, or perhaps his remains are cremated. Whatever method is adopted, there is always the greatest fear of death and a return of haunting spirits, which can be kept away only by the observance of certain superstitious practices. The mourners must not eat meat for several days, then they are not to cut it with a knife. The encampment where death takes place is sometimes deserted, and what is most important, the name of the dead must not be mentioned, for the ghost may think he is called if he hears his name.
Social gatherings are made happy by the narration of stories which refer to the lives and adventures of animals. Here is one concerning a sea-gull and a raven: the former bird is credited with having kept daylight in a large box until a raven induced him to open the lid. After lighting torches and searching the seashore, the raven returned carrying prickly eggs of the sea urchin, which he strewed before the house of the sea-gull. Next day he made a call on the sea-gull, and found him in bed with his feet full of prickles, which the raven volunteered to take out with a knife. When the operation was in progress, Master Raven said: “You must open the lid of your box and let out some daylight, for I cannot see what I am doing.” So the gull opened the lid a little way, and the visitor continued taking out prickles from the sea-gull’s feet. At last the little bit of daylight was exhausted, and once more the raven asked for more light in order to continue his work. Very reluctantly the sea-gull opened the lid of his “daylight” box, but on this occasion the raven was too quick for him, and forced the lid right open, with the result that daylight rushed out, spread all over the world, and could not be gathered in again.
Sea-gull was very much distressed, bitterly he cried, and to-day the Indians say that sea birds flit along the shore, uttering their plaintive cries because of the trick played by the raven so many years ago.
CHAPTER IV
The Social Life of the Eskimo
Long before daybreak the Eskimo housewife rises, and at once supplies the lamp with a new wick and more blubber; and while the breakfast of seal’s flesh is being prepared, the hunter removes the block of snow constituting a door; then, making his way along the under-snow passage where the sleeping dogs lie, he emerges into the open, at which point a piercing Arctic wind greets him. The sledge is cut loose from its ice fetters, and the dogs are harnessed ready for an immediate start.
The women who stay at home are occupied in making boots and clothing by sewing skins of the seal, reindeer, or walrus; children and puppies have to be fed and played with; then, of course, there is the hunter’s evening meal to prepare: the raw liver of a seal caught during the day is regarded as a great delicacy. A strange superstition demands that women shall do no work while the spoils are being unloaded from the sledge, for it is thought that the supreme goddess Sedna, who created all sea animals, will be extremely angry if some mark of respect is not shown to her dead creatures. Seal and walrus soups constitute the first part of the evening meal, but of these the women do not partake, and as a rule they share only in the last course, consisting of large quantities of frozen meat. The soup is generally passed round in a large horn cup, from which each takes a drink, a proceeding which is followed by the introduction of a large mass of meat that is passed round and bitten by each in turn. A person retiring to rest always takes the precaution of leaving meat near the snow couch, so that he may refresh himself if awake during the night. The Eskimo are, of course, hunters and nothing more; upon animal life they depend entirely for food, clothing, weapons, and locomotion; the cold is intense, the hours of work long and laborious, so it comes to pass that enormous quantities of animal food are essential.