When the ice had consolidated and deep cracks were formed near the sh.o.r.e by the rise and fall of the tide, the boy used to rise and sit alongside the cracks, playing with a whip of seaweed. Kalopaling, however, was afraid that somebody might carry the boy away and had fastened him to a string of seaweed, which he held in his hands. The Inuit who had seen the boy went toward him, but as soon as he saw them coming he sang, "Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket" (Inung maqong tikitong, aipa mirqosailing, aipa kapiteling).

Then Kalopaling pulled on the rope and the boy disappeared. He did not want to return to his grandmother, who had abused him.

Some time afterward the Inuit saw him again sitting near a crack. They took the utmost caution that he should not hear them when approaching, tying pieces of deerskin under the soles of their boots. But when they could almost lay hold of the boy he sang, "Two men are coming, one with a double jacket, the other with a foxskin jacket." Again Kalopaling pulled on the seaweed rope and the boy disappeared.

The man and his wife, however, did not give up trying. They resolved to wait near the crack, and on one occasion when the boy had just come out of the water they jumped forward from a piece of ice behind which they had been hidden and before he could give the alarm they had cut the rope and away they went with him to their huts.

The boy lived with them and became a great hunter.

THE UISSUIT.

Besides the Kalopalit there are the Uissuit, a strange people that live in the sea. They are dwarfs and are frequently seen between Iglulik and Netchillik, where the Anganidjen live, an Inuit tribe whose women are in the habit of tattooing rings around their eyes. There are men and women among the Uissuit and they live in deep water, never coming up to the surface. When the Inuit wish to see them, they go in their boats to a place where they cannot see the bottom and try to catch them by hooks which they slowly move up and down. As soon as they get a bite they draw in the line. The Uissuit are thus drawn up; but no sooner do they approach the surface than they dive down headlong again, only their legs having emerged from the water. The Inuit have never succeeded in getting one out of the water.

KIVIUNG.

An old woman lived with her grandson in a small hut. As she had no husband and no son to take care of her and the boy, they were very poor, the boy's clothing being made of skins of birds which they caught in snares. When the boy would come out of the hut and join his playfellows, the men would laugh at him and tear his outer garment. Only one man, whose name was Kiviung, was kind to the young boy; but he could not protect him from the others. Often the lad came to his grandmother crying and weeping, and she always consoled him and each time made him a new garment. She entreated the men to stop teasing the boy and tearing his clothing, but they would not listen to her prayer. At last she got angry and swore she would take revenge upon his abusers, and she could easily do so, as she was a great angakoq.

She commanded her grandson to step into a puddle which was on the floor of the hut, telling him what would happen and how he should behave. As soon as he stood in the water the earth opened and he sank out of sight, but the next moment he rose near the beach as a yearling seal with a beautiful skin and swam about l.u.s.tily.

The men had barely seen the seal when they took to their kayaks, eager to secure the pretty animal. But the transformed boy quickly swam away, as his grandmother had told him, and the men continued in pursuit.

Whenever he rose to breathe he took care to come up behind the kayaks, where the men could not get at him with their harpoons; there, however, he splashed and dabbled in order to attract their attention and lure them on. But before any one could turn his kayak he had dived again and swam away. The men were so interested in the pursuit that they did not observe that they were being led far from the coast and that the land was now altogether invisible.

Suddenly a gale arose; the sea foamed and roared and the waves destroyed or upset their frail vessels. After all seemed to be drowned the seal was again transformed into the lad, who went home without wetting his feet. There was n.o.body now to tear his clothing, all his abusers being dead.

Only Kiviung, who was a great angakoq and had never abused the boy, had escaped the wind and waves. Bravely he strove against the wild sea, but the storm did not abate. After he had drifted for many days on the wide sea, a dark ma.s.s loomed up through the mist. His hope revived and he worked hard to reach the supposed land. The nearer he came, however, the more agitated did the sea become, and he saw that he had mistaken a wild, black sea, with raging whirlpools, for land. Barely escaping he drifted again for many days, but the storm did not abate and he did not see any land. Again he saw a dark ma.s.s looming up through the mist, but he was once more deceived, for it was another whirlpool which made the sea rise in gigantic waves.

At last the storm moderated, the sea subsided, and at a great distance he saw the land. Gradually he came nearer and following the coast he at length spied a stone house in which a light was burning. He landed and entered the house. n.o.body was inside but an old woman whose name was Arnaitiang. She received him kindly and at his request pulled off his boots, slippers, and stockings and dried them on the frame hanging over the lamp. Then she went out to light a fire and cook a good meal.

When the stockings were dry, Kiviung tried to take them from the frame in order to put them on, but as soon as he extended his hand to touch them the frame rose out of his reach. Having tried several times in vain, he called Arnaitiang and asked her to give him back the stockings.

She answered: "Take them yourself; there they are; there they are" and went out again. The fact is she was a very bad woman and wanted to eat Kiviung.

Then he tried once more to take hold of his stockings, but with no better result. He called again for Arnaitiang and asked her to give him the boots and stockings, whereupon she said: "Sit down where I sat when you entered my house; then you can get them." After that she left him again. Kiviung tried it once more, but the frame rose as before and he could not reach it.

Now he understood that Arnaitiang meditated mischief; so he summoned his tornaq, a huge white bear, who arose roaring from under the floor of the house. At first Arnaitiang did not hear him, but as Kiviung kept on conjuring the spirit came nearer and nearer to the surface, and when she heard his loud roar she rushed in trembling with fear and gave Kiviung what he had asked for. "Here are your boots," she cried; "here are your slippers; here are your stockings. I'll help you put them on." But Kiviung would not stay any longer with this horrid witch and did not even dare to put on his boots, but took them from Arnaitiang and rushed out of the door. He had barely escaped when it clapped violently together and just caught the tail of his jacket, which was torn off. He hastened to his kayak without once stopping to look behind and paddled away. He had only gone a short distance before Arnaitiang, who had recovered from her fear, came out swinging her glittering woman's knife and threatening to kill him. He was nearly frightened to death and almost upset his kayak. However, he managed to balance it again and cried in answer, lifting up his spear: "I shall kill you with my spear."

When Arnaitiang heard these words she fell down terror stricken and broke her knife. Kiviung then observed that it was made of a thin slab of fresh water ice.

He traveled on for many days and nights, following the sh.o.r.e. At last he came to a hut, and again a lamp was burning inside. As his clothing was wet and he was hungry, he landed and entered the house. There he found a woman who lived all alone with her daughter. Her son-in-law was a log of driftwood which had four boughs. Every day about the time of low water they carried it to the beach and when the tide came in it swam away.

When night came again it returned with eight large seals, two being fastened to every bough. Thus the timber provided its wife, her mother, and Kiviung with an abundance of food. One day, however, after they had launched it as they had always done, it left and never returned.

After a short interval Kiviung married the young widow. Now he went sealing every day himself and was very successful. As he thought of leaving some day, he was anxious to get a good stock of mittens (that his hands might keep dry during the long journey?). Every night after returning from hunting he pretended to have lost his mittens. In reality he had concealed them in the hood of his jacket.

After awhile the old woman became jealous of her daughter, for the new husband of the latter was a splendid hunter and she wished to marry him herself. One day when he was away hunting, she murdered her daughter, and in order to deceive him she removed her daughter's skin and crept into it, thus changing her shape into that of the young woman. When Kiviung returned, she went to meet him, as it had been her daughter's custom, and without exciting any suspicion. But when he entered the hut and saw the bones of his wife he at once became aware of the cruel deed and of the deception that had been practiced and fled away.

He traveled on for many days and nights, always following the sh.o.r.e. At last he again came to a hut where a lamp was burning. As his clothing was wet and he was hungry, he landed and went up to the house. Before entering it occurred to him that it would be best to find out first who was inside. He therefore climbed up to the window and looked through the peep hole. On the bed sat an old woman, whose name was Aissivang (spider). When she saw the dark figure before the window she believed it was a cloud pa.s.sing the sun, and as the light was insufficient to enable her to go on with her work she got angry. With her knife she cut away her eyebrows, ate them, and did not mind the dripping blood, but sewed on. When Kiviung saw this he thought that she must be a very bad woman and turned away.

Still he traveled on days and nights. At last he came to a land which seemed familiar to him and soon he recognized his own country. He was very glad when he saw some boats coming to meet him. They had been on a whaling excursion and were towing a great carca.s.s to the village. In the bow of one of them stood a stout young man who had killed the whale. He was Kiviung's son, whom he had left a small boy and who was now grown up and had become a great hunter. His wife had taken a new husband, but now she returned to Kiviung.

ORIGIN OF THE NARWHAL.

A long, long time ago a widow lived with her daughter and her son in a hut. When the boy was quite young he made a bow and arrows of walrus tusks and shot birds, which they ate. Before he was grown up he accidentally became blind. From that moment his mother maltreated him in every way. She never gave him enough to eat, though he had formerly added a great deal to their sustenance, and did not allow her daughter, who loved her brother tenderly, to give him anything. Thus they lived many years and the poor boy was very unhappy.

Once upon a time a polar bear came to the hut and thrust his head right through the window. They were all very much frightened and the mother gave the boy his bow and arrows that he might kill the animal. But he said, "I cannot see the window and I shall miss him." Then the sister leveled the bow and the boy shot and killed the bear. The mother and sister went out and took the carca.s.s down and skinned it.

After they had returned into the hut they told the boy that he had missed the bear, which had run away when it had seen him taking his bow and arrows. The bad mother had strictly ordered her daughter not to tell that the bear was dead, and she did not dare to disobey. The mother and the daughter ate the bear and had an ample supply of food, while the boy was almost starving. Sometimes, when the mother had gone away, the girl gave her brother something to eat, as she loved him dearly.

One day a loon flew over the hut and observing the poor blind boy it resolved to restore his eyesight. It sat down on the top of the roof and cried, "Come out, boy, and follow me." When he heard this he crept out and followed the bird, which flew along to a lake. There it took the boy and dived with him to the bottom. When they had risen again to the surface it asked, "Can you see anything?" The boy answered, "No, I cannot yet see." They dived again and staid a long time in the water.

When they emerged, the bird asked, "Can you see now?" The boy answered, "I see a dim shimmer." Then they dived the third time and staid very long under water. When they had risen to the surface the boy had recovered his eyesight altogether.

He was very glad and thankful to the bird, which told him to return to the hut. Then he found the skin of the bear he had killed drying in the warm rays of the sun. He got very angry and cut it into small pieces.

He entered the hut and asked his mother: "From whom did you get the bearskin I saw outside of the hut?" The mother was frightened when she found that her son had recovered his eyesight, and prevaricated. She said, "Come here, I will give you the best I have; but I am very poor; I have no supporter; come here, eat this, it is very good." The boy, however, did not comply and asked again, "From whom did you get yon bearskin I saw outside the hut?" Again she prevaricated; but when she could no longer evade the question she said, "A boat came here with many men in it, who left it for me."

The boy did not believe the story, but was sure that it was the skin of the bear he had killed during the winter. However, he did not say a word. His mother, who was anxious to conciliate him, tried to accommodate him with food and clothing, but he did not accept anything.

He went to the other Inuit who lived in the same village, made a spear and a harpoon of the same pattern he saw in use with them, and began to catch white whales. In a short time he had become an expert hunter.

By and by he thought of taking revenge on his mother. He said to his sister, "Mother abused me when I was blind and has maltreated you for pitying me; we will revenge ourselves on her." The sister agreed and he planned a scheme for killing the mother.

When he went to hunt white whales he used to wind the harpoon line round his body and, taking a firm footing, hold the animal until it was dead.

Sometimes his sister accompanied him and helped him to hold the line.

One day he told his mother to go with him and hold his line. When they came to the beach he tied the rope round her body and asked her to keep a firm footing. She was rather anxious, as she had never done this before, and told him to harpoon a small dolphin, else she might not be able to resist the strong pull. After a short time a young animal came up to breathe and the mother shouted, "Kill it, I can hold it;" but the boy answered, "No, it is too large." Again a small dolphin came near and the mother shouted to him to spear it; but he said, "No, it is too large." At last a huge animal rose quite near. Immediately he threw his harpoon, taking care not to kill it, and tossing his mother forward into the water cried out, "That is because you maltreated me; that is because you abused me."

The white whale dragged the mother into the sea, and whenever she rose to the surface she cried, "Louk! Louk!" and gradually she became transformed into a narwhal.

After the young man had taken revenge he began to realize that it was his mother whom he had murdered and he was haunted by remorse, and so was his sister, as she had agreed to the bad plans of her brother. They did not dare to stay any longer in their hut, but left the country and traveled many days and many nights overland. At last they came to a place where they saw a hut in which a man lived whose name was Qitua'jung. He was very bad and had horribly long nails on his fingers.

The young man, being very thirsty, sent his sister into the hut to ask for some water. She entered and said to Qitua'jung, who sat on the bed place, "My brother asks for some water;" to which Qitua'jung responded, "There it stands behind the lamp. Take as much as you like." She stooped to the bucket, when he jumped up and tore her back with his long nails.

Then she called to her brother for help, crying, "Brother, brother, that man is going to kill me." The young man ran to the hut immediately, broke down the roof, and killed the bad man with his spear.

Cautiously he wrapped up his sister in hares' skins, put her on his back, and traveled on. He wandered over the land for many days, until he came to a hut in which a man lived whose name was Iqignang. As the young man was very hungry, he asked him if he might eat a morsel from the stock of deer meat put up in the entrance of the hut. Iqignang answered, "Don't eat it, don't eat it." Though he had already taken a little bit, he immediately stopped. Iqignang was very kind to the brother and sister, however, and after a short time he married the girl, who had recovered from her wounds, and gave his former wife to the young man.[10]

[Footnote 10: See foot-note on p. 616.]

[[Footnote 9 (p. 616): ".... The full text will be found in the Verhandlungen der Berliner Gesellschaft fur Anthropologie, Ethnologie und Urgeschichte, Berlin, 1888."]]

THE VISITOR.

An old hag lived in a house with her grandson. She was a very bad woman who thought of nothing but playing mischief. She was a witch and tried to harm everybody by witchcraft. Once upon a time a stranger came to visit some friends who lived in a hut near that of the old woman. As the visitor was a good hunter and procured plenty of food for his hosts, she envied them and resolved to kill the new comer. She made a soup of wolf's and man's brains, which was the most poisonous meal she could prepare, and sent her grandson to invite the stranger. She cautioned him not to say what she had cooked, as she knew that the visitor was a great angakoq, who was by far her superior in wisdom.

The boy went to the neighboring hut and said: "Stranger, my grandmother invites you to come to her hut and to have there a good feast on a supper she has cooked. She told me not to say that it is a man's and a wolf's brains and I do not say it."

Though the angakoq understood the schemes of the old hag he followed the boy and sat down with her. She feigned to be very glad to see him and gave him a dish full of soup, which he began to eat. But by help of his tornaq the food fell right through him into a vessel which he had put between his feet on the floor of the hut. This he gave to the old witch and compelled her to eat it. She died as soon as she had brought the first spoonful to her mouth.

THE FUGITIVE WOMEN.