Part 6

"Now I will go with you," said the mother. "But you must not go into the houses nearest the shore, for there I often fled in when your father would have beaten me; I have suffered much evil up there. And when you thrust in your head, be sure to look as angry as you can."

There were two houses on the shore, one a little way above the other. As they went up, the mother suddenly saw that her son was going into the one nearest the shore. And she cried:

"Ha-a; Ha-a! When your father beat me, I always ran in there. Go to the one up above."

And now the boy made his face fierce, and thrust in his head at the doorway, and all those inside fell down dead with fright. He would have beaten his father, but his father had died long since. Then he went down again to the bottom of the sea.

When the day dawned, the people from the house nearest the shore came out and said:

"Ai! What footsteps are these, all full of seaweed?"

And seeing that the tracks led up to the house a little way above, they followed there, and found that all inside had died of fright.

THE RAVEN AND THE GOOSE

Do you know why the raven is so black, so dull and black in colour? It is all because of its own obstinacy. Now listen.

It happened in the days when all the birds were getting their colours and the pattern in their coats. And the raven and the goose happened to meet, and they agreed to paint each other.

The raven began, and painted the other black, with a nice white pattern showing between.

The goose thought that very fine indeed, and began to do the same by the raven, painting it a coat exactly like its own.

But then the raven fell into a rage, and declared the pattern was frightfully ugly, and the goose, offended at all the fuss, simply splashed it black all over.

And now you know why the raven is black.

WHEN THE RAVENS COULD SPEAK

Once, long ago, there was a time when the ravens could talk.

But the strange thing about the ravens' speech was that their words had the opposite meaning. When they wanted to thank any one, they used words of abuse, and thus always said the reverse of what they meant.

But as they were thus so full of lies, there came one day an old man, and by magic means took away their power of speech. And since that time the ravens can do no more than shriek.

But the ravens' nature has not changed, and to this day they are an ill-tempered, lying, thieving lot.

MAKÍTE

Makíte, men say, took to wife the sister of many brothers, but he himself could never manage to catch a seal when he was out in his kayak. But his wife's brothers caught seal in great numbers. And so it was that one day he heard his wife say she would leave him, because he never caught anything. And in his grief at hearing this, he said to himself:

"This evening, when they are all asleep, I will go up into the hills and live there all alone."

When darkness had fallen, he set off up into the hills, but as he went, his wife's father, who was standing outside, saw him going, and cried in to the others in the house:

"Makíte has gone up into the hills to live there all alone. Go after him."

The many brothers went out after him, but when they had nearly come up with him, he made his steps longer, and thus got farther and farther away from them, and at last they ceased to pursue him any more.

On his way he came to a house, and this was just as it was beginning to get light. He looked in, and saw that the hangings on the walls were of nothing but reindeer and foxes' skins. And now he said to himself:

"Hum--I may as well go in."

But as he went in, the hinge of the door creaked, and then a strange, deep sound was heard inside the house, and it began to shake.

At the same moment, the master of the house came in and said:

"Have you had nothing to eat yet?"

Makíte said: "I will eat nothing until I know what are those things which look like candles, there in front of the window."

Then the lone-dweller said:

"That is no concern of one who is not himself a lone-dweller. Therefore he cannot tell you."

But then Makíte said: "If you do not tell me, I will kill you."

And then at last he told.

"It may be you have seen to-day the great hills away in the blue to the south; if you go up to the top of the nearer hill, you will find nothing there, but he who climbs that one which lies farther away, and reaches the top, he will find such things there. But this cannot be done by one who is not a lone-dweller."

And not until he had said all this did Makíte eat.

Then they both went to rest. And just as he was near falling asleep, the lone-dweller began to quiver slightly, but he pretended to sleep. And before Makíte could see what he was about, the lone-dweller had strung his bow, and Makíte, therefore, seeing he was preparing to kill him, pretended to wake up, and then the other laid aside his bow so quickly that it seemed as if he had not held anything at all. At last, when it was nearly dawn, the lone-dweller fell asleep, and then Makíte tried very cautiously to get out, but as he was about to pass through the doorway, he again happened to draw the door to after him, and again it creaked as before with a strange sound. When he looked in through the window, the lone-dweller was about to get up.

Now Makíte had laid his great spear a little way above the house, and he ran to the place. When he looked round, he saw that the man from the house was already in chase. Then he came to a big rock, and as there was no help for it, he commenced to run round. When he had run round it for the third time, he grasped his harpoon firmly, and without turning round, thrust it out behind him, and struck something soft. He had struck the other in the side.

Having now killed this one, and as there was no help for it, he wandered on at hazard, and came to a great plain. And in the middle of the plain was something which looked like a house. And he went up to it and found it was the house of a dwarf, and no end of people coming out of it. One went in and another came out, and so they kept on. He tried to get into the passage, but could not even get his foot in.

Then he heard someone inside saying:

"Heave up the passage way a little with your back, and then come in."

When he came in, it was a big place, and the old creature spoke to him, and said:

"When you go out, look towards the west; the inland-dwellers are coming."

And when Makíte went out, he looked towards the west, and there he saw a great black thing approaching, and when he then came in again, the old man went to the window and called out:

"Here they are; they are close up now."

And then the dwarfs went out to fight, and took up their posts on the plain, one party opposite the other, and none said a word.

But suddenly the dog that was with the inland folk gave a great bark, and there came a mighty wave of water, rolling right up to the dwarfs.

But when it had come quite close to them, it suddenly grew quite small. And then the dwarfs' dog gave a bark. And at the same time the dwarfs' wave arose, and washed right up over the inland folk, and drowned them, and only few of them escaped alive.

When they came home again, Makíte built himself a house, and from the high hill fetched some of those things which looked like candles, and hung them up in his house. And he lived there in his house until he died.

And here ends this story.

ASALÔQ

Asalôq, men say, had a foster-brother. Once when he had come home after having been out in his kayak, his foster-brother had disappeared. He sought for him everywhere, but being unable to find him, he built a big umiak, and when it was built, he covered it with three layers of skins.

Then he rowed off southwards with his wife. And while they were rowing, they saw a black ripple on the sea ahead. When they came to the place, they saw that it was the sea-lice. And the outermost layer of skins on the boat was eaten away before they got through them.

Now they rowed onwards again, and saw once more a black ripple ahead. When they came to the place, they saw that it was the sea-serpents. And once again they slipped through with the loss of one layer of skins.

Having now but one layer of skins left, they went in great fear of what they might chance to meet next. But without seeing anything strange, they rounded a point, and came in sight of a place with many houses. Hardly had they come into land when the strangers caught hold of their boat, and hauled it up, so that Asalôq had no need to help.

And now it was learned that these were folk who had a strong man in their midst. Asalôq had been but a short time in one of the houses, when they heard the sound of one coming from outside and in through the passage way; it was the strong man's talebearer boy, and to make matters worse, a boy with a squint.

And now the people of the house said:

"Now that wretched boy will most certainly tell him you are here." And indeed, the boy was just about to run out again, when they caught hold of him and set him up behind the lamp. But hardly had they turned their backs on him for a moment, when he slipped out before any could move, and they heard the sound of his running footsteps in the snow without. And after a while, the window grew red with a constant filling of faces looking in to say:

"We are sent to bid the stranger come."

And since there was no help for it, Asalôq went up there with them. When he came into the house, it was full of people, and he looked round and saw the strong man far in on the big bench. And at the moment Asalôq caught sight of him, the strong man said in a deep voice:

"Let us have a wrestling match."

And as he spoke, the others drew out a skin from under the bench, and spread it on the floor. And after the skin had been spread out, food was brought in. And Asalôq ate till there was no more left. But as he rose, all that he had eaten fell out of his stomach. And then they began pulling arms.

And now Asalôq began mightily pulling the arms of all the men there, until the skin was worn from his arm, leaving the flesh almost bare.

And when he had straightened out all their arms, he went out of that house the strongest of all, and went out to his umiak and rowed away southwards with his wife. And when they had rowed a little way, they came to a little island, and pitched their tent on the sunny side. And when Asalôq then went up on the hillside to look out, he saw many umiaks coming from the northward, and they camped on the shady side. Then he heard them say:

"Now search carefully about." And others said:

"He can hardly be on such a little island."

And now Asalôq sang magic songs over them from the top of the hill, and at last he heard them say:

"We may as well go home again."

Now Asalôq stood and watched them row away, and not until they were out of sight did he set off again to the southward. At last they reached Aluk, and there their bones still rest.

Here ends this story.

UKALEQ

Ukaleq, men say, was a strong man. Whenever he heard news of game, even if it were a great bear, he had only to go out after it, and he never failed to kill it.

Once the winter came, and the ice grew firm, and then men began to go out hunting bears on the ice. One day there was a big bear. Ukaleq set off in chase, but he soon found that it was not to be easily brought down.

The bear sighted Ukaleq, and turned to pursue him. Ukaleq fled, but grew tired at length. Now and again he managed to wound the beast, but was killed himself at last, and at the same time the bear fell down dead.

Now when his comrades came to look at the bear, its teeth began to whisper, and then they knew that Ukaleq had been killed by a Magic Bear. [7] And as there was no help for it, they took the dead man home with them. And then his mother said:

"Lay him in the middle of the floor with a skin beneath him." She had kept the dress he had worn as a little child, and now that he was dead, she put it in her carrying bag, and went out with it to the cooking place in the passage. And when she got there, she said:

"For five days I will neither eat nor drink."

Then she began hushing the dress in the bag as if it were a child, and kept on hushing it until at last it began to move in the bag, and just as it had commenced to move, there came some out from the house and said:

"Ukaleq is beginning to quiver."

But she kept on hushing and hushing, and at last that which she had in the bag began trying to crawl out. But then there came one from the house and said:

"Ukaleq has begun to breathe; he is sitting up."

Hardly was this said when that which was in the bag sprang out, making the whole house shake. Then they made up a bed for Ukaleq on the side bench, and placed skins under him and made him sit up. And after five days had passed, and that without eating or drinking, he came to himself again, and commenced to go out hunting once more.

Then the winter came, and the winter was there, and the ice was over the sea, and when the ice had formed, they began to make spirit callings. The villages were close together, and all went visiting in other villages.

And at last Ukaleq set out with his family to a village near by, where there was to be a big spirit calling. The house where it was to be held was so big that there were three windows in it, and yet it was crowded with folk.

In the middle of the spirit calling, there was an old woman who was sitting cross-legged up on the bench, and she turned round towards the others and said:

"We heard last autumn that Ukaleq had been killed by a Magic Bear." Hardly had she said those words when an old wifeless man turned towards her and said:

"Was it by any chance your Magic Bear that killed him?"

Then the old woman turned towards the others and said:

"Mine? Now where could I have kept such a thing?"

But after saying that she did not move. She even forgot to breathe, for shame at having been discovered by the wifeless man, and so she died on the spot.

After that Ukaleq went home, and never went out hunting bears again.

Here ends this story.

ÍKARDLÍTUARSSUK

Íkardlítuarssuk, men say, had a little brother; they lived at a place where there were many other houses. One autumn the sea was frozen right out from the coast, without a speck of open water for a long way out. After this, there was great dearth and famine; at last their fellow-villagers began to offer a new kayak paddle as a reward for the one who should magic it away, but there was no wizard among the people of that village.

Then it came about that Íkardlítuarssuk's little brother began to speak to him thus:

"Íkardlítuarssuk, how very nice it would be to win that new paddle!"

And then it was revealed that Íkardlítuarssuk had formerly sat on the knee of one of those present when the wizards called up their helping spirits.

Then it came about that Íkardlítuarssuk one evening began to call upon his helping spirits. He called them up, and having called them up, went out, and having gone out, went down to the water's edge, crept in through a crack between the land and the ice, and started off, walking along the bottom of the sea.

He walked along, and when he came to seaweed, it seemed as if there lay dogs in among the weed. But these were sharks. Then on his way he saw a little house, and went towards it. When he came up to the entrance, it was narrow as the edge of a woman's knife. But he got in all the same, following that way which was narrow as the edge of a woman's knife. And when he came in, there sat the mother of Tôrnârssuk, the spirit who lived down there; she was sitting by her lamp and weeping. And picking behind her ears, she threw down many strange things. Inside her lamp were many birds that dived down, and inside the house were many seals that bobbed up.

And now he began tickling the weeping woman as hard as he could, to encourage her; and at last she was encouraged, and after this, she freed a number of the birds, and then made a sign to many of the seals to swim out of the house. And when they swam out, there was one of the fjord seals which she liked so much that she plucked a few of the hairs from its back, that she might have it to make breeches of when it was caught.

And when all this had been done, she went home, and went to rest without saying a word.

When they awoke next morning, the sea was quite dark ahead, and all the ice had gone. But when the villagers came out, she said to them:

"Do not kill more than one; if any of you should kill two, he will never kill again."

And furthermore she said:

"If any of you should catch a young fjord seal with a bare patch on its back, you must give it to me to make breeches."

When they came back, each of the hunters had made a catch; only one of them had caught two. And the man who had caught two seals that day never after caught any seal at all when he rowed out, but all the others always made a catch when they rowed out, and some of them even caught several at a time.

Thus it came about that Íkardlítuarssuk with the little brother won the new paddle as a reward.

THE RAVEN WHO WANTED A WIFE

A little sparrow was mourning for her husband who was lost. She was very fond of him, for he caught worms for her.

As she sat there weeping, a raven came up to her and asked:

"Why are you weeping?"

"I am weeping for my husband, who is lost; I was fond of him, because he caught worms for me," said the sparrow.

"It is not fitting for one to weep who can hop over high blades of grass," said the raven. "Take me for a husband; I have a fine high forehead, broad temples, a long beard and a big beak; you shall sleep under my wings, and I will give you lovely offal to eat."

"I will not take you for a husband, for you have a high forehead, broad temples, a long beard and a big beak, and will give me offal to eat."

So the raven flew away--flew off to seek a wife among the wild geese. And he was so lovesick that he could not sleep.

When he came to the wild geese, they were about to fly away to other lands.

Said the raven to two of the geese:

"Seeing that a miserable sparrow has refused me, I will have you."

"We are just getting ready to fly away," said the geese.

"I will go too," said the raven.

"But consider this: that none can go with us who cannot swim or rest upon the surface of the water. For there are no icebergs along the way we go."

"It is nothing; I will sail through the air," said the raven.

And the wild geese flew away, and the raven with them. But very soon he felt himself sinking from weariness and lack of sleep.

"Something to rest on!" cried the raven, gasping. "Sit you down side by side." And his two wives sat down together on the water, while their comrades flew on.

The raven sat down on them and fell asleep. But when his wives saw the other geese flying farther and farther away, they dropped that raven into the sea and flew off after them.

"Something to rest on!" gasped the raven, as it fell into the water. And at last it went to the bottom and was drowned.

And after a while, it broke up into little pieces, and its soul was turned into little "sea ravens." [8]

THE MAN WHO TOOK A VIXEN TO WIFE

There was once a man who wished to have a wife unlike all other wives, and so he caught a little fox, a vixen, and took it home to his tent.

One day when he had been out hunting, he was surprised to find on his return that his little fox-wife had become a real woman. She had a lovely top-knot, made of that which had been her tail. And she had taken off the furry skin. And when he saw her thus, he thought her very beautiful indeed.

Now she began to talk about journeyings, and how greatly she desired to see other people. And so they went off, and came to a place and settled down there.

One of the men there had taken a little hare to wife. And now these two men thought it would be a pleasant thing to change wives. And so they did.

But the man who had borrowed the little vixen wife began to feel scorn of her after he had lived with her a little while. She had a foxy smell, and did not taste nice.

But when the little vixen noticed this she was very angry, for it was her great desire to be well thought of by the men. So she knocked out the lamp with her tail, dashed out of the house, and fled away far up into the hills.

Up in the hills she met a worm, and stayed with him.