_THE ESKIMOS._
The Eskimos, the most northerly inhabitants of the globe, are in many
respects a strange and interesting people. In appearance they are short
and well-built, with fat, round faces, usually almost entirely devoid
of hair; the eyebrows and eyelashes are so scanty as to be scarcely
discernible, giving to their brown, oily faces a singularly bare and
homely appearance. Their hair, like that of the Indians, is black and
straight. By the women it is worn plaited, and twisted up into three
knots, one at either side of the head and one at the back. The men wear
theirs short, and well down over their forehead, for protection from the
cold in winter and from the sun in summer.
While the Eskimos as a rule are short and homely in appearance, still I
have met with some very handsome, stalwart men, quite up to the standard
height of Canadians, and a few pretty, charming women. Most of them have
bright soft brown eyes, which of themselves are features of beauty; but
they serve these savages a better and more useful purpose, furnishing
marvellous powers of vision and enabling their owners to see objects
clearly at great distances. The eyes of the Anglo-Saxon, even when aided
by the telescope, are not a match for the bright brown orbs of these
“children of the cold.”
The clothing of the Eskimo is made entirely of the skins of animals,
chiefly of the seal and reindeer, the former being used for summer and
the latter for the winter. They are nicely softened and dressed, and are
neatly made up by the women, whose chief duty it is to provide clothing
for their husbands and children.
The cut of the native garb, both for the men and the women, is somewhat
peculiar. A man’s suit may briefly be described as follows: Commencing
at the foundation, it consists of a pair of fur stockings or duffles,
covered by long waterproof moccasins which reach to the knees and are
just met by short seal or deer-skin trousers. The suit is completed by
a jacket or jumper, made of the same material as the trousers, which is
pulled on over the head, there being no opening in front to admit of its
being put on like a coat. This jacket is provided with a hood, which
takes the place of a cap, and may either be worn over the head or pushed
back when not required.
In the summer season, a single suit of seal-skin, made as above,
constitutes a man’s entire clothing, but in the winter time he wears two
such suits, the inner one having the hair on the inside, and the outer
one reversed.
The female costume is rather more complex in make-up than the above.
The foot-wear is the same with both sexes, but in place of the trousers
worn by the men, the women wear leggings and trunks, and in place of the
jacket a peculiarly constructed over-skirt, having a short flap in front,
and a long train, in shape something like a beaver’s tail, just reaching
to the ground behind. The back of the over-skirt is made very full, so as
to form a sort of bag, in which the mothers carry their children. Like
a man’s jacket, it is provided with a hood, but of much larger size, so
as to afford shelter for both mother and child. The women are very fond
of decorating their dresses with beads or other ornaments, and all their
garments are made with great neatness.
Like many other savage people, the Eskimos, and especially the women,
tattoo extensively. They do not all thus adorn themselves, but many of
them have their faces, necks, arms or hands all figured over in such a
way as to give them a wild and savage appearance.
Many of the ladies, when in full dress, wear head-bands, usually made of
polished brass or iron, over their foreheads. These are held in position
by being tied with a cord behind the head.
A stranger custom still is that of wearing stones in the cheeks, upon
each side of the mouth. This practice is not universal with the Eskimos,
but, as far as my knowledge extends, it is limited to those inhabiting
the Mackenzie River district. The natives of this region have the
reputation of being a bad lot, and it is said that when they are heard
to rattle their cheek-stones against their teeth it is time to be on the
look-out. The stones are cut in the shape of large shirt-studs, and are
let through the cheeks by cutting holes for them.
As to the origin of the Eskimo people, very little is known, but the most
probable theory accounting for their existence on this continent is that
they were originally Mongolians, and at some very early date crossed
over the Behring Straits and landed in Alaska. This theory is based
upon the fact that a similarity is traced between the Eskimo language
and the dialects of some of the Mongolian tribes of northern Asia. A
certain Eskimo tradition would rather tend to bear out this theory. It is
something like this: A very long time ago there were two brothers made by
the beaver and placed on an island in the Western Sea. There they lived
and fed upon birds which they caught with their hands, but at length food
grew scarce, and the brothers, being hungry, fought for the birds they
had taken. This quarrel led to a separation, and one brother went to live
in the western portion of our “Great North Land,” and became the father
of the Eskimos in that region; while the other went still farther east,
and became the father of the natives of Hudson Bay and Straits.
The range of the Eskimos is very large, extending completely across the
northern part of North America—toward the south, to about the sixtieth
parallel of latitude, west of Hudson Bay, but east of the bay, to about
the fifty-fifth parallel; while toward the north their range is almost
unlimited. They are a very thinly scattered race, roving in small bands
over great treeless wildernesses.
My first meeting with the Eskimos led me to think them a wild people.
There were thirty-six of them, all women and children, piled into one of
their “oomiacks,” or skin boats, and all were whooping and yelling at the
top of their voices, while those not paddling were swinging their arms
(and legs, too) in the wildest manner. They were natives of Prince of
Wales Sound, Hudson Straits, coming out from shore to meet the steamship
_Alert_, which to them was a fiery monster of mystery.
Accompanying them was a party of men in kyacks, and all were preparing to
board the ship without invitation; but the first officer, by brandishing
a cordwood stick, and threatening to hurl it at them if they came too
near—backing up the menace with the liberal use of some strong English
which they did not understand—induced them to await his convenience to
receive them.
When the ship was past the shoals near which she was steaming, and safely
into harbor, the natives were allowed to come on board. They were an
odd-looking crowd, some of them curiously dressed. One old grey-haired
chief had apparently reached a stage of civilization in his attire not
common among the Eskimos, for outside of his seal-skin clothing he wore a
long white cotton nightshirt, of which he was evidently very proud. The
Eskimos are always pleased with the acquisition of white men’s garments,
but their ideas as to how and when they should be worn do not always
agree with ours.
Early navigators have described the Eskimos as being savage tribes,
greatly to be feared, and it is true that unfortunate crews have fallen
into their hands and been murdered by them; but often in such cases the
fault has been as much with the whites as with the poor savages. They
really possess very simple, childish natures, but at the same time are
characterized by a quiet determination and deep jealousy, which, when
aroused, is likely to lead to acts of violence. From my own observation,
I do not think that the Eskimos would, without considerable provocation
or great temptation, harm any one falling into their hands.
Though not usually quarrelsome or vicious, they do fight with each other,
but only at appointed times, when all old grudges and differences of
opinion are cleared up at once. On the appointed day, all the disagreeing
parties of the camp pair off, and standing at arm’s length from each
other, strike turn about, and in this deliberate, systematic way take
satisfaction out of each other, until one of the combatants cries,
“Ta-bah” (enough).
The food of the Eskimo, as his name implies, is chiefly raw flesh; so the
preparation of his meals is an extremely simple operation. The culinary
department of civilization has no place in his life. Reindeer, seals,
white whales and walruses are to the Eskimo the staple articles of food;
but polar bears, Arctic hares and other animals, besides most of the
Arctic birds, are considered equally good.
It is rather a novel, if not a repulsive sight, to witness an Eskimo
feast. The occasion of the feast is the capture of a seal, or perhaps a
reindeer, which, according to custom during the winter season, becomes
common property, so that all are invited to the lodge of the fortunate
hunter to share in the festivities.
The animal’s carcase is trailed into the middle of the lodge, and when
all the guests are assembled, they seat themselves on the floor about it.
The carcase is then skinned by the host, and the pelt laid down to form a
dish or receptacle for the blood.
All things being ready, the party, armed with knives, are invited to help
themselves, and this they do with great dexterity, and continue to do—not
until they have had sufficient, but until the supply is exhausted and
absolutely nothing remains but the skin and skeleton. The blood, being
considered very fine, is dipped up with skin cups or horn spoons, and
consumed with the flesh.
The blubber, or outer layer of fat, which is found on most Arctic
animals, is separated from the skin and cut into long strips about an
inch square. Thus prepared it is swallowed, though not eaten. It is
simply lowered down the throat as one might lower a rope into a well.
During the summer season the blubber is not used as food, but is saved
for oil, to be used for lighting purposes during the long dark nights of
the succeeding winter.
An Eskimo appears to have no idea of a limited capacity for food, but
usually eats until the supply fails. I knew of one exception, however,
where an old woman, after doing heroically, was forced to yield.
A party of Eskimos were having a big feast on the carcase of a whale,
which they consider very good food, when this woman, in her ambition,
overestimated her capabilities and ate until she became quite torpid. Her
friends, supposing her to be dead, trailed her out and buried her in the
snow, but a day or two afterwards she kicked off the snow that covered
her and rejoined her astonished companions.
Next to stowing capacity, an Eskimo’s stomach is noted for its powers
of digestion. For instance, both the flesh and hide of the walrus are
common articles of food with them, and yet these are so hard and gritty
that when skinning or cutting up the animal one has to be continually
sharpening his knife.
The skin of a walrus is a good deal like that of an elephant, and is from
half an inch to an inch and a half in thickness; but, notwithstanding
this, and the hardness of its structure, the little Eskimo children may
often be seen running about gnawing pieces of walrus hide as if they were
apples. Sometimes, however, they have no walrus hide or meat of any kind
to gnaw, for occasionally in the spring season the condition of the snow
and ice is such as to render hunting impossible, and though they store up
meat in the fall for winter use, it is often exhausted before spring.
When this state of things occurs the condition of the Eskimos is
deplorable in the extreme. They are forced to kill and eat their wretched
dogs, which are even more nearly starved than themselves, and next they
resort to their skin clothing and moccasins, which they soak in water
until they become soft, though perhaps not altogether palatable.
[Illustration: HALF-BREED HUNTER WITH WOODEN SNOW-GOGGLES.]
Next to starvation, perhaps the most severe affliction the Eskimo has to
endure is that of snow blindness. This trouble is very prevalent in the
spring season, and is caused by the exposure to the strong glare of the
sun upon the glistening fields of snow and ice. Snow blindness is thus
in reality acute inflammation of the eyes, and the pain caused by it is
excruciating, being like what one would expect to suffer if his eyes
were filled with hot salt. I speak from experience.
In order to guard against the occurrence of snow-blindness, the Eskimos
wear a very ingenious contrivance, in the form of wooden goggles. These
are neatly carved so as to fit over the nose, and close in to the sockets
of the eyes. Instead of colored glasses, which the Eskimos have no means
of getting, these goggles are made with narrow horizontal slits, just
wide enough to allow the wearer to see through. Thus the excess of light
is excluded, while the sight is not entirely obstructed.
Like many people in southern Canada, the native of the frozen zone
possesses a summer and winter residence, and occupies each in turn as
regularly as the seasons change. His winter dwelling is built of snow;
his summer lodge is made of oil-tanned seal or deer-skins, neatly sewn
together, and supported by poles, if such can be procured, or pieces of
drift-wood spliced together. A flap is left for the door, but there is
no opening at the top, as in the Indian wigwam or tepee, for, having no
fire, they have no need of a chimney.
The atmosphere of these tents or “topicks,” as they are called, is
usually very sickening to one not accustomed to them, for the skins of
which they are made are dressed in their natural oil in order to make
them waterproof, which has the effect of making them rank and odorous to
a degree.
Topicks vary in size, according to the wealth or requirements of the
occupants. Sometimes they are scarcely large enough to allow two or three
little people to huddle into them, while others are quite commodious,
capable of seating twenty persons. The commonest form of topick is
that of a cone, very similar to an Indian tepee, but it is sometimes
rectangular and built with vertical walls about four feet high.
The furniture of these summer dwellings is simple, consisting usually of
a few skins lying about the rocky floor, to serve as seats in the daytime
and bedding at night; two or three seal-skin sacks of oil, two shallow
stone vessels used as lamps, a few hunting implements, some little
deer-skin bags, used as ladies’ work-baskets; several coils of seal-skin
line, a few pairs of moccasins scattered about, and at one side of the
door the somewhat repulsive remains of a carcass consumed at the last
meal. Such is the Eskimo summer house.
His winter dwelling in the snow is more interesting and curious. It is
called an “igloe,” and is built in the form of a dome with large blocks
of snow. The common size of the dwelling apartment of an igloe is twelve
feet in diameter, and eight feet in height. This is approached by a
succession of three or four smaller domes, connected by low archways,
through which one has to crouch in order to pass.
[Illustration: SECTION THROUGH IGLOE.]
The innermost archway opening into the dwelling apartment is about three
feet high, and as one enters he steps down a foot or more to the level
of the floor of the front portion of the dwelling. The back part, about
two-thirds of the apartment, is three feet higher than the entrance.
The front or lower section of the igloe corresponds to a front hall, and
it is in it that the occupants, as they enter, beat the snow off their
clothing, or remove their outer garments, when they wish to step up into
the higher living apartment.
The floor of the entire igloe consists simply of snow, but in this upper
apartment it is well covered with deer-skin robes, so that it is not
melted by the warmth of those who sit or lie upon it.
Above the doorway of the igloe is placed a window to admit light into the
dwelling. This is formed of a large square slab of ice, neatly inserted
into the wall of the dome, and it serves well the purpose for which it is
intended, admitting a pleasant soft light. Above the window a much-needed
ventilating hole is usually made. This, because of the passing current
of warm air, becomes rapidly enlarged, and requires to be frequently
plastered up with snow.
Sometimes one of the long approaches or corridors is made to serve for
two or three dwellings, each of which is connected by low archways with
the innermost of the smaller domes. Usually, opening out of the inner
dome, each family has one or two small pantries, where they keep a supply
of meat sufficient for a week or two.
The furniture of the snow-house is much the same as that of the skin
topick already described, but the stone lamps come more into prominence,
contributing light to the dwelling during the long dark winter nights.
These lamps are simply stone vessels, usually half moon shaped, and
formed neatly of some description of soft rock. The rounding side of the
vessel is made much deeper than the other, which shoals up gradually to
the edge. The wick of the lamp consists of dried decomposed moss, pressed
and formed by the fingers into a narrow ridge across the shallow or
straight edge of the dish. In this position it absorbs the seal oil which
is placed in the vessel, and when lit, burns with a clear bright flame,
free from smoke. The lamp is then made self-feeding by suspending a lump
of seal blubber above it, at a height varying according to the amount of
light and consequent supply of oil required. This melts with the heat
of the flame and drips into the vessel of the lamp. One lump keeps up
the supply for a considerable length of time, the intensity of light
being increased or diminished at will by lowering or raising the lump of
blubber suspended above the flame.
A lamp is usually placed at either side of the entrance in the upper
apartment. Both are kept burning brightly the greater part of the long
cold, dark days of winter, but during the hours of sleep they are
“turned down,” that is, the lumps of blubber are raised; or sometimes
one lamp is extinguished and the other made to burn dimly. These lamps,
though chiefly designed to furnish light, also contribute a considerable
amount of heat to the igloes. It is often necessary to turn them down,
to prevent the snow walls from being melted by the heat, though the
temperature outside may be 40 or 50 degrees below zero.
Towards spring the snow-houses become very damp, and to prevent the roofs
from being melted away fresh snow has to be added to the outside. Before
they are abandoned for the skin tents they sometimes become so soft that
they cave in upon the occupants, causing much sickness in the form of
colds and pneumonia.
In their workmanship the Eskimos are always neat. Wood is used for
manufacturing purposes when it is available, but all they are able
to procure is of a fragmentary nature, such as has drifted from some
distant shore, or from the wreck of an unfortunate vessel. It is from
this rough and scanty material they frame their kyacks, make their
sleds, tent-poles, and the handles of their spears and harpoons; from it
they fashion their bows and many other useful or ornamental things, and
by exercise of untiring perseverance and skill they manage to produce
marvellous results. For example, a paddle is often made of two or three
pieces of wood, but these are joined together so neatly that if it were
not for the seal thong lashings the joints would not be noticeable.
The lashings are put on green, or after having been softened in water,
and are drawn tightly, so that when they become dry and shrink they
produce strong and rigid joints.
The process by which these lashing-thongs and heavy lines for hunting
purposes, as well as the small thread for sewing, are manufactured is
very interesting. A heavy harpoon line, used in the hunt for securing
walruses, is made from the skin of the “square flipper” seal, a large
species about eight feet long. For such use the skin is not removed from
the carcase in the usual way, but is pulled off without cutting it, as
one might pull off a wet stocking. The whole hide is thus preserved
in the form of a sack. It is then placed in water, and allowed to
remain there for several days, until the thin outer black skin becomes
decomposed. This, together with the hair, is readily peeled off, and a
clean white pelt remains.
Two men then take the pelt in hand, and with a sharp knife cut it into
one long even white line, by commencing at one end and cutting around and
around until at length the other end is reached. One skin in this way
will make three hundred feet of line. In this condition it is allowed to
partially dry, after which it is tightly stretched and dried thoroughly
in the sun. The result obtained is a hard even white line three-eighths
of an inch in diameter, but equal in strength to a three-inch manilla
rope.
I have seen such a line, when imbedded in the flesh of a walrus at one
end, and spiked to the hard ice at the other by a stout iron pin, as well
as being held by six men, plough a furrow six inches deep through the
ice, bend the spike and drag the six men to the edge of the ice, where
the tug of war ended, the walrus, victorious, taking the unbreakable line
with him into the deep.
Smaller seal thongs, such as are extensively used as lashings for
komiticks, kyacks, handles, etc., are made in much the same way as I
have described, except that the hide of smaller seals is used, and often
the process of removing the outer black skin is omitted, the hair being
simply scraped off with a sharp knife or scraper.
Finer lines, such as those used for fishing or for winding whip-stocks,
and thread for sewing purposes, are manufactured from reindeer sinew. The
best is that obtained from along the spine, which is always saved from
the carcase. It is prepared for use by first drying and then rubbing till
it becomes quite soft, when it is readily frayed out into fine fibres,
in which condition it is used for fine needle-work; but when coarser
thread or stout cord is required, these individual fibres are plaited
together, with wonderful neatness and rapidity. One woman can make fifty
or sixty yards of this cord or thread in a day.
With the Eskimos all joints, of whatever kind, are secured by these
thongs, they having no nails or screws to supply their place. In making a
komitick, the cross slats are all secured to the runners by seal thongs.
In framing a kyack the numerous pieces are lashed together, usually with
seal or deer-skin, though sometimes, and preferably, with whalebone.
[Illustration: ESKIMO KYACK.]
The Eskimo kyack or canoe consists of a light frame neatly made from
all sorts of scrap-wood, and strongly jointed together in the way just
described. The frame having been completed, it is then covered with green
skins, either of seal or deer, dressed, with the hair removed. The skins
are joined to each other as they are put on by double water-tight seams,
and are drawn tightly over the frame, so that when they dry they become
very hard and as tight as a drum-head.
A full-sized kyack thus made is about twenty-two feet long, a foot and
a half wide, and a foot deep. It is completely covered over on the top,
excepting the small hole where the paddler sits, so that though an
extremely cranky craft in the hands of a novice, it is used in perfect
safety, even in very rough water, by an expert. Indeed the Eskimos have
an arrangement by which they can travel while almost submerged in the
water. They have a thin waterproof parchment coat which they pull on over
their heads in rough weather. This they place on the outside of the rim
at the opening of the kyack, and tie securely, so that if the boat were
to turn upside down the water could not rush in.
An Eskimo in his kyack can travel much faster than two men can paddle
an ordinary canoe. I have known them to make six miles an hour in dead
water, whereas four miles would be good going for a canoe.
[Illustration: ESKIMO OOMIACK.]
The “oomiack,” or woman’s boat, is a flat-bottomed affair of large
carrying capacity. Like the kyack it is a skin-covered frame, the many
pieces of which are lashed together with thongs of skin or whalebone;
but instead of being covered on top it is open, and is of a much broader
model, and not so sharp at the ends. It is chiefly used by the women
for moving camp from place to place, but is never used in the hunt. It
is essentially a freighting craft, whereas the kyack is used only for
hunting or speedy travel. Oomiacks are often made large enough to carry
thirty or forty people. They are propelled by ordinary paddles, not by
the long double-bladed ones used with the kyacks.
The komitick is a sled of rather peculiar design, consisting simply of
two parallel runners, twelve or fourteen feet long, built of wood and
placed about eighteen inches apart, upon the top of which are lashed a
number of cross bars or slats. The runners are shod either with ivory
or with mud, the latter answering the purpose exceedingly well. The mud
covering is, of course, put on in a soft state, when it can be easily
worked and formed into proper shape. When the mud is on, and the surface
nicely smoothed off, it is allowed to freeze, and speedily becomes as
hard as stone. In order to complete the vehicle, and put it in good
running order, there is one thing to be done. The shoeing, whether of
mud or ivory, must be covered with a thin coating of ice, in order to do
which the Eskimo overturns the komitick, fills his spacious mouth with
water from some convenient source, and then from his lips deposits a
fine stream along the runner, where, quietly freezing, it forms a smooth
glassy surface.
During the winter season the komitick forms an important factor in the
Eskimo’s life. It is drawn by a team, not of horses, nor even reindeer,
but of dogs. The number of animals forming a team varies greatly,
sometimes consisting of not more than three good dogs, but at other times
fifteen or more are attached to a single sled. Each dog is attached by
a single line, the length of which varies according to the merits of
its owner. Thus the best dog in the team acts as leader, and has a line
twenty or twenty-five feet in length.
In order to control the team the driver carries a whip of somewhat
startling dimensions. This instrument of torture has a short wooden
handle only about eighteen inches long, but what is lacking in stock is
more than made up in lash, for this latter, made of the hide of the
square flipper seal, is nearly thirty feet in length. An Eskimo can
handle his whip with great dexterity, being able not only to reach any
particular dog in the pack, but to strike any part of its body, and with
as much force as the occasion may require.
Another curious Eskimo practice, observed by the women, is that of daily
chewing the boots of the household. As already intimated, these boots or
moccasins are made of oil-tanned seal or deer-skins. The hair is always
removed from the skin of which the foot of the moccasin is made, but not
always from that part forming the leg. However, the point is this, that
these moccasins, after having been wet and dried again, become very hard,
and the most convenient or effective—or possibly the most agreeable—way
of softening them seems to be by mastication. Whatever may be the reason
for adopting this method, the fact is that nearly every morning the
native women soften the shoes of the family most beautifully by chewing
them. What to us would seem the disagreeable part of this operation
cannot be thoroughly understood by one who has not some idea of the
flavor of a genuine old Eskimo shoe.
In one of my trips in the land of the Eskimo I had an escort composed
not only of men and women, old and young, but also of little children,
several of whom could not have been more than five or six years old,
and it was marvellous to see the powers of endurance of these little
creatures, for they travelled along with the rest of the party, a
distance of twenty-five miles, having no other object in view than that
of seeing the white stranger.
The “shin-ig-bee,” or Eskimo sleeping bag, is an article essential to the
comfort of the traveller when making long overland journeys during the
cold winter season. It consists of a long oval waterproof skin bag, lined
with another of similar shape, made of soft but heavy winter deer-skins.
The opening is not at the top, but near it, across one side, and is made
with flap and buttons, so that it can be closed up as closely as desired.
When the traveller is provided with this kind of a bed he does not
trouble himself to make a snow lodge for the night, as without it he
would have to do, but he simply crawls into his “shin-ig-bee,” buttons up
the opening on the windward side, and goes to sleep, no matter what the
weather or temperature may be. With the mercury at 40 below zero a man
may in this way sleep warm and comfortable, without any fire, out upon
the bleak frozen plains.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: DOG-WHIP, WALRUS TUSKS AND BOWS AND ARROWS.]