The stems are very seldom left bare, but are almost invariably

decorated with colored porcupine quills, woven into various patterns,

sometimes representing the forms of men and animals. The calumet is

always decorated with a row of eagle feathers, sometimes stained

scarlet, and being tufted at their ends with slight plumes of hair.

Indeed, this portion of the calumet is formed on exactly the same

principle as the headdress of the chief, of which a drawing is given

on page 1277. An example of this kind of pipe is shown in the upper

figure, on page 1315. Many pipes, instead of feathers, have long tufts

of hair dyed scarlet. This hair is taken either from the tail of a

white horse or that of a white bison, as in the lower figure of the

same illustration. The woodpecker furnishes many ornaments for these

pipes, and sometimes the stem passes through the preserved skin of a

bird, or through that of a particularly beautiful ermine. But whatever

may be the ornament of a medicine pipe, it is always the very best and

most valuable that can be procured. The stem of the pipe varies from

two to four feet.

The natives do not restrict themselves to tobacco, but smoke

many narcotic vegetables, whether leaves, roots, or bark. These

are generally mixed with tobacco, and go by the general name of

_k’neck-k’neck_.

The custom of sacrifice obtains among all Indian tribes and is

performed in various ways and upon many occasions. Cruel as the Indian

is reputed to be, none of the tribes, except the Pawnees, have ever

made human sacrifices; and these many years since abandoned the inhuman

custom.

Their offerings to the Great Spirit must consist of the best of their

possessions: the choicest piece of buffalo meat, the finest arrow, the

most costly piece of cloth, the favorite horse or dog, and sometimes

their own fingers. Such offerings are erected over the great medicine

lodge in the centre of the village. When Mr. Catlin was among the

Mandans there was placed there beside other gifts a beautiful skin of a

buffalo, the history of which he gives as follows:--“A few weeks since

a party of Mandans returned from the mouth of the Yellow Stone with

information that a party of Blackfeet were there on business with the

American Fur Company, and that they had with them a white buffalo robe.

Such a robe is a great curiosity, even in the country of buffaloes,

and will always command an incredible price. Being the most costly

article in the region it is usually converted into a sacrifice, being

offered to the Great Spirit as the rarest and most acceptable gift that

can be procured. Among the vast herds of buffaloes there is not one in

a hundred thousand, perhaps, that is white; and when such is obtained

it is considered a great medicine or mystery.

“Receiving the intelligence above mentioned the chiefs convened in

council and deliberated on the propriety of procuring this valuable

robe. At the close of their deliberation eight men were fitted out on

eight of their best horses, who took from the Fur Company’s store, on

the credit of the chief, goods exceeding the value of the horses. They

arrived in due time, made the purchase, and leaving their horses and

all the goods carried, returned on foot, bringing the coveted robe,

which was regarded as vastly curious and containing (as they express

it) something of the Great Spirit. This wonderful anomaly lay several

days in the chief’s lodge, till public curiosity was gratified; then

it was taken by the high priests, and with a great deal of ceremony

consecrated and raised on the top of a long pole over the medicine

lodge, where it stands and will stand as an offering to the Great

Spirit, until it decays and falls to the ground.”

[Illustration: INDIAN PIPES. (From my collection.)

(_See pages 1313, 1314._)]

CHAPTER CXXXIX.

THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS--_Continued_.

SOCIAL LIFE.

MARRIAGE -- AN ENTERPRISING BRIDEGROOM, AND HIS SUDDEN ELEVATION TO

RANK -- TREATMENT OF WOMEN -- TREATMENT OF CHILDREN -- PORTRAIT OF

PSHAN-SHAW -- OF INDIAN BOY -- THE CRADLE -- THE FLAT-HEADED TRIBES

-- AFFECTION OF THE MOTHERS -- THE COUCH OF MOURNING -- ABANDONING

THE SICK AND OLD -- DANCES OF THE TRIBES -- GAMES -- THE SPEAR AND

RING GAME -- PAGESSAN, OR THE BOWL GAME -- THE BALL PLAY -- THE

BALL DANCE -- STARTING THE GAME, AND EXCITING SCENES -- THE WOMEN’S

BALL PLAY -- HORSE-RACING -- CANOE-MAKING -- THE CANOE RACE --

PRIMITIVE SAILS -- SWIMMING -- THE LEAPING ROCK -- QUILL ORNAMENTS

-- BARK-BITING -- WIGWAMS -- MUSIC -- PLEDGE OF FIDELITY -- DISPOSAL

OF THE DEAD -- BURIAL OF BLACKBIRD -- REFLECTIONS UPON CHARACTER AND

DESTINY OF THE INDIANS.

The ordinary social life of these interesting tribes now comes before

us. As to marriage, there is little to distinguish it from the same

ceremony among other uncivilized tribes, the girl being in fact

purchased from her father, and her affections not necessarily, though

generally, considered. A man may have as many wives as he can afford to

keep, and when he can purchase four or five, their labor in the field

is worth even more to the household than his exertions in the hunting

field.

Mr. Catlin relates one rather amusing wedding.

There was a young lad, the son of a chief, whom his father started

in life with a handsome wigwam, or tent, nine horses, and many

other valuable presents. On receiving these presents, the young man

immediately conceived a plan by which he could perform an act which

would be unique. He went to one of the chiefs, and asked for the hand

of his daughter, promising in return two horses, a gun, and several

pounds of tobacco. The marriage was fixed for a certain day, but the

transaction was to be kept a profound secret until the proper time.

Having settled the business, he went to three other chiefs, and made

exactly the same bargain with each of them, and imposed silence equally

upon all.

On the appointed day, he announced to the tribe that he was to be

married at a certain hour. The people assembled, but no one knew who

was to be the bride, while each of the four fathers stood proudly

by his daughter, inwardly exulting that he alone was in the secret.

Presently the young bridegroom advanced to the chief to whom he had

made the first offer, and gave him, according to his promise, the two

horses, the gun, and the tobacco. The other three fathers immediately

sprang forward, each denouncing the whole affair, and saying that

the offer was made to his daughter, and to his alone. In the midst

of great confusion, which was partially quelled by the chiefs and

doctors, the young bridegroom addressed the assembly, saying that he

had promised each of the claimants two horses, a gun, and a certain

amount of tobacco in exchange for his daughter, and that he expected

them to fulfil their part of the contract. There was no gainsaying the

argument, and in the sight of the admiring spectators, he delivered the

stipulated price into the hands of the parents, and led off his four

brides, two in each hand, to his wigwam.

The action was so bold, and so perfectly unique, that the doctors

immediately determined that a lad of nineteen who could act in this

manner must have a very strong medicine, and was worthy to be ranked

among themselves. So they at once installed him a member of their

mystery, thereby placing him on a level with the greatest of the

tribe, and by that bold _coup_ the lad raised himself from a mere

untried warrior to the height of native ambition, namely, a seat in the

Council, and a voice in the policy of the tribe.

[Illustration: (1.) EE-A-CHIN-CHE-A. (See page 1285.)]

[Illustration: (2.) A BLACKFOOT BOY. (See page 1319.)]

[Illustration: (3.) PSHAN-SHAW. (See page 1319.)]

The Indian women are the slaves of their husbands. They have to perform

all the domestic duties and drudgeries of the tribe, and are never

allowed to unite in their religious ceremonies or amusements.

That the reader may form a better idea of the appearance and dress

of the women, I have given on the preceding page the portrait of a

beautiful girl of the Riccarees (a part of the Pawnee tribe), whose

name is Pshan-shaw (the Sweet-scented Grass). “The inner garment, which

is like a frock, is entire in one piece, and tastefully ornamented

with embroidery and beads. A row of elk’s teeth passes across the

breast, and a robe of young buffalo’s skin, elaborately embroidered,

is gracefully thrown over her shoulders, and hangs down to the ground

behind her.”

On the same page the reader may find, as illustrative of Indian

childhood, a portrait of the grandson of a chief of the Blackfeet, a

boy of six years of age. He is represented at full length, with bow and

quiver slung, and his robe of raccoon skin thrown over his shoulder.

This young chief, his father dying, was twice stolen by the Crows, and

twice recaptured by the Blackfeet, and then placed in the care of a Mr.

M’Kenzie until he should be old enough to assume the chieftainship of

his tribe, or be able to defend himself against his foes.

The Indian mothers do not have many children, possibly owing to the

early age at which they marry. For example, the ages of the four brides

just mentioned ranged from twelve to fifteen. Two or three is the

average, and a family of five is considered quite a large one.

The children are carried about much in the same way as those of the

Araucanians. A sort of cradle is made by bandaging the infant to a flat

board, the feet resting on a broad hoop that passes over the end of the

cradle. Another hoop passes over the face of the child, and to it are

hung sundry little toys and charms; the one for the amusement of the

infant, and the other for its preservation through the many perils of

infantile life. When the mother carries the child, she hangs the cradle

on her back by means of a broad strap that passes over her forehead.

Both the cradle and band are ornamented with the most brilliant colors

which native art can furnish, and are embroidered in various patterns

with dyed porcupine quills.

Among the tribes which inhabit the banks of the Columbia River, and a

considerable tract that lies contiguous to it, the cradle is put to

a singular use, which has earned for the tribes the general title of

Flat-heads. To the upper part of the cradle is fastened a piece of

board, which lies on the child’s forehead. To the other end of the

board are fastened two strings, which pass round the foot or sides of

the cradle. As soon as the infant is laid on its back, the upper board

is brought over its forehead, and fastened down by the strings. Every

day the pressure is increased, until at last the head is so flattened

that a straight line can be drawn from the crown of the head to the

nose. One of these cradles with a child undergoing this process of head

flattening, is illustrated below. The mother’s head is a type of its

permanent effect.

[Illustration: THE FLAT-HEADED WOMAN.]

This is perhaps the most extraordinary of all the fashionable

distortions of the human body, and the wasp waist of an European belle,

the distorted leg of the female Carib, and even the cramped foot of the

Chinese beauty, appear insignificant when compared with the flattened

head of a Chinnook or Klick-a-tack Indian. Mr. Catlin states that this

custom was one far more extended than is the case at present, and

that even the Choctaw and Chickasaw tribes of Mississippi and Alabama

were accustomed to flatten their heads, their burial-places affording

incontrovertible evidence that such must have been the case, and at no

very distant date.

The reader, especially if he dabble in phrenology, might well imagine

that such a practice must act injuriously upon the mental capacities

of those who are subjected to it. Let us, for example, fancy a skull

which has been so ruthlessly compressed that it only measures an inch

and a half, or at the most two inches, in depth, at the back; that it

is in consequence much elongated, and forced outward at the sides,

so that it is nearly half as wide again as it would have been if it

had been permitted to assume its normal form. The hair, combed down

in one place, and expanding in others, would seem to have its natural

capabilities much altered, even if not in many cases destroyed. Yet

those who have mixed with the Flat-headed tribes say that the intellect

is in no way disturbed, much less injured, and that those members

of the tribe who have escaped the flattening process are in no way

intellectually superior to those who have undergone it. Indeed, as

Mr. P. Kane observes, in his “Wanderings of an Artist,” the Chinnooks

despise those who retain the original shape of their heads. They always

select their slaves from the round-headed tribes, the flattened head

being the sign of freedom.

There is another point about the head flattening which deserves

attention. Seeing that it is begun almost in the same hour that the

infant is born, and is continued for eight months to a year or more, it

might naturally be imagined that it would cause considerable pain to

the child, and in many cases be dangerous to life. This, however, is

not the case; and that it should not be so is one of the many proofs of

the extent to which the human frame may be distorted without permanent

injury. Mr. Kane’s remarks are as follows:--

“It might be supposed, from the extent to which this is carried, that

the operation would be attended with great suffering to the infant, but

I have never heard the infants crying or moaning, although I have seen

the eyes seemingly starting out of the sockets from the great pressure.

But on the contrary, when the lashings were removed, I have noticed

them cry until they were replaced. From the apparent dulness of the

children while under pressure, I should imagine that a state of torpor

or insensibility is induced, and that the return to consciousness

occasioned by its removal must be naturally followed by the sense of

pain.”

Should a child die before it is old enough to be released from the

cradle, the mother is not released from her maternal duties, but, on

the contrary, continues to perform them as assiduously as if the little

creature were living.

After the child is buried, she makes a “mourning-cradle,” _i. e._ in

the place which the child had formerly occupied she places a large

bundle of black feathers, by way of representative of the deceased

infant, and treats it in all respects as if the little one still

occupied the cradle. She carries it on her back wherever she goes, and

when she rests, stands it upright against a tree or the side of the

hut, and talks to it as if to a living child. This custom is continued

for at least a year, and in many cases is extended even beyond that

period. And, though a bereaved mother may be so poor as scarcely to

have sufficient clothing for herself, she will contrive to decorate the

cradle of her lost child with the appropriate ornaments.

As a rule, the North American Indians are affectionate parents. Mr.

Catlin mentions an instance where he had painted a portrait of a

married woman, the daughter of a chief. Some time afterward she died,

and the father, happening to see and recognize the portrait of his lost

daughter, offered ten horses--an enormous price for an American Indian

to pay. Of course the portrait was presented to him at once.

Parental affection is fully reciprocated by the children, and the

greatest respect paid by the younger to the elder men. Yet we find even

among them, as among so many tribes which lead a semi-nomad existence,

the custom of abandoning the sick and aged when they are obliged to

make a forced march of any distance.

This is generally done at the instance of the victims themselves, who

say that they are old and useless, and can be only an encumbrance to

the rest of the tribe. Accordingly, a rude shelter is formed of a bison

hide stretched over four upright rods, under which the sick man is

laid; a basin of water and some food are placed by his side; and he is

left to perish, if not by privation or disease, by the ranging flocks

of wolves that roam the prairies.

* * * * *

We will now pass to a more agreeable phase in the life of these tribes,

and take a glance at their dances and games.

It has been the prevalent impression that the Indian is taciturn,

unsocial, and morose. Mr. Catlin, whose testimony cannot be impeached,

takes considerable pains to correct this opinion; and states as the

result of his travels among the Indian tribes, that “they are a far

more talkative and conversational race than can easily be seen in the

civilized world. No one can look into the wigwams of these people, or

into any little momentary group of them, without being at once struck

with the conviction that small talk, garrulity, story-telling and

amusements, are leading passions with them.” To watch their games,

and hear their shouts of exultation, in any of their villages, to sit

down in their lodges and listen to their jokes, repartee, anecdote and

laughter, would effectually banish this erroneous opinion so generally

held in regard to the Red Men. With no anxieties for the future--no

necessities goading them, it is natural that they should be a merry

people, and most of their life be spent in sports and games.

[Illustration: (1.) BIRCH BARK CANOE. (See page 1326.)]

[Illustration: (2.) DANCE TO THE MEDICINE OF THE BRAVE. (See page

1323.)]

[Illustration: (3.) THE SNOW SHOE DANCE. (See page 1323.)]

The Indian fondness for amusement is shown in the great variety of

their dances, most of which are very fanciful and picturesque, though

some of them have a religious significance. There are the ball-play

dance, pipe dance, buffalo and scalp dances (already described),

beggar’s, bear, and dog dances. But the most pleasing of all are the

eagle dance, dance of the braves which is peculiarly attractive,

and the green corn and snow-shoe dances. The latter is exceedingly

picturesque, and the artist has represented it on the preceding page.

Before the first snow shoe hunt, the Indians always perform a dance

by way of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for sending the snow which

will enable them to live in plenty so long as it lasts. Several spears

are stuck upright in the snow covered ground, on one of which are

tied a pair of snow shoes, and on the others sundry sacred feathers

and similar objects. The dancers, clad in hunting dress, and wearing

snow shoes, go round and round the spears, imitating the while all the

movements of the chase, and singing a song of thanksgiving.

Nearly all the tribes, however remote from each other, have a season

of festivity annually, when the ears of corn are large enough for

eating. Green corn is regarded a great luxury, and is dealt out with

most improvident profusion--the festivities lasting eight or ten

days. The whole tribe feast and surfeit upon it so long as it lasts,

making sacrifices, singing songs of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit,

and celebrating the green corn dance. Every occupation is suspended

during these festivities, and all unite in the carnival of gluttony

and merriment. Mr. Catlin thus describes this dance:--“At the time

when the corn is thought to be nearly ready for use, several of

the old women, who have fields or patches of corn (the men disdain

such degrading occupations as cultivating the field or garden), are

appointed by the medicine men to examine the cornfields at sunrise

every day, and bring to the council house several ears of corn, which

they must on no account break open or look into. When the doctors,

from their examination, decide that the corn is suitable, they send

criers to proclaim to every part of the village or tribe that the Great

Spirit has been kind, and they must meet next day to return thanks to

Him. In the midst of the assembled tribe, a kettle filled with corn is

hung over a fire. While this corn is being boiled, four medicine men,

each with a stalk of corn in one hand and a rattle in the other, their

bodies painted with white clay, dance around it chanting a thanksgiving

to the Great Spirit, to whom the corn is to be offered. In a more

extended circle around them, a number of warriors dance, joining in the

same song. During this scene, wooden bowls are laid upon the ground, in

which the feast is to be dealt out.”

When the doctors decide that the corn is sufficiently boiled, the

dance assumes a different form, and a new song is sung, the doctors

in the meantime placing the corn on a scaffold of sticks built over

the fire, where it is consumed. This fire is then removed, the ashes

are all buried, and a new fire is originated on the same spot, and in

the same way as by the Hottentots, described on page 100. Then corn is

boiled for the feast, at which the doctors and warriors are seated. An

unlimited license is given to the whole tribe, who mingle excess and

amusement until the fields of corn are stripped, or it has become too

hard for eating.

The dance of the braves is beautiful and exciting in the highest

degree:--“At intervals the dancers stop, and one of them steps into

the ring and vociferates as loudly as possible the feats of bravery

which he has performed during his life.... He boasts of the scalps he

has taken, and reproduces the motions and actions of the scenes in

which his exploits were performed. When his boasting is concluded,

all assent to the truth of his story, and express their approval by

the guttural ‘_waugh!_’ Then the dance commences again. At the next

interval another makes his boast, and so another and another, till all

have given a narrative of their heroic deeds, and proved their right to

be associated with the braves of the nation.”

The dog dance, though a favorite with the Sioux, is not an attractive

one.

The hearts and livers of two or more slain dogs are placed entire and

uncooked upon two crotches, about as high as a man’s head, and are

cut into strips so as to hang down. The dance then commences, which

consists in each one proclaiming his exploits in loud, almost deafening

gutturals and yells. At the same time the dancers, two at a time, move

up to the stake, and bite off a piece of the heart and swallow it. All

this is done without losing step or interrupting the harmony of their

voices. The significance of the dance is that none can share in it but

the braves who can boast that they have killed their foe in battle and

swallowed a piece of his heart.

Among the Sacs and Foxes there are several singular dances, besides

some already mentioned, viz: the slave dance (a very curious one),

dance to the Berdashe, which is an amusing scene, and dance to the

medicine of the brave. There is a tender and beautiful lesson conveyed

in this latter dance. In the illustration of it on page 1322, a party

of Sac warriors are represented as returned victorious from battle,

with the scalps they have taken as trophies. Having lost one of their

party, they appear and dance in front of his wigwam fifteen days in

succession, about an hour each day, the widow having hung his medicine

bag on a green bush, which she erects before her door, and under which

she sits and cries whilst the warriors dance and brandish the scalps

they have taken. At the same time they recount the heroic exploits

of their fallen comrade, to solace the grief of his widow, and they

throw her presents as they dance before her, that she may be kept from

poverty and suffering.

There is little in these dances that resembles the “light fantastic

toe” and giddy maze of the dance among the civilized. The former

consist very much of jumps and starts--oftentimes the most grotesque,

and even violent exertions--united with songs and yells, sometimes

deafening by their sound or fearful by the wildness and intense

excitement that are manifested.

To a looker on not familiar with the peculiar significance of these

displays, they seem only a series of uncouth and meaningless motions

and distortions, accompanied with harsh sounds, all forming a strange,

almost frightful medley. Yet Mr. Catlin says “every dance has its

peculiar step and every step has its meaning. Every dance has also its

peculiar song, which is so intricate and mysterious oftentimes, that

not one in ten of the young men who are singing know the meaning of the

songs. None but medicine men are allowed to understand them.” There are

dances and songs, however, not so intricate, which are understood and

participated in by all the tribe.

The beating of drums, the yells, stamping, and bellowing, the noisy

demonstrations forming so great a part of Indian amusements, will

remind the reader of similar manifestations among some of the African

tribes, recorded in the first part of this work.

The game which is perhaps the most popular and widely spread is almost

unintelligible to an uninstructed bystander. Its title is Tchung-chee,

that being the name of the spear which will be presently described. It

is played with a ring about three inches in diameter, made of bone or

wood wrapped with cord, and a slight spear, on which are several little

projections of leather. The players roll the ring along the ground, and

as it is about to fall, project the spear so that, as the ring falls,

it may receive within it one of the pieces of leather. If it does so,

the player scores one or more points, according to the particular

projection which is caught in the ring, and the mode in which it flies.

Another variation of this game, called Al-kol-lock, has the spear

without the leathern projections, but in their stead six colored beads

are fixed inside the ring. At each end of the smooth clay course, which

is about fifty feet in length, a slight barrier is erected. The players

bowl the ring from one end of the course, run after it, and as it falls

after striking the barrier, throw their spears as described above, the

points being reckoned according to the color of the bead which lies on

them.

The absorption of the players in this game is beyond description.

They will play at it all day, gamble away their horses, their tents,

their clothes, and, when they have lost all their property, will stake

themselves, the loser becoming the slave of the winner.

Another game, called Pagessan, or the bowl game, is very popular,

though it is a sedentary one, and lacks the graceful action that gives

so great a charm to the preceding game. It is played with a wooden

bowl, containing a number of pieces of wood carved into various forms;

some, which we may call the pieces, having round pedestals on which

to stand, and others, which we will term the pawns, being round, and

painted on one side and plain on the other. The players take the bowl

alternately, give it a shake, and set it in a hole in the ground. The

contents are then examined, and the points are scored according to the

number of pieces which stand on their pedestals. If the pawn has its

colored side upward, the player scores one point; if it has the plain

side uppermost, he deducts a point from his score. The position of

the pawns is entirely a question of chance, but considerable skill is

exerted in getting the pieces to stand on their pedestals.

The game which is most characteristic of the American Indians is the

celebrated ball game, a modification of which has been introduced into

England under the name of La Crosse. The principle on which it is

played is exactly that of foot-ball and hockey, namely, the driving of

a ball through a goal defended by the opposite party. We will first

take the game as it is played by the Choctaws. The reader will find it

illustrated on page 1311.

A ball is carefully made of white willow wood, and ornamented with

curious designs drawn upon it with a hot iron. The ball-sticks, or

racquets, are much like our own racquets, but with larger and more

slender handles, and with a very much smaller hoop. Each player carries

two of these sticks, one in each hand. The dress of the players is

very simple, being reduced to the waist-cloth, a tail made of white

horsehair or quills, and a mane of dyed horsehair round the neck. The

belt by which the tail is sustained may be as highly ornamented as

possible, and the player may paint himself as brilliantly as he likes,

but no other article of clothing is allowed, not even moccasins on the

feet.

On the evening of the appointed day, the two parties repair to the

ground where the goals have been already set up, some two hundred yards

apart, and there perform the ball-play dance by torchlight. Exactly in

the middle between the goals, where the ball is to be started, sit four

old medicine men, singing and beating their drums, while the players

are clustered round their respective goals, singing at the top of their

voices, and rattling their ball-sticks together. This dance goes on

during the whole of the night, so that the players are totally deprived

of rest--a very bad preparation, as one would think, for the severe

exertion of the ensuing day. All the bets are made on this night,

the article staked, such as knives, blankets, guns, cooking utensils,

tobacco, and even horses and dogs, being placed in the custody of the

stakeholders, who sit by them and watch them all night.

About nine o’clock on the next morning the play begins. The four

medicine men, with the ball in their custody, seat themselves as

before, midway between the goals, while the players arrange themselves

for the attack and defence. At a given signal, the ball is flung high

in the air, and as it falls, the two opposing sets of players converge

upon it. As there are often several hundred players on each side, it

may be imagined that the scene is a most animated one.

“In these desperate struggles for the ball,” writes Mr. Catlin “where

hundreds are running together, and leaping actually over each other’s

heads, and darting between their adversaries’ legs, tripping, and

throwing, and foiling each other in every possible manner, and every

voice raised to its highest key, in shrill yelps and barks, there are

rapid successions of feats and incidents that astonish and amuse far

beyond the conception of any one who has not had the singular good luck

to witness them.

“In these struggles, every mode is used that can be devised to oppose

the progress of the foremost, who is likely to get the ball; and

these obstructions often meet desperate individual resistance, which

terminates in a violent scuffle, and sometimes in fisticuffs. Then

their sticks are dropped, and the parties are unmolested, whilst they

are settling it between themselves, except by a general _stampedo_, to

which those are subject who are down, if the ball happen to pass in

their direction. Every weapon, by a rule of all ball players, is laid

by in the respective encampments, and no man is allowed to go for one;

so that the sudden broils that take place on the ground are presumed to

be as suddenly settled without any probability of much personal injury,

and no one is allowed to interfere in any way with the contentious

individuals.

“There are times when the ball gets to the ground, and such a confused

mass is rushing together around it, and knocking their sticks together,

without a possibility of any one getting or seeing it for the dust

that they raise, that the spectator loses his strength, and everything

but his senses; when the condensed mass of ball sticks and shins and

bloody noses is carried around the different parts of the ground, for a

quarter of an hour at a time, without any one of the masses being able

to see the ball, which they are often scuffling for several minutes

after it has been thrown off and played over another part of the ground.

“For each time that the ball was passed between the goals of either

party, one was counted for their game, and they halted for about one

minute; when the ball was again started by the judges of the play, and

a similar struggle ensued; and so on until the successful party arrived

at 100, which was the limit of the play, and accomplished at an hour’s

sun, when they took the stakes.”

In this game the players are not allowed to strike the ball with their

sticks, or catch it in their hands; though to do so between the netted

ends of the sticks, and then to run away with it, is a feat which each

player tries his best to accomplish. Ball-play among the Sioux is

exactly the same in principle as that of the Choctaws, but the players

only carry one stick, which is wielded with both hands.

Sometimes the men are kind enough to indulge the women with a

ball-play, and to present a quantity of goods as prizes, hanging them

across a horizontal pole, in order to stimulate the players by the

sight. Such inferior beings as women are not, however, allowed to use

the ball and racquet of their superiors, the men, but play with a

couple of small bags filled with sand, and attached to each other by

means of a string about eighteen inches in length. Each of the players

is furnished with two slight sticks, about two feet in length, and

with these sticks they dexterously catch the sand bags, and fling them

toward the goals. The women play with quite as much enthusiasm as the

men, and the game often assumes the appearance of a general battle

rather than of a pastime.

Since the introduction of horses, the American Indians have become

very fond of horse racing, and bet so recklessly on the speed of their

animals that they often lose everything which they possess. In these

races neither the horse nor the rider are allowed to be costumed in

any way, not even a saddle or a girth being allowed. They also have

boat races, in which the spectators take as much interest as those who

witness the Oxford and Cambridge races. The canoes are mostly propelled

by one man only.

The canoes are of various forms and materials, according to the tribe

to which they belong. For example, the Mandans have an odd, circular

vessel, made from a bison hide, stretched over a wooden framework. This

is called a “bull boat,” and is propelled in a very singular manner.

A woman is the usual paddler, and she stands or kneels with her face

toward the direction in which she intends to proceed, and, thrusting

the paddle into the water as far forward as she can reach, draws it

smartly toward her, and thus propels the boat with considerable speed.

On one occasion, Mr. Catlin and two companions were desirous of

crossing the river, and were packed into one of these bull boats by the

wife of a chief. She then went into the water, and swam across the

river, towing the boat after her. As, however, she neared the opposite

bank, a number of young girls surrounded the canoe, took it into their

own management, and kept it in mid-stream, until the passengers,

utterly powerless in such a craft, ransomed themselves with bead

necklaces and other decorations. Then there is another kind of canoe,

which is simply a hollowed tree-trunk, and which is graphically called

a “dug-out.” No very particular care is taken about the shaping of this

simple boat, which is more like a punt than a canoe.

The best and most characteristic form of native canoe is that which is

made of the bark of the birch tree. The mode of making these canoes is

briefly as follows. Canoe building is a work in which both sexes take a

part. The men first select the largest and finest birch trees, with the

smoothest skins, and strip off large pieces of the bark. The women then

take charge of the bark, and, while it is still fresh and moist, clean

and scrape it as if it were leather, and then sew the pieces together,

so as to make the “cloak” of the future canoe.

While the women are at this work, the men are busily preparing the

skeleton of the canoe. This is made of the white cedar, the ribs being

cut and scraped until they are quite thin and light, and held in their

places by smaller cross-pieces, and a long thin piece of wood, which

runs round the entire edge of the boat, and is, in fact, the chief

support of the canoe. This is technically called the “maître.” No nails

are used, the whole of the junctions being effected by means of thongs

of bass, obtained from the inner bark of the white cedar.

The skeleton being completed, it is laid upon the cloak, which is

brought over the ribs, firmly lashed to the “maître,” and then by

degrees brought into its proper shape. A strengthening piece, called

the “faux maître,” is next tied along the whole of the gunwale in order

to protect it from injury, and the interior is lined with cedar boards,

scarcely thicker than pasteboard. When the canoe is finished and dry,

the holes through which the lashings have passed, as well as all the

junctions of the bark, are carefully stopped with pitch obtained

from the pine or fir-tree, and the weaker parts of the bark are also

strengthened with a coat of pitch.

The bark canoe of the Chippeways is, unquestionably, the most beautiful

model of all the water crafts ever invented. It is usually made

complete, from the rind of one birch tree, and so ingeniously formed

and put together, that it is water-tight, and will ride upon the water

with singular grace and swiftness.

These canoes are wonderfully light, as indeed is necessary for the

navigation of the rivers. The many rapids would effectually prevent

a boat from passing up the river, were it not for the plan called

“portage.” When the canoe arrives at the foot of a rapid, it is taken

ashore, the crew land, take all the goods out of the canoe, and carry

them to the opposite side of the rapid. They then go back for the canoe

itself, launch it in the smooth water above the rapid, and load it, and

proceed on their journey. The figure at the head of page 1322 will give

the reader a good idea of the form of the birch bark canoe.

These vessels can be propelled with wonderful speed, as they sit on

the surface like ducks, and, when empty, scarcely draw two inches of

water. The number of paddlers varies according to the size of the boat,

but the course is regulated by the two who sit respectively in the bow

and stern, whom we may for convenience call the “bow” and “stroke.” It

is the duty of the “bow” to look carefully ahead for any rocks or any

other obstacles, and, by movements well understood, to indicate their

presence to the “stroke,” who, with a sweep of the paddle, brings the

canoe round in the direction indicated by the “bow.”

The canoes which are used in races are made of birch bark, and are

almost always of small size--so small, indeed, that a man can easily

carry his canoe on his head from his house to the water’s edge, and

then launch it without assistance. Mr. Catlin gives a very animated

description of a canoe race, the competitors being accompanied by large

canoes, full of their respective friends, who yell encouragements

to the antagonists, fire guns in the air, and render the scene a

singularly exciting one, even to a stranger.

Toward the right hand of the illustration which depicts the canoe race,

on the following page, the reader may see a curious mode of propelling

canoes, which is often adopted when there is no necessity for speed

and the wind is favorable. The man who acts as “bow” stands up in the

front of the canoe, extends a robe or a blanket in his two hands, and

then he presses the two other corners at the bottom of the boat with

his feet. The robe thus becomes an extemporized sail, of which the man

is the mast. In this manner a canoe is often carried for a considerable

distance, to the great relief of the paddlers.

An European would instantly upset the fragile canoe if he tried to

stand erect in it; but the natives are absolutely perfect masters of

their little vessels, and seem to move about in them as easily and

firmly as if on dry land. They will load a canoe within an inch and

a half of the water’s edge, and paddle it for a whole day, without

dreaming of danger. And an accomplished canoe man will take a fish

spear in his hand, place a foot on each gunwale of the boat, and,

propelled by a friend in the stern of the boat, dart down rapids,

spearing fish as he shoots along, hauling the struggling fish out of

the water, and shaking them into the boat behind him.

[Illustration: (1.) CANOE RACE. (See page 1326.)]

[Illustration: (2.) ESQUIMAUX DWELLINGS. (See page 1335.)]

Among most Indian tribes, when mourning for the death of relatives, the

women are required to cut their hair entirely off, and the period of

mourning is until it has grown to its former length. As long tresses

are so highly valued by most of the tribes this is no small sacrifice.

But long hair being of much more importance to the men they cut off

only a lock or two, to indicate grief or affliction for their departed

kindred.

There is a game which has in it somewhat of a religious aspect. On the

border of the Great Pipe-stone Quarry a solitary rock rises from the

plain. It resembles a large pillar, being only a few feet in diameter,

though more than thirty feet in height. It is situated within a short

distance from the edge of the precipice, and the Indians who come to

procure red stone for their pipes often try to leap upon it and back

again. The mere leap to the rock is comparatively easy, but there are

two terrible dangers which threaten the leaper. In the first place, the

small, flat surface of the rock is so polished and smooth, that if the

leaper should exert too much power, he must slip off, and be killed

on the sharp rocks below. Should he retain his foot-hold he has still

a difficult task in regaining the spot whence he sprang, as he can

take no run, and the slippery surface of the rock affords but a slight

fulcrum from which he can take his spring.

Before an Indian essays this terrible leap, he offers up many prayers

to the Great Spirit for help and protection, and he has at all events

the satisfaction of knowing that, if he should fail, his body will be

buried in the sacred ground of the nation. Those who succeed leave an

arrow sticking in the rock, and have a right to boast of it at every

public meeting when they are called upon to speak. No man would dare to

boast of this feat without having performed it, as he would at once be

challenged to visit the Leaping Rock and to point out his arrow.

If the reader will refer to the figure of the canoe on page 1322, he

will see that its sides are decorated with a pattern. This is made by

fastening dyed porcupine quills to the sides of the little vessel.

Porcupine quills are used very largely for ornaments, and, even though

they have been partly superseded by beads, are still in use for

decorating the dresses and utensils of the natives.

These quills are never so long or thick as those of the porcupine of

the Old World, and are naturally white or gray, so that they can easily

take any desired dye. They are first sorted very carefully into their

different sizes, the largest rarely exceeding three inches in length,

while the smaller are quite thread-like, and can be passed through the

eye of an ordinary needle. Both ends are sharp. When the native artist

desires to produce a pattern, the design is first drawn on the right

side of the bark or leather; the two ends of the quill are then pushed

through the fabric, and fastened on the wrong side, the quill acting

both as needle and thread.

Perhaps the most ingenious mode of making ornaments is that which

is practised by the Ojibbeway women, and called Bark-biting. The

following description of this curious art is given by Mr. Kohl in his

“Kitchi-Gami:”--

“This is an art which the squaws chiefly practise in spring, in their

sugar plantations. Still, they do not all understand it, and only a few

are really talented. I heard that a very celebrated bark-biter resided

at the other side of St. Mary’s River, in Canada, and that another, of

the name of Angélique Marte, lived in our cataract village. Naturally,

I set out at once to visit the latter.

“Extraordinary geniuses must usually be sought here, as in Paris, on

the fifth floor, or in some remote faubourg. Our road to Angélique

Marte led us past the little cluster of houses representing our village

far into the desert. We came to morasses, and had to leap from stone

to stone. Between large masses of scattered granite block, the remains

of the missiles which the Indians say Menaboju and his father hurled

at each other in the battle they fought here, we at length found the

half-decayed birch-hut of our pagan artiste, who herself was living in

it like a hermit.

“The surrounding landscape seemed better adapted for a _renversi_ than

for an _atélier_. When we preferred our request for some specimen of

her tooth carving, she told us that all her hopes as regarded her art

were concentrated in one tooth. At least she had only one in her upper

jaw properly useful for this operation. She began, however, immediately

selecting proper pieces of bark, peeling off the thin skin, and

doubling up the pieces, which she thrust between her teeth.

“As she took up one piece after the other, and went through the

operation very rapidly, one artistic production after the other fell

from her lips. We unfolded the bark, and found on one the figure of a

young girl, on another a bouquet of flowers, on a third a tomahawk,

with all its accessories, very correctly designed, as well as several

other objects. The bark is not bitten into holes, but only pressed

with the teeth, so that, when the designs are held up, they resemble,

to some extent, those pretty porcelain transparencies made as

light-screens.”

The mode of constructing the wigwam is very much the same among the

various tribes. Generally it is made of dressed buffalo skins sewed

together and arranged in the form of a tent, with a score or more of

poles about twenty-five feet in height, as a support, and with an

opening at the apex for the escape of smoke or the admission of light.

The Crows, however, excel all others in the style of their lodge. They

dress the skins almost as white as linen, embellish them with porcupine

quills, and paint them in various ways so as to make their tents

exceedingly beautiful and picturesque.

The Indian lodges may be removed in a few minutes. The taking down and

the transportation is the work of the squaws. A tribe will generally

remove six or eight times in a summer in order to find good hunting

grounds among the herds of buffaloes.

The Indian tribes judging from their musical instruments, have little

taste or skill in music. These are very rude, and consist of rattles,

drums, the mystery whistle, war whistle and deer skin flute. The war

whistle is from six to nine inches in length, made of the bone of the

deer’s or turkey’s leg, with porcupine quills wound around it. The

chief wears this to battle under his dress. It has only two notes--one,

produced by blowing into one end of it, is shrill, and is the summons

to battle; and the other sounds a retreat. Even in the noise of battle

and amid the cries and yells of their fierce conflicts, this little

instrument can be distinctly heard.

The chief pledge of friendship among these tribes, is a dog feast.

If we consider that the dog is an object of special affection with

the Indians; that he is more valued by them than anywhere else on

the globe;--we can understand the significance of this feast. This

sacrifice of what is dearest to them is therefore the very strongest

evidence of friendship. On their coats of arms, on the rocks, they

carve the image of the dog, and everywhere and always, he is the

emblem of fidelity. Accordingly, to ratify friendship, to give the

most unquestionable proof of honor and devotion, the Indian will take

his beloved companion of the chase and wigwam, and offer it as the

sacrifice to hospitality and affection.

These feasts are conducted in the most solemn and impressive manner,

as if with the conviction that the pledge of friendship is a sacred

thing. Those were tender words which Catlin gives at the conclusion of

an Indian chief’s address to him and other white guests, to whom such

a feast had been given: “we offer you to-day not the best we have got,

for we have plenty of good buffalo hump and marrow--but we give you our

hearts in this feast--we have killed our faithful dogs to feed you, and

the Great Spirit will seal our friendship. I have no more to say.”

* * * * *

We come now to consider the customs of the Indians in regard to death

and the disposal of the dead.

The Mandans take the body of the deceased, clothe it in his best robes

and ornaments, furnish it with food, pipes, tobacco, and arrows, and

wrap it up in skins previously soaked in water, so as to render them

pliant, and cause them to exclude the air as much as possible. The body

is then placed upon a slight scaffold, some seven feet in height, and

left to decay. In process of time, the scaffold gives way and falls,

when the relations of the deceased bury the whole of the remains, with

the exception of the skull, which they place on the ground, forming

circles of a hundred or more, all with the faces looking inward, and

all resting on fresh bunches of herbs. In the centre of each circle is

a little mound, on which are placed the skulls of a male and female

bison, and on the mound is planted a long pole, on which hang sundry

“medicine” articles, which are supposed to aid in guarding the remains

of the dead.

No people are more fond of swimming than the Indians, the youth of

both sexes learning the art at a very early age. Such knowledge is

indispensable to them, especially liable as they are to accidents with

their light canoes, and in their marches compelled to cross the widest

rivers. The squaws will fasten their children to their backs, and

easily cross any river that lies in their way.

The Indian mode of swimming, however, is quite different from ours.

They do not make a horizontal stroke outward from the chin, but throw

the body alternately from one side to the other, and raising one arm

out of the water, reach as far forward as possible, while the other arm

having made the same motion, goes down and becomes a propelling power.

And this, though an apparently awkward, is yet a most effective mode of

swimming, and less likely to be attended with injury to the chest, or

with fatigue.

* * * * *

The relatives constantly visit the skull circles, and the women may

often be seen sitting by the skulls of their dead children for hours

together, going on with their work, and talking to the dead skull as

if it were a living child. And, when tired, they will lie down with

their arms encircling the skull, and sleep there as if in company with

the child itself. The Sioux and many other tribes lodge their dead in

the branches or crotches of trees, enveloped in skins, and always with

a wooden dish hanging near the head of the corpse, for the purpose,

doubtless, to enable it to quench its thirst on the long journey they

suppose awaits it after death. The Chinnooks place them in canoes,

which, together with the warrior’s utensils accompanying the dead, are

so shattered as to be useless.

The most singular funeral of which a record has been preserved was that

of Blackbird, an Omaha chief. The artist has reproduced the strange

scene on page 1341.

Upon the bank of the Missouri, and in the district over which he

ruled, there is a lofty bluff, the top of which can be seen for a vast

distance on every side. When the chief found that he was dying, he

ordered that he should be placed on the back of his favorite war horse,

and buried on the top of the bluff.

The request was carried out to the letter. On the appointed day, the

whole tribe, together with a vast concourse of spectators, repaired to

the bluff, leaving an open space in the middle, where the chief was to

be buried.

Presently, the body of the dead chief was borne up the sides of the

bluff, and after him was led his war horse, a noble milk-white steed

which he had valued exceedingly. When the funeral procession reached

the top of the bluff, the dead chief was clothed in full panoply of

war, the feather plumes on his head, the strung bow, quiver, arrows,

shield, and medicine bag slung on his back, his scalps, which no other

man might take, hung to his horse’s bridle and to his weapons, and his

favorite spear in his hand. He was also furnished with food and drink,

to sustain him in his passage to the spirit land, and with his pipe and

filled tobacco pouch, flint, and steel, so that he might solace himself

with the luxury of smoking.

This done, he was mounted on the back of his horse, and all the chiefs

advanced in their turn to make their farewell speeches to their dead

leader. Each, after delivering his address, rubbed his right hand with

vermilion, pressed it against the white coat of the horse, and left

there the scarlet imprint of his hand. Then began the burial. The

warriors brought in their hands pieces of turf, and with them began to

raise a huge mound, in the middle of which the chief and his horse were

to be enclosed. One by one they placed their turves around the feet of

the devoted horse, and so, by degrees, they built the mound over the

animal while yet alive.

The mound, when completed, rose high above the head of the chief thus

strangely buried in its centre, and there he and his horse were left

to decay together. On the top of the mound a cedar post was erected;

and this mound has been, ever since it was built, a familiar landmark

to all the surrounding country. This green, flower spotted mound is

visited by great numbers of travellers, both white and red. The former

ascend the bluff partly out of curiosity to see so strange a tomb, and

partly for the sake of the magnificent view from its summit, while

the latter visit it for the sake of paying their respects at the

burial-place of one of their most renowned chiefs and greatest medicine

men.

The custom of burying wives and other victims with the deceased husband

seems now to be extinct among the North American tribes, but such an

event has happened within comparatively late years. There was a Nachez

chief, called the Stung Serpent, who died; and as he was the head

chief of the tribe, a considerable number of victims were devoted for

sacrifice. The French, however, remonstrated, and induced the friends

of the dead chief to limit the number to eight or ten. Among them was

a beautiful girl, who, though not his wife, had loved him greatly, and

desired to share his grave.

On the day appointed a procession was formed, in which the victims were

led in great state, accompanied by eight relatives of the deceased, who

were to act as executioners, and who bore the fatal cord, the deer-skin

which was thrown over the head of the victim, the tobacco pills

which were to be taken before the ceremony, and the other implements

required. When they were all placed at the grave, the chief wife made a

speech, in which she took leave of her children; and the victims, after

being strangled, were deposited in the grave.

* * * * *

As the object of this work is to present the manners and customs

of tribes and races in their primitive state, and not those

semi-civilized, it will be enough to merely introduce the names of

the Cherokees, Choctaws, Creeks, Chickasaws, Senecas, Delawares, etc.

Nor is it necessary to consider those, now extinct, that occupied

the country when first settled by white men. For the same general

characteristics, now presented, pertain to all the North American

races. The Indian tribes are rapidly retreating or vanishing before the

steady, irresistible march of civilization, and the growing grandeur

of the great Republic in North America. The line, where the echoes

of the Indian’s yell blends with the shout of advancing pioneers and

the sound of the wood-chopper’s axe, is continually moving westward.

In a few years we have seen it pass from the Mississippi River, to

the base of the Rocky Mountains. The settler’s cabin is unceasingly

encroaching upon the wigwams of the Red Men. With sadness, having

smoothed the graves of their fathers, and taken a last look of their

hunting grounds, they retreat before a power which they vainly strive

to resist. Pressed backward in two centuries and a half, across

three-quarters of the continent, from Massachusetts Bay almost to the

Pacific, except a few decaying remnants of tribes, their history and

doom cannot but awaken sympathy for an unfortunate and overpowered race.

Even though we do not form our estimate of the Indian from the romantic

creations of Cooper, every right-thinking person will accord them the

tribute of many qualities that constitute a real grandeur of character.

Their marvellous bravery, their ardent rage, their steadfast, fiery

enthusiasm in the fight or in the chase, their manly sports, their

grave, philosophic demeanor in the council, their stern, stoical

endurance in misfortune, their disdain of death, are traits that have

given to the Indian a character unique and noble, a character and

history that the annalist, poet, and novelist, have transferred to

their immortal pages, and over which multitudes of old and young alike

have bent with eager, breathless interest. As Mr. Mangin in his “Desert

World” says:--“There was poetry in their faith, in their customs, in

their language, at once laconic and picturesque--and even in the names

they bestowed on each tribe, each chief and warrior, on mountain and

river. One can hardly suppress a feeling of regret that so much of wild

romance and valor should have been swept from the face of the earth,

unless we call to mind the shadow of the picture--the Indian’s cruelty,

perfidiousness and savage lust. Even then, our humanity revolts from

the treatment to which he has been subjected by the white man.” Tracked

and hunted like wild beasts, driven from their hunting grounds and the

territory of their ancestors, imbruted by drink, decimated and dying by

epidemics and vices contracted from white men, the poor Indians vainly

struggling to avert their doom of extermination have elicited the

sympathy and commiseration of the civilized world. The theory advocated

in the preceding part of this work, (see page 790), in regard to the

decay and extinction of savage races, does not forbid regrets that such

a people should have suffered so grievously at the hands of the United

States Government, by the greed of its agents, the frauds of traders

and the fatal contagion of the vices of a civilized people. What with

American rifles and American whiskey, their extinction has been rapid,

and their doom certain.

These tribes, contending in a most unequal strife with the forces

of modern civilization, more readily falling victims to the vices

of white men than accepting their virtues, are entitled to the just

consideration and protection of the government, as its wards, from

whom, or their ancestors, have been taken their soil and their homes.

It is gratifying to know that a more humane policy is about being

inaugurated, and though the wrongs of the past may not be redressed,

that their rights in future may be recognized and maintained.

Major-General Thomas, of the U. S. army, whose name and history are

the guarantee of candid and wise judgment, says, in respect to an

instance of cold-blooded, unprovoked, unpunished outrage upon an

Indian boy (it is given only as a representative fact of many more and

bitter wrongs):--“I see no better way than to extend civil authority

over the Indians and enable them to appear as witnesses in all cases

affecting their own status and that of the whites toward them. This is

a fair instance of the cause of the Indian troubles; and until white

murderers and robbers of the Indians are punished, a large force of

troops will be necessary to protect peaceful white settlers from Indian

avengers.” And Gen. Sherman, in whose opinion the utmost confidence

can be reposed, makes the following indorsement to General Thomas’

view:--“This case illustrates the origin of most of the Indian wars

on the frontier. A citizen may murder an Indian with impunity, but if

the Indian retaliate, war results, and the United States must bear the

expense.”

Here we have the secret of many of the barbarities of the Indian

tribes. Inflamed and imbruted by the whiskey sold them, their ignorance

imposed upon by the greed of traders and even government agents, having

little or no chance for securing justice in their real or imagined

injuries, there is certainly some extenuation if this wild son of the

forest go forth with tomahawk and scalping knife, as the self-appointed

avenger of his own and his people’s wrongs. This is not the place, if

there were room, for a thorough discussion of the wrongs of the Red

Men, but I cannot forego the duty, in treating of the manners, customs

and character of tribes so interesting, so noble and superior, by many

traits, to most savage races, of recording at the same time, this

tribute and testimony. It will unquestionably be the verdict of the

future, as coming generations shall study the memorials and character

of the North American Indians.[1]

[1] These reflections, with much relating to the customs of the

Indians, have been introduced into the work by the American editor.

CHAPTER CXL.

THE ESQUIMAUX.

APPEARANCE--DRESS--DWELLINGS.

APPEARANCE OF THE PEOPLE -- THEIR COMPLEXION, AND DIFFICULTY OF

SEEING IT -- AN ESQUIMAUX CHILD WASHED AND COMBED -- BODILY STRENGTH

-- DRESS OF THE MEN -- THE TAILED COAT -- “MILLING” BOOTS -- DRESS

OF THE WOMEN -- THE LARGE HOOD AND BOOTS -- THE TATTOO, AND MODE OF

PERFORMING IT -- HAIR-DRESSING -- PREPARING SKINS -- THE SNOW HOUSES,

AND MODE OF BUILDING THEM -- CAPTAIN LYON’S DESCRIPTION -- INTERNAL

ARRANGEMENTS OF THE HUT -- ICE AND BONE HOUSES -- THE TUPIC, OR

SUMMER DWELLING -- FOOD OF THE ESQUIMAUX -- A WISE TRAVELLER.

We now come to those extraordinary people, called by Europeans the

ESQUIMAUX (their own name being Innuit), who, placed amid perpetual

ice and snow, have bent those elements to their own purposes, and

pass as happy lives in their inclement country as do the apparently

more favored inhabitants of the tropics amid their perpetual verdure.

Indeed, the Esquimaux has a perfect yearning for his beloved country,

should he be away from it. Captain Hall relates the circumstances

attendant upon the “death of Kudlago, a singularly intelligent man,

who had visited the United States, and fully learned to appreciate

the advantages of the high civilization which he saw there. But all

his wishes were for home, and he was taken back. As the ship neared

his native land, he fell ill and died, his last words being the eager

inquiry, ‘Do you see ice? Do you see ice?’”

* * * * *

In appearance, the Esquimaux are a peculiar people. Their stature is

short, when compared to that of an ordinary European, the average being

about five feet three inches for the men, and two or three inches less

for the women.

The complexion is in some cases rather dark, but, as a rule, is not

much darker than that of the inhabitants of Southern Europe. It looks,

however, many shades darker, in consequence of the habits of the

Esquimaux, who never wash from their birth to their death. It is not

that they neglect their ablutions, but the very idea of washing never

enters the mind of an Esquimaux, who, unless he has met with white men,

has not even heard of such an operation. When, however, an Esquimaux

has been induced to allow his skin to be cleansed, he is found to lose

many shades of his original darkness. There is an amusing passage in

the journal of Captain Hall, given in his “Life with the Esquimaux,” a

work to which frequent reference will be made in the next few pages.

“Kimnaloo has just been Americanized. Captain B----’s good wife had

made and sent to her a pretty red dress, a necktie, mittens, belt, &c.

“Mr. Rogers and I, at a suggestion from me, thought it best to commence

the change of nationality with soap and water. The process was slow,

that of arriving at the beautiful little girl, whom we at length found,

though deeply imbedded layer after layer in dirt. Then came the task of

making her toilet. With a very coarse comb I commenced to disentangle

her hair. She had but little, the back part from behind her ears

having been cut short off on account of severe pains in her head. How

patiently she submitted to the worse than curry-comb process I had to

use! This was the first time in her life that a comb had been put to

her head. Her hair was filled with moss, seal and reindeer hairs, and

many other things, too numerous to call them all by name. Poor little

thing! Yet she was fat and beautiful, the very picture of health. Her

cheeks were as red as the blown rose; Nature’s vermilion was upon

them.”

The skin is smooth, soft, and yet wonderfully tough, with a sort of

unctuous surface, probably occasioned by the enormous amount of oil

and fat which forms the principal part of their diet. The features are

not very pleasing, the face being broad, and the cheek-bones so high

that in many cases, if a flat ruler were laid from cheek to cheek, it

would not touch the nose. As is the case with the Chinese section of

this vast race, the eyes slope rather downward, and the face is often

covered with wrinkles to a wonderful extent, extending from the eyes

down each cheek.

In bodily strength, the Esquimaux present a great contrast to the

Andamaners, who, though short, are possessed of gigantic muscular

powers. Captain Lyon found that the natives could not raise burdens

that were easily lifted by his sailors, whereas an ordinary Andamaner

is often a match for two powerful sailors. The neck is strangely thin

and feeble, however well-proportioned the chest may be, and it is a

curious fact that the Esquimaux are almost wholly ignorant of running

and jumping. There is but little beard, and the hair is black, coarse,

straight, and lanky.

The general character of the dress is alike in both sexes, so that

at a little distance it is not easy to tell whether the spectator be

looking at a man or a woman, both sexes wearing trousers, and jackets

with a large hood, which can either be drawn over the head or allowed

to fall on the shoulders. The jacket of the man is made something like

a broad-tailed dress coat, hanging behind as far as the middle of the

calf, and cut away in front just below the waist. It is mostly made of

deer-hide, and the hood is lined and turned up with white fur, which

forms a curious contrast to the dark, broad face within it. The edge of

the coat is generally bordered with a lighter-colored fur, and is often

decorated with little strips of fur hanging like tassels.

Under this coat is another of similar shape, but of lighter material,

and having the furry side turned inward. The legs are clothed in

two pairs of trousers, the outer pair being often made of strips of

differently colored deer-skins arranged in parallel stripes, and having

the fur outward, while the other has the fur inward, as is the case

with the coats. They only come as low as the knee, so that the joint

is often frost-bitten; but nothing can induce the Esquimaux to outrage

fashion by adding a couple of inches to the garment.

The boots are made of the same materials as the other parts of the

dress. In winter time the Esquimaux wear first a pair of boots with

the fur inward, then slippers of soft seal-skin so prepared as to be

waterproof, then another pair of boots, and, lastly, strong seal-skin

shoes. In the summer time one pair of boots is sufficient protection.

The soles are made of thicker material than the rest of the garment,

and it is the duty of the women to keep the soles flexible by chewing

or “milling” them, an operation which consumes a considerable part of

their time.

Mittens are made of various skins, the hairy side being inward; and if

the wearer be engaged in fishing, he uses mittens made of watertight

seal-skin. During the summer, light dresses are worn, made of the skins

of ducks, with the feathers inward. Over all there is sometimes a very

thin and light waterproof garment made of the intestines of the walrus.

The jackets worn by the women have a much longer and narrower tail

than those of the men, and a tolerably deep flap in front. The hood is

of enormous size, being used as a cradle as well as a hood, in which

a child of nearly three years old is carried. The trousers, or rather

leggings, are tied to a girdle that passes round the waist, and are

so cut away at the top, that they allow a portion of the skin to be

visible between them and the sides of the jacket, an exposure from

which the wearers do not seem to suffer. The oddest article of the

female apparel is, however, the boots, which more resemble sacks or

buckets than boots, and are simply tied to the girdle by a broad strap

that passes up the front of the leg. The boots are used as receptacles

for all kinds of portable property, food included, and in consequence

impart a most singular walk, or rather waddle, to the wearers, who are

obliged to keep their feet widely apart, and, as they walk, to swing

one foot round the other, rather than to use the ordinary mode of

walking.

The Esquimaux women use the tattoo, called by them the kakeen, and

in some places cover their limbs and a considerable portion of their

persons with various patterns. There are some who mark the forehead,

cheeks, and chin, these being mostly proof that the woman is married,

though they are sometimes worn by unmarried females. The mode in

which the kakeen is performed is amusingly told by Captain Lyon, who

courageously submitted to the operation.

“My curiosity determined me on seeing how the kakeen was performed,

and I accordingly put myself into the hands of Mrs. Kettle, whom I had

adopted as my amama, or mother.

“Having furnished her with a fine needle, she tore with her teeth a

thread off a deer’s sinew, and thus prepared the sewing apparatus.

She then, without a possibility of darkening her hands beyond their

standard color, passed her fingers under the bottom of the stove pot,

from whence she collected a quantity of soot. With this, together with

a little oil and much saliva, she soon made a good mixture, and taking

a small piece of whalebone well blackened, she then drew a variety of

figures about my arm, differing, as I easily saw, from those with which

she herself was marked; and, calling her housemates, they all enjoyed a

good laugh at the figures, which perhaps conveyed some meaning that I

could not fathom.

“I had, however, only determined on a few strokes, so that her trouble

was in some measure thrown away. She commenced her work by blackening

the thread with soot, and taking a pretty deep but short stitch in my

skin, carefully pressing her thumb on the wound as the thread passed

through it, and beginning each stitch at the place where the last had

ceased. My flesh being tough, she got on but slowly, and, having broken

one needle in trying to force it through, I thought fit, when she had

completed forty stitches, or about two inches, to allow her to desist;

then, rubbing the part with oil in order to stanch the little blood

which appeared, she finished the operation. I could now form an idea of

the price paid by the Esquimaux females for their embellishments, which

for a time occasion a slight inflammation and some degree of pain. The

color which the kakeen assumes when the skin heals is of the same light

blue as we see on the marked arms of seamen.”

The dress of the children is alike in both sexes. None at all is worn

until the infant is nearly three years old, up to which age it is

kept naked in its mother’s hood. A dress is then made of fawn skin,

having the jacket, trousers, boots, and hood in one piece, the only

opening being at the back. Into this odd dress the child is put, and

the opening being tied up with a string, the operation of dressing

is completed. The hood or cap is generally made in the shape of the

fawn’s head, so that the little Esquimaux has the strangest appearance

imaginable, and scarcely looks like a human being.

As to the hair, the men cut it short over the forehead, and allow the

side locks to grow to their full length, tying them, when very long,

over the top of the head in a large knot projecting over the forehead.

The women part the hair in the middle, and make it into two large

tails. A piece of bone or wood is introduced into each of the tails

by way of a stiffener, and they are then bound spirally with a narrow

strip of deer-hide, with the fur outward. Those women who can afford

such a luxury pass the hair through two brass rings, which are then

pressed as closely as possible to the head.

The whole of the operations of preparing the skin and making the

clothes are done by the women, the men having completed their task when

they have killed the animals. The fat, blood, and oil are first sucked

from the skins, and the women then scrape the inner surface with an

ingenious instrument, sometimes furnished with teeth, and at other

times plain, like blunt knives. The skins are then rubbed and kneaded,

and are dried by being stretched by pegs to the ground in summer, and

laced over a hoop in winter and exposed to the heat of the lamp, which

constitutes the only fire of the Esquimaux.

Bird skins are prepared in a somewhat similar fashion, and are stripped

from the bodies of the birds in a marvellously expeditious manner.

With their knife, which exactly resembles a cheese cutter, they make

an incision round the head and round the outer joint of each wing. The

cut part is then seized between the teeth, and with a pull and a jerk

the skin comes off in one piece, and turned inside out. These skins are

considered a great luxury by the Esquimaux, who bite and suck off the

fat which adheres liberally to them.

* * * * *

In a country where the thermometer remains many degrees below zero for

many months together, and in which ice and snow are the prevailing

features, it is evident that houses cannot be built after the fashion

of those in most countries. No trees can grow there, so that wooden

houses are out of the question, and in a land where ice has been known

to choke up the iron flue of a stove always kept burning neither clay

could be made into bricks, nor stones cemented with mortar. There is

only one substance of which houses can be made, and this is frozen

water, either in the form of snow or ice, the former being the usual

material. These snow houses, called igloos, are made in a dome-like

shape, and are built with a rapidity that is perfectly astonishing. The

reader will find the form and mode of building these houses illustrated

on page 1327.

The general appearance of these strange houses is thus described

by Captain Lyon, in his “Private Journal.” “Our astonishment was

unbounded, when, after creeping through some long passages of snow, to

enter the different dwellings, we found ourselves in a cluster of dome

shaped edifices, entirely constructed of snow, which, from their recent

erection, had not been sullied by the smoke of the numerous lamps that

were burning, but admitted the light in most delicate hues of verdigris

green and blue, according to the thickness of the slab through which

it passed.... There were five clusters of huts, some having one, some

two, and others three domes, in which thirteen families lived, each

occupying a dome or one side of it, according to their strength. The

whole number of people were twenty-one men, twenty-five women, and

eighteen children, making a total of sixty-four.

“The entrance to the building was by a hole about a yard in diameter,

which led through a low arched passage of sufficient breadth for two to

pass in a stooping posture, and about sixteen feet in length; another

hole then presented itself, and led through a similarly shaped but

shorter passage, having at its termination a round opening about two

feet across. Up this hole we crept one step, and found ourselves in a

dome about seven feet in height, and as many in diameter, from whence

the three dwelling-places with arched roofs were entered. It must be

observed that this is the description of a large hut; the smaller ones,

containing one or two families, have the domes somewhat differently

arranged.

“Each dwelling might be averaged at fourteen or sixteen feet in

diameter, by six or seven in height; but as snow alone was used in

their construction, and was always at hand, it might be supposed that

there was no particular size, that being of course at the option of the

builder. The laying of the arch was performed in such a manner as would

have satisfied the most regular artist, the key piece on the top being

a large square slab. The blocks of snow used in the buildings were from

four to six inches in thickness, and about a couple of feet in length,

carefully pared with a large knife. Where two families occupied a dome,

a seat was raised either side two feet in height. These raised places

were used as beds, and covered, in the first place, with whalebone,

sprigs of Andromeda, or pieces of seal-skin; over these were spread

deer-pelts and deer-skin clothes, which had a very warm appearance. The

pelts were used as blankets, and many of them had ornamental fringes of

leather sewed round their edges.

“Each dwelling-place was illuminated by a broad piece of transparent

fresh-water ice, of about two feet in diameter, which formed part of

the roof, and was placed over the door. These windows gave a most

pleasing light, free from glare, and something like that which is

thrown through ground glass. We soon learned that the building of a

house was but the work of an hour or two, and that a couple of men--one

to cut the slabs and another to lay them--were sufficient laborers.

“For the support of the lamps and cooking apparatus a mound of snow is

erected for each family; and when the master has two wives or a mother,

both have an independent place, one at each end of the bench.”

In the middle of the hut is erected a slight scaffold, which supports

a rudely made net, and under the net is placed the one essential piece

of furniture of the house, namely, the lamp. This is a very simple

contrivance. It is merely an oval shaped dish of stone, round the edge

of which is arranged a long wick made of moss. Oil is poured into it,

and a quantity of blubber is heaped in the centre of the lamp, so as

to keep up the supply. Over the lamp is hung the cooking pot, the size

of each being proportioned to the rank of the possessor. It sometimes

happens that two wives occupy the same hut. In this case, the chief or

“igloo-wife” has the large lamp and the supporting scaffold, while the

other has to content herself with a little lamp and a small pot, which

she must support as she can.

The value of the lamp is simply incalculable, not so much for its use

in cooking, as the Esquimaux like meat raw quite as well as cooked, but

for its supply of warmth, for the water which is obtained by melting

snow over it, and for its use in drying clothes. All garments, the snow

being first beaten off them, are placed on the “dry-net” over the lamp,

where they are gradually dried, and, after being chewed by the women,

are fit for wear again: otherwise they become frozen quite hard, and

are of no more use than if they were made of ice. Oil is supplied by

chewing blubber, and the women, who always perform the task, have the

curious knack of expressing the oil without allowing a drop of moisture

to mix with it. In one minute a woman can obtain enough oil to fill a

lamp two feet in length.

Sometimes, when snow is scarce, the igloo is made of ice. The walls

are formed of this material, and are generally of an octagonal form,

the ice slabs being cemented together with snow. The domed roof is

usually made of snow, but the tunnel, or passage to the interior, is

of ice. Such a house is, when first made, so transparent that, even at

the distance of some paces, those who are within it can be recognized

through its walls.

It may seem strange that such materials as snow and ice should be

employed in the construction of man’s dwelling-place, as nothing seems

more opposed to comfort; yet these houses, instead of being cold, are

so warm that the inhabitants throw off the greater part, and sometimes

the whole, of their clothes when within them; and the bed of snow on

which they recline is, when covered with the proper amount of skins,

even warmer than an European feather bed. In the summer time the

Esquimaux prefer the skin hut, or “tupic.” This is a mere tent made of

deer-skins thrown over a few sticks, though the supports are sometimes

formed from the bones of whales.

* * * * *

The food of the Esquimaux is almost wholly of an animal character. In

the first place, the country supplies scarcely any vegetation; and, in

the next place, an abundant supply of animal food is required in order

to enable the inhabitants to withstand the intense cold. The seal and

the reindeer form their favorite food, and in both cases the fat is the

part that is most highly valued.

In the reindeer, the fat of the hinder quarters, called by the

Esquimaux “toodnoo,” is the portion that is most valued. Captain Hall,

who very wisely lived as the Esquimaux while staying with them, says

that it is as much superior to butter as is the best butter to lard;

and when the deer is in good condition, the meat is so tender that a

steak almost falls to pieces if lifted by its edge. Another part of the

reindeer is almost as valuable as the fat. This is the contents of the

deer’s paunch, eaten raw with slices of raw venison. It has a slightly

acid flavor, like that of sorrel, and if the consumer were not to know

what he was eating, he would be delighted with it.

This was the case with Captain Hall, while partaking of a deer feast

in an igloo. He tried the deer flesh, and found it excellent; he then

took a morsel of the unknown substance, and describes it as ambrosial.

After eating the greater part of it, he took it to the light, and was

horrified to find the nature of the feast. However, he soon came to the

wise conclusion that epicurism of any kind was nothing but the effect

of education, and that, in consequence, he would ignore his previous

prejudices on the subject, and eat whatever the Esquimaux ate, and as

they ate it. As to the quantity consumed, neither he nor any other

white man would be a match for an Esquimaux, who will consume nine or

ten pounds of meat at a sitting, and lie leisurely on his back, being

fed by his wife with pieces of blubber when he is utterly unable to

help himself. An Esquimaux finds a sort of intoxicating effect in utter

repletion, which stands him in the stead of fermented liquors.

Putting aside the gourmandizing propensity of the Esquimaux, Captain

Hall found that if he were to live with them, as he intended to do, he

must sooner or later come to the same diet. He determined in making

a bold plunge, and eating whatever he saw them eat. At first it was

rather repugnant to his feelings to eat a piece of raw meat that had

been carefully licked by a woman, in order to free it from hairs and

other extraneous matters. But he reflected that, if he had not known

of the licking, he would not have discovered it from the flavor of the

meat, and he very wisely ignored the mode in which it had been cleaned.

Similarly, fresh seal’s blood just drawn from the animal seemed rather

a strange kind of soup, and the still warm entrails a remarkable sort

of after-dinner delicacy. But finding that the Esquimaux considered

them both as very great dainties, he tried them, and pronounced that

the Esquimaux were perfectly right, and that his preconceived ideas

were entirely wrong.

[Illustration: 1 2 4

3 FRONT OF HEAD LARGER

LOOSE

FAST

HARPOON HEAD. (From my collection.) (See page 1340)]

CHAPTER CXLI.

THE ESQUIMAUX--_Continued_.

HUNTING--RELIGION--BURIAL.

MODES OF HUNTING -- SEAL HUNTING IN THE SNOW -- THE INFANT DECOY --

THE SEAL’S IGLOO -- AN IVORY FLOAT -- SEAL “TALK” -- THE HARPOONS AND

SPEARS -- SPEARING THE WALRUS -- THE ICE RAFT -- THE BOW AND ARROWS

AND WRIST GUARD -- DEER HUNTING -- GROUSE SHOOTING -- THE WOLF AND

FOX TRAPS -- THE BIRD SLING -- BEAR HUNTING -- THE MEN’S AND WOMEN’S

BOATS -- CONSTRUCTION OF THE KIA, AND MODE OF USING IT -- AQUATIC

FEATS -- THE WOMEN’S BOAT AND ITS USES -- THE SLEDGE -- THE VARIOUS

RUNNERS -- SLEDGE DOGS AND THEIR TRAINING -- EXAMPLES OF THEIR

CLEVERNESS -- BARBEKARK AND THE CAPELINS -- MARRIAGE AND EDUCATION

OF CHILDREN -- GAMES AND DANCING -- RELIGION -- THE ANGEKO AND HIS

MYSTERIES -- “IN VINO VERITAS” -- HONESTY -- HOSPITALITY -- DISPOSAL

OF THE DEAD.

Depending wholly upon the products of the chase for their food, the

Esquimaux are most accomplished hunters, and in their peculiar way are

simply unequalled by any other people on earth. Take, for example,

their mode of seal catching. The reader is doubtless aware that the

seal, being a mammal, breathes atmospheric air, and that in consequence

it cannot remain very long under water, but is obliged to come up at

certain intervals for the purpose of breathing. When it dives under the

ice, it would therefore be drowned did it not form for itself certain

breathing holes in the ice. These are very small, not more than an

inch and a half, or at the most two inches, in diameter, and do not

penetrate through the coating of snow that lies on the ice.

The hunter’s dog, which is specially trained for this purpose, detects

the breathing hole, and the master then reverses his harpoon, which has

a long, spindle shaped butt, and thrusts it through the snow in search

of the concealed hole, which often lies under some two feet of snow.

When he has found it, he seats himself by the hole, with his harpoon

ready; and there he will sit until he hears the blowing sound of the

seal, when he drives the harpoon into the hole, and invariably secures

his prey. This is the more difficult, as, if the stroke be wrong by

even a quarter of an inch, the seal will not be struck, and the man is

often wearied with waiting and need of sleep.

The patience with which the Esquimaux hunter will watch a seal hole

far surpasses that of a cat at a mouse hole. Captain Hall mentions one

case, where an Esquimaux, a notable seal hunter, actually sat watching

a seal hole for two and a half days and two nights without either sleep

or food. Considering the nature of the climate, such a feat as this

is almost incredible. The poor man, after all his trouble, failed to

secure the seal, but was not disheartened, and, after taking some food,

went off again to the seal hole to renew his watch.

Some of the Esquimaux seal hunters use a singularly ingenious

instrument for enabling them to detect the approach of the animal. It

consists of a very slender ivory rod, about twelve inches in length,

pointed at one end, and having a round knob at the other. It is about

as thick as a crow quill. When the hunter has found a seal hole, he

ties to the upper end a very fine thread made of sinew, and lowers it

into the seal hole, where it is allowed to dangle by the thread. When

the seal comes to breathe, it takes no notice of so small an object,

but rises as usual for air, pushing the little rod before it. As soon

as the hunter sees the rod rise, he knows that the seal is there, and

drives his spear down the hole. Even a larger float--if we may so

call it--might be unseen by the seal, but it would interfere with the

passage of the spear.

There is another mode of catching seals, in which the young acts as

a decoy for its mother. The seal, when she is about to produce her

young, scratches away the ice until she comes to the snow, which lies

deep upon it. She then scratches away a quantity of the snow until

she has made a dome-like chamber, in form exactly like the snow hut

of the Esquimaux. The tunnel through the ice is just large enough to

allow the passage of the seal, while the chamber is about five feet in

diameter, so that a tolerably large platform of ice is left, on which

the creature can rest. Here its young is produced, and here it remains

until the sun melts away the snow covering of the chamber, or igloo, as

it is called, by which time the young animal is able to take care of

itself.

At the proper season, the Esquimaux set off in search of these seal

igloos, and when they are detected by the dogs, the hunter flings

himself on the snow, thus beating down the roof of the igloo. He then

thrusts his sealing hook into the igloo, and drags out the young seal.

It is remarkable, by the way, that the polar bear acts in precisely the

same manner, crushing down the walls of the igloo, and dragging out the

young one with its paws.

When the Esquimaux has secured the young seal, he ties a long line to

one of the hind flippers, and allows it to slip into the sea through

the tunnel, while he creeps into the igloo with his hook, in hopes of

catching the mother as she comes to help her young one. The Esquimaux

always kill young seals by putting the foot on their shoulders, and

pressing firmly down, so as to suffocate it. This is done for the

purpose of preserving the blood.

Sometimes the seal hunter actually stalks the wary animal on the ice.

The seal has a strange way of sleeping when lying on the ice. It takes

short naps of only a few seconds’ duration, and between them raises its

head and looks round to see if any enemy be approaching. The Esquimaux

takes advantage of this habit, and, lying down on the ice, he waits for

these short naps, and hitches himself along the ice toward the animal,

looking himself very much like a seal as he lies on the ice, covered

with seal skin garments. Whenever the seal raises its head, the hunter

stops, begins to paw with his hands, and utters a curious droning

monologue, which is called “seal talk,” and is supposed to act as a

charm. Certain it is, that the seal appears to be quite gratified by

the talk, is put off its guard, and allows the hunter to approach near

enough to make the fatal stroke.

The same kind of “talk” is used when the sealer goes out in his boat,

and some of the hunters are celebrated for the magical power of their

song. In seal hunting from a boat, a different kind of harpoon is

employed. It is longer and slighter than that which is used for ice

hunting, and is furnished with a float made of a leathern bag inflated

with air. This is fastened to the shaft, and just below it one end of

the harpoon line is secured, the other end being made fast to the head

of the weapon.

When the seal is struck, the shaft is shaken from the head, so that

there is no danger of its working the weapon out of the seal by its

leverage, and it acts as a drag, impeding the movements of the animal,

so that the hunter is able to overtake it in his boat, and to pierce it

with another harpoon. When the seal is dead, the float serves another

purpose. Seals, when killed in the water, almost invariably sink so

rapidly that they cannot be secured. The float, however, remains at the

surface, so that the successful hunter has only to paddle to it, take

it into the canoe, and haul the seal on board. Perhaps the most curious

part of the business lies in the skill with which the hunter carries

the seal home. The boat in which he sits is entirely covered with skin,

except a small aperture which admits his body, and yet he lays the body

of the seal upon this slight platform, and manages to balance it as he

paddles homeward, regardless of the waves upon which his light little

canoe trembles like a cork.

Of these boats we shall presently see something, and will now merely

look at the weapons which are employed by the Esquimaux in hunting.

It is worthy of remark that war is totally unknown among the Esquimaux,

who are perhaps the only people in the world who possess no war

weapons, and have no desire to do so. Generally, when a savage obtains

for the first time possession of fire-arms, he uses them in warfare,

and by the superiority of his weapons raises himself to eminence. The

Esquimaux cares for none of these things. He is essentially a family

man, and when he is fortunate enough to procure a musket, he simply

uses it for hunting purposes, never wasting the precious powder and

lead upon the bodies of his fellow-men. Of fame he is totally ignorant,

except that sort of local fame which is earned by skill in hunting. He

finds that all his energies are required to procure food and clothing

for his household, and therefore he does not expend them upon any other

object.

The weapon which is to the Esquimaux what the rifle is to the

backwoodsman, the boomerang to the Australian, the sword to the

Agageer, the lasso to the South American, and the sumpitan to the

Dyak, is the harpoon, a weapon which undergoes various modifications,

according to the use to which it is put, but is essentially the same in

principle throughout.

The first example is the typical harpoon. It consists of a long wooden

shaft, with a float attached to it, as has already been described on

page 1339. Owing to the great scarcity of wood in Esquimaux land, the

greater part being obtained from the casual drift-wood that floats

ashore from wrecks, such a weapon is exceedingly valuable. The shaft is

generally made of a number of pieces of wood lashed together in a most

ingenious fashion.

The barbed head is but loosely fitted to the shaft, a hole in the base

of the head receiving a point at the end of the shaft. It is held in

its place by leathern thongs, so arranged that, as soon as the wounded

animal darts away, the shaft is shaken from the head. The arrangement

of the leathern thongs varies according to the kind of weapon. The

illustration on page 1337, shows the head of the harpoon which is used

for spearing the walrus.

It is about nine inches in length, and is made of ivory, either that of

the walrus or the narwhal, probably the former, as it partakes of the

curve of the walrus tooth. It consists of two pieces, which we call,

for convenience’ sake the body and the head. The upper part of the

body is slightly pointed and rounded, and is meant to be fixed to the

shaft of the harpoon. About an inch and a half from the end two holes

are bored, through which is passed a double thong of leather about as

thick as a goose quill. Next comes the head, which is a triangular and

deeply barbed piece of ivory, armed with a thin, flat plate of iron,

almost exactly like the armature of the Bosjesman’s war arrow. Through

this head is bored a hole, and through the hole passes the loop of the

double thong already mentioned. At the butt of the head there is a

hole, into which is fitted the conical termination of the body.

By reference to the illustration, the reader will easily comprehend the

arrangement. Fig. 1 shows the entire instrument, the head fitted on the

body, and held in its place by the double thong. Fig. 2 shows the head

disjointed from the body. The reader will now see what a perfect barb

this instrument forms. When the harpoon is hurled at the walrus, the

head penetrates through the tough skin, and, becoming disjointed from

the body, sets at right angles across the little wound which it made

on entering, and effectually prevents the weapon from being withdrawn.

Fig. 3 shows the upper view of the head, and fig. 4 shows the hole at

its base, into which the conical end of the body is loosely fitted.

The line attached to the shaft of this harpoon is very long and of

great strength, and, when the hunter goes out to catch walrus, is

coiled round and round his neck in many folds, very slightly tied

together so as to prevent the successive coils from being entangled

with one another. When the hunter launches his harpoon with the right

hand, he with the left hand simultaneously jerks the coils of rope off

his neck, and throws them after the harpoon. The jerk snaps the slight

ligatures, and the animal is “played” like a salmon by an angler, until

it is utterly wearied with pain, loss of blood, and its struggles to

escape, and can be brought near enough to receive the fatal wound from

a spear.

Casting off the rope in exact time is a most important business, as

several hunters who have failed to do so have been caught in the coils

of the rope, dragged under the ice, and there drowned. On the end

of the harpoon line is worked a loop, and, as soon as the weapon is

hurled, the hunter drives a spear deeply into the ice, slips the loop

over it, and allows the walrus to struggle against the elastic rope

until it is quite tired. He then hauls up the line until he has brought

the animal to the ice, snatches up his spear, and with it inflicts a

mortal wound. On the next page the reader may find an illustration

showing the Esquimaux in his usual dress, and engaged in walrus hunting.

One mode of employing this harpoon against the walrus is singularly

ingenious. When the Esquimaux hunters see a number of the animals

sleeping on a sheet of ice, they look out for an ice fragment small

enough to be moved, and yet large enough to support several men.

Paddling to the ice, they lift their canoes upon it, bore holes in it,

and make their harpoon lines fast to the holes. They then gently paddle

the whole piece of ice, men, canoes, and all, to the spot where are

lying the drowsy animals, who do not suspect any danger from a piece of

ice floating by.

Having made their selection, the hunters tell off two men to each

walrus, and, at a given signal, all the harpoons are hurled. The whole

herd instantly roll themselves into the sea, the wounded animals being

attached to the piece of ice by the harpoon lines. The hunters allow

them to tow their ice craft about until they are exhausted, when they

launch their canoes, and kill the animals with their spears. As soon

as the walrus is dead, the hunters plug up the holes with little pegs

of ivory, for the purpose of preserving the blood, which is so highly

valued by the Esquimaux.

The Esquimaux have another kind of spear. The shaft is made of wood,

but the point and the barbed projections are of ivory. This spear is

chiefly used for catching fish, and is flung by means of a throwing

stick, almost in the same manner as the spears of the Australians. The

throwing stick is made of wood, flattish, and near one end has a hole,

into which the butt of the spear is passed. This is altogether a much

slighter and lighter weapon than that which has been described.

[Illustration: (1.) BURIAL OF BLACKBIRD. (See page 1330.)]

[Illustration: (2.) SPEARING THE WALRUS. (See page 1340.)]

Bows and arrows are also employed by the Esquimaux. The former are

made of horn, bone, or wood, and are almost always composed of several

pieces lashed firmly together. As is the case with the bows of the

North American tribes, the chief strength is obtained, not so much from

the material of the bow, as from a vast number of sinew strings which

run down its back. There are often a hundred or more of these sinews,

which are put on sufficiently tight to give the bow a slight curvature

against the string. The shape of the bow is rather peculiar. And though

the weapon is so powerful, it is seldom used at a greater distance than

twelve, or at most twenty yards. The length of the bow is on an average

three feet six inches.

The arrows are extremely variable. Some have wooden shafts tipped with

bone, but the shafts of the best specimens are half bone and half wood,

and the points are armed with a little piece of iron. The arrows are

contained in a quiver, and the bow is kept in a case. This quiver and

bow-case are generally made of seal skin, as being impervious to wet,

though they are frequently made of other materials. My own specimen

is formed from the hide of the reindeer. When the Esquimaux shoots,

he always holds his bow horizontally. The bow-string is made of some

fifteen or twenty sinew strings, which are loosely twisted, but not

made into a cord.

The bow and arrows are chiefly used in the capture of the reindeer and

in shooting rabbits, birds, and other small game. The mode of deer

hunting is very ingenious. When the hunter sees some deer feeding on

the level plain, he takes his bow and arrows, draws his hood well over

his head, and creeps as close as he can to the spot where the deer are

reposing. Here he begins to bellow in imitation of the cry with which

the deer call each other, and thus attracts the animals within the

short distance at which an Esquimaux archer shoots.

Even if he should not use the bellowing call, he has only to lie

patiently on the ground to be sure that, sooner or later, some of the

deer will come and look at him. They are most inquisitive animals, and

when they see any strange object, they cannot resist satisfying their

curiosity by inspecting it. Providing the object of their curiosity

does not move after them, they approach in a series of circles which

they gradually narrow, capering and tossing their heads capriciously,

and at last will come within a yard or two of the motionless hunter,

and so fall a victim to the arrow which he has already fitted to his

bow.

Sometimes the deer hunters adopt an ingenious ruse. Two of them walk

near the deer, and purposely show themselves. When the animals’

attention is fixed upon them, they walk slowly away, knowing that the

innate curiosity of the deer will induce them to follow. They direct

their course past some stone or similar object, when one of them

quickly steps behind it, while the other walks onward as before. The

deer do not notice that one of the men has disappeared, and so follow

the other, thus coming within a yard or two of the deadly arrow.

The arrow is also used for shooting birds, which are always killed when

sitting. The arctic grouse are killed in great numbers by the arrow.

They pack closely together, so that an arrow shot at random among them

can scarcely avoid hitting one of them; and the birds are so apathetic

that, when the missile falls among them, they only fly a few yards

further and then settle, so that the hunter can pick up his arrow and

shoot it at them again, until he has shot the greater number of the

covey.

In order to save the wrist from the recoil of the bow-string, the

Esquimaux wears a very ingenious guard, composed of several pieces

of bone tied together and fastened on the wrist by a bone button and

loop. The pieces of bone are about four inches in length. Below the

wrist-guard, which is shown on the 1353d page, some curiously formed

hooks are represented. No bait is required with them. They are simply

moved up and down in the water so as to attract the attention of the

fish, and then are jerked sharply upward, so as to catch the fish on

one of the projecting points. There are many varieties of this curious

hook, but those which are illustrated are the most characteristic.

There is also an instrument called the kakeeway, or little nippers,

which is used in a similar manner by the Esquimaux boys. They take a

model of a fish made of ivory, tie a string to it, and troll it about

in the water in order to attract the fish, when they are struck with

the kakeeway, and hauled out of the water. The artificial fish are

about three inches long, and are very neatly made, with eyes of iron

pyrites. This is a very slow process of fish catching, but the boys, to

whom time is of no object, are very fond of it, and will sit on their

heels all day for the chance of catching two or three little fish.

The foxes and wolves are generally taken in traps. There are several

kinds of traps, but they are mostly made on one or the other of two

principles. The usual trap is very like a common mouse trap, except

that it is made of ice instead of wood. It is so long and narrow that a

wolf cannot turn himself in it, but, if he wishes to retreat, must do

so backward. The door is a heavy slab of ice, which moves up and down

in two grooves. The door being raised, it is held in position by a line

which passes over the top of the trap, through a hole at the end, and

is then slightly hitched over a peg. A bait is then attached to the

end of the line, and when the wolf pulls it, the door is released, and

effectually secures the animal in the icy prison. A hole is then made

in the side of the trap, and the wolf is speared where he lies.

Foxes are also taken in these traps, but the usual kind of fox trap is

made on a different plan. It is built in a form somewhat resembling

a lime-kiln, and the aperture is covered with a piece of whalebone,

along which the animal must walk to get at the bait. As it steps on the

whalebone, the elastic material gives way, lets the fox into the trap,

and then resumes its former position, ready for another victim.

It has already been mentioned that birds are often shot with arrows as

they are sitting. The Esquimaux have a singular instrument by which

they can capture birds on the wing, provided that they do not fly at

any great height from the ground. It consists of seven or eight pieces

of bone or ivory, or stone, the latter being preferred on account of

its weight. To each of the weights is attached a sinew cord about

two feet six inches in length, and all the ends of the cords are

tied together, their junction being usually ornamented by a tuft of

feathers. When the Esquimaux sees a bird flying so that it will pass

tolerably near him, he whirls the sling round his head and flings it

at the bird. As it leaves his hand, all the weights fly apart, on

account of the rotatory motion which has been communicated to them,

so that the weapon covers a space of five feet. Should one of the

weights or strings strike the bird, the whole of the sling becomes

wrapped round it, and the bird falls helpless to the ground. The reader

will doubtless see that this sling is in fact a modification of the

Patagonian bolas.

In bear hunting the Esquimaux use either the walrus harpoon or the

spear, and often both. They set their dogs at the bear, and while he

is engaged in repelling their attacks, which are always made at his

back and hind-quarters, the hunter drives the harpoon at him, and

fastens the end of the line to the ice, so as to prevent the bear from

escaping. He then attacks the animal with another harpoon and with his

lance, and, avoiding skilfully the repeated attacks which the bear

makes upon him, drives the sharp weapon into the animal’s heart.

The Esquimaux are always very careful not to kill a young bear without

previously killing its mother. Should one of them, pressed by hunger,

commit so rash an act, the whole party to which he belongs are obliged

to take the strictest precautions lest they should be assailed by

the mother, who will assuredly follow on their track. They therefore

proceed for some five or six miles in a straight line, and then

suddenly turn off at right angles, so that the bear may overrun their

track as she presses eagerly forward. This manœuvre is several times

repeated. When the houses are reached, the weapons are laid ready for

use by the bedside, and the sledges are stuck upright outside the

house. This is intended by way of a warning to the sleepers. The bear

is suspicious about the erect sledge, and always knocks it down before

attacking the house, so that the noise of the falling sledge awakens

the sleepers, and puts them on their guard.

* * * * *

The two means of transport used by the Esquimaux are the boat and the

sledge, both of which deserve description.

There are two kinds of boats, those of the men and those used by women.

The man’s boat is called kajak or kia, according to the dialect of the

people, and is a very remarkable piece of workmanship. It is shuttle

shaped, both ends being sharply pointed. It is made of a very slight

framework of wood and whalebone, over which is stretched a covering of

skin. In the middle there is a hole just large enough to admit the body

of the rower, and when he takes his seat, he gathers his skin together

and ties it round his waist, so that the boat is absolutely impervious

to water. The average length is twenty-five feet, and so light are the

materials of which it is made, that a man can carry his kia on his head

from the house to the water.

These slight canoes have no keel, and sit so lightly on the water that

they can be propelled over, rather than through, it with wonderful

speed. The paddle is a double one, held in the middle, and used in a

manner which is now rendered familiar to us by the canoes which have so

largely taken the place of skiffs. It is between nine and ten feet in

length, small in the middle, which serves as a handle, and gradually

widening to the blades, which are about four inches in width, and edged

with ivory, not only for ornament but for strength.

The paddle acts much the same part as the balance pole to the

rope-dancer, and by its aid the Esquimaux canoe man can perform really

astonishing feats. For example, if two kias are out together, one of

them will remain still, the canoe man keeping his boat exactly in the

same place, by delicate management of his paddle. The other goes to a

distance at right angles to him, and then, urging his kia to the utmost

speed, drives it fairly over that of his friend. In performing this

remarkable feat, the skill of both is equally tried, for it is quite as

difficult to preserve the balance of the stationary kia as to drive the

other over it.

There is one feat which is sometimes performed in order to show the

wonderful command which an Esquimaux has over his little vessel. He

does not, however, attempt it unless another kia is close at hand.

After seeing that the skin cover is firmly tied round his waist, and

that his neck and wrists are well secured, the man suddenly flings

himself violently to one side, thus capsizing the kia, and burying

himself under water. With a powerful stroke of his paddle he turns

himself and canoe completely over, and brings himself upright again. A

skilful canoe man will thus turn over and over some twenty times or so,

almost as fast as the eye can follow him, and yet only his face will be

in the least wet.

In the illustration on page 1347 both these feats are shown.

The paddler is so tightly tied to the kia, that he is unable to change

his position without assistance, or even to lift a heavy weight, such

as a seal. In such a case, he asks assistance from a companion. The

two kias are placed near each other, and paddles are laid from one to

the other, so that for the time they are formed into a double canoe,

which cannot be upset. Small lines of whalebone are stretched across

the end of the kia, and under them are thrust the points of the spears

and harpoons, so that they cannot roll off the boat, and yet are always

ready to hand. An inflated seal’s bladder is always attached to the

canoe. When the kia is not in use, it is taken out of the water, and

rested in a reversed position upon the snow houses, as is seen on page

1327.

The second kind of boat is that which is called the oomiak, and is used

by the women. It is evident that the slight and fragile kia, useful

as it is for hunting purposes, cannot be employed for the conveyance

of baggage, or for the transport of more persons than one, and that

therefore some other kind of boat must be made. This is a large,

clumsy, straight sided, square ended, flat bottomed vessel, more like a

skin trough than a canoe, to which it bears about the same analogy as

a punt does to a racing skiff. The framework of the oomiak is made of

wood and whalebone, and the covering is of seal skin, from which the

hair has been removed. When wet, these skins are nearly transparent, so

that the forms of the persons sitting in the boat can be indistinctly

seen.

The sides of the boat are about three feet in height, and the weight

which a well-made oomiak will carry is really wonderful. Captain Lyon

mentions that in one of these boats, measuring twenty-five feet in

length by eight in width and three in depth, more than twenty human

beings were conveyed. There are two very clumsy paddles by which the

boat is slowly propelled, and it is steered by another paddle in the

stern. The post of steerer is usually occupied by an old man, who is

unable any more to manage the kia, but is still capable of guiding the

oomiak, and of flinging a knife, a harpoon, a seal hook, or anything

that may come to hand, at the women, if they neglect their paddling.

To each oomiak there can be attached a very primitive mast, with its

sail. The mast is but a short one, and is stepped in the fore-part of

the boat. Toward the top it is pierced, and in the hollow is placed a

sheave, or deeply grooved wheel of ivory, on which the halyards run.

The sail is that simplest of all sails, the lug, and is made of the

intestines of the walrus, split open so as to form strips of some four

inches in width. These strips are sewed together, and produce a sail

which is remarkable both for its strength and its extreme lightness.

The reader will doubtless have noticed the singular contrast between

the canoes of the hot and cold parts of the world. In the former, the

canoe and sails are entirely of vegetable materials, without a particle

of hide, sinew, or any animal product; while, in the latter, the animal

world furnishes almost the whole of the materials.

We now come to the sledge, which is quite as important to the Esquimaux

as the canoe. The materials and form of the sledge differ exceedingly,

so that in these respects no two sledges are alike, while the principle

is identical in all. A sledge is nothing more than two runners,

connected with each other by a number of cross-pieces, on which the

driver can sit and the goods be packed.

The best sledges are those in which the runners are made from the

jaw-bone of a whale, sawn into narrow planks and cut into the proper

shape. They are always shod with a strip of the same material. Others

are made of wood, shod with bone, and in these cases the wooden part is

usually in several pieces, which are lashed together with hide thongs.

In the winter, the hide of the walrus is often used for runners. It is

fully an inch in thickness, and, when frozen, is very much stronger

than a board of the same thickness.

When neither wood, bone, nor walrus skin can be procured, the Esquimaux

is still at no loss for runners. He cuts long strips of seal skin, and

sews the edges of each strip together, so as to make two long tubes.

The tubes are next filled with moss and earth, and water is then poured

into them. In a minute or two they are frozen as hard as stone, and

are then ready to form the runners of a sledge. The lower edge of the

runner, whether it be of bone, wood, or skin, is always shod with a

coating of ice, which is renewed as soon as it is worn off by friction,

which not only causes the sledge to glide faster over the frozen

surface, but preserves the valuable material of the runners from being

rubbed to pieces.

The cross-bars of the sledge are generally of bone. They project a

little beyond the runners on either side, and are so arranged that

the sledge is narrower in front than behind. They are not lashed too

tightly, as they are required to yield to the jerks and continual

strain which the sledge undergoes in its travels.

The sledge is drawn by a team of dogs, varying from seven to ten, or

even more, according to the weight to be carried. They are very simply

harnessed to it by a strong cord, or trace, made of seal hide, the

trace of the leading dog being considerably longer than that of any

of the others. Being accustomed to the work of the sledge, as soon as

they can walk, their training is very complete, and a good team will do

almost anything but speak.

A team of seven dogs drew a heavy sledge, full of men, a mile in four

minutes and a half; and Captain Lyon mentions that three dogs drew

him the same distance in six minutes, the weight of the sledge being

one hundred pounds. Several times, when returning to the ships, the

sagacious animals brought him and his companions safely to the vessels,

though the night was pitchy dark and the snow-drift blowing about in

clouds. They kept their noses to the ground, and galloped on at full

speed, in absolute certainty of their proper line.

The dogs are guided, not by reins, but by a whip, the lash of which is

from eighteen to thirty feet in length, and the handle only one foot in

length, much like the stock-whip of Australia. A skilful driver makes

but little use of the whip when he has a good team of dogs, but guides

the animals partly by his voice, and partly by flinging the lash of

the whip on one side or other of the leader, who perfectly understands

the signal. When they are required to stop, the driver gives a cry

almost exactly like the “Woa!” of our own country. He then throws the

lash gently over their backs, when they all lie down, and will remain

couched in the snow for hours even, during their master’s absence.

The worst of these dogs is that they are very quarrelsome, and are apt

to snap and snarl at each other as they gallop along. Sometimes a dog

will be exasperated with a bite, and turn furiously on his assailant,

when a general fight takes place, the whole of the dogs tumbling over

each other, and entangling the traces in a manner that none but an

Esquimaux could hope to disentangle. A plentiful application of whip

is then made, which is always resented by the dog that receives the

stroke. He chooses to think that his next neighbor has hurt him, and so

bites his ear. Sometimes a dog is so unruly that the driver is obliged

to use his last argument. Making a little hole in the snow with the toe

of his boot, he presses the dog’s snout into it, and pounds away at it

with the ivory handle of his whip. The dog never howls, nor tries to

release himself, but only utters a low whine. Such a punishment never

has to be repeated, and the dog always goes quietly for the rest of the

day.

The endurance of these animals is wonderful. They are kept in the open

air when the temperature is from thirty to forty degrees below zero.

They are very ill fed, being forced to content themselves with the

bones of fish and seals, scraps of hide, and such very few fragments as

their masters cannot devour. Consequently they are always hungry, and

can eat almost anything. Captain Hall mentions that in one night they

ate a whiplash thirty feet long, and that on one occasion a single dog

ate in seven seconds a piece of walrus hide and blubber six feet long

and an inch and a half square.

Yet, in spite of all the hardships which they undergo, they can endure

almost any amount of fatigue without appearing to be the worse for

it, and a team has been known to eat nothing for at least forty-eight

hours, to traverse some seventy miles of ground, and yet to return to

their homes apparently as fresh as when they set out.

Many of them are possessed of singular intelligence, especially those

which are trained to chase the seal, the bear, or the deer. One of

these dogs, named Barbekark, belonging to Captain Hall, actually killed

a deer himself, took one morsel from the neck, and then went home and

fetched his master to the spot where he had left the dead deer. He

had a brother that equally distinguished himself in seal catching. He

was the leading dog in the team, and once, while drawing a sledge, he

caught sight of a seal on the ice. He immediately dashed forward at

full speed, and just as the seal was plunging into the water, caught

it by the hind flippers. The seal struggled frantically to escape, but

the dog retained his hold, and, aided by his fellows, dragged the seal

firmly on the ice, when it was secured by his master.

A very amusing example of the intelligence of these dogs is related by

Captain Hall. He fed the dogs on “capelins,” a small dried fish, and

used to make them stand in a circle round him, so that each received

a capelin in turn. “Now Barbekark, a young and shrewd dog, took it

into his head that he would play a white man’s trick. So every time he

received his fish he would back square out, move a distance of three

or four dogs, and force himself in line again, thus receiving double

the share of any other dog. But this joke of Barbekark’s bespoke too

much of the game many men play upon their fellow-beings, and, as I

noticed it, I determined to check his doggish propensities. Still, the

amusing and the singular way in which he evidently watched me induced a

moment’s pause in my intention.

“Each dog thankfully took his capelin as his turn came round, but

Barbekark, finding his share came twice as often as his companions,

appeared to shake his tail twice as thankfully as the others. A twinkle

in his eyes as they caught mine seemed to say, ‘Keep dark; these

ignorant fellows don’t know the game I’m playing. I am confoundedly

hungry.’ Seeing my face smiling at his trick, he now commenced making

another change, thus getting _three_ portions to each of the others’

_one_. This was enough, and it was now time for me to reverse the order

of Barbekark’s game by playing a trick upon him.

[Illustration: (1.) THE KAJAK AND ITS MANAGEMENT. (See page 1344.)]

[Illustration: (2.) ESQUIMAUX SLEDGE DRIVING. (See pages 1345, 1346.)]