Once upon a time there lived on a solitary shore an Inung with his
daughter Sedna. His wife had been dead for some time and the two led a
quiet life. Sedna grew up to be a handsome girl and the youths came from
all around to sue for her hand, but none of them could touch her proud
heart. Finally, at the breaking up of the ice in the spring a fulmar
flew from over the ice and wooed Sedna with enticing song. “Come to me,”
it said; “come into the land of the birds, where there is never hunger,
where my tent is made of the most beautiful skins. You shall rest on
soft bearskins. My fellows, the fulmars, shall bring you all your heart
may desire; their feathers shall clothe you; your lamp shall always be
filled with oil, your pot with meat.” Sedna could not long resist such
wooing and they went together over the vast sea. When at last they
reached the country of the fulmar, after a long and hard journey, Sedna
discovered that her spouse had shamefully deceived her. Her new home was
not built of beautiful pelts, but was covered with wretched fishskins,
full of holes, that gave free entrance to wind and snow. Instead of soft
reindeer skins her bed was made of hard walrus hides and she had to live
on miserable fish, which the birds brought her. Too soon she discovered
that she had thrown away her opportunities when in her foolish pride she
had rejected the Inuit youth. In her woe she sang: “Aja. O father, if
you knew how wretched I am you would come to me and we would hurry away
in your boat over the waters. The birds look unkindly upon me the
stranger; cold winds roar about my bed; they give me but miserable food.
O come and take me back home. Aja.”
When a year had passed and the sea was again stirred by warmer winds,
the father left his country to visit Sedna. His daughter greeted him
joyfully and besought him to take her back home. The father hearing of
the outrages wrought upon his daughter determined upon revenge. He
killed the fulmar, took Sedna into his boat, and they quickly left the
country which had brought so much sorrow to Sedna. When the other
fulmars came home and found their companion dead and his wife gone, they
all flew away in search of the fugitives. They were very sad over the
death of their poor murdered comrade and continue to mourn and cry until
this day.
Having flown a short distance they discerned the boat and stirred up a
heavy storm. The sea rose in immense waves that threatened the pair with
destruction. In this mortal peril the father determined to offer Sedna
to the birds and flung her overboard. She clung to the edge of the boat
with a death grip. The cruel father then took a knife and cut off the
first joints of her fingers. Falling into the sea they were transformed
into whales, the nails turning into whalebone. Sedna holding on to the
boat more tightly, the second finger joints fell under the sharp knife
and swam away as seals (_Pagomys fœtidus_); when the father cut off the
stumps of the fingers they became ground seals (_Phoca barbata_).
Meantime the storm subsided, for the fulmars thought Sedna was drowned.
The father then allowed her to come into the boat again. But from that
time she cherished a deadly hatred against him and swore bitter revenge.
After they got ashore, she called her dogs and let them gnaw off the
feet and hands of her father while he was asleep. Upon this he cursed
himself, his daughter, and the dogs which had maimed him; whereupon the
earth opened and swallowed the hut, the father, the daughter, and the
dogs. They have since lived in the land of Adlivun, of which Sedna is
the mistress.
* * *
This tradition is handed down in an old song. I shall give the substance
of it here, as it differs in some points from the above myth.
The story begins when the fulmar carries Sedna to his home and she
discovers that he has brought her to a very wretched tent. The next year
the father and a brother, whom I find mentioned nowhere else, came to
visit her and take her home. The fulmar follows their boat and causes a
heavy gale to rise which almost upsets it. The father cuts off her
fingers, which are transformed into whales, seals, and ground seals.
Besides, he pierces her eye and thus kills her. Then he takes the body
into the boat and carries it to the shore. There he lays it on the beach
and covers it with a dogskin. When the flood comes in it covers Sedna.
Sedna and her father are described by the angakut (see p. 591), who
sometimes visit her house or see them when both dwell among the natives,
as follows: She is very large and much taller than the Inuit. In
accordance with the second form of the tradition she has only one eye
and is scarcely able to move. Her father is also a cripple and appears
to the dying, whom he grasps with his right hand, which has only three
fingers.
There is a remarkable resemblance between this tradition and one related
by Lyon (p. 362), who describes the religious ideas of the Iglulirmiut,
more particularly the genii of one of their angakut. He says that the
principal spirits are Aiviliajoq (Ay-willi-ay-oo) or Nuliajoq
(Noo-le-ay-oo), a female spirit, and her father, Napajoq (Nap-payok) or
Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig). Then he continues:
The former is in the first place the mother, protectress, and not
unfrequently the monopolist of sea animals, which she sometimes
very wantonly confines below, and by that means causes a general
scarcity in the upper world. When this is the case, the angakok is
persuaded to pay her a visit, and attempt the release of the
animals on which his tribe subsist. I know not what ceremonies he
performs at the first part of the interview; but as the spell by
which the animals are held lies in the hand of the enchantress,
the conjuror makes some bold attempts to cut it off, and,
according to his success, plenty, more or less, is obtained. If
deprived of her nails, the bears obtain their freedom; amputation
of the first joint liberates the netsiq (_Pagomys_); while that of
the second loosens the ugjuq (_Phoca_). Should the knuckles be
detached whole herds of walrus rise to the surface; and should the
adventurous angakoq succeed in cutting through the lower part of
the metacarpal bones, the monstrous whales are disenthralled and
delightedly join the other creatures of the deep. * * * Her house
is exceedingly fine, and very like a Kabluna (European)
looking-glass(?); and, what is still more attractive to an Eskimo,
it contains plenty of food. Immediately within the door of the
dwelling, which has a long passage of entrance, is stationed a
very large and fierce dog, which has no tail, and whose hinder
quarters are black. * * * Aiviliajoq is described as being equally
wonderful in her personal appearance as in her actions. She is
very tall and has but one eye, which is the left, the place of the
other being covered by a profusion of black hair. She has one
pigtail only, contrary to the established fashion in the upper
Eskimo world, which is to wear one on each side of the face, and
this is of such immense magnitude, that a man can scarcely grasp
it with both hands. Its length is exactly twice that of her arm,
and it descends to her knee. The hood of her jacket is always worn
up. * * *
Her father has but one arm, the hand of which is covered by a very
large mitten of bearskin. * * * He is not larger than a boy of ten
years of age. He bears the character of a good, quiet sort of
person and is master of a very nice house, which, however, is not
approachable, on account of the vast herds of walrus lying round
it, which, with numerous bears, make a terrific howling. * * * He
has nothing to eat, and does not even require it; in which
particular he differs widely from his daughter, who has a most
voracious appetite. I know not if he is the father of all
terrestrial animals, but he is certainly their patron, and
withholds them at times from the Eskimo.
The name of the father, Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig), i.e., the man with
something to cut (with a knife), is very remarkable. Besides, it is
interesting that the angakoq who visits the dwelling of Nuliajoq has to
cut off her hand in order to liberate the sea animals. In the tradition
related in the foregoing, Sedna has another name, to wit,
Uinigumisuitung, i.e., she who would not have a husband; her father,
Savirqong, i.e., the man with the knife. Often he is only called Anguta,
her father.
It is evident that Nuliajoq is identical with Sedna, though some
peculiarities exist in the tradition as related by Lyon which it is
rather difficult to reconcile with the myth as it is related among the
Oqomiut. It seems to me that this difficulty arises from the mixing up
of the angakoq’s visit to Sedna with the tradition itself. Indeed Lyon
only refers to the angakoq’s visit to Nuliajoq, whom he considers a
genius of a great angakoq, though he remarks in another place (p. 363)
that she “has a boundless command over the lives and destinies of
mankind.”
The tale of the angakoq’s visit makes the tradition very similar to the
Greenland myth of Arnaquagsaq, i.e., the old woman. According to Cranz
(p. 264) and to Rink (p. 40) this spirit has her abode in the depth of
the ocean. She represents the source of nourishment, supplying the
physical wants of mankind. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp,
beneath which is placed a vessel which receives the oil that keeps
flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, as well as from the dark
interior of her hut, she sends out all the animals which serve for food,
but in certain cases withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine.
The reason for thus withholding the supply was that certain filthy and
noxious parasites fastened themselves upon her head, of which she could
only be relieved by an angakoq. Then she could be induced again to send
out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he (the angakoq)
had first to pass the Arsissut and then to cross an abyss, in which,
according to the earliest authors, a wheel as slippery as ice was
constantly turning around; then, having safely passed a boiling kettle
with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which watch was
kept by terrible animals, sometimes described as seals, sometimes as
dogs; and, lastly, within the house passage itself, he had to cross an
abyss by means of a bridge as narrow as a knife edge.
About the same tale is found among the Baffin Land tribes; according to
Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., she is called Nanoquagsaq by the
Akuliarmiut. She is visited by the angakut, who liberate the sea animals
by subduing her or rather by depriving her of a charm by which she
restrains the animals.
I am inclined to think that the form in which Lyon gives this tradition
is not quite correct, but is a mixture of the Sedna myth and that of the
angakoq’s visit to Arnaquagsaq. This seems the more probable from a
Greenland tale which Dr. Rink kindly communicated to me, in which it is
related that the grandfather of Arnaquagsaq cut off her fingers, which
were changed into sea animals.
For this reason it is most probable that Arnaquagsaq, Sedna, and
Nuliajoq proceed from the same myth, though the traditions differ from
one another as they are related by the travelers. In the mythology of
the central tribes this character has a much more decided influence upon
their religious belief than the Arnaquagsaq of the Greenlanders seems to
have had.
The myth of Sedna is confused with another which treats of the origin of
the Europeans and of the Adlet (see p. 637). The legends are in part
almost identical. Sedna orders her dog to gnaw off her father’s feet;
Uinigumisuitung’s children maim their grandfather in the same way; and,
besides, Sedna’s second name is also Uinigumisuitung. In both tales the
father is called Savirqong. In Lyon’s Private Journal (p. 363) an
important statement is found to the effect that the dog which protects
Nuliajoq’s dwelling is by some natives called her husband, by others
merely her dog, but that he is generally considered the father of
Erqigdlit (identical with Adlet, p. 637) and Qadlunait (Europeans).
Finally, I must record the legend of the origin of the walrus and the
reindeer, which is closely related to the Sedna tradition. I could never
learn any other reason why the use of sea animals and reindeer at the
same period should be forbidden, except the fear of offending Sedna. She
is represented as disliking the deer, which accordingly are not found in
her house. Any reason for this dislike is not given. The Akuliarmiut,
however, have a tradition that a woman, most probably Sedna herself,
created the walrus and the reindeer during a famine. She opened her
belly and took out a small piece of fat which she carried up the hills
where it was transformed by a magic spell into a reindeer. As soon as
she saw the animal she became frightened and ordered it to run away, but
the deer turned upon her and would not go; then she became angry and
knocked out its teeth. It turned round at once, but before it could
leave she gave it a kick which lopped off its tail. Thus it happened
that the deer is deficient as to certain teeth and has scarcely any
tail. The woman, however, continued to hate the deer. Afterward she
descended to the beach and threw another piece of fat into the water. It
was transformed into a walrus, which swam away at once. (According to a
communication of Captain Spicer.)
The form of this tradition as related by the Akudnirmiut is somewhat
different. During a famine a woman (I could not learn whether she was
identical with Sedna or not) carried her boots to the hills and
transformed them by magic into deer, which spread all over the country.
Then she carried her breeches to the sea, where they were changed into
walrus. The first deer, however, had large tusks and no horns, while the
walrus had horns and no tusks. The Eskimo soon found that this was very
dangerous for the hunter, as the deer killed pursuers with their tusks,
while the walrus upset the boats. Therefore an old man transferred the
horns to the deer and the tusks to the walrus.
It is very probable that this woman was Sedna, as the Eskimo affirm that
the observances referring to walrus and deer are commanded by Sedna and
as the first tradition accounts for her dislike of the deer.
I could not find any trace of the tradition reported by Lyon, that
Anautalik, Nuliajoq’s father, is the protector of land animals, nor of
that of a being to whom he refers by the name of Pukimna (derived from
pukiq, the white parts of a deerskin), who lives in a fine country far
to the west and who is the immediate protectress of deer, which animals
roam in immense herds around her dwelling.
Sedna is the mistress of one of the countries to which the souls go
after death. It has been related in the foregoing tradition of Sedna and
the fulmar that she descended to Adlivun; since that time she has been
the mistress of the country, and when invoked as such has the name of
Idliragijenget. She has a large house, in which no deerskins are found.
There she lives with her father, each occupying one side of it. The
father, who is unable to move, lies on the ledge and is covered with old
skins. In the entrance across the threshold lies Sedna’s dog watching
her house. Like her, the father has only one eye, and he never moves
from his place while in the house.
The dead, who are seized by Sedna’s father, Anguta, are carried to this
dwelling. The dog moves aside only a little, just enough to allow the
souls to pass. They have to stay in this dismal abode during a whole
year, lying by the side of Anguta, who pinches them.
The happy land is heaven and is called Qudlivun (the uppermost ones).
It abounds with deer, which are easily caught, and no ice or snow ever
visits it.
The Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut make a distinction between Adlivun and
Adliparmiut. Adlivun means “those who live beneath us;” Adliparmiut,
“the inhabitants of the country farthest below us;” and the same
difference exists between Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. Though these names
intimate the probability that the Eskimo believe in a series of places,
located in a descending scale, each below the other, I could not find
any more detailed description of the conception.
Hall’s observations agree fairly with my own. He says (I, p. 524):
Qudliparmiut (heaven) is upward. Everybody happy there. All the
time light; no snow, no ice, no storms; always pleasant; no
trouble; never tired; sing and play all the time--all this to
continue without end.
Adliparmiut (hell) is downward. Always dark there. No sun; trouble
there continually; snow flying all the time, terrible storms;
cold, very cold; and a great deal of ice there. All who go there
must always remain.
All Inuit who have been good go to Qudliparmiut; that is, who have
been kind to the poor and hungry, all who have been happy while
living on this earth. Any one who has been killed by accident, or
who has committed suicide, certainly goes to the happy place.
All Inuit who have been bad--that is, unkind one to another--all
who have been unhappy while on this earth, will go to Adliparmiut.
If an Inung kills another because he is mad at him, he will
certainly go to Adliparmiut.
Kumlien’s remarks on this subject, as well as on other ethnographic
subjects, are not trustworthy. He has transferred Greenland tales to
Cumberland Sound, though the traditions of these tribes differ
materially one from the other. I tried hard to corroborate his
statements concerning the amaroq and the tornarsuq, concerning certain
customs, &c., and am convinced that they are totally unknown to all the
natives of Baffin Land from Nugumiut to Tununirn.
Kumlien states that the better land is below the surface of the earth
and that those who are killed by violence descend after death. According
to Hall and to replies to my own inquiries, it is quite the reverse.
Lyon’s report is extremely interesting, particularly his description of
the stages of the nether world, of which I could only find a scanty hint
in the names. He says (p. 372):
There are two places appointed to receive the souls of the good:
one of these is in the center of the earth, the other in qilaq, or
heaven. To the latter place, such as are drowned at sea, starved
to death, murdered, or killed by walruses or bears, are instantly
wafted, and dwell in a charming country, which, however, has never
been seen by any angakoq. * * *
The place of souls in the world below is called Adli generally;
but there are, properly, four distinct states of blessedness, and
each rank has a world to itself, the lowest land being the last
and best, which all hope to reach. The day on which a good person
dies and is buried, the soul goes to a land immediately under the
visible world; and, still descending, it arrives the second day at
one yet lower; the third day it goes farther yet; and on the
fourth it finds, “below the lowest deep, a deeper still.” This is
the “good land,” and the soul which reaches it is for ever happy.
The three first stages are bad uncomfortable places for in each
the sky is so close to the earth, that a man cannot walk erect:
yet these regions are inhabited; and the good soul, in passing
through them, sees multitudes of the dead, who, having lost their
way, or, not being entitled to the “good land,” are always
wandering about and in great distress. Whether these unhappy souls
are in purgatory or not, I was unable to learn; but they suffer no
other pain than what we would call the “fidgets.” In the lowest
Adli a perpetual and delightful summer prevails.
The belief of these tribes undoubtedly is that all who die by accident
or by violence and women who die in childbirth are taken to the upper
world. I never heard a different opinion expressed by any native. I do
not know whether they believe in a series of upper worlds similar to the
nether worlds of the Iglulirmiut, but it is probable, from the names
Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. In the Greenland tradition the upper world is
represented as a country with hills and valleys, over which the solid
blue sky is expanded. Sedna of the Oqomiut lives in Adlivun, and here
the souls must stay one year after death. Everybody who dies from
disease or who has offended Sedna by infringing her orders is taken to
her. The Eskimo are in great fear of the terrors of her abode. Murderers
and offenders against human laws, after they have entered Sedna’s house,
will never leave it; the other souls, however, are taken to the
Adliparmiut, where they live comparatively at their ease, although they
are not nearly so blessed as the Qudliparmiut. They hunt whales and
walrus and are almost always troubled by ice and snow.
The older authors on Greenland mythology state that the conceptions of
the natives do not coincide (Cranz). According to one tradition the good
land is below, and tornarsuq, the supreme tornaq, is master of it. Here
continuous summer prevails and there is plenty of fresh water, with a
profusion of game. Only those people are allowed to come here who have
been good hunters and workers, who have accomplished great exploits,
caught many seals, who have suffered much, or have died by violence or
in childbirth. The souls of the deceased must slide for five days, or
even longer, down a steep rock, which has become quite slippery from the
blood which has been sprinkled over it. Those who have been lazy and
unfit for working go to the upper world, where they suffer from scarcity
of food. Particularly the bad and witches are taken to this country,
where they are tormented by ravens.
Another tradition places the good land in heaven. The souls travel on
the rainbow to the moon, near which they find a large lake abounding
with fowls and fish. Rink gives the following statement on this subject
(p. 37):
After death, human souls either go to the upper or to the under
world. The latter is decidedly to be preferred, as being warm and
rich in food. There are the dwellings of the happy dead called
arsissut,--viz, those who live in abundance. On the contrary,
those who go to the upper world will suffer from cold and famine;
and these are called the arssartut, or ball players, on account of
their playing at ball with a walrus head, which gives rise to the
aurora borealis.
While the Iglulirmiut believe that the soul leaves the body immediately
after death and descends to Adli, the tribes of Davis Strait suppose
that it lingers three days around the body, unable to leave it. Then it
descends to Sedna’s house. During its stay in Adlivun the soul is called
tupilaq, which is represented by the figure of a man with wide, loose,
shabby clothing. It is looked upon as a malevolent spirit, frequently
roaming around the villages. The tupilaq is not allowed to enter the
houses, and if the angakoq perceives and announces his presence no one
would dare to leave the houses. His touch kills men at once, the sight
of him causes sickness and mischief. As soon as the soul has become an
adliparmio, it is at rest and ceases to be feared as a tupilaq.
It is worth remarking that the Greenlanders designate with the name of
tupilaq a supernatural being made by men for the purpose of destroying
their enemies (Rink, p. 53). It is composed of various parts of
different animals and is enabled to act in the shape of any of them at
will. I have not found any trace of this idea among the Central Eskimo.