FEAST AND FUN.
IT did not take long for the hunters to exchange their wet clothing for
dry garments. Then with their wives and children they gathered in the
home of their chief.
"How could the feast be prepared so quickly?" we ask in surprise. If we
could have been there we should not have wondered very long.
The people squatted on the floor in a circle. Etu and his father stood
in their midst with big knives, ready to cut up the seals lying before
them. Hungry as they were, they must not eat yet. Something important
must be done first.
The Eskimos have many strange beliefs. They think there is a spirit
in everything,--the rock, the snow, the wind, the very air has its
spirit. The seal, therefore, has its spirit, too, and must be treated
respectfully.
Etu's father solemnly sprinkled water on the body, while every one
watched him in silence. It was an offering to the animal's spirit. He
next carefully cut away the skin and showed the thick layer of blubber
beneath. The eyes of the company sparkled with delight. Many funny
faces were made as each in turn received a huge chunk of raw blubber.
Please don't shudder at the thought of eating it. White travellers
among the Eskimos tell us it is really very good, and tastes much like
fresh cream. It is only after it has been kept for a long time that it
begins to taste rancid and fishy.
After the blubber had been divided among the company, the bodies of
the two seals were opened, and the blood scooped out. It seemed
truly delicious to the hungry visitors. The last course of the feast
consisted of the seal's ribs, which were picked until nothing was left
save the bones.
How the people did eat! How they enjoyed the dainties served to them!
There were many stories told by those who could stop long enough to
talk. Etu was asked, over and over again, to describe how he killed his
first seal. And each time the movements of his face, as well as his
arms and hands, seemed to express as much as the words themselves.
At this strange feast, for which no cooking was needed, the women were
not served first, as in our own land. It was the men who were first
thought of, and who received the choicest pieces. But Etu did not
forget his mother, and looked out to see that she was well served.
When the feast was over at last, all joined in a song. There were only
a few notes, and these were repeated over and over again; but the party
must have enjoyed it, or they would not have sung it so many times.
At last the moon shone down upon them, and Etu's mother hastened to
draw the sealskin curtain. For her people dread the power of the moon,
and do not willingly sit in its light. It is a wonderful being, and Etu
has been taught that it brings the cold weather to his people. How is
this possible? Why, as it dwells afar off in the sky, it whittles the
tusk of a walrus. In some wonderful way the shavings are changed into
the snow which falls in great sheets over the earth.
By this time the party began to think of going home. They must prepare
for another "sleep," they said, and the people of the house were soon
left to themselves.
Etu does not count time as we do. He speaks of a "moon" ago, instead
of a month. Yesterday is the period before the last "sleep," and the
years are counted by the winters. A fresh notch is cut in the wall of
his winter home when the family leave it for their summer's travels.
That is the only way his people have to keep account of the passing
time. They do not write or read, except as they are taught by their
white visitors, and Etu has never seen a book in his life.
The boy's father has shown him how to make good maps of the coast. They
are very neat, and are measured so exactly that every island and point
of land are correctly marked for many miles. They are drawn with the
burnt ends of sticks on smooth pieces of driftwood, but if you ever
visit Etu, you can trust to them in exploring the country.
On the day after the feast the other seals were divided evenly among
all the people in the village. The successful hunters did not once
dream of keeping them for their own families. What! have a fine dinner
yourself, while others around you go hungry! It was not to be thought
of. All must share alike.