56. THE ANGAKOK TUGTUTSIAK.

56.
THE ANGAKOK TUGTUTSIAK.

[This tale, only received in one copy, has been adopted for the present collection on account of its referring to the process of being angakok poolik, frequently mentioned by the older authors in connection with the Greenlanders.]

TUGTUTSIAK and his sister were a couple of orphans, and lived in a great house. It once happened that all the grown-up people went away berry-gathering, leaving all children at home. Tugtutsiak, who happened to be the eldest of them, said, "Let us try to conjure up spirits;" and some of them proceeded to make up the necessary preparations, while he himself undressed, and covered the door with his jacket, and closed the opening at the sleeves with a string. He p. 325 now commenced the invocation, while the other children got mortally frightened, and were about to take flight. But the slabs of the floor were lifted high in the air, and rushed after them. Tugtutsiak would have followed them, but felt himself sticking fast to the floor, and could not get loose until he had made the children come back, and ordered them to uncover the door, and open the window, on which it again became light in the room, and he was enabled to get up. He told his companions not to mention it to the old ones when they returned; but as soon as the boat landed in the evening some of the younger children forgot their promise, and said: "We have had great fun to-day; Tugtutsiak played at angakok, and when we got frightened and took to our heels, the slabs rose up from their place on the floor and followed after us." The elder people were astonished, but agreed to let him try it over again in the evening. At this proposal Tugtutsiak got frightened, and took to crying; but afterwards, when the hunting became bad, they wanted him to conjure up the sea-animals, and he was made to sit down and call forth a bear and a walrus, which were soon roaring outside the house. The bear went ashore and took hold of Tugtutsiak, and flung him along to the walrus, which again hurled him out to the bear. In this manner Tugtutsiak alternately was thrust from the walrus to the bear, and from the bear to the walrus, until he lost sight of his native country, and at length a new land rose in front of him; but this country was lower than the one he had left. Close to the shore the bear for the last time seized hold of him, and threw him upon the beach. Having got there, his senses revived, and close beside him he observed a house, and on the roof, above the passage leading to it, was a terrible dog, which, showing his white teeth, howled and snarled at him when he drew nigh. Nevertheless he approached, and for the first time observed that a bridge as narrow as a knife's edge led into the inner room, p. 326 which appeared totally dark. Still he proceeded, and made his way to the main room, where the female owner of the house lay on the ledge, suffering great pain. Her hair was all loose and dishevelled, and her face turned to the wall. On seeing Tugtutsiak, she started to her feet, crying out aloud, "What hast thou come for? thou canst not take away what makes me suffer." But from the narrow passage he rushed right upon her, took hold of her by the hair, and flung her against the door-post. Having, however, got his hands entangled in her long hair, he was himself dragged along with her, and could not extricate himself. He tried to throw her off, but his hands could not be got loose; and she surrendered herself to him, saying, "Now I see thou mayst be capable of removing my sufferings." On closer examination Tugtutsiak found her eyes, nostrils, and mouth stuffed with dirt and filth. He cleaned it away, and threw it outside, after which the hideous woman grew somewhat composed, and after a while resumed, "Now do my hair." He put it up in the usual tuft, upon which she took down some eagles' wings from a nail in the wall, and stirred up the smoking lamp, so as to make it burn brightly. For the first time he could now see that the walls were hung with skins like those used for boat-covers; and though the lamp was now burning quite clearly, he could not distinguish any objects in the more remote parts of the room, which were in total darkness. A moment after he heard the horrible woman saying, "My guest ought not to go alone; let some one accompany him out: "and presently a little man with a very short nose emerged from out of the wall, and after him a host of similar creatures, who all passed out of the doorway; when the last had vanished, they were all heard to cry out, "Kah, kah—sa, sa!" just like the shrieks of auks. Other varieties followed soon-some with flat noses, and others with crooked ones; but when they were getting too numerous she cried "Stop!" p. 327 When the last were about to pass Tugtutsiak, he scratched some of them in the forehead, because he noticed that they were transfigured as soon as they passed the doorway, and he put a mark upon some of the most beautiful specimens, that he might know them again if he happened to catch them. Afterwards several other curious creatures appeared, some of them with large heads and great beards, and as soon as they were getting too numerous she again cried "Stop!" When these had all passed by, he observed that the lamp burned still brighter, and the way through the passage was now quite smooth, and sufficiently wide, and the dog wagged his tail quite amicably at him. Simultaneously with all these strange doings, his house-fellows at home observed that his belongings were shaking. On his way home he was again alternately thrown along by the bear and the walrus; but the last time by the bear, and he gained his homestead, where his relatives sat singing for him on his return. Being apprised of his arrival through the noise caused by his entrance, a great man among them gave orders, "Light the lamp for him;" and they could now see that no single spot of his body had remained unwounded. This arose from the teeth of the bear and the walrus, and they could not hear him breathe. The lamps were again extinguished, and the singing commenced; some time after he began to revive a little, but at daybreak they saw that his wounds were not yet healed, and so they continued the singing. There happened to be among them one ostentatious fellow, who on the following morning went out to have a look at the ice. On his return he exclaimed, "I guess it will be a meagre hunt he will procure us;" but Tugtutsiak only muttered, "Wait a bit—let my wounds first heal, and then we will see;" and when they began healing, a gale from the south-east had suddenly set in. A man who had gone out to reconnoitre quickly returned, reporting that the ice was p. 328 rapidly receding from the shore, and instantly afterwards auks and dovekies were seen in numbers. The inhabitants soon hastened out with their fowling-spears, and they had their kayaks filled before evening. The boaster, however, only got one bird. When they began to catch seals, they gave to the angakok the first one they caught, of all varieties; and he examined all he got closely, hoping to find out those he had marked, but all in vain. Some time after, however, the report came that far away at Illulissat there had been caught a thong-seal and a spotted seal both with a mark right between the eyes.