by Waldemar Bogoras (1910) — Introduction and Chukchee Tales

Waldemar Bogoras spent 1900 and 1901 among the Chukchee of the Pacific coast of northeastern Siberia, recording their myths, tales, incantations, songs, and sayings for the Jesup North Pacific Expedition. The full monograph, published in 1910 as Volume VIII of the expedition's memoirs, presents most of that material as bilingual "Chukchee Texts" — the Chukchee original given interlinear, word by word, beneath Bogoras's free English translation, the two densely interleaved on the printed page. That interlinear apparatus could not be separated from the free translation at reliable quality from this scan; rather than risk shipping a garbled hybrid, this edition omits it. What follows instead is the complete text of Bogoras's own English-language Introduction — his account of how the texts were recorded, and his sketch of Chukchee phonetics — followed by the complete "Chukchee Tales," a separate section of twenty-four stories that Bogoras recorded and rendered directly in English, without an interlinear native-language layer. Readers wanting the bilingual myths, incantations, songs, and proverbs of the monograph's larger first part should consult the archive.org scan directly (identifier below).

Introduction

The following series of texts was recorded by me during the years 1900 and 1901 in various villages on the Pacific Coast of the Chukchee Peninsula, between Mariinsky Post and Uiii'sak. A number of tales are here given with interlinear translation and free translation. The attempt has been made to render the texts as accurately as possible, but it has been found necessary to omit in the translations many of the conjunctions and interjections which are quite numerous in Chukchee and which often appear in extended groups.

Most of the tales have no native names. For these, titles indicating the contents have been added. All such titles are placed in parentheses. Only a few tales are named, like "The Raven-Tale," "The Polygamist-Tale" and others.

Words added in the translations for the sake of clearness are placed in parentheses. Literal translation of Chukchee words or phrases are enclosed in brackets.

The following alphabet has been used for transcribing Chukchee sounds: — Vowels.

e i e a e i e a o u

1 e a u a, e, i, u . . . have their continental sounds (always long).

o like in nor.

a obscure vowel (long).

a, e, 1 .... obscure vowels (short).

e like e in bell, but prolonged.

e i a diphtong with an accent on i. .It always has a laryngeal intonation, e i 8 .

e between and long.

u posterior part of mouth in i position, lips in u position (short).

Very long and very short vowels are indicated by the macron and breve respectively. The diphthongs are formed by combining any of the vowels with i and u. Thus : ai like i in hide.

ei ...... . " ei " vein.

oi , " oi " choice.

au . " ow " how.

Consonants.

Glottal .... 8 Velar g h q

Palatal .... k n Alveolar . . . d* J- t* c # s* n*

J c f d t s n r

Labial b p m v Lateral . . . . l l 1

w y

1 as in German.

l posterior palatal /, surd and exploded, the tip of the tongue touching the alveoli of the upper jaw, and the back of the tongue pressed against the hard palate.

l posterior palatal /, like l, but sonant.

r as in French.

r dental with slight trill.

m, n as in English.

n* palatized n (almost like ny with consonantic y).

n nasal consonant, with k position of tongue.

b, p as in English.

v bilabial.

8 a glottal stop.

g velar g.

h as in English (used after c, /, /).

k as in English.

q velar k.

d, t as in English.

d # , t- palatized (similar to dy and ty with consonantic y).

s as in English.

s* palatized (similar to sy with consonantic y).

£ like English ch.

] like English j in joy.

fr strongly palatized c, intermediate between and c, but weaker than either.

J* strongly palatized ).

y, w always consonantic.

The following additional symbols have been used: — ! designates increased stress of articulation of the preceding consonant.

' designates a full pause between two vowels : yine'a.

• is used to connect parts of compound words.

wkw (before and after u, — kw) is pronounced as a compound sound. The lips are placed in u position, while k is formed by the back of the tongue.

In a similar way gu and go are often pronounced with a faint w sound between consonant and vowel.

i terminal and unaccented is often pronounced with a slight nasal sound.

In a few cases w in the beginning of the word is also pronounced with a nasal sound. No additional signs have been used to indicate the nasal character of these sounds.

i (consonantic y) between vowels is generally omitted or pronounced very faintly.

yi when preceded by the vowels e and i almost always loses its consonantic character and becomes i. For instance : gei'lq&Lin instead of ge-yilqadn.

The terminal sound is often modified by the initial sound of the following word, according to certain phonetic rules. These will be given in a discussion of the Chukchee grammar. Owing to the slowness of speech necessary for writing from dictation many such changes have disappeared in the texts as taken down by me. I have thought it advisable to leave these cases uncorrected. I have written for instance correctly : u^er relu 8/ nitki, instead of u^el relu 8/ iiitki, in accordance with the rule that terminal / before r changes to r. But in another case I have left m6'mil ra'nmugnen.

In contrast to the Koryak, the Chukchee language has hardly any dialects to speak of. This is probably due to the mobility of the tribe and to the frequent intermarriages between the Reindeer and Maritime branches of the tribe. Among the Koryak such intermarriages are quite rare. There exist some differences in the vocabularies of the Kolyma and Pacific coast regions. Several words that are used on the Pacific coast, — particularly south of the Anadyr River, — are found also in the Koryak language. The Reindeer people of the Kolyma know their meaning, but usually employ other words, which are in turn known, though not commonly used, on the Pacific coast. The people of the Arctic villages speak faster and harsher than the Reindeer Chukchee of the inland.

The pronunciation of women differs from that of the men. They use in most cases instead of 6 an r, and instead of r (particularly after soft vowels) $. They also use instead of rk and th the double B. Contracted forms of words are never used by women. Men, for instance, say nitva'qenat, or nitva'qaat. Women say only nitva'qenat. The sounds 6 and r are of frequent occurrence in Chukchee, so that the female speech with its recurrent $ sounds quite peculiar, and is not easily understood by an inexperienced ear.

The women are not by any means unable to pronounce d and r like men; and in tales, when quoting a man's words they use the male pronunciation. But in ordinary conversation the male pronunciation is considered as unbecoming a woman.

Specimens of female pronunciation will be found in a few songs of the Reindeer Chukchee of the Kolyma, all of which belong to women.

A few songs, proverbs and word games ("fast speeches"), taken down among the Reindeer Chukchee of the Kolyma[1] have been incorporated in this collection. These songs are not mere improvisations, like most of the songs of the Reindeer Chukchee, since I heard some of the words repeated many times without change.

Proverbs are quite few and undeveloped. I am not sure even that these phrases are proverbs in the strict sense of the term, though they are fairly generally known and used in stereotyped form. Word games are in use among children, just as those of Europe. Those given here are well known also on the Pacific coast.

[1] See Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, pp. 144–146.

I. Creation Tales

i. Raven Tale

First Version.

Raven[1][2] and his wife live together, — the first one, not created by any one, Raven, the one self-created. The ground upon which they live is quite small, corresponding only to their wants, sufficient for their place of abode. Moreover, there are no people on it, nor is there any other living creature, nothing at all, — no reindeer, no walrus, no whale, no seal, no fish, not a single living being. The woman says, "Ku'urkil."[3] — "What?" — "But we shall feel dull, being quite alone. This is an unpleasant sort of life. Better go and try to create the earth!" — "I cannot, truly!" — "Indeed, you can!" — "I assure you, I cannot!" — "Oh, well! since you cannot create the earth, then I, at least, shall try to create a 'spleen-companion.'"[4] — "Well, we shall see !" said Raven.

"I will go to sleep," said his wife. "I shall not sleep," said Ku'urkil. "I shall keep watch over you. I shall look and see how you are going to be." — "All right!" She lay down and was asleep. Ku'urkil is not asleep. He keeps watch, and looks on. Nothing! she is as before. His wife, of course, had the body of a raven, just like himself. He looked from the other side: the same as before. He looked from the front, and there her feet had ten human fingers, moving slowly. "Oh, my!" He stretches out his own feet, — the same raven's talons. "Oh," says he, "I cannot change my body!" Then he looks on again, and his wife's body is already white and without feathers, like ours." Oh; my!" He tries to change his own body, but how can he do so? Although he chafes it, and pulls at the feathers, how can he do such a thing? The same raven's body and raven's feathers ! Again he looks at his wife. Her abdomen has enlarged. In her sleep she creates without any effort. He is frightened, and turns his face away. He is afraid to look any more. He says, "Let me remain thus, not looking on!" After a little while he wants to look again, and cannot abstain any longer. Then he looked again, and, lo ! there are already three of them. His wife was delivered in a moment. She brought forth male twins. Then only did she awake from her sleep. All three have bodies like ours, only Raven has the same raven's body. The children laugh at Raven, and ask the mother, "Mamma, what is that?" — "It is the father." — "Oh, the father! Indeed! Ha, ha, ha!" They come nearer, push him with their feet. He flies off, crying, "Qa, qa !" They laugh again. "What is that?" — "The father." — "Ha, ha, ha! the father!" They laugh all the time. The mother says, "O children! you are still foolish. You must speak only when you are asked to. It is better for us, the full-grown ones, to speak here. You must laugh only when you are permitted to. You have to listen and obey." They obeyed and stopped laughing.

Raven said, "There, you have created men! Now I shall go and try to create the earth. If I do not come back, you may say, 'He has been drowned in the water, let him stay there!' I am going to make an attempt." He flew away. First he visited all the benevolent Beings (va'irgit and asked them for advice, but nobody gave it. He asked the Dawn, — no advice. He asked Sunset, Evening, Mid-day, Zenith, — no answer and no advice. At last he came to the place where sky and ground come together. There, in a hollow, where the sky and the ground join, he saw a tent. It seemed full of men. They were making a great noise. He peeped in through a hole burnt by a spark, and saw a large number of naked backs. He jumped away, frightened, ran aside, and stood there trembling. In his fear he forgot all his pride in his recent intentions.

One naked one goes out. "Oh! it seemed that we heard some one passing by, but where is he!" — "No, it is I," came an answer from one side. "Oh, how wonderful! Who are you?" — "Indeed, I am going to become a creator. I am Ku'urkil, the self-created one." — "Oh, is that so?" "And who are you?" — "We have been created from the dust resulting from the friction of the sky meeting the ground. We are going to multiply and to become the first seed of all the peoples upon the earth. But there is no earth. Could not somebody create the earth for us?" — "Oh, I will try!" Raven and the man who spoke flew off together. Raven flies and defecates. Every piece of excrement falls upon water, grows quickly, and becomes land. Every piece of excrement becomes land, — the continent and islands, plenty of land. "Well," says Raven, "Look on, and say, is this not enough?" — "Not yet," answers his companion. "Still not sufficient. Also there is no fresh water; and the land is too even. Mountains there are none." — "Oh," says Raven, "shall I try again?" He began to pass water. Where one drop falls, it becomes a lake -, where a jet falls, it becomes a river.[5] After that he began to defecate a very hard substance. Large pieces of that excrement became mountains, smaller pieces became hills. The whole earth became as it is now.

Then he asks, "Well, how is it now?" The other one looked. "It seems still not enough. Perhaps it would have been sufficient if there had not been so much water. Now some day the water shall increase and submerge the whole land, even the mountain-tops will not be visible."

Oh, Raven, the good fellow, flew farther on. He strains himself to the utmost, creates ground, exhausts himself, and creates water for the rivers and lakes. "Well, now, look down! Is this not enough?" — "Perhaps it is enough. If a flood comes, at least the mountain-tops will remain above water. Yes, it is enough ! Still, what shall we feed upon ?"

Oh, Raven, the good fellow, flew off, found some trees, many of them, . of various kinds, — birch, pine, poplar, aspen, willow, stone-pine, oak. He took his hatchet and began to chop. He threw the chips into the water, and they were carried off by* the water to the sea. When he hewed pine, and threw the chips into the water, they became mere walrus ; when he hewed oak, the chips became seals. From the stone-pine the chips became polar bears; from small creeping black birch, however, the chips became large whales. Then also the chips from all the other trees became fish, crabs, worms, every kind of beings living in the sea; then, moreover, wild reindeer, foxes, bears, and all the game of the land. He created them all, and then he said, "Now you have food! hm!" His children, moreover, became men, and they separated and went in various directions. They made houses, hunted game, procured plenty of food, became people. Nevertheless they were all males only. Women there were none, and the people could not multiply. Raven began to think, 'What is to be done?' A small Spider-Woman (Ku'rgu-ne'ut x ) is descending from above on a very slender thread. "Who are you?" — "I am a Spider- Woman !" — "Oh, for what are you coming here?" — "Well, I thought, 'How will the people live, being only males, without females?' Therefore I am coming here." — "But you are too small." — "That is nothing. Look here!" Her abdomen enlarged, she became pregnant, and then gave birth to four daughters. They grew quite fast and became women. " Now, you shall see !"

A man came, — that one who was flying around with Raven. He saw them, and said, "What beings are these, so like myself and at the same time quite different? Oh, I should like to have one of them for a companion! We have separated, and live singly. This is uncomfortable. I am dull, being alone. I want to take one of these for a companion." — "But perhaps it will starve!" — "Why should it starve? I have plenty of food. We are hunters, all of us. No, I will have it fed abundantly. It shall not know hunger at all."[6]

He took away one woman. The next day Raven went to visit them, made a hole in the tent-cover, and peeped through. "Oh," says he, "they are sleeping separately in opposite corners of the sleeping-room ! Oh, that is bad ! How can they multiply ?"

He called softly, "Halloo!" — "Halloo!" The man awoke and answered him. "Come out here! I shall enter." He entered. The woman lay quite naked. He drew nearer. He inhaled the odor[7] of her arm. His sharp beak pricked her. "Oh, oh, oh!" — "Be silent! We shall be heard." He pushed her legs apart and copulated with her. Then he repeated it again. The other one was standing outside. He felt cold, and said, "It seems to me that you are mocking me." — " Now, come in ! You shall know it too. This is the way for you to multiply." The other one entered. The woman said, "It is a good thing. I should like to repeat it once more." The man answered, "I do not know how." — "Oh, draw nearer!" He says, "Oh, wonderful!" — "Do this way, and thus and thus." They copulated.

Therefore girls understand earlier than boys how to copulate. In this manner human kind multiplied.

Told by A 8 'ttnrqeu, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

(Second Version.) The Creator lived with his wife. There was nothing, no land, no mountains, only water and above it the sky; also a little piece of ground, just large enough for them to sleep on at night. Creator said to his wife, " Certainly, we feel downcast. We must create something to be company for us." — "All right!" They each took a spade and started to dig the ground, and to throw it in all directions. They dug a ditch so large and deep, that all water flowed down to it. Only the lakes remained in deep hollows, and the rivers in clefts and ravines. The large ditch became the sea. After that they created various animals and also men. Then they went away. Only the Raven they forgot to create. They left on their camping-place a large outer garment (ni'glon[8]). Raven came out from it in the night-time. He went to visit the Creator. "Oh, who are you?" — "I am Ku'urkil, the self-created one." — "How strange! Self-created! I thought I had created everything, and now it appears that you are of separate origin." — "Yes, yes! I am Ku'urkil, the self-created one." — "All right! — Here, you, bring a few pieces of fly-agaric. Let him eat them, and be full of their force!" Raven ate the fly-agaric. "Oh, oh, I am Ku'urkil! I am the son of the ni'glon. I am Ku'urkil! I am the son of the ni'glon." — "Ah, indeed! And I believed that you were self-created. And now it appears that you are the son of the ni'glon, you are one of mine, created by me, you liar!" The end.

Told by Rike'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

(Third Version.) When Raven was arranging the earth, one time he carried in his lap a heap of stones. He felt fatigued, and threw down the stones one by one. The stones turned into islands and cliffs on the main shore. Then he set his stone house in the western part of MiVqAn Bay (Holy Cross Bay) and crossed to Ki'imin (Cape Prince of Wales on the American shore).

Told by Va'lE, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] "Creation Tales" (Tet-temwa't-ta'gniken pi'nilte), literally "a new-creation-limits-tidings." [2] Variations of this tale, with several different episodes, are to be met with everywhere among the Chukchee. Some were published in the author's Chukchee Materials, Nos. 49–61, pp. 159, 169. At the same time some notion of the Flood is also present; this was probably borrowed from the Russian. [3] Ku'urkil is the name of the Raven (see Vol. VII of this series, p. 315). [4] Emno'l-te'm^in (see Vol. VII of this series, p. 503, Footnote 2). [5] Compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 303. [6] Compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 330. [7] Instead of kissing (compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 38). [8] A winter garment, loose and broad, made of thick autumn skins of full-grown reindeer.

2. The Hare Tale

In the olden time it was dark on the earth. The ke'let stole the sun and took it away to their house. There they played ball with it. Hare said, "Let me get back the sun!" He climbed up on the tent of the ke'let and looked in. They were playing ball with the sun. He dropped from above down into the tent. "Oh, oh! we have found a fat little hare!" — "Do not hurt me! I will give you plenty of oil." — "Oh, will you?" — "How many kettles have you?" — "Two kettles." He kicked the sun with his toe, and nearly made it jump out of the vent-hole. Then he jumped up himself and almost did the same. Still he fell down again. "Oh, oh, we have found a fat little hare!" — "Do not hurt me! I will fill you up with oil." — "Oh, will you?" — "How many kettles have you?" — "Three kettles." He kicked the sun, and it bounded upwards out of the vent-hole, shot high into the air, and stuck to the sky. Before this it had been loose. Then he jumped up himself, got out, and fled away. The ke'lE gave chase.

The little Hare came to the Eagle. "Oh, oh, hide me! A ke'lE is pursuing me!" — "All right!" The Eagle hid him in his right arm-pit. Then the ke'lE came. "Have you not seen my little Hare?" — "Yes, I saw him. He climbed upwards straight to the zenith." — "Oh, how can I follow him there!" — "Well, mount upon my back, I will take you up!"

He carried the ke'lE upwards. After a long while he said, "Look down upon the earth! What size does it appear to be?" — "The size of a big lake!" — "Oh, let us fly still higher up!" They flew. "Look down again! What size has the earth now?" — "The size of a small lake." — "Oh, let us fly still higher up ! — Look down on the earth ! What size has it now?" — "The size of a spread tent-cover." — "Oh, let us fly still higher up! — What size has the earth now?" — "The size of a thong-seal hide!" — "Oh, let us fly still higher up! — What size has the earth now?" — "The size of a boot-sole (made of thong-seal hide)!" — "Oh, we are drawing near our destination now! — What size has the earth now?" — "The size of a patch (on the sole)." — "Oh, we have nearly reached our destination! — What size has the earth now?" — "The size of a worm-hole in a reindeer-skin." — "No earth, it has quite vanished." — "Ah, ah! I am so tired! I have lost all my strength. I have sprained my back." He dropped the ke'te. The ke'lE fell down. % He falls, he falls, he falls. At last he reached the earth, and entered the ground, head foremost, up to the waist. Then the Eagle said to the Hare, "Your tormentor is enfeebled. Have no fear, and go out ! Have a look at him !"

The Hare made a stone maul, and hurried to the ke'lE. The ke'lE's legs were protruding from the ground. He hammered him with the stone maul upon the soles, and drove him into the ground altogether. Since that time the ke'let have continued to move beneath, within the ground.

Told by Rike'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

3. Story of Raven and Wolverene

Once there lived Raven and Wolverene.[1] Wolverene took Raven's girl for a daughter-in-law. They ill-treated her, beat her all the time; then they tied her tongue with a thread, smeared her face all over with fish-roe, made her put on clothing of walrus-hide. They kept her with the dogs, and fed her like a dog, with bones crushed and boiled down to extract the marrow. She had to drink from a chamber-vessel.

Raven's son is a shaman. One morning he awoke, and said, "Oh, I see my sister in a bad state! They are treating her quite badly." — "Oh," says the Raven, "then let us go and visit her!" — "All right! Go and do so!" Raven came to the Wolverene's house. "You have come!" — "Yes, I have come. Where is the young woman?" — "Her eyes are troubling her. She is sitting in the dark sleeping-room, and cannot go out." — "Oh, oh!" In reality, however, she was there, clad in walrus-hide. He did not recognize her. In the sleeping-room, in the dark, a young Wolverene woman was sitting, a daughter of their own. "Oh, oh! that female slave, the loathsome one! Why is she staring so at you'? If she comes near you, strike her with a stick! She is stinking!" Indeed when she seeks to approach him, he strikes her with a stick. "Keep off, you stinking one!" They ate supper. She was given a blunt-edged knife, and could not keep up with the others. Her knife was almost edgeless. They say, "How slow she is, your meat-carver, that one who sits at your side! If she lags behind once more in

carving meat for you, strike her again and again !" She could not carve with that edgeless knife. So he struck her again with a stick, nor was he able to recognize her. They lay down to sleep. "Let her lie at your side, and let her carry the chamber-vessel for you! Only you must be careful of her. She is given to biting in the night-time. She always bites-, such is her wont. If she tries to bite you, strike her again with redoubled strength !" They slept. And really she took the father's hand and carried it to her mouth, in order to make him touch her tied tongue. He started up, and cried, "Oh, oh! Really she wants to bite." He struck her with redoubled force. He did not recognize his own daughter. In the morning he returned home. One more night has passed. In the morning his son got up, and said, "Oh, I see my sister in quite a bad state!" — "Let me visit her again!" — "No! This time I will visit her." He went to the Wolverenes. "You have come?" — "Yes, I have come." That one clad in walrus-hide is standing near the entrance. He looked, and recognized her, being a shaman. "That female slave, why is she staring so at the new-comer? Beat her with a stick!" — "For what shall I beat her? She also is curious to know. She wants to be with the other people." They ate supper. She was given the very worst knife. She could not carve meat with it. "How lazy she is! Strike her! She refuses to carve for you." — "For what shall I beat her? She needs a proper instrument for carving." And he gave her his own knife.

They went to sleep. She had to sleep again at his side. "Be careful! She bites in the night-time." — "Does she, eh?" — They put out the light. She took her brother's hand and put it into her mouth. He touched the string with which her tongue was tied. Then he took out another knife, a small one, and cut the thread.

It was so tight, it snapped on being cut. The people awoke. "What snapped with such force?" — "My belt snapped." They slept again. "Oh," says he softly to his sister, "thus they are treating you!" — "Yes!" — "Well, to-morrow morning, when I am about going away, be near my sledge." The next morning they brought his reindeer. "Why does my sister not come out of the sleeping-room? I am going, and want to see her." There in her sleeping-room sits their woman, feigning illness. They entered the sleeping-room as if to ask her. "No, she is unwell, she cannot go out." — "Tell her that I want to see her. Let her come out!" The people of the house entered the sleeping-room again. "No, she refuses. She cannot come out." — "Oh, how false are your words! Is not this my sister standing by the sledge?" She jumped upon the sledge. He made the reindeer run at full speed. They cry from behind, "Oh, oh! He has carried off our female slave, our household woman-worker!" He made the reindeer run. So he came home. "There," he says, "see what they have done with your daughter!" — "Oh," says the Raven, "and I did not recognize her." The young Raven-shaman called for his dog, and made him defecate. He turned the dog into a man, and the faeces into an infant. These two he made into a father with a little son. They were driving a spotted-reindeer team. Bells were on the sledge. Everything was quite neat, but it was only a dog with its fseces. The man drives on, singing. In the camp of the offenders they heard his song and the tinkling of the bells. "Oh, a good one is passing by! — a man from a wealthy camp." When they drew nearer to the camp, the infant cried. The women felt sorry. "Oh, stay for a while! The child is crying, — a motherless child. Probably the mother is dead." He came and stopped. "Who are you?" — "We are going to the spring fair. My people are coming behind." — "Oh, but where is your female companion?" — "She has been carried away by the Red Ke'lE (Small-Pox)." — "Oh, poor little child! Where shall we put it?" Whichever woman comes near, the infant cries still stronger. At last that one approached, the feigning one with the ailing eyes. The infant stretches out its hands toward her. "It is because her face has a likeness to that of its mother." — "Well, come in!" says the woman. They entered. "If I am like the mother, treat me as you treated her." He copulated with her. Then he turned into a dog, and they remained together as dogs do. He dragged her onward over stones and roots of trees, tore her body all to pieces. The infant turned into faeces. Only some excrement remained upon the bed. The end.

Told by A 8 'ttiqai, a Reindeer Chukchee man, in a camp near the village of A'con, April, 1901.

[1] This tale and the next one, though not exactly referring to the creation of the world, still belong to the Raven cycle: therefore I have placed them here.

4. Raven and Owl

Raven and Owl fought for a hare. Owl caught Raven by the throat with one of his claws. Raven cries, " Don't you dare to eat my hare ! I wish to eat it. I am the hunter," because he is so fond of big talking. Owl was silent, but he clutched Raven's throat so tightly that Raven gave way. Owl took the hare and wanted to eat it. Then a Fox assaulted him. The Fox cried, "I am a great hunter! I kill everything, even the mouse and the spermophylus." Owl was silent, and wanted to eat the hare. They fought. Fox bit Owl's back. He was the stronger of the two. Owl desisted and flew up. From mere shame he quite refused to perch again on that place. The silent one also was not a victor. The end.

Told by Raa'nau, a Maritime Chukchee man, in the village of MiVqAn, April, 1901.

II. Miscellaneous Tales

i. The Sacrifice to the Dead

There was a group of houses standing on the shore, — a long row of houses. One girl awoke early in the morning, and began to scrape skins. At last the sun rose, still no man left the sleeping-room. The sun mounted high, but nobody appeared. She says, "Where are they? I will go and see. What are they doing there?'' She looked in, and saw that all the people were lying down, as if asleep. They were dead, all of them. She alone, of the whole camp, was alive. Then she says, "What shall I do?" She went and carried water to all the houses, hung up the kettles, and cooked food. When the food was ready, she said, "There, eat!" She went home and lay down to sleep. As soon as she shut her eyes, she heard the voice of her father. She was not asleep, but only had her eyes shut. Her father was saying, "We are content that you have cooked food. To-morrow, when you get up and spend the day, do not go to sleep in the inner room, lie down in the outer tent. The next night take a place outside of the tent, then at a distance from the tent. For ten days keep moving your sleeping-place away until you reach the herd. There remain until the snow shall fall upon the earth. After that come here again and bring the herd — not all of it: bring the lesser portion. This must be given to us." She slept through the night. In the morning she again brought water and cooked food in all ten houses. She went to sleep in the outer tent. The next night she slept outside of the tent. Then she moved off, and at last came to the herd. The herdsmen asked, "What has happened?" — "All the people in the. houses are dead." — "Oh, oh!" — "We must not go home. Only when the first snow comes shall we go there." — "All right!" They remained with the herd. When snow fell and the ground was covered, they came nearer, and brought the herd — one part of it : the lesser portion they brought to the camp. The larger part was to become their own herd in the future. They slaughtered the reindeer that were brought, and offered them in sacrifice. They also left there the houses and everything that was in them. They took for themselves only the things in the summer pile. They left and went away. The end.

Told by Viye'nto the Blind, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

2. The Re'kkEn

There lived once a people that were Re'kkEn.[1] They were rich in reindeer and had a large herd. One of them wanted to visit men. He said to his wife, "Let us go toward men!" The weather was cold. The wife answered, "It is too cold (to travel)." He said, "That is nothing. Let us go, if we are really hunters ! Of course, we shall leave the herd and the herdsmen here, also the heavy tent. We shall go alone with a light tent to visit them." Then they went. The Upper Being[2] saw their moving train of sledges, which was very long. He said, "Oh, how wonderful! They are again at it! They are exterminating mankind. The people are all the time asking me for help, but still they are being exterminated. I am sorry for it. Therefore I want to give a lesson, at least to this one ; and so I want to make his mind broader than it is at present." He took his staff and went away. The Re'kkEn and his wife were sleeping while on the way. He came to a covered sledge and lifted the cover. A little infant was sleeping there, one year old, in a little cap. On the top of the cap was fastened a tassel made of human fingers. He touched the tassel with his staff. The fingers stuck to the staff. He drew the child out of the covered sledge, and took it away from there. He took it to his wife. "There, I have brought it." — "All right!" — "But what is to be done with it?" — "I do not know. I never had any children." — "I had better go to Killer-Whale.[3] Perhaps he knows." Killer-Whale and his wife live in a big stone house. They too are childless. The Upper Being came, put the child near the entrance, and then went away. After a while the husband said to the wife, "I want to make water. I will go out." He went out, and saw the infant. It was still sleeping. He was very glad. He called to his wife, " I have found an assistant ! We have an assistant ! Now we shall not be lonesome in our old age. Let us try and raise this child." — "All right!"

The ke'let are going back. They found people, killed many of them, and are carrying the game home. They arrived home. The tent was put up, and the woman started to put up the sleeping-room. The husband said, "I will look at the infant." He opened the covered sledge. Only then did they discover that it was not there. The husband said, "Halloo!" — "Halloo!" — "Where is the child? Have you carried it into the tent." — "No, it is in the sledge." — "I say it is not here!" — "Where is it, then? Perhaps the neighbors have taken it. But why should they take the infant child of other people? No, somebody else has played this trick upon us while we were sleeping. What for! Oh, oh!"

The woman sought the shaman. He was a Raven. The Raven asked, "Oh, oh, oh! who comes here?" — "It is I. My husband sends me. He says, 'I am feeling sad. Let the knowing-one comer" — "A-ta-ta-ta, I am coming !"

"There, you have come here!" — "Yes, I have come! What do you want?" — "Somebody has taken away the infant. Can you not find it?" — "All right! I will try." The Raven flew away to the house of Killer-Whale. "Halloo!" — "Halloo!" — "Who is there?" — "It is I. I come to fetch the infant." — "You shall not have it." — "Oh, give it back, since I come for it!" — "I shall not give it up." — "Oh, you will not?" The Raven flew upwards, and dropped on the house a big stone pillar (pe'rka-wu'kwulhin[4]). The stone pillar rebounded. The house of Killer-Whale was too strong. The Raven came back, and said, "I could not do it." — "Alas!" said the house-master, "if even you could not do it!"

The next day he says again to his wife, "I am feeling sad. Go and bring two Winds, — West-Wind, the cold one ; and East-Wind, the biting one." The two Wind-brothers came then. "What do you want?" — "Somebody has robbed me of my little infant. You are looking everywhere. Will you not look for it?" — "All right!" They went away. On the way they passed near by the house of the Upper Being. Says East-Wind, "Why are we passing by so? This is the Upper Being. Let us at least ask him too! What will he say? Halloo!" — "Halloo!" — "Well, a ke'te family have lost their little infant. They are living in sorrow. And we are looking for their child. Do you not know where it is ?" — " Oh, yes ! they are living in sorrow, and at the same time every year they go to the people and steal away so many ! Mankind is lessening in number. Let them learn that lesson. Still we shall go."

They arrived at Killer-Whale's house. "Halloo!" — "Halloo!" — "I came to get the child that I brought here lately." — "You shall not have it." — "How is it that I shall not have it, since I brought it myself? Give it back!" — "Ho, I will not. I will raise it for an assistant to myself." — "But how can you refuse, since you are my own creation? I gave to your eyes the faculty of seeing. How dare you refuse!" — "I do refuse." — "Oh, you refuse! — Enter, Winds!" Both winds entered Killer-Whale's house. It grew very cold. The Killer-Whales felt cold. Then they were frozen, and they died. After that he said to the Winds, "Now go out!" They went out. The house grew warmer, and the Killer-Whales returned to life again. "What now! will you give back the child?" — "Oh, yes! we will!" — "Then quick, make haste!" — "All right, in a moment!" — "There, take it, and give it to its parents !" From that time the ke'let stopped coming to this country.

Told by Viye'nto the Blind, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] Evil spirits (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 296). [2] Ibid., p. 323. [3] Ibid., p. 314. [4] For pe'rka-wu'kwulhin, cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 285.

3. (The Reindeer-Breeder and the Ai'wan.)

A wealthy reindeer-breeder lived on the seashore. He had no sons, but four daughters, who kept watch over the herd. He had two large herds, and two daughters as herdsmen in each herd. Nearest to him lived an Ai'wan, in a permanent settlement, — a wicked old man, a doer of violence, — because he had five sons. He said to his eldest son, "Go and ask for one of the girls in marriage 5 and if they refuse, we will take one of their herds." After a while he himself went over to his reindeer-breeding neighbor, and spoke thus: "Well, then, we are neighbors. For quite a long time we have talked to each other. You get your food from your herd, your source of life, and I get mine from man's exertions." — "Yes, that is so!" says the reindeer-breeder. "Would it not, then, be better for us to join forces? You could give over one of your sources of life to your daughter, and keep the other one for yourself." — "All right! I consent." — "You could wander with the reindeer, and some of us would help you. And the others would also stay on the seashore, subsisting on sea-meat. My eldest son and I — we should wander inland along with you, and for the summer-time we should come back to the seashore. If we feel dull, we might visit each other, tasting new food in common." — "All right!" said the reindeer-breeder. He listened to the Aswan's words, and consented to act according to his offer. Therefore he gave his youngest daughter in marriage to the Aswan's son, along with one herd. Spring came. The reindeer-breeder went away, and the son-in-law remained behind. Then the snow melted, and summer came. The son of the Ai'wan says, "A reindeer-herd is a bad thing. I do not want it. I can live by hunting, killing walrus and whale. Hunting is a joyful pursuit." Therefore with the first snow he wanted to visit the village, and went there, taking the herd along. When he was near the village, he cried, "Oh, tie up the dogs ! The herd is coming !" Then the herd also, that was a little behind, came to the village. He said, "Let us slaughter the whole herd! I do not want it. Slaughter the driving-reindeer while still in harness ! Let us eat meat !" They began slaughtering. The driving-reindeer were stabbed while still in harness. The ground grew all red with blood. At last they had enough, and cried, "Give a part of this meat to the poor, to those who are starving!"

The woman was sorrowful on account of the herd. Her sisters-in-law took her handsome clothes made of spotted fawn-skins from her. These clothes they put on themselves, and had her clothed in old bad hairless seal-skin. At last she could not suffer it any longer, and left the village by night, taking with her a single reindeer, one of her own driving-team, — a single one, that had escaped being butchered. She led it along behind her, having no sledge to drive. It was midwinter, cold and dreary. Travelling was hard, and the snow heavy. Dawn came, and the sun rose. It grew light around her, though the walking was not easier than before. She moved on, leading her reindeer, and plodding through the snow; but in reality she was ascending skywards along a ray of light, because the Upper Being, the Being of the Reindeer people, saw her and knew all about her. His compassion toward the reindeer was very great, because they were slaughtered ; and it was his intention to cheer her up after her loss. So she was walking upon the ground under the thick-falling snow, but was moving skyward, though she did not notice it. She was tired and cold, since food there was none, and her clothes were very poor. At last the reindeer spoke in human language. It exclaimed, "Halloo!" She answered, "Halloo!" — "You are quite tired. Mount, at least, upon my back ! I will carry you a little onward. I feel sorry for you." She mounted the reindeer, and after a while felt still colder, and also more fatigued and hungry. The reindeer stopped, and scraped the snow with its hoof, as if preparing a place for camping. Then it says, "Halloo!" She answers, "Halloo!" — "At least, eat something! and you will be warmer." She looked down, and saw upon the snow a round place scraped bare. There upon the ground lay something like boiled meat. She ate of it, and felt warm. Then she looked ahead of her, and saw a reindeer-herd. Looking still more attentively, she recognized the reindeer. They were those of her father. Some spotted ones she recognized as her own reindeer. All these were the sacrificed reindeer, those given away, which after that became the reindeer of the Upper Being. Then at last she said, "Whose reindeer are these? They look like the reindeer of my father, but whose camp may this be?" And this was the camp of the Upper Being, of the Deity of the Reindeer people. The Old Being is in his house. His appearance is different from that of men. He has ears on his temples, a big nose, and a broad mouth across his whole face. He says to his daughter, "What kind of a woman is staying there on the outskirts of our camp? Why does she not come over here and enter? Who knows? Perhaps it is the same poor thing whose herd was slaughtered of late by the Ai'wanat, the sedentary dwellers. I saw how the ground grew red with blood. This was a great pity. Go and call her to come along." The daughter of the Upper Being came to the woman, and said, "Friend, why do you not come to the house? Father bade me call you there."

" Well, well ! we are entering," cried the girl. The Upper Being looked upon the woman and waved his hand. Even a tear rose to his eye. "Oh, then it is really you ! Your poor herd ! — But why did your father, being a reindeer-breeder, listen to the words of a sedentary Ai'wan? Oh, how badly they acted toward you!" He drew from the floor near his seat a big stopper. A round hole was revealed in the floor. "Here! look down!" She looked down, and there was her father's house. He made her descend through that hole. She walked along, leading her single reindeer. The reindeer spoke again, and said, "When you arrive home, do not accept anointing with blood from their reindeer. Anoint yourself from your own reindeer!" They reached the camp early in the morning. The people in the tents were still sleeping. She sat upon a sledge. She sang aloud, but did not enter the tent. Her mother awoke. "Oh, oh! Why is it that the herdsmen in the herd are so heedless? They yell their songs so loudly, that even here in the camp we cannot sleep." Then she said to a second daughter, "Go out and see what it is! Why are they singing the tunes of that one, the deceased one?" For the Ai'wanat have said that she is dead. At the first meeting they declared that she was gone, and, besides, had taken all the herd. They said that the herd was visited by lameness, became greatly reduced, and then was gone altogether, even to the last reindeer. The daughter went out and looked on. "Who are you, sitting here, clad in old seal-skin? Where do you come from?" — "Where do I come from ! After you gave me away to the Ai'wanat, you soon forgot me. You have not even thought of paying me a visit : so I have come to you on a visit." And really how could they have visited her, since the Ai'wanat declared that she was dead? The girl rushed back into the sleeping-room. "Oh," says she, "she is here!" As soon as the father heard it, he jumped out quite naked. "Oh, oh, here you are!" They were quite glad, and laughed all the time. She said, "Do not bring the herd for the anointing-sacrifice. I will anoint from my own reindeer." So they lived on.

In the mean time her recent husband, the Ai'wan, the old man's son, the violence-doer, the slaughterer of reindeer, wanted to visit an island in the bay. He said, "I will go by canoe, taking my long harpoon with me, and maybe I shall land there and stay there for a while." He paddled off, and on the way saw a whale, a very big one. He was going to throw his harpoon at the whale; but the whale drew a breath and pulled him in, and he was soon in the whale's inside, in complete darkness. Oh, it is bad there ! He hardly keeps alive, slicing the whale's intestines with his knife, and eating them raw. He defecates also. The bowels of the whale are all covered with filth. The whale rushes from place to place. It is suffering acute pain. Its interior is being cut up. At last the whale died. The wind bore it away to the open sea. It was carried to and fro all the way around the land where live the Ai'wanat, and then it was stranded on the very shore where that reindeer-breeder took up his abode. Then the Ai'wan cut through one of the whale's sides with his knife, and at last got out of it. He looked before him and recognized the houses. "Well," says he in his mind, "what will they do to me when she is dead? Anyway, I am now on firm ground." He walked to the tents. Then he said to the old man, "I was swallowed by a whale, and now I have landed here. I said before, 'At least, here are some strangers' houses, and these are our houses.' What though she was struck down by disease and then died, and even took along the herd with her, and it has been reduced by lameness and then destroyed! Notwithstanding all this, I am still yours, as before."

The old man said, "All right! Come in!" He entered the house. The woman concealed herself for a while. They had a meal. All at once the woman appeared. "Here you are, you violence-doer! You slaughtered all my herd quite wantonly. I shall also try to do violence." They caught him, the women only, tore the clothes from his back, pinioned him. Then they cut off all the flesh from his bones, slice by slice. He was still alive. Gradually he lost his force, and died. The end.

Told by Viye'nto the Blind, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

4. (The Orphan.)

The parents[1] of an only daughter, being very old, are living with her. The daughter, who is very able-bodied, goes hunting, and brings home wild reindeer. At the same time she refuses all suitors. No matter how many suitors come, and they are many, she invites them to have a running-match. Leaving them behind, she says, "There is no need of them. They are bad." Altogether, she is too light-footed for them. An orphan boy, clad in dog-skin, born from a dog-woman, lives with an old woman, and grows up very fast. He made a small bow. With this bow he kills small birds. With these birds he feeds the old woman. But every time the neighbors' children meet him, they shout, "Oh, oh! it stuck in his teeth! (i.e., the meat of the small birds). They notice the meat sticking in his teeth, and pick it out from there.

He made dead-falls, caught hares, and fed the old woman. Meanwhile he grew up quickly, and soon became full-grown. Then he caught wild reindeer. The old woman said, "When will you become a full-grown man? Begone, and look for a wife!" — "All right!" He came to the people with an only daughter. "For what do you come?" — "I come looking for a bride!" — "It is useless. She will leave you behind." — "No, I am able (to outrun her)." — "Then wait a while. She is not here. She will come in the evening." In the evening she did come, and brought a reindeer-carcass. "Oh," say the old people, "one more suitor has come!" — "I do not want him. Let him go away!" — "Why so? I have come to you with an honest heart." — "Well, then, to-morrow morning we will see what sort of a man you are." — "Very well ! I shall win. I shall take you for a wife." The next morning they awoke before daybreak. They started running. They were to mount a high hill on their way, then to come back. The girl put on her racing-dress, but the young man put on his armor. The girl runs far ahead, because she is very swift; but when halfway along, he began to catch up with her, this small orphan boy clad in dog-skin. She was tired from the exertion. Then he passed her, brushing her on the way with the wind from the skirt of his armor.[2] She staggered and sat down. He said, "Eh, eh! let her rest a while ! — I will finish the hill alone. Yes, surely, I am able (to do it). When I show myself on the top, coming back, then you begin again." Indeed, when he appeared on the top, she jumped up and ran ahead. With fresh energy she ran very fast, but the young man ran still faster. He overtook her halfway, caught her in his arms, and carried her onwards. He carried her thus toward her house, put her into the sleeping-room, and copulated with her. So he made her his wife. The end.

Told by Rike'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] A similar tale was collected among the Kolyma Chukchee (cf. Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 250). [2] The lower part of the Chukchee armor is similar in form to a skirt. Sometimes it hangs down more or less loose (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 161). The swiftness of the young man must have been very great, since the movement of that heavy armor produced wind.

5. (Story of Object-of-Loathing.)

Object-of-Loathing (Ekirka'irgin) lives with his uncle. He stays with the herd. All the time he is busy with the reindeer; but his uncle chides him, saying, "You good-for-nothing !" He is alone with the herd, — the only herdsman. One time, while he was with the herd, some people came, driving reindeer. They were Wolves. They said, "We want to slaughter reindeer." — "Oh, how can I do the slaughtering? I am afraid of my uncle." — "Why are you afraid? This is your herd. You are the sole herdsman." — "No! I am afraid!" Notwithstanding, they slaughtered reindeer, and carried them away on their sledges. He went home, and on the way he met a person clad in white . skin. It was a Polar Bear. The Polar Bear said, "If you slaughter reindeer for strange people, then better go away and look for a wife. Over there lives a wealthy reindeer-breeder. You might try for his daughter."

Object-of-Loathing went there. He gathered a sledgeful of fuel, — a very large sledge, so large that he was not able to haul it along. Then the Wolves came, a number of them. They said, "We will attach ourselves to the sledge, and haul it along." So they did. "Sit down," they said. He sat down, but they trotted on. They came to the camp of the rich reindeer-breeder. The one clad in white skin said to him beforehand, "When they go to sleep, catch the youngest girl, that one in the corner."

They went to sleep. Then he caught the youngest girl, that one in the 1 The lower part of the Chukchee armor is similar in form to a skirt. Sometimes it hangs down more or less loose (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 161). The swiftness of the young man must have been very great, since the movement of that heavy armor produced wind.

corner. She cried aloud, "Oh, oh! What is he doing? He caught me!" The master of the house awoke. He said, "What noise is this? You have wakened me, you scamps ! This loathsome new-comer, why is he making trouble? — There, you, give me a stick!" He caught hold of the wooden handle of a scraper and rushed at those who were quarrelling; but before he had time to strike, the whole sleeping-room filled with wolves. They howled all around. All the people, in utmost fear,[1] rushed out quite naked, the house-master still with a stick in his hand. They fled to the neighboring house. Meanwhile he took the girl and carried her to his home. The next morning the father-in-law sends for Object-of-Loathing in soft and pleasing words: "Let him come and visit me!" The reindeer-herd was brought. It was a large herd. "Cut it in two!" It was cut in halves. "There, take one half!" Object-of-Loathing took the wife and the herd. He settled separately, established his own camp, and lived there. The end.

Told by Rike'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] Em-yi'mgumga, in fear before supernatural things; for instance, before spirits, the dead, etc. This is a special term for such kind of fear.

6. (The Visitor.)

Two men lived as neighbors in the same camp. One had a number of children. They remained for a long time in the country Ve'qan, but saw no wild reindeer there. They were without (food). They lived on a few stray ptarmigan, and were nearly starving. The Reindeer people from Ye'lkan did not come there this year for pasturage : so the whole autumn they had no "genuine food" (i.e., reindeer-meat). They suffered from hunger, and were starving. Then one of the men said to the other, "Let us go and look for other people! Where do they dwell?" They went afoot, because they had no dogs. The last one was eaten a long time ago. The one who had children, made a small covered sledge, and, together with his wife, they dragged it along. After a while both men said, " Let us separate ! I will go to the right, and you go to the left." So they separated. The one who had children went to the left, dragging his covered sledge. It was growing dark. He said to his wife, "Stay here and wait for me. I will go a little farther on." He put his wife and children into the covered sledge, heaped snow around the sledge, so that they would be warm, then he went along. It grew quite dark. Then he saw a herd. It was very large, and spread around like water, — big-antlered bucks, spotted fawns. The herdsmen asked him, "Where do you come from?" — "We come from afar. We lived there quite alone, and were nearly starved because the Reindeer people had not come that way." — "Oh, oh! you are alone?" — "No, I have a family. I

left them behind. I put them in a covered sledge, and heaped snow around it so that they would be warm." — "Ah, ah! So they will come to-morrow!"

— "Oh, yes! I shall bring them myself, dragging the sledge. It is quite near." — "Oh, well! let it be to-morrow. It is too dark to go now. As to the houses, they are also near. You would see them from here, like black dots under the snow-covered cliff, if it were not too dark now. So it is settled for the morning. Let us go, then, to the houses !" They came to the camp. An old man from the front house heard them coming. "Oh, oh ! a guest ! Where do you come from ?" — "I come from afar. We lived in the country Ve'qan, and were nearly starved. So we started on foot to look for other people." — "Ah, ah! You there, in the outer tent! cook intestines, cook fat meat! We will feed the new-comer." They ate. "Have you any companions?" — "Yes, I did have. I left them behind in a covered sledge. I heaped snow around it, so that they would be warm." — "Oh, well! It is too late now. Let it be to-morrow." — "Yes, yes! I will bring them myself." — "Nay, they shall be brought with a good driving-team." In the morning he drove there with the reindeer of the old man. "Halloo!" No answer. "Halloo!" louder than before. Then the woman heard, and answered, "Halloo!" — "Are you alive?" — "Yes, we are; but the smallest one, the suckling, has died." — "Oh, oh! What can we do!" They went to the camp. "There, there!" A sleeping-room is put up for them, and new bed-skins are spread on the floor. "This is your sleeping-room. You may live in it." They remained in the camp. One day they went for a visit to a neighbor. The neighbor said to the new-comer, " Where do you live ?" — "Where can I live? I live with those to whom I came first." — "Well, of course, they took you in, but this will last only for a time. Then the old man will send you away." — "Oh, oh! What am I to do?" — "Come over .to me! You shall be my camp-assistant." — "Oh, oh! how can I leave? What can I say to them? I came to their camp first." — "Well, then, if you want me to, I will go there myself and take you and your family away."

— "All right! Do come! Or, still better, let us go directly there, and settle the affair at once!" They went to the camp. The old man said, "You have come back!" — "Oh, yes! but we are going to leave. This one has come to take us away!" — "So! But why did you not go 'to him in the beginning? You came to me first of all. All right! Go away! Begone! Hurry up!"

They left. A moon passed by, and a new moon rose. The neighbors came to settle the offence. They said, "Let us arrange a running-match! We will see then who is really the best man." — "All right!" They arranged a running-match, and as a prize for the winner they set a fox-skin and a beaver-skin. They started. The poor one, the pedestrian, who for a long time had been used to going on foot, ran along quite lightly, hardly touching the ground with his feet. He ran and ran; and in a short time he outran all the others, and vanished from view. In due time he took the hill (as agreed upon), and then came back. But then the others were still out of sight, to such an extent did he outrun them all. He waited for them some time, but at last felt cold and entered the sleeping-room. At last they came far behind. All the people felt ashamed, because they were such poor runners. They had no desire to enter the sleeping-room ; so they harnessed their reindeer, and attached them to the sledges. Then all the visitors left. The next morning the others also left. He was left quite alone, in the country. The end.

Told by Rike'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

7. (The Polygamist.)

There lived a polygamist (li'milin). He had two wives. By the older wife he had two daughters; by the younger, no children at all. Still he loved the younger wife best. The elder one he did not love at all. One time, at a thanksgiving ceremonial, both women danced. The man with his drum was dancing too. He struck the older wife in the face. She grew angry and went away to the seashore. The ice-floe was separated from the shore by a narrow crack. She jumped over, although she had not even put on her upper garment. The ice was carried away far into the open sea, and at last reached another land. She landed close to a rock, which was quite steep. All the time she was thinking, "Oh, I have left my two daughters behind me! I made them miserable orphans. From now on they will be badly dressed, clad in worn-out skins, wronged by everybody." She saw a man upon the rock. He was very large and tall. He was Sun-Man (T£rka 8/ - la'ul). His shirt had a hood. The hood was drawn over his face, and the sleeves were drawn over his hands. Still he was full of light, and his head was encircled by a halo. She said to herself, "It seems, he wants to kill me. All right ! Let him kill me ! My life is a torment to me." He answered from beneath his hood, "Why should I kill you? On the contrary, I pity you. Therefore I made you come to this land of mine, for you have not come by accident, and still less by your own will. I led you here unbeknown to you." He took her hand and helped her up the rock. There she saw a large house. It was resplendent with light, and the sleeping-room was aglow with brightness. On both sides of the sleeping-room there were round vessels filled with food. Some contained boiled meat, others were full of tallow, others again were filled with fermented leaves, and some were empty. He said, "All these are sacrificial vessels. The people gave them to me, and some who wanted to cheat me gave me empty vessels. I took everything, as I never refuse a sacrifice. " They lived together. They brought forth a son, then two children more. After a time Sun-Man said, "Well, now, we are from different lands ; and you are not homeless, you have your own native country. So go back to your country ! Take your children along. On the way you shall not starve. I will procure food for you, also a shelter wherein to rest by night. So far I have made you secure."

He cut small pieces from his outer tent, also from the sleeping-room, and from every bag of provisions. These pieces he handed over to her, and said, "Put them down into a mitten. Then you may go." He made her descend along a sun-ray, because they were in the upper world. She thought it was a steep rock, but in reality it: was a separate world. She came to the earth. Then she took those pieces out of the mitten and spat upon them. A house was created there, standing upon the shore, not worse than that of the Sun-Man, with bags full of meat, and with various kinds of food. She lived there. Two young girls were walking on the beach, gathering seaweed. "Oh, oh! What girls are those? Are they not daughters of mine? How poorly clad they are! How thinly dressed!" She called them in, and saw that they were really her daughters. "Oh, oh! I am not dead. I am your mother. I have come back to you P She gave them pretty clothes of spotted fawn-skins. Then they went home, and she went along with them. Their step-mother and her husband were sitting in the sleeping-room. "Where is your seaweed?" The girls did not answer, as if hearing nothing. "Why do you not answer?" Then at last they flung the seaweed into the sleeping-room. Their step-mother sprang out. "Why do they fling things like that?" She saw their pretty clothes. "Where did they get such clothes? Let me follow them." She followed them, and came to that house. She saw that it was very large, and filled with all kinds of provisions. Then she envied them that were having their meals in that house. The end.

Told by Nuwa't, a Reindeer Chukchee man, in the camp near the village Mi'sqAn, April, 1901.*

8. (The Giant.)

Once there lived eight brothers.[1] Seven of them paddled off in a skin boat. The eighth and youngest one staid at home. He went angling. Lo'lhilin, the big man, passed by, and caught him up. He said, "I will carry this home as a toy for my children." He carried him upoii his palm, and tossed him over to his wife. "There, here is a toy for our children!" And at the same time it is a man. The children played with the living toy, and fed it with their food. So the man began to grow, attained their size, and became a Lo'lhilin. The brothers landed, and looked around for him. They could not find him, and called out his name. Then he came, took them up, boat and all, and put all this high up on a cliff. Even now they are still there.

Told by I'rmi, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] I obtained this tale in the Chukchee language from a man who from his early youth lived with the Eskimo just as much as with the Chukchee. He said that the tale is of Eskimo (Ai'wan) origin. It is difficult, however, to separate folk-lore originally Chukchee from that of Asiatic Eskimo provenience.

9. (Sacrifice to the Sea.)

There lived one time a Maritime man. He had eight children. The youngest was a girl. One day he went to hunt walrus. A storm came up, and he was carried out to sea. He was tossed about and nearly drowned. Then he said to the sea, "Oh sea! calm yourself! Do so, that I may still look upon the world! I will give you the best that I have, the nearest to my heart, the foremost dog, the leader of the team, one with a spotted skin I will give you." The sea did not calm itself. "Oh, then, my youngest daughter, unmarried, a good one, clad in spotted skins! I will give her to you!" After that the sea smoothed down. He landed on the shore. Then he went up the shore, and entered the house. All the children were with him except the daughter, who still remained on the shore. The mother came out from the house. "Oh, oh, my child! you have roughed the storm!" She was quite sad. She looked down at the ground, and said, "Yes!" — "Come in, change your clothes, put on some dry ones." She entered, downcast, as before. Just as she changed her clothes, the father entered. He took her by the hand, took his spear, and went to the seashore. Then he turned to the sea, and said, "O sea! do not be angry. That which I promised, I give you now." He pierced her with the spear, and left the body lying there on the shore. An abundance of blood covered the whole beach. It grew dark. She is lying on the sand lifeless. A certain man, a kind of Sea-Being (A'nqa-va'irgm[1]) came to her and pushed her lightly with his toe. "Halloo! Get up! Let us go home!" Then after a little while, again, "Halloo! Get up! Let us go home!" At last she awoke and sat up: " Egegegegei'. I have slept quite long." He took her to his house and married her. They lived quite well and contented. They had a large reindeer-herd.

The daughter, of course, did not return home. Since the father said nothing, her mother thought, "Let me go and look for her! Where may she be?" She arrived at the place. The blood-stains were on the ground, but the body had disappeared. She found and followed some footprints along the seashore. At last she came to a cliff. The tracks ran upward to the very top. She climbed up, and found a settlement on the very top. Her daughter was busy scraping skins. "Oh, it is here you are staying?" — "Yes." She lived for some time with her daughter; then the daughter said, "Go and fetch father. I should like to see him also." The old man was brought and pampered with food. The next morning the sea was rough again. She said to her father, "Let us go and have a look at the sea!" They went to the very edge of the cliff. She said to him, "Look down upon the sea ! How rough it is again !" He looked down upon the sea. She pushed him from behind, and he fell down, broke his back, and was taken by the sea. The end.

Told by Ai'wan, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] Compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 315.

10. (The Monster-Woman.)

A man who had a wife went to hunt wild reindeer. He walked around all day, and could not find anything. Evening came. He felt cold. His house was too far away. So he thought, "Where shall I find a suitable place for the night? There is no fuel, nor a human dwelling." At last he saw traces of a sledge. He followed these. The trail became harder. A dog barked. He saw an underground house. A woman is cooking seal-meat over a lamp, — a strange-looking woman, with one eye in her forehead and her mouth quite big and all awry, still a stout person, with large breasts. She said, "All right! Till now I have not seen a man. Now I have found a husband." He thinks, "Certainly, she is plump and full-breasted, but her face looks too strange. I will not marry her." They ate supper, then the lamp was put out. The woman moves toward him, he moves away. They reached the corner. "Sleep with me!" — "No, I refuse!" — "Yes, do sleep with me!" He listens. Something in her body is grinding its teeth like a dog. "I say, sleep with me!" — "No, I am tired. Let it be to-morrow morning." — "Well! Then at least louse me." She lighted the lamp again. He loused her, and made her sleep on his lap. He thinks, "What is it in her body that grinds its teeth like a dog? Let me have a look at it." He looked, and saw that she had plenty of teeth there, as in a wolf's mouth. "Oh, oh!" says he. He crept out noiselessly. The seashore was full of stones. He took two stones, long and round, of just the size of the membrum virile. Then he went back into the sleeping-room and fell asleep. In the morning she wakened him. "Oh, get up! Make me a wife! Copulate with me!" — "All right!" he says. One of the stones he put between his legs and thrust it into her vulva. Oh, it clashed and ground the teeth. He tore it out. Almost all the teeth were sticking in the stone. Then he used the other one, and drew it back, together with the membrane in which grew the roots of the teeth. Then her vulva became like any woman's. "Well," he said, now let us try!" He put his own membrum in there and copulated with her one time and another. She became quite peaceful. He took her home and made her a house-slave.

Told by Enmu'wgi, a Maritime Chukchee man, in the village Uni'sak, at Indian Point, May, 1901.

11. (Reindeer-Born.)

There was f an old man who had a large herd. He had also six sons, who kept watch over the herd by night and day. One day a tumor began to grow upon the neck of the largest buck. This tumor grew larger and larger, and after nine days it burst, and a little infant dropped down from it. It was a boy in a combination-suit, with a diaper, who was already walking. The elder son said, "This is a strange reindeer! Let us slaughter it! And the boy is also strange. No need of him ! Let us kill him too !" The old man retorted, " Why do you want to kill him ? Maybe he is the real master[1] of the herd. It is sinful to kill him. Also the large buck may still look (i. e., may still be living)." — "All right!" They took the boy home. In the evening there came a storm. The eldest son went to the herd for his night watch. The infant meanwhile exterminated the whole family. He was a ke'lE. Then he rushed toward the herd. The herdsman heard the clattering of his feet, and turned back. He saw him coming, but this one did not notice him. He was looking only at the reindeer. Every reindeer that he could overtake, he would immediately swallow, and run for another one.

"Oh," says the herdsman, "is this the real master of the herd? he destroys the whole herd. Oh, the father! I should like to talk with him now."

Meanwhile the pursuing one was drawing nearer. He had already swallowed quite a number of reindeer. The herdsman thought, "Let me leave the herd and go away. No need of this master for me!" He left the herd and fled across the tundra. On the other end of the pasture-land there was a large tree. He climbed to the top, reached the very tip, then dropped from it upwards, not downwards. Thus he reached the country where dwelled his Being (va'irgin), his own Sacrifice-receiving Being of his.

He came to a camp. A single large house was standing there. A single Woman was living in it, old enough, but healthy and strong. She was in looks similar to a young one. Men there were none. The woman was sitting and carefully patching one of her fur stockings. "Oh, oh! a guest!" — "Yes, I am a guest!" — "Where do you come from?" — "Oh, I came from afar. I am from the people of the lower space." — "And where is your house?" — "I have no house. I have no kinsmen. I am tramping around aimlessly." — "Well, since you have brought sacrifices to me for a long time, so that I have become rich through you; and, moreover, as men there are none here, and the house lacks a master; and since, living without a husband, I feel quite dull, — if you want to, you may marry me, and be master of the house." He married her, and they lived on. Their herd was quite large. The woman was a fat one, with a large broad pelvis, good for sleeping with, a skilful seamstress, one who kept the whole house in the best of order. After some time, the man, however, began to feel dull. He thought of his former country, of the herd, the family, his father and brothers. "Oh, if I could only have a look upon all this!" The woman says, "Why are you so sad? What are you thinking about?" — "Nothing," he answered. The woman, however, said, "I understand you quite well. You are sad because you think, 'Oh, if I could see once more my old house and family, the country and the herd P Well, I am not going to stand in your way. Go and visit them ! I won't be angry with you for that!" He sprang up. "Oh, yes, yes!" She said again, "Here, take; it! This is my reindeer with many legs, — a reindeer for flight, for an emergency. Drive it there! If anybody should pursue you, cut off one of its legs, and throw it away. If he should continue to pursue you, cut off another leg; and go on doing so until the reindeer has but four legs left. Then if he should still pursue you, kill the reindeer, leave it behind, and flee."

He descended to earth directly toward his own tent. He tethered the reindeer, and looked into the tent through a little hole. That infant was sitting in the house. He made a large fire, and cut off one of his own legs. He roasted that over the fire. He was slicing off the roasted crust of the meat and swallowing it piece by piece. All at once he turned his head and saw the new-comer, who was looking through the hole. "Oh, oh! you have come!" — "Yes, I have come." — "Well, then, come in!" — "Where are the other people?" — "They are among the herd." Thus the ke'lE deceives him. The man brought with him a quantity of food. They ate together. "Oh," says the ke'lE, "now I feel sleepy!" — "All right! Then let me louse you in your sleep!" He loused him and put him fast asleep. After that he looked around in the tent, and saw in the corner some old human bones. "Oh," said he, "let me rather flee from here!" He took off his outer garment, filled it with ashes, and hung it up on a cross-pole just above the hearth. After that he fled. The ke'lE awoke and again felt hunger. "Where has he vanished to, this one?" And he looked around, then upwards. He saw something big hanging down. He caught his knife, then opened his mouth, and threw the knife upwards at the hanging thing. But instead of fresh blood, a shower of ashes fell down, filled his mouth, and got into his eyes. "Oh," said he, "what a scamp! I will pursue him!"

When he was quite near, the man cut off one leg of his reindeer and threw it down; while the ke'lE was eating it, he fled farther on, then he cut off another leg; and so on till the reindeer had but four legs, as ordinary reindeer. The ke'lE again drew quite near, so he killed the reindeer. While the ke'lE was eating it, he reached the tree from which he had ascended before, and climbed to its top. The ke'lE came to the tree, and, instead of climbing it, he began to gnaw through it, and penetrated into the interior of it. There he was gradually ascending from below upwards.

A small bird was chirping on a bough, "Picnic, pici'k!" — "O bird! help me in my need! My murderer is coming up!" — "Ah, ah! Pici'k, pici'k!" Two big wolves are coming. They asked the bird, "What do you want?" — "Oh, oh, this* master of mine wants help! His murderer is approaching." — "Where is he?" — "In the inside of the tree." — "Ah, well, when we shall fight with him, and the blood shall flow in streams, look carefully at the color of the blood. Should the blood be red, then it is ours, and you may say, 'I am going to die.' Should the blood be dark, then say, 'Ah, ah! They are killing him at last.'" They penetrated into the tree, caught the murderer, and a fight began. Oh, what a clatter, noise, grinding of teeth! Then some blood oozed out. It was red. "Oh," said he, "then I am going to die!" After a while a big stream of black blood rushed down, large as a torrent. "Oh," said he, "I am glad! My murderer is near his end!" The Wolves came out, and said, "Well, we have killed your enemy at last."

He returned to his house of the upper country, and lived there with his wife and herd.

Told by Viye'nto the Blind, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] That is, the protecting-genius of the herd.

(Another Version.)

Two people are living, a man and a wife. They bring forth children ; but their children fare very badly, because, before having hair on their testicles, they die. The woman is with child and is delivered, but the children die one after another. The old man says, "Oh, it is bad! I will go to the herd and look among the reindeer (for a remedy)." He reached the herd, and saw that one of the reindeer-bucks had a tumor on his neck. Every day this tumor grows larger. At last it ripened and became quite big. Then it burst, and a small boy dropped out of it. The old man took him and carried him to his wife. He said to her, "Give him the breast!" She suckled the boy, because her breasts were just with milk. He grew up soon, and began to go to the herd to keep watch over it. One time, coming back from the herd, he said, "Some of the reindeer are lost!" — "Oh, where are they?" — "I do not know. I looked for them, but I could not find them." The next day some of the reindeer were lost again. On the following day the same was repeated. The old man said, " Oh, it is strange ! Where do these reindeer go?" He quietly followed the son; and when they reached the herd, he saw that his son was destroying reindeer. He would catch a reindeer, put it into his mouth, and swallow it at once. The old man went back to his wife. He said to her, "Oh, it is very strange! Our little son from the reindeer-tumor is destroying the herd. He catches reindeer and swallows them. 71 They felt afraid, and fled. On their way they met a large Thunder-Bird. "What do you want?" — "We have fared badly. The boy born from a reindeer-tumor is destroying all our herd." — "Is that so? Well, enter here!* — "Where?" — "Here!" The* Thunder-Bird opened his mouth. "Come in!" They entered. In the bird's interior they found a house, with a lamp and other necessaries. They lived there, and brought forth three sons. Thenceforward their children did not die. One time the old man said, "Let me go and look at our former house!" He went out and crept softly towards the house. There was no house. The boy had eaten up all the covering from the poles. He was looking around and muttering, "Where are those that were destined for my food?" Oh, the old man fled, frightened! All at once the boy scented him. He rushed onward, following the scent. He came to the Thunder-Bird, and said, "Where have you put those people that are destined for my food?" — "They are here!" — "Let them out!" — "No, it is shameful, since they are my guests. I cannot deliver them." — "Oh, I am hungry! Which way have they taken?" — "This way!" The Thunder-Bird opened his mouth, the ke'lE plunged in, but the Thunder-Bird caught him with his beak, and crushed him to pieces. "Well, come out! Your enemy is destroyed. . . . Go home and do not grieve about your herd. You shall have a herd." They went away, being five of them, together with their sons. The old man gathered reindeer-excrement and piled it up in one place. After five days he visited it. It had turned into a large herd. They lived, and bred reindeer. Soon they became a large settlement. All the time they were bringing forth children. The end.

Told by U'ttiqai, a Reindeer Chukchee man, in a camp on the Opu'ka River, near the Koryak Frontier, February, 1901.

12. Tale about Qolento'

Qol&nto'.

Near the village Nuna s/ mun in a place called Ci'ni, an orphan boy lived with his aged grandmother. The boy was all covered with scabs, and so weak was he that he could hardly move about. The grandmother was unable to get much food. So they suffered great hunger. One time the boy was sitting alone in the sleeping-room in utter darkness. Then he heard a voice, "Egegegegei'." A ke'lE came to him in the darkness. "Oh, I have come! Egegegegei' !" and still louder, "Egegegegei'." — "Ah, ah! What is coming there? Is the (Spirit of) Epilepsy coming?" — "No, I am riot coming to strike you down with epilepsy. I come through compassion for you. Why are you lying thus?" — "I am unwell." — "Oh, indeed ! Have you eaten anything to-day?" — "Nothing at all." — "There, eat that!" The boy stretched out his hand in the darkness, and there was in it a little piece of dried meat. He put it into his mouth and began to chew. The meat in his mouth gradually grew larger. He swallowed, but still his mouth was full. He ate and ate, and his belly became full. When he wanted no more, the food vanished. "Well, then, go across the sea and take the pretty young wife from the bad murderous ke'lE who is living there. Take your eight uncles as paddlers in the boat." Indeed, the grandmother had a younger brother, who lived in Nuna 8/ mun, and who had eight sons. "But they will not go." — "Send your grandmother to Nuna 8/ mun : they will obey. Now I am going. Brrr!"[1] The ke'lE went out. He was still lying in the darkness. The old grandmother came home. "Oh, oh, I am so tired!. I am hardly able to procure food at my age. Well, I have brought some few scraps. Here, eat!" — "No." — "What is the matter with you? Are you dying?" — "No." — "Then what is the matter?" — "I have had enough." — "What have you had?" — "Oh, cease! I want to send you to Nuna 8/ mun, that you may call my eight uncle? as boat-paddlers on a journey of mine." — "Where are you going?" — "I am going to get the pretty young wife of the old ke'lE, who lives across the sea." — "Oh, you shall not!" — "Now, then, I shall kill you !" The grandmother went out of the house, sat close by, and wept bitterly. She covered her face with her palms. "How can I get to Nuna 8 'mun? It is too far for me." While she was weeping, she was carried to Nuna 8 'mun quite unawares. She looked up and said, "Is not this a boat-support of my father, made of whale-ribs!" Then she saw her younger brother, who was working on something near his house. He gave her a cordial welcome. "Oh, indeed! have you come?" — "Yes." — "What is the matter with you? Are you suffering from hunger!" — "No, but my little grandson has ordered me to take your sons as boat-paddlers. He is going to bring here the young wife of a ke'lE from across the sea." He did not say a word against this order. "Oh, hurry up! Go down to the water, get the skin boat ready ; cause no delay !" They began to cover the frame of the boat with a skin covering. "Oh, how strange you are! Why are you taking old skins? You are from a family so strong in numbers. The people will point at you. You will be put to shame. The people will say, 'This numerous family are but bad hunters, since there are no new skins on their boat.'" They listened to his words, and took the hides of walrus newly killed. When everything was ready, they paddled toward the boy's place.

The boy was lying in the inner room in utter darkness, as before. He was very weak, and covered all over with scabs. " Egegegegei' !" and again, still louder, " Egegegegei' ! I have come again!" It was the ke'lE. "What are you doing?" — "I am lying down." — "What for?" Because I am very lame." Then he hears in the darkness, "Toq, toq, toq." The ke'lE passed water in a chamber-vessel. "There, take that, and wash yourself with it all over your body !" He took off his clothes and washed his face and his whole body with this urine. Then he felt of his body with . his hands. Oh, it was sleek all over, and his hand just slid along over his skin. " There, put those on!" He took breeches, outer and inner ones, and put them on. " There, also this!" It was a double fur shirt. He felt of it with his hands in the dark. It was covered all over with tassels. The ke'lE gave him also a cap, boots, and a scarf. All these he put on. He gave him a small piece of dried meat. "Now, that is your provision for the journey. This will suffice for the whole crew. And here is fresh water and a strike-a-light. Take this small parcel. When you want to rest yourself, unfold it, and then you will see. And this is a paddle, — the arm of a still-born infant, along with the shoulder-blade. The arm is the shaft, and the shoulder-bone the blade. Now I am going. Brrr!" The ke'lE vanished. The uncles were coming. "Who is that standing there on the shore ?" — "It is your nephew," says the old woman. "But they say that he is quite lame." — "It seems that he is well now." As soon as they landed, he came to meet them. "Let us push off!" — "But we have no provisions, nor fresh water." — "I have." They pushed off. While paddling, they asked one another, "But where are his provisions?" Still they have not the heart to ask him. They paddled for a long time, and now were quite far from the shore. Evening came. He asked, "Are you hungry?" — "Yes!" He took his small piece of dried meat and detached for each one a tiny shred no larger than half of a human nail. They looked at it and thought, "Now we are starving to death. Our life is finished." They began to chew. The meat grew within the mouth. They swallowed, but it was still there. Their bellies were quite full. At last they wanted no more. Then the food vanished. "Do you want a drink?" — "Yes!" He unfolded the parcel and threw it upon the water. It was a small skin rug. It turned into a little island. A small lake was in the middle of this island. They landed on the island, drank from the lake, and 'eased themselves on the firm ground. After that they took their places in the boat. He took the skin rug by one edge and pulled it aside. Everything vanished. He rolled the parcel up and put it in its former place. The uncles paddled on. Night came. They felt quite exhausted. Then the boy said, "Now you may sleep! I will paddle myself." He took the infant's arm and paddled with it. The boat rushed forward more quickly than an American steamer (literally, lelu 8/ tvet, "whisker boat"[2]), more quickly than a flying bird. With such swiftness it moved onward the whole night. The next morning the other men awoke and took their turn in paddling ; but the boat moved much more slowly, though there were eight of them.

On the third day there appeared from afar the mountain-ridge near the shore. On the shore was a settlement, — a large group of jaw-bone houses. "Who comes here?" — "Qolento'!" — "Where from?" — "From Nuna 8 'mun."

— "What for?" — "To take the ke'te's wife from him." — "Oh, oh! do not speak so loud. He will hear you. How strange you are! He will hear, and then he will eat all of you. Better take wives here." — Oh, the paddlers were frightened! "It is land. Let us land here." — "Oh, you good-for-nothings ! you are the cause of the delay. Paddle on." The ke'te was sitting on a cliff with his wife. He had eyes of fire, and a long tongue lolling down on his breast.

"Who is coming?" — "Qol£nto'." — "What for?" — "For you to eat. I have come, and have brought eight companions." Oh, he was glad ! "Whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?" — "How strange you are! They have paddled so long, they are quite exhausted. First give them food."

— "All right! Bring some whale-skin, walrus-blubber, reindeer-fat, and reindeer-tenderloin. Let them eat their fill." They ate. Now, whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?" — "How strange you are! They have not slept. Let them rest themselves. You shall eat them to-morrow morning. They shall not go away, since I brought them for your food." They slept. Early in the morning the ke'lE called out, "Qol£nto', get up! Whom shall I eat first, whom shall I eat first?" Qolento' had a small stone. He selected one paddler and drew a line with this stone all over his body, from the crown of his head to the tip of his toes. Then he pushed him forward. "Here, eat him!" The ke'lE wanted to chew, but could not do anything. He left him, and he rose to his feet. "Oh, he is too tough! I cannot eat him. Give me some one with meat more tender!" — "Then take this one!" But this one was also as hard as stone. He could do nothing to any of the eight. "Oh, is there no one who is more tender?" — "Perhaps I am. Try me!" As soon as the ke'lE wanted to catch him, he struck him with the stone upon the head and killed him. His wife was quite young, of human origin, had hardly once been slept with. Qolento' took her for himself. She said, "But he has another wife, an old one. She is very bad. She will kill you."

— "We shall see!" — "Yes, she will, even with copulating she will kill you, with her vulva, which has strong teeth." — "Oh, oh!" — "And also with her anus, which also has teeth." — "Oh, oh!"

Qol£nto' had a retriever.[3] It had long hooks. He brought it along. A stamping of feet was heard from without, and a voice called, "Where is that Qolfento', the mischievous one? He has carried away other men's wives. He has killed my husband. There, now ! let him take me, and fare as my husband fared." — "All right!" They entered the sleeping-room. "Copulate with me!" The woman lay down and spread her legs apart. He took his stone, still covered with her husband's blood, and shoved it into her vulva. She caught it greedily, and all her teeth stuck in it. She turned toward him her anus. "Copulate also into the anus!" He shoved into the anus the retriever with many hooks. All the teeth of the anus stuck into the retriever. She tried to chew it, but could do nothing. So at last she choked herself to death with it and was destroyed.

He took the other woman. She was very pretty. He took also all the property. They came back to the settlement. No one came to meet them, so frightened were they. Then Qolento' called out, "Come out! I have killed him." Oh, they rushed onward. They caught the best of their girls and put them into the boat for wives for the paddlers, and the girls consented with joy.

They left, and went across the sea. When they were nearing Nuna 8/ mun, they saw upon the cliff eight large tents. Each tent had a reindeer-herd of its own, two herdsmen, and a large bag of tobacco in the outer tent. "This is your reward for the journey." The front house had two herds, and two bags of tobacco for the master. "From now on be reindeer-breeders!" So they left Nuna 8/ mun for ti'ni, and became reindeer-breeders. They lived there. That is all.

Told by Nuteirqeu', a Maritime Chukchee man from the village of Nuna 8 'mun, in the village of Uni'sak at Indian Point, May, 1900.

[1] The so-called moomga'tirgin ("gibbering"), a characteristic sound somewhat similar to the buzzing of a fly. It is supposed to be the voice of the ke'lE. Compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 437. [2] Compare Vol. VII of this series, p. 19. [3] An implement for securing killed seals floating upon the water before they go down (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 121).

13. (The Girl in the Stone Chest.)

There lived an old man[1] who had an only daughter. He kept her in a large stone chest. Although her suitors were many, they could not do anything, since the girl was shut up in the chest. She was sitting there, with a lamp. She was very pretty. All the time she was sewing and preparing new clothes for herself. An orphan, poorly dressed, also wanted to be a suitor. He lost his way, however, in a storm. At last he saw a house. "Who is there?" — "I am here." — "Who are you?" — "I lost my way in a storm." — "Indeed!" The woman returned to the sleeping-room. "He, you! There is meat in the store-room.[2] Take some and eat it." — "I will." He went to the store-room. A Mouse- Woman come out from there, and asked him, "Who are you?" — "I am a suitor." — "All right! I will give you some of my saliva. Rub that upon the stone, then you will find a nail. Press that nail down. The chest will open, and let you in."

He rubbed. The trunk opened. He saw a naked girl, who was lying on her back fast asleep. He pressed her down. "Ah, ah, ah !" cried the girl; and the father cried from the sleeping-room, "I knew he was not a stray visitor, he is a suitor. — Well, then, if you have become my son-in-law, go and procure some good trimming for my fur-shirt collar."

"All right!" But he did not know what kind of trimming was wanted. He set off, and at last was out of the bright world, and entered the dark one. He walked in the dark, and soon heard noise and thunder. A man was snoring. He came nearer, and found a house as large as a mountain. His ears rang with the noise. He entered, however, and saw a man as big as a tall tree. He was asleep and snoring. He had a very long beard. He caught him by the beard and wound his hand twice in it. Then he pulled up his head and drew the pillow from under the sleeping one. He emptied the pillow-bag, and rummaged among the contents. He found a piece of wolf-skin all clotted. He put it into his bosom ; then he caught the sleeping man by the beard, just as before, and put his head upon the pillow. After that, instead of going out, he jumped up, caught hold of one of the roof-poles, and passed through the vent-hole to the top of the tent. There he also lay down to sleep, and snored too. The large one awoke. "Who is snoring there on top of the tent, disturbing my sound sleep so shamelessly?" He looked for the footprints; but all of them led only to the tent, and none led out. The large one was puzzled, then he lay down and snored again. Then the other one left. Before he returned home, he grew old. Just as he came, his father-in-law dropped down and died. The end.

Told by Nikon Rite'greu, a River Chukchee man in a settlement "By the Cliffs," on the Middle Anadyr.

[1] This tale is probably borrowed from the Russian or from the Yukaghir, or at least is strongly influenced by the folk-lore of these peoples. [2] Ya'nak (locative from ya'nan), "in the background of the tent, behind the sleeping-room" (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 178).

14. (The Girls as Avengers.)

There was a hunter, a very good one, the only one in the village. He was killing ringed seals, large thong-seals. Five brothers, doers of violence, robbed the people of their food. Two daughters of the hunter grew up, and said, "Our father has fed us till we are full-grown. Shall we permit him to be robbed any more?" They pitied their father.

So they began to exercise, became quite strong, and at last killed the violence-doers, with all their kin.

Told by Loloi'gm, a Maritime Chukchee man, in the village of Ce'6in, May, 1901.

III. War Tales

i. Ma'nfe and Mana'qton

There were two brothers,[1][2] Ma'ne and Mana'qton. In war times Mana'qton was taken captive by the Russians, and put into a dark prison. They fed him and gave him to drink. But he was not permitted to undress to satisfy his natural wants. Therefore his breeches became full of excrement, and in the end he could no longer move. A great Russian commander was moving along the shore in a large heavy boat. He went up-stream. Several young men were walking on the shore, towing the boat. Ma'ne concealed himself behind the bushes and watched them. They came nearer. They were making great efforts, because the boat was heavy ; and of course they were unarmed, because all the arms were in the boat. When they came quite close, Ma'nfe sprang out and attacked them. He stabbed all of them with his spear. They did not resist, because they were too weary from towing. When all were killed, Ma'ne seized the tow-line. The commander was alone in the boat, holding the rudder. Ma'n£ tugged at the tow-line. "You there! All the arms that you have in the boat! throw them into the water! Otherwise I shall let go the tow-line!"[3] The commander took up the rifles and long knives (swords), and threw them into the water. Ma'n& drew the boat close to himself. "Why have you put my brother into the dark prison? Set him free!" — "All right!" says the commander. "Come to Markova!" They moved on. Ma'ne was towing the boat all alone.[4] They came to Markova. The commander said, "Set Mana'qton free from prison!"

But the Russian "transformed shaman"[5] opposed it. He said, "I do not believe that you were able to tow the boat all alone ; but if you really did do it, I propose a test. Two Russian men shall hold a long knife as high as their heads. You must jump over that knife." They held that knife high over their heads. He thought, "I shall not be able to do it. I shall die. Still my brother is also dying. Let me try!" — "Oh, oh, oh!" He drew a deep breath, almost with a moan, then made a bound, and jumped over the knife. He returned and jumped back over the knife. To and fro he kept jumping over the Russian knife poised on high.

"Oh, oh!" says the Russian shaman, "You are very nimble. Bring Mana'qton here !" They brought Mana'qton. He was so weak, he could not walk. They carried him in. They ripped open his breeches with a knife, washed him, and made him clean. Then he rose to his feet. Ma'ne said to the brother, "Go to the shore!" He asked the Russians for tea and sugar and tobacco. They gave him nothing. He struck the shaman in the face and killed him. Then he fled toward the river. The Russian young men shot with theirs rifles, and hit him on the head. So he was killed and died there. The end.

Told by A 8 mu'lin, a Reindeer Chukchee man, in a camp near the middle course of the Anadyr River, November, 1900.

[1] "War Tales" (Aqalile'tkin pi'nilte), literally "[of those] who led war tidings." [2] Compare Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, Nos. 130–133 and Nos. 145–152. [3] In explanation of this threat, the teller of the story said that the current was strong, and the boat, set free, would probably have capsized. [4] A quite similar episode is to be met in Russian tales referring to Yermak, the Conqueror of Siberia. It was probably borrowed by the Chukchee from the Cossacks. [5] Yirka'-la'ul, most probably a Russian pope, who is equivalent here to a "transformed shaman" of the Chukchee, because his upper garment resembles a woman's robe.

2. (Qolento'.)

A man lived at the village of Kigi'ni. He had two sons. The Sun-Chief (Tirk-e'rem)[1] sent his men to this country. The people came to the man, and said, "The Sun-Chief wants one of your sons in his employ." He had him for a while ; then he became displeased with him, and caused his head to be cut off. Two years passed, and then a third year. The elder son does not come back ; and of course he could not come, since his head had been cut off. The younger brother grew to manhood. All the time he was exercising, — running and jumping up with a load upon his shoulders. So he became quite strong, and made a spear for himself. Its point was as long as the blade of a paddle. The shaft was as thick as a tent-pole. In the spring other people came, sent by the Sun-Chief, and said to the old man, "The Sun-Chief wants your other son in his service." — "I will not give him. I am quite old, and have no other children. And where is my first son? He does not appear any more." They went away. The son said, "Why have you refused their request? Since my elder brother took this road, let me take it also. Why have you refused? Better send me along with them." In due time they came again. "The Sun-Chief wants to have your other son, at least as his guest." — "All right! take him!" They went away.

On the road there lived another Sun-Chief, nearer than the first one. They came to him. He had a large house, strongly fortified. His daughter came out and immediately returned home. "A guest has come!" The father came out and said, "Well, now, show us your skill in fencing!" Qol&nto' began to brandish his spear. He brandished it, and made various passes and side-strokes. The sun was on the left hand, then it came over to the right hand, and then was near setting. He still brandished his spear. "Oh," said the Sun-Chief, "you are quite good! I want to take you for my son-in-law." He was quite kind to him. So in the night he lay down with the girl and made her his wife. The next morning he departed, and took along the spear of his father-in-law, since the shaft of his own became too pliable from mere exercise. They came to the first Sun-Chief. He was lying on his back and snoring lustily. His arms and legs were spread wide apart. Near his penis was a small dog attached to a tying-stick. It was small and slender, but for all that watchful. Its ears pricked up at every noise, howsoever slight. Qolfento' opened a window and crept through it. The dog attacked him ; but he jumped upward, and the dog missed and fell down. He began to trample upon the dog, intending to kill it.

Then the dog spoke in the manner of men, "Do not trample upon me! I am ready to serve you henceforward as my master." — "All right! then you must awaken this one." — "Oh, oh!" It sprang towards the sleeping man and bit his right hand. The man said, "How strange! This dog is biting his own master." Then he saw the visitor. "Oh, it is you? Why did you come when I was sleeping? Did you want to attack me in my sleep? Come, now !" They came out. Near the houses there were a number of driving-sledges piled up quite high one on another. They jumped upon the pile and began to fight. They fought the whole day with their spears. The Sun-Chief grew tired. His eyes became white, and on the corners of his mouth there was thin foam. Then at last the young man caught him on the spear-point between his legs and hurled him off. He jumped after him from behind, and kicked him with all his might. Then he ran after him and jumped over him. The Sun-Chief fell down and swooned. As soon as he came to consciousness, he filled a pipe with tobacco and had a smoke. "Oh, my! but why do you deride me? Cut off my head, since you are the victor!" — "I will not." — "Oh, oh!" He smoked another pipe. "Enough of this! Kill me!" — "I will not!" — "This house of mine, and all the wealth in this trading-hut (i. e., storehouse) of mine, you may take it all." — "I do not want all this." — "Oh, well, hurry up! Enough of your derision! Despatch me quick!" — "Oh, oh! All right!" He struck him twice with his spear and put his eyes out. "There, you, have it!"

All around upon staffs human heads were elevated, all of them Chukchee. He took them all and went away. He took along also the dog and his newly married wife. He led away a long train of pack-horses and of driving-reindeer. All were loaded with tea, tobacco, sugar, rifles, lead, ammunition, etc. He took all this home. They lived. The end.

Told by Nuten-qeu', a Maritime Chukchee man from the village of Nuna 8 'mun, in the village of Uni'sak, at Indian Point, May, 1900.

[1] The Czar (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 292).

3. (War with the Ta'n*nit.)

There lived two brothers, Cinto'urgin and Anqa'lqan. Their houses were very poor. Some Ta'n'iiit warriors came, ten in number, all driving reindeer, and also all able-bodied. They murdered all the people near the lake. Cinto'urgin and Anqa'lqan were both absent, hunting reindeer. The Ta'n-nit began to kill their house-mates. At that time both came back. Ten Ta'n-nit warriors were standing side by side. The two on the ends were quite weak. The fifth, the middle one, was the strongest of all. The one on the left end said, "How shall we kill them?" That on the right end said, "Let it be by shooting P The strong one said, "You are a weakling. I am able to bind them hand and foot, and then to take them alive to the Tannin women."

Anqa'lqan said, "We shall see!" They fought. One warrior struck Anqa'lqan upon the breast with his spear. He hit his armor of thong-seal-hide. Anqa'lqan fell down. "Ga, ga, gal" cried all the Ta'n'nit. "Not yet," said Anqa'lqan, "I am still alive. My hands are not bound, nor my feet either." Lying down, he made a thrust with his long spear. His spear-head was much stronger than that of the Tannin. He pierced the Ta'n # nin all through, and killed him. His companion was still more active. Even before Anqa'lqan had killed his adversary, he had killed those on the right and on the left side, and destroyed them all. They gathered the reindeer, and took all the belongings of those killed.

Then they went home, and found their house-mates half starving.[1] They slaughtered reindeer and gave their friends to eat. The next year ten other Ta'n*nin warriors came again. Anqa'lqan went to meet them, driving a single reindeer. Then he said, "Can I save myself with the help of this single reindeer? I will rather be wholly without reindeer!" So he stabbed the animal with his knife. The reindeer rushed forward, broke through the Tan-ftin file, then fell down. They fought. Anqa'lqan killed all the Ta'nnit, but he was also mortally wounded by them. While he was lying there, Kere'tkun[2] came to him and said, "I am sorry for you! I may bring you back to life!" — "Do it," said the corpse. "If you will promise to follow my orders, I will make you alive, as before." — "I promise to do so." — "Then listen! A Ta'n-fiin will pass by, driving a reindeer-team. That is the object of your thanksgiving ceremonial. Over him and his reindeer carefully celebrate it!" — "All right!" He made him alive. A Ta'n'iiin passed by, driving a reindeer-team. He struck him with a spear and killed him, and carried the body home. Upon this, he celebrated the thanksgiving ceremonial. His head was the object of the ceremonial, and also his two reindeer. Thus he was restored to life. The end.

Told by Pana'nto, a Maritime Chukchee man, at Mariinsky Post, October, 1900.

[1] From what was told before, one would suppose that the fight was near the houses. Discrepancies of this kind are not rare in Chukchee stories. [2] Benevolent spirit (cf. Vol. VII of this series, p. 316).

IV. Tales of Russianized Natives

i. (Sea-Jumper.)

There were[1] an old man and an old woman. They had two sons. The elder son wanted to sharpen his knife. In doing this he broke the whetstone. Then his father was angered, and beat him with a spear-shaft so long and violently, that the spear-shaft became all broken. The son cried, and then made a bow and a blunt arrow for his younger brother. He finished them and gave them to his brother, and then said, "When you yearn for me, shoot this arrow from the bow." He went away, and was seen no more. In due time, evening came. Then the young boy began to cry. His father asked, "Why are you crying?" He said, "I am yearning for my elder brother. My elder brother said, 'I am going far away. I shall never come back to you.'" The old man said to his wife, "Bring me my boots!" She gave him his boots. He put them on and went in pursuit of his son. The young man, however, was far ahead. He passed through the woods, and came to the open tundra, being still ahead. The old man climbed the last larch-tree on the forest-border, and then saw on the horizon a small streamlet of breath. This was the breath of his son. Then he called at the top of his voice, "Oh, my son, come back, come back! If you do not want to come back, then at least stop for a while and listen to my words !" The son stopped and listened. The old man continued, "You will go across the tundra and come to the sea. Then you will go across the sea. The ice will break around you.' Then you will jump from 'one ice-floe to another. Thus jumping, you will reach the other shore. Your strength will be wholly exhausted. The last ice-floe will emerge from the black waters. You must try somehow to jump to this ice-floe. Then you must say, 'O ice-floe ! carry me on to the land!' You will come to firm ground safe and sound. Then walk up-shore; and whatever you meet on your way, even if it is a snow-bunting (Passorina nivalis), you must kill. It will serve you as food. Or if it be a white wagtail (Motacilla alba), you must kill it too. It will serve you as food. Also you must not be afraid if the reindeer on the shore should speak in the manner of men."

The young man listened to all these words, then continued on his way. He came to the sea, and went across. The ice began to break around him. He jumped from one ice-floe to another, and at last he was quite exhausted. Then from the black waters appeared the last ice-floe. He jumped on to it. This ice-floe drifted nearer and nearer the shore. At last it reached dry land. He came to the land and made a fire. Over this fire be hung his wet clothes to dry a little. He was lying by this fire, when all at once a snow-bunting fluttered by. He grasped his bow and killed the snow-bunting. Then he plucked it, and put it on a wooden spit over the fire to roast. When it was quite done, he saw that only a little dried skin was left on the spit. He threw it away, and said, "What else could I expect from a roasted bunting?" Then the words of his father came to his mind. He picked it up and tried to eat of it ; and, lo ! there was on the spit a brisket of a wild sheep, so fat that it trembled all over. He ate bountifully and lay down to rest. Then a wagtail passed by. He caught up his bow and killed the wagtail. He plucked it and put it on the spit over the fire to roast. Meanwhile he slept. When he awoke again, he saw on the spit only a little dried skin. He threw it away, and said again, "What else could I expect from a mere wagtail? It is not a thing for eating." Then the words of his father came to his mind, and he tried to eat of it. And a heavy tenderloin of a wild sheep was on the spit, all trembling with fat.

He rested himself, and dried his clothes. Then he continued on his way. After a while he heard human voices talking. It was as if some girls were talking among themselves. One said, "O sister! where did you leave your scraping-board?" The other answered, "I left it on this mountain-ridge." Then she asked, in her turn, "And where did you leave your work-bag?" — "I left it under yonder rock." He crouched down and waited for the speakers; but it was a herd of wild reindeer-does. He picked out for himself a good fat doe, and shot an arrow toward her. Oh, she jumped up! "It pains me in the left side! Oh, it pains me in the left side!" He shot again, and killed the doe ; then he skinned it, and the fattest meat he selected and hung in the sun to dry a little. Thus he prepared a good load of dried meat, just as much as he could carry. He took it on his shoulders and continued his walk. In due time his bag grew less heavy. When most of it had been consumed, he again heard people talking. These were men's voices. One said, "O brother! where did you leave your bow?" — "I left it there, beyond this hill." — "And where did you leave your quiver?" — "I left it there, down in the valley." He crouched down, watching the speakers, and it was a herd of reindeer-bucks. He picked out a fat buck and shot at him. Oh, he jumped up! "It pains me in the left side, it pains me in the left side !" He shot once more and killed the buck. Then he skinned it, and the best meat he dried in the sun. He made a good load for himself, and went on farther all along the seacoast. At last he came to a river. He found no means of crossing the river ; so he walked up the river, looking for a place to wade across. After a while he saw on the river-bank a boat made of planks, and a canoe made of a hollowed tree-trunk. These belonged to two girls who were picking berries. One was the daughter of a man, and the other the daughter of a Raven, who both lived in the same village. The boat of the human girl was full of clean berries. The canoe of the Raven girl contained berries mixed with leaves and boughs. He ate largely of the clean berries from the boat. Then he put his whole load of meat into this boat. In the canoe of the Raven girl he put only a little meat and a few pieces of fat. The Raven girl saw it from the top of a tree. She said, "O sister! The Sea -Jumper has come! Which of us two is he going to take for his wife ? Let us go home immediately !" They ran toward their boats. The Raven girl said, "O sister! have you found anything in your boat?" — " Nothing at all," said the human girl. "Then he is going to marry me," said the Raven girl, "because he put some meat and some fat into my canoe." They paddled home. The other one followed along the shore. After some time he saw houses on his side of the river. The Sea-Jumper saw the house of a man, and entered it. The man had three sons and one daughter. The daughter took a white skin and spread it near herself, and told the suitor to take his place upon it. The Raven girl came too, and took a seat upon this white skin, close to the man. Then they pushed her out. "Begone from here, you diarrhoea incarnate! You will make this whole house of ours dirty." The Raven girl went away. He married the human girl, and they lived together.

Then the Raven began to think in what way he could best avenge the wrong of his daughter. So he said to the man's son-in-law, "Come, let us go hunt moulting birds!" The other one said, "How can I go? I have no canoe." His father-in-law said, "Here is a canoe! Take it, and go with him! He wants to have a hunting-match with you." They went after the birds. Wherever they found a flock of geese, the man's son-in-law would kill the largest, the most nimble adult geese. The Raven killed only goslings, and even ducklings. The man's son-in-law soon filled his whole canoe with geese; the Raven had but a few. Then they went home. The Sea-Jumper came home first, and they carried all the geese into the house. The Raven came after a while. His house-mates started to carry his few goslings into their house. They carried them there, and then took them back to the canoe, so that they might carry them again. In this manner .they were occupied until late into the night. This was a device of the Raven girl. The human people plucked their birds and threw the feathers out of the house. In the night-time the Raven girl and her mother gathered all the feathers and carried them to their own house. In the morning the Raven boasted, "Oh, the man's son-in-law is a mere good for nothing ! See how many birds I have brought ! There are the feathers near my house. And he hardly had enough to feed upon during the hunt. Such a good-for-nothing I should not take for a son-in-law." The man, his neighbor, said nothing, because he knew the truth. Then he said to his son-in-law, "You have your own father and mother. It is time you were off to your own country." — "All right!" said the young man. "In the morning I will prepare for the journey." He awoke in the morning and heard a noise near the house, like the sound of a storm. He went out and saw a reindeer-herd, quite numerous. The father-in-law gave these reindeer to him and to his wife to travel with on their journey home. They went away. He went far ahead, as was his wont, and said to the woman, "You go with the herd to such and such a rock. There you may stay this night." She reached the rock indicated, scraped the snow, and erected her tent. Then she saw that she had no fire. She threw herself upon the ground, turned into a she-wolf, and ran home to fetch a fire-brand. He came home, and saw that she had the meat all cooked. Then he began to ask himself, "How is that? I have the strike-a-light with me. Where could she have gotten fire?" The night passed. The husband said nothing. The next morning they started again on their journey. After a long stretch, when it was past noon, he said, "You must reach yonder rock. There you may stay for the night." She came to the rock, scraped the snow, and erected her tent. Then she saw that she had no fire, because her husband took the strike-a-light along with him. She threw herself upon the ground, turned into a she-wolf, and ran home to fetch the fire. When her husband came home, the meat was already cooked. Then her husband felt annoyed, and asked himself, "Where may she get fire? Perhaps somebody comes here!" The next morning he said, "Now we are coming to the sea. You must go for a while across the sea. Then you may stop for a night." He went ahead of her, hid himself on the way, and watched her coming. She came to that place, scraped the snow, and erected her tent. Then, as before, she turned into a she-wolf and ran home to fetch the fire. She caught a fire-brand and started back. "Oh," said the man, "I do not want her ! In course of time she will kill me." So he drew an arrow and shot at her. She dropped the fire-brand and hurried away. She refused to go on with him, and returned to her parents; and all the reindeer followed her. He walked onward, and at last came to his country. His father said, "Where

is your wife?" The son replied, "I was afraid she would eat me in course of time, so I tried to kill her, and she fled home, and all the reindeer followed her." His father said, "You must go back! Your mother was like that; but when I brought her here, all this vanished quite soon. I brought your mother from that very country." So the Sea-Jumper went back. He came to the house of that man, and took a place near his bride ; but she jumped up and ran away. She said, "What are you coming for? You wanted to kill me." Then her brother, the eldest one, said, " Never mind ! It was all my doing. I wanted to see you again. Therefore I influenced him so, that he wanted to kill you. I wanted you to come back once more. Otherwise I should not have seen you any more." This brother was a great shaman. Then she relented, and allowed him to come near. They passed one night there, and then went away. From this time on, whatever she might do, he would not care. Let her turn into a she-wolf and fetch fire, he would not watch her. They came to his father, and lived there.

Told by Theodosia, a Russianized Yukaghir woman, in the village of "Two Brooks' ' on the Large Anui, 1905.

[1] This and the following stories were collected among the Russianized natives on the Lower Kolyma and on the Anadyr River. They were pointed out as being of Chukchee provenience; and, indeed, their whole character is Chukchee, and some of the episodes appear also in other tales collected among the Chukchee. Some of them were written down at my request by the natives who could write in Russian, also by Russian cossacks from the words of the natives. These were afterwards sent or given to me. Those that I give here had a special title as Chukchee tales. For these reasons I thought it advisable to place these few tales in the Chukchee series. Though some of the episodes of this tale are Chukchee up to the reindeer-herd which is given by the father-in-law to the young man, other episodes refer to the life of the inland natives living within the forest border and supporting themselves by hunting land-game. Of such character are, for instance, the picking of berries by the women, travelling in canoes, the hunting of moulted geese by men, also in canoes. These details do not belong to the Chukchee life. The Maritime Chukchee live beyond the forest-border, and the Reindeer Chukchee go for the summer to the tundra. They have no wooden canoes of the river type, nor have they much time in summer to hunt moulted geese or to pick berries. On the contrary, these details are very characteristic of the Yukaghir or the Chuvantzy River population, both Russianized and in their primitive condition.

2. (Reindeer-Born.)

There lived a man who had one son. This son was all the time with the reindeer-herd. One time he came to the herd and saw that one reindeer-doe had an abscess on her ear. The night passed. The next morning he went to his father and said, "O father! a doe of ours has a very strange abscess on her ear. It is better that we kill her." The father said, "How foolishly you talk! Let her be!" The next evening he saw that the reindeer-doe was lying on the ground. The third evening he came, he heard a small infant crying. It was Reindeer-Born. He sped home. "O father! I told you we had better kill her. Now a little infant is crying there, Reindeer-Born." The father scolded him: "Go and bring it here!" The infant was so heavy, he was hardly able to carry it home. "Now you may nurse it, if you want to." In three days the infant walked about and grew to be a boy. On the fourth day the boy wanted to go to the reindeer-herd. The young man did not want to take him. Then the father blamed him. "You must take him for an assistant herdsman." He took him along when going to the herd. Then the boy said, "You watch the herd on this side, and I will watch it on that side." As soon as evening came, the boy said, "Oh, let my mouth open!" and his mouth opened; "O reindeer! enter my mouth," and the reindeer entered his mouth. The next morning several reindeer were missing. The brother asked, "What has happened to those reindeer?" The boy said, "Wolves have attacked them and driven them away." — "Then why are no traces of wolves to be seen on the snow?"

They came home. The young man said again, "Let us kill him! He will destroy the whole herd." The father blamed him. "It is because you are a bad herdsman, that the wolves come and destroy our reindeer." They went again toward the herd. The boy said, "Let me watch on this end, and you on that!" As soon as evening came, the boy said, "Oh, you, my mouth, open!" and the mouth opened; "Oh, you, reindeer, enter my mouth!" and they entered.

The next morning the young man asked again, "What has happened to those reindeer?" The boy said, as before, "The wolves came and drove them away." — "Then why are no wolves' tracks to be seen on the snow? I think that you ate them yourself." They came home. The young man said to his parents, "I told you before that he destroys the herd. Now I shall leave you and go away. Otherwise he will eat me also." He ran away, and kept running throughout the night. In the morning he walked on more slowly. After a while he saw a house. Near that house, upon the supports, carcasses of men were hanging, fastened there by the hair. A woman came out and called with great joy, "Oh, oh! a man, a guest!" She sprang to the support and drew down one human carcass. "What are you going to do with it?" — "I am going to cook it for you." — "Oh, horrors! we do not eat food like that!" She bounced off, and in a few moments brought to the house a large reindeer-herd. She slaughtered one reindeer, which was very fat. Then she took the carcass into the house. "Take care!" said the man, "do not cook this clean food in that kettle of yours !" She threw the kettle away, and took another one, which was quite new. Then he ate. Night came : they were going to sleep. The woman said, "I wish you would' marry me!" He answered, "When you cease to feed on things like these, then I will marry you." — "All right!" said the woman, "marry me, and I will eat and drink as you may order." So he married her and copulated with her. Every day she would go out. The next morning, when she left, he began to cry bitterly. In the evening she asked, "What is the reason that you cried so bitterly after I left?" — "The stunted willow whipped me," said the young man. Oh, the woman sprang out of the house, and beat at the bushes with an iron pan-shovel. "How dared you to whip my husband?" — "We did nothing," said the bushes. He cried when thinking of his father and mother.[1]

Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzy woman, in the village, of Markova on the Anadyr River, December, 1905.

[1] This tale was left unfinished. The narrator knew no more. Tales with similar episodes were collected also among the Chukchee on the Kolyma and on the Pacific (see p. 173).

3. (Hare Story.)

There was a Hare.[1] He lived with his wife. They had no children. The Hare said to his wife, "O wife! I am going now to the Man-Slayer to see what he is doing." He attached his reindeer to the sledge and went away. After a while he saw a large reindeer-herd. It was that of the Man- Slayer. Man-Slayer was working near his house, making a sledge. The Hare came, and said, "How are you, Man-Slayer?" — Man-Slayer said, "I am well. Come into my house, and tell my wife that she is to kill you and to cook your meat, and I will come in to eat it." The Hare said, "I cannot find the entrance." Man-Slayer grew angry, and aimed a blow at him with his hatchet. The Hare was frightened, and ran into the house.

He looked around, and saw that the entrance was no longer there, only the vent-hole overhead. He jumped up, but could not reach the vent-hole, and fell back to the ground. The wife of Man-Slayer called to her children, "Here is a Hare! Bring me my knife!" The Hare was frightened, and said, "Well, now, grandmother, do not kill me so soon! Better tie me to a long line ! I am so fat, I will try and jump about. Then my meat will be more to your taste." The old woman did so, — tied him to a long line. Meanwhile she prepared her kettle. The Hare gathered his forces, and again jumped up toward the vent-hole, but again he could not reach the vent-hole. Then he said, "O grandmother! how many dishes have you in your house?" She said, "I have three dishes." — "Oh," said the Hare, "my meat will be too much for these three dishes." He jumped again, but could not reach the vent-hole. Then he said again, "O grandmother! how many dishes have you in your house?" She said, "Four dishes." — "Oh, my meat will be too much for these four dishes." Then he jumped again directly through the vent-hole, bit off the line, and ran away. The old woman saw it, and called, "O old man! catch the Hare!" The old man went in pursuit of the Hare. He caught the Hare, and was going to kill him. The Hare said, "Oh, well, grandfather, do not kill me so soon ! I want first to say good-by to the Sun. Then I shall ask something of you ; and at the same time you may sharpen your hatchet!"

Man-Slayer began to sharpen his hatchet. The Hare said to him, "What month is coming now?" Man-Slayer said, "I do not know. If you know, tell me about it." The Hare said, "It is the month of wild geese, when the wild geese are coming here again." — "Is that so?" — "Yes, it is! And look there! Some wild geese are passing there on high." — "Where are they?" — "Here, directly overhead!" Man-Slayer raised his head, and the Hare snatched his hatchet away, and struck him on the neck. Man-Slayer fell down. The Hare cut his body into pieces and filled a large bag. Then he mounted to the roof of the house and threw the bag down the vent-hole. "Here, old woman! cook this Hare!" The wife rejoiced, and fell to dressing the meat. The children were skipping about. One said, "Give me the liver!" The other said, "Give me the kidney!" She distributed the pieces; but as soon as one smelled of his piece, he threw it away.

The mother grew angry, and asked, "Why do you throw the pieces away?" They said, "Well, this meat has a smell of our father." She smelled of the meat herself, and cried aloud. Then she rushed out, but the Hare was gone. She gave pursuit. The Hare saw her, and looked for a hiding-hole. There was none. Then he saw an eagle-nest on the top of a larch-tree. The Eagle-Woman put on a woman's combination-suit, descended to the ground from her nest, and was going to work at a wooden dish. The Hare came to her, and implored, "O Eagle! hide me in your wide breeches!" The Eagle took off her combination-suit, hid the Hare in it, and put it on the ground. She put the dish over it, and sat down on the dish. The Man-Slaying-Woman came, and asked, "O Eagle! have you not seen a Hare of mine, which I wanted to catch?" — "I saw him," said the Eagle. He passed by, and ran up to the sky. — "Oh, alas! how can I find him now?" The Eagle said, "Take a seat on my back! I will carry you up to the sky. Then you may catch the Hare." — "Oh, quick! take me there!" The Eagle put out her back, and the Man-Slaying-Woman sat upon it. The Eagle flew upwards, and then said to the Man-Slaying-Woman, "Well, now, look down, and say whether the earth is far enough away !" The Man-Slaying-Woman said, "The earth is vanishing from view." — "Oh," said the Eagle, "now hold on tight! I am going to turn a little." She turned her back downwards. The Man-Slaying-Woman lost her grip, and fell down, head foremost, to the earth, (landing) near the nest of the Eagle. Her head and her whole body penetrated into the ground. Only the legs as far as the knees remained out of the ground. The Hare dashed out from his hiding-place, seized a stone hammer, and hammered with it on the old woman's heels. Then he said to the Eagle, "Well, my friend, now these will be good stakes for attaching our reindeer to. The end.

Written down by the cossack Innocent Bereskin, from the words of Mary Chahin, a Russianized Yukaghir woman, in the village of Pokhotsk, on the Lower Kolyma, 1895.

[1] This tale is almost identical with the one found on p. 155, which was collected among the Anadyr Chukchee.

4. (Raven and She-Fox.)

A Raven married a Fox-Woman.[1] They had nothing to eat. The Raven said, "Now I am going to the Sea-Spirit." His wife laughed. "How will you find him?" — "Oh, I shall, I know the sea!" The Raven flew away, and came to the middle of the sea. He sat down on the ice, and saw, down in the water under the ice, a large house. It was the house of the Sea- Spirit. So he took off his coat and entered the house. The house-master met him with great joy. "So you have come? Who are you?" — "I am the Raven." — "And where is your coat?" — "I left it outside, near the house." — "Bring it here!" The Raven brought it. The Sea-Spirit put it on, and asked, "Do I look well in this coat?" — "Oh, quite so! You may wear it all the time." — "No!" said the Sea-Spirit. He took off the coat and gave it back to the Raven. "Now tell me, what is the matter with you?" — "We have nothing to eat, my wife and I. Give us something!" — "All right! Go home!" He came to his wife, and the house was filled with ringed seals and spotted seals. Also all kinds of fish, whatsoever fish lives in the sea, were there in plenty. The Raven's wife was frightened. "Whence came all this abundance ?" The Raven said, " Do not be frightened ! The Sea-Spirit gave all this to me." — "Oh, oh! the Sea-Spirit! Have you really seen him?" — "I saw him in the middle of the sea. He lives in a house under the water." Oh, the Fox was very angry. "You fool! you asked for too little. I am going to get more." — "But you will not act in a proper manner." — "No, I am clever enough."

The Fox ran to the middle of the sea, and saw the house of the Sea- Spirit. She took off her coat and entered the house. The Sea-Spirit met her with great joy. "Oh, a guest! Who are you?" — "I am Fox- Woman." — "And where is your coat?" — "I left it outside, near the house." — "Bring it here!" She brought it. The Sea-Spirit put it on, and asked, "Do I look well in this coat?" The Fox laughed aloud, and derided him. The Sea-Spirit was very angry. He pushed the Fox out. Then he broke all the ice on the sea. The Fox was nearly drowned. She came to the shore utterly exhausted. When she came to her husband, the Raven grew very angry. "I told you so," said he. "Now everything has vanished, and we have nothing to eat." They suffered hunger worse than before. The Raven once more flew to the middle of the sea and found the Sea-Spirit. This time the Sea-Spirit was so angry, he did not want even to talk to him. The Raven stood near the entrance, and said, "I have come." — "What do you want?" The Raven said with great sorrow, "O Sea-Spirit! I have lost everything you gave me, and now we are suffering hunger. Give us something, howsoever small!" The Sea-Spirit laughed aloud, and relented. "Ah, you are suffering! And where is your coat?" — "It is outside, near the house." — "Bring it here!" The Raven brought it, and the Sea-Spirit put it on. "Do I look well in this coat?" — "Oh, quite so! You may wear it all the time." — "I will." He took the coat for himself. Then he asked, "What do you want from me?" — "I want herds of reindeer and herds of mountain-sheep." — "Go home! You shall have them all."

The Raven came home, and saw near his house large reindeer-herds with many herdsmen. They greeted him, and said, "You have come, O master!" — "I am not your master at all, I am too poor for that." — "But the Sea-Spirit has sent all these herds and herdsmen to be under your hand." — "All right!" They lived there, the Raven without a coat, and the Fox, who had been nearly drowned. They ate of the best meat, and were quite wealthy. Then the Fox brought forth two children, — a son and a daughter. They felt so much joy, they died from it. That is the end.

Written down by Peter Korkin, a Russianized Yukaghir, in the village of Pokhotsk on the Lower Kolyma, 1895.

5. (The Boy who married the Sun.)

A man lived in a Maritime settlement. He had seven grown-up sons. They were travelling in a boat, and hunting whales and walruses. One time they went to sea, and saw a large overhanging cliff, quite similar to a house. At that moment the boat capsized, and they were drowned. Their mother was left quite destitute, with the youngest son, who was still a small boy. The boy cried all the time, and asked his mother for food. She gathered some shells and seaweed on the shore, and with these she fed the boy ; but he continued to cry, and to ask for whale-skin and walrus-blubber such as he was accustomed to. The mother also cried, "Where shall we find them? Your father is gone, and your brothers are also gone." He said, "Then I will go and find them." — "How can you find them? They are drowned in the sea."

The boy went away without his mother's knowledge, and walked along the shore. At last he came to that cliff-house. He entered it, and saw his father and his seven brothers sitting there. The father wept. "Why have you come? We are dead, drowned." A Cliff-Spirit was there also. He was very angry. "Why have you come?" said the Spirit, and gave the boy a tremendous thrashing, so that he was left hardly alive. The father helped him to get up, and led him out of the house. He gave him also three small roots, and said, " When you reach home, put one of these roots into each of our caches. Then in the morning send your mother to look into the caches." The boy came home, and first of all he went to the caches, and put into each of them one root of those given to him by his father. Then he came to the mother. The mother was weeping. "Where have you been, and who has beaten you so frightfully?" — "I saw my father and my seven brothers." — "Do not say so! Your father and your brothers perished long ago." Weeping, she fell asleep. In the morning he awakened her, and said, "O mother! go and open the three caches, and then bring some food from there!" The mother thought, "What shall I bring? There is nothing in them." Notwithstanding, she went to the caches and opened them. All the caches were full of provisions, — whale-skin and white-whale blubber and walrus-meat and everything as it was in the time when her husband and her seven sons were alive. The boy said, "Now, mother, we have plenty of food: so I will go and look for a wife." — " Where will you find her, child?" — "I shall." He got up about midnight, put on his clothes and boots, and departed. He looked up toward the sky, and saw two men descending directly toward him. "Where are you going? What do you want?" — "I am going to look for a wife." — "All right! Then drive these reindeer of ours, and follow our trail. The way we descended, that way you ascend." He sat down on the sledge and drove upwards along the moon's ray. He felt much fear; nevertheless he drove straight ahead, and came to the heavens. The heavens looked like firm ground, only it was quite white and shining. He saw a Raven, that flew by. "What do you want here? Oh, well! I know. Stay a little ! I will tell you. You will find on the way a settlement of Reindeer people. Do not stop there. Then you will find another settlement of Reindeer people. Do not stop there, either. Also pass by the third settlement. Then you will see a large house, shining like gold. This is the house of the Sun. His daughter is quite ill. She is near unto death, and nobody knows how to help her. The Sun will greet you with great joy. He will say, 'Oh, it is a man from the Lower World! Can you not help my daughter? I will give you a rich reward.' Then say, 'I do not want your reward; but I will help, if you will consent to give me your daughter for a wife.' The Sun will think, 'She is dying. It is better to have her live and marry this stranger.' Then he will consent to your request. At the same time I will sit upon the roof. Enter the room, and look out of the window upon the roof. I will open my beak and take in three heavy breaths. Then do the same ! Take three long breaths and let the air of them touch the girl. Then she will recover."

The young man came to that house, and fell backward, dazed by its mere brightness.' The Sun lifted him from the ground, and said, "Do not be afraid ! Since you came from the Lower World, help my daughter, who is ill! I will give you a rich reward." The boy answered, "I want no reward. Rather promise to let me marry your daughter!" The Sun thought to himself, 'Better that than to have her dead!' So he gave the promise. The young man looked out of the window. A Raven was sitting on the roof. The Raven opened his beak and drew in three breaths. He also drew three breaths. The air touched the girl, and she recovered. She looked as if just awakened from deep slumber. She asked for meat and drink, and they gave them to her. After that they married her to the visitor. In a few days the father-in-law said, "You have a country of your own. Go there to your mother!" The Sun said also, "On the way you will pass three settlements with large herds of reindeer. Tell them to follow you. I give them to you." He came to the settlements, and said as he had been told. "All right!" they answered, and when he looked back, it seemed as if the whole land was moving around, so numerous were the reindeer and the herdsmen. About midnight they came to his mother. Oh, she felt much joy! The young man's wife entered the house, and said, "Oh, this house is too bad! How could we live in a house like this?" — "We cannot help it," said her husband, "This is our only house." She went out, and took from her bosom a golden egg. She threw the egg into the brook, and there was a big golden house. "Now," said the woman, "this is a house fit for us to live in." They lived in the house. Their mother wondered greatly, and from thus wondering she died in three days. The poor people used to come to them from all directions, and they slaughtered reindeer for every one. Thus they lived in affluence and grew numerous.[1]

Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzy woman, in the village of Markova, on the Middle Anadyr, 1901.

[1] The episode of the golden house certainly does not belong to Chukchee folk-lore. Still in several tales collected among the Chukchee similar episodes are met with.

Colophon

Waldemar Bogoras, Chukchee Mythology, Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol. VIII, Part I (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1910), edited by Franz Boas. Bogoras wrote this collection directly in English; no translation was required or performed. The public-domain scan (Internet Archive identifier chukcheemytholog00wgbo) was captured from the Internet Archive on 2026-08-07, checked for open access (no lending restriction — distinct from the 1975 print-disabled reprint circulated under the title "The Chukchee," which is not open), and cleaned of scanning artifacts — running heads, page numbers, and hyphenation breaks — for this edition.

This edition is deliberately partial. The 1910 monograph's larger first part, "Chukchee Texts" (its Introduction, Myths and Tales, Incantations, Songs, and Proverbs/Riddles/Sayings — roughly pages 3 through 150 of the original), presents its material as continuous interlinear Chukchee-with-English-gloss, densely interleaved with the free English translation on the printed page. Separating the free translation from the native-language interlinear apparatus at page scale could not be done to a reliable standard from this OCR text; rather than publish a hybrid of clean prose and leaked, broken interlinear fragments, this edition omits that material entirely. What is included here — Bogoras's own Introduction (his account of the expedition's fieldwork and a sketch of Chukchee phonetics) and the complete "Chukchee Tales" (twenty-four stories in four groups: Creation Tales, Miscellaneous Tales, War Tales, and Tales of Russianized Natives) — is free of that apparatus and could be cleaned to a normal standard of confidence. A reader wanting the omitted bilingual myths, incantations, songs, and proverbs should consult the archive.org scan directly.

Prepared for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, with AI-assisted transcription cleanup and editorial work from the public-domain scan.

A 2026-08 editorial pass rejoined words split by line- and page-break hyphenation, removed leaked running heads, bare page numbers, and a publisher's advertisement page that had intruded into the tale text, corrected a small number of certain-case OCR letterform errors (stray digits and characters standing in for ordinary punctuation and quotation marks, confirmed against the raw scan), and collected each tale's scattered, page-broken footnote markers into a single renumbered, italicized note list at the end of that tale, silently repositioning a handful of markers that the scan had attached to a tale or section heading to the opening line of that tale's body instead so as not to disturb heading anchors; uncertain OCR readings, a few unresolved stray marks with no recoverable footnote text, and the untranslated Chukchee-language passages were left as found.

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