songs and dances, and receive the offerings of their relatives.

The Annual Feast is celebrated after the Bladder Feast during the December moon. By the Yukon tribes it is repeated just before the opening of spring. During the day of the festival a taboo is placed on all work in the village, particularly that done with any sharp pointed tool which might wound some wandering ghost and bring retribution on the people.

At midday the whole village gathers in the kásgi, and the ceremony begins. Soon the mourners enter bearing great bowls of food and drink which they deposit in the doorway. Then the chorus leader arises and begins the song of invitation accompanied by the relatives of the dead. It is a long minor chant, a constant reiteration of a few well worn phrases.

“Tukomalra-ā-, tung lík-a, tis-ká-a a-a-yung-a-a-yung-a, etc.
Dead ones, next of kin, come hither,
Túntum komúga thetámtatuk, móqkapik thetámtatuk moqsúlthka.
Reindeer meat we bring you, water we bring you for your thirst.”

When the song is completed the mourners arise, and going to the food in the doorway set it on the planks over the fireplace, after which they take a ladleful from each dish pouring it through the cracks in the floor, and the essence of this offering supplies the shades below with food until the next festival. The remainder of the food is distributed among those present. When the feast is over, the balance of the day is given over to songs and dances. Then the spirits are sent back to their homes by the simple expedient of stamping on the floor.

THE GREAT FEAST, AÍTHUKĀ́TUKHTUK

After making offerings to his relative at the annual feast the chief mourner begins saving up his skins, frozen meat, and other delicacies prized by the Eskimo, until, in the course of years, he has accumulated an enormous amount of food and clothing. Then he is prepared to give the great feast in honor of his kinsman. Others in the village, who are bereaved, have been doing the same thing. They meet and agree on a certain time to celebrate the feast together during the ensuing year. The time chosen is usually in January after the local feasts are over, and visitors from neighboring tribes are free to attend. There are no set intervals between these feasts as has been generally supposed. They are celebrated at irregular intervals according to the convenience of the givers.

At the minor festival preceding the Great Feast, the usual invitation stakes planted before the dead are supplemented by others placed before the graves of those in whose honor the festival is to be given. On these is a painted model of the totemic animals of the deceased. The feast giver sings an especial song of invitation, requesting the dead kinsman to be present at the approaching feast.

On the first day of the Great Feast the villagers welcome the guests. Early in the morning they begin to arrive. The messenger goes out on the ice and leads them into the village, showing each where to tie his team. During the first day the guests are fed in the kásgi. They have the privilege of demanding any delicacy they wish. After this they are quartered on various homes in the village. Salmon or meat must also be provided for their dogs. This is no small item, and often taxes the resources of a village to the utmost. I have known of a village so poor after a period of prolonged hospitality that it was reduced to starvation rations for the rest of the winter.

Immediately on tying up their dogs, the guests go to the kásgi. On entering each one cries in set phraseology, “Ah-ka-ká Píatin, Pikeyútum.” “Oh, ho! Look here! A trifling present.” He throws his present on a common pile in front of the headman, who distributes them among the villagers. It is customary to make the presents appear as large as possible. One fellow has a bolt of calico which he unwinds through the entrance hole, making a great display. It may be thirty yards long. Sometimes they accompany the gift with a short dance. It is considered bad form for one coming from a distance[23] not to make the usual present, as in this way he purchases the right to join in the festival dances.

As soon as all are gathered in the kásgi, a feast is brought in for the tired travelers. Kantags of sealmeat, the blackskin of the bowhead, salmon berries swimming in oil, greens from the hillsides, and pot after pot of tea take off the edge of hunger. After gorging themselves, the guests seem incapable of further exertion, and the remainder of the day is spent in visiting.

The Feast Givers

The feast givers or nä́skut assemble in the kásgi the second day, and the ceremony proper begins. They range themselves around the púgyarok or entrance, the chorus and guests occupying the back of the room and the spectators packing themselves against the walls.

Each feast giver is garbed according to the sex of his dead relative, not his own, so that some men wear women’s clothes and vice versa. Each bears in his right hand a wand about two feet long (Kelézruk).[24] This is a small stick of wood surmounted with tufts of down from ptarmigan (Okozregéwik). All are dressed to represent the totem to which the deceased belongs. One wears a fillet and armlet of wolfskin (Egóalik); others wear armlets of ermine (Táreak); still others are crowned with feathers of the raven (Tulúa) or the hawk (Tciakaúret).[25] After a short dance they withdraw and the day’s ceremony is finished.

The following day the nä́skut assemble again, but they have doffed their fine feathers, and are dressed in their oldest clothes. The suits of the day before they carry in a grass sack. They wear raincoats of sealgut tied about the waist with a belt of dogskin, and enter the kásgi with eyes cast on the floor. Even in the dances they keep their faces from the audience.

This attitude of humility is in accord with Eskimo ethics. They say that if they adopt a boastful air and fail to give as many presents as the other nä́skut they will be ashamed. So they safeguard themselves in advance.

The Ritual

Advancing with downcast eyes, the nä́skut creep softly across the kásgi and take their places before the funeral lamps. Then taking out their festival garments, they slip them on. Immediately the drummers start tapping lightly on their drums, and at a signal from their leader the song of invitation begins. Each nä́skuk advances in turn, invoking the presence of his dead in a sad minor strain.

Toakóra ílyuga takína
Dead brother, come hither
A-yunga-ayunga-a-yunga.

Or:

Nuleága awúnga toakóra
Sister mine, dead one,
Takína, núleaga, takína,
Come hither, sister, come hither.

Or:

Akága awúnga takína
Mother mine, come hither.