class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 27]"/> Meanwhile four men,[18] especially chosen for the purpose, scour the adjoining country for parsnip stalks. They bind these into small bundles, and place them on top of the látorak, the outer vestibule to the entrance of the kásgi. In the evening they take these into the kásgi, open the bundles and spread out the stalks on the floor. Then each hunter takes a stalk, and they unite in a song to the parsnip, the burden of which is a request that the stalks may become dry and useful for purification. The heat of the seal oil lamps soon dries them, and they are tied into one large bundle. The third day the sheaf is opened, and two bundles made. The larger one is for the use of the dancers; the smaller is placed on a spear and stuck in front of the bladders.

The fourth day the bladders are taken down and painted. A grayish mixture is used which is obtained by burning a few parsnip stalks and mixing the ashes with oil. The designs are the series of bands and dots grouped to represent the totems of the hunters. When the paint is dry the bladders are returned to their places.

In the evening the men gather again in the kásgi, and the dancers proceed to strip off every vestige of clothing. Snatching a handful of stalks at the common pile they light them at the lamps, and join in a wild dance about the room. The resinous stalks shoot into flame with a frightful glare, lighting up the naked bodies of the dancers, and dusky interior of the kásgi. Waving the flaming torches over their heads, leaping, jumping, and screaming like madmen they rush around the room, thrusting the flame among the bladders and then into the faces of the hunters. When the mad scene is at its height, they seize one another, and struggle toward the púgyarok (entrance hole). Here each is thrust down in succession until all the dancers have passed through. I am informed that this is a pantomime enactment, an indication to the inua it is time for them to depart.

The next day a hole is made in the ice near the kásgi, and each hunter dips his spear in the water, and, running back to the kásgi, stirs up the bladders with it. The presence of the sea water reminds the inua of their former home, and they make ready to depart. The bladders are then tied into one large bundle, and the people await the full moon.

At sunrise the morning after the full moon each hunter takes his load of bladders, and filing out of the kásgi starts for the hole in the ice on a dead run. Arriving there, he tears off the bladders one by one, and thrusts them under the water. This signifies the return of the inua to the sea.

As the bladders float or sink success is prophesied for the hunter by the shaman in attendance.

In the meantime the old men build a fire of driftwood on the ice in front of the kásgi. The small bundle of parsnip stalks which stood in front of the bladders is brought out and thrown on the fire, and as the stalks kindle to the flame, each hunter utters a shout, takes a short run, and leaps through in turn. This performance purifies the hunter of any matter offensive to the inua, and concludes the ceremony.

During the Bladder Feast all intercourse between the married men and their wives is tabooed. They are required to sleep in the kásgi with the bachelors. Neither is any girl who has attained puberty (Wingiktóak) allowed near the bladders. She is unclean (Wáhok).

The Feasts to the Dead

The Eskimo idea of the life after death and the rationale for their most important ritual, the Feast to the Dead, is nowhere better illustrated than in a quaint tale current along the Yukon, in which the heroine, prematurely buried during a trancelike sleep, visited the Land of the Dead. She was rudely awakened from her deathlike slumber by the spirit of her grandmother shaking her and exclaiming, “Wake up. Do not sleep the hours away. You are dead!” Arising from her grave box, the maiden was conducted by her guide to the world beneath, where the dead had their dwellings in large villages grouped according to the localities from which they came. Even the animal shades were not forgotten, but inhabited separate communities in human shape.[19] After some travel the girl found the village allotted to her tribe, and was reclaimed by her departed relatives. She was recognized by the totem marks on her clothing, which in ancient times the Eskimo always wore. She found the inmates of this region leading a pleasant but somewhat monotonous life, free from hardships and from the sleet and cold of their earthly existence. They returned to the upper world during the feasts to the dead, when they received the spiritual essence of the food and clothing offered to their namesakes[20] by relatives. According to the generosity or stinginess of the feast givers there was a feast or a famine in spirit land, and those who were so unfortunate as to have no namesake, either through their own carelessness[21] or the neglect of the community,[22] went hungry and naked. This was the worst calamity that could befall an Eskimo, hence the necessity of providing a namesake and of regularly feeding and clothing the same, in the interest of the beloved dead.

THE ANNUAL FEAST, AILĪ́GI

The Annual Feast to the Dead is a temporary arrangement, whereby the shades of those recently departed are sustained until the advent of the Great Feast to the Dead. The essence of the offerings of food and drink are supposed to satisfy the wants of the dead until they can be properly honored in the Great Festival. In the latter event the relative discharges all his social obligations to the dead, and the ghost is furnished with such an abundance that it can never want in the world below.

The makers of the feast (nä́skut) are the nearest relatives of those who have died during the past year, together with those villagers who have not yet given the greater festival. The day before the festival the male mourners go to the village burial ground and plant a newly made stake before the grave of their relative. The stake is surmounted by a wooden model of a spear, if the deceased be a man; or a wooden dish, if it be a woman. The totem mark of the deceased is carved upon it. In the north simple models of kayak paddles suffice. The sticks are a notification to the spirits in the land of the dead that the time for the festival is at hand. Accordingly they journey to the grave boxes, where they wait, ready to enter the kásgi at the song of invocation. To light their way from the other world lamps are brought into the kásgi and set before their accustomed places. When the invitation song arises they leave their graves and take their places in the fireplace (Kenéthluk), where they enjoy the