394 OUR ARCTIC PROVINCE. 



the centre of the kashga, when the oldest among the invited guests 

 sends them forth to call the dead. These messengers leave the 

 building, followed by the givers of this feast. After an absence of 

 ten minutes the former return, and through the underground pas- 

 sage the whole population of the village crowds in, from the old 

 and feeble down to children at the breast, and with them come the 

 masters of ceremonies, wearing long seal-skin gloves, and strings 

 of sea-parrot bills hanging about the breast and arms, with elab- 

 orate belts nearly a foot in width, consisting of white bellies of 

 unborn fawns trimmed with wolverine tails. All such ornaments 

 are carefully preserved and handed down from generation to gene- 

 ration, some of them being made of white sable an exceedingly 

 rare skin for which high prices are paid, as much as twenty or 

 thirty beavers or otters for one small skin. The women hold in 

 their hands one or two eagle-feathers, and tie around the head a 

 narrow strip of white sable. Each family, grouping itself behind 

 its own stone lamp, chants in turn in mournful measure a song com- 

 posed for the occasion. These songs are almost indefinitely pro- 

 longed by inserting the names of all the relatives of the deceased, 

 living and dead. The singers stand motionless in their places, and 

 many of those present are weeping. When a " song of the dead " 

 is concluded the people seat themselves, and their usual feasting 

 and gorging ensues. The next morning, after a bath (indulged in 

 by all the males), the multitude again assembles in this kashga. 

 The chanting around the fire-hole is renewed in the same mournful 

 tone, until one old man seizes a bladder drum and takes the lead, 

 accompanied by a few singers, and followed in procession by all 

 participants in the feast. They walk slowly to every sepulchre in 

 succession, halting before each to chant a mourning song ; all vis- 

 itors not belonging to the bereaved families in the meantime crowd 

 upon the sodded roofs of the houses and watch these proceedings. 

 In the evening all that remains of food in the village is set before 

 the people, and when every kantag is scraped of the last remnant 

 of its contents the feast is ended ; then those visitors at once depart 

 for their homes. 



Occasionally the giver of such a feast, desiring to do special 

 honor to the object of it, passes three days sitting naked upon a 

 mat in a corner of his kashga, without food or drink, chanting a 

 song in praise of a dead relative. At the end of such a fast any 

 or all visitors present gifts to him ; the story of his achievement 



