Shamanism 205 



once or twice he passed his hand over his forehead as though to revive his 

 faculties. 



Up to this stage he had maintained an absolute silence. Now broken words 

 began to drop from his lips, elucidated by gestures, but the words were hardly- 

 more intelligible than the gesture language that had preceded them. Once he 

 ejaculated "What's this? Something being cooked, caribou meat." We 

 gathered that the seals were sleeping and that he had to go and stir them up. 

 Further, that he should be given liberal portions of any seals that might be 

 caught, because of his services in bringing them back to the hunting grounds. 

 At last he said taima taima "Enough, enough," passed his hand across his fore- 

 head and terminated his stance. 



In the general conversation that ensued Agluak reaffirmed that if the 

 women would refrain from sewing the men would have good luck again in their 

 sealing. But his shamanistic powers were not regarded very seriously by most 

 of the natives. He had dropped his mittens during the stance, and was looking 

 around for them when it was over; some one at the back of the hut threw them 

 into his face, causing a general laugh. The women resented his prohibition 

 against sewing and for the most part disregarded it. At least one of them 

 too had no scruples about boiling more caribou meat the very next day (the 

 house was built on the shore of one of the islands, and had gravel, not ice, beneath 

 the snow floor, so that she could say they were camped on the land, not on the 

 sea ice). Uloksak seemed to treat the whole matter as a joke, but then he was 

 somewhat of a free-thinker, at least as regarded some of his fellow-shamans. 

 With reference to my smoking, I told the natives that just as the smoke floated 

 up into the air, so the seals would float up to the surface, and they quite agreed 

 with this interpretation. 



Another shaman, Kuniluk, held a stance about half an hour after Agluak, 

 but I had left the dance-house. A month later he held another. The weather 

 had been very stormy all day, and the Eskimos, unable to go out sealing, had 

 spent most of their time in the dance-house. Kuniluk began in the usual manner 

 with an oration, followed by a sudden cry of pain. He clapped his hand to his 

 forehead and uttered a few more cries as his familiar, a dog, passed into his 

 body. Now he gazed wildly round the ring and began to jabber meaningless 

 syllables, accompanied by elaborate gestures of explanation. Once or twice 

 he was heard to say naukun naukun "Which way, which way", but no one 

 could understand what he meant. Occasionally he would direct his gibberish 

 to some definite individual, and the rest of the audience would tell that person 

 to assent. These proceedings lasted for about ten minutes, then suddenly 

 Kuniluk uttered some cries of pain, stooped down and howled like a dog, his 

 familiar. After a few howls he began to jabber again, still stooping. Thus he 

 continued for perhaps a quarter of an hour, then, with a few cries of pain, he 

 straightened up, and, speaking in his natural tongue, told the people that their 

 ill-luck in sealing was due to some of them having played cat's cradles after 

 the return of the sun, while others had sewn deerskin fringes on their coats 

 during the dark days. He then uttered a few more cries of pain as his familiar 

 left him, and the seance terminated. It had lasted altogether about an hour, 

 and left the man quite exhausted. Uloksak, who stood near me in the audience, 

 murmured in my ear just before it commenced, "Kuniluk is no shaman"; and 

 when it was ended he wanted me to tell Kunilik to give a real stance, as though 

 all that we had just 'witnessed were only the prelude. 



After Kuniluk had brought his performance to a close a woman named 

 Arnauyuk entered the circle and proposed to give a stance. The people encour- 

 aged her to proceed, so she began her preliminary oration; but before she had 

 proceeded very far she broke down in self-conscious laughter and the audience 

 laughed with her. She pulled herself together and began again, and again she 

 broke down, so, after one more unsuccessful attempt, she retired to the ring. 

 Her familiar, the natives said, had refused to take possession of her. 



