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Once upon a time there lived on a solitary shore an Inung with his daughter Sedna. His wife had been dead for some time and the two led a quiet life. Sedna grew up to be a handsome girl and the youths came from all around to sue for her hand, but none of them could touch her proud heart. Finally, at the breaking up of the ice in the spring a fulmar flew from over the ice and wooed Sedna with enticing song. “Come to me,” it said; “come into the land of the birds, where there is never hunger, where my tent is made of the most beautiful skins. You shall rest on soft bearskins. My fellows, the fulmars, shall bring you all your heart may desire; their feathers shall clothe you; your lamp shall always be filled with oil, your pot with meat.” Sedna could not long resist such wooing and they went together over the vast sea. When at last they reached the country of the fulmar, after a long and hard journey, Sedna discovered that her spouse had shamefully deceived her. Her new home was not built of beautiful pelts, but was covered with wretched fishskins, full of holes, that gave free entrance to wind and snow. Instead of soft reindeer skins her bed was made of hard walrus hides and she had to live on miserable fish, which the birds brought her. Too soon she discovered that she had thrown away her opportunities when in her foolish pride she had rejected the Inuit youth. In her woe she sang: “Aja. O father, if you knew how wretched I am you would come to me and we would hurry away in your boat over the waters. The birds look unkindly upon me the stranger; cold winds roar about my bed; they give me but miserable food. O come and take me back home. Aja.”

When a year had passed and the sea was again stirred by warmer winds, the father left his country to visit Sedna. His daughter greeted him joyfully and besought him to take her back home. The father hearing of the outrages wrought upon his daughter determined upon revenge. He killed the fulmar, took Sedna into his boat, and they quickly left the country which had brought so much sorrow to Sedna. When the other fulmars came home and found their companion dead and his wife gone, they all flew away in search of the fugitives. They were very sad over the death of their poor murdered comrade and continue to mourn and cry until this day.

Having flown a short distance they discerned the boat and stirred up a heavy storm. The sea rose in immense waves that threatened the pair with destruction. In this mortal peril the father determined to offer Sedna to the birds and flung her overboard. She clung to the edge of the boat with a death grip. The cruel father then took a knife and cut off the first joints of her fingers. Falling into the sea they were transformed into whales, the nails turning into whalebone. Sedna holding on to the boat more tightly, the second finger joints fell under the sharp knife and swam away as seals (Pagomys fœtidus); when the father cut off the stumps of the fingers they became ground seals (Phoca barbata). Meantime the storm subsided, for the fulmars thought Sedna was drowned. The father then allowed her to come into the boat again. But from that time she cherished a deadly hatred against him and swore bitter revenge. After they got ashore, she called her dogs and let them gnaw off the feet and hands of her father while he was asleep. Upon this he cursed himself, his daughter, and the dogs which had maimed him; whereupon the earth opened and swallowed the hut, the father, the daughter, and the dogs. They have since lived in the land of Adlivun, of which Sedna is the mistress.

This tradition is handed down in an old song. I shall give the substance of it here, as it differs in some points from the above myth.

The story begins when the fulmar carries Sedna to his home and she discovers that he has brought her to a very wretched tent. The next year the father and a brother, whom I find mentioned nowhere else, came to visit her and take her home. The fulmar follows their boat and causes a heavy gale to rise which almost upsets it. The father cuts off her fingers, which are transformed into whales, seals, and ground seals. Besides, he pierces her eye and thus kills her. Then he takes the body into the boat and carries it to the shore. There he lays it on the beach and covers it with a dogskin. When the flood comes in it covers Sedna.

Sedna and her father are described by the angakut (see p. 591), who sometimes visit her house or see them when both dwell among the natives, as follows: She is very large and much taller than the Inuit. In accordance with the second form of the tradition she has only one eye and is scarcely able to move. Her father is also a cripple and appears to the dying, whom he grasps with his right hand, which has only three fingers.

There is a remarkable resemblance between this tradition and one related by Lyon (p. 362), who describes the religious ideas of the Iglulirmiut, more particularly the genii of one of their angakut. He says that the principal spirits are Aiviliajoq (Ay-willi-ay-oo) or Nuliajoq (Noo-le-ay-oo), a female spirit, and her father, Napajoq (Nap-payok) or Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig). Then he continues:

The former is in the first place the mother, protectress, and not unfrequently the monopolist of sea animals, which she sometimes very wantonly confines below, and by that means causes a general scarcity in the upper world. When this is the case, the angakok is persuaded to pay her a visit, and attempt the release of the animals on which his tribe subsist. I know not what ceremonies he performs at the first part of the interview; but as the spell by which the animals are held lies in the hand of the enchantress, the conjuror makes some bold attempts to cut it off, and, according to his success, plenty, more or less, is obtained. If deprived of her nails, the bears obtain their freedom; amputation of the first joint liberates the netsiq (Pagomys); while that of the second loosens the ugjuq (Phoca). Should the knuckles be detached whole herds of walrus rise to the surface; and should the adventurous angakoq succeed in cutting through the lower part of the metacarpal bones, the monstrous whales are disenthralled and delightedly join the other creatures of the deep. ***Her house is exceedingly fine, and very like a Kabluna (European) looking-glass(?); and, what is still more attractive to an Eskimo, it contains plenty of food. Immediately within the door of the dwelling, which has a long passage of entrance, is stationed a very large and fierce dog, which has no tail, and whose hinder quarters are black. ***Aiviliajoq is described as being equally wonderful in her personal appearance as in her actions. She is very tall and has but one eye, which is the left, the place of the other being covered by a profusion of black hair. She has one pigtail only, contrary to the established fashion in the upper Eskimo world, which is to wear one on each side of the face, and this is of such immense magnitude, that a man can scarcely grasp it with both hands. Its length is exactly twice that of her arm, and it descends to her knee. The hood of her jacket is always worn up. ***

Her father has but one arm, the hand of which is covered by a very large mitten of bearskin. ***He is not larger than a boy of ten years of age. He bears the character of a good, quiet sort of person and is master of a very nice house, which, however, is not approachable, on account of the vast herds of walrus lying round it, which, with numerous bears, make a terrific howling. ***He has nothing to eat, and does not even require it; in which particular he differs widely from his daughter, who has a most voracious appetite. I know not if he is the father of all terrestrial animals, but he is certainly their patron, and withholds them at times from the Eskimo.

The name of the father, Anautalik (An-now-ta-lig), i.e., the man with something to cut (with a knife), is very remarkable. Besides, it is interesting that the angakoq who visits the dwelling of Nuliajoq has to cut off her hand in order to liberate the sea animals. In the tradition related in the foregoing, Sedna has another name, to wit, Uinigumisuitung, i.e., she who would not have a husband; her father, Savirqong, i.e., the man with the knife. Often he is only called Anguta, her father.

It is evident that Nuliajoq is identical with Sedna, though some peculiarities exist in the tradition as related by Lyon which it is rather difficult to reconcile with the myth as it is related among the Oqomiut. It seems to me that this difficulty arises from the mixing up of the angakoq’s visit to Sedna with the tradition itself. Indeed Lyon only refers to the angakoq’s visit to Nuliajoq, whom he considers a genius of a great angakoq, though he remarks in another place (p. 363) that she “has a boundless command over the lives and destinies of mankind.”

The tale of the angakoq’s visit makes the tradition very similar to the Greenland myth of Arnaquagsaq, i.e., the old woman. According to Cranz (p. 264) and to Rink (p. 40) this spirit has her abode in the depth of the ocean. She represents the source of nourishment, supplying the physical wants of mankind. She sits in her dwelling in front of a lamp, beneath which is placed a vessel which receives the oil that keeps flowing down from the lamp. From this vessel, as well as from the dark interior of her hut, she sends out all the animals which serve for food, but in certain cases withholds the supply, thus causing want and famine. The reason for thus withholding the supply was that certain filthy and noxious parasites fastened themselves upon her head, of which she could only be relieved by an angakoq. Then she could be induced again to send out the animals for the benefit of man. In going to her he (the angakoq) had first to pass the Arsissut and then to cross an abyss, in which, according to the earliest authors, a wheel as slippery as ice was constantly turning around; then, having safely passed a boiling kettle with seals in it, he arrived at the house, in front of which watch was kept by terrible animals, sometimes described as seals, sometimes as dogs; and, lastly, within the house passage itself, he had to cross an abyss by means of a bridge as narrow as a knife edge.

About the same tale is found among the Baffin Land tribes; according to Captain Spicer, of Groton, Conn., she is called Nanoquagsaq by the Akuliarmiut. She is visited by the angakut, who liberate the sea animals by subduing her or rather by depriving her of a charm by which she restrains the animals.

I am inclined to think that the form in which Lyon gives this tradition is not quite correct, but is a mixture of the Sedna myth and that of the angakoq’s visit to Arnaquagsaq. This seems the more probable from a Greenland tale which Dr. Rink kindly communicated to me, in which it is related that the grandfather of Arnaquagsaq cut off her fingers, which were changed into sea animals.

For this reason it is most probable that Arnaquagsaq, Sedna, and Nuliajoq proceed from the same myth, though the traditions differ from one another as they are related by the travelers. In the mythology of the central tribes this character has a much more decided influence upon their religious belief than the Arnaquagsaq of the Greenlanders seems to have had.

The myth of Sedna is confused with another which treats of the origin of the Europeans and of the Adlet (see p. 637). The legends are in part almost identical. Sedna orders her dog to gnaw off her father’s feet; Uinigumisuitung’s children maim their grandfather in the same way; and, besides, Sedna’s second name is also Uinigumisuitung. In both tales the father is called Savirqong. In Lyon’s Private Journal (p. 363) an important statement is found to the effect that the dog which protects Nuliajoq’s dwelling is by some natives called her husband, by others merely her dog, but that he is generally considered the father of Erqigdlit (identical with Adlet, p. 637) and Qadlunait (Europeans).

Finally, I must record the legend of the origin of the walrus and the reindeer, which is closely related to the Sedna tradition. I could never learn any other reason why the use of sea animals and reindeer at the same period should be forbidden, except the fear of offending Sedna. She is represented as disliking the deer, which accordingly are not found in her house. Any reason for this dislike is not given. The Akuliarmiut, however, have a tradition that a woman, most probably Sedna herself, created the walrus and the reindeer during a famine. She opened her belly and took out a small piece of fat which she carried up the hills where it was transformed by a magic spell into a reindeer. As soon as she saw the animal she became frightened and ordered it to run away, but the deer turned upon her and would not go; then she became angry and knocked out its teeth. It turned round at once, but before it could leave she gave it a kick which lopped off its tail. Thus it happened that the deer is deficient as to certain teeth and has scarcely any tail. The woman, however, continued to hate the deer. Afterward she descended to the beach and threw another piece of fat into the water. It was transformed into a walrus, which swam away at once. (According to a communication of Captain Spicer.)

The form of this tradition as related by the Akudnirmiut is somewhat different. During a famine a woman (I could not learn whether she was identical with Sedna or not) carried her boots to the hills and transformed them by magic into deer, which spread all over the country. Then she carried her breeches to the sea, where they were changed into walrus. The first deer, however, had large tusks and no horns, while the walrus had horns and no tusks. The Eskimo soon found that this was very dangerous for the hunter, as the deer killed pursuers with their tusks, while the walrus upset the boats. Therefore an old man transferred the horns to the deer and the tusks to the walrus.

It is very probable that this woman was Sedna, as the Eskimo affirm that the observances referring to walrus and deer are commanded by Sedna and as the first tradition accounts for her dislike of the deer.

I could not find any trace of the tradition reported by Lyon, that Anautalik, Nuliajoq’s father, is the protector of land animals, nor of that of a being to whom he refers by the name of Pukimna (derived from pukiq, the white parts of a deerskin), who lives in a fine country far to the west and who is the immediate protectress of deer, which animals roam in immense herds around her dwelling.

Sedna is the mistress of one of the countries to which the souls go after death. It has been related in the foregoing tradition of Sedna and the fulmar that she descended to Adlivun; since that time she has been the mistress of the country, and when invoked as such has the name of Idliragijenget. She has a large house, in which no deerskins are found. There she lives with her father, each occupying one side of it. The father, who is unable to move, lies on the ledge and is covered with old skins. In the entrance across the threshold lies Sedna’s dog watching her house. Like her, the father has only one eye, and he never moves from his place while in the house.

The dead, who are seized by Sedna’s father, Anguta, are carried to this dwelling. The dog moves aside only a little, just enough to allow the souls to pass. They have to stay in this dismal abode during a whole year, lying by the side of Anguta, who pinches them.

The happy land is heaven and is called Qudlivun (the uppermost ones). It abounds with deer, which are easily caught, and no ice or snow ever visits it.

The Oqomiut and the Akudnirmiut make a distinction between Adlivun and Adliparmiut. Adlivun means “those who live beneath us;” Adliparmiut, “the inhabitants of the country farthest below us;” and the same difference exists between Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. Though these names intimate the probability that the Eskimo believe in a series of places, located in a descending scale, each below the other, I could not find any more detailed description of the conception.

Hall’s observations agree fairly with my own. He says (I, p. 524):

Qudliparmiut (heaven) is upward. Everybody happy there. All the time light; no snow, no ice, no storms; always pleasant; no trouble; never tired; sing and play all the time—all this to continue without end.

Adliparmiut (hell) is downward. Always dark there. No sun; trouble there continually; snow flying all the time, terrible storms; cold, very cold; and a great deal of ice there. All who go there must always remain.

All Inuit who have been good go to Qudliparmiut; that is, who have been kind to the poor and hungry, all who have been happy while living on this earth. Any one who has been killed by accident, or who has committed suicide, certainly goes to the happy place.

All Inuit who have been bad—that is, unkind one to another—all who have been unhappy while on this earth, will go to Adliparmiut. If an Inung kills another because he is mad at him, he will certainly go to Adliparmiut.

Kumlien’s remarks on this subject, as well as on other ethnographic subjects, are not trustworthy. He has transferred Greenland tales to Cumberland Sound, though the traditions of these tribes differ materially one from the other. I tried hard to corroborate his statements concerning the amaroq and the tornarsuq, concerning certain customs, &c., and am convinced that they are totally unknown to all the natives of Baffin Land from Nugumiut to Tununirn.

Kumlien states that the better land is below the surface of the earth and that those who are killed by violence descend after death. According to Hall and to replies to my own inquiries, it is quite the reverse. Lyon’s report is extremely interesting, particularly his description of the stages of the nether world, of which I could only find a scanty hint in the names. He says (p. 372):

There are two places appointed to receive the souls of the good: one of these is in the center of the earth, the other in qilaq, or heaven. To the latter place, such as are drowned at sea, starved to death, murdered, or killed by walruses or bears, are instantly wafted, and dwell in a charming country, which, however, has never been seen by any angakoq. ***

The place of souls in the world below is called Adli generally; but there are, properly, four distinct states of blessedness, and each rank has a world to itself, the lowest land being the last and best, which all hope to reach. The day on which a good person dies and is buried, the soul goes to a land immediately under the visible world; and, still descending, it arrives the second day at one yet lower; the third day it goes farther yet; and on the fourth it finds, “below the lowest deep, a deeper still.” This is the “good land,” and the soul which reaches it is for ever happy. The three first stages are bad uncomfortable places for in each the sky is so close to the earth, that a man cannot walk erect: yet these regions are inhabited; and the good soul, in passing through them, sees multitudes of the dead, who, having lost their way, or, not being entitled to the “good land,” are always wandering about and in great distress. Whether these unhappy souls are in purgatory or not, I was unable to learn; but they suffer no other pain than what we would call the “fidgets.” In the lowest Adli a perpetual and delightful summer prevails.

The belief of these tribes undoubtedly is that all who die by accident or by violence and women who die in childbirth are taken to the upper world. I never heard a different opinion expressed by any native. I do not know whether they believe in a series of upper worlds similar to the nether worlds of the Iglulirmiut, but it is probable, from the names Qudlivun and Qudliparmiut. In the Greenland tradition the upper world is represented as a country with hills and valleys, over which the solid blue sky is expanded. Sedna of the Oqomiut lives in Adlivun, and here the souls must stay one year after death. Everybody who dies from disease or who has offended Sedna by infringing her orders is taken to her. The Eskimo are in great fear of the terrors of her abode. Murderers and offenders against human laws, after they have entered Sedna’s house, will never leave it; the other souls, however, are taken to the Adliparmiut, where they live comparatively at their ease, although they are not nearly so blessed as the Qudliparmiut. They hunt whales and walrus and are almost always troubled by ice and snow.

The older authors on Greenland mythology state that the conceptions of the natives do not coincide (Cranz). According to one tradition the good land is below, and tornarsuq, the supreme tornaq, is master of it. Here continuous summer prevails and there is plenty of fresh water, with a profusion of game. Only those people are allowed to come here who have been good hunters and workers, who have accomplished great exploits, caught many seals, who have suffered much, or have died by violence or in childbirth. The souls of the deceased must slide for five days, or even longer, down a steep rock, which has become quite slippery from the blood which has been sprinkled over it. Those who have been lazy and unfit for working go to the upper world, where they suffer from scarcity of food. Particularly the bad and witches are taken to this country, where they are tormented by ravens.

Another tradition places the good land in heaven. The souls travel on the rainbow to the moon, near which they find a large lake abounding with fowls and fish. Rink gives the following statement on this subject (p. 37):

After death, human souls either go to the upper or to the under world. The latter is decidedly to be preferred, as being warm and rich in food. There are the dwellings of the happy dead called arsissut,—viz, those who live in abundance. On the contrary, those who go to the upper world will suffer from cold and famine; and these are called the arssartut, or ball players, on account of their playing at ball with a walrus head, which gives rise to the aurora borealis.

While the Iglulirmiut believe that the soul leaves the body immediately after death and descends to Adli, the tribes of Davis Strait suppose that it lingers three days around the body, unable to leave it. Then it descends to Sedna’s house. During its stay in Adlivun the soul is called tupilaq, which is represented by the figure of a man with wide, loose, shabby clothing. It is looked upon as a malevolent spirit, frequently roaming around the villages. The tupilaq is not allowed to enter the houses, and if the angakoq perceives and announces his presence no one would dare to leave the houses. His touch kills men at once, the sight of him causes sickness and mischief. As soon as the soul has become an adliparmio, it is at rest and ceases to be feared as a tupilaq.

It is worth remarking that the Greenlanders designate with the name of tupilaq a supernatural being made by men for the purpose of destroying their enemies (Rink, p. 53). It is composed of various parts of different animals and is enabled to act in the shape of any of them at will. I have not found any trace of this idea among the Central Eskimo.