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-kÁPÍatin, 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 nÄskut 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 nÄskut 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 nÄskut they will be ashamed. So they safeguard themselves in advance.

The Ritual

Advancing with downcast eyes, the nÄskut 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 nÄskuk 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.
NanÁktuk, takÍna,
We wait for you, come hither.

To which the chorus answer:

IlyÚga awÚnga takÍna,
Our brother, come hither,
TakinÁka, ilyÚga, takÍnaka,
Return, dead brother, return.

The women advance in line, holding their wands in the right hand, and singing in unison; then the men advance in their turn, then both nÄskut and chorus sing together:

Takinaka, awÚnga, tungalika,
Return to us, our dead kinsmen,
NanakÁtuk, kineÁktuk tungalÍka
We wait your home coming, our dead kinsmen. Suddenly the drummers cease and rap sharply on the inglak with their drumsticks. The dancers stop in the midst of their movements and stamp on the floor, first with one foot then with the other, placing their hands on their shoulders, bringing them down over their bodies as though wiping off some unseen thing. Then they slap their thighs and sit down. I am informed that this is to “wipe off” any uncleanness (wahok) that might offend the shades of the dead.

Then the namesakes of the dead troop into the kÁsgi, and take their places in the center of the room between the two lines. To each, the nÄskuk hands a bowl of water and a kantag of frozen reindeer meat cut into small pieces. The namesakes drop a small portion of the meat on the floor. The essence is evidently thought to pass below to the waiting inua. Then they finish the remainder. At the same time a large amount of frozen meat and fish is brought in and distributed among the guests. This is done at the end of each day.

The fourth day the chorus leader mounts the top of the kÁsgi and begins again the invitation song. The people scatter to the burying ground or to the ice along the shore according to the spot where they have lain their dead. They dance among the grave boxes so that the shades who have returned to them, when not in the kÁsgi, may see that they are doing them honor.

During the dancing the children of the village gather in the kÁsgi, carrying little kantags and sealskin sacks. The women on returning bring great bags of frozen blueberries and reindeer fat, commonly called “Eskimo Ice Cream,” with which they fill the bowls of the children, but the young rogues immediately slip their portions into their sacks (pÓksrut) and hold out their dishes for more, crying in a deafening chorus, “Wunga-Tuk” (Me too). This part of the festival is thoroughly enjoyed by the Eskimo, who idolize their children.

At the conclusion of the day’s feast many presents are given away by the nÄskut, the husbands of the female feast givers distributing them for the ladies, who assume a bashful air. During the distribution the nÄskut maintain their deprecatory attitude and pass disparaging remarks on their gifts. Sometimes the presents are attached to a long line of Óklinok (seal thong) which the nÄskut haul down through the smokehole, making the line appear as long as possible. At the same time they sing in a mournful key bewailing their relative:

Ah-ka-ilyÚga toakÓra, tÁkin,
Oh! oh! dead brother, return,
UtiktutÁtuk, ilyÚga awÚnga,
Return to us, our brother,
IllearÚqtutuk, ilyÚga,
We miss you, dear brother,
PikeyÚtum, kokÍtutuk,
A trifling present we bring you.

The Clothing of the Namesakes

The following day occurs the clothing of the namesakes. This is symbolical of clothing the dead, who ascend into the bodies of their namesakes during the ceremony and take on the spiritual counterpart of the clothing.

After a grand distribution of presents by the nÄskut, bags of fine clothing are lowered to the feast givers and the namesakes take the center of the floor, in front of their relatives, the feast givers. Then each nÄskuk calls out to the particular namesake of his dead kinsman: “ItakÍn, illorahug-nÁka,” “Come hither, my beloved,” and proceeds to remove the clothing of the namesake and put on an entirely new suit of mukluks, trousers, and parka, made of the finest furs. Then the feast giver gathers up the discarded clothing, and stamps vigorously on the floor, bidding the ghost begone to its resting place. It goes, well satisfied, and the dancers disperse until another great festival. Until the feast is concluded no one can leave the village.