Long ago, in a big village on Shismarief Inlet, lived a chief who had one child, a daughter.

The chief’s brother died and left a little boy, without any one to take care of him, so the chief took the boy to live with him.

The boy and girl were cousins, and they had very happy times playing together.

One day they had been out making snowballs, and stopped to shake the snow off their parkas before coming into the house. The Eskimo parka is a sort of middy blouse with a hood attached to it. In winter these parkas are usually made of reindeer skin, with a big ruff of fur around the edge of the hood to protect the face. The best fur to trim the hood is that of the wolverine, for it does not collect moisture from the breath.

The children stamped their feet and brushed the snow from each other with small flat ivory sticks shaped for that purpose. In doing this the boy broke the beautiful string of beads which the girl wore around her neck.

Now these were very precious beads; and the boy was afraid of his uncle, and did not like to tell what he had done, but he bravely took his little cousin by the hand and went into the house trembling with fear. Walking up to the chief he said, Uncle, I am sorry but I broke the precious beads.

His uncle was furious. How did you do it? he asked, and the boy told him.

Now, said the uncle, I am going to kill you for that. Those beads were my sign of chief. Now you have broken the beads, the people will say I am no longer chief, and will make some one else chief instead of me. You will have to die.

He took the boy out of the house and led him to the kasga. There were many people in the kasga, but he drove them all out; then he took off the little boy’s clothes, and went away, leaving him all alone to die of cold and hunger. That cruel uncle closed the door, putting heavy pieces of wood against it, so that the little fellow could not push it open, and then went up to the top of the kasga, where he took the skin cover off from the round window hole, to let the cold air in. After that he went away.

When left alone in the cold without any clothes on, the little fellow started to run quickly around and around on the floor to keep warm.

Now in that village lived a man and wife who were very sad because they had no children of their own. These two people loved the little ones very dearly, and were good to all the children in the village; and the children were very fond of them in return for all their kindness.

Long after the chief had gone away from the kasga, and the little boy had run about until he was too tired to run any more, and could no longer keep warm, that kind man who loved little children came on top of the hut, put his head through the window hole, and called, Hello, and the little boy answered, Hello.

The man said, You are alive yet? Then he put his head through the window hole and handed a bundle of things to the boy.

I have brought you some food and some water in a bag, a little oil and a good warm sleeping-bag. Put the sleeping-bag under the floor, and get into it and keep warm.

When the kind man had gone away, the boy put the sleeping-bag through the hole which is in the middle of the floor of every kasga, then, after eating some of the food and drinking some of the water, he fell fast asleep inside the nice, warm bag.

Early in the morning the boy crept out of the hole on to the floor, like a little rat without any fur, and began to run around and around again, to keep warm. It was still dark because the sun is lazy, way up there in Alaska, and gets up very late. It was cold, too, icy cold.

With the first rays of daylight came the uncle’s footsteps on top of the kasga; then the surprised and angry face peering down at the boy through the window hole.

Now the chief had come up there expecting to find his nephew frozen stiff, and was not at all pleased to see him skipping about all bare and so lively. It made him more angry than ever, and he called down in a big, fierce voice, You are alive yet? as though he could not believe his own eyes.

The boy looked up without a word, and kept on running; then the uncle called him all kinds of names, and said, You try to keep alive as hard as you can. This is the last day for you. I’ll fix you. Then he went away.

The boy crept back into his warm bag. When it was getting dark again, he heard some one at the window hole calling, Hello.

The boy answered, Hello. Then the kind man said, Listen, your uncle is determined to kill you. He sent for the shaman and told him that he must kill you tonight. I cannot save you this time, for the shaman is more powerful than I. You must try your best to save yourself. So saying, the kind man went away.

It was night; dark, quiet and cold. The little boy stood shivering and wondering what was going to happen to him. Suddenly he heard a sound, a strange rustling sound. He was terrified, and thought of what the kind man had told him about the shaman, who was very powerful, and knew all kinds of magic.

The strange sound came nearer, and he could see by a light at the door that a big snake was coming near to him. Now, while there is a kind of water serpent in one part of the North, there are no real snakes in Alaska, so the boy had never seen one, and did not know what it was.

The big snake hissed at him and said, I will eat you up.

The boy was terribly frightened, but he was a brave little fellow, so he answered, All right, I am ready.

All the time he was looking desperately about for a weapon of some sort; but the only thing he saw was the skin of the flipper of a seal. This he pulled quickly onto his own right hand, which it fitted like a glove.

Come on, Snake, and eat me up, said he.

The big snake opened his mouth very wide, and quickly the boy thrust his hand with the seal claws on it down the snake’s long throat, and pulled out the snake’s stomach. Such an angry hissing as there was! Then the snake glided away very fast.

Early in the morning, knowing that his uncle would come to see if the shaman had killed him, the boy got out of his bag, and started to run around on the floor to keep warm.

Soon the uncle climbed to the top of the kasga and peered down through the window hole to see if the boy was there. When he saw his nephew running about, he was more angry than ever, and called down in a loud voice, Try as hard as you can to live, I will kill you. Then the boy heard the footsteps going away over the snow, and crept back into the sleeping-bag.

When it began to be dark, some one crept up to the window hole and said, Hello. It was the kind man, and happy indeed was the poor little boy to hear the voice of his friend.

The man was very much surprised to hear the boy’s answering Hello, and very much pleased, and said, Last night, the wicked shaman transformed himself into a snake and went out. In the morning he came crawling back without his stomach, and died. You killed that shaman, I am sure. Now tonight your uncle sent for the very highest shaman of all, and told him he must kill you himself. I am afraid he will succeed this time, with his great magic. You must try your very best to save yourself any way.

Leaving some food and water, the kind man went away, and the boy, shivering with cold and fright, crept back into his bag.

Pretty soon he heard a great noise by the door, and there was a bigger snake than before; a real monster this time. My! How scared that poor little boy was!

He looked about for a weapon to fight the snake with, but there was none.

Nearer and nearer came the horrible creature, with his mouth wide open.

Then the boy’s eyes fell upon the big stone lamp. It was very heavy, but he took it in his hands and went right up to the snake.

If you are going to eat me, Snake, he said, open your mouth as wide as you can, and swallow me quick. The snake hissed loudly, and opened his mouth very wide, and the boy threw the lamp right down the monster’s throat. When the snake had swallowed the lamp, he thought it was the boy and went out. After that the boy got into the bag as before and slept until morning.

As soon as it was daylight the chief came to see if the shaman had obeyed his command. He looked down through the window and saw the boy standing there looking up at him. He surely was surprised.

How dare you be alive? said he. This is the last day for you anyway. If the shaman can’t kill you, I will do it myself.

Long after the uncle had gone, when it began to be dark, some one came to the window hole and shouted, Hello! It was his friend, and how happy it made the little boy to hear that kind voice!

I am thankful that you are alive, said the voice. When the shaman came back last night, he said he had something heavy inside of him, and this morning he was dead. I am sure you killed the wicked shaman, but I fear you will be dead tomorrow yourself. Your uncle has told every man to try to kill you, but I brought you a little spear, and a bow, and a crown; also a warm parka, and some oil. When you put on your clothes, take some of this oil and grease yourself all over, then take some coals from one of the lamps and blacken your face. When you have done this, sit still until your uncle calls you; then go out.

After saying this and giving him the things, the man went away, and the boy was alone again; but this time he felt more hopeful, for did he not have a spear and a bow? And had he not a nice warm parka to put on? Then, too, he was going to get out, anything was better than staying there alone in the dark and cold.

In the morning the boy got up and put on his clothes, which fit as though made for him, and which felt so good and warm after having had no clothes at all for such a long time. He tried the little bow, and that was just the right size for him, too. When he had blackened his face, and put on the little crown, he sat down to wait for the chief.

He did not have long to wait. Pretty soon he heard the crunch, crunch, of footsteps coming over the snow; then the cruel voice of his uncle calling him to come out.

Now the little fellow knew that he was going through that door to be killed, but he took his spear and his bow, and went out as bravely as any man.

When he got outside he saw his uncle standing by the door with a big spear, and a crowd of people armed with spears and bows, all waiting to kill one little boy.

As soon as they saw him they raised a great howl, and hurled their spears at him and shot their arrows; but the weapons struck the oily surface of his parka and glanced aside without harming him at all. Then the boy hurled his spear at his uncle with all his might. It struck deep into his flesh, and the wicked man went off, howling like a dog, and never came back; for which every one was sincerely thankful.

After that the boy heard some one calling, and looking up he saw the kind man and his wife standing on the roof of their igloo, and they were shouting, Let us make him chief! Let us make him chief!

Then the people who wanted to kill him when the wicked uncle was there, shouted, He will be our chief now! He will be our chief! So the boy became chief, and went to live with the kind man and his wife, and took them for his parents and was good to them, just as they had been good to him when he was in trouble.

From that time on, the Eskimos have continued the custom of adopting little orphan children into their homes, and taking care of them; being very kind, and never like the wicked uncle at all.