Тан-Богораз Владимир Германович
The Chukchee

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  • Аннотация:
    Vol. 3


of the

American Museum of Natural History

Volume XI.

Part III. -- The Chuckchee - Social Organization by W. Bogoras 1909


Leiden, E. J. BRILL Ltd.,

Printers and Publishers, 1904.

New York, G, E. STECHERT & Co.

American Agents.




   Man in the Family. -- The units of social organization among the Chukchee are quite unstable, excepting the family, which forms the basis of the social relations between members of the tribe. Even family ties are not absolutely binding, and single persons often break them and leave their family relations. Grown-up sons frequently leave their parents and go away to distant localities in search of a fortune. The youths of the Reindeer tribe descend to the coast, and those of the Maritime Chukchee go inland to live with the reindeer-breeders. Not a few of the Chukchee tales open with a description of the life of a lone man who does not know any other people, and who lives in a wild place. It may be said that a lone man living by himself forms the real unit of Chukchee society. Even woman, whose social position is much inferior to that of man, sometimes breaks away from father or husband and goes to live with other people, though the family may pursue her, and, if she is caught, bring her back by force. Such cases will be described later on in detail.
   I do not know of any cases of this kind happening among the Tungus, where the family and clan organization are much stronger. Tungus families often separate from, the clan in search of new hunting-grounds, but a single person never leaves his family; and even an isolated family will retain the memory of its connection with the clan for a long time. The Lamut of the Chaun country, who consist of stragglers from all the clans living farther to the south, still consider themselves as belonging to particular clans; though this connection has at present no real force, because of the distance of their habitat from that of their clans. No such remembrance lingers among Chukchee who have left their families. Once separated, they are entirely separated from them.
   System of Relationship. -- In the Chukchee system of relationship the paternal line preponderates to a marked degree over the maternal. The first is designated as "that coming from the old male (buck)" (kirfiai'pu-wa'lin, also kirñe'-tu'mgin, {Kirñe'-tu'mgin or kirña'-taka'lhin means also generally "older relative;" kirñe'-yi'čemit-tu'mgin, "older brother." For taka'lhun see p. 540.} "old male [buck] mate") or as "that coming from the penis" (yaêlhê'pu-wa'lin). The second is designated as "that coming from the matrix" (kiyolhê'pu-wa'lin). The paternal relatives are also called "those of the same blood" (Enne'n-mu'Lilit), meaning the blood with which the usual sacrificial anointment is administered. It has been stated before {Compare p. 360.} that at the time of ceremonials the people paint their faces with blood, and that persons of the same paternal line of descent use the same marks, which descend from generation to generation. In the same sense, people of the same paternal descent, the "old male companions," are also called "those of the same fire" (Enna'n-yi'nla3t), because they have community of fire. Paternal relationship is considered to be much stronger than maternal relationship. There is a Chukchee saying which has it that even a distant relative on the father's side is much nearer to the heart than a maternal cousin. The terms of relationship are as follows: --


   A3ttu'uLѳ3n ("fore-goer") -- Forefather.
   Ya'aLa3n ("behind-goer") -- Descendant.
   Mi'rgin {One can also say ELi'w-mi'rgin ("paternal grandfather") and ELa'-me'rgin ("maternal grandfather"), though generally the first part of the word is omitted. Children use also the terms apai'nin ("grandfather") and epe'qäi ("grandmother"), which are, the former an augmentative, and the latter a diminutive, form from e'pl ("father"). The latter word, however, is rarely used, and belongs rather to the Koryak language. Another diminutive, epe'pil (literally, "little father"), is attributed to the Christian priest, and with this meaning it has been adopted by the Chukchee.} -- Grandfather and great-uncle.
   Ñew-mi'rgin (ñe, ñew, "woman") -- Grandmother and great-aunt.
   Endi'w -- Uncle, {These may be distinguished as ELi'hmdiw ("paternal uncle") and ELa'ndêw ("maternal uncle").} paternal and maternal.
   Eččai'-- Aunt, {Uncles and aunts once removed are designated by the same terms.} paternal and maternal.
   ELi'hm (address: a'tê, "papa") -- Father.
   ELa' (address: ä'mmê, "mamma") {Ä'mmê probably means the mother's breast; ä'tê and ä'mmê are used mostly by young children, mpina'čhin and inplñe', which, according to Nordquist, were mentioned by several authors as terms for "father" and "mother" respectively, in reality have the meaning "old man" and "old woman." Both are derived from inp, the root of the adjective ni'npiqên ("he is old").} -- Mother.
   ELi'hit ("fathers") -- Parents.
   Yi'čemit-tu'mgin {In all derivations, only the first stem is used. Tu'mgitum (pl. tu'mgit, stem tu'mgi) means "companion," "mate," also "kinsman." A husband, speaking of his wife, calls her gumni'n tu'mgitum (my mate"). Gretu'mgilin means "one with companions," "one with kinsmen," "one with influence." It is used as a compound in several terms referring to degrees of relationship, in various combinations, sometimes only between males, at other times only between females, and even also between males and females.} ("fellow-brother") -- Brother.
   Ine'elin -- Elder brother.
   ELe'ñi -- Younger brother. {The terms for "elder brother" and "younger brother" are relative; i.e., all brothers older than myself are my me'elit, and all biothers younger than myself are my ELe'nyut (pl.) More detailed terms are used as follows: êna'n-Ina'alin, "the oldest brother;" êna'n-ELa'ñê, "the youngest brother;" wu'thrtče3n, "the middle (brother)." ine'elin ("elder brother") and ELe'ñi ("younger brother") are used both by males and females; but the former term is pronounced by women mi'nelin, according to the rules of female pronunciation, in which contractions are avoided. The elder sister is also called ine'elin or ine'nelin (by males and females). ELe'ñi is used for the younger brother only.}
   Ča'kihêt -- Sister (said by male).
   I'npiči-ča'kihêt -- Elder sister (said by male).
   Wu'thitčä-ča'kihêt or wu'thitče3n -- Middle sister (said by male).
   Ñe'nča-ča'kihêt ("younger sister") -- Younger sister (said by male).
   Ča'kêt-tѳ'mgin ("sister-mate") -- Sister (said by female).
   I'npiči-ča'kêt-tѳ'mgin ("elder sister-mate") -- Elder sister (said by female).
   Wu'thitčä-ča'kêt-tѳ'mgin ("middle sister-mate") -- Middle sister (said by female).
   Ñê'nča-ča'kêt-tѳ'mgin ("younger sister-mate") -- Younger sister (said by female).
   Yê3'lhi-tѳ'mgin ("cousin-mate"), more rarely
   Yês'lo -- Male cousin, paternal and maternal.
   Ñaw-yê3'lhi-tѳ'mgin (in respect to male cousins) {Women use the term ñaw'gêl, which is the female pronunciation of ñaw-yê3'lhi.} -- Female cousin, paternal and maternal.
   E'kik -- Son.
   Ñe'ekik -- Daughter.
   ELu'ê (pl. ELu'wgot) -- Grandson and nephew.
   Ñaum'ê -- Grand-daughter and niece.
   ELo'o-tѳ'mgin {Female pronunciation, ELu'wgo-tѳ'mgin. eloo and ELu'e are related.} -- Parents' cousin's son.
   ÑauLo'o-tѳ'mgin {Female pronunciation, ñauLu'wgo-tѳ'mgin. Women among themselves use simply the term ñaw'gêl.} -- Parents' cousin's daughter.
   Of all these terms, a collective may be formed by means of the word -ret, -rat, which signifies "collection," "set," and is used only in combination with others. Thus, yičemre't, "company of brothers;" čakê'ttirat, "company of sisters" (in regard to the male relatives); yê3'lhirat, "company of male cousins;" kret, "company of boys" (k shortened for kmi'ñin, "boy," "child").
   The fourth degree of relationship is designated by means of the stem yi'lhi, which signifies "link," "junction." Thus, yi'lhi-mi'rgin, "great-grandfather;" yilh-ELu'ê, "great-grandson;" yilhiLo'o-tѳ'mgin, "male cousin twice removed," etc.
   The more remote degrees of relationship are designated as čimče'kin, "the near one;" or čiče'tkin, čiče'Leñ, "kinsman." The compass of the second term is larger than that of the first.
   All degrees of step-relations are designated with the suffix -lqäl, meaning "intended for." {For instance, uwä'3qučilqäl ("intended for husband"), "bridegroom;" ñe'wänliqäl ("intendedfor wife"), "bride."} Thus ELi'hilqäl, "step-father;" ELa'lqäl, step-mother," also, in polygamous families, "another wife of my father;" ñee'kkelqäl, "step-son;" nee'kkelqäl, "step-daughter;" yi'čemit-tu'mgälqäl, "step-brother;" čakê'ttilqäl, "step-sister" (in repect to the brother), etc. Even new-mi'rgilqäl, "step-grandmother," is often used in polygamous families.
   Affinity is designated as follows: --


   Mata'lin {From the verb mata'rkm ("thou takest," "thou takest to wife").} -- Father-in-law.
   Ñaw-mata'lin -- Mother-in-law.
   intu'ulpEr -- Son-in-law.
   Inte' -- Daughter-in-law.
   Aačê'w-mata'lin {Aa'čêk means "young man;" ñe'us.qät means "woman." These terms are used by both wedded parties. Sometimes they say also Endêw-mata'lin ("wife's uncle") and Eččai'ñaw-mata'lin ("wife's aunt").} -- Brother-in-law.
   Ñaučhän-mata'lin {Aa'čêk means "young man;" ñe'us.qät means "woman." These terms are used by both wedded parties. Sometimes they say also Endêw-mata'lin ("wife's uncle") and Eččai'ñaw-mata'lin ("wife's aunt").} -- Sister-in-law.
   Taka'lhin -- Husband of wife's sister.
   Umi'rit -- Son-in-law's or daughter-in-law's father.
   Ñeumi'rit ("woman umi'rit") -- Son-in-law's or daughter-in-law's mother.
   Relatives by affinity are called collectively mata'lit (pl.) or mata'li-ra'mkin ("affinity people").
   Men married to two sisters call each other taka'lhin. Taka'lhin more properly signifies "brace-companion;" for instance, one of the two reindeer harnessed to the sledge. Pitka'-taka'lhin signifies "twin-brother" (literally, "double-companion"). The degree of affinity thus indicated is considered to be very strong. In olden times it was considered even stronger than brotherhood. Taka'lhin kirña'-yê'čamêt-tѳmgê'pu pa'roč signifies "man of the wife's sister (is) of the old-male-brother beyond." An old proverb says, "Man of the wife's sister is on the same lake shore a fall-companion" (taka'lhin Enna'n-hi'thiliñki rilte'l-tѳ'mgin). This means that both are to fight and fall together. The Chukchee say that if one taka'lhin sees the blood of the other drawn by an enemy, he will rush forward again and again until his own body lies on the same spot. Perhaps this relation may be considered as a survival of group-marriage, although at present group-marriage between the taka'lhit exists but rarely. The group-marriage, and the degree of relationship based on it, will be described later on.
   The family is designated as ra'yinn ("houseful," or simply "those in the house"), yara'-tѳ'mgit ("house-mates"); but both these terms relate, properly speaking, to the house and those living in it. The house with those living in it forms the real basis of the Chukchee family. Members of the family who have left the house (or, among the Reindeer Chukchee, the camp) lose their connection with the household and also with the family.
   The system of consanguinity and affinity is represented in the following table:



   For the female the system is practically the same, except that in the table of affinity the taka'lhin ("wife's sister's husband") relation is not found.
   The Family Group. -- A group of kindred families is designated by the term va'rat (literally, "collection of those who are together"). Va is the root of the verb va'rkin ("thou art"), -ret, -rat, signifies "collection" (see p. 539). A member of the same family-group is called Ena'n-vara'tkên ("one of the same va'rat"). In modern times, however, this term has acquired a broader meaning, and is used in the sense of "people," "folk;" though for the latter idea there exists another word, re'mkin ("people," "folk"). Still another term for the family-group is more characteristic. It is či'n-yinn ("collection of those who take part in blood-revenge"). Cin is the stem of the word li'ñliñ ("heart" {In Chukchee phonetics č and l often replace each other.}), but is used also for blood-revenge. Li'ñilin means "blood-avenger." This term či'n-yirm is used frequently, because the vendetta still exists in full vigor.
   The Chukchee va'rat may perhaps be called an embryo of a clan; it is unstable, however, and the number of families that "are together" changes almost every year. Moreover, when one va'rat picks a quarrel with another one (usually one living in the neighborhood), there will always be a few families that are connected equally with both interested parties. The centre of the va'rat forms a group of brothers, and secondarily a group of cousins, both of which are called "a group of boys." A proverb says, "The group of boys is disposed to scoff" (Kra'tičhin mko'raqên). This means that numerous brothers who keep together may abuse any of their neighbors with impunity. On the other hand, the lonesome one (kuwli'kilin) is always downcast. He speaks humbly, he lives in poverty, and is subjected to the abuse of families consisting of many people.
   In cases of blood-revenge, brothers and cousins are the first to come forward. For instance, in the year 1895, among the Chukchee of the Big Anui River, two young men of different families disputed over the dividing of a mammoth-tusk which they had found in the tundra. In the ensuing quarrel one of them picked up his rifle and shot at the other, though without success. A quarrel among the families ensued. The man shot at belonged to a numerous family; he had several uncles, each of whom had sons. He had also four adult brothers. The whole number of his male companions was twenty-two, and all of them were his nearest relatives. The offender, on the other hand, belonged to a small family. Therefore, when the offended family began to talk about revenge and threatened to attack the chief camp of their enemies, the offender left the camp and travelled sixty miles to the nearest Russian village. There he spent six or eight weeks, and felt wretched all the time, for the Reindeer Chukchee do not like to stay in Russian houses any longer than necessary, because the close air of the log-cabin, and the fish diet, are unbearable to them. During this time his people in the camp negotiated with the other party, and in the end the affair was smoothed over, even without ransom, since the pride of the offended family was satisfied with the flight ,of the other man and his wretched life among the Russians. It will be noticed that the quarrel was settled between the families, not between the family-groups.
   In another case of a similar kind, nine members of the offended family came to the offender to make a demonstration of their strength. All were brothers, cousins and uncles of the offended one. It came to the drawing of knives, though no blood was shed.
   Once in my presence two young Chukchee wrestled, and one vanquished the other. I mentioned before that wrestling-matches lead to quarrels among this excitable people. The father of the vanquished wrestler, who was present, grew very angry, and said to the victor, "Wait a while! Do you take us for a bad family, brotherless and cousinless? This young man has seven brothers. They are quite young now, but they will grow up; and all of them will be against you."
   In folk-stories, blood-revenge and retaliation for insults are also undertaken, almost always by near relatives only. {Further details will be given when dealing with blood-revenge.}
   The organization of the Reindeer Chukchee camp depends upon the relations of the family-group. The Chukchee camp has a front house, the place of which is determined by the seniority of its owner. Other houses are located according to certain rules, based for the most part on the mutual family relations of the owners. For all that, the organization of the camp is unstable and loose, just as much so as that of the Chukchee family-group. {See Chapter XX.}
   In former times a union of "those that are together" was of a stricter character and really formed something like a clan. A unit of this kind included ten or fifteen families, who always camped near together. In summer, when near the seashore, they formed usually one large camp. Some of the young men were with the herd, which at that time was not numerous. The others were occupied with fishing and seal-hunting. {This state of things still exists among those of the Maritime Koryak of the Pacific shore who also have reindeer-herds. Each village forms a separate family-group.} The people occupied their leisure time with athletic exercise, wrestling, running, fencing with spears, etc. They were more ready for war, which was more frequent than it is now. In war the family-group acted as a unit against all other parties.
   The Russian officials of the Kolyma country, when endeavoring to bring the Chukchee under Russian allegiance, treated them in the same way as the Yakut and the Tungus of eastern Siberia. These tribes had strictly organized clans (родъ, pl. роды), which could not intermingle as readily as the Chukchee va'rat. The Cossacks and their chiefs, when subjugating these tribes, taxed each clan separately. Therefore Russian officials, when trying to levy tribute on the Chukchee, invented clans and even clan-chiefs. {Sarytcheff knew the political organization of the tribe. He wrote, "The Chukchee have no chiefs or authorities. Each community has a man who is richer than the others, or who has a larger family; but he also is little obeyed and has no right to punish anybody" (Sarytcheff, Journey in the Northeastern Part of Siberia, II, p. 107).} Baron von Maydell, who was the chief official of the Kolyma district in 1868--70, even invented a new rank and title, "The Highest Chief of all the Chukchee." This sounds almost royal; and, indeed, the Russians sometimes called the person having this rank "Chukchee King," "Black King of the Tundra," "Chukchee Czar." All this was quite imaginary. The family that was given this title was simply a rich reindeer-breeding family with some influence among its neighbors. I lived with this family for a few months, and shall speak of it later on in greater detail. {See Chapter XXIII.}
   The clans introduced by the Russians were also invented, and had no standing in the aboriginal organization of the tribe. The whole territory of the Chukchee was divided into five parts; and each of these parts, with the people living in it, was called a "clan." Some rich reindeer-breeder among those friendly disposed to the Russians was called "chief," and that was all. The Chukchee living beyond the sphere of influence of the Russian officials in the tundra to the west of the Chaun River and on the Chukchee Peninsula, reindeer-breeders and maritime hunters, were called "the maritime clan." Even the tribute was nominal, -- 247 rubles from all the clans', -- though the Chukchee tribe has several thousand adult men. This tribute is paid in the following way. In the parts of the territory nearest to the Russian settlements, at least every other family pays a tribute of one ruble. It is understood that this sum represents the tribute of one man, as among the Tungus and the Yakut; {Maydell also tried to introduce among the Reindeer Chukchee a tribute of half a ruble from a boy under sixteen years, but this attempt was not successful. So the tribute which at first was settled as 316 rubles was lowered to 247 rubles. At the same time Maydell tried to take a census of the Reindeer Chukchee. The figures of his census are 476 men and 369 women; total 845. He is quite well aware, however, of the deficiencies of this census. He does not even give these figures in his book. I borrowed them from the documents of the Archives of Kolyma.} but, as I have said, it is not true. The tribute is paid by a family; and not all the families pay, either. Those that are unfriendly to the Russians do not pay anything. The Tungus, the Yakut, the Kamchadal, pay per capita, and also for all those that are dead. Since many branches of these tribes have greatly diminished in number, the tribute becomes very heavy, sometimes quite abnormal. The Russianized Yukaghir and Yakut of the Lower Kolyma, until very recently, had to pay eleven rubles for each male. No such thing is possible among the Chukchee. The greater the distance from Russian villages, the smaller the number of families who are willing to pay tribute. The largest portion of the tribute allotted to each clan is paid by the so-called "chief." It is not so very difficult for a rich Chukchee to pay thirty or fifty rubles. He takes a couple of bear-skins and some good fox-skins to the trader, and receives for them the money to pay his tribute.
   Among the Maritime Chukchee and the Asiatic Eskimo, groups consisting of family units are still smaller than among the Reindeer people. The real units of social life among the Maritime people are the family and the village. Many of the villages are of course inhabited by relatives, especially among the Eskimo, who, as mentioned before, {Compare p. 494.} are less inclined than the Chukchee to wander from village to village. Many other villages, Chukchee and Eskimo, consist, however, of elements of distinct provenience. For instance, the village of Če'čin consists of Eskimo, of Maritime Chukchee, and of a large admixture of Reindeer Chukchee who have lost their herds and have settled on the shore. Some of the villages have front houses, and others have none. On the whole, the village is a territorial unit. Neither has it any organization, beyond the fact that the inhabitants are neighbors and are friendly among themselves. Related families appear as units in the organization of the boat-crew. {See Chapter XXI.}
   Family. -- The Chukchee family usually consists of a husband, with one or several wives and their children. Generally the parents of the man live near by in a lodging of their own; and with them may live younger sons and daughters, who are not yet married, or, if married, have no children. Their house is dependent on the larger one, and is considered as belonging to the "houseful."
   Position of Old People. -- Old men usually enjoy great consideration. Especially is this the case among the reindeer-breeding part of the tribe, perhaps because the herd is the property of the father as long as he lives. It seems that among all nomadic tribes there is a tendency to develop strong family and family-group ties, and that with this phenomenon is connected the high position of the old men of the family. Although I cannot make the general assertion that the organization of family and family-group is more highly developed among the Reindeer Chukchee than among the Maritime tribe, it seems that in special cases this is really the case. Reindeer-raising is probably not old enough among the Chukchee to have brought about a marked difference between the two branches of the people. In many camps in various parts of the territory of the Chukchee I have met very old men, perhaps of seventy or even eighty years; at least, their hair was altogether white, which change seems to occur among the Chukchee later than among the white race. Some of these old men were almost in their dotage; still they had retained possession of the herd and the general direction of life in their camps. For instance, in a camp on the Oloi River, a man named Kau'no, who had great-grand-nephews ten years old, owned two large herds, and decided himself the most important question in the seasonal migration of the Chukchee, that of choosing the place of abode for the summer-time. Though enfeebled by age, he still made the April trip to the Wolverene River every spring for barter with the maritime traders from the Arctic villages, who come there at that time, bringing maritime products and American wares. Kau'no's own housemates told me that the old man had grown childish and often purchased things of little use in their life. Instead of sugar he took bottled molasses, because it was red, and red pleased his eye; he bought table-knives instead of hunting-knives, because they are brighter, etc. This was told, however, with broad grins, and without any visible signs of protest. "Foolish one!" (Yurgumte'q) they added quite good-humoredly. "What is to be done? He is an old man!" (Qailo'qim, mi'ñkri, inpina'čhin). And I am quite sure that Kau'no kept the direction of his house till his natural end. Another old man of sixty on the Dry Anui had a dislocation of the hip-joint, which was altogether out of service in walking. He could only crawl about with the aid of two crutches. Therefore his name was Atka'-Paña'nto ("Lame Paña'nto"). His lameness dated from a bad fall in a wrestling-match in which he took part. He was then married and the owner of a herd. He continued to be the master of his herd and the head of his family, and had several children, who grew up and took care of the herd. Every year he would go to the Anui fair for barter, carrying along peltries and reindeer-skins. He was very fond of strong liquor, bought it every time, and drank most of it himself, giving to each of the other members of his family only a few drops.
   At fairs and gatherings for trade, whenever I visited a camp for the first time, those who came to meet me would say, "Let us take you to the oldest man. Talk first to him." Baron von Maydell mentions that when he travelled in the country near the Upper Anadyr, a very old man from a remote camp, who came to meet him, was carried for a long distance on the shoulders of his young relatives. {See Maydell, I, p. 520.} This happened in summer, when sledges cannot be used. This is nothing unusual among the Chukchee, though usually the old man walks as long as he can; then he is carried for a while. After that, a short rest is taken, and he walks again. Even among the Maritime Chukchee, where the old men enjoy less consideration, those that cannot walk are carried on the shoulders of their young relatives. Thus, at Mariinsky Post I saw an old man with crutches, a certain Yir'mE, who had his feet badly frozen in an accident during the winter seal-hunting. This happened some fifteen years ago. Now Yir'mE is old, and unable to move about much, even with the aid of crutches. Whenever he has to be moved, his own son-in-law carries him on his shoulders.
   I mentioned just now that among the Maritime Chukchee consideration for old men is not so marked as among the reindeer-breeders. The life of the maritime people is harder. Each morsel of food has to be obtained by great exertion, by danger and hardship: therefore an old man, unable to get his store of food himself, becomes a charge on other people. There is no herd or other property worthy of much attention. The experience of an old hunter does not count for much when he remains at home, and in times of privation he is one too many to feed; therefore the old men whom I met among the Maritime Chukchee looked dull and sad, nor were they as numerous as among the Reindeer Chukchee. This was due perhaps to the hardships of maritime life, the less active hunters being often unable to meet danger, and thus losing their lives. The killing of old people, of which I shall speak later on, probably originated among the Maritime Chukchee. {I know of fewer cases of such killing among the Maritime Chukchee, as compared to those among the Reindeer branch of the tribe; but this is probably due only to my shorter acquaintance with the Maritime people.}
   It seems that a similar difference, though less apparent, exists between the Reindeer and the Maritime Koryak. Mr. Jochelson, in speaking of the treatment of old people by the Koryak, remarks that among the Reindeer Koryak the new form of household economy has developed the principle of personal property more sharply. {Compare Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 759.} In an oral communication he mentioned that in reality among the Reindeer Koryak the old men have more authority than among the Maritime Koryak, because of their ownership of reindeer-herds, which remains in their hands.
   In recent times, property of value obtained in trade with American whalers appeared even among the Maritime Chukchee. Almost every large village has several traders, who go inland to the reindeer camps and barter white men's ware for skins and reindeer-meat. Some of them even have storehouses of their own; others are poorer, and sometimes their capital is small indeed. The owners of this property, though ever so old, continue to hold it, and their position in life does not become lower with increasing age.
   Position of Women. -- The position of women, on the whole, is inferior to that of the men. "Since you are a woman, be silent" (Ñe'us.qät tu'ri, äqu'like) -- these words are repeated every time that a woman severely reproved dares to say a word back in her own defence.
   In one tale a girl who came to a ke'le proposes herself as a wife for him in the following words: "I want to be your companion and your slave. My mother said to me, 'That ke'lE there has no slave. We will raise you as quickly as possible. Go to him and serve him.'" {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 195.}
   Among the Reindeer Chukchee, women work much harder than men, especially the younger ones. The man's part of the work is the herding, catching, and slaughtering of animals, the hunt, carrying of heavy logs and of the stones necessary to hold the tent firmly in place; also work on wood with axe, hatchet, and knife, etc. The harnessing of the reindeer is done by both sexes, also carrying fuel from the bush, and chopping wood and ice. The loading and unloading of sledges is performed for the most part by women. The care of the house, which in the nomadic life of an arctic climate requires almost uninterrupted hard toil, falls wholly to the share of the women, also skinning and butchering, gathering roots, preparing food, dressing skins, making garments, and much more, not to speak of the duties of the mother. Moreover, man almost never shares in the woman's part of the work; he does not even know how it is performed. Often, when wandering with a Chukchee camp, I had occasion to go to the newly chosen spot with the male members of the family. We drove on light sledges, and therefore arrived long before the women, who crept along slowly behind with the pack-sledges. Sometimes the difference of time was about two hours or two and a half; but the men would only unharness their reindeer; then they would loiter idly about waiting for the women, or begin some kind of men's work. Once in my presence a man took a snow-scraper and began to scrape the place for the tent, but after a couple of minutes he threw away the scraper. "Ugh!" he said, "this is woman's work." When I was trying to learn the Chukchee language, and took care to collect new words from every one, I found, to my great amazement, that young men did not know the names of some parts of the house-frame, house utensils, preparations for dressing skins, etc. "Ugh!" they would say, "I don't know. That is the women's business."
   In the every-day life, the man, when at home, is idle, or occupies his time with the inspection of sledges, repairing their broken parts, etc. The women take care of everything in the tent and in the sleeping-room. After the reindeer is slaughtered, the woman has to skin it and butcher it; then she must carry everything to its proper place. She prepares the food, and presents it to her husband. She cuts off the best, and takes what is left, gnaws the bones, gathers all crumbs and scraps. Such delicacies as brains, marrow, etc., are eaten almost exclusively by men. Women are satisfied with licking their fingers when cutting the dainties into small pieces for the use of the men. "Being women, eat crumbs," is a saying of the Chukchee. Women eat only after the men have finished. {The same is the case among the Koryak (cf. Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 745).} Only an elderly woman, the mother of a family, having grown-up daughters or some other women under her rule, goes into the inner room with the men and eats with them. As a rule, the women, though they stay more at home than the men, still spend less time under shelter of the sleeping-room. A young woman is the first to leave it early in the morning, and the last to enter it late in the evening; and when a guest comes to pass a night, and the room proves to be too small, the woman has to go out and perhaps pass the night in the outer tent, unless she is needed by the males for special reasons. On the other side the woman also performs much of the man's work. Young women and girls help the men in herding in winter and even in summer.
   When a reindeer herdsman comes home after twenty-four hours spent in running around the restive animals, he is given a change of dry clothes, takes food, and goes to sleep. A woman, though returning with him from the herd, has to prepare the food, and then take part in the household cares. When I was passing a summer among the Chukchee on the Oloi River, I staid for a couple of months in the camp of Ei'heli, whose name has been mentioned before. His elder daughter-in-law would come from the herd after a two days' absence. In summer the Chukchee herdsmen, while with the reindeer, have little time to sleep. They take their sleep when coming home. Still the young woman was not allowed to go to sleep. Ei'heli would sit down in the inner room and order her to prepare tea and food. The woman was wearied. She looked like one in a trance. She would mechanically take the teapot, but, instead of pouring the tea into the cup, she would pour it right on the eating-table. In another camp I saw another woman of nineteen, who was the second wife of the master of the front house, fall down suddenly in the middle of her work as if struck by a bullet. She was struck, not by a bullet, but by sleep.
   Ei'heli, however, was considered an old man given to too much quarrelling with his female house-mates, and sometimes was for this reason laughed at by the people in the neighborhood. As mentioned before, he was the highest chief of the Chukchee; {Compare p. 73.} and the people of the neighborhood said behind his back, that, from too much intercourse with the inhabitants of Russian log-cabins, he got a liking for indoor living; and since he had nothing else to do, he quarrelled with the women. The husband of the other young woman mentioned before was also considered harsh.
   Aiñanwa't, on the contrary, left the house of his son in order to avoid quarrelling with the women. He told me the following: "I should like to live with my son, but he has too many women. They make me feel bad, they talk too much: therefore I have left them, fearing lest I grow angry. In my mind I rejected them all."
   Aiñanwa't, after losing his reindeer-luck in the bad year of 1884, got weary of his diminishing herd and dilapidated household, and, after his second wife had also died, he gave up the remainder of his property to his oldest son, and became himself a wandering hunter of wild reindeer. He felt restless, and probably would not stay at home even if the women had not been given to "too much talking."
   Some cases of protest of women against intolerable ill-treatment by the fathers-in-law are known to me. For instance, on the Wolverene River I met an old man, Omrêlqo't by name, who was a rich reindeer-owner. He was hospitable even to strangers, but stingy with his own house-mates. Since he was quite irascible, this led to quarrels. One summer all the people in the neighborhood were short of tobacco, and he alone had a few pounds. He distributed the greater part of it among his neighbors, and left almost nothing for his own house-mates. Being himself a great smoker, he stopped the supply of tobacco of the women of his household. Now, all the people of Arctic Siberia would rather go hungry than be without a smoke. "Tobacco is shameless," is a saying of the Russian Creoles: "it makes the poorest people bold in their demands even upon the chief officer." Whoever knows the abject fear in which Russian Creoles hold officers even of inferior rank, will appreciate the significance of this saying.
   I mentioned before a story of two brothers, one of whom, at the time of a tobacco famine, killed the other because he refused to share with him his tobacco-supply. {Compare p. 59.} This story is very popular among various tribes of northeastern Siberia.
   In dealing with his neighbors, Omrêlqo't, to whom I have referred before, faithfully followed the general rule which requires, in case of need, that the last pipeful be divided or smoked by turns; but the women of his own household were not treated so liberally. A quarrel ensued; and one of his daughters-in-law, who was also hot-tempered, took up a lance and inflicted on the old man three wounds, -- one on the shoulder, and two others in the back. The old man drew his belt-knife and seriously wounded his assailant. The end of the quarrel was, that the woman left the camp of her husband and father-in-law, and went back to her own people. But Omrêlqo't was called ever after, to his great ire and horror, "that one pricked by a woman." I have told this story in some detail because it is very characteristic of Chukchee family life.
   Another, more tragical case happened at the Anui fair in 1895, where one Chukchee was killed by Cossacks in a squabble. The Chukchee surrounded the wooden fortress and threatened to take it by assault. After some parleying, they grew less threatening, and asked for the body of the one killed, intending to come for the blood-money on the following morning. The gate was firmly shut from the inside; and it was necessary to take the body to the gate, then to open it, and, after the body had been delivered, to shut it again. None of the people in the fortress, including all the Cossacks and police officials of the Kolyma district, were willing to take part in that somewhat risky enterprise. Finally it was performed by myself and two other political exiles who happened to be present at the fair. We took it upon ourselves to open the gate and to shut it again. We did not want to carry the body; and after some hesitation, it was carried out by the Cossack manservant of the chief official. It was lying on a dog-sledge, and the man was pulling the sledge by the vertical bow. I acted as interpreter and mediator. My companions, being both very strong, heavy-set men, drew the bolts back, and opened the gate just wide enough for the sledge to pass through. A large number of Chukchee were assembled in front of the gate. They were, clamoring for admission and for the body of their friend. When the gate was opened, the wife of the one killed clutched the Cossack and wanted to drag him out; but he succeeded in jumping back, leaving a piece of his skin coat in her hands. The gate-keepers pushed her out with the sledge and the body, hastily shut the gate, and locked it. The step-father, who was the third husband of the mother of the one killed, was also there. When still very young, the mother had lost her first husband. Later on, she was sent away with her child by her second husband, but was married by the third husband, with whom she continued to live, and who was at the time an old man. He was standing in front of the gate, together with his daughter-in-law, but he made no attempt to assist the angry woman in her endeavors. She yelled, "You old good-for-nothing! When quarrelling with women in your house, you can talk! Why don't you fight now, when your son is trampled down by the Russians?"
   Among the Maritime people, the women take no share in hunting; and the housework is also less burdensome, owing to the sedentary mode of life of the people. Therefore they are not so hard-worked as the women of the nomadic Chukchee.
   According to the data in the census of 1897, as collected by N. L. Gondatti and myself, and published by S. Patkanov, {S. Patkanov, Essai d'une statistique et d'une geographie des peuples palseasiatiques de la Slberie d'apres les donnees du recensement de 1897 (St. Petersburg, 1903), p. 27.} the whole number of women, as compared to that of men, forms, among the Maritime Chukchee 108 per cent, among the Reindeer Chukchee 101 per cent; total for the whole tribe, 102 per cent. The difference between the Maritime and Reindeer Chukchee corresponds to the difference in male occupations in both branches of the tribe; that is to say, the Maritime hunters incur far more danger and risk of life than the reindeer-breeders. The census of Maydell of 1870 is not taken into account, being too incomplete.
   The wife is often harshly treated by her husband. I have mentioned the case of a husband killing his wife with a blow of a fire-brand. Blows, though less severe, are not infrequently dealt out to women; but it also happens that a wife ill-treats her husband. I recall one man of small stature, with but little physical strength, but very irascible. Quarrels between him and his wife were not rare. When it would come to blows, his wife would throw him, and keep him down, asking, "Have you enough? Will you cease?" until he would say, "Enough, I will cease." His neighbors told me this story with much laughter, but their censure was not very harsh.
   Another man, Girgo'l by name, a well-to-do reindeer-breeder, who used to maltreat his wife, was finally killed by her with a rifle. This happened in midsummer, when the family was alone with their herd on the summer pasture-ground. The family consisted of Girgo'l, his wife, and three grown-up unmarried daughters. Just what happened has never been known; but one day the youngest daughter came to the nearest camp, and said that Girgo'l suddenly felt very ill and requested to be killed, which was done by his wife. When the people went to attend the funeral, the women who assisted in dressing the body in his funeral clothes saw with surprise that the wound was on the back of the neck, although in cases of voluntary death the wound is always inflicted on the front part of the body. The daughters of the woman, however, confirmed the story that their father was killed by his own request. He had no near relatives in the country, and the murder was allowed to go without any attempt at blood-vengeance. The woman took the herd and remained its possessor. In the course of time she .took another husband, who lived on her herd, and was therefore wholly dependent on her.
   The position of old women, however, is much inferior to that of old men. Among the Reindeer Chukchee a widow having children may remain the owner of the herd, and keep that position till her children are grown up. Among the Maritime Chukchee an old widow lives with one of her sons; and her voice is of no great influence, even among the occupants of the inner sleeping-room, unless she happens to be a shaman or a "knowing one." {Compare p. 472.}
   The inferior position of the woman does not exclude tender love between husband and wife. Especially do marriages contracted among children develop into a very strong tie between the married couples. When I travelled on the Wolverene River, an epidemic of influenza appeared among the Chukchee. About twenty persons died within a few days. A man, Moro'n by name, lost his wife, with whom he had lived for fifteen years, from the time when he was ten years old. On the second day after her death he took his own life by stabbing himself with a knife. "I want to follow her," he said before he died. Another case illustrating the strong attachment between husband and wife is that of an old man living in the Dry Anui district, who had lived with his wife for half a century. Suddenly he declared that he wanted to take a certain girl of the vicinity for his second wife. His old wife threatened to return to her own relatives if he should take the girl. The old couple had no children living who might have prevented the dissolution of that marriage. The old man hesitated for some time; but .his desire to have children -- if not begotten by himself, then at least the issue of the customary group-marriage -- prevailed, and he took the young woman. His first wife kept her word and left the camp, going to her brother, who lived at a distance of a hundred miles. For a few months- the old man lived with his young wife; then he repined. He felt too proud, however, to go and see his old mate. Rather than do that, he requested that he be killed, which was done by strangulation with a rope. {For similar cases among the Koryak, cf. Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 745.} Thus it will be seen that the married life of the Chukchee is not exempt from strong feelings and romantic episodes.
   Position of Children. -- I mentioned before that small children are an object of great care and tenderness on the part of their parents. The endearing term for children frequently used in common parlance is "little eggs" (ligliqqäiti). The children are fed with the best morsels, and fondled and caressed by all grown-up people. The tender love of parents for their children has found expression in one episode which is repeated in many tales. A young boy dies a sudden death. His parents, in great sorrow, remain in the sleeping-room. The dead body is lying before them upon the ground on a reindeer-skin. They weep day and night. Their cheeks are furrowed with tears to the very bones. Thus they stay for one year, then for another, then for a third year.
   The childhood of Chukchee children is quite happy. They grow up free and fearless in the freedom of camp life. Small boys are given knives just as soon as they can grasp the handles, and from that time on they learn gradually the use of this all-important implement. I have seen a small boy try to carve wood with a knife hardly shorter than the boy himself. One time a Cossack who accompanied me teased a boy about five years of age. The little man took offence, took up a hatchet that was lying on the ground, and flung it at the head of the man. His aim was accurate enough, though the hatchet did not reach the amazed Cossack, who began to howl and stamp his feet, intending to frighten the little warrior. Nothing daunted, the boy caught up a big knife and turned upon his enemy.
   The heroic tales of the Chukchee also make mention of young boys taking part in combats and coming to the assistance of their parents. For instance, in a tale about Ele'ndi and his sons, a little boy, the grandson of the hero, plays all the time at shooting with a bow, not even taking time - to sleep. One day his father says jestingly, "Here is a blade of grass. Try and hit its stem." He made for the boy a small arrow of a piece of kettle iron. The boy shot and cut the blade in two. In the morning they continued their journey and met a Ta'n.fñin. "Oh!" says the father, "you are but a child." -- "What of it?" says the boy. "And what will your mother say? Well, let us go near. Then you sit down at a safe distance. I will fight against that man with my lance. However, I may get tired. Then I shall return, and you shall string your little bow. I shall look at you, thus, and cross the road near to you. Then you shall shoot at his forehead. Try at least to cut the skin on his forehead." The father began the fight with the Ta'n.fñin, became tired, and retreated towards the place were his child was sitting. Then the boy strung his bow and shot and cut the skin on the forehead of the Ta'n.fñin. "Oh! this is how you take away our herds. You are strong through the aid of a boy. We do not act thus. Your strength lies in your union with boys." -- "Ah!" says the father, "I have created a strong man for times to come,. one who will take the property of all those living in the country around us. I must be very good indeed."
   After several years, in a quarrel with his father about the distribution of tobacco, the son says, "If I had not then cut that broad forehead, we could not have smoked at this time." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 354.}
   As in other hero-tales of the Chukchee, the details are given in a manner that is very true to life. Other instances of the same kind might be added.
   The life of children among the Maritime Chukchee is less pleasant. Maritime villages are filthy in comparison with the ever-changing camp of the Reindeer people. The interior of the house, where the children spend a considerable part of their time, is black from smoke, and full of heavy odors. Food, too, is less abundant, and the supply less certain. On the other hand, the years of leisure and play are much longer here than among the reindeer-breeders. The reindeer-breeding Chukchee send boys of ten, and girls hardly older than that, to help in tending the herd. I remember having met one summer-time two such young reindeer-breeders, a boy and a girl. They were from ten to twelve years old. They were walking through the bushes quite alone, staff in hand, and wallet on back. They had to walk some ten miles before they could reach their herd. It was strange to see these young children wandering in the bush without any protection and shelter. While with the herd, the children have their share of all the troubles and care of guarding the restive animals. Of course they sleep more than the adult herdsmen, and do not run about so much; still their life is hard enough. When three or four years older, the young people, especially the boys, have to take up the full responsibilities of the herdsman. In winter-time, when the herd is quiet, the father of the family may not visit it for a week or more, leaving it to the care of his young sons. The father uses this time for attending gatherings, for visits to other camps, gossip, and good eating, especially when there are no snow-storms. The late autumn is therefore considered as the season of happiness and rest, especially as about that time the reindeer are fattest.
   Even in the summer, young boys remain alone with the herd for several days, using their utmost efforts, notwithstanding their insufficient strength, to keep the animals together. Chukchee tales are full of incidents relating the adventures of young herdsmen. For instance, it is told that during the wars with the Ta'n.ñit, when the enemy was overpowered, the warriors killed, and the herds captured, half-grown herdsmen were spared. They had to drive the herd to the country of the victors, and remained there taking care of it. In other tales, when a warrior is killed, his half-grown sons continue to keep watch over the herd. "When my father died," one of the young Chukchee told me, "I was no higher than the back of a reindeer. I was afraid of the large-antlered bucks. Still I succeeded in preserving my herd, and even in increasing its size."
   It is in accord with these conditions that the bearing of the children before their father is very respectful. When the young herdsmen come home, they give their father a detailed account of the more important animals in the herd, about the pasture, the drinking-place, mosquitoes and reindeer-flies. The father puts one question after another, and the son has to give short and clear answers without talking too much. He repeats often words like "Yes, yes! surely!" and other interjections, showing his respect for the words of his parents. He even feels it improper to sit down in the presence of his father, especially while other people are present. These relations continue while the son is not yet full grown. As soon as the young man has reached the age of about twenty-five, and his mustache begins to grow, or when he has a wife and a couple of children, he feels greater self-assurance and independence, though he may continue to watch his father's herd. He begins to bear himself towards his father, though with deference, without such extreme submission as in former years.
   Among the Maritime Chukchee, boys take up their full duties considerably later than among the Reindeer people. When taken along in the boat on a hunting-expedition, they would be rather an impediment than a help. The young man does not take part in serious hunting before he is sixteen or seventeen years old. Before that time, he may be given a rifle to shoot at seals from the shore, or he may be expected to lend a hand in setting seal-nets on the nearest ice-floe which is firmly attached to the shore. Sea-hunting is largely in the hands of strong young hunters. The old men who can no longer compete with the younger, or who may even remain at home, cannot expect such marked deference on the part of the younger people as is custom mary among the reindeer-breeders;
   Quarrels between father and sons occur every now and then. In this case the family ties may be broken by, either party; Thus, on the Dry Anui River, one of my acquaintances; Kelhi'm by name, expelled from his camp his son KiLe'p, a young man of twenty, accusing him of laziness, bad temper, and neglect of his duties as a herdsman. The young man, according to the words of his father, wanted to attend friendly gatherings, to play cards, and to make merry. The father declared that he himself was entitled to these privileges, insisting that it was the duty of young men to take care of the reindeer-herd. KiLe'p left his father's camp, and wandered around, trying to find a place in some family as an adopted son-in-law; but the work required in such positions seemed to be much harder than that required in his father's house, and at last he returned home. His father was short of herdsmen, and the young man was re-admitted without much difficulty. After a few weeks, however, misunderstandings began anew. We visited the camp of Kelhi'm about that time. One night the young man came home from the herd, ripped up one of our leather bags, and stole half of its contents, chiefly hard-tack and sugar. The next morning, when my companion discovered the theft and commented upon the bad manners of the camp, the young man very quietly observed, "Don't talk so much. I have taken your sugar and bread." -- "Why did you do so?" I questioned him. "Because I wanted to eat it," was the unhesitating answer. The father felt ashamed, and offered us two reindeer-tongues and a bundle of skins of reindeer-leg as a "redemption price" (ki'tkau, literally, "hard return"). This proves that the father's complaints against his son were not without reason.
   In another camp of the same locality the following happened a few years ago. A man, Cei'pu by name, expelled his eldest son, Nuwa't, who was a very unsatisfactory herdsman, and made his younger son the principal heir (e'un-mi'lhilin {See p. 351.}). The disowned youth wandered from camp to camp, and at last came to a rich reindeer-breeder, Yo'nli. He married Yo'nk's daughter, and lived at his house as an adopted son-in-law. The following spring, when moving to the summer pastures, the father-in-law, who was much displeased with his work, wanted to drive him away. The young wife was with child, but among the Chukchee this forms no obstacle to the rupture of a marriage. The quarrel happened while they were travelling. The young man said nothing; but after a while he sat down on his wife's sledge, embraced her from behind, drew his knife, and cut open her abdomen. Then he jumped from the sledge and cut his own throat.
   In both these cases the young men disowned by their families were, as the Chukchee say, "bad." If the fault lies with the father, a youth who is badly treated may leave of his own accord, and will seek his luck elsewhere. In poor families such cases are very frequent. Young men leave their parents' hornes displeased with the poverty and bad luck of the domestic hearth, and travel for many hundred miles to seek positions with well-to-do reindeer-owners. Even a girl may leave her father's house, if the family want to force a marriage entirely against her inclinations. Of course, such incidents are rare. Still I know of two cases of flight which were carried out with success. Both took place in summer, when pursuit over long distances is very difficult. In one case, the girl returned to her former husband, from whom she had been taken by her family, in accordance with Chukchee custom. In the other case, the girl married into a new family, and her father, after some quarrelling, left her with her husband.
   Among the Maritime Chukchee, whoever wants to leave his family may go to another house and become an adopted son-in-law, or he may go away to the Reindeer people and get a position with the owner of a large herd.
   Violent quarrels between father and sons may lead even to murder. I mentioned {Compare p. 45.} a case of parricide which happened near Cape Erri in the family of a rich reindeer-owner, and in which the wife, the son, and the nephew of the one killed took part. Old Cossack reports mention similar cases. Thus the Anadyr Cossack Boris Kusnetzky, who was captured by the Chukchee in 1754, mentions in his report of 1763 to Lieut. Col. Plenisner, chief officer of Okhotsk, that while in captivity he witnessed a son stab his father with a knife and a brother stab his brother out of mere spite. {Northly Archive (monthly, Russian), 1825, Part 18, p. 187.}
   Adoption. -- A married couple who have no children may adopt some little child, most frequently a boy, the son of some related family, like that of a brother or a cousin; but the child may also belong to an unrelated friend or simply to a "neighbor in the camp." Such a child becomes in the house of the adopting parents their "principal heir" (e'un-mi'lhilin). When the neighbor is poor and has many children, and the foster father is rich in reindeer, the child is given away with much pleasure. The foster father, moreover, gives to the real father a "joyful present," consisting of a couple of live reindeer, mostly those suitable for driving. The ceremonial of adoption is similar to that of marriage. A reindeer is slaughtered as a sacrifice to the Morning Dawn; and the adopted child, together with his foster parents, is anointed with blood. The marks of the new family are used in anointing, which symbolizes that the child joins the new hearth, with its special charms and "luck in life." {Kinta'-va'irgin, literally, "Luck-giving Being" (cf. p. 314).} Notwithstanding this, with a boy of foreign descent, the ties of adoption are not very strong. Even after a stay of several years in the new family, he may be sent or taken away. One of my Chukchee acquaintances from the western Kolyma tundra, Aiña'irgin by name, being childless, adopted a small boy of his camp neighbor Ai'o. The boy remained with him three years. Then Ai'o died. His wife resolved to leave the western tundra and cross the Kolyma River. She had some kinsmen on the eastern shore with whom she wanted to live. Leaving the camp of her master, she took her child back and carried him along with her. Aiña'irgin, at the time of adopting the boy, had given to Ai'o a "joyful present" of two well-broken driving-reindeer. Now the woman gave them back. Her chief reason for taking her child back was that Aiña'irgin had meanwhile lost and squandered away a large part of his herd, and still continued to go downward, so that the prospects of life for the adopted child were by no means bright.
   When a child has been taken from a brother or a cousin for adoption, the new tie soon becomes very strong, and almost equals the natural tie between parents and children. Thus, of the people I met, one Qora'wge adopted the little son of his younger brother Aqa'wgi, and had him as his own child; another man, Einewgi by name, adopted Aqaca'ut, the son of his second-cousin; etc. Old people who have lost their children, however, do not like to adopt new children, but prefer to remain alone in their sorrow.
   On the other hand, the ties between the adopting parent and an adopted child of quite foreign origin may sometimes become very strong indeed. The remarkable tale about Ta'lo, the adopted child of a Ta'n.ñin (Ta'lo, Ta'n.ñin rimaiña'wgo), describes how the Ta'n-ñit were pursuing fugitive Chukchee. From one sledge a boy had fallen, -- a very small boy, who still wore a diaper. He fell into the snow, and lay there weeping. The last of the pursuers were two brothers. One had children at home; the other had no boys, only one single daughter. When they reached that place, the wail of the child was heard by them. "Wait a little," said the childless one, "let me go and see what voice is wailing in the snow." He found the boy. "Oh, oh, a boy! I had better return home: go on by yourself." He took the boy to his camp. There he brought him up as his own son. Ta'lo grew up very quickly. Every day he became larger and stronger. Then the adopting father said to him, "Oh, my son! I am old and weak. Now try your hand with the herd. Here is a girl, a stranger girl, whom I have brought up for you. Take her to wife, and both of you be the masters of the camp." Ta'lo left the sleeping-room and went to the herd. From that time on he did not come home. All the time, from morning till evening, he ran about without interruption, exercising with his lance, shooting with his bow, carrying weights. He became as light and nimble as a two-year-old reindeer-buck, the offspring of a wild male. At last he was able to jump up into the air like a bird. Thus lived Ta'lo. One time his supposed cousins said among themselves, "Let us go and have a look at .the adopted offspring of the hostile tribe." They came to Ta'lo's herd, and looked stealthily from behind the bushes. He was still exercising, fencing with his spear as if it were a shred of wet reindeer-skin, springing across the lake and back again, jumping up into the air like a very bird. Then they said, "It is terrible! This one must be exterminated. This stranger will want to kill all our people." Unseen by him, they came to the old man, and said to him, "After two days we shall come in a large company and slay this Chukchee offspring." They went away to assemble the people. The time was early in the fall, just after the fall slaughterings. Taio came home. The father said, "Put on some dry clothes." -- "I don't want them," said Ta'lo. "Do you hear me, put on some dry clothes. Then I will tell you something." Ta'lo entered the inner room, took off his working-clothes, and put on a dry fur shirt. He crouches in the tent, before the entrance of the inner room, covering his naked knees, tightly pressed together, with his shirt. {A herdsman come home for rest often takes such a posture after exchanging his wet clothes for dry ones.} The father stands on the opposite side of the hearth. "Listen!" says the father. "You are not my own boy: you were born of a 'white-sea woman,' {Chukchee woman (cf. p. 12).} and found on the road in a heap of snow." Ta'lo hung his head, sorrowful. "But this your wife is not a stranger: she is my real daughter. I gave her to you as a wife, and all my property I also gave to you. But now the anger of my people is coming upon you. They want to kill you. The hands of the angry ones are very nimble. Perhaps they will not hit the heart, will not kill you all at once. Better let me do it." Ta'lo answered nothing, only hung his head still lower. The old man took his bow, put two sharp arrows on the string, bent one knee, and shot; but at the very moment when the string vibrated, Taio deployed like an elastic trap let off by a trigger, jumped up, and touched with his head the roof of the tent; then he was back in his former place, and felt behind him with his hand the wall of the inner room. Two arrows had made in the earth wall two deep holes on a level with his breast. They entered quite deep into the earth. Only their points were visible. Ta'lo crouched as before, covering his knees with his shirt. The father too crouched on the other side of the hearth, imitating the son. "Oh, oh! you have grown up a very nimble man, to avoid an arrow so very near to you. Now cease living here among an alien tribe. Go to your own people. The trail from here leads to midnight. Far ahead stands a high rock. In the short winter days, when the sun is not visible on the earth, its top is still red with the sunlight. Beyond that rock, on the right-hand side, stand the tents of your people." He told his daughter to sew six pair of boots of thick chamois, six pair of seal-skin, and six of reindeer-leg skin. For two nights and one day the woman did not sleep, sewing these boots. She also wept these two nights and one day, till from blindness she began to prick her fingers with her needle. On the third morning Taio left. He did not take along either his bow or his spear, only a small girdle-knife of whalebone.
   On the way ten Ta'n.ñin warriors fell upon him; but he slew them all, and took for himself their reindeer and one full set of arms, a suit of armor, a spear, a bow, and a quiver. When he came to the rock and turned to the right, he saw a young Chukchee man driving a reindeer-team. This one, seeing upon the new-comer the weapons and dress of an alien tribe, turned and fled. Ta'lo's reindeer were very swift. Very soon he passed the Chukchee driver, and, wishing to talk with him, barred his way. The other one turned and fled in another direction. Ta'lo again overtook him and caught hold of the bridle of the right reindeer with his hand. The Chukchee threw down the reins. "If I became like a wild reindeer for you, (then slay me!)" {This formula expresses the request for voluntary death (compare the latter part of this chapter).} -- "No, I do not want to slay you. But, tell me, who are you?" -- "I am Omrita'hin's son. We were three brothers, but the middle one was taken by the Ta'n-ñit when very young." -- "Then I am your brother," said Ta'lo. "I was brought up by Ta'n.ñit. My armor is alien, but the body under the armor was borne by a white sea-woman!" Then they greeted each other, and grew to have no fear of each other. "Where are your houses?" asked Ta'lo. "Here, near by, hidden behind the hill." -- "How many tents?" -- "Three tents,-- my brother's and mine, then that of an old 'neighbor in the camp."' -- "Well, let us go there!" -- "But I must go first. If you go before me, they will kill you." -- "No, let me go first; otherwise they will say that an enemy is pursuing you." -- "No, let me go! Whoever brings good news must go on ahead." So they go together, one sledge behind the other. They drive very fast; and the reindeer of one sledge are all the time close upon the reindeer of the other. When they began to get near the camp, the people of the camp exclaimed, "A Ta'n.ñin is pursuing our man!" Men with bows appeared, and shot a quantity of arrows at Ta'lo. Even the snow-dust flew upward as in a tempest. When the snow-dust settled down again, they saw Ta'lo standing a little apart, quite safe, and dusting the snow from his clothes. Then the brother told them. Ta'lo lived with his kinsmen, but the next year he arranged a daring invasion into the Ta'n.ñin land. He slew a great many people, took fifteen herds and eighty young slaves. One night he came to his father-in-law. "I want to tell you something," says the old man. "You take your wife and carry her to your land. As for us, better kill us with a lance. We are too old to leave our native country and adopt the ways of an alien tribe." He slew the old people and left them on that very place, with the tent and all their belongings.
   Another part of this interesting tale, also very characteristic, will be given in one of the next chapters.
   In a tale of Yäku'nnin, which describes the struggle of the Chukchee against the Russian Cossacks, Yäku'nnin's adopted son also figures, who fights faithfully by his father's side, and is then severely wounded or killed. Then Yäku'nnin is also taken prisoner, put to torture, and killed. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 390.}
   Voluntary Death. -- Voluntary death is still of frequent occurrence among the Chukchee. It is inflicted by a friend or relative, upon the expressed wish of the person who desires to die. Though I had no occasion to witness a case of voluntary death, I know of about twenty cases which happened among the Chukchee during the time of my travels. One summer, while I was at Mariinsky Post, a large skin boat from the Telqä'p tundra arrived for trading-purposes. One of the new-comers, after a visit to the Russian barracks, felt a sudden pain in his stomach. During the night the pain became acute, the sufferer asked to be killed, and his fellow-travellers complied with his request.
   From what has been related, it will be seen that the voluntary death of old men is not prompted by any lack of good feeling towards the old men, but rather by the hard conditions of their life, which make existence almost unendurable for any one unable to take full care of himself. Accordingly, not only old people, but also those afflicted by some illness, often prefer death to continued suffering; and their number is even greater than that of old people who die a voluntary death.
   The position of an infirm man among the Chukchee is very hard indeed, be he young or old. On the western Kolyma tundra I met a man less than thirty years of age, A'niqai by name, who three years before was stricken with palsy, and, though partly recovered, had become feeble-minded. I saw him in February. It was cold and windy. The Chukchee of the western Kolyma tundra have no winter houses, and wander about throughout the year with their usual travelling-tent and sleeping-room. Thus did also the family of A'niqai. We visited them at a newly chosen camping-place. The women had just begun to unload the pack-sledges. The tent could be pitched only late in the evening. A'niqai lay on the snow, looking very much like a heap of old clothes. His wife put a clothing-bag under his head; but, the bag being short and round, his head almost immediately fell to the ground again. His cap also had fallen off, and the wind began to fill his hair with fine dry snow. The cold was so severe that even the Chukchee could keep warm only by continual exercise. A'niqai lay there quite motionless. I caught his look. Though dull and feeble, it was full of helpless pain, and had something of that of a dying animal.
   Another tragic figure of my acquaintance was a woman of forty, who suffered from lung trouble, and whom I saw on the Dry Anui River when I had to spend a couple of days in her camp. She had been very active in her youth, a good "shaker of the tent," as the Chukchee say. Even at that time she tried to prove that she was still good for something. She continued the hard toil of the Chukchee housewife, which knows almost no interruption; but her work was not so successful as before. Her tent was full of filth, the sleeping-room was damp and cold, and she herself was black with grease and soot. She would move about in the smoke from the fire, which was fed with the damp fuel of the tundra, rattling the kettles and pans. Then a fit of violent coughing would seize her; and her figure would emerge from the smoke, and she would stand on the snow, stamping her feet, and clutching her chest with her hands. When the fit was over, she would curse her fate and sufferings, and even her own life; and her face, black with soot, became still blacker with anger.
   The most peculiar cause for voluntary death is the wrath, the lack of patience, of the Chukchee, which was mentioned by Lotteri as early as 1765. {Compare p. 44.} Unable to fight against suffering of any kind, physical or mental, the Chukchee prefers to see it destroyed, together with his own life. Thus Aiñanwa't told me how some years ago his neighbor in camp, Little-Spoon by name, requested that he be killed. "He and his wife often quarrelled because they had very bad sons. From quarrelling with his wife came his desire to be killed. One day his elder son and his mother picked a quarrel with him. Then he asked to be killed." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 53.}
   Other Chukchee of my acquaintance added the following explanation: "Among our people, when a father is very angry with his lazy and bad son, he says, 'I do not want to see him any more. Let me go away.' Then he asks to be killed, and charges the very son who offended him with the execution of his request. 'Let him give me the mortal blow, let him suffer from the memory of it.'
   Deep sorrow on account of the loss of some near friend must also be mentioned as a reason for voluntary death. I have spoken before of a husband who wanted to follow his dead wife. {Compare p. 551.}
   Last among the motives of voluntary death, toedium vitoe should be mentioned. I have related the case of a man named Ka'tik, who, when speaking with me, declared that he did not desire to live any longer. He gave as his reason that fortune did not like him, though his herd and family were prospering. I did not pay much attention to his words, but a few months afterwards I heard that he had really had himself strangled. {Compare p. 47.}
   Another case of the same character refers to a widow of forty, who lived with her son and two nephews, being an owner of a considerable herd. She felt that life held no pleasures for her. She was in fear that her herd might decrease, and that she would feel ashamed to live. She died by strangulation. The case was related to me by Aiñanwa't.
   It must be borne in mind that all these psychical motives lead as often to suicide as to voluntary death. The difference is, that the younger people, especially those not yet fully grown, when desiring to die, destroy their life with their own hands, while those who are older more frequently ask to be killed. I know some cases of boys and girls who were not yet twenty, and who killed themselves from spite, shame, or sorrow. {Compare p. 46.} Not one of them could have induced his house-mates to be his "assistant" in dying. For the older people, such assistance is considered more becoming than death by their own hands.
   An additional source for this inclination for voluntary death is the idea that death by violence is preferable to death by disease or old age. Even the term which is used for "voluntary death" has some connection with this idea. It is called vêrê'tirgin ("single fight"). A man who feels a desire to die a voluntary death sometimes even says, "Let us have a single fight" (Minmarau'mik), or "Since like a wild reindeer I became for thee" (Če'ñet im ilve'nu ine'lhii3); and this is understood as a request to be killed. Another expression is used chiefly in folk-tales: "Since I became for thee like thy quarry" (Če'ñet-im gi'nniku ine'lhii3), or, more directly, "Like thy quarry treat me" (Gi'nniku qine'lhii3). These formulas are used by warriors when they are vanquished by an adversary and do not want to outlive their defeat. The meaning is, "Give me a mortal stroke, since I have become for you as a game-animal." The same formula is sometimes used in real life by those desiring voluntary death. The Chukchee explained the motive to me, saying, "We do not want to die through ke'let. We want to die a violent death, to die fighting, as if we were fighting with the Russians." The Russians were singled out probably for my own benefit. Death by disease, as has been explained before, is ascribed to the wiles of the ke'let. {Compare p. 298.} The tendency to desire voluntary death is more or less hereditary in some Chukchee families, not so much as a duty, as rather a fate which passes from father to son. In a detailed description of a case of voluntary death, which I noted down from the words of natives, it is said, "Since his father died this way, he wanted to imitate him." The father was stabbed with a knife; but, when death did not come immediately, he requested that he be strangled with a rope, which was done accordingly. The son also was stabbed, but the stroke was not mortal. So he went still further in imitating his father, and also requested that he might die by strangulation, which was immediately executed.
   Aiñanwa't, whose name has been mentioned several times, told me that his father and elder brother died this way, and that he himself felt an inclination to end his life in the same manner, though it is by no means obligatory for a son to follow the example of his father. One of his brothers died a natural death, and so did not continue the tradition.
   That voluntary death is considered praiseworthy, may be seen also from the fact, that, in the descriptions of the other world, those who have died this way are given one of the best dwelling-places. They dwell on the red blaze of the aurora borealis, and pass their time playing ball with a walrus-skull. {Compare p. 334.}
   When a man shows a desire to die a voluntary death, his house-mates usually show much fear, and often try to dissuade him. This is done in good earnest, because the duty of killing, and a near relative at that, is considered something terrible. When the person has no sons and wants to die by stabbing, there is often some difficulty in having his desire executed. Nobody wants to deal the mortal blow. In two cases mentioned before, the hand of the son who had to kill his father was unsteady, and the wound he inflicted was not immediately mortal. The dispute between the man wishing to die a voluntary death and his house-mates is well represented in the tale of Ai'ginto.
   Ai'ginto said, "Oh! they (the kelet) have stolen my son. How can I continue to live? I am childless. My son is stolen. Why should I live any longer? Do something to me (i. е., kill me)!" -- "No," said the master of the camp, "why should I do such a thing to (against) my spleen-companion?" {Êmño'l-tѳ'mgin (literally, "spleen-companion") is one who helps to while away time, and thus drive off the feeling of dulness. This term is used, for instance, by old men and infirm people, who have to keep to the inner room. It is applied to the guests, tobacco, etc.} -- "No, no, do it. Have you any white driving-reindeer?" -- "I have."-- "Have you white clothes?" -- "I have." -- "Have you a white cap, white boots, white mittens, a white rug?" -- "I have everything." -- "These shall be for my departure. Then do it." -- "No, no, I cannot. Let me give you one of my own sons. Let each of us have one son." -- "I do not want other men's sons. Where is my own son? Make haste!" -- "No, no! Let me give you both my sons. Let me be childless." -- "I do not want them. Where is my own boy? Here, kill me!" They quarrelled the whole day long. Ai'ginto reproved the master bitterly, so that the latter had to yield. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 265.}
   Nevertheless, when the formula is pronounced aloud, no retreat is possible, because the spirits who have listened to the promise would severely retaliate at any failure to fulfil it. Thus it appears that voluntary death is at the same time considered as a preventive against death from the wiles of the kelet (i. е., against natural death), and also as a sacrifice to the kelet. This kind of contradiction is often met with in the ideas of the Chukchee. {Concerning the contradictory ideas of the Chukchee, compare also p. 336.} The two ideas refer to quite different aspects of voluntary death.
   A man who is contemplating voluntary death thinks that he will free himself from death by the action of the ke'let, but, when the time of execution comes, the voluntary death cannot be considered other than a bloody sacrifice to the same ke'let; and, though it is not considered a direct means of gaining their good-will, failure to fulfil the promise of the sacrifice brings, according to the ideas of the Chukchee, severe anger and retaliation on the part of the spirits.
   Three methods of voluntary death are known to the Chukchee, -- death by stabbing with a knife or spear, death by strangulation, and death by shooting. The last method is used much less frequently than the others. The bow is never used, only the rifle. It seems, therefore, that this method has come into use quite recently. The reason for using the rifle is that death is more sudden and less painful. The people who kill the person desiring to die are called "assistants" or "followers," like those in the funeral ceremony. {Compare p. 521.} When death is inflicted by stabbing, the mortal stroke must be given by men. Women are not allowed to take part in the execution. The knife of the person being killed has to be used. Then the death-stroke is less painful. After death the wound has to be sewed up with thread. The knife is carried to the funeral place and left there. A death stroke dealt by the hand of a son is not painful, that given by the hand of a complete stranger is extremely painful. Therefore, when in a strange camp, while on a journey or at a fair, voluntary death is executed by other means than stabbing. When the person is stabbed with a spear, his face is usually covered with a piece of skin or with a shawl. Often he takes his position in the inner room, close to the entrance. The executioner stands in the outer room, holding his spear forward, and the man who desires to be killed takes the spear-head with both his hands and points it against his heart. Then he gives a signal for the death-stroke. Both in stabbing with the knife and with the spear, and also in shooting with the rifle, the blow is given from the front, never from behind. While only men are allowed to execute the wish of a person who desires to die a bloody death, women may also assist in killing persons by strangling. The wife of the man who is to die holds his head on her knees wrapped in a shawl, while two men pull from both sides at a rope put around his neck. If the man struggles too much, the woman "smoothes his hands" (i.e., keeps them down with both her hands), or, if her strength is not sufficient, another woman aids her. In one or two cases I listened to a description of strangling from the lips of women who had held the heads of their dying husbands on their knees. They spoke of it with much composure, and related how the strangled man kicked with hands and feet, and how they kept him quiet. After the desire to die is proclaimed aloud, the execution must be done speedily, -- if possible, on the same day or the next one, -- for the ke'let hover about after the promise has been made, and if they have to wait too long, they may lose patience and take some other person. Previous to his last hours, the person is treated with fat meat and "alien food," and all his wishes are fulfilled. The people avoid annoying him; even though he chides them, they must keep silent. Here it should be remembered that some cases of voluntary death originate in wrath. {According to Jochelson (The Koryak, p. 760), the custom of killing old people, until recently, existed among the Koryak. Franz Boas says of the Central Eskimo, that among them it is considered lawful for a man to kill his aged parents (Boas, Central Eskimo, p. 615).}
   I will add here two descriptions of voluntary death noted down from information given by the natives. The first one happened in the year 1894, on the western Kolyma tundra. The second happened on the same tundra a year later. Both were related to me by Aiñanwa't.
   "One Eli'hiki had taken a great quantity of goods on credit from a merchant of Yakutsk. Several years passed, and the debt was not fully covered. One spring he left his home and went to Sredne-Kolymsk from a distant place in the tundra. At the same time all the people passed over to the other shore of the Omolon River. His brother was Rultu'wgi. They drank brandy there in the tent of U'nkuul, a Tungus. A hernia, which was an object of constant care with him, was frost-bitten, and therefore refused to go in. Thus ill-luck visited him. He suffered great pain and sorrow because he could not put his bowels in place. Therefore he began to speak, requesting his companion in marriage to give him death. U'nkuul was his companion in marriage. The neighboring camp was that of his younger brother. Eli'hiki went to the town with them, without a tent of his own. His wife had very small children, (and could not go with them.) Then he was afflicted in the manner aforesaid; and, since his father died a voluntary death, he wanted to imitate his father.
   "Oh! why have I not begun with the father first? He was breaking wind badly, and could not defecate normally. In his anus was formed a white stone, a soft one, round in form and polished. They found it in his rectum after his death. That one asked to be killed. The elder son was assisting him. He seemed sighing his last, but unexpectedly tore out the knife and came to life again. Since he could not be killed by stabbing, he said, 'Tighten it on me!' So they strangled him with a rope. When he was dead, they carried him away into the tundra, and, putting his body on the ground, investigated his rectum. There they found the white stone. Still when alive, he defecated stone or sand, and who knows what not!
   "His son after him came to be in the same position. Therefore, being at the tent of his marriage-companion, he asked to be killed. They listened to him, and wanted to obey him. In obedience to him, they put him on a grated sled and took him to his brother's tent. There they executed his desire. The younger brother was assisting him, but he could not do it in a proper way. His hand trembled. He himself said, 'There, turn the knife a little more aside;' but his assistant could not do it. Then he used that very word of his father, {Compare p. 563.} 'Tighten it on me!' Indeed, they strangled him with a rope and killed him. That was the end."
   Another story refers to a desire for voluntary death once expressed and then revoked. The story is as follows: --
   "My neighbor in the camp, Little-Spoon by name, also asked to be killed. With many words he persuaded his house-mates. Before that, he had quarrelled with his wife. They had very bad sons. His sons and their mother quarrelled with their father. For that reason he was angered. Therefore he asked to be killed. They had only driving-reindeer, almost no other reindeer. The other sons slaughtered a woman's driving-reindeer led by the halter (i. е., very well broken), because he had many more sons. But the oldest son quarrelled with him. Therefore it was necessary to kill a reindeer-buck for his last meal. We thought he was really asking to be killed. We made haste and prepared everything necessary. We replaced the broken and mended parts of the sledges with new ones, for our people consider a repaired sledge not fit for use in death. If something broken and repaired breaks again on the trail of the dead, what would he (the dead one) do?
   "The dog people live halfway; and when the one who died reaches them, the dead come to meet him. They know that he is coming, and say, 'He will lose his way.' They are aware of his helplessness, because there are many paths, all leading to the relatives among the dead. For that reason the reindeer and the clothes of other people must not be used. The dead people going to and fro in their own country move windward, and catch the smell, saying, 'These clothes have an odor of our home.' Then they take them away. Therefore nothing belonging to other men must be used. Poor men will use only suits of clothes of their own. New clothes, taken from others, or received as a gift, are put aside. Things very bad, but one's own, are put into use. I must say the truth, the dead people are very bad people. They would not say, 'Leave him alone!' {Compare p. 335.}
   "Meanwhile, whence do the living people know all about it? To be sure, many of our people come back from the trail of the dead. Probably they have made known the customs of the country of the dead. Many dead ones are turned back by the power of incantations. Even I, when I was rich, received several such incantations from hungry old women, gratifying their stomach with food. But I am sorry to say that at present I have lost those incantations, being so poor.
   "A man going along the trail of the dead may be turned back by a dog. The shaman bites the left ear of the dog, and says to it, 'Go and bring back thy master. We will feed thee with the best food.' (He may also be brought back with an incantation.) One with a slight disease may be turned back where the trail is barred by a dog, which, springing at his face, makes him come back. One with a serious disease would not yield. When a man coming back from the dead has turned back, the dog is killed. The Reindeer people keep dogs because they are very strong in bringing back those dying ones. Is there any other use for them? We have to feed them. I cannot deny, however, that the dog is good for many other uses. In hunting big game, he has a loud voice, that is a useful protection against a bear met unexpectedly in the dark. You know it yourself, -- everybody has a dog, many of the people have dogs. When we travelled with you, nobody was without a dog. In connection with this, when a man goes along the trail of the dead, it is useless to take a reindeer for an incantation. The reindeer is full of fear. It runs from afar and exerts no influence; it is only visible to eyes. To be sure, it appears (on the trail), but only from afar.
   "And when a man is quite dead and has ceased breathing, those who are living do not weep for him, -- those looking (upon the world) members of his family. They do not weep shortly after he is dead. Weeping is sinful. The one who has a slight disease is rejected by the dead. They say, 'Why did you come? Go away, go home.' Then he goes away, returns home. It appears in various ways. One may breathe, but he will lose his wits. In this case he probably has an hallucination. He says, 'I have come back from the dead.'
   "Some people eat fly-agaric. Those from the Anadyr bring fly-agaric. Before eating, they say to it, 'Take me to the dead;' and, indeed, they are taken there. He sinks down, falls into a swoon, and then he is taken away, -- not his body, but only his soul. And some one who has a hidden disease may stay there forever. Therefore what has been said about the taking-away of clothes must have become known through those who eat fly-agaric. Indeed, from three sources it may become known, -- from those who are turned back by dogs, from those sent back by the Merciful Being because the dead have rejected them (these first two bring tidings), and from those who eat fly-agaric.
   "Little-Spoon, however, unexpectedly stopped his preparations, although before it seemed that he had made up his mind. We had made all the necessary preparations, and were gathering our sledges and the other things required; but we were disappointed, for evening came, and we were still waiting in vain. Finally we could not wait any longer, and stopped our preparations. Evening came, night came. We were speechless. He had only gorged himself. He had eaten the best and sweetest morsels. I questioned his sons, and said to them, 'Well, what is he doing?' They replied, 'We will begin after he has eaten.' Then they said, 'He has gone to sleep.' The sledge remained behind the tent all night, as though in readiness for one really dead. The following morning, when he awoke, he would not come out of the sleeping-room. He remained there all the time. Among us reindeer-breeders it is a great sin to talk about voluntary death without executing one's intentions: therefore the next fall three of his sons died. Thus he brought a great misfortune upon himself by talking about voluntary death. I sent him away, saying, 'Do not stay here. We might become unlucky; we might lose our reindeer or have other misfortunes.' Therefore we separated. Another year he died on the western tundra. And I say once more, when somebody speaks about voluntary death, the Outer Being hears his words. Should he say ever so little about it, he has to buy it off with heavy ransom. When his house-mates induce him to retract his intented promise, he gives away whatever is nearest to his heart. He gives it in ransom to the Outer Being, on account of a single word about voluntary death, saying, 'This is my body, I have spoken foolishly.' He gives as a sacrifice, on account of his word, something that he values most. This is because many who are sick ask for death and then recover, or are restrained by words of their friends and do not go away.
   "I myself once spoke thus foolishly. It is not very long ago, when I was old enough to know better. I must say also, that, for the reindeer-breeder, the wolf and the evil spirit are a pair. One spring I could not keep my herd together. It was at the end of spring. About that time the earth begins to free itself from snow, and the reindeer like to scatter in all directions. The reindeer-breeders call this time 'greedy fuss' (čipči'ñilet). This time is terrible for all. On account of my inability (to manage the reindeer), I spoke thus foolishly. When I was younger, I could assuage my anger by outrunning the reindeer. That time I spoke foolishly because I felt my weakness: 'Here wolves, catch them and eat them!' After a while I gave a ransom for these words, -- slaughtered some reindeer, and I also slaughtered one of my driving-reindeer that was very dear to me. It was the first time that I spoke such foolish words." {Compare Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 52.}
   Voluntary death occurs also among the Maritime Chukchee and the Eskimo, and with the same details as among the Reindeer people. I know of only a few cases, however. Thus, in the village of Eu'nmum, a man of middle age, who suffered from an abscess in his side, had himself strangled with a rope.
   In the year 1898, in the Eskimo village Uñi'sak, an old man was shot at his own request. He was shot from behind. This is the only case of voluntary death known to me, where the death-stroke was dealt from behind.
   W. H. Dall, quoting a man named Noakum, a native of Plover Bay, describes the killing of old men in the following manner: "Old and useless people frequently ask to be put to death. The victim is taken to the place of the dead, and an oval of stones is built. A large head-stone is placed at one end, and another large stone at the foot; under these, two poles are laid with thongs attached. A deer is killed, and the blood allowed to flow on the head-stone. The victim is then placed on his back. The legs and arms of course extend over the stone oval, and are tied to the poles, so that motion is impossible. He is then asked if he is ready for death. If the answer is affirmative, his nostrils are stopped up with a substance which stupefies him. If the answer is negative, the deer-meat, which is otherwise eaten, is burned as a kind of atoning-service." Dall describes part of these doings as an eyewitness. "When we arrived, everything was ready. The women and children were cutting up the deer-meat, and the blood was on the head-stone. The victim, a blind but not decrepit man, was sitting by the head-stone," {Dall, I, p. 382.} etc. Further on Dall mentions that the natives were much disturbed at the approach of the Americans, and, fearing interference, refused to go on until the vessels had left.
   I am afraid that Dall's description of these facts is due to some misunderstanding. The Chukchee have no stupefying substance. {Mr. Dall supposes, further on, that the stupefying agent may have been prepared from the wild nux vomica, which grows to the westward. No such thing is known in these regions. The Chukchee and other inhabitants, indeed, buy from the Russian merchants ready-made pills, prepared from a species of Strychnus (in Russian чилибуха) and brought from Yakutsk; but these pills are used only for baiting-purposes, wrapped in meat or fat, against foxes, wolves, etc.} It is quite difficult to catch and bring a live reindeer to such a place of sacrifice, especially in the summer. As to the killings of the old people over the stone oval, I at least could get no information about it.


   Marriage among the Reindeer Chukchee. -- With the Reindeer Chukchee no man can live a tolerable life without having a separate house of his own and a woman to take care of it. The sleeping-room of the Chukchee "genuine house" is exceedingly small, and there is no extra place in it even for a brother or a near relative. Thus a man living in another man's camp, and dependent on the herd of the master, must still have a house of his own; otherwise, when he comes home for a rest, he may be obliged to sleep in the open just in the worst part of the season, when nobody would be willing to change places with him. He will also have no one to mend his clothes and to see that they are dried, because the women of the master's tent will have plenty to do for their own people. If he is not married, and has a mother, she will be able to take care of his home; but even a mother's care is not sufficient. In the depth of winter, when going away with the herd from the winter quarters, he should take with him a young woman, strong of body, and light of foot, to take care of his travelling-tent, and also, in the case of need, to lend a hand with the restive animals. A sister, of course, may do that, but sisters are apt to go away to other men's houses. Sometimes one of the master's daughters may go with a young unmarried herdsman of her father, but a trip like this will lead to marriage. Among the motives for marriage must also be mentioned the idea of the necessity of continuing the family line, and of not allowing it to be broken off. This idea is well-expressed in one tale, where a sister says to her only brother, "Go seek a wife for yourself; take her and generate children, lest our family life be extinguished in later years. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 124.} Words like these are found in many tales.
   Therefore each Reindeer Chukchee, when he feels himself to be "with full-grown body" (uwi'k-ipči'tkuk), endeavors to be married and have a home of his own. A man full-grown and unmarried is despised by the people, and in reality is looked upon as a good-for-nothing (tŭmñe'-lei'vulin), a lounger, a tramp, idly wandering from camp to camp. {According to E. Westermarck, on the authority of Armstrong (Discovery of the North-West Passage, p. 192), among the Eskimo a person who does not marry is looked upon almost as an unnatural being, or at any rate is disdained (E. Westermarck, History of Human Marriage, p. 136).} I shall speak of such men further on; but even among them, many have a wife, and wander about with her, or leave her for a time in another person's house. Besides this, there are men who cannot have a wife because of some grave physical defect which hinders sexual life. Thus, the Chukchee told me that sometimes, when a mother was neglectful of her infant, and did not change frequently enough the soiled moss and hair on its diaper, {Compare p. 252.} the membrum virile of the infant would swell abnormally at the end, and the swelling would often remain throughout life and make all sexual functions impossible. This kind of abnormality is expressed in the Chukchee language by a special verb, totaiño'rkin ("thou acquirest the swelling on the membrum virile"). A man with such an abnormality, of course, is incapable of sexual life, and therefore cannot have a wife and a home of his own. I have not met personally any man with such a deformity; but, when travelling on the Dry Anui River, I was told that in the year previous a man so afflicted had died from influenza. He was quite old, and lived as a herdsman in a camp of a rich reindeer-breeder. He slept in the house of his master, having neither wife nor home of his own. Sometimes, when feeling dull, he would take a drum and begin to drum and sing, "Oh, oh, oh! From the hands of my mother I got a swelling on my penis."
   A family of women having no man may live in a camp, depending for their subsistence on the herd of the master. Some old women even live singly in the camp, having a little house and a few pack-sledges of their own; but such existence is hard to bear, and is avoided by younger women, who, if left alone in the world, leave their own house, and seek that of another. Thus, in an autobiographical narrative by a Chukchee, Tinpu'urgin, published in my "Chukchee Materials" (p. 60), he tells of a similar circumstance in the case of his elder sister, as follows: --
   "Then [after their father had died] Ai'hinto [the master of the camp] said to my sister, 'You must throw away your tent.' . . . She said, 'Why not? I have neither father nor husband. Then for whom must I put up the tent, shake and dust the skins? Is it for you?' Then she left in the open everything that she had, -- fire-drills, sledges, and charm-strings. These last she cut up, thus wholly renouncing them for the future. Also the tent, of her father's make, the covered sledge, the tent-poles, all pack-sledges, -- everything was cut and destroyed."
   Thus marriage is the normal state of Reindeer Chukchee life, and is even the basis of all economical conditions. In this respect the Reindeer Chukchee differ from all their neighbors. Among the Maritime portion of the tribe marriage is not so indispensable to life, and the unmarried state is somewhat more common. Among the Tungus, unmarried men are also more frequently met, because marriages there are strictly exogamic, and a bride may be taken only from another clan than that of the bridegroom. Moreover, a considerable price has to be paid for her.
   In most striking contrast to the Reindeer Chukchee in this respect are all the clans of the Russianized Yukaghir living on the Lower Kolyma River. These clans are more or less rapidly dying out, some being nearly extinct. Others still include a few dozen people each. Among these, about one third of the adult men are unmarried. One reason for this is the heavy burden of the tribute for "dead souls," which weighs heavily on these weak, half-starving people. Besides this, however, they seem to feel a dull aversion to marrying and having a family. "It is more convenient thus," was the answer of every one of them to all my questions: "the more children, the more care."
   Marriages among the Reindeer Chukchee, as will be shown further on, are concluded at every age, from very tender infancy up to the full-grown adult. Their ideal of a bride includes, in the first place, physical strength and ability to work. Even in their descriptions of womanly beauty, strength of body is mentioned before everything else, and all other characteristics are so combined as to make still more impressive the idea of greath strength. {Compare p. 37.}
   Chastity of Women. -- Chastity is not considered as in any way an essential quality of an ideal bride. Indeed, the Chukchee language has no word to express this idea, not even a special word for "girl." It has only the word ne'us'qat ("woman"); in combination, also -ñew, -ñaw, -ñe, -ña. Ya'nřa-ñaw ("separate woman") is used for any woman who, for the time being, has no husband, whether she be a girl, a widow, or a divorced woman. For "chastity" only a paraphrase may be used; such as, yep ayaa'kĕlên ("not yet put in use"). This may be due in part to the extreme sensuality which is characteristic of the Chukchee, both male and female. "Best thing (in the world)" (ina'n-tam-va'irgin), every one would tell me with great persuasion concerning sexual life. The people enjoy ribald tales and lewd gestures. Many of the nick-names are very obscene. {Compare p. 37.}
   In a tale about A'ñqalo's wife, when the young bride is brought to the camp in a covered sledge, the neighbors say, "Let us have a look at this young woman, A'ñqalo's wife's daughter." -- "No, it is impossible," says the bridegroom. "If you look at her, you will die!" They come to the place. People gather from all sides, -- old women with staffs, elderly people, the middle-aged, young men. The old people say, "Let us have, though, but one look!" -- "Nay, if you look at her, you will die." -- "No, no! Are we children? Are we foolish people? Make her appear. Let us have a look at the female beauty." -- "As you like." He told his wife to show from the covered sledge only one of her hands. When they saw that hand, the old people and the others, then, from the mere lustful trembling of their loins, they all died instantly. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 244.} This episode is repeated in many other tales. Some of the old men complained to me that this extreme sensuality has developed through the influence of modern times. "The people are spoiled," said these men. "Our young men have ceased to think about war and strife, and their whole attention is directed to the bosom of a woman's dress. They cease to gather together. They avoid each other like wild reindeer; but they catch the odor of the female as quickly as reindeer-bucks." I do not give much credence to such complaints. The tales show plainly enough that in the old war times the sensuality of this people was just as strong as it is at present.
   Still, many of the Chukchee girls are chaste until their marriage; and, in comparison with the other tribes of this country, the Chukchee are considerably more decent. Among the Russian and Russianized natives throughout the whole northeast, from the Lena River to Kamchatka, hardly any girl remains virgin until her marriage. Most of them begin sexual life with the first traces of maturity, being but fifteen or sixteen, and sometimes only twelve or thirteen years old, and quite immature. All kinds of cases of adultery and incest also occur, even in the families of the clergy, and are participated in by monks and missionaries. Of this I shall speak later on in more detail. Among the Russian Creoles even new proverbs were created, which have reference to this sexual promiscuity: for instance, "Married is not sold for slavery" (венчалась, не продалась); "A woman is not a muffin, you cannot eat her up all alone" (баба не калачъ, одинъ не съѣшь); "A finger in a ring is not a bolt on the door" (палецъ въ кольцѣ, не замокъ на крыльце); "Whatsoever bull may have leaped, the calf is our own" (чей бы быкъ ни скакалъ, а теленочекъ нашъ).
   The Reindeer Chukchee girls grow mature later than those of the neighboring tribes; {Compare p. 37.} and since the Chukchee camps are thinly scattered over the tundra, many of their girls have no chance to meet friendly young men. Being shy and proud by nature, a Reindeer Chukchee girl would avoid flirting with a man wholly unknown to her. She would prefer to become intimately acquainted with him, and then perhaps have him for a husband.
   Still, not a few of the girls have lovers and bear children without being married. The language has a special term for illegitimate, illegal love, vi'n.vitkurkin ("Thou keepest up a clandestine love"), derived from the adverb vi'n.ve ("clandestinely"). Natural children are kept on the same footing as others; the more so, as frequent divorces often leave the woman with her children in the family of her father, and it is rather difficult to distinguish between these latter and the natural children. The Chukchee say, "When a child is born, we rejoice over it, no matter whether it is natural or legitimate." I once met a family on the Dry Anui River, consisting of an old father, a daughter not very young, and four grown-up sons. The daughter was considerably older than her brothers, and since their mother had been dead quite a long time, she had taken care of the house for the previous fifteen years. Moreover, when she was quite young, her father had made her the "principal heir" to the herd. {Compare p. 359.} Now, two of the brothers were already married, and each of them had a child. The girl had borne a son some five years before. This son was proclaimed the principal heir; and now it was presumed that he would inherit the oldest of the reindeer ear-marks, with which would go the bulk of the herd.
   Violence on Women. -- I mentioned before that Chukchee males are often inclined to violence and rape. Thus, in the tale about Scabby-Shaman, the young Ri'ntew, when he has become a "mocking shaman," {See p. 431 of this volume.} begins to act quite shamelessly. He runs from tent to tent, from one sleeping-room to another. Wheresoever there is a woman, he violates her. Where a man is lying quietly, he catches him by the penis, shakes him, and lifts him. When he comes to a sleeping-room and finds an old man and old woman sleeping there quietly, he enters and catches the man by the penis, tears away his breeches, then shoves him here and there, and at last throws him down. After that he tears away all clothing from the old woman, takes off everything, and copulates with her. Throughout the night he runs about from one tent to another, acting in this manner. In his great speed he casts away his breeches and boots. Thus he runs about naked and violates women. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 207.}
   In another tale about Lucky-Suitor, a young man wants to marry a proud girl. When she refuses him, he visits her among her herd, catches her, takes off all her clothes, then tramples her down into the snow and scratches her whole face with the point of his knife. The next year he is severely punished for this act by an accepted suitor of the girl.
   I have already mentioned, that, since the young men marry early, sexual relations sometimes begin before full maturity is reached. Not infrequently very young girls bear children; and the language contains a special term for them, as êčva'k-ä3La' ("the fawn mother"), which is the same term as that applied to a fawn bearing young. {Compare p. 37.} Some female fawns bear young the first spring after their birth, being hardly a year old.
   I mentioned also, that, on the whole, the Chukchee have a notion that early marriages are injurious to the health of the woman, and tend to diminish the number of births. {I. Veniaminoff mentions that among the Athka Aleuts cohabitation with one's bride or future wife before the proper time was considered as sinful (Notes on the Islands of Unalashka District, p. 8, Part III in Russian).} Therefore it is held to be equally blameworthy to have intercourse with a girl that is not perfectly mature, or, according to a Chukchee statement, with one "not having full breasts and the menses."
   D. J. Melikoff, in his report, states, quoting from Ei'heli, "the so-called general chief of the Chukchee," whose name has already been mentioned, and also from his brother-in-law, Omrêlqo't, that with the Chukchee, violence on a young girl not perfectly mature is considered to be a serious crime, and therefore is severely punished by the Council of the Elders. I mentioned in the list of authorities quoted that this report was in manuscript. W. I. Jochelson, {Notes on the Population of the Yakutsk Province in Historical and Ethnographical Respects (Живая Старина, Olden Times Revived, 1895, Part II, p. 35).} in one of his papers, mentions an oral communication from D. I. Melikoff to the same purpose.
   "According to an [oral] communication by Melikoff, the Chukchee have three categories of deeds which are considered as criminal and requiring punishment, -- (1) theft from one's own people, (2) violence on virgins whose breasts are not yet full-grown (the elders to be the judges as to the maturity or immaturity of the breasts of the girl), (3) murder. On all crimes of these kinds the elders pass judgment, which consists of a fine or of corporal punishment, or, finally, of death. The execution of the judgment is given to the clan to which the subject of the crime belongs. If, however, this clan refuses to execute the sentence on one of its members, then the other clan, to which the object of the crime belongs, shall have complete freedom of action. Then sooner or later the punishment is administered."
   Now, the Chukchee have no such thing as a council of the elders; neither have they any idea that a trespass against the law, however serious it may be, must be punished by the people as a whole. The Chukchee law is wholly regulated by personal action; and there is no punishment as a public institution, but only private vengeance, ransom, or strife. I shall speak of this later on.
   The words of Ei'heli, perhaps, may be considered only as an attempt to adapt his information to the ideas of a Russian "big official," which may have been made still worse through the mediation of ignorant interpreters with their broken Russo-Chukchee jargon. {Compare p. 289.}
   I may mention here that Ei'heli tried to give other information of a similar kind, and of no better quality. For instance, he told me that in the earlier times the Chukchee were much incensed in cases of adultery. Thus, if a married woman were caught with a man, both had their noses cut off by way of punishment. The husband would say to his wife, "Your beauty is much prized by this fellow. Now see what will be left of it." This whole narration has hardly anything to do with the facts of real life. In reality, a Chukchee man, when having caught his wife with another man, will perhaps feel angry. Then he will go to the camp of the trespasser, have intercourse with his wife, and by this means form with him a tie of group-marriage. {Of the tribes of northeastern Asia, the Koryak, and partly the Kamchadal, consider adultery as a serious trespass. Perhaps the narrative of Ei'heli refers in some degree to the traditions of these tribes. It is known that among several peoples adultery is punished by cutting off the nose of the woman and of her seducer. E. Westermarck (History of Human Marriage, p. 122) mentions such a practice as existing among several tribes of North America, India, etc. Among others, Clark Wissler (Annual Archaeological Report, being the Appendix to the Report of the Minister of Education, Ontario, 1905, p. 173) mentions that with the Blackfoot Indians, women were punished for adultery by cutting off their noses, so that they might bear the mark of their shame all their lives.}
   In respect to particular cases of acts of violence on very young girls, I know of several instances which were left without any punishment. One happened on the Dry Anui River in the camp of a Chukchee named Ata'to. Among his old acquaintances was one Peter Kotelnikoff, a Russian Creole from the village Sukharnoye on the Lower Kolyma. Kotelnikoff was very poor, and every spring fed his family on reindeer meat received from his Chukchee friends. At last, in the spring of 1890, when he was in greater need of food than usual, Kotelnikoff decided to give his youngest daughter, a girl thirteen years old, in marriage to Attowa'k, the eldest son of Ata'to, a big man of some twenty-five years. He did so, and in exchange for the girl he received four slaughtered reindeer. The Chukchee are fond of "alien" women, especially of Russian women, and the marriage .was decided upon. It was to be celebrated on the morning after the purchase had been made, according to the Chukchee ritual, but during the night the bridegroom tried to take his future rights by force. The girl, who had wept the whole previous day, screamed and called for help. In the camp were two political exiles, who had come to buy reindeer-meat for the exiles of the Lower Kolyma. One of them was aroused by the screams of the girl, and through his energetic intervention she was rescued from the hands of the Chukchee and taken back to the Kolyma. The bridegroom threatened vengeance, but nothing further happened. A few years later the girl was married to a Russian of the Kolyma.
   Another case of the kind occurred in my presence in the year 1894 in the camp of Qergu'wgi the Lame, on the river Omolon. Qergu'wgi belonged to a rich family, that owned several large herds. Though lame in one leg, he tended his own herd with the help of two herdsmen. Other members of the family also had poor neighbors in their camp who assisted them in attending to the herd. One of them, Keute'hin by name, took his daughter to the camp of Qergu'wgi and left her for a while in the tent of one of Qergu'wgi's neighbors. The girl was about fifteen years old and very pretty, even from the point of view of the white man. As soon as her father was away, the lame master sent for her, and after a short conversation made her, then and there, his second wife. His first wife was older than he. He had married her when he was five years old.
   A few days afterward I met the father of the girl in another camp. He called the lame man all sorts of names, and said that in two days he would go to settle the account. I returned to the camp of Qergu'wgi to see what would follow. Keute'hin really came, and immediately afterwards entered the sleeping-room of the lame man, who did not feel very well and kept to the sleeping-room all day. I entered behind the angry father; but nothing unusual happened. "I have come for my daughter!" said Keute'hin, with an angry look. "Eh, eh!" answered Qergu'wgi, acknowledging the demand. "Let her make her bundle and go with you." -- "I will take that girl with me," repeated the father in the same irascible tone. "Take a couple of young reindeer with you." Nothing more was said. Keute'hin took the girl and the reindeer. A few months afterwards the girl was again in the camp of Qergu'wgi. This time the father consented to leave her there.
   I know of two or three cases of rape against married women. One of them led to a quarrel between the offender and the woman's husband. Another only gave cause to much laughter in the neighborhood. In a third case, a rich Chukchee by the name of Tatk-Omru'wge was accused by a Tungus from a neighboring camp of attempting to overpower his wife. The complaint was brought before the Cossack officer in the Russian settlement of Nishne-Kolymsk. It was late in the spring, and the whole Russian population of the Kolyma, as well as that of the Tungus and the Yukaghir, Russianized and non-Russianized, suffered severely from hunger. In such times rich Chukchee reindeer-breeders place their herds as far away as possible from their hungry neighbors.
   Tatk-Omru'wge was quite stingy, but nevertheless he staid not farther away than forty miles from Nishne-Kolymsk. Thus it happened that a party of Cossacks made a raid on his camp, took him prisoner, and carried him to Nishne-Kolymsk, where he was put in prison. To make the impression of the imprisonment stronger, the stove was liberally heated for the night, and covered up so early that the room was filled with the fumes of charcoal. The next morning the prisoner bought his freedom with a donation of one hundred reindeer for the poorest Creoles, and of twenty reindeer for the Tungus. The officer registered this as a free gift of the Chukchee, and the quarrel was considered adjusted.
   Of course, this little story has nothing to do with the customs of the Chukchee, not even with those of the Tungus, but only with the methods of the hungry Russian Creoles in getting food for themselves.
   Marriage between Relatives. -- The Chukchee have several methods of securing brides and concluding marriages. One of these is through marriage between relatives, if possible in the same family, or at least in the same camp, or in the neighboring camp, where families of the same blood reside. Most frequent are marriages between cousins. {I. Veniaminoff mentions that among the Aleut the daughter of one's uncle was most frequently elected for one's bride (Notes on the Islands of Unalashka District, Part III, p. 76). The same practice existed among the Kamchadal (Krasheninnikoff, II, p. 124), also among the Eskimo at Iglulik and the Ainu (E. Westermarck, History of Human Marriage, p. 296).} Marriage between uncle and niece is considered incestuous, though I know of one case of an uncle living with his niece in clandestine love, and another one of an uncle married to his niece according to the customary ritual. He was ridiculed by his neighbors, however, on account of this marriage. Two cases of incestuous intercourse between father and daughter are also known to me. Marriage or love between brother and sister are also considered as incestuous. Still, in several tales "from the time of the first creation" (tot-tѳmga't-ta'gnêpŭ), i. е., dealing with the creation of the world and of mankind, cases of marriage between brother and sister are described with more or less detail. Thus, in one tale the first human couple are said to have, first a son, then a daughter.. The children sit near the entrance of the tent, and grow up. The mother does not nurse them. They grow up all by themselves. Then the brother marries the sister. They have children. Their son marries his aunt, another daughter of the first couple. Another son marries another aunt. Thus they grow in numbers, become a people, but remain brothers. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 160.}
   Another tale mentions the country Lu3'ren, which is situated on the seashore. This country is mentioned in several tales as one of the countries of the time of the first creation. {A Chukchee village Lu3'ren exists on the Pacific shore, north from Indian Point.} The tale says that the Maritime people living in that country were exterminated by famine. Only two were left, -- a full-grown girl and her infant brother. She fed him with pounded meat. When he grew up, she asked him to marry her. "Otherwise we shall remain childless," said the sister. "We shall have no descendants, and the earth will remain without people. It cannot be peopled otherwise. And who sees us? Who will say, 'Shame'? Who will know about it in the world? We are all alone in the world." The brother said, "I do not know. I feel bad. It is forbidden." Then the sister began to think, "How can I do it? Our line of descent will break off with us."
   Then follows a very vivid and detailed description of how the young woman goes to a distant place, builds a house, quite different from their own, prepares everything belonging to it, and how she makes new clothes for herself. Then she returns and tells the brother that she has seen a house somewhere on the shore. The brother goes in search of this house and finds it. The sister is already there. She has changed her clothes, the expression of her face, the tone of her voice, and he takes her for another woman. After some hesitation, he takes her for his wife. Then begins a life in two houses: the sister is here and there, and plays with success her double role. Finally, when she is pregnant, the brother ceases to think of his sister, and they live at the new place. One child is born, then another. The family multiplies and becomes a people. From them are born all the people in the camps and villages. {Compare Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 174.}
   Most of the marriages between relatives are concluded at a tender age, sometimes when the bridegroom and the bride are still infants. The marriage ritual is performed, and the children grow up, playing together. When a little older, they tend the herd together. Of course, the ties between them grow to be very strong, often stronger even than death: when one dies, the other also dies from grief, or commits suicide.
   Similar to these marriages are those between the members of families friendly to each other, though not connected by ties of blood. Sometimes such families agree to a marriage between their children even before the children are born. Thus, when I was on the Dry Anui River, two men of my acquaintance entered into an agreement of this kind. One had a son three years old. The wife of the other was with child, and the father was quite sure that the child would be a daughter. They agreed that this daughter, when three years old, was to be taken to the family of the boy to grow up with him. {The practice of child-betrothal seems to be universal also among the American Eskimo, as mentioned by Murdoch (Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 410). "Lucien M. Turner says, 'Children are often mated at an early age.' I have known of several instances where two friends, desirous of cementing their ties of fellowship, have engaged that their children, yet unborn, shall be mated." Nelson mentions that very young boys are mated to quite small girls (Nelson, p. 291).} The marriage ritual was to be performed the first autumn after the birth of the girl, in the time of the first fall slaughtering. {See p. 372.}
   More frequently, however, agreements like this are concluded between friendly families on the basis of the exchange of one woman for another.
   Marriage between Persons of Disproportionate Ages. -- The age of women thus exchanged is hardly considered at all. For instance, on the Oloi River, a man named Qi'miqai married his young son five years old to a girl of twenty. In exchange he gave his niece, who was twelve years of age, and she was married to a young man more than twenty years old. The wife of the boy acted as his nurse, fed him with her own hands, and put him to sleep. The other husband had to wait, if he so chose, till his wife should be mature. A grown-up wife who has a boy for her husband may have children from a marriage-companion, a subject of which I shall speak later. {The same practice exists also among the American Eskimo. Murdoch (Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 411) mentions, that, in one case he knew of, the bride was a girl of sixteen, and the husband a lad not over thirteen, who could barely have reached the age of puberty. The girl was living with another and older man.} When her own husband is full grown, the wife is sometimes quite withered. They may live in harmony, notwithstanding the difference of age. In other cases the young husband takes a second wife and neglects the first, as will be described later.
   I was told of a boy of two, who was still being nursed, and who had lost his mother. She had died of influenza. Since the family wanted a woman worker, the infant boy was almost immediately married to a full-grown girl. In due time the bride bore a child from a marriage-companion. When she was nursing her own child, she also nursed her infant husband. Chukchee boys often are nursed until five or six years old. In this case the husband also readily took the breast of his wife. When I asked for the reason of the woman's conduct, the Chukchee replied, "Who knows? Perhaps it is a kind of incantation to insure the love of the young husband in the future." {The marriage of full-grown girls to boys occurs among many other people more civilized than the Chukchee. Among others, I will mention the Great-Russian peasants. Until recent times such marriages were frequently contracted in Great-Russian villages; but, since the Great-Russians have no group-marriage, the role of an actual husband would fall to the father-in-law. This is the so-called снохачестио (from сноха, "daughter-in-law"). Fathers-in-law acting as husbands are called снохачи. In a well-known old Russian anecdote, it is told that one time the people of a village ordered a new church bell. All the house-masters came and wanted to help hoist it to the belfry; but there was some hitch, and all efforts were without avail. Then the Pope bethought himself and exclaimed, "снохачи! hands off", meaning that such hands were too sinful to take part in the holy act; but immediately all the people let go, and the bell fell to the ground. They were all guilty of this sin. At this time this tale is obsolete. -Some similar cases occur also among the Chukchee, but the people talk about them not without derision. Thus, when I was travelling on the Wolverene River, I was told that one Ye'tIläqäi was living with the wife of his minor son Atkai'ñau. The people laughed at him, and gave him a nick-name, inta'irmkên ("[of the] daughter-in-law [a] fond [one]"). This is not considered to be proper, while group-marriages between a woman and men of her age are customary.}
   Cases of disproportionate ages of a married couple are by no means common; for all marriages by exchange constitute only a fraction of all marriages, and cases of disproportionate age occur only in a part of this group. The terms of an exchange of women between families vary a good deal. The exchange must not by any means be immediate; but a delay, even of several years, is admissible. Sometimes, however, too much delay may lead to a quarrel and change friendship to enmity.
   Serving for a Wife. -- The usual method of getting a bride is the so-called ñaund.o'urgin (literally, "for wife herdsman being;" i.e., the custom of serving as a herdsman of the future father-in-law, in payment for the bride). This institution, as its name indicates, evidently originated under the conditions of nomadic life, and the necessity of having young men care for the reindeer-herd. It reminds us of Laban, whose herd Jacob tended for years, first for Leah, then for Rachel. The term applied to this custom is so firmly established that it is used also even among the Maritime Chukchee, though they have no herds, and the bridegroom simply lives in the house of the girl's father and works for him during a certain period.
   Among the Reindeer Chukchee the term has acquired a broader meaning, and is applied to all marriages in which the young man obtains his bride, not through his family connections, but exclusively through his own efforts.
   Before I take up the discussion of marriages concluded through service, I must say a few words about those more romantic marriages in which a young man obtains his bride, not through serving for her, but through braving dangers and overcoming, enemies and competitors.
   Marriages of this kind are very popular in Chukchee tales. Many of these tales describe with vivid and picturesque detail how a man leaves his own country and goes to a distant land in search of a bride, and what adventures he encounters. Some tales begin with a description of a single man who lives quite by himself, and who has never seen any other human being, particularly a woman. In another country lives a woman who has never seen a man. Both feel a peculiar desire, which they do not understand. When they meet, they do not know how to make love. This gives place to ridiculous and obscene details. At last they learn by experience, and become husband and wife. Other tales describe the adventures of a young man who secures his bride right in the middle of a hostile camp or village.
   In these tales much attention is given to the description of the bride, which is made in two different ways. In one type of story, the bride is always described as sitting in the sleeping-room, working with her needle on new clothes of spotted skins, the best of their kind. No man ever sees her face, which is said to be so bright and beautiful that whoever looks on it is in danger of dying from the "lustful trembling of his loins." She walks only on skins. In the night-time, when she goes out for a walk, the best soft skins are spread on the ground under her tiny feet. When taken along by the bridegroom, she cannot travel on foot, because, being of a rich family, she has been accustomed to drive reindeer, "even when going out to follow the demands of nature." All this, of course, does not correspond to the details of Chukchee life, which is so plain, filthy, and democratic.
   In some of these tales the bride is described as kept in a big iron box without a lid. The suitor has to find the entrance, or to open the box and free the prisoner. The parents usually do not want to give away their daughter, and meet the suitor with much harshness. They invite him to perform many difficult and perilous tasks, some of which are of shamanistic character, while others are curiously akin to those really imposed upon Chukchee suitors. One of the most frequently occurring tasks is the request to bring fuel from the woods. In the tale of Attihi'tki and his companions, the hero and his cousin come to the house of a mighty man, whose name is Earth, to ask for his daughter. Numerous suitors are in the house. They are Sun, Moon, Heaven, Darkness, World, Sunrise, Sunset. After dinner the master says, "Our fuel is at an end. Go and get some." But it is difficult to find fuel. The country is quite barren, except for one large trunk of a tree, as long as a river, which stands in the middle of the sea. It is in constant motion. Now it is out of the water, again it sinks down and is submerged. A strong ke'lE is concealed in the trunk of the tree. As soon as any one approaches with an axe and wants to chop off wood, the tree shakes him down and thus causes him to be drowned. Since all the suitors who have been sent are great shamans, they rise from the waters on the opposite shore, and reach the house, following the shore of the sea. Still none of them are able to get fuel from the tree. The hero and his cousin succeed in deluding the watchfulness of the spirit. They obtain a large quantity of wood, and carry it in triumph to the house of the bride. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 235.}
   In other tales the parents conceal from the suitor the dwelling-place of the bride. They visit her in the night-time. Still he finds the place, enters in the darkness, and makes the girl his wife. She offers no resistance, and is glad to have a husband. Then the parents have to give their consent.
   Although it is more than probable that most of these details in the Chukchee folk-tales are borrowed from more southern tribes, it is evident that they were congenial to the character of the Chukchee, so that they became very popular and were repeated over and over again in many tales. It is curious to note that of late years, in the families of rich Maritime merchants of the east shore, some faint realization of these ideas has come to life, partly perhaps through the influence of these tales. For instance, three daughters of Kuva'r, the Eskimo merchant of Indian Point, {See p. 62 of this volume.} had something of the character of the secluded beauty. They were kept, not in the iron box, but in the large sleeping-room of their father's house. When talked to by strange men, they pretended to be shy, and not inclined to conversation. Even the color of their face grew more delicate and white, as becomes a secluded beauty. All their time and attention were given to needle-work on soft, spotted skins. Of those skins they prepared man's clothes of the best quality. Of course these clothes were sold to American whalers in exchange for sugar, flour, and cheap brandy, which does not correspond to the description given in tales.
   The other type of Chukchee bride, as described in tales, corresponds more closely to the conditions of Chukchee life. She is strong and proud. Not either of her parents, but she herself, shows resistance to the suitor. She has to be sought for and conquered by strength and courage.
   In one tale the bride is described as living in a single house with her old parents. She refuses all suitors. Being very swift of foot, she invites them to a foot-race, in which they are defeated. Then they are sent home. At last a young man comes to her house. He drives his spear into the ground in front of the door, and enters. The girl is not there. Her father inquires, "Why have you come?" -- "I am a suitor."-- "We have a daughter; but she is proud, very light of foot, and she invites her suitors to a foot-race." Then the old man looks into the face of the young man, and asks him, "Is she going to outdo you too?" -- "I do not know. Maybe she will." The girl comes home from the herd. "Oh, oh! whose spear is standing here before our door?" The mother says, "Do not speak so loud!" -- "No, no, let him beat me in a foot-race!" She enters the tent. Her braids are very long and heavy. They reach to her ankles and almost sweep the ground. Immediately after her coming, she changes her clothes and puts on breeches and a racing-dress. The father says, "He is weary and cannot run just now." -- "No, no! let us race now." They go out and start. The girl is far ahead. She passes the last hill on their course. She is already on the home stretch. Both are on the home stretch, but she is still in the lead. When they are running down a slope, she teases him, saying, "Can you not outrun me at least here?" -- "No, I am too tired!" But his toes are already upon her heels. He too is light of foot.
   When they are descending another slope, he overtakes her and passes her. Then he speeds forward swifter than an arrow. The long red tassel hanging on his back stretches back straight as a reed. The two braids of the girl also stretch back as straight as two arrows. He looks back over his shoulder and runs still faster. His heart grows lighter. When he looks again, she is left quite far behind. Then he takes his walking-staff by one end and points it upward like one of the antlers of the reindeer-buck, then turns it in the air as does the wild reindeer-buck in the season of rutting. The girl bites her lip, but cannot catch up with him.
   Then she enters the sleeping-room, takes off her racing-dress, unties the boots of the young man, and helps him to take off boots and breeches. She gives him her own racing-dress. Then she cuts off the long tassel from his own fur shirt and pins it to her usual woman's dress. She burns the rest of his clothes in the fire. Then she says to her father, "This night I shall not go to the herd." -- "All right!" says the father. She cooks some supper and carries it into the sleeping-room. After supper she prepares their bed in the corner of the sleeping-room. She spreads some soft skins, lays out the pillow, and brings a blanket of new skins. Then she helps him to take off his clothes, and says, "Lie down to sleep." She covers him with the blanket; then she puts out the light, takes off her own clothes, and slips down under the blanket. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 251.}
   In some tales of this type the parents are willing to accept the suitor, and even help him to conquer the heart of the stubborn beauty. In other tales the neighbors, the people living in the same camp or village, are hostile to the suitor, and try to take his life. Several tales describe the adventures of the suitor, who comes to an alien camp or village, and is welcomed by the people who occupy one of the poorest houses. He marries the daughter of his host. Then the master of the principal house, {"Front-house master" (cf. the next chapter).} or, in other tales, the brothers of the bride, who live in the surrounding houses, or the whole population of the village, say, "Let us have some fun with this bridegroom." Then follows a series of matches and fights, in which the new-comer usually gets the upper hand. After that he takes his wife and returns to his own country.
   In olden times, marriages with people of an alien camp or village may have been accompanied by adventures and difficulties of this kind.
   The practice of meeting a new-comer with some severe test of his courage and physical strength is often described in Chukchee tales, even without reference to marriage. It is arranged by the "front-house master," and performed in the "front house." The same practice is described by several authors as really existing among the American Eskimo. Dr. Franz Boas (Central Eskimo, p. 609) says, "that if a stranger unknown to the inhabitants of a settlement arrives on a visit, he is welcomed by the celebration of a great festival. The stranger approaches slowly, his arms folded, and his head inclined toward the right side. Then the native strikes him with all his strength on the right cheek, and in his turn inclines the head, awaiting the stranger's blow. While this is going on, the other men are playing ball and singing. Thus they continue until one of the combatants is vanquished. The meaning of this duel, according to the natives themselves, is that the two men, in meeting, wish to know which of them is the better man. "The similarity of these ceremonies to those of Greenland is quite striking," adds the author. No less striking is also the fact that all these details, in the same succession, are found in several most popular Chukchee, tales. The difference is, that the Eskimo ceremonies are performed in the special ceremonial house, and the corresponding Chukchee ceremonials in the "front house" of the principal family of the settlement. I have mentioned elsewhere, however, that in ancient times several villages made the same use of the front house of the principal family as of a regular ceremonial house. {Compare p. 386.}
   Some marriages of a romantic character happen also at the present time. Thus, when I was travelling on the Wolverene River, I met a young newly-married couple. The mother of the bride told me, "It was a strange marriage indeed. Two years ago my son passed by their camp, driving his reindeer-team. It was in the beginning of the month of April. The sky was bright, and his mind was still brighter. His heart was full of gladness; but he had no tobacco, so he exclaimed in passing, 'Girls, give me a smoke!' One girl answered, 'No, we will not, unless you take your reindeer from the sledge and tie them to a tent-pole.' So he detached his reindeer and tied them to one of the tent-poles. 'Now give me a smoke, girls!' The same girl took the reindeer out of the harness and drove them into the woods where the herd of the camp was pasturing. So my son was obliged to stay over night. The next morning the young man and the girl went to the herd and remained there for three full days. Who knows," added the old woman, "perhaps all this happened only to lead them to a little boy!" But the brothers of the bride, who belonged to a rich family, objected to the bridegroom, who was poor. So the young pair began a rather strange life, meeting from time to time and living together, then returning to their respective camps. The brothers tried to hide the girl in distant camps of their relatives, but the young man succeeded every time in finding her, and staid with her for a day or two. The following spring the young couple fled from the camp of the girl's family, and, in their turn, tried to hide; but' they were found out. Peace was concluded through the mediation of a Russian merchant, a friend of the young man's mother. He offered to the brother of the girl two bottles of brandy. The young man had to pay for this brandy double price, but his bride was left in his possession.
   A young man who wants to obtain a wife by serving. for her, first of all seeks to inform himself whether his suit will be met with favor. Sometimes he asks one of his friends to go, as if by chance, and have a talk with the older people of the family, in order to ascertain whether they have any plans for the marriage of the girl. The parents answer as little, as possible. Still, if they do not decline quite decidedly, the young man may come and try his chances.
   In other cases, more direct preliminary negotiations are entered into. The father or the uncle of the bridegroom goes to the house of the bride to ask permission for the suit. This preliminary asking is expressed by means of various derivatives of the verb newe'wgirkin ("thou askest for a wife"). The suitor's representative begins by going to the woods and bringing a large bundle of fuel. This is one of the most unpleasant household duties. At the same time, it is never done by guests, but either by poor men or by those taking part in the cares of the household. Thus the young man's representative shows by his act that he is a suitor, and that he wants to share in the household duties. Then follows the first talk. The father of the bride usually shows ill-will and displeasure. He tries to recall to mind every possible reason for quarrelling and for a refusal of the suit, especially any awkward acts. For instance, Me'wet, a man from the Dry Anui, told me that before he was married, his father-in-law had bitterly reproached his father, who acted as suitor, because a few months before, while they were travelling together, Me'wet had driven faster than he had himself. Since the Chukchee are very jealous concerning the speed of their reindeer, {Compare p. 264.} it is considered rather forward, on the part of a young man, to drive faster than those who are older. For this reason young men, when they begin to think of some young girl, always endeavor to be respectful to her father.
   The "asking for a wife" lasts several days or even weeks. The suitor's representative works all the time, notwithstanding his age, gathers fuel, and tends the herd, helping the herdsmen. At the same time he tries to gain the good-will of his stubborn host. He praises the bridegroom and his whole family, and does not desist, notwithstanding all the displeasure shown by his host. At last the latter relents, and says, "Well, what can I do! Go home, it is enough!" or something to the same effect. This is meant as an affirmative answer. {The sending of representatives of the bridegroom to the parents of the bride finds place also among the Tlingit (H. I. Holmsberg, tJber die Volker des Russischen Amerika, p. 314, in Acta Societatis Scientiarum Fennicae, Tomus IV, Helsingforsiae, 1856).}
   In modern times, this is in some cases considered as the end of the suit, and the young man may come and take his bride; but in most cases, even at present, the young man only acquires the right to come and press his suit himself. Still more numerous are cases in which the young man himself comes, and does not ask the mediation of his relatives. He also begins with bringing a load of fuel from the woods. He tries to make his load as large as possible, in order to show his physical strength and his power of endurance. {The gathering of fuel is the essential part of the marriage suit among all the tribes of Bering Sea. Lisiansky (Voyage around the World, II, p. 79) says that among the inhabitants of Kadyak the marriage-rite is as follows: the bridegroom passes the night with the bride; in the morning he must arise very early and bring fuel from the woods. This is considered the more important, as in many points of the island it is difficult to get fuel because the country is quite treeless.} Then begins his trial, which lasts one summer, sometimes two or even three summers. All this time the suitor leads a very hard life. He rises first in the morning, and retires last at night. Often he is not even given a place in the sleeping-room, but stays in the outer tent or in the open air. Most of his time is spent with the herd. He carries burdens, hauls heavily-loaded sledges, mends and repairs broken utensils. He has to please the girl's father, her elder brothers, and other male members of the family. If one of the old people reproaches him and calls him names, he has to bear it patiently, and is even expected to agree. When the old people are ill-tempered, -- as many Chukchee are, -- they may decline food and shelter to the poor suitor. Then he has to endure the pangs of hunger and cold while performing his work. If the girl likes him, she will try to give him some meat; or he may steal some food and devour it in haste, lest somebody should see it and report him to the father. Even then, after two or three months of continual toil, he may be driven away without any apparent reason. "This is no cause of resentment," I was told by the Chukchee, "but only a weakling consents to go. A good strong man remains and works on without food, without place in the sleeping-room, and even without hope." To desist, and return home without a bride, is considered a humiliation for a young man. His father will say, "So you are really bad. If you were good, you would not be sent away thus."
   After the first few months the father of the bride usually somewhat relents, and the conditions of life of the suitor become less severe. From that time on, it is not thought becoming to send him away without serious reason. The suitor also begins to insist on his matrimonial rights. Often he acquires them after several months of struggle. Of course, this depends largely upon the woman herself. Some fathers, however, keep guard over their daughters. For instance, in the night-time, after the suitor is admitted to sleep in the inner room, the father bids the girl lie down in the corner, and takes his place by her side, so that she is inaccessible to the suitor. I was also told of cases where the suitor, in his passion, tries to take the bride 'by force from the side of her father; or where he attempts to force her after all the people are fast asleep. This, however, is not considered a serious offence.
   As soon as the bridegroom becomes the actual husband, his thoughts naturally turn back to his own home and herd, and he plans to take his wife home. For this reason the girl's father delays the marriage as long as possible, especially when he is rather short of herdsmen and the help of the bridegroom is of much value to him. In some tales, "the bridegroom who came from afar," usually after having overcome all the obstacles put in his way, stays for a long time with his wife's family; and only after several years, when the couple have children, does he begin to think about returning to his own country. At this time his father-in-law usually gives him a part of his herd, and assists in taking him back to his own country. Even now, the Chukchee consider it proper for the young husband to stay with his father-in-law two or three years, "as long as his joy in his wife is still fresh." The inconsiderate young man stays with his father-in-law half a year, and then leaves him. He will stay longer only if the father-in-law has a large herd and there is any likelihood of his succeeding to part of it.
   When the son-in-law takes his wife home without quarrelling with her father, he is usually given some reindeer, the number of which depends partly upon the quality of work the young man has done while serving for his bride. The better his service, the larger the reward he receives from his father-in-law. The woman also will take a few reindeer, which from her childhood on were marked for her with her own private ear-mark. I was told that a rich reindeer-breeder sometimes gives to his son-in-law the "freedom of one day;" i. е., during this one day the young man may catch reindeer from the herd and put his mark on their ears. All these become his property.
   When a rich man wants to marry a girl of a poor family, the time of service is much shortened, and even dwindles down to nothing. Especially a second wife is rarely acquired through service in her family; for the man who has a wife and children, and who is often of middle age, will find it difficult to leave his own herd and home, and undertake service for a second wife, -- a custom suited only to young suitors. If he is rich, he arranges the marriage with the girl's father in an easier way. According to Chukchee ideas, however, it is improper to pay for a bride "as if she were a reindeer." The Chukchee always criticise the Tungus and Yakut, who ask and receive pay for their brides in reindeer, skins, and money. Rich reindeer-breeders arrange the terms of a marriage with the girl's father in a more decent form. The suitor gives to the girl's father a. few reindeer, but he does not call them pay for the bride, but a "joyful gift," meaning the joy it gives him to marry the young girl; or more frequently he invites the poor family of his new wife to come to his camp and to live there on his own herd. If they do not want to live in his camp, because of the possibility of quarrels with the first wife, they may stay close by, and from time to time receive from him presents of live or slaughtered reindeer. Still I know of rich men of middle age who had families, and who served for several months in the families of young girls whom they wanted to marry, undergoing all the usual hardships of the bridegroom's life.
   Adopted Sons-in-Law. -- Much easier than serving a term for a bride in order to take her from her family, is being received into her family as an adopted son-in-law. Such a son-in-law is called by the Chukchee va'ta i'tilm ("continuous dweller"). I have already spoken of the poor young men of Reindeer or Maritime extraction who come to the rich reindeer-breeders and serve them as assisting herdsmen. The larger part of them marry into the family of the master and become adopted sons-in-law. Some present themselves as suitors from the very beginning. Others, who have not yet decided to sacrifice their freedom, begin as herdsmen, and try to become acquainted with the family and its life before occupying the position of suitors. {The similar practice of adopting a bridegroom into the bride's family exists also among the American Eskimo. Nelson (p. 291) says, "A young boy may sometimes choose a family containing a girl, in which he would like to live. In this case, he goes to the people whom he had adopted, and transfers the duty of every kind to his adopted father."}
   As stated before, the suitor must work very hard, and undergo all kinds of privations; and, naturally enough, the young men want to look more carefully into the quality of the possible reward. Much depends also on the future prospects of the girl in question. Some masters have a daughter to dispose of; others, only a niece, or a poor kinswoman living in their family in the position of a female servant. Marriage with such a girl does not promise very bright results.
   Be this as it may, the time of trial of the candidate for a son-in-law is considerably shorter than the serving-time of an, independent suitor. It changes also in accordance with the individual conditions of the adopting family. If the family has several grown-up daughters and at the same time is short of male hands, the poor suitor may be then and there adopted and given matrimonial rights over the girl. Still, after that he has to work hard and be correct and successful in everything, at least for the first two or three years. The wife is given to him in order to make his attachment stronger, but the family does not take on themselves any obligations toward him. Even after his wife has borne him a child, if he begins to give occasion for displeasure, he may be sent away without much ado; {Compare p. 556.} or, after a whole year spent in the family, he may suddenly feel displeased himself, and go away, leaving behind him his wife and even the child. Only after a stay of several years, when his work has left its mark on the common herd, and perhaps he has some reindeer marked with his own ear-mark, does his position become more stable, and then he receives a voice in the family affairs.
   The tales describe with much care and detail the position of the adopted son-in-law. For instance, in the tale already quoted, {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 251; see also p. 581 of this volume.} the young new-comer, adopted as a husband by the bride vanquished in a foot-race, on the next morning goes to the herd and cares for it all by himself. The young wife, who cared for it before that time, may stay at home. The young man draws his father-in-law to the herd on a small sledge, which he drags along over the mossy ground; but the old man is too light for him, so he cuts off the stump of a tree with many thick roots, and fastens it to the sledge to make it heavier. The next year another man of the neighboring camp, who offended the girl and scratched her face with the point of his knife, {Compare p. 573.} arranges a foot-race. In that foot-race the young husband invites the offender to a wrestling-match, throws him down to the ground, and then with his knife cuts his eyelids, nostrils, lips, and ears into thin strips. Then he goes off to sea and provides for the family a plentiful supply of sea-meat and blubber. One whole carcass of a big walrus he brings on his back. During the skinning, the father says, "Oh! my daughter is lucky indeed: she has refused so many suitors, and has now found the best of all."
   The Ravishing of Women. -- The ravishing of women was frequent in older, more warlike times. In the tales, however, the ravishing is almost always performed by men of other tribes, by Ta'n.ñit, {Compare p. 18.} by spirits, also by an eagle, a whale, a raven, etc.
   One of the tales, that about Ele'ndi and his sons, gives a very characteristic description of the ravishing of women.
   "(There were) five brothers and two sisters. When the girls were taking water, their ear-ornaments jingled, also the numerous bracelets of metal on their arms from the wrist to the elbow. They lingered, taking water, and began to laugh among themselves. Their braided hair hung down on both sides. Two young men approached stealthily along the river-bank. They caught them both: each man caught one girl. 'Go with us!' they exclaimed. The girls refused. The ravishers brandished their spears over the girls' heads. Then they were afraid and followed them. One of the Ta'n.ñin ravishers said, 'We will take this road; but mind you do not try to escape!' The girls could not walk, because, being of a rich family, they were not accustomed to go afoot. They sat down on the ground, and the men with them.
   "Every one is asleep. The sisters, however, can neither sleep nor walk. Their feet are sore; they yearn for their home. The men. sleep on. Not far ahead, there is visible, under a cliff, a large snow-drift, old and hard, hardened by summer wind. One sister says to the other, 'Let us flee to that snow, and let us try to burrow in it. They can go home by themselves; otherwise they will kill us; we are unable to walk any longer.'
   "The older sister took the knife from one of the sleeping men. They went to the snow, cut it through with the knife, and dug the ground under it, making a hole like a fox's burrow. The elder sister made the younger go in, then covered her with earth and snow, and effaced all traces of her work, as if the snow were quite intact. While working thus, she said, T will go with them. You at least, shall return home. While they are here, you must remain quietly in hiding; but when the sun is quite high, and we go away, all three of us, then you may come out and return home. The younger of the brothers wants very strongly to have me for his wife. Let him take me, but you go home.' She went back to the men, put the knife in its old place; then, lying down, she simulated sleep. When the spring sun began to descend, one of the men awoke, then another. 'Oh, dear! where is the other girl? She has fled, and we did not notice it.' The other girl continues to feign sleep. They try to wake her, but still she sleeps. At last she awakens too. 'Where is the other? Ah! but she was lying here close by! What have you done with her? You have slept side by side!' -- 'Oh, but you are men! Why have you not had a look for her? I was so tired, I could not even walk. But why have you slept so soundly?' The men were silent. Then one said, 'Well, let her go where she likes. We will take this one. She is at least in our hands.' -- 'Not yet,' says the other brother. 'Let us look in yonder snow.' The girl's heart trembled. 'Oh!' she said to herself, 'they will kill her.' -- 'Let us go and look at that snow!' They approached the snow. In the mean time the warm wind had caused the snow to thaw. Deep holes are seen in the snow-drift. 'What holes are these?' says one. He thrusts his spear through the snow, -- one, two, three times, -- almost wounding the girl. She is there, but wriggles like a fish, and escapes being wounded. He thrusts again; then at last he wounds her upon the buttocks. She bites her lip and almost burrows into the ground, like a wounded female fox. Her companion sits near by and weeps noiselessly. 'Ah, ah! why are you weeping?' -- 'I do not know.' -- 'Nay, she must be near by. Why is this one weeping?' -- 'You lie,' the girl says, 'unless you have put her there yourself. With what could we have made a hole like this in the snow? With our nails? Have you seen any knives in our hands?' -- 'Then why are you weeping thus?' -- 'Nay, I feel much sorrow in going to your people. Therefore I am weeping. To be among you, a speechless stranger, is very hard for me. I see the men of your people for the first time only. And also yesterday I could hardly walk for fatigue, but you drove me on. At the memory of that I am weeping. And, furthermore, I hoped at least to be with my sister, and to look on the face of my companion. Now I am quite alone. At the thought of that I am weeping.' The other girl was listening from her place of refuge. The men spoke among themselves. 'It is perhaps true. She is not here. We have thrust our spears through all this snow. Probably she has fled home. Let us go! It is useless to stay here any longer.' They went away and left the fugitive. The other one says, 'Now I will not walk in front, I will walk comfortably behind you.'
   "When the sun was setting, the one concealed could not wait any longer. She said, 'They have probably gone.' She crept out of the snow and went home. Two nights she had slept in the open, lame and broken, all covered with blood. When she reached home, the youngest of the brothers was not there. He was running about in the neighborhood, looking for the girls. The other brothers began to kiss her. Where is your sister?' She says nothing, nor does she show her wound. The youngest brother came home. He caught her in his arms, hugged her many times, and could not have enough. 'Where is your companion?' Then she told him, 'They have ravished her.' The older sister, on parting, told the younger one, 'He who loves me most of all will follow me.' The youngest brother cannot sleep. 'Where is my other sister?' The wounded girl says to herself, 'About the wound I will tell him to-morrow. I do not want to deprive him of his quiet just now. Let him have some sleep just this one night.'
   "The youngest brother is strong and swift of foot. In the morning she said to him, 'I am ashamed to tell it, but I cannot walk.' -- 'Why are you ashamed? Have I given you any reason to be afraid of me? Or do you say to yourself, "If I tell him, he will not listen to me"? Why are you ashamed?' Then she showed him the wound, the hole in her clothes. 'See that!' says the girl. The young man gasped. 'Oh! why have they wounded a woman? If they had wounded a man, it would be easier to bear. It is shameful to wound women.' Then he says to his companions, 'Now let us go and follow their road.' The others said, 'Not yet. We are not ready!' -- 'Oh! let us go! I cannot wait. It is too bad. Since seeing my sister's wound, I cannot stay here. I am a man. Then let me go.' The others said, 'We will sleep here this one night.' The youngest brother cannot sleep. He walks to and fro. Early in the morning he says to his brothers, 'Come, let us make haste. I call you to a war with the alien people. Great anger came into my heart. With your help I shall be strong.'"
   Then follows a description of a raid of the five brothers on the camp of the ravishers. They kill every one, take the herd and their sister, and return to their home. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 339.}
   As mentioned before, this tale describes the ravishing of Chukchee girls by men of an alien tribe. Besides this, according to the tradition, the ravishing of women was practised also within the Chukchee tribe, and not longer ago than forty or fifty years. There exists a special term for the ravishing of women, ñaungintewe'erkin ("thou ravishest a woman").
   In the olden times, as I was told, a company of young men would seize a young girl in the open, bind her hands and feet, and carry her to the house of one who wanted to have her for a wife. Not only the men of alien families, but even the relatives and the cousins, acted so, after having been refused by the father of the girl. The assault and the ravishing, however, were not considered as a reason for implacable hatred and feuds. The parents would come afterward and ask for ransom, which was paid, not in reindeer, but one woman for another.
   If the parents gave pursuit on the fresh track, the ravisher would make haste, first of all, to perform the marriage ritual with the ravished girl, anointing her, if not with the blood of sacrifice, at least with some soot and coal-powder from the family hearth. At the same time he would bid one of the women of his family get ready to go away as ransom. In this way, bloodshed might have been avoided, even after the meeting of both hostile parties.
   Even at present a case of ravishment may happen now and then. Thus, I was told that on the western Kolyma tundra one E'ttihin, a rich reindeer-breeder and a "chief of the clan" chosen by the Russians, when desiring to have a second wife, ravished her by force from the camp of her father, Ki'milhin. In doing this, the ravisher and his two brothers gave the old man a sound thrashing; and, since the girl scratched like a cat, they swaddled her in a tent-cover and firmly tied it with rope. I was in the camp of E'ttihin some five years after the incident, when everything was mended and smoothed over. The ravished beauty already had two children, and lived by herself with the other herd of her husband, and the offended father lived with her. E'ttihin even tried to deny the circumstances of his second marriage; and nobody wanted to contradict him, at least in his presence.
   Marriage by Flight -- More frequent than the ravishing of women, in modern times, is marriage by flight.
   I should mention that the element of constraint on the part of the parents as to the choice of the bridegroom exists among the Chukchee, as almost everywhere. It even happens, and is in accord with the national character, that the bride prefers to take her own life rather than be married against her will. At the same time there are cases of love-marriages contrary to the will of the parents.
   Those cases of which I know, however, happened in weak, disintegrated families. A strong family would resent an outrage like this, and strive to take the woman back, unless paid ransom in the same specie. Thus to my knowledge, in the country on the Dry Anui River, one girl left her camp and family, and fled to a travelling-camp of one of the Maritime traders. The man was already in middle life and had two other wives; but he was strong, healthy, and daring, the actual type of a travelling Chukchee adventurer. The girl had no father, only a brother (though full-grown, somewhat younger than herself) and an aunt. The seducer went away in such haste, that фе brother, even if he intended to take up the quarrel, could not have done anything.
   Another case happened almost in my own presence. I was on my way from the Russian villages on the Lower Kolyma into the heart of the tundra, together with some Chukchee fellow-travellers. They had made a visit to the Russian settlements for trading-purposes, and were now returning to their camps. Among them was one Ñĭro'n, a young man of violent and disorderly temper. His name has been mentioned before. {Compare p. 45.} Instead of trading, he lost everything in card-playing, among other things some fawn-skins sent with him for sale by his neighbors in camp. Even one of his reindeer went the same way, and now he drove a single reindeer. He was a good walker, however, and during most of the time ran in front of our train as fleet and active as any reindeer-buck. One evening, when we were approaching his camp, we were told that the sister of Ñĭro'n, who usually staid at home, had left the house and gone to one Me'wet, a man with whom Ñĭro'n had had a quarrel. The young woman had already been twice divorced, and the quarrel between her brother and Me'wet, as far as I know, was on her account. Receiving this information, Ñĭro'n became so angered that he took his spear and a long girdle-knife and started that very night for the camp of Me'wet. His sledge and reindeer he left behind, and went on afoot, eager for vengeance. Nothing very terrible, however, happened. Ñĭro'n was quite poor, and Me'wet had a good-sized herd; and the next year, when I met Ñĭro'n again in a Russian village on the Kolyma, he was gambling as usual, and part of the stake were the fawn-skin& sent for sale by Me'wet, his new brother-in-law.
   Mixed Marriages. -- The Reindeer Chukchee, at least at the present time, are fond of marrying women of other tribes. "We want to know their taste," the aforementioned E'ttihin told me rather cynically; "we are connoisseurs." On the Koryak frontier, both Reindeer tribes -- the Chukchee and the Koryak -- easily mix together in marriage; the more so, as life and language are very much alike. Therefore some groups of families are of quite mixed blood, and cannot even tell to what tribe they really belong. The distinction is the more difficult, as the Reindeer Chukchee and the Reindeer Koryak call themselves in a similar way Čau'ču, and call each other Ta'n.ñitan. {Compare p. II.} Mixed marriages between the Chukchee and Reindeer Chuvantzy also take place freely. Mixed marriages between the Reindeer Chukchee and the Maritime Chukchee and Eskimo, as stated before, happen quite frequently. I know a couple of dozen cases of marriage between the Chukchee and the Tungus or Lamut. This comes about in two ways. According to the first method, a rich Chukchee marries a young Tungus girl, paying her price in live reindeer, according to Tungus custom. The newly-married couple, for the most part, adopt the dress and the mode of life of the Chukchee, which are very different from Tungus life. Only a few of these Tungus women hold to their former customs, and then the life of the family presents a double character. In the winter-time they live in a Chukchee "genuine house," drive reindeer in Chukchee harness, etc. In summer they live in a Tungus tent, ride Tungus reindeer, hunt wild reindeer and mountain-sheep. With a Tungus wife comes her family, hungry and careless, often the whole clan; and they expect to receive help from their new kinsman. So even a very rich Chukchee, after a few years of Tungus marriage, usually becomes poorer, and then quite poor. To refuse a Tungus kinsfolk a reindeer for slaughter is almost impossible, because the people of that tribe often stay on the verge of starvation, and the Chukchee brother-in-law has to relieve them, even almost against his will.
   In the second category of such mixed marriages are the Tungus men who marry Chukchee women. A young Tungus man who is tired of the hungry life of a polar hunter may come to a Chukchee camp and be admitted, at first as an assistant herdsman, then as an adopted son-in-law. A well-to-do Chukchee family, when short of male workers, will not ask about the tribe of the new-comer, but desires only watchfulness and activity in taking care of the herd. I know a Tungus family on the Dry Anui River that consists of five full-grown brothers. All of them married into a Chukchee family; and now each has a large herd, received with the wife. Of course, such Tungus adopted by the Chukchee lead the usual Chukchee life, and their children rarely speak their father's language. Among all tribes the household life is regulated mostly by a woman; and a Chukchee woman is quite unable to abandon her national dress and her mode of living, and adopt those of alien origin. Therefore I know of hardly a single case where a Chukchee woman has married into a Tungus family in order to live the Tungus life. What has been said concerning the Tungus may also be said of Chukchee marriages with the Yukaghir of the West Kolyma tundra, who are still poorer than the Tungus, and who are only too glad to be adopted into a Chukchee reindeer-breeding family.
   As to marriages between the Chukchee and Russian Creoles or Russianized natives, I know of about twenty cases, half of which belong to the past, and half to the present.
   I visited, one after another, all the mixed Chukchee-Russian couples in various parts of the Chukchee territory; and in almost all cases I found that Russian or Russianized women were married to Chukchee men. All these women belonged to very poor families, and marriage with a reindeer-breeder was the only means of warding off severe hunger, at least for the time being. Some of these women were paid for with twenty or thirty slaughtered reindeer, others with only two or three. Usually the families to which they had belonged lived on the frontier of the Chukchee territory, and were in constant intercourse with the people of that tribe. It should not be forgotten that the easy ways of the Russian Creoles of the Kolyma in love affairs make Russian girls quite accessible to the young Chukchee men through some small present, or even without it.
   Still, the difference between the life of Russian fishermen living in warm block-houses within the forest border, and that of the Chukchee reindeer-breeders living on the treeless tundra in cold and open tents, is very great. So in the winter-time the Russian women, clad in the shaggy clothes of the Chukchee woman's dress, are helpless enough to look upon; nor are they very good workers and housewives, in the Chukchee sense of the word ; not one of them is capable of beating the hoary cover of the sleeping-room with sufficient force and perseverance. The work of a Russian woman in the Kolyma country is incomparably easier than that of the wife of a Chukchee.
   Russian relatives and neighbors make fun of women given to savages, because such marriages are considered humiliating. Perhaps to keep off jeers, all these women enter with great energy upon their new life, and talk with some disdain of their former life on the river. I remember one whom I visited in mid-winter. It was bitter cold; and since she had been staying in the open since early morning, and was clad in the strange loose combination-suit of Chukchee cut, with half-bare neck and shoulders, her face was blue, and her fingers stiff, and she was able to keep some warmth in her body only by constant movement and work. Still she praised that life. "There on the river the people are hungry," she explained, "but our food walks around us on its four legs." Nevertheless these women have confessed that the first months of their life on the tundra were very hard. "One knows neither the language nor the ways of life. One feels a yearning to go back to the river, and weeps all the time. Then comes an old 'knowing woman' and performs an incantation, which takes away the sorrow and makes one more adapted to the new life."
   The Russian women on the river said about this, that the Chukchee witches, with their incantations, take out of the woman the Russian soul and put in its place a Chukchee soul. Therefore these women ever afterwards love life in the open. I must mention that I know of hardly one case where a woman like that would return from the savage tundra to the civilized "river." Indeed, one of the women told me that after the death of her first Chukchee husband, she came back to her native village, having with her a small son of three years. "But we could not live there for too long a time," she said, on account of the stifled air of the block-house. We got violent headaches. Food was scarce, only dried fish; but the boy was not accustomed to it, and asked for reindeer-meat. At last, after staying three months in the village, I married another Chukchee, and went with him to the tundra again."
   Most of the marriages between the Chukchee and the Russians remain without issue. To understand that properly, one should remember (1) that the Russian and Russianized women of the Lower Kolyma, especially the latter, are of but slight fertility; (2) that even in the veins of the so-called Russian, blood really Russian and Caucasian is very scarce. The sterility of these mixed marriages has direct connection with the exhaustion of vital force among the Russianized natives of the whole Kolyma region.
   I should mention also that a Russian wife and the hungry family of her father are a continual drain on the herd of her Chukchee husband, just as much as in the case of the Tungus. I mentioned above that the Reindeer Chukchee, notwithstanding all their harshness, have a kind of rough compassion for the people of alien tribes who are tormented by hunger under their eyes. {Compare p. 47.} A Chukchee reindeer-breeder, when he feels that such hungry neighbors are too much for him, changes his place of abode, and goes a score of miles farther off. Thus of late years the Chukchee camps have gradually removed to a distance of some fifty miles from the nearest Russian village, in order to limit the coming of hungry river-men with their still more hungry dogs. But it is very hard to go away from one's own father-in-law. This causes the Chukchee husbands of Russian wives gradually to descend from abundance to poverty.
   There are one or two cases of Russian boys who have grown up in the tundra and married among the Chukchee. They live the Chukchee life, do not know anything about Russian ways, and do not even speak the Russian language. One or two Chukchee girls have grown up on the river, married there, and become Russianized.
   I should also mention that many Russianized families of the Lower Kolyma form actual combinations of group-marriages with Chukchee families; or, properly speaking, the Chukchee consider it as a group-marriage, and the Russians rather as a kind of prostitution. The Chukchee set great value on these relations, because they consider the Russians, notwithstanding all their hunger and need, as belonging to a higher civilization; and the Russians strive to get out of these relatives some reindeer-meat free of cost, also some cheap reindeer-skins and costly peltries of the tundra. So, in several Russian families, even of clerks, merchants, and clergymen, there are children reputed to be of Chukchee blood. Thus the two eldest children of the church-beadle (дьячекъ) of Nishne-Kolymsk, a son and a daughter, are called by the neighbors "Chukchee offspring." I asked the mother about the origin of this name. "Of course, they are Chukchee," answered the worthy matron, "paid for with many reindeer. In those years I fed the whole hungry neighborhood." And this was true, because on the Lower Kolyma, in times of hunger, every piece of food is divided among all.
   In contrast to all this, I do not know of any case of marriage between the Chukchee and the Yakut. The Yakut, no less than the Russians, would consider such a marriage as humiliating; but the Yakut are much stronger than the Russians psychically and economically, nor do they suffer so much from hunger as the Russian Creoles or the Tungus. Moreover, they have horses of their own, horned cattle, and even reindeer, and Chukchee reindeer are not so attractive to them.
   The Marriage-Rite. -- The most important part of the marriage-rite of the Reindeer Chukchee is the anointment of the bride and groom with the blood of the sacrificial animal. This occurs either at the house of the groom, or, if the latter is to become an adopted son-in-law, at the house of the bride. The ceremony is relatively simple: the groom goes to his father-in-law to fetch his bride, and brings her to his settlement. The bride, who drives her own reindeer, is at times accompanied by her nearest' relatives.
   The party arrives at the settlement of the groom, where the reindeer are unharnessed. The small pole-sledge on which the poles of the tent are carried is put behind the tent, on the spot where sacrifices are usually made; while the travelling-sledges of the bride and groom stand on both sides at some distance. Then the sacrificial reindeer is killed for the anointment. Other sacrifices, bloody and bloodless, are made to the dawn and the zenith. Fire-drills and charm-strings are placed on the sledges. Then the couple is anointed with the blood of the reindeer, one or two members of the groom's family generally also undergoing the ceremony, in order that the bride may not feel lonesome. Then the groom and the bride paint on their faces the family mark of the groom. Thus the woman renounces the sacrificial anointment of her family,-as well as her hearth and kin, and binds herself to another hearth and another kin. Further, the woman anoints the sledges with blood, and "feeds" the holy objects of the household with reindeer-marrow. She approaches the hearth, sprinkles it with sacrificial blood, takes a pinch of ashes and rubs it between her palms. Then she addresses the hearth, saying, "Nime'leu qatva'rkin!" ("Be well!")
   In a few days, sometimes in two or three weeks, a second marriage-rite takes place (alaranto'urgin, "a journey out of loneliness").
   The married couple, accompanied by a few relatives, start out to visit the camp of the bride's father. "We think," remarked a Chukchee to me," that she may get homesick for her old hearth; let her visit it, and see it again."' The reindeer which the bride used on her first journey to the groom's house are not used on this second journey. The bride drives the reindeer of her husband, and takes with her a number of driving-reindeer as a present to her parents. This gift is called ri'nkur; but the Chukchee insist that it is a present, and not a ransom, for it is paid after the conclusion of the marriage ceremony. The number of reindeer to be presented is not fixed. If the groom's family is poor, he gives only one team, that is, two reindeer; but it is customary to present two, and even three teams. Among these reindeer may be calves; but they must be tame, fit for harness, in a word, "lustful calves" (gi'Li-qäi'ut), -- that is, lustful for urine. The domestication of reindeer among the Chukchee is notoriously based on the reindeer's fondness for urine. {Compare p. 85.} Besides reindeer, the bride and groom take with them meat-puddings, a favorite delicacy of the Chukchee. {Compare p. 199.} The number of these puddings varies generally according to the number of the reindeer, although two and three times that number are sometimes taken. According to Chukchee ideas of the family and family-group, the groom has to be assisted by his nearest kinsnien; but this assistance is left to their individual free-will. Generally, however, one or two of the blood relatives in the male line (kirñe'-tu'mgit, "male-buck companions"), or of relatives by marriage (taka'lhit, "husbands of wife-sisters" {Compare p. 540.}). contribute each a reindeer or two. To receive assistance from more than two men is not customary. The other reindeer are given by the groom himself. With the reindeer, the relatives send an equal number of puddings, and sometimes two and three times the number. These puddings have a symbolic significance. If a relative, for instance, intends to contribute a reindeer or two, but at the time is not able to do it, he sends only the puddings, thereby assuming the obligation to furnish the reindeer to the bride's father. Thus, instead of reindeer, puddings alone are sometimes sent to the bride's home. Along with the puddings, other delicacies of the Chukchee bill of fare are brought down: such as marrow, extracted from the tubular bones of the leg, and frozen, of which up to ten pounds is sometimes brought; reindeer-brains, also frozen; tongues; fat morsels of meat. On their arrival at the bride's camp, the bride and groom are again anointed, the bride's family-mark is painted on their faces, and the bride makes a sacrifice to the hearth of her home. A feast follows, at which all the provisions brought for the occasion are consumed. On the following day the couple return home, where the rite of anointment is once more repeated, and the husband's family mark is painted on their faces. Having thus taken leave of her family hearth and its marks of anointing, the bride finally links herself to her new hearth, and becomes a member of a new family.
   Marriage-Ruptures. -- Notwithstanding the accompanying sacrifice, Chukchee marriages are not at all permanent. On the contrary, the anointment with blood, and other rites, are obviously intended to strengthen marriage-ties, but fail to attain that end. These rites foreshadow the religious sanction of marriage, which in other cultures develops so powerfully. Among the Chukchee the marriage-tie is broken very easily, and for a variety of reasons, advanced by either the wife's or the husband's family. If the father or mother of the groom is not satisfied with the bride, they have the right to send her back to her home. Even in cases where the groom has worked for his bride during several months, his parents send the bride back if they do not care for her. I knew a family on the Dry Anui River, in which the eldest son had changed wives ten times in the course of three years. For one of them he had served three months, and for another four. Others came to him from friendly families attracted by the large herd of the groom's father. In such cases, however, the rupture always occurred shortly after marriage. If a couple has lived together for a year or a year and a half, it is no longer regarded as proper for the groom's family to send the bride back.
   E. Westermarck, quoting from W. Hooper, mentions that among the Chukchee (Tuski), repudiated wives, with their children, are to a certain extent supported by their former husbands. {E. Westermarck, The History of Human Marriage (London, 1901), p. 19.} W. Hooper, however, speaks about those wives who have been put aside for some new favorite, and mentions that it was considered a duty of the man to afford a home and sustenance for such wives, as well as for the children by them. {W. H. Hooper, Ten Months among the Tents of the Tuski, p. 100.} In such cases the marriage is not dissolved. Nevertheless I would call even this statement somewhat exaggerated. Of course, a Chukchee husband who has more than one wife may be inclined to prefer the younger one, and to neglect the older one. I knew of cases where neglect like this gave rise to jealousy and strife between the wives. On the other hand, several husbands who were in a similar position mentioned that they considered themselves obliged to visit their wives in turn, one after the other. "Otherwise there would be trouble," they said. And really the national character of the Chukchee is such, that the complete neglect of a wife, especially if she has children, would give occasion for trouble and strife.
   At the same time W. Hooper acknowledges that "repudiation" is quite another thing than such neglect. Directly after the passage quoted above he says, "But repudiation is perfectly recognized, and in instances of misconduct, and sometimes of dislike, put in force without scruple or censure. In these cases the rejected wife returns to her father's or brother's lodge, and, unless of a very bad character, does not generally wait long for another husband; very often returning to her original spouse, to be perhaps again discarded." All this is quite correct.
   In the majority of cases, however, the initiative in breaking up the marriage comes from the bride's family, which retains its hold on the woman for five or six years, even if the latter has meanwhile borne two children. In case of friction between the two families, that of the bride takes the woman back, by force if necessary. Of course, it is not the old fathers who most ardently support that custom, but the elder brothers, especially if they are numerous. Occasionally, when the woman loves her husband and refuses to leave him, she is bound and carried away by force. If she has nurslings, they are taken with the mother, while the older children are left with the father. {Easy divorce exists also among the American Eskimo. Murdoch (Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 418) says, "Easy and unceremonial divorce appears to be the usual custom among Eskimo generally. The same appears to have been the case in Greenland. Cranz says, 'Such quarrels and separations only happen between the people in their young age. The older they grow, the more they love each other.'" In a similar way Lucien M. Turner (Hudson Bay Eskimo, p. 189) says of the Hudson Bay Eskimo, "A man seldom keeps a wife for a number of years. ... In rare instances, where there is compatibility of temper, the pair remain together for life." In the same way the Chukchee marriage is easily dissolved in its first period, but grows in force with the course of time. Franz Boas (Central Eskimo, p. 579) mentions also that among the Central Eskimo divorce may be easily commanded by the wife's mother.}
   I have seen a considerable number of women who were thus carried off from their husbands by elder brothers. One I met in the camp of the Chukchee Ata'to on the Dry Anui River. She had lived for four years with her husband, a well-to-do, gentle, but rather sickly young man. Ata'to, on the contrary, was a spendthrift and gambler. The previous winter, having lost all his reindeer gambling, he had appealed to his brother-in-law for assistance. The latter helped him for a while; but when Ata'to made a practice of slaughtering without ceremony the reindeer of his brother-in-law, and of paying his card debts with their carcasses, the wronged man protested. Then Ata'to went to his sister's house and carried her off to his camp.
   The deserted husband, after some hesitation, found his solitude unbearable, and followed his wife to Ata'to's camp. When I visited the latter, I learned that the unfortunate husband had been living there for over four weeks, doing all that was in his power to move Ata'to's heart. The woman seemed willing to go back to her husband, but Ata'to would not change his mind. "Will you promise not to refuse me your reindeer?" he would ask; and when the answer was, "That is impossible, you would eat up my herd and myself with it," he declared, "If such is the case, she shall go to a rich reindeer-owner." As far as I know, the latter decision was carried out, the first husband not being able to prevent it.
   In 1897, when engaged in preparing a census of the Chukchee in the Kolyma district, I had occasion to ascertain that about one-third of all the women had had one or several divorces. Of the children born during these marriages, some were living in the husbands' families, and some in those of the wives. Such children, left without a proper home, are regarded as belonging to the entire family, and are much cared for by all its members. The same applies to natural children borne by unmarried women.
   Polygyny. -- The majority of the Chukchee are monogamists; in some localities, however, one-third and more, of all the marriages, are polygynous.
   The Reindeer Chukchee generally ascribe polygyny to economic considerations. "If I possess one herd, I need but one house and one wife to look after it; if, however, I own two herds, I must have two separate households and a woman for each of them." There is some truth in this assertion. Many rich reindeer-breeders who have two or more herds do keep a separate wife with each herd. Etti'hin, for example, to whom I have referred before, had two herds, and a wife attending to each. Ei'heli, on the Oloi River, who has also been mentioned before, was the owner of four herds, with as many wives looking after them. Omrêlqo't, also on the Oloi River, had three herds and three wives. Many other reindeer-owners, however, have only one wife, their surplus herds being kept by sons, brothers-in-law, brothers, and other relatives. On the other hand, many of those who have but one herd have at the same time two and more wives, all living in the same camp. It appeared from the census figures that the number of men having two and more wives reached about fifteen per cent of the total number of married men, and in some localities even twenty-five per cent. At the same time, the number of rich breeders with two and more herds scarcely reaches three per cent.
   Only a very small number of men have more than two wives. Some striking exceptions occur, however. Thus Ei'heli, referred to above, had four living wives, besides four who were dead, and who left him children. He had, moreover, one vagrant wife, the old Ča'kihêt, who would live in one of his camps part of the time, and would then leave for strange camps sometimes a hundred miles away. Ei'heli himself, and all his wives, were old, so that jealousy was out of the question. Ča'kihêt had no children, and therefore nothing to bind her to one place. At the same time, her fifty years did not prevent her from being a strong woman and an excellent worker. She was an expert at dressing skins and sewing garments, which made her a welcome guest wherever she went. Finally, her nature was such that she could not have been easily persuaded to stay at a place unless she herself cared to stay. Thus Ča'kihêt. Who had performed the marriage-rite with Ei'heli and had for many years been considered his wife, was still perfectly free to satisfy her nomadic instincts. The total number of Ei'heli's children by all his wives was over twenty, excluding those who had died.
   The Chukchee Mêwê'tirgin, on the Dry Anui River, had at one time seven wives in three different camps; later, however, he became poor, and his wives deserted him. The Chukchee Nomga'Lê, on the same river, had three wives and fourteen children, almost all of them very young. Another rather poor Chukchee, Tomganê'ntiñ, who also lived on the same river, had for a time four wives, all living in the same camp in two tents. Other men, well-to-do as well as poor, might be cited who had three and four wives at the same time.
   When a Chukchee has two wives living in one camp, he tries to give them separate tents, or at least separate sleeping-places in one tent; but I have also met bigamists who lived in one sleeping-room with both wives, and slept with them under a common cover, the husband lying between the two wives. This mode of life is described in many tales. In the tale about the "Baby," {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 212.} for instance, the hero sleeps in one sleeping-place with three wives, all being quite naked. Upon one of his arms lies the wife from the Kiče'tun village; upon the other, the wife from the Enu'rmin village; the third lies a little way off, and awaits her turn. In another tale, about the "Shaman with Warts," each wife has her own sleeping-place. During the meal, the host exclaims from the sleeping-room, "Oho! I have a visitor. Prepare another sleeping-room." Somebody is busy outside, rings with the bracelets, rattles with the necklace, knocks the poles, hurries. "Where will you sleep?" asks the host. "Decide yourself," says the visitor. "Sleep here. I will sleep in the other place." He goes out, enters the other sleeping-room. The visitor hears great laughter, frolic, the ringing of bracelets, the rattle of necklaces. He says, "They must be enjoying themselves." {Ibid., p. 225.}
   The position of the several wives is different in different families. The first wife is generally much older, and has had several children when the young wife makes her first appearance in the family. In such cases the first wife is the mistress, while the second is treated almost like a maid. The first wife sits with the husband in the warm sleeping-room, while the second works outside in the cold, prepares the food, and serves it. In one tale of my new collection there is a detailed description of how the husband and his first wife make the second wife carry the chamber-pot in and out, and wash her hands in their urine. Sometimes the aged husband takes a second young wife for the express purpose of giving a helper and maid to his wife, who is getting old and cannot get through with the housework by herself. Cases have occurred where the first wife insisted that the husband should marry a young and able-bodied woman.
   In other cases, where the husband has no children by his wife, he marries another woman in order to get progeny. The absence of children is considered so great a misfortune, that a good woman, if childless, herself insists that her husband take another wife, even as Sarah made Abraham sleep with one of her maids, and made her be delivered of the child into her (Sarah's) lap. Here again the second wife is generally considered as inferior to the first.
   W. H. Dall mentions that, even if a Chukchee's wife bears only girls, he takes another one until he obtains a boy, and no more. {W. H. Dall, Alaska and its Resources, p. 381.} I cannot confirm this, at least as a general rule for the whole Chukchee tribe. Of course, boys are much more desirable for Chukchee parents than girls. Still I met several families who had only girls. This was the case among the Reindeer Chukchee. Some of these girls acted quite like men, kept guard over the herd, carried a lasso, slaughtered reindeer, etc. Among the Maritime people a girl is less capable of replacing a young man on sea-expeditions and in hunting-pursuits. Several tales describe a Reindeer Chukchee family having only daughters, and living alone in the camp. The girls play the part of male herdsmen. Still the desire for man's help is strongly pronounced. A family of females suffers from various disasters and ill-treatment on the part of the neighboring camps; and only the appearance of a young son-in-law, adopted by the family, improves matters. Similar tales of Maritime provenience are more scarce and indefinite. In these tales, women "living separately," without males, usually obtain their subsistence by gathering roots and berries, and hunting wild reindeer on land, also by killing seals in the wintertime upon the ice-floes. Much less frequently the women are described as hunting seals or walrus in the summer-time from the canoe or from the skin boat. This last pursuit, which gives to the Martime people the larger part of their food, is least accessible of all to women. The female families that "live separately" are often described as leading a hungry life, and as eagerly watching for a husband.
   I should mention that I have met, at least among the Tungus, some widows and girls who were good shots and hunters of land-game, almost equal to men; but I had no opportunity of meeting a female hunter among the Chukchee. So, upon the whole, boys are more desirable for the Maritime families than for the Reindeer ones; and the assertion of Dall may refer more to the Maritime Chukchee. On the other hand, however, polygyny is much rarer among the Maritime Chukchee than among the Reindeer people; also cases of repudiation of wives happen less frequently, as will be described later on.
   Cases are by no means rare, however, where the husband, enamored of the second wife, becomes indifferent towards the first, and even expels her from the house. Precisely such a case is described in a very popular tale, "The Bigamist." It runs as follows: --
   "There lived a man with two wives, an old one and a young one. When he took the young wife, he abandoned the old one, did not love her nor sleep with her any longer. He beat her all the time. In great grief she went out into the desert and came to a bear's haunt. She entered. The bear mother was angry at her for entering. The woman said, 'Why don't you kill me? My husband always beats me. It is better that you kill me.'
   "The woman stays with the bears and lives with them. When spring comes, the bears let her go, with presents and incantations. She returns home, and by means of their incantations succeeds in regaining the favor of her husband, and persuades him to drive her rival from the house. The latter perishes from hunger and cold."
   I took down several versions of this tale. I was always anxious to ascertain whether jealousy existed to any extent among the Chukchee wives of a single husband. When questioned by me on that point, the women would generally answer, "We don't care, we don't think about those things;" and, more definitely, " Good and clever women don't get angry over such matters."
   Nevertheless jealousy does exist among the women. I have often known wives of one husband who lived in perfect accord with one another, but these were mostly women out of their prime. On the other hand, I have seen women quarrel and even fight over the favors of their husband. Maydell describes such cases of quarrels, fights, and even murders committed out of jealousy. {Compare Maydell, I, p. 164.}
   In one tale, a woman deserted by her husband is left with five children. She supports them with great difficulty, gathering edible roots for food. Wandering in the desert, she comes to a dwelling on the seashore. A woman sits at the entrance. The man returns from a sea-hunt, dragging a seal. The deserted wife recognizes her husband. She resolves to avenge herself, waits until the man leaves again, and then enters the house, makes friends with the woman, and perfidiously kills her while she is asleep. Then she returns to her own house. Her husband comes back, and, finding the woman dead, guesses that it is the work of his first wife. He grabs his spear, goes to the first wife. He arrives. She is not at home. She is wandering again in the desert. The children cry, "Father, father has come!" -- "Where did your mother go?" -- "Along that road. We shall follow her." -- "No, no! wait for me here." He goes, sees her in the valley of the river gathering roots. "I have found her; now I will kill her!" He cries, "I will kill you." She fled along the river. He overtook her. "Are you not my husband? Why do you want to kill me? I have little children." -- "Why did you mock me?" He aimed at her with his spear. She seized the spear, broke it to pieces. Drawing her cowl over her head, she became a she-bear. She squeezed the husband." Oh, I pray you, let go! Come home! I shall always work and bring meat." She only growled and squeezed him to death. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 259.} This tale is also very widely distributed. A variation of it among the Eskimo of the American shore is recorded by Nelson. {Nelson, p. 467, "The Red Bear."}
   Group-Marriage. -- Marriage among the Chukchee does not deal with one couple only, but extends over an entire group. The Chukchee group-marriage includes sometimes up to ten married couples. The men belonging to such a marriage-union are called "companions in wives" (ñew-tu'mgit). Each "companion" has a right to all the wives of his "companion," but takes advantage of his right comparatively seldom, namely, only when he visits for some reason the camp of one of the "companions." Then the host cedes him his place in the sleeping-room. If possible, he leaves the house for the night; goes to his herd, for instance. After such a call, the companion visited generally looks for an occasion to return the visit, in order, in his turn, to exercise his rights.
   The union, in group-marriages, is mostly formed between persons who are well acquainted (ču3-tu'mgit, "looking [on each other] companions"), especially between neighbors and relatives. Second and third cousins are almost invariably united by ties of group-marriage; brothers, however, do not enter into such unions. In ancient times this form of marriage was obviously a union between the members of a related group. In course of time, other friendly persons began to be included in the union. The rite accompanying the formation of group-marriages reflects such an origin, for it is intended to give the union the character of a tie between relatives. The persons concerned make sacrifices and anoint themselves with blood, first in one camp, and then in the other. After that they are considered as belonging to one fireside, as do the relatives in the male line. According to tradition, group-marriages with persons of high standing were much sought after by younger people. They would send their relatives as match-makers, and would even serve in a strange herd in order to enter such a union, precisely as is the custom in individual marriages.
   The older people, however, were reluctant to enter the group-union with young people, especially if the latter were single. The mixing of ages in the group-marriage is not approved of. If a married man, on the other hand, has no children, but desires to have some, he is anxious to make a union with a strong single man. The aversion to including bachelors in the marriage-group is primarily based on the absence of reciprocity. The bachelor gains from entering the union, but gives nothing in return.
   The inmates of one and the same camp are seldom willing to enter into a group-marriage, the reason obviously being that the reciprocal use of wives, which in group-marriage is practised very seldom, is liable to degenerate into complete promiscuity if the members of the group live too close together. However, many exceptions occur to both rules. As an illustration of group-marriage between a married couple and a bachelor, the following union, which I observed in one of the camps, may be cited. A young Chukchee, married but childless, served as a shepherd in the herd of a rich reindeer-breeder. In the marriage-union was included another shepherd, also young but single, who was a Tungus. All three lived in one tent. When the Chukchee shepherd was with the herd, the Tungus staid in the tent and slept with the woman, and vice versa.
   In another camp I saw two neighbors of very unequal ages, whose tents stood side by side, and who were united by a group-marriage. I have been told that poor people, on entering the group-union, are sometimes so friendly that they live in one tent, and even in the same sleeping-room. I had no occasion to witness such cases, but I found descriptions of similar conditions in several tales. In the tale about the son of MuLu'wgi, for instance, we are told the following: --
   "Then the son of MuLu'wgi caught a little sea-shrimp and brought it home. Then he brought some grass, made a large grass braid, and glued it to the shrimp's head. He finished, pushed it with his foot: it became a woman, very pretty, with thick braids. He said to her, 'Enter the sleeping-room.' She entered. Before night-fall the Morning Light and the Evening Light came together. They said, 'Oho! who is this?' -- 'Here we are.' -- 'Who are you? What did you come for?' -- 'We came to take away your wife.' -- 'Instead of my wife take this woman, my sister.' Evening Light said, 'It is well. This wife at least we shall carry off. Let us enter the sleeping-room, let us be married.' -- 'Do not enter the sleeping-room. Return home, take this sister of mine with you. Sleep with her at your own home.' -- 'Well, we agree!' The woman went out. They grabbed her from both sides, carried her home, Evening Light and Morning Light. On the way, Evening Light said, 'Let me lie down first!' Morning Light answered 'No, both together!' They came home. Said Morning Light, 'Let us cook the food first.' Evening Light answered, 'Let us lie down first; put the woman to sleep.' The other answered, 'Let us lie down then!' They went to sleep. Each one kissed her, each one embraced her, both together." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 229.}
   A form of group-marriage as described in this tale is really genuine polyandry. I should also mention the fact that the relations in group-marriage, after two or three years, sometimes become complicated through an exchange of wives. Each "companion" takes another's wife, lives with her for several months, and then returns her. Sometimes, however, the exchanged wives stay with their new husbands for a longer period, or even permanently.
   At the present time the unions through group-marriage {Group-marriage of a similar form exists also among the American Eskimo. Thus Nelson (p. 292) says, "It is a common custom for two men living in different villages to agree to become bond-fellows, or brothers by adoption. Having made this arrangement, whenever one of the men goes to the other's village, he is received as the bond brother's guest, and is given the use of his host's bed with his wife during his stay. When the visit is returned, the same favor is extended to the other: consequently neither family knows who is the father of the children. Men who have made this arrangement term each other kin-i-g'un; each terms the other one's wife null-u'-yuk; and the childi-en of the two families call each other kat-khun. Among people south of the Yukon, the last term is sometimes used between the children of two families, where the man has married the discarded wife of another." Lucien M. Turner (Hudson Bay Eskimo, p. 189) says also, "Exchanges of wives are frequent, either party being quite happy to be released for a time." Franz Boas (Central Eskimo, p. 579) says the same about the Central Eskimo: "A strange custom permits a man to lend his wife for a whole season, or even longer, and to exchange wives, as a sign of friendship." Murdoch (Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 413) says the same about the Point Barrow Eskimo: "A curious custom, most peculiar to these people, is the habit of exchanging their wives temporarily." This custom has been observed at Fury and Hecla Straits (Parry, Second Voyage, p. 52^)i Cumberland Gulf (Kumlien Contributions, p. 16), and in the region about Repulse Bay (Schwatka's Search, p. 197). The same custom existed among some Indian tribes of North America,-- as A. G. Morice says, "among the Denes [Athapascan]; and yet, in spite of their good qualities, the temporary exchange of wives was not deemed improper at all. It was considered rather the supreme token of friendship, an act of unsurpassed hospitality" (Annual Archaeological Report, 1905, Toronto, p. 196).} embrace practically all Chukchee families. Not to be connected with such a union, means to have no friends and good-wishers, and no protectors in case of need; for the members of a marriage-group stand nearer to one another than even relations in the male line. As pointed out above, however, these two ties often coincide.
   In some cases five or six persons enter into a group-marriage, and all enjoy equal marital rights. In other cases a man may have several companions in group-marriage who do not stand in a similar relation to one another.
   All Russian women who live in the tundra, married to Chukchee, must of course submit to group-marriage regulations. One of these women, an elderly widow, proudly declared to me, "My husband never lent me to ordinary people, but only to the most respected ones;" and she enumerated a large number of names. I know of only one family that lived in the tundra outside of group-marriage. It was the family of a Russian Creole, who had grown up in a Chukchee family, spoke the Chukchee language, and lived according to Chukchee customs. He was married to a Chukchee woman, but had no companions in group-marriage. "I have a jealous heart," he used to tell me. "It is better that I remain alone, without companions."
   At present group-marriages are often concluded without any rite. One man simply says to another, "Let us be companions in wives" (Minñewtu'm-gämik)! After this they both exercise their rights. If a good acquaintance solicits the formation of such a union, it is improper, - even in the case of refusal, to express it in plain words, but an evasive answer must be given. On the other hand, cases occur where the husband is willing, but the proposed friend is distasteful to the wife. Sometimes the husband beats his wife into submission. Frequently, however, the wife stands for her right to select friends. I was told about one woman, who, being pressed by her husband to live with a friend whom she disliked, preferred to take her own life.
   Union through group-marriage is considered equal to a blood tie. The children born in the families of a marriage-union are regarded as cousins, or even as brothers and sisters. They cannot marry each other, which is natural, for they might easily have a common father.
   The strength of a group-marriage is vividly depicted thus in the tale, The Raven and the Eagle in an Exchange Marriage: "There lived a Raven and an Eagle. The Raven had a son. The Eagle was alone with his wife. The Raven's wife went to visit the Eagle. The Eagle took her from her husband and slept with her. She bore him one son. The Raven's son also came, and remained, to live with his mother." Further, it is described how the Raven's and the Eagle's sons grew up and began to fly out to hunt. During one hunt a giant Eagle caught the Eagle's son and carried him off. Then the Raven, the first father, hearing about it, went to the Eagle. His wife-companion, the Eagle, sat in the sleeping-room, sorrowful. The Raven pecked him in the shoulder. He chided him and gave him blows. "Why did you not warn the children? Why are you sitting? Let us fly, let us pursue!" And yet it was not his son that was lost, but the son of his companion. Then follows a description of their search. The Raven finally finds and rescues the Eagle's son.
   Rupture of a group-marriage is regarded as possible, but I know of no cases where it occurred except those mentioned in accounts concerning syphilitics. Those syphilitics were subject to ostracism, and were excluded from the common hearth of even the closest relations. No wonder, then, that in those cases the ties of group-marriage were also severed.
   At present the limits of group-marriage have widened, and allow a union with an inhabitant of another district, with a chance acquaintance during temporary trading-relations, and even with an individual belonging to a different people, -- a Tungus or a Russian. The Chukchee call such trade-acquaintances inna'lêk ("friends"). Above I mentioned a case of group-marriage with a Tungus. Wherever the Chukchee and the Tungus live in one locality, numerous families of one of these peoples are united by group-marriages to those of the other. A deviation from the common regulations may be seen in the fact that the Chukchee have marital rights to the greater part of married Tungus women; while, of the Tungus, only the most skilful hunters, or those most friendly with the Chukchee, have similar rights to Chukchee women. Many Russian families stand in similar relations of group-marriage with the Chukchee; but the Chukchee are the only ones who look upon these relations as upon group-marriage. The Russians, on the other hand, are prone to see in them nothing but the loose conduct of women anxious to receive payment in slaughtered reindeer. I should add, however, that in some of the tales referring to ancient times, group-marriages with strangers are also described; namely, with the Eskimo inhabitants of the opposite American shore. The Chukchee, since ancient times, have cultivated trade-relations with those people, such relations sometimes leading to those of group-marriage. Even to-day, when the Eskimo traders from the American shore arrive at the maritime Asiatic villages of the Chukchee and Eskimo, they find temporary wives there in the houses of their friends. Similarly the Chukchee traders have their temporary wives on the American shore.
   In the tale of "The Shaman with Warts" we are told that there lived a great shaman in the village Te'pqän at the seashore. Another shaman, Kuku'lpin, lived on the continent, opposite the village Ne'ekan, on Cape Ki'imin. {Compare p. 21.} Then a description of a contest between the two shamans is given. Kuku'lpin vanquished the shaman from Te'pqän. "Says that shaman, 'Let us at least be companions in wives.' -- 'Agreed!' -- 'Where shall we go first? To you? Where is your house?' -- 'In the village Te'pqän.' -- 'How long does it take you to fly there?' -- 'About half a day.' -- 'Aha! my house is nearer; better let us go there. My two wives are at home. Let us race. The one who arrives first shall sleep with both.'" Kuku'lpin is again the winner, arriving before his rival. After supper the latter is allowed to sleep with the older wife, Kuku'lpin himself sleeping with the younger one. The visitor is dissatisfied with the arrangement, but submits after several fruitless attempts to exchange sleeping-rooms with the host. Then both shamans fly to the interior of the American Continent and carry away a young girl, the daughter of an American chief. They bring her to the tent of Kuku'lpin. Kuku'lpin says to his companion, "As we are now companions in wives, you sleep tonight with the old one, I with the young one; to-morrow you shall sleep with the young one, and I with the old one." The girl is very pretty. "Yes," says the other with downcast head. He thinks to himself, "What a scoundrel !" They went to sleep in one sleeping-room. Kuku'lpin embraced the girl with his arms and with his legs, then he fell asleep. The old wife moves nearer to the guest; he pushes her with his elbow. He looks at Kuku'lpin. Kuku'lpin sleeps. "To-day is my turn, not to-morrow!" He blew at his companion, who was carried off through the tent to a high cliff overhanging the sea. Kuku'lpin, however, succeeds in escaping from his dangerous position, and takes cruel revenge on his faithless companion and rival.
   These marital ties with strangers lead us to the so-called "prostitution of hospitality." It cannot be positively ascertained whether in ancient times that custom existed among the Chukchee. According to Russian accounts of ancient times, it was customary for Russian merchants at the spring Chukchee fairs to visit the rich maritime traders. They would bring with them iron, kettles, tobacco in bags, and gave all this to the host as a present. The host, in return, offered his wife to the guest, having first covered the sleeping-place with beaver, fox, and marten furs, numerous enough to cover the value of the present. Nowadays no such custom exists.
   As indicated above, Chukchee girls and women are noted for their loose conduct, and willingly comply with the wishes of Russian guests and acquaintances for an insignificant remuneration. The Chukchee, however, class even such cases under the head of group-marriage. In regard to these matters, very humorous misunderstandings occur between the Russians and the Chukchee. Thus, on one of his journeys through the Kolyma district, the chief officer Karzjn obviously had intimate intercourse with one of the wives or relatives of a rich reindeer-breeder, Omrêlqo't. When Karzin returned to Sredne-Kolymsk, the following incident occurred. Karzin's housekeeper (he was a widower) arranged a feast for the occasion. The Chukchee Omrêlqo't was among those present. From the beginning of the feast, Omrêlqo't got drunk, tried to dance, and, feeling hot, began without ceremony to throw off one piece of clothing after another. Finally he was left naked, and sat down on the floor. The host advised him to go to sleep. "I will go," replied the Chukchee; "but you must allow me to sleep with this wife of yours, just as you have slept with mine."
   During all my journeys among the Chukchee, I never received an offer of "prostitution of hospitality;" but I was often asked in the most naive and shameless way to participate in group-marriages. {I. Veniaminoff (Notes on the Islands of Unalashka District, Part II, p. 60) mentions "hospitable prostitution" as existing among the Aleut. A new-comer could, by the rights of hospitality, participate in the bed of his host.}
   Levirate. -- With group-marriage we find, among the Chukchee, the custom of levirate, according to which, after the death of one of several brothers, the next oldest becomes his successor. He takes care of the wife and children of the deceased, finds for them a dwelling in his camps, and acts as husband to the woman and as father to the children. The herd he unites with his own, but keeps it for the children of the deceased. When, however, the difference in age is very great, the brother does not exercise his levirate right, in order not to enter into marital relations with an old woman. In the absence of brothers, the levirate passes to cousins. It should be noted that levirate often has the character of a duty rather than that of a right. A woman left without a husband, with her children and a herd to attend to, needs a protector; and the obligation to assist her falls on the nearest relative. However, only the younger brother or cousin-german uses the right of levirate over the widow of his older relative. The older brother or cousin-german has no such right over the widow of his younger relative. In case of need, even the nephew uses the right of levirate in regard to his' widowed aunt; but the uncle is forbidden to do the same with the widow of his nephew.
   I know a case on the Wolverene River where one Ča'nla married the widow of his deceased nephew. The woman was young and pretty. The next fall the elder son of Ca'nla by another wife fell from a sledge when driving his reindeer fast, and broke his neck. Public opinion, as expressed by his neighbors, considered the death of the boy as a punishment for Ča'nla's trespassing against the marriage-customs.
   Such a form of levirate seems to have existed among several peoples. Thus, L. Sternberg {The Giliak of Saghalien (Ethnographical Review, 1893, II, p. 9, in Russian).} mentions that among the Gilyak "the wife of the deceased one goes over to one of his 'ruvn,' {The text reads "ruer;" but, according to a verbal commucation of L. Sternberg, this is a misprint.} usually to a younger one, according to a decision of the clan. 'Ruvn,' in Gilyak, are named brother's and sister's children' of all degrees of relationship.... When the woman is given to a 'ruvn' who is older than the deceased one, he must support her, but has no right to live with her as with his wife." This is connected with a Gilyak custom which permits the younger brother to cohabit with the wife of the older brother, but strictly forbids the converse. {L. Sternberg, The Giliak, p. 26 (Reprint from Ethnographical Review, 1905, Russian, pp. 60, 61, 63).} Among the Chukchee, however, as was said above, neither of the brothers has a right to cohabit with the wife of another brother during his lifetime.
   Dr. Forsyth mentions a rule more like that of the Chukchee as .existing among the Gonds of central India: "It is the duty of a younger brother to take to wife the widow of an older brother, though the converse is not permitted. {Forsyth, The Highlands of Central India (cited from E. Westermarck, History of Human Marriage, p. 511).}
   Levirate is widely spread among the American Eskimo, and is regarded more as a duty than a right. Such is the case also among the Athka Aleuts {I. Veniaminoff, Notes on the Islands of Unalashka District, Part III, p. 9. "In the case of the death of one brother, another was obliged to inherit the wife of the deceased one."} and among the Tlingit. {W. H. Dall, Alaska and its Resources, p. 416.}
   Mr. Jochelson describes a form of levirate of the Koryak, called by him "two-sided levirate," {Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 748.} in which the widow must marry the younger brother, younger cousin, or sister's or brother's son, of her deceased husband; and the widower must marry the younger sister, younger cousin, or sister's or brother's daughter, of his deceased wife. He suggests, that, according to certain remarks made by Steller, the two-sided levirate seems to have existed among the Kamchadal, and he mentions indications of the same custom among several North American tribes. Westermarck states {Westermarck, History of Human Marriage, p. 309.} that the East "Green-landers and the Eskimo of northeastern America disapprove of marriage with two sisters. According to Mr. Jochelson, this custom may relate to the two-sided levirate. Thus the Chukchee seem to be surrounded by tribes having the two-sided levirate. Still I have met no trace of this form of levirate among them.
   Marriage among the Maritime Chukchee. -- My information in regard to marriage among the Maritime Chukchee is rather scanty. On the whole, however, I can say that the basis of marital union among the Maritime Chukchee and the Asiatic Eskimo is the same as among the Reindeer Chukchee. We find again marriages of near relatives; marriages through exchange between families, woman for woman; and, finally, marriages into a strange family after a term of service. A young Maritime Chukchee or Eskimo enters the service of his prospective father-in-law, and lives with him for two or three years, giving him the products of his labor, until the father finally consents to give him the bride. If the bride is too young to enter the marital union, the groom must live with his father-in-law, work diligently, and wait until the bride grows up and matures. A number of my native friends of Maritime Chukchee extraction once enumerated and estimated the value of the products of their chase which each had given to his father-in-law while serving for the bride. In this enumeration, seals, walruses, fish, and even whales (whalebone excepted), were not mentioned at all, being classed as food good only for home consumption. The list contained merely those products which could be sold to whalers or exchanged with Reindeer Chukchee. One said, "During the entire time, I gave to my father-in-law three strips of whalebone, five white foxes, five large reindeer-skins, ten pairs of walrus-tusks." Another had given his father-in-law five strips of whalebone, three pairs of walrus-tusks, two large walrus-hides, etc.
   The custom of serving for a wife exists among several tribes of the adjacent countries. Thus, among the Koryak, Reindeer and Maritime, the wife is obtained by service in her family. Among the ancient Kamchadal, according to Steller, when somebody wanted to marry, he could get a wife merely by serving a term in her family. The details of the service are quite similar to those existing among the Chukchee. The young man must perform the hardest tasks of the household; and often, if he gives no satisfaction, he must go away without a word, and all his work is lost, to no purpose. {Steller, p. 343.}
   Among the Aleut the young man was obliged to live with his wife's parents and to serve them. {Dall, Alaska, p. 402.} The custom of service exists also among the Ainu. {Ibid., p. 524.}
   Young single men among the Maritime Chukchee, as well as among the reindeer-breeding branch of the tribe, enter as adopted sons-in-law into more prosperous families with many daughters. Finally, group-marriages and levirate are as fully developed as among the Reindeer Chukchee. Mixed marriages with persons belonging to another people are as common among the Maritime Chukchee as among the Reindeer branch. I have referred to the frequent mixed marriages between the Maritime and the Reindeer Chukchee. {W. Jochelson (The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 759) mentions, however, that the marrying of a Maritime Koryak suitor into a Reindeer Koryak family occurs quite rarely. A son-in-law from the coast will be but a poor herdsman. This is in full contrast with the Chukchee.} Marriages between the Maritime Chukchee and the Asiatic Eskimo are almost as common. Eskimo villages are found side by side with those of the Chukchee. In some villages, like Če'čin and Uwe'len, one half of the families are Chukchee; the other half, Eskimo. The Chukchee said to me, "At the present time, with the cessation of wars, the entire population has become mixed" (Imilo' re'mkin ralѳ gene'Lin, "the entire people become a mixture"). These words are repeated by the Chukchee all over their territory. Wives from the American shores are met less frequently among the Maritime Chukchee, and vice versa.
   In regard to the "prostitution of hospitality," it should be said, that, under the influence of American whalers, paid prostitution has developed among all the Maritime peoples on both coasts of Bering Sea. During the entire voyage, each ship has on board several young women from the Asiatic or the American shore. I have witnessed how, on the arrival of an American ship at the village Uni'sak, women in skin boats approached it from all sides, offering themselves quite openly. In order to be better understood, they would press their hands to their cheeks and close the eyes, symbolizing sleep.
   The marriage-rite consists of a sacrifice to the hearth and a general anointment. Instead of blood, red ochre is used for anointing. Whenever I asked what marks the married couple painted on their faces, the answer, curiously enough, was invariably "Tŭmñ-a'lvalag" ("It makes no difference"). It appears that in the Maritime Chukchee family, anointment-marks had also existed; but they went out of use with the wooden fire-drills, the marriage anointment being a survival of these marks.
   A marked difference between the marriages of the Maritime Chukchee and those of the Reindeer Chukchee, as compared one with the other, is the relative rarity of polygyny. It is true that in the tales of the Maritime Chukchee, men with three and four wives figure quite frequently; but in reality even bigamists are extremely rare. The Maritime Chukchee who lives by fishing and sea-hunting cannot afford to support an extra family. In fact, he is barely able to provide for one woman and her children. It is possibly due to this prevalence of monogamy, that ruptures of marriages, and cases where wives are sent back home or are carried off by relatives, occur much less frequently among the Maritime than among the Reindeer Chukchee.
   Even among traders who have become rich through their dealings with whalers, monogamy is the rule. I had occasion above to describe the polygynous family of Ei'heli, a rich reindeer-breeder on the Oloi River. The family of a rich Eskimo trader, Ku'var, from the village of Uni'sak at Indian Point, whose name has repeatedly been referred to, was of an entirely different character. They may easily be compared, for both are very typical of the most prosperous Reindeer as well as Maritime Chukchee, and I have lived in both families for a long time. Ku'var's family consisted of himself, his wife, and three young daughters. They had also had two sons, who died, one from measles, the other from grippe. The old folks were always together. They grieved greatly over their dead sons. "Since their death," Ku'var told me, "I have entirely lost my senses, begun to drink whiskey. Before that, I never drank, but only attended to the drunken guests and kept watch over them. Now I twitch all over, my mind is dull, no sleep. Thus we sit, I and my wife, and cry or play cards. Throughout the winter, as soon as it becomes dark, we expect guests. The guests come, enter the sleeping-room, warm themselves, make noise, -- that's what we like. The guests are gone, and we cry again. We cannot eat. We grieve."
   A Reindeer Chukchee, having lost his sons, would at once marry another young woman, that she might bear him other sons.


   The Camp of the Reindeer Chukchee. -- The camp among the Reindeer Chukchee, and the village among the Maritime- Chukchee, form the unit of social life. Though unstable, these exist without interruption. The Chukchee camp is very small. It includes usually two or three families, and the whole number of inhabitants is ten or fifteen. Camps of four, five, or six families form but a slight minority; and a camp with ten houses is almost impossible unless formed for special reasons, like the temporary camps in trading-places. As stated before, the number of tents corresponds to the number of families, since each family has a house of its own. In most cases the camp consists of related families, -- for instance, of brothers, cousins, etc., with their wives and children. Especially is this the case among people of moderate circumstances, where the herds are not so large as to make it necessary to keep them apart. When the herd left after the death of the father contains no more than a few hundred heads, there is every reason why the sons should not divide it into small parts, but should keep it together, as before. Among the poorer people, who count their reindeer only by scores, the sons are inclined to separate, and to seek a new fortune, each on his own account. On the other hand, such small reindeer-owners often join for a while with others of similar circumstances, even though not related. "Poor people are careless of ties of relationship," say the Chukchee. Five, and even eight, of such poor people, may keep together for a while, join the few reindeer they possess in order to form a herd of decent size, spend a couple of months in the common camp, and then disperse just as easily as they had joined. On the other hand, people who are rich in reindeer have a constant tendency to divide the herd and to form two or more separate camps. Moreover, the wealthy reindeer-owners are often unable to keep their reindeer well under the supervision of their own family alone, and have need of assistants. These assistants may be either some distant relatives or poor strangers; so that the camp of a rich man may be formed of a family of owners and of one or two families of assistants dependent on the master.
   The Master of the Camp. -- The master of the camp, who lives in the chief house, is called aunra'hn, which means here "one of the chief house;" {Aunra'lln generally means "master" (cf. p. 285). [612]} also e'rmečin ("the strongest one") and a3toora'lin ("one of the front house"). The inhabitants of the other tents are called nim-tu'mgit [pl. of mm-tu'mgin, "camp-companion," "camp-neighbor"); also yaarra'lin ("that of the rear house").
   The position of the front house is "on the front of the others;" that is, first on the right side of the line of houses, which, as stated before, are turned toward the morning-dawn "direction." {Compare p. 386.} Often it stands really somewhat in front of the others. The right and the left side, in this case, are pointed out, according to the Chukchee fashion, with face turned toward the sacrificing-place behind the tent {Compare p. 372.} (poia'ačên). Thus the place of the front house in the camp is farthest to the northeast. The rear houses are put up southeast of the front house. All houses stand in a single line. It should not be forgotten, however, that the camp-line may be turned also to the east or to the north; also, when the ground is uneven, the camp-line may be broken, and the houses erected out of the strict order. In this case, the entrances of the rear houses are more and more turned toward the south, and the last house may face a direction quite opposite to that of the front house. In most cases the Chukchee take care that the entrance of one house shall not be directed towards the poia'ačên of the preceding one. Otherwise, in sacrificing, the odor of the hearth of the house standing in a wrong position might reach the sacrificial fire of the preceding house, and taint its fire and fire-tools. {Compare p. 348.} On the contrary, two houses having a common fire may stand "quite straight to the poia'ačên" (kit-poia'ačê-ggêt). The front house is usually the largest of all. Therefore it is called čŭmña'-pêra'lin (i. е., "buck-similar"), meaning that it appears among the other houses like a big reindeer-buck among the other reindeer.
   The owner of the herd, or of the larger part of it, occupies this place by right. The eldest of the brothers, or his son, has preference over the others. Thus, sometimes a young boy may have preference over all his uncles. In the camps of the poor people, of which I have spoken before, the one who is richer or stronger than the others will have the front place. In temporary camps, -- for instance, in those formed in trading-places by casual comers, -- the front place belongs to the first comer. All the others take places according to the order in which they come; so that the last comer occupies the rear place. The occupant of the front house is considered as the chief of the camp. He orders the change of camping-place and of pasture-ground, and designates the days for bringing the herd to the camp, for slaughtering reindeer, for arranging ceremonials and sacrifices. In the everyday life of the people he assigns the working-men to duties with the herd and in the camp. It will thus be seen that his power within the precincts of this small unit of two or three houses is very real. Since the Chukchee are very impatient under other men's authority, quarrels frequently happen even among brothers. Then separation ensues, though the size of the herd would make it preferable to keep together. When the camp includes families not connected by ties of relationship, and quarrels occur, the separation of the herds leads to new misunderstandings, since the ownership of certain animals cannot always be established with certainty. Some people of poor standing and of violent temper often purposely seek to drive their few reindeer into the herd of some rich reindeer-breeder. This is more apt to be the case in summer, when the herds are pasturing too near each other. On the Arctic coast, in the Kolyma country, when a rich man comes too near the shore in summer, he always incurs the risk of such unwished-for intermingling of herds. The strip of the shore close to the water, which is cool and rich in vegetation, is occupied by the poor people; and their small herds often mix together, so that this strip of land is a ground of constant strife and quarrel. Still, among themselves the poor are able to separate without much loss. When, however, a rich man arrives with his herd, his position is more difficult. The other party then has an opportunity to slaughter his reindeer, to mark the fawns with the thief's own ear-mark, and to change the marks of grown animals.
   The owner of a large herd does not know all his animals, and some of the less conspicuous may even be abstracted without his being able to detect it. Therefore the owner of a large herd always keeps at a distance from the other camps, and, besides, is on the alert against the approach of another herd. The separation of herds, even when performed without any fraud, is a long and tiresome affair; so that the herdsmen are quite ready to use physical force to prevent encroachers from coming too near. I often witnessed such mingling of herds, which ended in quarrel and squabbling. The Reindeer Tungus, when they live with the Chukchee, have a strong inclination to mix their herds, because they are poor and move with their reindeer and tents even in summer, while the Chukchee stay in the same place during that season. When separation is again accomplished, the Chukchee complain that several of their animals are missing. The Tungus, on the other hand, talk about the loss of some well-broken animal which was of especial value. Since the Tungus reindeer, though less numerous, are of superior quality and of higher price than the Chukchee animals, both contending parties have cause for mutual reproach.
   It goes without saying that a man cannot join a camp if he is not' allowed to do so by its inhabitants. Even in the very temporary camps at trading-places or in those established at large reindeer-races, where many of the participants come with a travelling-tent and family, no one can pitch his tent near the others without previous permission. After this is given and the reindeer are unharnessed, the herd immediately joins the common herd, because the general rule is, one camp, one herd. Even here separation of the reindeer leads afterwards to quarrels. The reindeer brought to such gatherings are of greater value, well-broken, strong coursers, or fat animals intended for slaughter; and the loss of even one counts.
   Assistants. -- Camps of rich men, as stated before, have assistants dependent on the master. The beginning of the relations between master and assistant is well described in the tale of Ai'ginto. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 263.}
   "Then they continued their journey with dogs. At last they were without food. All their dogs had perished. They went afoot, drawing their sledges behind them. Almost all their strength was spent. At last they met a large reindeer-herd. One small boy herdsman was with the herd. 'Oh, oh, guests! And who are you?' -- 'We are people of Ai'ginto.' -- 'Aha! at last we have found some companions on this earth. Come to our tent.' -- 'But who is the oldest of all there?' -- 'The father, of course.' -- 'But maybe he will say "I do not want them." Let us jather stay here in this place.' -- 'Then I shall go and ask the father.'
   "The old man lives in his tent with his wife and family. 'There,' says the son, 'some guests have come, quite unknown before.' -- 'Where are they? Let them come in.' -- 'They have remained with the herd, saying, "Maybe thy father will say, 'I do not want them.'"' -- 'Oh, you are the cause of the delay,' says the old man. 'Our companions-to-be are waiting in the open. Go back, and be quick!' The boy sped back like an arrow shot from a bow. 'The father chides me for your error, and says, "Why have you not brought them all at once?"' -- 'Eh, eh! then let us go there.' They came to the tent. Ai'ginto refused to enter, and told the children to stay outside. 'Maybe the old woman will look at us awry.' Only the .young herdsman has entered. 'Where are the guests?' -- They refuse to enter, saying, 'Maybe the old woman will look at us awry.' -- 'Oh, oh! You old one, now you are the cause of the delay. Go out and make them enter.' The old woman went out. 'Ah, ah! a woman guest has come. Quick, enter the sleeping-room !' She took the snow-beater and dusted their clothes, shaking off the snow. 'Go in.' -- 'Let the father enter first,' says the master from within. Ai'ginto entered. 'You came?' -- 'Yes, I came!' {"Ye'tti?" ("You came?") "Tiye'ttyä3q!" ("I came!") are the usual greetings of the Chukchee, which are exchanged when a man enters the sleeping-room. Good manners require these short formulas to be pronounced. When the new-comer is still outside, and the master, sitting in the sleeping-room, hears him coming, the first words exchanged usually run as follows: --
   "Mei" -- "Wui!" -- "Me'ñin?" -- "Êlo', gŭm!"
   "Halloo!" -- "Ho!" -- "Who (are you)?" -- "No, (it is) I."
   Then follows the invitation to enter and exchange short greeting formulas. In the intercourse with the Russians, another greeting is used, -- toro'ma, -- which is only the Russian greeting здорово ("Your health"), changed according to the necessities of Chukchee phonetics.} He showed him to the place of honor, opposite himself, by the other side of the lamp. 'Then let the sons of the guest enter.' The boys entered. He made them sit down by his own side. 'These shall be my own dear sons.' -- 'And what shall I do (without sons),' said Ai'ginto. 'Wait a little! Let my own son enter here.' The boy entered. 'This shall be thy son, since he brought thee here.' -- 'All right,' said Ai'ginto. 'Mine are two sons, and thine only one. Let us exchange, if food from thee is included in the bargain.'
   "Thus they began to live. All three boys were taking care of the herd. The old men staid at home."
   This description shows well how strong may be the desire of the master to have a new neighbor and assistant for the care of the herd. Of course, it gives the ideal conditions of such relations. It will be noted that the rich reindeer-owner and the poor new-comer meet in this tale on a quite equal footing, and then they live rather as two brothers than as master and dependent.
   Another tale concerning Ele'ndi and his sons describes the same relationship entered into between the master and his slave who was taken as a prisoner of war.
   The tale describes how Ele'ndi sen't his prisoner to the herd, and ordered him to take care of it, together with his own two boys. The prisoner, however, spent all his time sleeping in the shade, and left the boys alone with the herd. Therefore, when it was time to carry meat to the house, the slaughtered reindeer proved to be quite lean, without any trace of fat. The master was angered at this, and asked the boys the reason of such a bad condition of the herd. "It is because the assistant is very bad," was the answer. "Why in the world did you bring such a man here? He only sleeps in the shade all the time, and, besides, he keeps thrashing both of us."
   The father came to the herd, caught the assistant sleeping, and gave him a severe lesson with the aid of a heavy lash. Still the assistant continued to do as before. In a few days the master came again and repeated the thrashing, using this time a fragment of an iron chain. Then the assistant changed his behavior. He began to be active with the herd. When the herd ran, he ran still faster than the reindeer. They slaughtered a reindeer. He said to the boys, "Now you may sleep." He cut the meat and cooked it, put it into a trough, then wakened the children. "Now, sit up and eat." The youths ate of the meat, put on their boots, and wanted to go to the herd; but he said, "You may sleep again, I shall go to the reindeer." The boys slept as long as they wanted to; then they awoke and sat in the shelter, singing. He became very careful, and was with the herd all the time. The herd fattened. He became a good herdsman and very skilful in taking care of the reindeer. They slaughtered again. The fawns were fat and round, like a tallow candle. They slaughtered one young doe and two fawns. The boys said, "Now you must go home and carry the meat." He carried one carcass on his back. When he came to the camp, the master was occupied with some small handwork. "Oh, oh, you have come! There, give him some dry boots to change with." Thus he said to his wife. The master untied the bundle, and saw the fawn-carcass quite white with fat. The heart of the master felt merry. They ate of the fat meat. The assistant immediately changed his boots again and wanted to go. "Where to?"-- "To the herd!" -- "No, no, sleep here! Let the boys be alone." They slept; but early in the morning, when the master awoke, there was no trace of the assistant. He had left for the herd. So the summer passed. They brought the kettles home, and the fall slaughtering was about to begin. The assistant took so much care of the herd, that the boys had no occasion to be with it. He looked after it all by himself. The reindeer were quite fat. Their backs were flat, like boards, and the old bucks were solid with meat.
   The master felt thankful to the assistant; but there was treason in the heart of the latter, and at last he succeeded in taking the master to a lonely island far from the shore, and leaving him there. Then he came to the camp and became master of it. For a few weeks he tyrannized over the boys and the wives of the master, slaughtered the reindeer, and ate of the best. Ele'ndi, however, was saved by birds, who brought him back over the sea. Ele'ndi caught the assistant and punished him with barbarous torture and death.
   The man who told me this tale added, by way of explanation, "If the assistant had continued to be good and useful, Ele'ndi, of course, would have treated him with the utmost kindness, and probably would have even given him one of his sisters in marriage, or even one of his own wives. His anger was heightened by his previous disposition to generosity and kindness."
   It may be said that these two very characteristic cases form almost the most divergent examples regarding the position of an assistant in the Chukchee camp, since in the first case the assistant comes of his own free will, and immediately after his coming is treated as an equal and a brother; while in the second case the assistant is brought as a prisoner, is obliged to perform hard work, is severely chastised for carelessness, and only in the end is raised to the position of a member of the family in recompense for his changed behavior and successful work. It may also be said that all the cases of actual life fall under these two examples.
   There are masters who are exceedingly kind to their assistants, just as the old man was to Ai'ginto. With them the assistants gradually become like near relatives, and remain for life in the camp. In the end there is no difference between the two families; and sometimes, when the master dies, the assistant may even become the real head of the camp, although the formal right belongs to another.
   Other masters, on the contrary, are harsh and stingy. With them the assistants change almost every year. But when a man of meek disposition comes to such a master, he may endure a large amount of ill treatment before he decides to go away. I know cases where the master not only abused his assistant with words, but even chastised him with a stick or a rope, almost in the same way as Ele'ndi did to his slave.
   The ideal, however, requires that the family of the master should be mild and generous to their assistant. For instance, in another episode of the last tale, Ele'ndi, when taking his adversary a prisoner, kills his wife with a club before his eyes, saying, "Why have you not fed your neighbors, at least stealthily (unbeknown to your husband)? Why have you not given them some extra food?"
   In reality, when a master is too severe, his wife feels herself obliged to give clandestinely to their young assistant some extra piece of dried meat or fat, that he may eke out a sufficient meal, or to make him some slight present to console him for the harsh rebuke and bad treatment of the master.
   In another part of the same tale, Ele'ndi, when coming to his adversary, is asked to participate in the meal. When they began to eat, the poor neighbors wanted to eat also; but the master gave them' blows instead of food.
   "You must be the last. Let these my guests be the first eaters." His custom was such that the poor neighbors did not dare to eat with him. Their throats were wishful, but they only looked on wistfully. What else could they do? Then Ele'ndi says, "Well, well, you also partake of the meat." They slip their hands under the hands of the guests and try to take something; but the master strikes them on the hands. He cuts some whale-meat just for himself, and eats it all alone. The guest says again, "All of you may eat!" The master gave a blow to the guest, saying, "Why are you giving orders here? I am the master." The guest caught up his strong hide belt and gave the master a blow upon the naked back (since, according to custom, both were naked to the waist). The whole body of the master reddened and swelled from the blow. Then the guest says to his own wife, "Cook some more meat. These poor friends of ours have not yet had their fill." The master remains on the spot, motionless. The wife of the guest is cooking meat. In the strange house she acts as if it were her own. The master says, "Wait a little. We shall soon know how to act. This is probably the well-known violent Reindeer Chukchee warrior." Ele'ndi answers, "Not I. You alone are the real violent one, because by violence you have taught your neighbors not to dare to eat in your presence. You would tear the last piece from their very mouths. You are the violent one, I feed all my neighbors, -- eat one piece myself, and give another piece to them. You are the only one who is violent. Therefore maybe I shall kill you. Nobody will be sorry for it."
   Thus Ele'ndi expresses his utmost indignation at the unfair behavior of the master of the house. It should be noted that Ele'ndi is a man of Reindeer birth and life, and expresses here the feelings of the Reindeer nomads. His host, however, is of the Maritime tribe, and lives by hunting sea-animals. It should be borne in mind that among the Reindeer Chukchee the assistant is usually a strong young fellow, who is of great help with the herd. Among the Maritime people it is not assistants, but rather "poor neighbors," as they are called in the tale, who act in this capacity. These poor neighbors hjive small luck or skill in sea-hunting, and often depend for food on some morsel thrown away by one more successful than they. Therefore it is no wonder that the position of neighbors is quite different among the Reindeer tribe and the Maritime people. The words of Ele'ndi give full expression to the Reindeer point of view as opposed to the greediness and stinginess of the Maritime people.
   As to the realization of this ideal in actual life, I may give here a very characteristic story of a certain Chukchee who was left an orphan while still a young boy, and who had to become an assistant from early youth up.
   "Then my uncle came to me and said, 'Oh, you are my nephew, you must live with me. I will feed you. When you grow up and I become an old man, you shall take my house, and my entire herd shall be yours.' Then I lived with him for five years. All this time I was all alone with the reindeer. All this time, on coming back home, I ate very little. Still my uncle was not pleased. He said to me, 'Oh, why do you move so slowly? You are very lazy. You will grow up to be a lazy man.' And a little after that he said again, 'Let me give you a beating.' Then he began beating me with the end of the lasso, and always on the head. At last, one autumn, when all the people were going over the river, we also went with them. He still used to beat me with a stick. Then I said, 'Let me be separated from him.' I went back over the river stealthily, in the night-time. Then I came to Omru'wgê's camp on the tundra, -- Omru'wgê, the Snotty-Nosed, so called. He says, 'Oh, it is you! Stay with me for a while.' His brother, a very bad man, was all the time abusing people. I spent a part of the summer there. Then I left and went to Wu'kwuqäi's. He said, 'My herd is too small. There is no need of you here.' I answered, 'All right, let me go away again.' From there I went to Eiñe'wgi's. He said, 'Your other uncle lives near by. Let us go there!' We went to this other uncle of mine, ѳti'lhin by name. He said, 'Nephew, you have come?' -- 'Yes, I have come!' -- 'All right. To-morrow morning go to the herd.' From that place I went to Pe'ñelqut's. He is also my uncle, once removed, an uncle on my mother's side, or I do not know what. Still with him I fared very ill. He scolded me, and said, 'You take little care of the herd. At the same time you eat too greedily. Upon the whole, you are a sorry herdsman, and in the future I shall clip your ears.' Then he said again, 'If you are not careful enough with the herd, I shall kill you. Try to be a good herdsman. Make the reindeer graze well. When they become fat, we shall eat of their savory meat. We shall sell them to the merchants. Afterwards, when you become an old man, you shall still live in affluence. Then at last you will die a decent death, and your children will raise for you a good-sized heap of antlers; and every one driving by with reindeer will praise your name.'" {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 60.}
   It will be noticed that most of the masters of this young herdsman were his relatives, but this does not make much difference. Several times I saw rich reindeer-owners abusing their herdsmen, kinsmen and strangers, in a similar manner.
   I remember one old man with whom I was staying over night. The night was dark and windy, and the wolves succeeded in making an assault upon the herd and driving away several animals. The next morning, when the old man left the sleeping-room and came outside, he found two of the herdsmen of the camp, who told him the unpleasant story. Immediately he grew very angry, caught up his lasso, and began chastising them both. They were men of large bulk and tall of stature; and he was a small, half-decrepit fellow, who, to make his blows more effective, skipped around and tried to strike them upon the face with the iron ring of the lasso. They did not show any resistance. From the Chukchee point of view, the old man was in the right, and they in the wrong, especially since, instead of going in search of the lost animals, they came to the camp to talk about the loss. One of the herdsmen was a nephew of the man; the other, an assistant of alien provenience. In this case the difference of age gave to the master an additional right to be severe to his herdsmen.
   I remember, however, another case where a young master chastised an assistant of the same age as himself. The master was a strong man of daring temper, and a very good indefatigable herdsman. The assistant, on the contrary, was a rather poor herdsman, "given much to sleeping and eating," as the Chukchee say. If the opposite had been the case, perhaps a weak master would not have dared to chastise a strong and active assistant.
   The Chukchee language has no special term for assistants. They are called by the common word nim-tu'mgit ("camp-companions," "camp-neighbors"), {See p. 612.} referring to all the inhabitants of the camp besides the chief. Another word used for the same purpose is gŭpi'lin, which means simply "working one," and is applied to all men active around the herd and house, including the members of their own family. A third word in usage is čawčuwa'-a3mѳ'lin. The first part of the word means, as indicated before, "Reindeer Chukchee," also "rich in reindeer;" the second part means "weak, dependent, subordinate," and implies a tinge of blame. The word ѳ3mu'lin by itself, when applied to a man, is taken almost as an abuse. With another preceding word, ciq, which means "utmost," čiq-ä3mu'lin signifies "very weak," "good for nothing," and implies an insult, leading to a serious quarrel. Ä'mu'lin, however, is used also as a proper name, which is sometimes met with among the Chukchee. Probably this term was applied in olden times to slaves and prisoners of war, of which I shall speak later on.
   The words vi'yolm, vinre'telm, vinre't-tu'mgin, all signify "assistant" in the proper sense of that word ; but they are applied rather to a man who gives some special help. Therefore these terms are used also for the so-called assistants of supernatural character. {Compare p. 319.}
   Material Conditions. -- The material conditions of life of assistants in the camp of a master vary according to the quality of their work and the size of the herd in the care of which they help. If the assistant has some reindeer of his own, they are joined to the herd of the camp, and stay there until the separation. In most cases, however, the assistants receive from the herd of the master at least the daily food for their families. Their tents are pitched in the camp among the "rear houses," and at most slaughterings all the houses of the camp receive one slaughtered reindeer each. Of course, the front house receives one of the best, perhaps some large buck or a fat barren doe; while the last of the rear houses may receive only a lean fawn hardly one year old. This depends also on the position of the assistant in the camp. If the master is contented with the work of the assistant, he would not presume to feed his family with poor meat. In case the number of slaughtered animals does not correspond to the number of houses, each house receives its part of the meat. The question of clothing and of material for the tent-covering is decided by these slaughterings, because the women of each house take the skins of their respective animals, and may use them at will for any wants of their family.
   Tea, sugar, tobacco, iron, and other articles bought from traders, are acquired by the assistants, as well as by the masters, quite independently; for instance, in exchange for peltries obtained in hunting-pursuits. Among the Reindeer Chukchee, however, the chief articles of value used for exchange are fawn-skins gathered in spring and summer. Such skins will, of course, be in the possession of the master only, with the exception of a very few, which the assistant may have from his own reindeer. Therefore the master, after coming from a trading-place, will take some part of the wares brought home, and give to his assistants, especially if they were not successful in the hunt, and thus were short of means for making purchases. In the course of time the master will give to his assistants some of his tea and tobacco, when they have none; at least, a master who is "good" will act thus.
   Not rarely is it the case that a family whose prosperity has declined, and whose herd is not large enough to provide for their subsistence, prefers, instead of continuing a half-hungry life, to join the camp of some rich reindeer-breeder short of hands. Of course, rich owners sometimes have misgivings regarding such impoverished neighbors, fearing that the bad luck of their herd may prove detrimental to their own prosperity. {Compare p. 351.} Still the need of extra herdsmen is often stronger than such fear; especially when the poorer family, after losing a part of their herds, has succeeded in allaying the misfortune and in remaining for some years in circumstances not utterly hopeless.
   In combinations where large and small herds are joined together, the families of new assistants receive only a part of their subsistence from the master, and take another portion from their own herd. At each slaughtering the herdsmen slaughter such animals as the master points out, and carry them to the entrance of such and such a house, according to his order; then, if some house is left without an animal, the people catch one of their own reindeer and slaughter it. In this case, however, the connection between master and assistant is not very strong, and may in a short time be dissolved.
   On the contrary, typical assistants receive from their masters, besides the food, also a few live fawns, as a yearly present. In the latter part of the summer the fawns are marked on the ear with the mark of the proprietor. When a fawn is caught and handed over to the master, the latter sometimes, instead of biting {Regarding the process of marking animals by biting them in the ear, cf. p. 84.} into its ear the lines of his own mark, tenders it to one of the assistants, and says briefly, gina'n ("yourself). Then the animal is marked by the assistant, and belongs to him. The number of such animals depends on the size of the herd, and still more on the mortality among the fawns during the preceding spring. In a good year an assistant may receive from the master three, five, and even more animals. These grow up in the common herd of the camp, and all the increase belongs also to the assistant. I have mentioned before that under favorable circumstances reindeer multiply very fast, since the doe bears fawns even from the very first year. At the next slaughtering the master will always consent to slaughter a young buck of the assistant, and give him in exchange a doe of the same age from among his own animals; the more so, as the buck is larger in size and yields more meat. So, after a few good years, an assistant who came to the master's camp empty-handed, may become the owner of fifty and even a hundred does. It has already been stated that, in speaking of the size of the Chukchee reindeer-herd, only the does are taken into account. I met on the Dry Anui River one Ta'to, who lived as an assistant in the camp of Qe'nu-kê'La3n, a rich reindeer-breeder of that country. Ta'to was with him for fifteen years. When he came to that camp, he had no reindeer at all. At the time of our meeting he had about three hundred does. The herd of the master was about three thousand or more. The family of Ta'to was still feeding from the herd of the master, and his own animals continued to increase. With the number of reindeer he had, he could have left Qe'nu-kê'La3n and formed a separate camp, but he preferred staying with the master. Both were of middle age and had sons and daughters who helped them with the herd. Both were also very alert and experienced herdsmen, with a wide knowledge of all kinds of pasturage, in summer and winter. They lived together very peacefully and friendly, in somewhat the same way as Ai'ginto and his master, in the tale before mentioned.
   In other cases, however, an assistant who has succeeded in gathering about a hundred or more does, leaves his master, and forms a camp of his own. Through long years of caring for a large herd, such an assistant grows to be a good herdsman, often better than any of the men of the master's own family; so that he is also able to take care of his own herd, and to make it increase from year to year. Such new herdsmen are very economical, and take care to slaughter as few animals as possible. I remember one who lived on the Oloi River. He was endeavoring to feed his family with all kinds of substitutes in order to save the reindeer-meat. They were consuming large quantities of leaves, bark, and half-digested moss from the reindeer-paunch. In the summer, when I was travelling on the Oloi River, he left his wife in the summer camp without slaughtering any of the reindeer, and was absent with the herd for almost two months. On his return he nevertheless found courage to reprove the woman for having, in his opinion, consumed too much rancid reindeer-blood from the supply of the family.
   No wonder that some of such assistants succeeded, after a number of years, in becoming quite rich reindeer-owners. Thus, from the same country on the Oloi River, I may name Ka'gno, Riko'q-Ai'wan, and several others, who in their youth had been assistants, and who later had herds of several thousand animals. In taking care of them, they were in their turn aided by poor assistants.
   The richest reindeer-owners, who possess four or five large herds, such as Ei'heli of the Oloi River, Omrêlqo't of the Upper Omolon, Ara'ro of the Indighirka tundra, etc., still take care that each of their camps, corresponding to a separate herd, shall have as front-house master one of their nearest relatives. With Ei'heli each herd was looked after by an adult son; and the sons were almost the real possessors of the herd, from the very beginning of their independent life. One of them, for instance, in order to avoid being controlled in any way by the father, wandered with the herd into the distant mountains, and did not appear in the father's vicinity for three consecutive years. When I was with Ei'heli, the old man sometimes felt angry about it, and grumbled, "I will go there and take away my herd." We knew, however, that he was of a boastful disposition, and liked to exaggerate the extent of his force and influence. All the people about him were quite sure that, even if he should go and find the reprobate son, he would not think of taking the herd from him, nor would he be able to do so. With Omrêlqo't, two herds of his were under the direction of his two wives, and the younger brother of Omrêlqo't cared for the third. The same was the case with Ara'ro and the others. So, when Maydell mentions, in the words of Amra'wkurgin, that with the rich Chukchee the herds are usually given to the assistants, who live with them quite independent of the master, slaughter and sell animals, and that the only condition of their contract is that the herd must be kept in good health and must multiply in number, {Maydell, I, p. 159.} I can only attribute it to a complete misunderstanding. The herd cannot exist without the special charms, the earmark, anointing-mark, etc., of its owner's family, all of which are necessary for good-luck. And no family will trust its "reindeer-luck" to a stranger, or, what is still worse, will suffer its sacred belongings to be replaced by those of another family. All the conditions of life of the Reindeer Chukchee are such, that an assistant who would live by himself with a herd, after a few years would become master of this herd no matter to whom it originally belonged.
   Still more difficult to understand are the communications of Maydell concerning the aristocracy among the Reindeer Chukchee, founded on the different sizes of their herds. {Maydell, I, p. 465.} No trace of such a thing actually exists. Maydell's opinion may be explained only by his position as a Russian official, who endeavored by every means to create "chiefs" and authority among the savage Chukchee. I will speak of this later in more detail.
   Kuva'r of Indian Point, being an Eskimo, and therefore having no reindeer-herd of his own, actually bought a quantity of reindeer and gave them all to a Chukchee friend of his. This herd, however, cannot be compared with the usual herds. The animals were all acquired by purchase, and, to speak correctly, this herd formed the product of trade with the Americans. Moreover, Kuva'r was content to receive from the herd a certain amount of meat and skins, and did not look too closely into the dealings of his manager.
   Assistants of Alien Origin. -- In those parts of the Chukchee territory where the Chukchee live intermixed with the Tungus or the Chuvantzy, both these tribes supply assistants for the Chukchee herds. Thus Ara'ro has Tungus assistants in all four herds belonging to him. This became possible, of course, only during the last fifty years, when peace was assured, and the tribes began to intermingle, at least on their common frontiers. The admission of Tungus assistants is quite natural, as the Chukchee herds of those localities are full of Tungus reindeer, which are more valuable, and the care and breaking of which are better known to the Tungus. Especially is this the case in the summer-time and with riding-reindeer, since the Chukchee have no experience in dealing with these. Some young Chukchee breeders take a Tungus assistant purposely for the summer-time, in order to learn from him the ways of riding reindeer and of wandering in summer. In many cases, however, Tungus assistants do not stay very long in the Chukchee camps, the character of both tribes being so different. The Chukchee does not like much wandering, but he is ever mindful of the increase of his animals. This care requires great alertness and uninterrupted attention to the herd and pasture. The Tungus is indolent, and soon wearies of camp duties. He likes travel and hunting, and is altogether of a roaming disposition. So, after a few months, he often leaves the Chukchee camp, which is heavy and too stationary for his tastes, and wanders far away to hunt wild reindeer or mountain-sheep.
   Paupers. -- The Chukchee camp knows hardly any other social position than that of the master, his nearest relatives, and his assistants. Later I shall speak of the Maritime village, which is founded on another principle, that of territorial contiguity, and which is much larger than the camp. I shall indicate then the elements of population of different character; for instance, very poor families, consisting mostly of widows and orphans, who have no near relatives, and who depend for their support wholly on their neighbors. The Chukchee camp rarely knows such categories of people. All families of the Reindeer Chukchee are connected among themselves by ties of relationship. Thus a poor family without relatives is almost impossible. Nearly always some relative, however distant, will take them to his camp and give them means for subsistence. Even when an assistant living in the camp of another man suddenly dies, his family, though not at all related to the master, will be kept in the camp and provided for, however sparingly. On the other hand, a family utterly friendless, and strangers to every one, are placed in a very difficult position, since they have no place in which to live. Of course, when a stranger family happens to come to a Chukchee camp, -- for instance, during the trade-gatherings, -- if they are poor and have no reindeer of their own to slaughter, the master of the camp, when he slaughters for his people, may also slaughter an animal for the poor visitors. In times of ceremonial slaughtering, even Russian and Tungus guests receive slaughtered fawns as a present from the master of the camp.
   The general rule is, that whoever lives in the camp must have food from one source or another; but after a couple of days the time arrives when all the guests and the casual comers must leave the camp, and a friendless family often does not know where to go. For instance, the man called Scratching-Woman, whose name has been mentioned before, told me the following about his own infancy. His father was a weak and shiftless little fellow, who had but few reindeer, and even those he lost one winter in a big snow-storm. This happened near the Russian village Markova, on the Anadyr River. Then the parents of Scratching-Woman came to Markova afoot, dragging behind them a sledge, on which lay their only son and their scanty belongings. They staid in Markova about two months, and could get but very little to eat; so that at the end of that time the father died, mainly from hunger, and the mother and son nearly followed his example. Some Reindeer Chukchee, who came to Markova for trading-purposes, however, took them back to the Chukchee camps; and from that time on they scarcely had any place in which to live. Nobody wanted them in his camp; and if they staid too long, nobody cared whether they had anything to eat or not. Thus they lived in constant hunger. They did not have even a single driving-reindeer, and were obliged to wander from place to place on foot. When the boy grew older, he endeavored to get something from his richer neighbors by performing various small services. He carried large bundles of fuel, carried water and ice, unharnessed driving-reindeer, and for all this received a piece of putrid meat, or a reindeer-paunch filled with rancid blood. "My growth was stunted by that hunger," said Scratching-Woman, "and that is why I am of low stature."
   A woman who was left a widow with a son of five told me nearly the same. "When my husband died," she said, "his brother came and took the reindeer. He also wanted to take me; but he was so horrid of face, with a broken nose and a hole in his cheek, that I refused, and said, 'I will go elsewhere.' Then he grew angry and said, 'I will give you no reindeer on which to ride.' Therefore I and my boy left there on foot. Our life from that time on was one of constant hunger and suffering. My boy tried to act as an assistant in the strange herd; but he was too small, and the master too exacting. When my son was no higher than the reindeer's back, he had to spend sleepless nights, like the grown herdsmen. Very slowly we acquired a few reindeer, and at last succeeded in increasing our stock to a hundred does, which enables us to exist, though in a modest way."
   "Idle Wanderers? -- Despite all that has just been said, there are among the Reindeer Chukchee men who live almost entirely outside of the camp and family connections, and spend their time in aimless wandering from place to place. The people call them "tŭmñe'-lei'wulit" ("idle wanderers," "tramps"). Their position, however, is not an enviable one. They have neither tent nor herd, and the conditions of life in the arctic tundra make it hard to exist without any home comforts.
   I met several such wanderers. Some were still young, others were already old; some had wives who wandered with them, others were all alone in the world; some had at least a reindeer-team of their own, others had but a single reindeer, and a few had none at all, though wandering in the tundra afoot in the winter-time is quite difficult. There were men who had neither reindeer nor rifle, nor even so much as a belt-knife, which to the arctic man is almost as necessary as his right hand.
   Wanderers are much neglected. Hunger is their constant companion. I mentioned before that the Chukchee eat only once a day, and even the coming of a guest of honor does not change this established rule. With the "idle wanderer" it is still worse. In the evening, when meal-time at last comes, he may, of course, according to custom, enter any house; but he will be shown a place near the entrance, behind all other guests, and from this place he is not able to reach the trough with his hands. The mistress of the house will slip into his hand a few morsels of meat of the poorer quality, and she will not expect him to ask for more. He will hardly be admitted into the inner room to sleep; his sleeping-place is in the outer tent, under some sledge, where the dogs sleep. The next day, if he stays in the camp, he receives still less food, and is treated with less ceremony. Of course, if he wants to take part in the daily work, -- chop wood, carry water, catch reindeer, etc., -- his position may be changed; but then he ceases to be an "idle wanderer." Even old men thus inclined are harshly treated. One of my acquaintances told me the following story: --
   "Two years ago I was in the camp of Ginu'qai. His older brother, Tatk-Omru'wge, came from Umeke't-wui'wun ('Gathering Town,' the name the Chukchee give to Nishne-Kolymsk, because in the spring the trade-gatherings take place there). He came to his brother's camp and staid there a few days. Then they formed a corral of sledges to catch the driving-reindeer. At that time there came many guests, -- Vaa'hrgin, Ru'lti, Ê'llhm, Rultu'wgi with his wife. They drank brandy. Tatk-Omru'wge began to abuse Rultu'wgi, saying, 'Why have you. come hither? You are a poor hungry man. You wander about in your hunger, seeking of food.' Rultu'wgi answered, 'There was a time when I assisted men in catching reindeer.' -- 'Then why are you not doing it now?' Rultu'wgi said, 'I am now old. How shall I do it? In times past the old men sat quietly, well treated by the host.' -- 'No, no, you are the assisting one. Why are you sitting still? Can you give assistance sitting thus?' Tatk-Omru'wge said, 'There, stop sitting, or I will strike you on the head.' Rultu'wgi said, 'Do it, if you have no shame. Do you wish to shamelessly assault a man with an ailing back? My back causes me much suffering.' Tatk-Omru'wge grew angry, and said, 'Well, well, let us have a match.' Rultu'wgi took off his belt, also his fur shirt. Then he said, 'All right! Have a wrestling-match with me.' Both were tipsy. Tatk-Omru'wge also took off his belt with the knife. He said, 'No' I will only strike you on your head.' He struck the old man with the belt upon the head. 'Make yourself useful, quick, make yourself useful!' , The old man cried, 'Oh, oh, oh! Stop beating me! I will assist you.' He put on his shirt, took the lasso and the walking-staff, and ran to the reindeer. A little time after that, Tatk-Omru'wge asked us, 'Where is Rultu'wgi?' We said, 'He has gone to herd.' Tatk-Omru'wge roared after him, 'Rultu'wgi, Rultu'wgi, go away, go away! You will fill the whole camp of my younger brother with a stench!' Then the old man and his wife went away. The whole time they were weeping. Such was Tatk-Omru'wge, the violent, the richest reindeer-breeder on the whole tundra. The Luck-giving Being (Kinta'-va'irgin {The deity of reindeer-luck (cf. p. 314).}), in later time, however, made him poor." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 65.}
   Such a wandering life is still harder for women than for men; and those of the "idle wanderers" who have wives cannot keep them for a long time, unless the woman is also good for nothing, and undesirable for any other man. Even then, in the middle of winter, the man takes care to leave the woman, at least for a month or two, in the camp of some distant relative or of a man who is of milder disposition and does not begrudge a morsel to a wretched pauper. I remember one pair, -- a man Rana'wkurgin, and his wife Anqa'nna. Both were quite young. Rana'wkurgin's father died, and left him, a young boy, with a large herd of reindeer. Before he was grown up, half of the herd was gone. The other half he squandered away himself, and lost the greater part of it through card-playing. Then he became quite poor. At the time when I saw them they both had only one reindeer and an old sledge. The woman was suffering, probably from syphilis; the man, too, was lean and weak and good for nothing, as was plain at the first glance. They even had no decent winter clothes, which is rarely the case even among the "idle wanderers." The necessity of warm clothing is so imperious, that even the most careless fellows provide themselves with it in one way or another. The woman tried once or twice to leave her husband for another man, but nobody wanted her in his sleeping-room.
   Another "idle-wanderer," Yaqa'q, was already an old man. His life was much easier, because he had eight brothers, each with a "front house" in his camp. He refused to have either tent or camp. He spent his time wandering among the camps of his brothers; then he would move on and make visits among the camps of the whole neighborhood. Because of his brothers he was treated with consideration by the neighbors. Still another wanderer, Endi'w by name, was of a very happy and serene disposition of mind. Even under the most trying circumstances, he would only laugh and remain undisturbed. Another man, Ele'pqäi by name, wandered afoot among the camps, as much in winter as in summer. His power of endurance was remarkable, even among the Chukchee. In a most severe snow-storm he could sleep without a fire, burrowing into a large bank of drifting snow. He staid without food for two or three days almost as patiently as any wild animal. He spoke little. Upon the whole, he seemed a specimen of some lower type of man.
   The Neighboring Camp. '-- With the Reindeer Chukchee, who live in small camps widely scattered over the tundra, the nearest camp forms the only human group with whom one may have frequent intercourse. It is called nim-taka'čhin ("neighboring camp"). Nim is the root of the noun ni'mnim ("camp"). Taka'čhin is the noun taka'lhin ("mate," "companion") with a slight phonetic change, č and 1, in Chukchee phonetics, often replace each other.
   If some serious misfortune happens, the people of the nearest camp will always give help; the more so, since they are in most cases relatives, or at least good friends. As an instance may be given the following story, where the sudden death of a Chukchee while hunting wild reindeer is described.
   "When he left the camp and followed the reindeer-buck, they both ran to the ice on a large lake. He slipped on the ice and fell down. Here he broke his neck and remained on the ice. Two nights he was absent from his camp. After the second night, his wife went to the neighbors and brought them the news: 'My husband is absent!' -- 'Oh, where is he?' -- 'He was following the wounded reindeer.' -- 'Oh, oh! let us go and look for him.... Well, do you know what direction we are to take?' They went together, the woman and one of the neighbors. The woman sought on the land. He took the road across the ice. Then he found him, and gave a signal to the woman, who also came. The dead man was lying on the ice." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 26.}
   Neighboring camps often, in changing the pasture-grounds, follow the same route, in order to keep all the time in the same neighborhood as before. They gather their skins and peltries and give them to one man, who goes to some distant place for trading-purposes. They also assemble for ceremonials and races.
   The Village of the Maritime Chukchee. -- The Maritime village is founded, not on family connection, but on territorial contiguity. Many of the villages also have the front house (a3ttoora'n, "front house;" or a'rmači-ra'n, "the house of the strongest one"). The master of such a house is called asttoora'lin ("that of the front house") or a'rmači-ra'kn ("that of the house of the strongest"). The front house belongs to the family which has lived at the place longest without interruption. I spoke before of the fluctuation of the population in the maritime villages, according as luck in hunting changed. Now, a family like this remains in its place even under the most trying conditions. Their intimate knowledge of the place makes it possible for them to provide for their subsistence in one way or another. The position of this house will be in front of the others; i. е., on the right side of the line of houses, which are all turned with the entrance towards the sea. I have already mentioned that in several villages the owner of the front house pretends to have the priority of connection with the local gods, and even receives occasionally a kind of tribute from the other families. {Compare p. 387.} Many villages, however, some of them among the largest, have no front house at all. In these, all the inhabitants are on a quite equal footing, and the houses are scattered around without any plan.
   The Boat-Crew. -- The social unit of the Maritime people who have to do with sea-hunting is the so-called "boatful" (a3ttwa't-yinn), a boat's crew associated for hunting-purposes. In olden times, when people used the skin boat exclusively, a boat's crew consisted of eight men, -- one at the helm, another at the prow with harpoon and lance, and six paddlers. The man at the helm, who is the master of the boat, was sometimes considered as an extra member; and the whole crew, counting the regular number of eight, thus included nine men. The number eight was so firmly established, that even the sea-werwolves (killer-whales), of which I have spoken before, were supposed to course around in the sea in crews of eight.
   At present, in many places on the Pacific shore, the American whaling-boat has replaced the skin boat for hunting-purposes. The crew necessary for the whaling-boat is smaller than that for the skin boat, consisting of only five or six men, because the number of oarsmen required is less. The boat's crew is formed of the nearest relatives of the owner. It is a kind of family co-operative group, the members hunting together and dividing the spoils.
   The chief member, or head, of a boat's crew, is called "boat-master" (a3ttw-e/rmecin), and is the owner of the boat. He constructs the skin boat through the efforts of his own small family, that living in his house. For this he has to prepare, in the first place, a big walrus-hide and a sufficient quantity of fresh, strong thong. Then he collects the wood necessary for the frame, -- a rather difficult task on those treeless shores, -- or, if he is unable to find driftwood of the required quality, he may buy a ready-made frame, one of those which are made and sold on the American shore. The wooden boat-frame and also parts of it are highly valued among the Chukchee. They form objects of sale, are left as an inheritance, etc. If some part has deteriorated, it is replaced by a new one, and thus the frame may be kept in use for two generations or more. Walrus skins and thongs, on the contrary, are often changed, since every autumn, after the end of the sea-hunting season, the skin cover is taken off from the frame and kept separately.
   When the master of a boat is not rich enough to get all the material necessary for a skin boat, two or three of his nearest relatives, usually brothers or cousins, help him. Then they are all considered "boat's masters." The oldest of them sits at the helm and directs the hunting-expedition; but, if his luck in hunting does not seem very great, he may give up his place to one of the others.
   Whaling-boats are bought from the Americans or from local traders who deal with American whalers. Whalebone, fawn-skins (black or spotted), ready-made clothes of reindeer-skin, walrus-tusks, etc., are given in exchange for it. Since the value of a whaling-boat is considerably greater than that of a skin boat, being about twenty or thirty large slabs of whalebone, the purchase of such a boat is difficult for one man. Still the question is practically decided by the success in whale-hunting. If at least one good whale has been killed in a village, several families will be able to buy new whaling-boats the next summer. If not, no whaling-boats are bought.
   Some boat-masters take whaling-boats on credit from Kuva'r of Indian Point, and from other rich native merchants. The whole amount has to be paid in two or three years. Of course, these are only second-hand boats, several years old, generally all patched up, and consequently cheaper in price. Still, without a successful catch of whales, it is quite difficult to pay even for these.
   A man who has an extra boat often gives the use of it to some of his neighbors. It is contrary to the sense of justice of the natives to allow a good boat to lie idle on shore, when near by are hunters in need of one. In such a case a boat-crew is also formed, under the direction of one who is considered to be the boat-master, and responsible for the boat. Nothing is paid for the use of the boat, even when the hunt has been exceedingly successful ; as, for instance, when a whale has been killed. To pay for such use is believed to endanger the "hunting-luck." In the case of a very successful hunt, however, the boat-master will immediately buy the boat, and thus have it in his possession.
   To cite an example, Kuva'r told me that one year he was making a trip to St. Lawrence Island in a boat that belonged to one of his neighbors. On the way they had the very rare chance to kill a polar bear in the water. Polar bears in the Pacific are much rarer than whales, though they bring less. On returning home, Kuva'r kept the boat in his possession, and gave its owner another boat of his own, which was much larger and of better construction than the other. Kuva'r, it is true, is an Eskimo, but the same rule exists among the Chukchee. On the other hand, when a man has killed a whale for the first time in his life, he must sell his boat and buy another. When I asked for the reason of this custom, the natives explained that it was a kind of sacrifice to the killed whale. The owner gives away the boat that has helped to kill the whale, and takes another, "still innocent."
   The boat-master sits at the helm. This is the place of honor, and his by right. Among the Russians and the Russianized natives of the Kolyma, Indighirka, and other polar rivers, the place of the master is always with the hand on the helm. Even when a local trader travels on the river with hired assistants, he sits at the helm. He who leaves this place to another man, and sits idly in the middle of the boat, is considered effeminate.
   The Chukchee families are so small, that the eight or six members of the crew may belong to four or even five families. Moreover, a father and son often count as but one paddler, because they replace each other. The elderly father goes only on the shorter trips; the son, on the long autumn expeditions, when the sea is rough and the cold severe. Among the families that form the boat's crew, besides the relatives, may also be included the families of friends, of close neighbors. All such families have their houses in the same part of the village. They act in friendly accord in most cases; for instance, in their trade with whalers, or in winter expeditions with dogs. The boat-crew forms an element of social life more or less lasting. "This village has three boat-crews," say the natives. I was told, for instance, that in the village of Iñe'en, in the last epidemic of measles, out of three boat-crews, only one was left. The two others had died out. Membership in a boat's crew does not establish permanent obligations, however. Occasionally a man may, after the season is spent, leave one boat's crew, and, when summer comes again, join another; or, more frequently, if he has had good luck, he may construct or buy a boat of his own and form a new boat's crew from among his relatives and friends.
   A boat's crew, and a boat's master at the head of it, exist also among the Asiatic Eskimo. The master of the boat is called umia'lik (from u'miak, "boat"). The same institution seems to exist everywhere among the American Eskimo. The term umia'lik for the master of the boat is used on the whole Arctic coast of America, from Point Barrow {Murdoch, Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 428.} to Greenland. {Rink, p. 25.} Murdoch calls the umia'lik a regular and wealthy aristocratic class. Rink says only that the owner of a boat is considered as chief of the family. The masters of the boats of the Maritime Chukchee and Asiatic Eskimo, notwithstanding their rights of ownership in the boats, cannot be called an aristocratic class and their influence in social affairs is very limited. I shall speak of this in more detail when treating of the Asiatic Eskimo.
   Distribution of Products of the Hunt. -- The spoils of the hunt are divided as follows. Small seals are taken by those who have killed them. The Chukchee say that these seals do not form an important object of the hunt, because they may be killed singly, even directly from the shore: therefore they are not included in the common products. The master of the boat; however, is given a seal or two, even when he has killed none himself.
   The meat and the blubber of thong-seals and walrus are divided in equal portions among all the members of the crew. The heads are taken by the master, and the tusks of the walrus go with the head. In due time these heads figure at the ceremonial of heads. Then the walrus-tusks are divided among those families of the crew that consist of brothers and cousins of the master. The other members of the crew receive only a part of the blubber from "under the whiskers" of the walrus; i.e., from the fore-part of the muzzle. In dividing the hides of the walrus, the master takes that of the first one caught; the man at the prow takes the second; and the following hides are taken by the paddlers, one after another. If the number of walrus killed is too small, the distribution may be continued in order the next year. Often, however, walrus-hides are split on shore, and the number of the shares is thus doubled. With thong-seals, whose hides are used for thongs and boot-soles, and also form one of the principal articles of value in trade or exchange with the Reindeer people, the rule of distribution is somewhat more complicated. When thong-seals are abundant, each man takes a hide, beginning with the master. When they are scarce, the middle part of each hide is cut up and wound into two rolls of thong of medium thickness. The rest of the hide is cut into eight parts and distributed among the crew as material for boot-soles. The thongs are given to the men one after another, beginning with the master, as described. In modern times, instead of this rule of distribution, the hides of thong-seals are often taken by those hunters who have killed the respective animals, which are thus excluded from the common stock. This new way is not approved by public opinion; still it is more and more frequently adopted.
   With the whale, the meat, as has been mentioned, belongs to the whole village, generally to whoever wants to take part in the carving. The bones of the jaw are taken by the one who first noticed the whale. The whalebone is divided equally among all the participants of the hunt, and is distributed by the master, who reserves the best and longest slabs for himself. The man who dealt the mortal blow, usually the one who sits at the prow, has the right to choose his portion next after the master. When the boat comes ashore, the master will take some of the smaller slabs, which are not used in trade, and distribute them among the onlookers.
   I was told that in former times, as many as fifty years ago, after each successful catch, a large part of the best whalebone was distributed among all the inhabitants of the village. The price of the whalebone was lower, and whales more abundant. The rich people had also an old supply not yet sold to the Americans. At present good whalebone is too valuable and rare to be thus distributed. This last information was given me by a native, for my guidance. In most cases, however, the whale is killed, not by a single boat, but by two, three, or several boats. One of the boats, that has acted foremost, is considered as the "principal boat," the others are only "assistant boats." Then the whalebone is divided along the middle line into two equal parts, which are called "whalebone-sides" (ti'nqäl). The principal boat takes one half. The other half is divided among the assistant boats; and each boat distributes its portion among its crew. When a whale has drifted ashore, the meat and blubber are carved and taken by all present; but the whalebone belongs, as a rule, to the one who first noticed the whale. "Be it a small girl five years old, she must take all the whalebone," thus say the Chukchee. "To act otherwise is a great wrong: he who takes the bone contrary to rule will surely die."
   The same rule holds for the skin of a polar bear killed on shore. The one who first notices the animal takes the skin. Notwithstanding these rules, in actual life, the distribution of the whalebone of drifting or stranded whales leads to much quarrel and strife. Each one pretends that he noticed the whale first.
   In the villages which I visited during the last ten years, no whale had drifted ashore that had whalebone fit for trade. There were some carcasses of animals killed by American whalers, who take only the whalebone, and leave the huge body floating in the ocean. Other stranded whales were of species with short white slabs, which have no trade value, so that the question of distribution of whalebone during all this time did not appear in a practical form.
   Dr. Franz Boas says about similar regulations among the Central Eskimo, "A bear or a young seal belongs to the man who first sees it, no matter who kills it. A ground-seal belongs to all men who take part in the hunt, the skin especially being divided among them. A walrus is cut up at once into as many parts as there are hunters, the one who first struck it having the choice of the parts, and receiving the head. A whale belongs to the whole settlement, and its capture is celebrated by a feast." {Franz Boas, Central Eskimo, p. 582.} As to the rights of the first finder, Dr. Rink says about South Greenland, "In South Greenland, where bears are rarely seen, it is said, on a bear being killed, it belongs to whoever first discovered it, setting aside altogether the person who killed it." {Dr. H. Rink, p. 29.} As to the rarity of polar bears, the Pacific villages of the Chukchee and Asiatic Eskimo are exactly in the same condition as South Greenland, for bears do not often stray into these regions.
   The winter hunting on the ice is carried on individually. Still, a man who has killed a walrus or a thong-seal takes the whole carcass only in case he is all alone on the ice. If others are present, each onlooker has a right to take a part. Usually, when a man has killed one of these animals, all those who have noticed his good luck start on the run for the place of killing. The rule of distribution is as follows: Of a thong-seal, the hunter takes the hide, the head, and both shoulder-blades; the first-comer takes the pelvis; the second-comer, the right hind-leg; the third-comer, the left hind-leg; the fourth one, the brisket; the fifth, the lower ribs, with a corresponding slice of blubber all around the body; the other ribs are divided among the other claimants. The last-comers receive some piece of fresh meat of the animal. All this, of course, occasions much strife and even scuffling. If only one comes, the animal is simply cut in two, the hunter taking the upper part, and the other man the lower part. Carvings in bone, of the Chukchee and Eskimo, often represent such halves of the thong-seal, accurately cut off and loaded on a sled, ready to be conveyed to the shore. Of walrus, the hunter takes the hide, the head, and the backbone, with all the fat of the back. All other meat and fat are divided among all those present. The choicest morsels are given to the older men.
   The principle of competition by running is in vogue also, under similar circumstances, among the Reindeer Chukchee. For instance, if several men are walking together, and one of them notices from afar a mammoth tusk protruding from the ground, as sometimes happens on the tundra, they all start running towards it. He who arrives first may take the find. This, too, leads to a scuffle, and even to murder. The same principle of rushing and grabbing whatever comes first to hand, is applied in the ceremonial of wild-reindeer heads. {Compare p. 380.}
   Paupers. -- Families of paupers without friends or relatives are met with in the Maritime villages much more frequently than in the Reindeer camps. Maritime life is much harder, more subject to the danger of death when the hunt is going on, and to the fear of hunger when it has ceased, or has been stopped by storm. The village is more thickly populated, and the family-connection of the Maritime people is closer than among the Reindeer men. Still the charity shown by the Maritime people to their neighbors is much greater than is the case among the Reindeer men; so that poor families may support themselves through gifts received from other, better situated families of the village. A successful hunter, on coming ashore, is met by widows and orphans, to whom he throws down some morsels of the meat he has brought. Then perhaps he will even send a piece or two to those of his near neighbors who for some reason were absent from the shore. Even in times of hunger, the poorest family will receive at least a little, until death by starvation threatens the whole community. Then the last morsel is kept by everybody for his own housemates. In this of course there is much difference, according to the temper of the giver. "Bad men give nothing," say the Chukchee. "Give at least to the nearest door."
   The tales, however, are full of descriptions of poor families that could get nothing from their bad neighbors, and nearly died from hunger. I will only mention the very popular tale about the orphan, which is known also among the Eskimo, Asiatic and American.
   "In a maritime village were many houses. A scabby orphan lived in the last rear house all alone by himself. He found a lone old woman, always hungry, and said to her, 'Be at least my grandmother.' Then they lived together, all the time without food. Then the people killed a whale. The old woman said to the orphan, 'Go and ask them for some meat "from under the flipper." (The meat from under the flipper is considered to be of poor quality, tough to eat.) The people are coming back, all of them are carrying meat.' He went to meet them. 'What do you want?' -- 'Grandmother says, "Ask them for some flipper."'--'Nay, ask from those who are behind.' He went on farther. 'What do you want?' -- 'Grandmother says, "Ask for some flipper."' Every one repulsed him. Instead of giving him anything, they beat him. Then the Merciful Being took mercy on him, and the hindmost one gave him three small pieces of meat as large as a finger. These he put into three blubber-holes, and all were miraculously filled with meat. Then they felt happy, and hurried to cook some meat in a kettle. The neighbors noticed the smoke. 'Oh, what are the Scabby-Ones doing, cooking meat?' They rushed into their house, took the meat out of the kettle, and carried it out."
   The tale proceeds to describe how the scabby orphan, under the protection of the Merciful Being, became a very strong, good-looking young man. He found much wealth, and at last married a young, pretty girl.
   Then those who had but recently practised violence on him, came and said, each of them, "You are my nephew, you are my cousin." But he pushed them away and answered, "I am not yours, I am a stranger. I am an orphan. You have beaten me all the time."
   Then he and his wife left the village altogether, and went to another place. The people of the village, however, were unsuccessful in hunting, and could find no food. The marrow of their bones was all dried up; and soon they died, every one of them. The orphan founded a living-place, and his family increased in number and became a village. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 118.}
   In another tale it is said, that an old woman lives with her little son at the end of a village. She has nothing to eat, and asks the neighbors for some liver of the sea-animals they kill on the hunt. At last they are weary of the old woman. They kill her boy, take his liver, and give it to her in place of the liver of the seal. She does not recognize it, and roasts a portion of it over her lamp. {Compare p. 295.}
   Though both tales decribe hard life and cruel doings, still they show that the existence of poor old women and orphans, strange and friendless, is possible in the Maritime village.
   The tales of the Reindeer Chukchee, when describing an orphan, represent him as persecuted by a step-mother in his own family. He leaves his camp and wanders among the neighboring camps as an "idle wanderer," or goes away to a distant country in search of a fortune. The social life of the Reindeer people evidently has no place for him in his native land.
   Various authors, when describing the social life of the American Eskimo, mention with praise their friendliness to those not able to provide for themselves. Hans Egede says, "They do not let those people starve, but admit them freely to their table." {Hans Egede, Description of Greenland (English translation, London, 1745), p. 127.} Dr. Franz Boas says of the Central Eskimo that poor men are adopted by strange families. Particularly bachelors without any relatives, cripples who are not able to provide for themselves, or men who have lost their sledges and dogs, are found in this position. Nor are these men less esteemed than the self-dependent providers. {Franz Boas, Central Eskimo, p. 581.} All this presents great similarity to the customs of the Maritime Chukchee. Still it would seem that the consideration of the Maritime Chukchee for their poor does not extend so far as it does among the American Eskimo.
   Wanderers. -- The wandering type among the Maritime Chukchee is different from the "idle wanderer" of the Reindeer people. The Reindeer Chukchee move about the country with their houses and herds. This slow wandering is their normal state of life, but its range is not very wide, -- from forest-border in the winter, to the tundra in the summer, then back to the same places. Longer journeys are undertaken with a travelling-tent, a set of pack-sledges, and a small herd, which, after all, is but little faster than the usual way of travelling. A single man, with a couple of driving-reindeer and no luggage at all, may make a very fast trip of a hundred miles or more. Then he must stop in the house of some reindeer-breeder and put his coursers into the herd of his host, in order to give them a good rest. Thus the Reindeer Chukchee, in all his movements, is closely attached to house and herd. Therefore a man who has none, and tries to wander about with no particular aim, is an "idle wanderer," a kind of social outcast and pariah.
   Maritime people are settled in permanent villages; and for this very reason -- that the villages are never moved -- they have to leave them frequently, and make long journeys in various directions. Moreover, they live on the seacoast, and the sea induces the people to travel, and at the same time makes travel easier. Many of them are given to trade, which makes constant wandering necessary throughout their lives. Therefore wanderers without any special purpose in life are more frequent, and are treated with no such harshness as among the reindeer-breeders. Chukchee tales of Maritime provenience often describe a man who, from a mere desire to see distant and unknown lands, has left his native place, and has gone far away. He travels in summer with a boat, and in winter afoot. Perhaps this last is due to Eskimo influence, because the Eskimo of America really travel afoot. The Maritime Chukchee, in actual life, travel in winter by means of dog-sledges. A man of a restless nature takes some five or six dogs, attaches them to a small sledge that has been broken and mended in several places, and leaves his village, sometimes all alone. With this sledge he goes from one village to another, passes from the Arctic shore to the Pacific, and vice versa. In the summer time he joins some large skin boat, going a hundred miles or more for trading-purposes. Trading-boats, in summer, are often short of hands, and an extra paddler is very welcome. While staying in villages, in the middle of the journey, the wanderer may take part in some hunting-expedition, and get his share of the booty. Some enlist on American whaling-ships, go with them northwards as far as Point Barrow, and farther on, roam to San Francisco, visit southern islands, then come back to their village, bringing no property, and having no care of the future.
   Hospitality. -- The Maritime people are also much more hospitable than the Reindeer men. Each traveller passing through a Maritime village will receive food for himself and his dogs for one or several days. No pay is requested. Of course the traveller is supposed to have some wares or provisions brought from foreign countries and thus welcome to the people of the village. He may have tea and tobacco, reindeer-tallow, or American brandy. He is expected to give some of these to be added to the daily fare of the house he stops in. Still usually he gives but very sparingly, often only "just enough to smell," as the Chukchee say. The same rule exists among all the peoples of northeastern Asia that travel with dogs: in Kamchatka and on the Anadyr, on the Lena, Kolyma, and Indighirka Rivers; on the shore of the Okhotsk Sea, among natives as well, as among the Russian Creoles. Without such hospitality, journeying with dogs would be impossible, because the little dried food one can carry on the sledge must be kept for halts in the open country, and for other special occasions. Therefore people who live along some well-visited route have to provide food, not so much for themselves as for possible guests; and the amount required for the latter is more than that required for the people themselves. Thus the inhabitants of the village Mi's.qän -- which lies on the route from Indian Point to the mouth of the Anadyr, and, moreover, represents the last inhabited point before crossing the long and lifeless tundra, -- often have to feed some twenty complete dog-teams, with more than two hundred animals. Mi's.qän has only three houses: so this hospitality becomes a heavy burden. The same may be said of those few Chukchee families who live on the Middle Anadyr, exactly halfway between Markova and the mouth of the river. Each of these families slays every summer about three hundred wild reindeer while they are crossing the river; but the greater part of this large quantity of meat is consumed by the dogs of Russian Greoles passing to and fro for trading-purposes. Every time I asked people in Mi's.qän or in Under-the-Cliffs, on the Middle Anadyr, as to the game obtained during the preceding season, they would invariably answer, "Enough for our wants, but too little for the passers-by." Then they would undertake some extra hunting in order to increase their supply; but no complaint was ever uttered by any of them.
   In other Maritime villages we were occasionally detained by a snow-storm for several days. All fuel had been consumed. We fed on raw walrus-meat. Still some fire was necessary to melt snow and to prepare the tea. In the more southern villages, on the coast of the Pacific Ocean cooking is done mostly, not with blubber, but with twigs from low bushes, small pieces of driftwood, dried grass, etc. Then the house-master would take an axe and break one of his sledges, or cut down one of the wooden house-supports at the risk of its tumbling down on our heads. When we remember how scarce wood is on the Arctic shore, and especially wood that is suitable for poles and house-supports, we can appreciate the real value of such a sacrifice. The few reindeer-breeders who live near the seacoast, scattered here and there among the Maritime villages, have learned some of this hospitality; but those living farther inland are very far from it.
   When travelling among the Reindeer Chukchee, I met with many unpleasant experiences, with much bad language, and with many threats. My property was stolen, and attempts at open robbery were even made by the masters of the camps in which we stopped for the night. Nothing of this sort happened to me among the Maritime Chukchee. Everything was safe; and we lived together peacefully, with one or two exceptions, of which I shall speak later on.
   The people are well aware of this difference in temper between the Reindeer and the Maritime people, and the latter are quite proud of their superiority. This seems the more remarkable, since the Maritime people are considered more daring and venturesome than the reindeer-breeders, which must really be the case, as their way of living requires more courage, presence of mind, and a more enterprising spirit.


   "Strong Men." -- The word "e'rmecin" was mentioned in the previous chapter as designating the master of the camp. It signifies literally "the strongest one," and is used with several other meanings, which are of course more or less closely related. These are "the strong man," "the warrior," "the influential man," "the violent man," "the robber." The Chukchee are conscious of the difference between the meanings of the word. For instance, a quotation from the tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons," given in the preceding chapter, {Compare p. 618. [639]} contains a pun founded on this difference of meaning. The Eskimo host says, "This is probably the well-known Reindeer Chukchee e'rmecin" (meaning warrior). Ele'ndi answers, "Not I. Only you are the real e'rmecin (meaning violent man), because by violence you so taught your neighbors that they do not dare to eat in your presence." But if this quotation shows a marked difference between the two meanings of the word, another quotation from the latter part of the same tale, on the contrary, points out the common element of all these notions, -- warlike strength. "Oh, oh!" says the father, after his young son has made a very successful shot, "then I have created a future violent man, a robber of the herds of all other people, a warrior I have created. I am a good man."
   In the original text the word "e'rmečin" was used in all three cases. War and warriors belong to the past life of the Chukchee tribe. Therefore they are described only in tales and other narratives of the same character. In modern life, by "e'rmecin" is meant, first of all, a man of great physical strength, daring temper, and adventurous disposition. Men with such qualities may be met among the Chukchee, both Reindeer and Maritime. Such, for instance, was one of my Kolyma acquaintances, Tumgänê'nti by name. He was of Maritime origin, but lived among the Reindeer people from early youth. Tumgänê'nti was a man of tall stature and athletic build, and experienced in all kinds of sports, wrestling, running, racing with reindeer. When I met him, he was about forty, and more or less quiet; but his previous life had been quite eventful. Being of Maritime origin he has visited most of the Arctic villages, and quite a number of camps on the route between East Cape and the Kolyma River. He tried to be a trader; but he squandered most of his wares, and had to give up his attempts. Two or three times he was the owner of a large herd, but each time it was gone again after a year or two. He was much given to drink; and when drunk, his temper was quite dangerous. Thus he was said to have killed on different occasions three men in drunken brawls or in more serious quarrels. He had also quarrels with Russian Creoles, and occasionally gave many of his Russian friends a good thrashing. The Cossacks, after one of these quarrels, in their turn, gave him such a solid thrashing, that he was near unto death, and only his strong constitution enabled him to survive it. Last, but not least, he changed wives several times, and, notwithstanding his forty years, had much success among young women and girls, and was welcomed as a group-marriage companion by many Chukchee matrons between the Kolyma and the Wolverene River.
   Of the same type were two brothers, Čêpa't and Qančiu', from the so-called Kavra'lin traders. {Compare p. 12.} It has been related before that the Kavra'lin traders are of Maritime origin, but have reindeer of their own, and travel all their lives between the Maritime villages and the Reindeer camps, carrying sealskins and thongs, beaver-skins and marten-skins, and also American rifles, knives, etc., and exchanging them for fawn-skins and ready-made clothes of reindeer-skin, also for Russian brick-tea and leaf-tobacco. I have met the two brothers several times at the yearly Anui fair. Both were men of tall stature and of considerable physical strength. Čêpa't was said to have killed several men. Qančiu', on the other hand, had lost one eye in a scuffle, and bore deep scars on his breast, the results of old knife-wounds. The brothers were widely known among the Reindeer camps of the Anui country, also among the Russian traders and Cossacks. They came usually with abundant means for purchases, but a good part of their property was spent in buying brandy. They themselves drank and treated others to drink. Čêpa't was the cause of the brawl mentioned before, {Compare p. 45.} which took place in 1895.
   The chief officer of the Kolyma did not go that spring to the Anui fair. Instead, his assistant went, a man quite new to the country, who did not know the methods of Chukchee trading. He brought with him some Cossacks from Sredne-Kolymsk, who were but little acquainted with the Chukchee, and gave them strict orders, first of all, to stop the sale of strong liquors. This would have been quite praiseworthy; but, at the same time, almost all traders, men and even women, and among others the commanders of the Cossacks, {The office of a so-called "private commander" (частный командиръ) is one of the positions of noncommissioned officers in the Yakut Cossack regiment. Each Cossack detachment in the small polar towns has at its head a "private commander." Sredne-Kolymsk has one, Nishne-Kolymsk has another: so at the Anui fair there were two of them.} brought a quantity of liquor for sale to the natives. It was labelled as "destined for private use." The assistant officer then ordered the Cossacks to take away all brandy seen in the hands of the Chukchee. On the next day, after the .order was given, Čêpa't, who had been drinking in the morning, came into the Russian fort and met a group of Cossacks. Then he took out from his bosom a bottle of alcohol, showed it to the Cossacks, and said tauntingly, "There, you Cossacks, come and take it from me." One of the commanders of the Cossacks came, and suddenly wrenched the bottle from Čêpa't's hand. Then he spilled the contents on the snow. Now, to spill brandy on the ground is considered in those countries perhaps worse than to spill blood. Čêpa't grew angry and gave the offender a box on the ear, which sent him spinning to the ground. A scuffle ensued. Čêpa't was arrested, and another Chukchee was killed by the Cossacks. I saw Čêpa't being dragged by several Cossacks to the block-house which was to serve as a temporary prison. He had blood on his face, but his spirits were quite undaunted. One of the Cossacks (the "private commander" of Sredne-Kolymsk) drew his revolver and pointed it at the prisoner's breast. He said, "I will kill you this instant, you dog!" -- "Do it!" retorted Čêpa't in his usual tone. "I am not afraid, and you are a bad one." All the natives were expelled from the fort, and the gate was closed; but a number of Chukchee came to the fence, headed by Qančiu', Čêpa't's brother. Very soon the Russians saw that it was necessary to free Čêpa't. Some of them invited him to make excuses to the commander of the Cossacks for the blow, but he flatly refused to do so. "You are all bad," he said quite openly, "Leave me alone." Then he jostled away the nearest Cossack, and was gone.
   These men were of Maritime origin, but the Chukchee who was killed in the scuffle was a Reindeer man. He was from the Chaun River, had some influence over his neighbors, but even by them he was called "bad." The day before his death he came to the fort and boldly tried to rob a Russian creole of some iron knives and spear-heads. This was prevented, but he was left unmolested. The next morning he was first to take part in the brawl after the arrest of Čêpa't. Then the Russians, in their turn, saw their chance, took advantage of it, and he was killed.
   Akimlu'kê, from the Wolverene River, was also a reindeer-breeder of the e'rmečin type. He was good at all kinds of sport, quick-tempered, dexterous, and none of his neighbors cared to pick a quarrel with him. The influence of a Reindeer Chukchee e'rmečin among the neighboring camps, however, is of a rather indefinite kind, because each camp lives its own independent life, and has little to do with any of the others.
   In the Maritime villages, where the people live in closer contact, the influence of an e'rmečin is more real. When passing with our dogs through the Chukchee village Valka'Lên, we wanted to rest our teams, and therefore made a stay of two days. One of the inhabitants, Ča'nla by name, made our acquaintance, and offered to sell us a large bag of seal-blubber, with which to season the food of our dogs. Being Russians and considered as "rich," we had to buy the larger part of the food for our dogs. The poorer men usually get it from their hosts without pay. Moreover, we fed our dogs better than the Chukchee usually do, and therefore were in need of a larger quantity of food. We paid for food with compressed tea and leaf-tobacco in very moderate proportion, as is usually done in such cases. Ča'nla, however, wanted no tea or tobacco. He wanted to buy the leader of one of our dog-teams, a white female, uncommonly large, whose name was Arrow. Russian dogs are highly valued among the Maritime Chukchee. In payment for the dog, he offered a beaver-skin, two fox-skins, and this bag of blubber. The peltries were not as yet in his possession; but he intended to acquire them in the course of the summer from the Alaskan Eskimo traders, and promised to deliver them on our return journey in a couple of months or so. The owner of the dog, who was one of my Cossacks, refused to sell it on credit. Then Ča'nla, offended at this lack of confidence in him, took back his bag and returned to his home. Shortly afterward it appeared that we could not buy any other food in that village. "Ča'nla is the e'rmečin," explained the inhabitants, "and he says 'no traffic!'" So our dogs had but a scanty meal, given by the master of the house we stopped in. In the end we had to yield; and the dog was handed over to Ča'nla, who, by the way, in due time faithfully delivered the promised peltries.
   We took the bag with blubber, and also a quantity of walrus-meat from the other inhabitants, and everything was smoothed over. When I asked some of the people afterwards whether the word of Ča'nla was really of such weight with them, they answered, "He is our neighbor and a great wrestler." Ča'nla was not yet thirty. He was tall of stature and strongly built. lie wore breeches adorned all over with red tassels, {Compare p. 287.} and held himself always ready for a wrestling-match. The house we stopped in was the "front house;" and the master of it was richer than Ča'nla, though the influence of Ča'nla seemed to be greater among the inhabitants. I should mention, however, that in the Maritime villages, as a usual thing, the strongest man is also the richest, because, on account of his physical resources, he is more successful in hunting than others. Moreover, the front-house family is generally the strongest and the richest, and its head plays the e'rmečin among the other people. From this also sprang the maritime term for the front house, a'rmači-ran ("the house of the strongest"). Among the Reindeer Chukchee, wealth in reindeer does not depend so much on physical strength, and there are cases where the "strongest man" is also the poorest, as will be shown presently.
   "Violent Men." -- In the sense of "violent man," "robber," the term "e'rmečin" is used as much by the Reindeer Chukchee as by the Maritime; but as to the social position of the "violent men," I would call attention to a very interesting difference between both branches of the tribe.
   The most prominent among the "violent men" of the Reindeer Chukchee is the poor assistant, who uses his physical advantages as means of violence against the "front" family of the same camp. I will relate a very characteristic story, which happened in the Chaun country in the year 1894, and was told to me by a man who knew the participants. I give it in his own words: --
   "A reindeer-breeder lived in a lone camp in the middle of the tundra. He had an assistant in the camp. This man, Amonai'hin by name, had a wife with a very active tongue. He was a great e'rmecm, but a poor herdsman, too lazy to run around the herd. Therefore the mastejr almost stopped slaughtering reindeer for him. In reality, the master said to himself, 'This one is quite worthless.' Moreover, Amonai'hin did not like to listen to remonstrances, and the master felt uncomfortable about telling him anything. Then Amonai'hin's wife began to reproach him. 'We suffer from hunger, living with such a wealthy reindeer-breeder. We are just on the verge of dying a shameful death. I say, I should have him killed.' At first the husband would not listen. At last, however, he paid attention to these words. Then he followed the master to the reindeer-herd. They remained together with the herd. There was a hill there. The assistant said, 'Let us climb the hill and look around for better pasture.' -- 'All right,' said the master. They climbed the hill. The master walked in front, and the assistant a little behind. Amonai'hin caught the master from behind. He had a knife ready in his sleeve. With this knife he cut open his master's abdomen. Then he loosened his grip: and the wounded master tried to run, but fell to the ground. Amonai'hin left him there, still alive, and went home. The night passed. Not until morning did he say to his wife, 'Well, I have finished with my quarry. Now it is your turn to do something with yours.' The wife said, 'Ugh, do it all!' -- 'Nay, but your plain words were, "Let every one of us have a quarry of his own."' The woman sighed. 'Then let it be so!' She sharpened her knife, and hid it in her sleeve. Then she went to the front house. The woman of the front house, who was a girl, was making fire. She stabbed her from behind, but could not kill her, the girl being a shaman. Therefore the murderess cut all the ligaments on her arms and legs. The girl became bereft of all power of motion. Her little brother, who still wore a combination-suit, tried to flee. The murderess ran after him and stabbed him. Then she broke the front house, cut to pieces all the poles and sledges, and made of this wood a large pile, adding some branches of bushes. After that she put the two bodies on the pile, and they were burned. Amonai'hin appropriated the herd.
   "The air was quite motionless, as is often the case in spring. The smoke rose upward in a long column, and was seen from afar. The Maritime traders travelling with dogs happened to pass by just at this time, and saw the smoke. So they turned in to see, and beheld the pile. Amonai'hin felt uneasy. He could not even deny anything. 'Well, well, such a thing has happened here. Maybe I shall also slay both of you. Truly, you would not be able to hold your peace, would you?' -- 'Oh, yes! we should.' They began to make bows to him quite low, as to a great officer. 'We shall keep quiet. Only give us some provisions.' They spent a night there. All the time they talked in this way. The next morning he slaughtered reindeer and gave them as much as their dogs could carry. When they came home, they caused a great sensation with their tale. The next year the kinsmen of the slain man found the murderer and slew him. His wife and his son were left untouched. The woman's name is Tñe-čei'vuñe." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 21.}
   In another case of a similar kind, the assistant, with the aid of his cousin, killed the master of the camp. Then he staid with the family of the slain man and slaughtered reindeer for his own use. For a long time the murderer slaughtered their reindeer, until the family became quite poor, and finally lost their entire herd. Then he left them and went elsewhere. {Ibid., p. 31.}
   The folk-stories also contain similar cases. Most characteristic is one described in the tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons:" --
   "The Eskimo slave whom Ele'ndi made his assistant in the camp at last perfidiously succeeded in leaving his master on a lone island in the open sea. Then he came back and took possession of all his wealth. He ceased to be a good assistant, and spoke with his old harsh voice.
   "He remained in the sleeping-room the whole time, and defecated there in a chamber-vessel. The wives of the master refused to live with him; they did not enter the sleeping-room, but staid on the beach, weeping. The next morning the slave said to the boys who went to the herd, 'Bring me tomorrow a young fawn that has recently shed its coat. My excrement has a bad odor from this old, tainted meat. From now on I will feed only on reindeer-tongues.' They thought, 'He is going to kill us,' so they brought the fawn.
   "The children wept every day in the herd. Each time when they brought a fawn, they asked one another, 'Will he chastise us, or not? Perhaps we have grown stronger by this time.'
   "Ele'ndi was miraculously saved by birds, and came to the camp. He met one of his wives in the open, and said to her, 'Go and say to the boys, "The next time when that one asks for a fawn, give for answer, 'You slave! Where have you gotten the habit of eating fawns and of feeding on tongues?"" Hearing this, the Eskimo roared with anger. He bounded out from the inner room quite naked. The woman said to him, 'At least put on your breeches!' He put on his breeches. Then he caught the handle of a scraper and pursued the boys. But Ele'ndi suddenly sprang upon him, caught him from behind, and shortly afterwards made him die a cruel death." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 349.}
   I know of no cases in actual life among the Maritime Chukchee, similar to those described above, and occurring among the Reindeer people. It seems that, on the whole, the Maritime Chukchee, though more daring in character, are of a more peaceful disposition than the Reindeer-breeders. "Nothing ever happens among us," the people in the Chukchee and Eskimo maritime villages told me, "though we have no officers. At times of drinking, some of those who do not drink act like your police, and quiet down those who become aggressive, even binding them if necessary." Among the Maritime people I have even met men who refused to drink brandy; while among the Reindeer-breeders such a thing is almost unknown, even among the women, with the exception of those in the most remote parts of the country, on the border-line of Kamchatka, where no brandy has ever been sold. On the whole, the Reindeer Chukchee drink less than the Maritime Chukchee, because brandy is more scarce with them; but drunken brawls happen among them much more frequently.
   In the folk-stories of Maritime provenience, however, "violent men" appear quite often; and, in contrast to the Reindeer stories, the violent man is, for the most part, the richest man of the village, the front-house master. He is successful in his hunt, and has plenty of provisions; but he refuses to give food to his poor neighbors, and this is the chief violence he does to them. Moreover, he beats them, turns them out of his house, and in every way and manner shows them his superiority and brutal contempt. The Eskimo of the Ele'ndi tale is described as such a character.
   In another tale, a "violent man" of the village is described as a very strong man. He goes to sea in a skin boat and kills walrus by the dozen. Then he ties them all behind his boat and paddles home, towing them along. When he comes near to the beach, he throws the end of a rope to the other people who are standing there, and roars, "Draw me up with the game!" If they are too slow, he chastises them afterwards. In a number of tales the owner of the front house is described as strong and violent; and the people of the rear house, as little old men, poor, but mild-tempered and hospitable. Among the occupants of the front house and the rear houses there exists a kind of estrangement, nearly a silent quarrel, which seems to the narrator to be something quite natural, understood per se. The second part of the story almost always contains the coming of some young hero, who vanquishes and chastises the "violent man," takes for himself the best of the peltries and hides, and leaves the rest to the poor neighbors. Thus, in the tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons," the victorious warrior severely chastises the vanquished front-house master, and then says, "Now, who has a grudge against him?" Every one comes forward. All kick him, because they are angry at him (even a mouse may have anger). Then the guest says, "Well, well, help me to arrange for my departure. You may take this house, with all its wealth, but the object of my request bring here instantly." They bring twenty large hides and twenty coils of thong. These he carries to his sledge. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 346.}
   In the Maritime folk-stories a "violent man" of poorer standing appears less frequently. He is strong but "lazy," and, instead of going himself to hunt, prefers to rob his neighbors of their game. One of these has two wives and only one big dog. When his neighbors go to the floe-ice to inspect their seal-nets, he waits on the shore; then, on their return, he takes from them one or two seals.
   I do not see how a thing like that could have really happened, unless in a very small village, where the hunters are so few that they cannot resist the assaults of one violent man. The tale, however, proceeds to describe how the neighbors, annoyed by the tribute, kill the "violent one." In course of time his little boy grows up and takes revenge on the murderers.
   Wars and Warriors. -- As already stated, the word "e'rmečin" is also used in the sense of "warrior." . Tales about past wars are numerous among the Chukchee, and form, to a certain degree, a separate division of folk-stories, which is called äqälile'tkin pi'ñilte ("[from those who led] war tidings"). Wars are described as a series of surprises, nightly attacks, and murders of the sleeping. In some cases, on the contrary, the attacking party openly defies the enemy, and invites them to come in equal numbers, so that both sides may be in an equal position. Thus, in the tale of "Ta'lo the Ta'n.ñin Nursling," the hero meets ten Ta'n.ñit, covered with armor, and kills nine of them with his small whalebone knife. The tenth tries to flee, but Ta'lo catches him by the back of his clothing. "Stay a while! I do not want to kill you, I want to ask you a question: How many people in your houses are fit for fighting?" -- "None. There are only old men and youngsters." -- "When will these youngsters become warriors? Shall I come next year?" -- " All right, come next year. Meanwhile they will grow and become stronger, some at least." The episode is repeated in other tales. I must mention also that the Chukchee are described as less perfidious, and as dealing more frankly with their enemies, than the other tribes; so that it would seem that treachery at least is not considered as one of the virtues of war.
   I was told that all kinds of incantations were used in war, but none have been preserved in the memory of the people. A tern (Tringa Temmincki) was considered to be a sentinel of the Chukchee tribe (či'čin, "looking one"), because, on the approach of the enemy, it would fly up with a warning cry. Therefore a party of warriors, when stopping for a night on the open tundra, would apply to that bird, and ask it to guard them against a sudden attack.
   A battle is a series of single fights. To be fit for fighting, every warrior undergoes hard training, and spends all his leisure in various exercises. The tales abound in descriptions of such exercises. The hero must run for long distances, drawing heavily-loaded sledges. He carries stones and timber, jumps up in the air, but, above all, he fences with his long spear. He performs this exercise quite alone; and the chief feature of it is the brandishing of the spear with the utmost force, so that it bends like a piece of raw reindeer leg-skin. He also practises shooting with the bow, and uses for this purpose various arrows, sharp and blunt. From all these exercises he acquires great skill and agility. He can kill twenty men, darting from one to the other with the swiftness of an ermine. When he is shot at, he avoids the arrows by springing to one side, or parries them all with the butt-end of his spear, or simply catches them between the fingers and throws them back. Only when quite exhausted from the fatigue of fighting, can he be wounded and vanquished.
   The best warriors of other tribes -- for instance, of the Yukaghir -- are described in corresponding tales as catching arrows between the fingers, and as avoiding the blows of the spear by the quickness of their motions. The Chukchee ideal warrior is so skilled in jumping that he is almost able to fly in the air with the birds. When paddling in a kayak, he keeps pace with a flying gull. His build is athletic. When lying on his back, he touches the ground only with his neck, buttocks, and heels, so thick and heavy are his muscles. A number of Chukchee warriors are described individually. The details of these descriptions will be given later on.
   Ta'n.ñin Wars. -- Tales of wars may be divided into two unequal groups. The larger group refers to the wars of the Reindeer Chukchee with Ta'n.ñit. These wars took place in the interior of the territory, and the Maritime people took little part in them. The smaller group refers to wars on the sea-coast between the Chukchee and the Eskimo. Several interesting stories belong to the first group, and some are even epic in character. The whole may perhaps be considered as an embryo of a Reindeer Chukchee epos.
   The Ta'n.ñit of these stories are either the Russian Cossacks, or more frequently, the Reindeer Koryak. The Reindeer Chukchee were obliged to defend themselves against the invasion of the Cossacks, and even succeeded in defeating Major Pavlutsky and his troops. {See Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 789, and Chapter XXIII of this volume.} Still the remembrance of this war is not so strong as might be expected; and the tales relating to it are mostly short, and poor in details. Those that relate to Koryak wars, on the contrary, abound in vivid episodes. Some of the tales relating to the wars with the Russians represent simply the stories of the Koryak war-cycle, changed and adapted to a new use. The details relating to the arms and the ways of the new enemy are inserted; but the Chukchee heroes are described in the same manner, and even their names are unchanged.
   War Heroes. -- I have already mentioned that in war-stories a number of warriors figure who are described individually. Their names are quite popular, and appear in various combinations. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, pp. 336 et seq.} All these belong to the Koryak war-cycle. The most remarkable thing is, that one of them is mentioned as the chief and leader. His name is Lau'ti-liwa'lin, which means "head-nodder." This name is given to him because he gives the signal for attack by a nod of his head. It is curious to know that this explanation is half-forgotten. Sometimes I received the answer that the name of Head-Nodder sprang from the habit of nodding his head while moving with reindeer over the rough ground of the tundra. The wars with Ta'n.ñit evidently tended to develop the office of a military chief, though the ordinary conditions of Chukchee life are too simple for such an institution. The development did not proceed very far; and as soon as the wars ceased, it vanished, and even the significance of the name was forgotten.
   Head-Nodder is described as one who gathers warriors for an expedition. His voice is thick and strong. When the women of a Ta'n.ñin fortress besieged by Chukchee hear his voice, they speedily kill their own children, and the young girls kill themselves. His companions are E3le'nnut and Aiña'irgin. The latter name means "the clamoring one," and even now is frequently met with among the Chukchee. E3le'nnut is described as the assistant of Head-Nodder. "Who will be my (in-the)-armpit-being-little-bird [čêe'čhi-va'lin pičê'kalhin]?" (i.e., "who will be my assistant?") asks Head-Nodder; and E3le'nnut answers, "I will be thy in-the-armpit-being-little bird." After that, they rush to the assault, shoulder to shoulder.
   In another story, "Who shall begin?" asks the little old man. "Let me be first," says Aiña'irgin. Head-Nodder nodded. "Yes, let it be you." -- "No, no!" exclaimed E3le'nnut, "let me do it! I am also quite a sharp point of the antlers of Head-Nodder. Let them break it first. Head-Nodder's antlers are full-sized."
   In still another story, E3le'nnut is described with the following details. "E3le'nnut has long arms: they hang down lower than the knee. His fists are like large round bowls made of the excrescences of a larch-tree. His hands are stronger than iron. E3le'nnut is higher by a head than all other people. His shoulders loom up in the middle of a throng, visible from afar, like the shoulders of the wild reindeer-buck in a Chukchee reindeer-herd. He runs in bounds over the deep snow, throwing up his legs. His track over the snow is not double, but forms only one line. He eats with great haste, gulping down piece after piece. All food is slippery for his throat. After battle he is found in the sleeping-room. He is lying there with a young woman. His legs are protruding from under the front part of the cover of the room. Only the trembling of his hind part is to be seen." Aiña'irgin, the Clamoring-One, is described as springing forward and clamoring for battle.
   To the same group of warriors belongs young Ci'mkil. He is of modest disposition. "There are four strong men," says the story, -- "Head-Nodder, E3le'nnut, Aiña'irgin, and Či'mkil. In front of Či'mkil sits his father. The strong man silently waits till the old man speaks his words."
   Of other warriors should be mentioned Nankacha't, -- "a big, heavy man, clad throughout in the hide of a thong-seal. The head of his spear is a cubit long. In the time of drifting ice on the Omva'an River, he lies down across the river and stops the ice. The drifting floes are stopped, his body forms a bridge, and the caravans of reindeer-sledges pass over him as on firm ground." These exaggerated details surpass the usual style of Chukchee description.
   In another tale he drives his spear into the bottom of the river. The moving ice is stopped. The ice forms a temporary bridge, over which pass the Chukchee caravans. The latter version comes nearer to the usual style of the stories.
   In still another tale appears the strong man A3ttimlu or A3mlu3, which means "bony face." He is called so because his face is quite hard. The arrows of the Ta'n-ñit cannot hurt it. E3le'nnut lives with him as a companion in group-marriage.
   "Bony-Face quarrelled with Head-Nodder, and slapped him on the head with his open hand. From this slap the other suffered throughout the summer. After that the offended one wanted to have revenge. He exercised for two consecutive years, in order to equal Bony-Face in strength. Then he called his brother and went to visit the offender. His brother's name was Yirkitowa'La3n; i.e., 'having soft buttocks.' Bony-Face proposed to pay them for the offence; first two thong-seal skins, then two beaver-skins; .but they refused. Then all four went out of the house. E3le'nnut sat down upon a sledge as an onlooker. Bony-Face turned up his sleeves. The two adversaries caught him from both sides. 'What! both of you?' -- 'Yes, both of us.' -- 'Ah, all right!' He caught them both by the nape of the neck and pushed them together face to face, then threw them upon the ground. The snow was covered with blood, as from a reindeer newly slaughtered. Then he turned away and entered his house again."
   The story breaks off at this episode. It is probably only a fragment of a fuller tale. The name Bony-Face is well known among story-tellers. They say that he was one of the strongest warriors; but all tales in which his name is mentioned are only short fragments. It is interesting to note that this tale represents Head-Nodder as no great hero, and even gives him a brother with the ridiculous name of Soft-Buttocks. The last name is formed perhaps in contrast to the hard cheeks of Bony-Face. Bony-Face vanquished them without difficulty at one time or another. Perhaps these tales are the reminiscences of some ancient local rivalries, or else an attempt at parody of the old traditions. In the parallel case of the Russian epic legends of ancient warriors, these have given rise to the formation of certain parodies, which are also quite ancient.
   Teme'ereč, or, in diminutive form, Temeere'čeqäi, is a young man light of foot and quick of motion. His parents were killed by Ta'n.ñit, and he was left a little orphan.
   "One time the Ta'n.ñit made inroads on the Chukchee territory. The people fled, driving with reindeer. The little boy was walking ahead. The first driver overtook him. 'Take me with you!' -- 'Let the rear drivers take you.' The rear drivers overtook him. 'Take me with you!' -- 'Let the last ones take you.' Then the very last one came to him. 'Take me with you!' -- 'No, let them that are behind take you! -- 'Ah me! There is no one behind.' {All this is only a variation of a well-known episode met with in the folk-stories of many peoples.}
   "The last man went away, and the boy was left alone. He followed the tracks of the drivers. A small boy he was, but a clever one. He carried in his hands a child's bow and one arrow with a copper head. The line of the pursuing Ta'n.ñit was approaching from behind, the strongest warrior was far ahead. The boy looked back and thought, 'What shall I do?' He ran and fell down, jumped up and ran again. The Ta'n.ñin warrior saw him running and jumped down from the sledge. Then he took off his armor and put it on the sledge, and also the spear. The spear was a very strong one. The handle was thicker than a man's arm. He ran, leading the reindeer by the bridle. The boy thought, 'This one will crush me with his nail as he would a little louse.' "He looked back again. The Ta'n.ñin warrior was getting nearer. In a few moments he would overtake him. The fur shirt of the Ta'n.ñin was very short: it hardly covered his abdomen. The boy shot his bow and wounded him in the abdomen. The warrior sat down upon the snow. 'Stop, boy!' said the warrior. 'Come here!' The boy was afraid to come. The Ta'n.ñim stood up, took the spear from the sledge, and put it on the ground. He also took off his armor and put it down. 'Come here! I will not hurt you. It is for your benefit.' Then the boy came. 'There, take the bow and spear and armor. Put on all of it, take the sledge, and drive on. Do not be afraid of our people. They will find my body and turn back, because I am the strongest.' {* This episode is popular among the Chukchee, and repeated in several stories. As to boys' taking part in fights, compare p. 552.}
   "After that the boy came home and lived with his uncle. He was growing fast, and all the time performing exercises. One time when the people arranged a reindeer-race, the young hero offered to draw his uncle's sledge, acting in place of a reindeer-buck. He prepared the sledge and attached the traces and put on the breast-collar. Then he said to his uncle, 'Put the bridle on me!' -- 'No need of it,' said the uncle. 'Go along!' He rushed forward. 'Wait, wait!' cried his uncle. 'The sledge jolts too much.' He put the bridle on the young man and took the reins. 'Now everything is all right.'
   "The trail was quite crooked. He said, 'Let us go straight ahead!' There was no trail. The snow was knee-deep; but he ran on as if there were no snow.
   "Then they came to the place where the race was to be held, and he outran all the drivers and took the prize. Afterwards, when fighting he used the bow and the arrow as he did in his boyhood. He shot all at once, and killed his adversary."
   Another hero, Ê'irgin, is also described as a young archer, light of foot and quick at shooting. Near the entrance of a narrow passage between the mountains, young Ê'irgin is standing. He is drinking water from a wooden bowl. He sees a Cossack warrior clad in full armor coming to him. "Drink your fill," says the Cossack. "That is your last drink on earth." The Cossack brandishes his spear. Ê'irgin takes his bow, and puts on the string a small arrow of whalebone. The face of the Cossack is covered all over with iron, only two holes are left for the eyes. He shoots and hits him in the right eye through the hole of the visor. The Cossack falls down and is taken prisoner.
   Other warriors are also mentioned, but they do not play an important role. Those whose names han been given are known in various parts of the Chukchee territory. I met families who claim descent from one or the other of these ancient heroes. "We count nine generations (sometimes eight, rarely less than that) from such and such a one," is the usual expression. "We trace our lineage." And the families with such a lineage claim a certain superiority over others, though by the other people these pretensions are but little heeded.
   The Ta'n.ñit of these tales are, as stated before, Reindeer Koryak. They are always described as very rich in reindeer, considerably more so than the Chukchee. They have certain fortresses (wui'wun, pl. wui'wut, a term used at present for single block-houses, and also villages of the Russians and Russianized patives, composed of such block-houses). It is not easy to understand what kind of fortresses these wui'wut may have been. The details of the description are insufficient to form any judgment. For instance: "Then the Ta'n.ñit shut themselves up in the wui'wun. They broke down another wui'wun, and covered the walls of the first with its wood. On the roof, near the vent-hole, is a second story. The best archers stand there and shoot downwards on the assailants." Perhaps it is simply the underground house of the Maritime Koryak, {See W. Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 454.} with the wooden storm-roof around the vent-hole. Such houses are quite suitable for use as strongholds. The Russian accounts of the wars with the Koryak, in the first half of the eighteenth century, mention quite frequently small fortresses in which the Koryak used to defend themselves, and which were taken by the Russians. The same may be said of the Kamchadal. All such fortresses, however, belong to the Maritime people.
   According to an oral communication of Mr. Jochelson, among the Maritime Koryak traditions still exist concerning the invasions and assaults of the Reindeer Chukchee. The Maritime Koryak had fortified villages. Such villages were placed on high cliffs, on narrow promontories and points of land, or on lone islands not far from the shore. Access was shut off by a stone wall or by wooden palisades. The Reindeer Koryak also prepared fortified places at points similar to those mentioned. The herd was gathered together and pent up in a corral made of sledges, or it was driven away to far-off pastures. The people remained in a chosen place behind the bulwark, ready to hold out. {See Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 795.} Some of the Kamchadal villages were also surrounded by bulwarks of stones or earth. On ancient village sites in northwestern Kamchatka I have still found the remnants of such bulwarks. They were in the form of a large quadrangle, with an entrance from the sea-side. Chukchee stories referring to the wars with the Cossacks also mention such fortified strongholds, built by the Chukchee. One story mentions that the Reindeer Chukchee fled from the Cossacks to a very remote place, and took up their position under a cliff. The Cossacks came and climbed the cliffs; then, pushing down heavy stones, they broke up the fort and exterminated the people. Some other people made a fort in the land Ne'ten, near Cape Pe'ek. They built it under an overhanging cliff, so that it was impossible to roll stones down upon it. In this fort they defended themselves with success against the Cossacks.
   Cossack Wars. -- The Cossacks, as related before, are also called Ta'n.ñit. The adjective mê'lhi ("fire-tool") {Compare p. 18.} is added but rarely. Among the Anadyr people the name qa'čak ("cossack") is also used. Qačau'mêl ("cossack-like") means also "badly, cruelly."
   One tale mentions the first impression of the coming of the Cossacks: --
   "When they first, came, our people were very much afraid of them, because they were of quite unknown appearance. Their whiskers stood out like those of the walrus. Their spearheads were a cubit long, and so broad that they obscured the sun. Their eyes were of iron, round and black. All their clothing was of iron. They dug the ground with the butt-ends of their spears, like angry reindeer-bucks, inviting our warriors to single combat."
   According to the Chukchee tales, the Russians treated the natives most cruelly, they exterminated the people, and murdered all prisoners; with their axes they cleft the men in twain, striking them between the legs; and they tore the women in two like dried fish. They would put a prisoner in a sitting position. Then they would put a rope around his neck, and the other end of this rope they would tie to his membrum virile. After that they would poke him in the face with a bar of red-hot iron. The man would bound up, and his membrum virile would be torn away.
   The Chukchee fled from the Cossacks in all directions. Then they came to a stand. Resistance was organized, which led to a successful repulsion of the invaders.
   Some of the tales describe the Russians with a manifest intention of derision.
   "There was a small girl Yi'nki-ñe'ut by name. Some people had gathered in a tent to perform a thanksgiving ceremonial. They darkened the vent-hole, and began to sing. Still they were not men, but dogs. Some sang, 'Koo, koo, koo!' Others howled, 'Koon, koon, koon!' {These sounds are represented as long, wailing, monotonous. They are intended to characterize the manner of singing of the white people. The Chukchee manner of singing is different, and consists of short, rolling, trembling, ever-changing sounds of guttural character. The Chukchee often say that the white people sing as dogs howl.} Then the house mistress said to the girl, 'Look there! Who are those singers? Why have they closed the entrance and darkened the vent-hole?' The girl found a crevice, and peeped through it. They were all dogs. The Chukchee people came hastily and gave them blows. The dogs fled to the, west and became Russian people. Some of them, however, remained dogs, and were used by the others for driving. Those that were beaten got angry at the blows and began a war. О dear! we did not know. Our people chastized the dogs, and they became a people." {Greenland tradition also mentions erkigdlit, fabulous and hostile inlanders with faces like those of dogs. Dall, Murdoch, and others translate this name as "children of a louse's egg" (Murdoch, Point Barrow Eskimo, p. 51). The Reindeer Chukchee call the Maritime dog-breeders, in a somewhat similar way, "born from dog-excrement."}
   A story like this, of course, could be found only among the reindeer-breeders, in opposition to the Russian dog-drivers.
   Almost all tales mention the name of Yäku'nnin, the chief of the Cossacks. This name is given to Major Pavlutsky. {Argentoff mentions the name Pavluchka as used in Chukchee traditions. I could not find this mentioned in the papers of Argentoff, but have met with it in an article in a Russian review, that related to one of my own papers. The article mentions that the paper by Argentoff in question here is very rare, and has appeared in Siberia. I have not come across the name Pavluchka in Chukchee stories and traditions. The Chukchee, upon the whole, are inclined to substitute for alien names new compositions of their own.} Its origin could not be ascertained. It is allied to the Russian name Яковъ, pronounced Yakov ("James"); but the first name of Pavlutsky was Theodore, not James. Yäku'nnin is described as strong and tall, clad in glistening iron, shining white like a large white gull (Larus argentatus). He stands before a crowd of Chukchee in full armor, springs up as high as the highest tree, and brandishes his spear. He has a step-son, or an adopted son, from the reindeer-breeding people, either Koryak or Chukchee, -- a good warrior, who aids Yäku'nnin in many ways. The defeat of Yäku'nnin is preceded by the misadventure of his assistant. In some versions the adopted son of Yäku'nnin, who is called Young Yäku'nnin, is taken prisoner and killed. In other versions, when taken a prisoner, he consents to commit treason, and brings Chukchee scouts to the Russian camp. In still other stories he gives information which makes it possible for the Chukchee to lay hold of the provisions of the Russians. Some of the details correspond in a certain degree to the real facts. Pavlutsky and his Cossacks, as well as many other Cossack expeditions, had an auxiliary detachment of Tungus, Chuvantzy, and even Koryak, driving reindeer and conveying food. They took part in the campaign half against their wills, and afterwards broke out in open mutiny, or simply left the Cossacks at an opportune moment. In the detachment of Pavlutsky there was even some quarreling among the Cossacks of local birth and the infantry that he brought along from Yakutsk. Local Russian tradition states that part of the Cossacks, annoyed at the hardships of an aimless and endless campaign, left Pavlutsky and returned to the Kolyma. As the leader of this act, the name of Krivogornizyn is mentioned, who was pyatidesyatnik (literally, "chief of fifty men," the second degree of commissioned officer in the Cossack regiment). During the time of my travels, a man of that name still lived on the Lower Kolyma, in the village of Pokhotsk, which is the centre of the ancient Cossack population. He was reputed to be a descendant of the "traitor." He was quite blind and extremely poor. The people said that he was being punished for the sins of his ancestor. In Chukchee tales Pavlutsky is represented as very cruel. The cruelties I mentioned before are all connected with his name. He is therefore given an additional name," Aqä-tei'ññilin Yäku'nnin" ("cruelly-murdering Yäku'nnin"). He wanted to exterminate the whole Chukchee people. When murdering people, he would gather up the fur caps of the killed men. Twenty sledges loaded with caps he sent to the Sun Chief (the Emperor). He said, "No more are left. I exterminated them all." The Sun Chief answered, "There are still numerous little birds hidden in the grass." -- "Then I will go and finish them." Therefore, when he is defeated and taken prisoner, the Chukchee, in their turn, torture him and put him to a cruel death. Russian and Tungus tradition also mentions that Pavlutsky was taken prisoner and tortured to death. He was wounded and fell to the ground; but the Chukchee for a long time could find no place in his armor through which to deal a mortal blow. Only when the armor was untied and opened, was be stabbed in the neck. Chukchee tradition says that he was wounded in the right eye, then killed with a knife thrust into the abdomen under a joint of the armor. Another version says that he was stripped of armor and slowly roasted over a big fire, and that the roasted meat was cut off piece by piece and thrown away. Still another version mentions that he was stripped naked and made to run around on the snow, being urged on like a young reindeer with a heavy wooden club tied to his head. {Compare p. 76.} All this time he was beaten with whips and tent-dusters, and every blow drew blood. So he died.
   A very interesting tale collected on the middle course of the Anadyr relates how two Reindeer Chukchee brothers, Ma'nê and Mana'qtun, fought against the Russians. Mana'qtun was taken captive. Ma'nê, in his turn, captured single-handed a Russian ship on which a great commander was travelling up the river. This was done in the following manner. At some rapids several Cossacks were walking along the shore, towing the ship. Ma'nê concealed himself among the bushes and awaited their approach. They were making great efforts, because the ship was very heavy, and they were unarmed. All their arms were aboard the ship. When they came quite near, Ma'nê rushed out and attacked them. They were nearly exhausted, and offered little resistance; so he killed them all with his spear. After that he seized the tow-line. The commander was alone in the ship, holding the rudder. Ma'nê held the tow-line." You there! All the arms that you have on the ship throw into the water. Otherwise I shall let go of the tow-line." The commander took all the rifles and long knives (swords) and threw them into the water, etc.
   All the details of this episode belong to an old Cossack tale which describes the early exploits of Yermak, the conqueror of Siberia, on the Lower Volga. The tale was carried by Cossacks to the Anadyr, then borrowed by the Chukchee and adapted to the description of their own heroes.
   I shall speak about the tradition relating to the conclusion of peace between the Chukchee and the Russians, and the beginnings of trade, in the last chapter of this volume.
   Maritime People, as stated before, took little part in the Ta'n-ñin wars. Tradition, however, mentions the dog-drivers now and then as joining the reindeer-drivers; but the dog-drivers are always represented as of little account. They come in at the end of the fighting, and are referred to in very few words. Moreover, it seems that the dog-drivers were not Maritime settlers, but only the poorest "of the inland inhabitants, who, owing to lack of driving-reindeer, travelled with dogs. In ancient times some of the inhabitants of the interior were poor in reindeer, and so kept some dogs.
   Eskimo Wars. -- The wars of the Chukchee with the Eskimo are preserved in the memory of the people with less distinctness, perhaps, because they are more ancient. In some tales a cruel and implacable war between two Maritime peoples is referred to. The one are described as the Chukchee; the other, according to the details of their material life, must be the Eskimo. They live by hunting seal, and have never seen a domesticated reindeer. They travel with dogs, and even these are few in number. Their houses are underground, and steadied from within with jaw-bones of whales. The people, however, are not the Eskimo: they are evil spirits (ke'let), and war with them is prosecuted chiefly by magic.
   In other tales dealing with the same subject, but of a less fantastic nature, two peoples also wage war against each other. These are the Reindeer men (Čawčuwa't, or Ča'wču) against the Ai'wanat, -- "those of this side" (wotênqa tkênat) against "those of that side" (En.ke'kinet); the westerners ("those coming leeward," eigi'sqilit) against the easterners ("those coming windward," aiva'La3t). {Compare p. 27.} Usually under the first name are understood the Chukchee, and under the second the Eskimo; but this is not quite certain. A large part of the Maritime people must have been Chukchee, even in ancient times; but their role in those wars is not represented with much distinctness. On the other hand, even among the Eskimo, those of the Asiatic shore, in contrast to those of St. Lawrence Island and to those of America, call themselves "Reindeer tribe" (Čawčuwa't), meaning by this that they are nearer to the reindeer-herds than "those of the other shore" (Ro'čhilit), and the name Ai'wanat, given to them by the inland reindeer-breeders, they apply in their turn to the people of the other shore. {The Chukchee name for St. Lawrence Island, Eiwhue'n, is probably connected with the name Ai'wan (cf. p. 27).} They give as a reason for this, that in their traffic with "those of the other shore," they offer the products of reindeer-breeding (reindeer-meat, fawn-skins, ready-made clothes of reindeer-skin), while "those of the other shore" bring the products of Maritime pursuits (seal-skins, thong, blubber). Though this is quite true, still the contrast is much exaggerated.
   One of the most frequent episodes of this tradition refers to a struggle between a Ča'wču warrior and a Maritime Ai'wan. In the summer-time the reindeer-breeder goes to the seashore, and finds there the Ai'wan carving a whale and hauling to the shore a quantity of walrus killed on a sea-hunt. The reindeer-breeder is longing for the sea-meat. He visits the Ai'wan, or sends to him some member of his family, and asks for blubber. In some versions the request is granted, and the Reindeer-man goes home peacefully with the object of his desire. Thus, for instance, in the tale of "The Happy Suitor," the hero visits the Ai'wan, and sees a walrus-carcass lying whole on the ground. He says, "I come for blubber!" They answer, "Here is the carcass: we will carve it, and cut a piece for you." He says, "Better not carve it. It is just a good carrying-load for my shoulder." -- "Oh, no! Will you be able to carry it?" -- "Oh, yes! if only you do not grudge it." He lifted the carcass on his shoulder and carried it home. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 253.}
   Much more frequently, however, the Ai'wan refuses the request. This refusal is contrary to the customs of arctic life, which require liberality on the part of a successful hunter, and, in case a whale has been captured, grant the right to everyone to take part in the carving of the meat. So after the refusal a wrestling-match ensues, in which the Reindeer-breeder vanquishes and kills the Ai'wan. Then he carries away the object of the strife. Thus, in the third chapter of the tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons," two sons of Ele'ndi send their old father to an Ai'wan neighbor to ask for some whale-skin. The Ai'wan, in derision, fills with blubber the upper part of the old man's breeches. The young men get angry and run to the place. A whale's carcass is lying on the beach. The Ai'wan's working-people are busy carving whale-meat. The two young men jump to the whale, and, raising their spears, drive away all the people. The Ai'wan calls to them, "Stop that! First kill me, then take my whale!" But they pay no heed to his words. He says, "Bring the requisites for a wrestling-match." A walrus-hide is brought, and also some thigh-bones of walrus. He spreads the hide upon the ground, breaks the bones into sharp-pointed splinters, and fastens the splinters all around the edge of the hide with points upward. Then he smears the hide all over with blubber. This done, he takes a stand in the middle of the hide, and calls out, "Come on!"
   The brothers are still carving whale-meat. They chop off piece after piece as large as a thong-seal carcass, flinging it over the shallow water towards the shore. The Ai'wan stands firmly, as if riveted to the ground. "Come on, you good-for-nothings! What kind of men are you!" The younger one made a leap high up to the shore. His feet hit just the middle of the hide. He stands there, as if glued to the spot. The Ai'wan says, "Who will begin?" -- "You begin!" -- "No, you begin, if you are the robber." -- "All right!" He wants to catch hold of the Ai'wan, but, no matter what he does, the other one stands his ground. He tries to grasp him by the neck; but it is stiff, like wood. He moves his hands all around him, takes his aim, and watches for an opportunity.
   All at once he sets his hand like an axe-blade, strikes him upon the neck; and the head is cut off and flies away, spinning like a top. The body is still standing. The Ai'wan's people are looking on in silence. The body falls down. The Ai'wan's wife flees to the open tundra. The Chukchee jumps back to his mate on the whale. When they have finished with the meat, they carry it home. Oh, what a load they carried! {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 351.}
   The details are quite popular, and are repeated in several tales. Some others are added; for instance, the victor simply cuts the whale-carcass in two, takes one half in each hand, and carries it home. Then he flings the pieces down upon the ground before his tent, and exclaims, "Here, eat your fill!"
   There is one very characteristic tale relating to the war between the Maritime people of this shore and those of the American side. {See Vol. VIII of this series, pp. 7 et seq.} It refers to the struggle between the people of Indian Point and those of St. Lawrence Island. Both are Eskimo; but the tale is popular among the Maritime Chukchee, and I collected it among them. I should mention that the other Asiatic point which is the nearest to the "shore of the other side," the village Nѳ'ѳkan, on East Cape, is also inhabited by Eskimo. East Cape and Indian Point, of course, served as starting-points in all the wars of Asiatic natives against those of the American shore.
   "Two men of Indian Point, one of them a shaman, were carried away by a tempest, in the winter-time, with the ice floes. They were taken to St. Lawrence Island, and arrived at a village. The people caught them and killed one of them, piercing his skull with a sharp drill. The shaman was left alive and made a slave. He only slept once with them, then he called to his walrus-spirits. A number of walrus came, and formed single file, so that he was able to walk upon their heads. After he had stepped on a walrus, it would dive into the water and join the file in front. After several adventures he returned to Indian Point and told the people there of the fate of his companion. The people resolved to take revenge. The following summer, warriors from every village gathered on the shore. They came in boats. The whole fleet of big boats sailed across the straits to St. Lawrence Island. They saw a village on the shore, and in a thick fog landed not very far away from it. The greater part of the people moved inland in order to attack the enemy from behind. Some few went directly to the village under cover of the fog. One old man said, 'Give voice, like wolves howling.' They howled like wolves. Then among the £t. Lawrence people another old man started, and said, 'Oh, they are here!' The younger people answered, 'Is it possible? But we are on an island.' -- 'Oh, yes! Give answer, you also.' Then they roared like walrus. Meanwhile the larger troop of assailants, those that were behind, were slowly approaching. All of a sudden they attacked the islanders, and began to kill them. The women, from sheer fright, strangled themselves. Others carved walrus-meat, with which to treat the victors. A great slaughter ensued. Numerous women were taken prisoners and carried to Indian Point.
   "After four years the St. Lawrence people, in their turn, sought revenge. They came in the night-time, and succeeded in surprising the people in their sleep. They killed them simply by thrusting their spears through the skin walls of the sleeping-room. One small orphan-boy, however, fled in time, and wakened the people. Then the assailants fled to the open sea. The next year the old men of St. Lawrence said, 'It is enough. Let all the people make peace among themselves.' The summer came, and a number of the islanders came to the shore. They brought a large number of wooden vessels, and gave them to the people of this land. An old man of our shore said, 'How will you answer them? Give them skins.' They gave them soft skins. 'What skins are these?' -- 'Reindeer-skins!' -- 'What is a reindeer?' -- 'They are with antlers!' -- 'What are antlers?' So they showed them a part of some skin from the head of a reindeer. They looked at it, and said, 'Oh, how wonderful! The nose is like the holes in the hide cover of a boat.' -- 'You had better try the meat!' They cooked some reindeer-fat. -- 'Oh, well! it is like blubber.' Then they ate of it. 'Oh, it tastes good!' They went away and left one man. He was a shaman; and the people of this shore made him a prisoner in the same way as the islanders did four years ago to one of our people."
   This is a very typical description of a war between two Maritime people living on opposite shores of Bering Sea.
   Tungus and Yukaghir Wars. -- Chukchee intercourse with the Tungus is quite recent, and almost nothing of it is reflected in the folk-stories. One or two tales relating to it are quite short, and poor in details. The tales of the eastern Tungus, on the contrary, contain a number of details about the coming of the Chukchee and their struggle with the Tungus inhabitants of the land. As to the Yukaghir, the Chukchee tales hardly mention them. Yukaghir tradition, on the contrary, asserts that the Chukchee and the Yukaghir were friendly among themselves; and one time, when a certain Chukchee was killed unintentially by the Yukaghir, and they saw his face, they exclaimed with much sorrow, "Sun, look on, we have killed a brother." {Jochelson, Yukaghir Materials, p. x.} But the Chukchee tales contain nothing about the Ve'emilit ("river-settlers''), the name used for the Yukaghir.
   Intertribal Wars. -- As to wars among the various parts of the Chukchee tribe, the tales mention some cases of such. Among the Reindeer Chukchee certain remote groups are even now looked upon with much distrust: such as the people of Chaun, by those of the whole Kolyma country; and, by the Pacific part of the tribe, those of the Telqä'p tundra {Compare p. 27.} and the so-called Ye'lkelit of the Upper Anadyr River and of its tributary the White River. These branches of the Reindeer Chukchee are generally spoken of as "bad" people, poor and reckless. They pay back in kind, and even scuffles often arise on the ground of mutual taunting.
   One tale relates how Head-Nodder, E3le'nnut, and Aiña'irgin, set off against the Koryak.
   "On the way they visited the Aiva'La3t. {Easterners. The Chukchee of the Telqä'p and of the Anadyr River are called by this name (cf. p. 27).} They were living on the shore of a lake. The lake was large, and the ice on it quite thick. One water-hole was cut in the middle of the lake. 'Go and fetch some water!' said Head-Nodder to the younger people. Some went for water. Across the water-hole stands `Ta've with wide-spread legs, the big man, the strong one. "What do you want?' -- 'We want water.' -- 'You shall not have it.' -- They went back. 'Why have you not brought water?' cries E3le'nnut. 'Ta've did not let us! Now go yourself.' -- 'I will go!' cries Aiña'irgin. He took the kettle and descended from the shore. Then he came to the water-hole. 'Go away!' -- 'You shall not have it!' He came quite close, put the kettle on the ice, caught Ta've and turned him head over heels. He broke with his head the thin ice over the water-hole, then he hurled him down on the ground. After that he filled his kettle and went back. 'Oh, oh!' The Easterners seized their spears. 'Stop that!' cries Head-Nodder. 'What strife is this, since we are of one tribe? Better let us go and try our anger on some other tribe.' Then peace was made among the people, and all of them set forth against the Ta'n.ñit."
   During the scuffle at the Anui fair in the year 1895, which I mentioned before, Ei'heli, "the highest chief of the Chukchee," happened to pick a quarrel with the people of the Chaun country. A man from Chaun was killed there. Ei'heli, who was drunk at the time of the scuffle, as usual, saw the corpse, and said aloud, "Oh, a man from Chaun! A dog dies a dog's death!" He even pushed the corpse with the toe of his boot. All this became known to the Chaun people, and they wanted to make Ei'heli rue his words. So the next morning they met him on his way to the Russian fort, and wanted to seize his reindeer. He succeeded in getting loose from them. Then they declared that they would kill Ei'heli just as the Russians had killed one of their number. Ei'heli felt uneasy, and the next morning left, and made for his own country. I was then with him. The first five days we travelled quite fast, from fear of pursuit. Three years before, Ei'heli and his people had had a quarrel with the people from Chaun, and had nearly come to blows.
   Minor quarrels sometimes arise in connection with conflicting claims to the best reindeer-pastures. The tale of "The Happy Suitor" contains a curious episode of this kind.
   "Two sons of the hero came back from the reindeer-pasture. The elder said to the father, 'A man of the neighboring camp is pasturing his reindeer on our grounds.' The father said, 'Why is he angry at us, that he acts in such a manner? This is our fall pasture. Is there not room enough farther on? What has angered him?' Then he said, 'Take that, and stick it into the ground there.' He gave them a large arrow with a wooden head. 'With this I want to recover my pasture. This is the sign of interdiction of use.' They went to the pasture and put the arrow there. In the fall they drove their herd towards that pasture. Then they could not find the arrow. The other man had taken it away, and the pasture was quite trampled down. At last they found an old fireplace, and there a remnant of the arrow, all charred. The man had used it to boil some soup for himself, so large was the arrow. Some time after that, they pitched their tents in a new place. Then they saw the other man passing by with a caravan of sledges. The pack-sledges were following one behind another in a long file. The old man took his bow and five arrows and killed five reindeer one after another, so that five sledges were left without driving-animals. The people of the offender had to attach their own driving-reindeer to the sledges, and to walk slowly afoot. So the old man had his revenge for the burnt arrow."
   As to the Maritime Chukchee, I mentioned a feud between the villages Lu3'ren and Ya'nřa-ñai, which lasted through more than ten generations, and has not been smoothed over even at the present time. {Compare p. 50.}
   Slaves. -- The term for a male slave was pu'rel, and for a female slave na'uchin. The latter is simply a variation of the word ne'us-qat ("woman''). Other synonymes of the word pu'rel are ä3mu'lin, vi'yokn, gŭpi'lin. Properly speaking, pu'rel was a captive of another tribe, or perhaps a man of the same tribe who was enslaved, in lieu of blood-revenge. I shall treat of this later on. Äsmu'lin signifies also "weak one," "weakling," and is used as an invective, especially with the superlative prefix ciq (ciq-a3mu'lin, "a very weak one"). Vi'yolm signifies "assistant," and is used even for some of the benevolent spirits. Gupi'lin signifies "a working-man," and is applied to all workers, male or female, even those belonging to one's own family. Nevertheless all these terms are used in a contemptuous sense, and may be used as invectives. They are applied also to the real slaves almost without discrimination.
   In modern life slaves hardly exist. The remembrance of them, however, is fresh. For instance, two of my acquaintaces -- one Ara'ro, a very rich reindeer-breeder of the western tundra; and the other, Aiñanwa't -- still declared themselves to be descendants of captive slaves of Ta'n-ñin origin; and even their neighbors sometimes taunted them with the fact, and called them pora'lčiñin ("piece of a slave"). The line of descent was removed several generations. Still Aiñanwa't asserted that he himself was a Ta'n.ñin, though of course even his great-grandfather spoke only Chukchee and lived among that tribe. Even the special incantations which Aiñanwa't possessed, as does almost every Chukchee reindeer-breeder, mentioned his Ta'n.ñin and A'tal-Ta'n.ñin (Chuvantzy) origin.
   The tales often make mention of slaves, male and female, taken as prisoners of war. The tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons" gives a detailed description of an enslaved prisoner of Ai'wan origin. The hero vanquishes him in single fight. Then, in order to weaken his future powers of resistance and to break his spirit, he beats him with a heavy club all over the muscles and fleshy parts of the body. After that he ties him firmly to a pole, and carries him away like a log. The slave is suffering, and cries, "I am thirsty!" One time they give him water-, another time they do not care to do so. When brought to the house of the victors, he is made a reindeer-herdsman; and when he does not give full satisfaction, the master severely chastises him. The slave repays him with treachery, and is finally killed by the master.
   Half-grown boys and girls were considered as-best fitted to be taken as slaves. Sometimes numbers of them were taken with the herds and kept with them, especially as they knew their own herd better than the victors. Thus, in the tale of "Ta'lo, the Ta'n.ñin Nursling," the hero, after vanquishing the Ta'n.ñit, takes fifteen herds, and with them eighty young slaves. All other prisoners are deprived of life. In the tale of "The Transformed Shaman" the hero takes a number of herds and combines them. Each herd had its own young herdsmen, who formed quite a throng. When coming home, the hero divides the booty into two parts, -- the reindeer as well as the herdsmen, -- and gives one part to his brother. {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 241.} In the course of time, such captives mixed with the Chukchee people, the herds were slaughtered and consumed by the victors, and a part of them fell into the possession of their herdsmen. In the tale of "Ele'ndi and His Sons," it is said that even the treacherous Ai'wan slave, if he should behave properly, would ultimately receive from the master a portion of the herd, though it was not even acquired in war and was the master's old property. Captive women were hard-worked, and were made the wives of their masters. Sometimes they were sold from one camp to another; but, on the whole, their position was little different from that of the Chukchee women.
   The price of a grown woman was a large bag of tobacco (72 or 108 pounds Avoirdupois). {Compare p. 57.} Young girls were cheaper. I shall show in the last chapter that captive women from the American shore were sold by the Chukchee traders even to Russian settlers.
   I mentioned before, that in modern times no slaves have existed among the Chukchee. I was told in the village of Valqa'Lên that some years ago, in one of the reindeer-camps of the vicinity, an old woman died who had been captured by the Maritime Chukchee on a free-booting expedition to the American shore, and then sold to the Reindeer-breeders. In a camp on the Wolverene River I met another old woman who was also of American Eskimo origin. She was said to have been bought by a Maritime Eskimo trader, and also sold to the Reindeer-breeders. At the time, she was an old widow without children, and lived in the camp of the brother of her former husband. The other women, when speaking of her, called her, with a shade of contempt, "the slave-woman" (ña'učhin).
   I was told that in cases of murder, blood-revenge may be replaced by the taking of a man from the family of the murderer. This man must wholly replace the murderer. He must perform his work and all his duties. Thus, in the case of the Chukchee killed in a scuffle at the Anui fair in the year 1895, of whom I have spoken before, the kinsmen of the one killed came to the fair the next year, and asked for retribution. They were offered tea, sugar, and tobacco. They took all this, but then declared that they wanted the Cossack who killed the man, or at least any other of the Cossacks. He was to be taken to the tundra, and to live there in the family of the killed man, to be a husband to his widow, a father to his small children. Then only might the feud be considered as wholly settled. They repeated the request the following year, and were again paid in tea and other valuables.
   In this case a man taken from the family of the offender had to be adopted by the family of the victim, and in every way took his place. I know of another case of similar character. Pe'qul, a man of Maritime origin, had a cousin who was an assistant herdsman in a large tundra herd on the. Wolverene River. After a couple of years, the young herdsman was killed in a scuffle. Pe'qul came to the Wolverene River to seek for indemnity and revenge. He took from the family of the murderer a number of reindeer by way of ransom (ki'tkaw); then he also took a young boy, the son of the sister of the murderer, and carried him to his own house. The boy was treated very harshly, so that he even tried to commit suicide. Then he was released in exchange for a new payment in live reindeer. Pe'qul also threatened to take a certain young woman from the same family. The woman also declared that she would rather destroy her own life.
   I know of no other cases of such replacing of dead kinsmen by a living enemy; but I was told that in former times such cases were frequent, and that the men taken from the family of the murderer were treated like slaves, and had to obey their masters blindly. Otherwise the master had the right to kill them in his turn. I suspect, however, that this is a rather exaggerated statement, or at least that slaves of this kind were not frequent among the Chukchee.
   I will also mention the tradition of a war between the people of Indian Point and those of St. Lawrence Island, of which I spoke before. There, too, after peace was concluded, a man was left as a voluntary prisoner to replace another one killed in the beginning of the strife. In modern times I know of no other cases besides those mentioned here.


   Council of the Family-Group. -- I was told that in olden times, when some awkward case in law (akau'ka-va'irgin, "inconvenient substances," the usual Chukchee expression for trouble, trespass, crime {The Chukchee have no other general term covering the concept "crime." Two roots, taiñ and qäs.m, several derivations of which are used in reference to crime, express only a trespass against religious prescriptions, mostly of ceremonial character, and the "bad luck" which is the result thereof. Thus the adjective nita'inqên means "bringing bad luck." The opposite of it is niki'ntaqên ("bringing good luck," "favorable"). The noun tai'ñIkut (pl.) with the meaning of "misfortune-protectors," is used as a designation for charm-strings (cf. p. 353). The noun qas-mu.urgin means "bad luck" coming from the influence of ke'let, etc.} happened within the limits of a family-group, the old men and the young men would hold a council. The old men would sit down and talk about the case. The young men would stand behind and listen. Likewise, when any trouble arose between two different family-groups, men from both sides would assemble. The old men of each side would elect one or two speakers, who had to speak in turn, one side after the other. The old men spoke "for the softness" (am-yêrkê'ti), and the younger men had to obey their decision. If, however, an agreement could not be reached, or the parties particularly interested in the case refused to listen to reason, the old men would say, "Let them [have a little] play" (nuučve'erkinet). {F. Boas mentions that among the Central Eskimo there exists a kind of temporary chief, who may give orders, but that there is not the slightest obligation to obey his orders (Central Eskimo, p. 581). In the same way among the Chukchee the advice of the old men was not binding upon the interested parties.} Then the interested parties, armed with spears, would have an encounter. Of course, even such a duel would have been better than the unorganized bloodshed of vendetta; but I am unable to say how far the above description of the council corresponded to actual life: at least, in the modern life of the Chukchee tribe, I do not know of anything similar to such councils and their deliberations.
   I mentioned previously that the Chukchee are eloquent in their own way; so that, when anything happens, at the next gathering of the people -- for instance, during some ceremonial or on the occasion of a reindeer-race -- it is much talked about; and in this discussion, as is the custom, only the older and more esteemed people take an important part. From this to a regular council, however, is a long way. I mentioned in the chapter on marriage a similar assertion by D. J. Melikoff, {See p. 574.} concerning the "council of elders." This assertion even pretended to refer to modern times. I expressed then also my opinion that in modern times, so far as I know, no such councils are held among the Chukchee. The law is regulated by personal action, and no public institutions have anything to do with the judgment or punishment of the crime.
   Murder and Blood-Revenge within the Family-Group. -- The principal crime is of course murder, and the punishment thereof blood-revenge. In the beginning of my acquaintance with the Chukchee tribe I was astonished to find that all murders are divided into two categories, those committed within the family-group, and those committed outside of it. Only those of the second category are liable to blood-revenge. Those in the first category were exempt from it, or indeed from any punishment at all. In explanation of such a state of things, the Ghukchee would even quote something like a formula of customary law: "as one of their own he was treated" (čini'tu li'gnin), "as a kinsman he was treated" (čiče'tu li'gnin). This is meant to express that each family-group knows their own circumstances best, and is able to decide about them. The Chukchee would add, "Is he destined to live on? All the same, he would be killed by a stranger" (Yäqqäi' ye'g telelqäl? Tŭmg-a'lvalag ečve'čä ni'nminên). This implies that only "bad men" are murdered within the limits of the family-group. In reality, I know this to be true in some cases. For instance, in the country of the Oloi River, a couple of years before my visit there, a Chukchee by the name of Leivite'hin was killed by his own kinsmen. He was a man of spiteful temper. He ill-used his housemates, and was even cruel to his own driving-reindeer. The Reindeer Chukchee consider the driving-reindeer as first among things "dear to the heart" (li'ñliñkin). The terms for blood-revenge (li'ñilin, "blood-revenger;" liñile'erkin, "to seek blood-revenge") are derived from the same root (liñ). This root belongs to the noun li'ñliñ ("heart").
   One day, Leivite'hin, while on some journey, happened to kill one of his reindeer by a misdirected blow. After that his kinsmen resolved to take his life. They said, "Otherwise he will be killed by somebody else, and we shall have a feud on our hands." So his own brother came to his camp, and at a favorable moment stabbed him in the back with a knife. This act was approved by the common consent of all neighbors, because he was a "bad one, a source of torment to the others" (e3'tqi tawêmin.ñi'irgin), as they expressed it. {The common consent of the neighbors for the killing of a bad man is of very great importance also among the Eskimo (compare, Boas, Central Eskimo, p. 582).} In another case I mentioned, {Compare p. 45.} a father was killed by his son and nephew, with the knowledge of his wife, also for his extreme cruelty. Outside of such cases, however, I know of several others where the victims were not "bad ones" at all, and the murderers were acting for their own material interest. Such was the case of fratricide mentioned above. In still another case, a man of the Chukchee country, Ya'yaq by name, was murdered by his nephews in the early nineties of the last century. He was a rich reindeer-breeder, and the young men simply wanted to get possession of his large herd. On the other hand, Ya'yaq, a few months before his death, had himself committed a barbarous murder on a family of Maritime people at Cape Erri. His deed was of such a character that it could not pass without punishment; so that the murderers could allege for themselves that the killing of Ya'yaq by his own people would destroy all grounds for blood-revenge, and prevent further trouble. In still another case that I know of a man named Qa'vrêtto was killed by his cousin in a quarrel. After the deed, the murderer married the wife of his victim, and joined the two herds together. The victim left a small son, who had to live in the camp of the murderer. Nobody protested against the deed. The Chukchee who told me the details of the affair said, "What is to be done? This is their own business" (Qailo'-qim mi'ñkri. E'rng-li'i; literally, "Of course how, their knowledge").
   I will also mention a couple of cases of a somewhat different character, although they happened within the family.
   A mother killed her boy with a blow of a heavy stick. The boy was about seven years old. The father was, as the Chukchee says, "a soft one" (yi'rkum-va'hn), and nothing further happened. In two cases men killed their wives, -- one with a fire-brand, and the other with a kick of the foot in her abdomen. Moreover, the second woman was with child. Both murders remained without consequences. In a third case, however, a rich reindeer-breeder on the western Kolyma tundra, Qitu'wgi, who happened to murder his wife, had to pay a heavy fine to the brother of the one killed. He gave nine reindeer, among them two driving-teams and a number of the best fawn-skins. I was told, however, that even this fine was moderate, the killed one being a woman and not very young.
   Still another case, also previously mentioned, {Compare p. 551.} where, on the contrary, a wife killed her husband with the concurrence of her daughters, remained without consequences for the lack of avengers; that is to say, the victim had no kinsmen in the neighborhood.
   Murder and Blood-Revenge outside of the Family. -- A murder committed outside of the family-group rarely remains unavenged. "It is a bitter shame to leave blood unpaid for," say the Chukchee. "Even the remote kinsmen have to take it to heart. A friend, too, must avenge his friend, and, much more, his group-marriage companion."
   I have already mentioned that the union of those who have to take part in blood-revenge is designated by a special term, či'n-yinn, "heart-company" (from the root čiñ, identical with lift). These are, first of all, kinsmen in the father's line ("those from the old-buck side"). It is said that kinsmen in the mother's line ("those from the matrix side") have to appear as avengers only when there is nobody to undertake it in the father's line. The son-in-law, who lives in the house of his wife as an adopted son, is considered as a member of his wife's father's family, and takes an active part in the blood-revenge. The son-in-law, living separately, is equivalent to a kinsman in the mother's line. He undertakes revenge only in the absence of paternal kinsmen. On the whole, in all strife and cases of revenge the rights of the paternal line are decidedly preponderant over those of the maternal. In case the interests of other groups come into collision, a man has to stay with the paternal line. The same is true for the Asiatic Eskimo. The people at Indian Point declared, "In the case of a quarrel, the father's kin becomes near, and the mother's remote." Still, the saying, that, in case of need, even the remotest relation may appear as an avenger, is occasionally put into practice. For instance, when a Chukchee man was killed by the Russians at the Anui fair in 1895, an incident, of which I have already spoken, the wrong was taken up, first of all, by the step-father of the killed one; i.e., by a man who was not connected with him on either the paternal or maternal side. He negotiated with the officials, and even received the first portion of the pay for the blood. It seemed, however, that he was conscious of having no right to that pay: at least, some of it was stolen from him almost immediately by the other Chukchee. He offered to return the remainder to the Russians under the pretense that they should keep it for the brother of the slain. In the end, of course, he took it for himself.
   From this moment, day after day, various Chukchee from the Chaun country came to the Russian officials. Some of them declared themselves to be cousins of the killed one, how many times removed nobody could ascertain. The others simply said that they were his fellow-countrymen. They explained, "We have trodden the same ground as he. This is sufficient to make us feel compassion at his death." Most of them also declared that it was their intention to get some part of the pay for blood; but the others only offered a lot of invective, even threatening the Russian officer to his very face. After that they would go. Still all of them declared that all these doings were quite useless, and that revenge would not begin until the next year, when the brother of the victim would come to the fair.
   Nevertheless, there are cases where no kinsman wants to appear as an avenger of blood. Of brothers and cousins there may be none; and the more remote relations do not care to take up the quarrel, especially if the hostile family is strong enough to sustain the fight. If the slain one has left youthful sons, however, the duty of revenge falls upon them, and sooner or later will ' be accomplished.
   A good description of the way in which blood-revenge was practised, was given to me by Aiñanwa't. I knew personally some of the people mentioned and described in his story; and the information they gave corresponded in all essential points to that obtained from Aiñanwa't. The most remarkable of the family of brothers mentioned in the story was the oldest. His name was Va'lirgin. He was about forty years old, well built, strong, and active. He had the reputation among his neighbors of being dangerous in times of trouble; but in ordinary life he was of a quiet nature, and abused nobody.
   "One rich reindeer-breeder was killed by his camp assistant while with the herd. He had left three sons, all of them still young boys. The eldest boy, however, was not very small: he had already begun to help with the herd during the daytime. There was, besides these, a little brother of the one killed. He was of just the same age as the second boy. After the murder, the camp assistant, being the strongest man in the camp, slaughtered reindeer as he liked. Then the wife of the murdered man began to abuse her eldest son, who slept too long in the morning. {With the Reindeer Chukchee late sleeping is considered a great disgrace for a young man occupied with the herd.} The woman said, 'Your father has been murdered, and notwithstanding this you sleep so long in the morning!'
   "All this time the boys were shooting with their bows, spurred on by their mother. Their little uncle, the young brother of the murdered one, was doing the same. The murderer continued slaughtering their reindeer. Very soon he made them poor, and at last their entire herd had been butchered. Then the murderer separated from them and went away to a distant locality. The boys continued their exercises. At last they grew up to young manhood. The next year they were full grown, and became strong men. The murderer went away to the windward side. {Eastwards (cf. p. 27).}
   "Now the boys went in search of him. They had become great archers. They would take aim at a blade of grass, and would hit it. Therefore they sought for the murderer. They travelled eastward from camp to camp, declaring that they were going to East Cape to trade. The camps were numerous in that country, and, after asking among the camps, they at last acquired the necessary information. The inhabitants said to them, 'He left his winter place, and is going with a light tent to the seashore to get blubber from the Maritime people. His house-mates are travelling slowly behind, waiting for his return.' These young men were without a tent, having only their own bodies; i. е., travelling with single sledges, without women and other house-mates. They reached the place. Then they began to go every day to watch the trail of the murderer, and every evening they came back. They walked on foot, leaving their reindeer in the herd of their host. The whole time they carried their bows and quivers upon their backs, ready for action. At last, one day, they saw a man coming along the trail with a reindeer-team. Behind him, but at a great distance, the usual line of pack-sledges was moving toward them. At last he came nearer and recognized them. At the same time he understood their intention, because all of them had bows in their hands. Then at last he made a halt. They said, 'Now we have found you!' He said, 'Oh! so it is. Oh! better in the camp!' They answered, 'Did you commit the deed on our man also in the camp?' So one strung a bow and shot at him. Being an expert archer, he hit him right in the middle of his liver. {That is, in the abdomen.} It was pierced through. Still he jumped up and ran away, not heeding the wound. Another one shot at the running one, and hit him ri^ht in the back. Then he fell down. They rushed toward him. He was still living, and his eyes looked like those of a living person. They hacked him with their large knives upon the head, and broke his skull. The pack-sledges were coming. Then they left him, and shouted to those who arrived, "Now we leave to you your wild reindeer [killed by us!]' They started home, running. The wife of the killed man had to pitch camp on that spot. Thus they achieved their revenge.
   "After that they left and went home. Then they travelled in this direction, because they had lived far inland. When seeking the murderer, they falsely declared in the camps, 'We are going to East Cape;' and their real intention was to commit murder. Only on the sly did they inquire from their own kinsmen concerning the man whom they intended to kill, 'Where is he?' To the other people they said, 'We are going to East Cape.' After the deed, they, in their turn, left with a feeling of fear.
   "They travelled in great haste. Still summer overtook them, and they had to remain through the summer-time. When the next fall came, with the first cool weather they moved right on here. They went somewhere on the other side of the Kolyma River, and spent one year there. The next year they crossed the Kolyma. They stopped at last just on the border of the western camps, in the country of the Indighirka. It seemed almost as if they wanted to pass on to the land beyond the Chukchee (i.e., to the Russian) territory. Only there they resolved to make a halt. So they remained on the leeward (western) side. Ten years they spent in that country; and after many years the 'knowing men' among the kinsmen of the murdered one made them (by magic) entirely forget the past, and leave off their watchfulness. Then the youngest brother was murdered by means of a spell from a great distance (by those 'knowing men')."
   Then follows the episode of the spell. The youngest brother wounded a wild reindeer-buck that came to his camp. While pursuing it on the ice of the lake, he broke his own neck. Thus the reindeer proved to be a spell. This part of the story has been mentioned elsewhere. {Compare p. 482.} The narrator pointed out that this man, one of the recent avengers, perished through an accident connected with the shooting; and when dying had his bow in his hand, ready to shoot. He had the same bow ten years before, when taking an active part in their blood-revenge. Notwithstanding the incident of the spell, the narrator, when speaking of the flight of the avengers westwards, added some remarks of his own deprecating their lack of courage after the deed. His remarks are quite interesting: --
   "They fled without reason. Their deed was not a murder. Why have they left their own country? They have only avenged their kinsman. And if they had staid there, they would have met no annoyance, since they were only 'exchangers.' It is rather sinful to answer [the avengers] with murder. Some such even live together, become friends and group-marriage companions; for they may dwell in union, since they have accomplished their intention, as they would finish some great work. {A similar practice exists' among the American Eskimo. Thus Franz Boas says about the Central Eskimo. "Their method of carrying on such a feud is quite foreign to our feelings. Strange as it may seem, a murderer will go to visit the relatives of his victim, though he knows that they are allowed to kill him in revenge, and will settle with them. He is kindly welcomed, and sometimes lives quietly for weeks and months. Then he is suddenly challenged to a wrestling-match, and, if defeated, is killed: or, if victorious, be may kill one of the opposite party; or when hunting, he is suddenly attacked by his companions and slain." (Boas, Central Eskimo, p. 582). All this may have place also among the Chukchee.} The others, however, may indeed feel afraid when the murderer has kinsmen who are hot-tempered. Some also do not kill the murderer. They kill somebody else, a son or a brother, or another man dear to his heart. They make the murderer suffer from sorrow. They say, 'You also suffer and repine.' The man who has recently committed a murder feels the utmost fear; but when retribution has been accomplished, he may cease to be afraid." {Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 23.}
   From all this the conclusion may be drawn that Chukchee blood-revenge in most cases stops with the first case of retribution, and that the repaying of revenge with further deeds of violence happens less frequently. On the contrary, families having a feud, after the first act of revenge, may conclude peace, and even form ties of friendship. I cannot say that I know of cases of such friendship in actual life; but, on the other hand, the continuation of blood-revenge through a series of return-cases does not correspond to the general condition of Chukchee family life. The Chukchee family connection is not strong enough to sustain a prolonged feud: at least, among the Reindeer Chukchee, in all cases of vendetta of which I know, revenge was taken by the first party wronged, and after that in return by the second party wronged. In this latter case it consisted almost always in the payment of were-geld or in the use of magic influence. Then the vendetta would cease, and even the enmity would be at an end. As to the Maritime Chukchee, I mentioned a prolonged feud between two villages, but the feud was of a different character; and no particular family blood-revenge; so far as I know, formed the basis of it.
   In folk-tales, cases of vendetta are described almost with as much detail as the episode of actual life narrated above. Thus, for instance, in the tale of "Violent-One Murdered" (E'rmec in ti'myo), the man is performing violence on his neighbors and robbing them of the products of their seal-hunt. They feel annoyed at this, and finally kill him. I mentioned this tale because of its description of a violent man among the Maritime people. {Compare p. 644.} In the second part of the tale it is said that the killed one left two wives. One of them was with child, and soon brought forth male twins. The boys grew up quickly; but the family suffered many hardships, and often they had nothing to eat. The women, however, incited the boys to continual exercise, in order to prepare them for revenge. They said to them, "Our hunger comes from the fact that your father was killed by his enemies. While he was living, we always had plenty. So you are bound to avenge his death, and make the families of his murderers also repine and starve." The boys obeyed. They were running all the time, hauling large trunks of trees, and fencing with spears. Thus they became strong and active men. One day they killed ten wild reindeer-bucks, and fed the two old women, their mother and her companion, who were almost starved to death. Then they had a quarrel with their neighbors, who had killed a whale. The old woman said, "Your father perished with many wounds in his body. Go now and repay that." They went, and had a fight with their neighbors. All the men were killed. Everything that moved on the shore was exterminated. The young children of the killed men were reduced to starving orphans. {Hogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 373. A part is taken from another variant not yet published.}
   It is curious to note that the idea of blood-revenge appears even in connection with hunting and fishing pursuits. Thus the Chukchee say that the trapping of foxes, otters, etc., is influenced by the desire of blood-revenge on the part of animals. One of the trappers told me that every time his traps catch a fox, he sees the fox in a dream beforehand. The animal attacks the hunter, and wants to hurt him. {Another hunter used in similar cases to dream of love-making. The fox would appear to him as a woman who wanted to make love to him; but when he would come near to her, he would find her fast asle'ep. By this he knew that a fox was caught in his traps and had died there.} In speaking of foxes, he called them "avengers" (li'ñilit). Another hunter explained to me that among men and beasts there exists an eternal feud and desire for blood-revenge. When a man has killed a fox, another fox wants to avenge its death: so it rushes to a trap, and is killed in its turn. The fiercer this enmity on the part of the animals, the better will be the hunting. For this reason also, in angling, the angler sends a derisive challenge to the fishes in order to make them come. Thus, in angling for grayling through holes in the ice, when the fishes are seen in the water, but do not want to bite at the hook, the angler uses an' incantation as follows: --
   "Vai, vai, vai, ELa'naw-mê'rga qamê'-lo3-ti'npik gagtimmca'w-ê-hit;"
   "There, there, there, (from) mother, woman- in eating face-kicking having received a lesson-art grandparent thou;"
   that is, "Well, well, from your mother's mother, who kicked you in the face, during a meal you have received a lesson of prudence." Another incantation used is: --
   "Yo, yo, tan.ñina'qut e'mi?"
   "Oh, oh! ta'n.ñit big where (are they)?"
   that is, "Oh, oh! Where are those big ta'n.ñit?" The fishes are equivalent to the ta'n-nit, the ancient enemies of the Chukchee tribe.
   When the fish has bitten and been caught, the angler uses still another incantation: --
   "Gik, gik, gik, kirña-taka'lhin qäine'wkun;" -
   "Oh, oh, oh! old male mate call him;"
   that is, "Oh, oh, oh! call your elder companion."
   This last incantation is the most effective of all. He who neglects to pronounce this short formula after every successful catch, in a short time will lose all his "fishing-luck."
   Weregild. -- Weregild may be accepted either for murder, or, much more frequently, for any lesser crime perpetrated on person or property. The Chukchee language has several expressions for weregild. One of these is qäl-vil (literally, "misfortune-value"). This term is applied to weregild for more serious crimes; i. е., for murder and for great robberies.
   Pu'urm (literally, "exchange") is applied to cases of minor robberies and of corporal damages not followed-by death. The same stem, however, is also used for all kinds of retributions, even for blood-revenge. Puun'tkulm ("the exchanger") is employed in the same sense as the term li'ñilin ("the avenger"), mentioned before. Ki'tkau (literally, "hard return") is also used for all kinds of retaliation in blood, and also for weregild. Ñi'rkičvai ("shame-pay") is used where some personal insult has been inflicted, chiefly in cases of rape on women, also in those of retribution for blood, and sometimes even for bad words. Weregild may be accepted for murder when the offender is either rich or has many strong kinsmen who are likely to defend him, or under both circumstances. The Chukchee, notwithstanding their quick temper, still have in their character a streak of soberness. "Large profits are always preferable to blood," they say. I have described above in some detail the Anui-fair murder, where the Russians paid weregild for the killed man. The Chukchee, even in the hottest of the quarrel, did not express a direct craving for the blood of the murderer. I should, however, mention that the scuffle was so sudden and disorderly, that the natives did not notice who of the Russians dealt the mortal blow to the victim. The Russians knew, but of course kept it a secret. The next year this man avoided going to the Anui fair. Not knowing the name of the murderer, the Chaun people were disposed to wreak their vengeance on the "chief," Ei'heli, as I have already mentioned. The next year Ei'heli also refused to go to the Anui fair; but the visit could not be avoided because of his official duties. He, however, left all his reindeer far away, and was conveyed to the fair by the Russians on a dog-team. He lived within the Russian fort, and avoided appearing in the trading-camps. Some days after his coming, the brother of the killed man met him at the house of the Russian chief officer, and promised to pay him a personal visit. A few hours later Ei'heli asked to be taken away from the fair, and carried to Nishne-Kolymsk. "Otherwise they will kill me," he persisted. "This time I shall not escape." So this case also might have ended in blood-revenge.
   I mentioned another case where a Maritime Chukchee whose cousin had been murdered in a reindeer-camp on the Anui River, took as weregild a young boy of the family of the murderer, and also a large part of his herd. The next year he came again and took another part of the herd of reindeer. He gave as his reason for doing so that weregild must be taken three consecutive years. Otherwise the spirit of the victim would not be appeased. His demands were considered exorbitant. When he was driving the reindeer back to his country, one of the kinsmen of the one killed crossed his path, and requested that half of the animals be given back. The Reindeer man had other people with him, and they immediately proceeded to* divide the herd. "After that close asking," said the last comer, "we shall have enough of this. The next year we shall fight you." The brother of the man killed by the Russians also mentioned three years of payment of weregild, but the third year he got nothing. The whole value given to his step-father and to himself reached about three hundred rubles. It consisted of tea, sugar, tobacco, kettles, colored calico, etc. He asked also for some brandy; but this time the authorities had brought none, and refused to grant the request. Thus, in these two cases the weregild paid by the murderer was heavy enough.
   In a third case of which I know, the weregild was much smaller. The affair took place also at the Anui fair, in the year 1894. A man came there with a single driving-team (qun-geke'ñä), and staid at a camp of one of his acquaintances from the Anui country, who had come to the fair with a number of his cousins. Some people from the Wolverene River accused this man of having murdered one of their friends in a drunken brawl two years before: so they wanted to punish him for that. They came to the camp of the Anui people armed with rifles and knives, but the master of the camp declared that he was ready to defend his guest. His people were more numerous. An altercation ensued. The offended party wanted at least to take the team of the murderer, since it was the only thing there "dear to his heart" (li'ñliñqin); but the accused one flatly refused to part with the team. "I will rather die," said he. So, after some quarrelling and mutual threats, the assailants saw the necessity of contenting themselves with fawn-skins, which the murderer had brought for sale to the Russians. The skins were twenty in number, valued at fifteen rubles. A Chukchee single driver cannot carry much on his small sledge. Some time afterwards I saw one of the assailants. He said, "Well, after all, he had to go back to his family empty-handed. The tea and tobacco, the 'desire of his heart,' were taken from him with these fawn-skins." From the Chukchee point of view, this reasoning was more or less true. The force of the desire is taken into account independently of the real value of the object, in peaceful trading; and a Chukchee is ready to pay a threefold price for any trifle that may take his fancy, and could not be acquired otherwise. The Russian traders are well aware of this disposition of the Chukchee, and make full use of it in all commercial transactions. So in this case tea and tobacco were really "dear to the heart" of the accused man.
   Minor Crimes. -- Minor crimes, on the whole, are followed either by personal chastisement or by the payment of weregild. The personal chastisement is usually preceded by a challenge to a wrestling-match, and inflicted after the victory in the dance. I mentioned before {Compare p. 573.} the tale of the " Lucky Suitor," in which such an incident is described with characteristic details.
   "The hero married a proud girl, who had previously refused all her suitors. One of them, who lived in a neighboring camp, met her outside, threw her to the ground, and scratched her face with the point of his knife. The lucky suitor came to her camp shortly after the incident, vanquished her in a running-match, and was accepted. The next fall the neighbor who had scratched the woman's face invited the people, saying, 'Let us again have races and running-matches!' All the people assembled, and all took part in a running-match. The newly married one did not take off his outer fur shirt. He ran in his usual clothes. Nevertheless he came back first. All the others were behind. Then he sprang forward, and said, 'Well, come on [for a wrestling-match].' His face was inflamed with anger. 'Who wants to try? Hurry up!' -- 'Who knows?' answered the others. 'Let this one wrestle with me!' and he pointed out the neighbor who in the past year had scratched his wife's face. 'No,' says the neighbor, looking down. 'Hurry up!' said the other. He continued to refuse. Then at last the lucky suitor sprang toward him and kicked him in the face. The other one fell down and swooned. After a while he sat up on the ground. 'Hurry up!' He rose, but continued to refuse. Then the lucky suitor caught him, threw him down, and pressed him with his knee to the ground. Then he took out his girdle-knife, and cut his nostrils all over, also his eyelids and his cheeks. His whole face he cut into strips, in revenge for the treatment of his wife."
   Cases like this happen in modern life, and I will describe some later on. Of course, in order to inflict a chastisement of such a kind on the offender, one must be able to overcome him in a struggle. Whenever I mentioned this to my Chukchee friends, they would instantly answer, "A wronged man will be victorious." This is the leading idea of all ordeals and of single combats for the sake of law. In actual life some encounters of this kind have issues of exactly opposite character. Thus one of the three brother-avengers of whom I spoke before, Vaatu'wgê by name, while still quite young, had a drunken brawl with another young Chukchee, whose name was Peñe'wgi. They had a wrestling-match; and Vaatu'wgê, who was by far the stronger, threw his adversary down, and, seizing one of his legs, pulled it violently and drew it out of the socket. In consequence of this act, Peñe'wgi remained lame until his death. Now, Peñe'wgi was of a meek disposition; and his cousin Peñelqu't, though cross-tempered enough, was but an indifferent fighter. The offender, on the contrary, was one of the three brothers who had prepared for murder from their youth up, and all three were strong and nimble men; so that the wrong of Peñe'wgi was left without retaliation.
   Another case within my knowledge happened in the country of the Upper Anui River, while I was travelling there. One man, U'mkuum by name, took a liking to a young woman, the wife of another Chukchee, O'oqai, who lived in a neighboring camp. The young woman refused his courtship; but at last he came to her house in the absence of her husband, caught her in the entrance of the outer tent, and violated her. This was done in broad daylight and in the middle of the camp. He promised to give her for this a new seal-skin, but failed to fulfil his promise. Then she complained to her husband, who challenged the offender to a wrestling-match; but both men proved to be of equal physical strength. The wronged man belonged to a strong family; and the number of his brothers, all full-grown and active, was seven. Shortly after that, four of the best reindeer of U'mkuum were lost. The people in the camps around laughed, and said that they were sold off for a single seal-skin.
   In a camp of the Anui country, two young men had a quarrel while playing cards. A wrestling-match followed, and the one who considered himself wronged threw his adversary to the ground. The vanquished one sprang up and seized a large piece of wood that had been prepared to be fashioned into a sledge-runner. He wanted to strike the victor upon the head with the wood; but the latter succeeded in catching hold of it by the other end, and in wrenching it from the hands of his assailant. He threw it away; then, incensed by the attack, he kicked his adversary in the face, just as described in folk-lore. The other one fell down, his face bleeding. Now, the young man belonged to a strong family, with a number of uncles and cousins: so the next day some of his people came to the camp of the offender.
   Knives were drawn and they threatened to cut the sinews of the legs of the offender, that he might not be able to kick again. Nevertheless they did not come to blows. A few days afterwards, when the passions of both parties had cooled down, the young man who was threatened declared that he was in the right when he wrenched the piece of wood from his assailant and kicked him; and he therefore wanted to have reparation for the unsheathing of iron in his camp. Finally he was actually given as ki'tkau ("hard return," i.e., reparation, see p. 669) a set of reindeer leg-skins. The value of the gift was insignificant, and it had chiefly a moral effect.
   Shortly after my first arrival at the Anui fair, I had a visit from Ei'heli, Qitu'wgi, and other chiefs of the Chukchee. They bade me welcome in a manner rather ceremonial, but they were really wishing for a drink of brandy as a token of welcome on my part, which they accordingly received; There were five or six of them. Then more people came and asked for the same, and at last I stopped the supply. One of the later comers, who had had nothing, insisted also on having a sip of the liquor. Soon he became so importunate, that I lost patience and asked him to leave me in peace. He sat down in his place, grumbling to himself. A couple of hours afterwards I was standing in the gate of the fortress, talking with the people who were passing to and fro, and making occasional notes in a little note-book that I held in my hands. Suddenly my recent guest came up from behind and struck me with his fist on my right wrist, so that my note-book fell to the ground. "You so and so!" cried he, "you come here and hobnob with the people for hours and scribble notes on a paper, but one cannot get a draught of brandy in your blessed house." After that he retreated a little, stripped off his fur shirt, and was quite naked down to his waist. Then he requested me to do the same, and to have a wrestling-match with him. "I am standing on my own ground," added he, "and I may challenge you to a test." He was right, in so far as even officially only the interior of the fortress was considered to be Russian territory, and all the space outside of it was admitted to belong to the Chukchee. Every evening all the Chukchee were turned out of the fortress and the gate locked, so that the difference was more than theoretical. A young boy of about ten years kept tugging at the clothes of this man with all his might, trying to persuade him to be off to the house. This was his son. But the father was firm in his intention. My adversary was a man of fifty, of Maritime extraction, Ri'nto by name. He was of slender frame, but his temper was undaunted. As a result of this, he had two ugly scars in the region of his abdomen. I felt no desire, however, for the unexpected wrestling-match. At the same time I. did not like the idea of openly retreating before my adversary, though he stood on his own territory, and I stood on mine. The difficulty resolved itself, however, by the arrival of one of my friends, a political exile like myself, who was a man of powerful build and of great physical strength. Without paying any attention to the difference in the territories, he stepped over to Ri'nto, caught him by the head, and lifted him from the ground up in the air. Then he put him down. "Now, say, what do you want?" he asked with a smile. His temper was quite sweet and peaceful, and he did not want to hurt anybody. Ri'nto said nothing, and went away to his own house. The next day he came into the fortress, and brought with him expiatory presents, -- a reindeer-tongue for my friend, as being the stronger of us two; and a piece of ordinary meat for me. "I was ugly yesterday," said he. "Take this ki'tkau, {Compare p. 669.} as is the custom; and now give me my draught of alcohol." This was so ingenuous, that my friend was quite charmed, and insisted on having Ri'nto's wish gratified.
   Theft. -- As I have stated before, thefts frequently occur among the Chukchee, especially among the reindeer-breeders. The chief objects taken are reindeer. Retribution for theft is of the same nature as that for more serious crimes, -- either wrestling-matches and personal chastisement, or the payment of damages and a fine. I was told that the common rule required that the amount paid shall equal the value of the stolen article, together with a certain surplus as a fine for-the deed. This, however, may happen when the thief confesses his action and expresses a desire to make it good, -- "compelled by shame," as the Chukchee say. If the thief persists in denying his guilt, however, it is difficult to make him return the stolen property. Thus the result depends much on the strength and the temper of the contesting parties. I will mention a few such cases within my knowledge.
   One reindeer-breeder, a man of peaceful temper, lost a group of reindeer, nine in number, which strayed away from the herd, as reindeer often do, and could not be found. It appeared afterwards that they had gone to the herd of one of the neighboring camps, and had been appropriated by the master. His own camp assistant gave information of the fact; but the offender was obstinate, and denied it till the end. Then the wronged man became angry, and sent his people to seek retribution. His son and one of his neighbors visited the herd of the offender in the latter's absence, and took from it two strong driving-reindeer, one young buck well broken, and three reindeer of the average sort. They said to the herdsmen, "Go and tell the master that we did this." Still this was not enough. The next day they visited the camp of the unfortunate thief. The nephew was of a quarrelsome disposition, and said before departing, "Maybe he will show his anger. Then we will give him a thrashing." They came to the camp, and spent some time there talking with the house-mates of the offender. He, however, sat quite silent and looked at the ground. He had not the courage to pick a quarrel. I should also mention that the quarrelsome nephew belonged to a strong family, and the number of his brothers was six. After the visit, they went home and divided the spoil. The young buck was given to the nephew. The son took the team, and the father the remainder. The neighbors said, "It is enough for him, because he lost something dear to his heart, the driving-reindeer." I have this description from one of the participants.
   Another case ended more peacefully. In the summer-time another group of reindeer had strayed from their own herd and gone to that of a neighbor. The herdsmen saw that one of the animals was quite fat, and wanted to slaughter it for their own private use. They threw a lasso; but it snapped in two, and the reindeer escaped with a fragment of the lasso wound around its antlers. Two hours later the master of the first camp came to the other herd, bringing with him the fragment of thong. The reindeer came back to him, and he rightly guessed who were the authors of this attempt to steal. "Whose lasso is this?" asked he, laughing. He was an old man, and no further trouble arose from the incident. Moreover, the herds were too near to each other. Under such conditions, the reindeer frequently become intermingled, and the herdsmen consider it no great crime to slaughter a strange reindeer when it comes to their herd. Sometimes they will even slaughter a reindeer, and then, of their own free will, confess to the owner, "Oh, I stole your reindeer." Then, of course, they give him a good reindeer from their own herd. I mentioned before that on the Arctic seashore, in the summertime, the mutual stealing of reindeer comes to be a serious annoyance.
   One of my acquaintances, Leu'tiqai by name, said to me concerning the matter, "It is too bad for one to stay in summer on the Palau' River. The herdsmen steal too much. When I was staying there, in almost every hollow I found the carcasses of my reindeer. The legs were cut off and consumed, and everyhting else was left to rot; {The Chukchee herdsmen, when they have no cooking-kettle and no fuel, but feel keen hunger, sometimes slaughter a reindeer and feed on its four legs. The hard sinews and the marrow of the bones are eaten raw. The rest necessarily has to be left on the spot.} and whomsoever you asked, 'Who left that carcass here?' the answer was always, 'I do not know.' One time I caught Qopti'irgin, son of Ti'qo, sitting by a slaughtered reindeer, gnawing at a thigh-bone. I asked him, 'Why did you not carry the carcass to your father, who is also hungry, since you slaughtered it?' He said nothing. 'Or perhaps, if you desire it, I shall give you my whole herd.' We both took off our fur shirts. He was a young man, but could not do anything, because great anger overcame me. I threw him down, then seized my thick rawhide girdle, and struck him with that upon his bare back until it was all covered with blood. After that I resolved never again to go to that land of thieves." Leu'tiqai was a man of about fifty and of mild temper; but the wrong had been repeated too often to let it go unpunished.
   "Chief" Ei'heli and the Maritime trader Čêpa't also had a quarrel over the stealing of reindeer. Čêpa't, being of Maritime origin, had not had any too much experience in keeping reindeer. His herd, too, consisted, for the most part, of new animals just bought from strange herds, and the mutual attachment of these reindeer was less strong than in an ordinary herd: so Čêpa't lost a few animals almost every summer. One year, quite a large group of reindeer, more than three hundred, strayed off and were lost. Then news came from the Oloi River that the reindeer had gone to Ei'heli, and had been appropriated by him. After that, every time they met at the spring fair, Čêpa't asked Ei'heli about his reindeer, but Ei'heli most stoutly denied having any knowledge of them. In the year 1895, Čêpa't even talked about his intention of robbing the camp of Ei'heli on his return home. Then followed the scuffle already described, and the thoughts of Čêpa't were drawn elsewhere.
   Theft among the Maritime Chukchee is less frequent than among the Reindeer tribes, perhaps on account of the absence of valuable objects. I know of some cases of robbery, however. One had already been mentioned. {Compare p. 50.} It refers to the people of Qulu'či, who complained of the inhabitants of Lu3'ren. The latter robbed the dog-drivers of Qulu'či when they were returning to their country from the Pacific shore with a load of foreign wares.
   Another case refers to a Chukchee of Mariinsky Post, Qopla'nto by name. This man, in the winter of 1898, met in the open country two young men of the village Valqa'Len, who were going to Mariinsky Post with a supply of brandy for trading-purposes. Qopla'nto joined them, spent a night with them on the snow, bought some liquor of them with fur-skins he had with him, and in the end robbed them of more of their brandy, and went away. They were two, but, being in a strange land, they did not offer much resistance; the more so, as Qopla'nto was the master of the front house of the Chukchee settlement on the north shore of the Anadyr estuary, opposite the Russian post. When Qopla'nto was leaving, however, they said to him, "Now, you too be careful not to come to our country. We shall take our chance then." In the winter of the year 1900, when I wanted to go to the northern villages, Qopla'nto at first offered his assistance in transporting my load; but when the time for departing drew near, he declared that he was afraid to visit the village Valqa'ben on account of that affair; so he had to stay at home.
   Laws regarding Property. -- I have already stated that with the Reindeer Chukchee the paterfamilias is considered to be the owner and the master of the herd, even though he be of extreme old age and infirm. I have noted down some facts within my knowledge referring to this subject. On the other hand, I was told by my Chukchee informants that when the son becomes full-grown and able to take care of the herd, the father, often of his own free will, transmits to him the direction of the herd, and himself takes the position of an assistant, even though he still be strong and able to work. Also when the son marries, and they have only a single sleeping-room, the father cedes to the son the master's side (aegis.qaoro'n, "the left one.") {Compare p. 112.} If, however, they should prefer to have separate houses, the father gives over to the son the front house, and puts up for himself a new house in the rear. Still I found but few facts corroborating this information. Everywhere old men ruled, and disposed of their property; and the houses of the sons were in the rear, not those of the fathers. When a man like Aiñanwa't really does cede his house and herd to his son, it is because of personal motives, mostly referring to the "reindeer-luck" which the old man is supposed to have lost, while the young one hopes to acquire it again.
   In the family of Ei'heli, with his numerous sons a latent and wary struggle against the father's authority really took place; but the old man jealously watched every encroachment upon his rights; and, so far as I know, he was in full possession of them until his death, which followed a couple of years after I left the Kolyma country.
   The family or the family-group has no formal rights over the property of its individual members. Still a man who becomes impoverished may be reasonably sure that his nearest kinsmen will give him essential support, unless they are too poor or too stingy. Brother applies to brother, or cousin to cousin, and receives a good part of the latter's herd, so that he may be able to start anew with his own reindeer-breeding. Thus, in the year 1894, three brothers, sons of Ta'tko, though the eldest of them was reported to be close-fisted, still gave to a cousin of theirs five scores {The Chukchee count by fives, which are called "hands;" and by scores, which are called "men" (compare, p. 50).} of their reindeer-does. This cousin, in former times, also had owned a large herd, but he had squandered it away. Now he was older, and expressed his intention to reform.
   Another acquaintance of mine, Aiña'irgin, whose name has been mentioned before, also became poor. Then his kinsmen on the Indighirka tundra gave him a hundred and fifty does, so that he was able to begin anew. In other cases impoverished kinsmen are accepted as assistants under favored conditions, with the promise of being given, after a while, a certain part of the herd.
   The chief part of the inheritance goes to the "principal heir" (e'un-mi'lhilin). He receives the house, and becomes the front-house master. He takes with the house the principal ear-mark, the oldest in the herd, with which always the greater part of the animals are maked. Other sons, and also daughters, receive animals marked with their own ear-mark, which is assigned to them by the father himself. When a well-to-do reindeer-breeder has no sons, and no daughters either, he will make every effort to procure an heir during his lifetime. For this purpose he will invite some kinsman to his camp as an assistant, and then leave him the herd. A childless man, feeling that his end is approaching, sometimes even calls in a kinsman or a friend, who lives alone, and hands over his property to him, More frequently such a childless man will adopt some boy or girl, also from one of his kin, have him or her married, and then he makes him the principal heir of the house and the herd. It sometimes happens that a rich reindeer-breeder leaves his herd without any definite heir. This may occur, for instance, because of some disease which, has taken away the only son and heir. The old father, from mere sorrow, may follow soon after, since the Chukchee are "soft to die." {Compare p. 41.} In such cases, the kinsmen come; and by counting the degrees of kinship decide who is the nearest to the deceased. There exist, however, no settled rules about this matter. I was told that in earlier times the family-group. would gather and come to a decision, but of late no such gatherings are known to me. Kinsmen of the same degree may divide the inheritance into equal shares, or the poorer man will receive a larger share. On the other hand, I know of cases where those of the kinsmen who were at hand took the whole, and the other relatives, though nearer to the deceased, could get nothing. Thus, for instance, while I was on the Wolverene River, a quarrel took place about such an inheritance. An old Chukchee of Maritime extraction, who had a good-sized herd, died heirless. His herd was taken by a third cousin (parent's cousin's child), who came with him from their parental village, and now was the front-house master of the neighboring camp. Nobody protested, and a few years passed away without incident. The man who received the inheritance died also, and the herd passed to his son, Akimlѳ'ke. Then two young men came from the Arctic shore, who said that they were sons of a first-cousin of the deceased: so they had a better right to the property than Akimlѳ'ke. They requested restitution. Akimlѳ'ke was a "strong man" (e'rmečin), always ready for strife: so he refused to comply with the request. The younger of the two brothers, however, whose name was U'mki ("polar bear"), was a large fellow of considerable strength and temper. He declared that he would rather die than go back empty-handed. While I was there, they met at a large reindeer-course, and nearly came to blows, but were prevented by the others present. I left the country before the matter came to a final issue.
   When the principal heir is a daughter, who stays in the father's house, even after she is married, her rights to the inheritance are the same as those of a male heir. A daughter who is married elsewhere receives only the animals marked with her private ear-mark. Some of these remain in her father's herd, even after her marriage. On the division of the inheritance, they fall to her possession, anyway. A female relation of more remote degree has no part in the inheritance of a childless man, and cannot contend with male relatives. A childless widow has no part in the inheritance, and has to leave the house and has no claim to any utensils. She may take only the reindeer marked with her own private ear-mark. With these she returns to her own family. In the same way the adopted son-in-law has to go, after the death of his wife, leaving everything behind him, unless he marries another woman of the family.
   A young widow with small children becomes part of the heritage left by a man. With the herd she passes to the heir of the deceased, and becomes his wife. Otherwise she must go to her own family, leaving everything behind. She may take the children to her own family, but then they forfeit every right to the inheritance. An elderly widow with youthful sons retains the herd after her husband's death, and may hold possession of the property. {Compare p. 551.}
   Among the Maritime Chukchee, until recent times, there was but little property to be inherited. After the death of the father, the sons divide his arms, nets, and seal-skins. The older son has a better share than the others; for instance, the best rifle. The house also is frequently divided into parts, because every son, when married, wants to have a house of his own. As soon as he finds enough timber, he proceeds to construct a separate house. With the Reindeer Chukchee, to divide the house into parts is a great wrong. They would rather desert the house entirely. The Maritime Chukchee simply break down the house, take away the skins, poles, etc., divide them among themselves, and use them for their own purposes.


   1 The historical sketch contained in this chapter is based on data collected by the author in the Archives of Sredne-Kolymsk, Nishne-Kolymsk, Markova on the Anadyr, also extracted from old documents of the same provenience, which are in the possession of the author. Besides the sources enumerated in the list of authorities (p. 3), several other works and editions of documents have been used. Almost all of them are Russian, and their titles are given with English translation.
   1. Историческіе Акты, собранные и изданные Археографической Коммисіей, III, IV, V.
   Historical Acts, collected and edited by the Archeographical Commission, III, IV, V (cited Acts, III, IV, V).
   2. Дополненія къ Историческимъ Актамъ, собранный и изданный Археографической Коммиссіей, III, IV, V. Supplements to the Historical Acts, collected and edited by the Archeographical Commission, III, IV, V (cited Supplements, HI, IV, V).
   3. Памятники Сибирской Исторіи XVIII Вѣка, I, II.
   Monuments of the History of Siberia in the XVIII Century, I, II (cited Monuments, I, II).
   4. Сводъ Законовъ Россійской Имперіи. Изданія 1857, 1876, 1892, 1899. Code of Laws of the Russian Empire. Editions 1857, 1876, 1892, 1899.
   6. Сенатскій Архивъ, Томъ II. Archive of the Senate, Vol. II.
   6. Дополненія къ Твореніямъ Святыхъ Отцовъ, Части 9, 11. (Москва, 1850--52). Supplements to the Works of the Holy Fathers, Parts 9, II (Moscow, 1850-52).
   7. Русскій Паломникъ 1887. Russian Pilgrim (monthly), 1887.
   8. Словцовъ, П. Историческое Обозрѣніе Сибири, С-Петербургь, 1886. Slovtzov, P. Historical Survey of Siberia, St. Petersburg, 1886 (cited Slovtzov).
   9. Сѣверный Архивъ, 1825. North Archive (periodical), 1825.
   10. Журналъ Министерства Народнаго Просвѣщенія, 1890. Journal of the Department of Education (monthly), 1890.
   11. Собраніе сочинений изъ мѣсяцеслововъ различныхъ лѣтъ, С-Петербургъ, 1790. Collection of Papers selected from Monthly Records of Various Years, St. Petersburg, 1790.
   12. Fischer, Johann Eberhard, Sibirische Geschichte, I, II, St. Petersburg, 1768.
   13. Müller, G. F. Description of the Siberian Kingdom, St. Petersburg, 1750.
   14. Приклонскій, В. Л. Хроника Якутской Области, составленная по оффиціальнымъ и историческимъ даннымъ, Красноярскъ, 1896. Priklonsky, V. L. Chronicle of the Country of Yakutsk, arranged from Official and Historical Data, Krasnoyarsk, 1896.
   15. Щегловъ, И. В. Хронологически перечень Важнѣйшихъ Данныхъ изъ исторіи Сибири, Иркутскъ, 1883. Shcheglov, I. V. Chronological List of the Most Important Data of the History of Siberia, Irkutsk, 1883 (cited Shcheglov).
   16. Андріевичъ, В. К. Исторія Сибири, I, II, С-Петербургъ, 1889. Andriyevich, V. К. History of Siberia, I, II, St. Petersburg, 1889 (cited Andriyevich).
   17. Титовъ, А. Сибирь въ XVII Вѣкѣ, Москва, 1890. Titov, A. Siberia in the XVII Century, Moscow, 1890.
   18. Маныкинъ-Невструевъ, А. И. Завоеватели Восточной Сибири, Якутскіе Казаки, Москва, 1883. Manykin-Nevstruyev, A.I. Cossacks of Yakutsk, Conquerors of East Siberia, Moscow, 1883.
   19. Историческая Записка о Чукотскомъ народѣ (Вѣстникъ Императорскаго Русскаго Географическаго Общества, 1856, V). Historical Sketch of the Chukchee People (in Messenger of the Imperial Russian Geographical Society, 1856, V.).
   20. Карта Чукотской земли, составлена Плениснеромъ (Записки Гидрографическаго Департамента Морского Министерства 1852, Часть X). The Chart of the Chukchee Land, projected by Plenisner (in Memoirs of the Hydrographical Department, 1852, Part X).
   21. Барамыгинъ, М. Путевой Журналъ во время поѣздки въ Анюйскую Крепость (Записки Сибирскаго Отдѣла Императорскаго Русскаго Географическаго Общества, 57, кн. 4). Baramygin, M. Diary of the Voyage to Anui Fair, 1855 (in Memoirs of the Siberian Section of the Imperial Russian Geographical Society, 57, Vol. 4). For other authorities see references in the text.
   Discovery. -- The first information concerning the Chukchee was brought by the Cossack Michael Stadukhin, who, in 1644, went to the Kolyma River and founded the winter hamlet (зимовье) of Nishne-Kolymsk.
   Manykin-Nevstruyev says that the Kolyma River was discovered in the year 1638. Maydell mentions as the discoverer of the Kolyma the Cossack Ivan Erastov, with his companions. He says that in 1644 three winter hamlets were founded on the Kolyma River, -- Nishne-Kolyrrisk, Sredne-Kolymsk, and Verkhne-Kolymsk (Lower Kolymsk, Middle Kolymsk, and Upper Kolymsk). {Compare Maydell, II, p. 73.} I am not sure that all three hamlets were founded as early as that, and all in exactly the same year. On a copy of a chart of Siberia, made in the year 1672 all three winter hamlets are mentioned, -- the Lower, the Middle, and the Upper. Nishne-Kolymsk in some documents was called "Dog Fortress," doubtless because of the dogs used for driving. It was the largest of the three settlements. From Michael Stadukhin we have a report of the 2 2d of April, 1647, taken down, as was the custom, from his own words, by the Government clerk in the assembly-room (съезжая изба), in the presence of the two governors of the Yakutsk Province, Pushkin and Suponev. {The Russian governors (воеводы) of the Moscow period were often sent in pairs, partly with the idea that one would prevent any misdemeanor of the other.} In this report it is said that "the public-service official (служилый человѣкъ), {Thus were called all categories of soldiers and lower officials in the service of the Government.} Michael Stadukhin, who, in the past 154th year (1646), went from the Kolyma River with the Czar's tribute, relates that he was on the Kolyma River two years for collecting the Czar's tribute. The Kolyma is a great river of the size of the Lena, It runs in the same direction, east and north. On this Kolyma River live the natives, Kolyma men of their own tribe, driving [Reindeer] and walking [sedentary], {The Maritime (sedentary) Chukchee usually are called in the reports "walking," in contrast to the Reindeer division of the tribe. Among the Reindeer Chukchee each member of the family has a team of its own: so all can drive. Among the Maritime Chukchee a family usually has but one team, and most of the people have to walk. It seems that in earlier times the dog-teams of the Chukchee were still more unfit for swift and efficient driving than they are now, in comparison with the dogs of the Maritime Koryak and Russianized natives. So in a campaign the warriors of the Reindeer Chukchee were usually driving reindeer, while the warriors of the Maritime Chukchee had to walk.} -- numerous people, -- and they have a language of their own; on this Kolyma, and also on a separate river, the Chiukhcha (чюхча), -- and this river Chiukhcha flows directly to the sea, and its mouth lies on this side of the Kolyma River on our way (from the west),-- on this Chiukhcha River live natives of their own tribe. They are called 'Chiukhchee,' the same as the Samoyed, Reindeer and sedentary. He had a woman captive from the Kolyma, Kaliba by name. That woman had lived among the Chiukhcha for three years. She told him about the island which is in the sea, -- when going by ship to the Kolyma River, on the left hand. Those Chiukhcha, in the winter-time, go in one day from their dwelling-place on their river to that island, and there they kill walrus and bring home the walrus-heads with the tusks; and, according to their custom, they pray to those walrus-heads." Stadukhin himself had not seen any walrus-tusk, but the Russian hunters (промышленные люди) {Parties of hunters and traders used to go with the first conquerors of the new countries, Cossacks, and and other public-service men. They were also armed, and often took part in war-expeditions.} had told him that they had seen walrus-tusks in the possession of the Chiukhcha. He continues: "The runners of their reindeer-sledges are made of the same walrus-tusk. These Chiukhcha have no sables, because they live on the tundra near the sea, and the best and the darkest sable comes from the Kolyma." {Supplements, III, Mo. 24, p. 99.}
   This report is very interesting. The name "Chiukhcha" is mentioned in it for the first time; and from the words of Stadukhin it follows that in that time, on the Chukchee River, to the west of the Kolyma, there lived natives called Chukchee, Reindeer and sedentary. I mentioned before that those natives were probably of Ča'ačên stock. {Compare p. 18.} Still more remarkable are the details concerning the walrus-hunt of those natives on one of the Bear Islands. Walrus, even in modern times, migrate to the northern shores of the Bear Islands; and the Reindeer Chukchee sometimes go over to those islands for the purpose of hunting them, just as described in the report. In the time of Stadukhin, however, walrus-hunting was evidently carried on more extensively. The natives brought home walrus-heads and prayed to them; that is, they arranged a certain ceremonial with walrus-heads. Up to the present, walrus-heads have played a prominent part in the principal ceremonials of the Maritime Chukchee. {Compare p. 389.}
   Wars. Seventeenth Century Wars. -- Soon after the discovery of the Kolyma, in 1647, the Cossack Basile Kolesnikov founded the fortress of Anadyr, though, according to other information, it was founded by Semen Deshnev in 1649. {Compare Plenisner, Chart of the Chukchee Land, drawn in 1763 (Memoirs of Hydrographical Department, 1852, Part X, p. 119). Plenisner was the chief officer of the country of Okhotsk in the sixties of the seventeenth century, and had much valuable information from the Cossacks and natives.} Semen Deshnev, with Theodote Alexeiev and Gerasim Ankudinov, after a first ineffectual attempt in the year 1647, succeeded a year later in rounding East Cape. Most of their ships were lost. Two stranded somewhere to the south of Anadyr. {The reports of Deshnev about this journey are well known in literature.} The year 1649 actually found several parties of Cossacks and service-men on the Anadyr. One party was headed by Semen Deshnev and the inspecting service official (служилый приказный человѣкъ) {An official of this kind was added to cossack parties to collect tribute and to take care of it.} Semen Motora. Another party was headed by Michael Stadukhin, who had come from the Kolyma River. Stadukhin made attempts to subjugate to himself all other parties, and to be the chief leader of the public officials of Anadyr. The strife brought forth several reports, which were presented to the Governor of Yakutsk. {Supplements, IV, pp. 9-27.} All these reports are just as interesting as the report of Michael Stadukhin concerning the Kolyma.
   Thus one Theodore Vetoshka, in a report of 1655, says, "In the past 157th year (1649) it became known on the Kolyma River -- from the lips of Angara, the hostage of the Khodyntzy, {Compare p. 18.} whom we, your slaves [the report is formulated as a direct address to the Czar], took on the upper stream of the Anui River, and from other captives in the same raid of ours -- that a new trans-mountain river, the Anadyr, {In these oldest reports Kolyma is often called "Kovyma", and Anadyr is called "Anandyr."} comes quite near to the upper course of the Anui. By reason of these facts we have gathered together among ourselves volunteer hunters, and we have struck the ground (i. е., petitioned) before you, О Czar! because we desired to go to that new country with the intention of bringing down the tributeless tribes under your high hand, and we had to give into your treasury forty sables. Then we were given leave to undertake that service, together with the public officials Semen Motora and comrades.... And in the same 157th year, in the month of July, the service-men Michael Stadukhin and comrades made an attempt to go by sea from the Kolyma River to the new river Pahycha, {The name "Pahycha River" is repeated several times in the reports. The Pahycha River is said to be rich in sables. Some recent scientists have suggested that this name may have referred to the Amur River, which in reality, even up to the present, abounds in sables; but the natives of the Kolyma hardly knew anything of the distant Amur. They had knowledge only of the nearest rivers, such as the Anadyr and the Penshina. Of these rivers, the Anadyr is mentioned as being, even at that time, poor in sable. The next large river is the Poqa'č, which forms the northern boundary-line of the sable territory, and which even now, when the sable is rapidly vanishing in the north, still has some of the darkest and most valuable sables. It is quite probable that the natives of the Kolyma, when speaking of Pahycha, had in mind this Poqa'c River; and also the Kolyma Cossacks, in their search for sable, wanted to find the said Poqa'č, the boundary-line of the sable territory.} but came back from the sea to the Kolyma on Sept. 7. When we came over the mountain to the Anadyr River, and he (Michael Stadukhin) was going down the Anadyr and passed by our camp, he sent to us, requesting that we come to him and ask to be accepted into his regiment, and stating that if we did not consent, he would order all of us to be exterminated. Then he took from us .by force the inspecting official Semen Motora, and put him into the stocks for nine days, and extorted from him a paper promising to remain under his (Michael's) command.''
   It seems that Michael Stadukhin could not accomplish his purpose. So in the next year, the 158th (1650), on April 23, according to another report, Semen Motora and comrades went to the winter hamlet of Semen Deshnev, founded for tribute purposes. Then follows in the report a description of the continuous warfare against the natives.
   "The Anadyr River is populous," say the Cossacks, "and the men in the public service are too few. In the 159th year (1651) we went against the people of Anauli, {Compare p. 18. 2 Half of verst is about a third of a mile.} and God helped us to take their fortified hamlet (острожекъ). They had stakes prepared for the purpose, axes' put on long handles, and knives. We fought with them hand to hand. They killed four of our men and wounded many with those stakes; and in the 160th year (1652), Dec. 7, in a similar fight, they shot at us, and killed Semen Motora, the inspecting official."
   The Cossacks asked for sables: but the Anauli men said, "We have no sables, because we do not live in the woods. The Reindeer people come to us. When they come, we shall buy sables from them and bring the tribute to the Czar." And in this 163d year (1655), adds the report, Kolupai and Lok, the Anauli hostages, went to the mountains to buy sables from the Reindeer- Khodyntzy men for tribute.
   This report shows that the Anauli and the Khodyntzy were friendly among themselves. The former lived on the river; the latter had reindeer, and wandered with them on the mountain with wood and sables: i.e., to the south from the Anadyr River. Both tribes were probably of Chuvantzy stock, though the latter are mentioned separately as a Reindeer people. At the same time the tribute hostages, Chekchoi and brothers, presented a petition: "Over the mountain from the Penshina River there have come to us numerous unpeaceful Koryak men. They have murdered our kinsmen, plundered our houses, captured our wives and children, and driven away the reindeer. We suffer pillage and abuse all the time from those people, and we cannot abide it any longer." The Koryak frontier lay somewhere along the upper course of the Penshina River, nearly as it is at present. The country on the Anadyr River and its affluents was occupied by several branches of the Chuvantzy stock, Reindeer and sedentary, such as the Khodyntzy, the Anauli, and the Chuvantzy proper.
   In another report Semen Deshnev and his comrades say, "And in the 160th year (1652) we went by ship to sea, and at the mouth of the Anadyr River we found a spit. It came into the sea beyond the bay. On that spit the walrus come out, and on that spit may be found the tusks of the dead walrus. They come in great numbers, and their place on the cape is all around for more than half a verst, {210-280 feet.} and upshore for thirty or forty sashen. {A sashen is equivalent to 7 feet.} All the game does not come from the water to the shore. Much of it is in the water near the shore; and the hunters who are from the Russian Arctic Sea say that game is less numerous in the Russian Sea."
   The spit mentioned here is probably Geek Cape, on the south end of Anadyr Bay, called in Chukchee Gi'ggrin. Even nowadays walrus are in the habit of going to that low sandy shore, and the Anadyr Chukchee and Cossacks visit it for hunting-purposes; but the walrus-herds of the ancient time have dwindled down to little groups, and no tusks of dead animals can be found on the shore.
   At the time of the first conquest, walrus were so numerous, that one party of public-service men presented to the Treasury fifty puds {2000 Russian pounds; i.e., 1600 pounds Avoirdupois.} of walrus-ivory. The report of that party says, "We found on the spit near the mouth of the Anadyr River ivory of dead walrus. We gathered that ivory, put away for the Czar three puds of it, {120 Russian pounds, or 96 pounds Avoirdupois.} and the remainder we divided among ourselves. Altogether, we gathered for the Czar a great profit, -- fifty puds of walrus-ivory, the first pud three tusks, the second pud four tusks, etc." So the tusks of the first pud each weighed twelve pounds Avoirdupois. The same report states, "In the 1626. year (1654), when we were on that spit for the purpose of gathering those walrus-tusks, close to that spit lived also some Koryak people, who slunk along with the intention of murder. Then I, Yuriy, and my comrades, and the service-men Semen Deshnev and comrades, went against those men, and found their hamlet, fourteen large houses. And their place was fortified; but with the aid of God we took that fort, and also women and children. The best men, however, escaped, and took with them their wives and children. Because they were quite numerous, each house had ten families and more. We, on the contrary, were not many, -- twelve men in all."
   The Koryak in question could have been no other people than the Ke'rek from Cape Navarin. Though at the present time quite wretched and rapidly dying out, the Ke'rek, according to their own traditions, were in former times much more numerous, had large boats, and lived on walrus. They also may have been in the habit of going to the Anadyr spit for hunting. Nowadays almost the whole number of the Ke'rek tribe hardly equals the population of that single ancient village, which, according to the report, had fourteen large houses, with ten families and more in each house. {For the present villages of the Ke'rek compare Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 440. The data were collected by myself. The largest village has three houses and fifty inhabitants. Other villages have mostly one single house and some twenty or twenty-five inhabitants.}
   In this way the Kolyma and the Anadyr Rivers were occupied by the Russians. The chief desire of the Cossacks was for sable peltries, and everywhere they asked the natives for these. As mentioned above, the Kolyma River, which for the last fifty years has known no sables, abounded at that time, on the contrary, in the best, very dark sable. According to Slovtzov, in the eighteenth century the fair of Sredne-Kolymsk brought to the treasury as the usual tithe ninety doublescores {Sables were counted by doublescores.} of sables. Therefore the whole number of sables brought to the fair was about thirty-six thousand.
   The Anadyr River, on the other hand, as may be seen from the reports quoted above, even in earlier times, had no sables because of the scarcity of wood. In the first years, however, the Cossacks succeeded in extorting from the natives a considerable number of sable-skins, whole and split, probably acquired by the natives from their southern neighbors. On the Anadyr River and to the north of Kolymsk, the Cossacks turned their attention to walrus-tusks, which were also of great value. According to a record contained in one of the reports mentioned, fourteen sables were equivalent to one pud of walrus-ivory; so that the fifty puds of walrus-ivory mentioned above were equivalent to seven hundred sables; i.e., to seventeen double-scores and a half of sable-peltries. Numerous decrees of the Government were issued in reference to the quality of the tribute to be collected from the natives. Most of them say, "You have to take good and whole sables, without bare spots, with tails and with bellies; and you must not take as Czar's tribute sables not whole, and with bare spots, or rotten and torn ones, and not full-haired. You have to take the tribute and presents and enter them in the tribute-books, year after year, and one name after another. You have to take of walrus-tusks, as tribute, only the best, and of medium size. Small tusks, weighing less than one pound each, you must not take for tribute."
   A great number of natives were exterminated by the conquerors. The reports are full of remarks like the following: "The village was taken, and all the people put to death." The natives defended themselves with the courage of despair; but in the contests, they could do no more than kill a few of the assailants. Then they had to give way before steel blades and fire-arms. Those that were left alive promised to pay tribute, and gave the best men as hostages. The Cossacks, however, were quite far from enjoying their position. The northern clime and the conditions of life were too severe even for those adventurers. Thus one report says, "We live on dead red-fish [several species of Oncorhyncus, such as O. keta, O. niarka, O. gorbtisha! Of white-fish we catch but little, because we have no good nets. We do not dare to feed the Czar's hostages with that dead fish, lest they die from scurvy: so we spare the white-fish and feed them with that." Another report says, "We are starving to death, we feed on cedar-bark. Whatever fish was left we spared for the hostages, and portioned that off to them."
   Along with war came trade with the natives. Thus, in the year 1.646 a certain Isai Ignatyev went by sea from the mouth of the Kolyma eastwards. He was passing between the ice-fields and the shore, and went as far as Chaun Bay. There he carried on traffic with the Chukchee, and then returned to the Kolyma. {Shcheglov, p. 96.}
   In 1649 a public-service man of the Yakutsk fortress, Timothy Bulgakoff, was sent to the Kolyma. He left the mouth of the Lena, and reached the Omoloi River. There be staid for four weeks, because of the ice and the unfavorable weather. After that he went farther, but could not reach the Kolyma: so he turned back toward the mouth of the Lena. On the way he met eight galiots (galleys) full of the Czar's serving-men, traders and adventurers, who also were waiting for a favorable wind. At last the south wind cleared off the ice. So they joined forces and set off for the open sea. At sea they met four other ships going from the Kolyma. Near the Bay of Khroma all of them were caught in the ice. The ships were crushed; but the people escaped on ice-floes, and after many hardships succeeded in landing at the mouth of the Indighirka River. {Shcheglov, p. 101.}
   This lively movement of the Russians in the Arctic waters of eastern Siberia presents a strange contrast to their modern inactivity. The Russian Creoles, the descendants of the first conquerors, forgot the art of constructing ships and their use. One of the reasons of this was that those ships were too helpless and unwieldy to be used for travel among the ice of the Arctic Ocean, and almost every other voyage ended in ruin.
   The ships used by the Cossacks were called "cocha" (коча, pi. кочи). They were large and uncouth, made of wooden planks tied together with split willow-roots. These were fastened in the drill-holes with wooden pins. Sphagnum was used for caulking. A heavy stone served for an anchor. The sails were made, for the most part, of curried reindeer-skins sewed together. Up to the present time the small river-boats of the Kolyma River have been built in the same way by Russian Creoles and by the Yukaghir of the Upper Kolyma. By the way, the Yukaghir far surpass the Russians at present in their skill in making boats, and their boats are eagerly bought by Russians in Sredne-Kolymsk and Nishne-Kolymsk, though there cannot be the slightest doubt that the Yukaghir learned the art of boat-making from the Russians.
   The art of constructing those clumsy ships was almost lost as early as the beginning of the eighteenth century. Thus, in one of the reports of the first years of the. eighteenth century, the Cossacks say, "Our ships are small, and the sails weak. We are unable to make larger ships, as in former times."
   For the next half-century we have only one historical date, 1690. In this year the Cossack officer Basile Kusnetzov went on an expedition to the country of the Koryak, and then to the country of the Chukchee. There he was murdered by the Chukchee, together with all his followers. {Acts, V, p. 353.}
   Wars in the Eighteenth Century. -- From the first years of the eighteenth century we have again a series of interesting reports of Cossacks and service-men. One of these reports, of March 14, 1710, runs as follows: {Compare p. 18, also p. 684.}
   "In the year 1701 the tribute-men of Anadyr, the Yukaghir of the Khodynsky clan, {Monuments, II, No. 122, p. 524.} Nekrasko and his kinsmen, petitioned the official of Anadyr, the boyar-son (боярскій сынъ) {Thus were called the members of a large class of gentry. They must be distinguished from boyars proper, who belonged to the nobility. In origin the boyar-sons were probably the descendants of those boyars who had lost the greater part of their wealth and influence.} Semen Chernyshevsky, asking him to send service-men against the unpeaceful Chukchee of Anadyr Cape, who assaulted them, -- the Yukaghir, -- in the time of reindeer-hunting, with murder and depredation. According to that petition Semen sent the narrators -- twenty-four Russians and one hundred and ten Yukaghir and Koryak -- against the Chukchee. They left in the month of April, and were on the expedition twenty-eight weeks. They found on the seacoast thirteen houses of the walking (sedentary) Chukchee, and requested them to bow down under the high hand of the great Czar and to pay tribute; but the Chukchee gave no tribute, and retreated into their houses. The Cossacks made an attack. Ten men were killed, and their wives and children taken captive. Many of the captives strangled themselves and stabbed each other to death. Other Chukchee escaped, and all of them began to gather in one place on the cape. The Cossacks going back from the battle-place met them, about three hundred, and fought again and killed two hundred and more. The others escaped. The next day they met the Chukchee again in great numbers, Reindeer and walking (sedentary) Chukchee, three thousand and more. They fought the whole day until evening, and killed many; but the Chukchee also wounded seventy men among the Cossacks and the tribute-paying Yukaghir. After that the Chukchee retreated and staid not far away. The Cossacks were besieged by them for five days, and then fled to the Anadyr."
   According to another report, the public official Ivan Lokosov, in the year 1709, was sent against the unpeaceful Chukchee. He brought one Chukchee man, who consented to pay tribute, also the Cossack son Ivan Ankudinov, who was captured by the Chukchee and lived in captivity twelve years and a half. {Полтретьядцзть; i.e., half of the third to ten. V. Andrieyevich states erroneously "one and a half" (Andrieyevich, I, p. 121).}
   In still another report, some public-service men -- Ivan Zerkalnikov. Athanase Troizkoi, Cyril Jaravlev -- say, "We were going by sea from the fortress of Zashiversk fon the Indighirka River] under Daniel Busormanov, along the coast, off the ice. The water was shallow and difficult; the weather, unfavorable. God gave us no way. We had many halts, and could not reach the mouth of the Kolyma River, and Daniel Busormanov remained on the shallow coast near the mouth of the Konkova River. We were starving. So he, Daniel, sent us by tundra to the winter hamlet (зимовье) of the Lower Kolyma. We lost our way and fed on weeds, and reached the Kolyma on the tenth day, where we found Cossacks occupied with fishing. There we have staid until this present year 1710. In January of this year some Chukchee robbers came with deceit to the Lower Kolyma winter hamlet. One of them was taken captive, Ni'tkal, according to his Chukchee name. The said Ni'tkal said that Daniel Busormanov, going by sea, did not recognize the mouth of the Kolyma, and passed beyond as far as the mouth of the Big River; and there the Shelag Chukchee murdered him and his comrades." {Monuments, II, No. 123, p. 527.} This is the first direct mention of the unknown Shelag, much earlier than that by Wrangell. {Compare p. 17.}
   Still more interesting is the report of Sept. 2, 1711, presented in the fortress of Anadyrsk, in the judicial chamber (судная изба), to the officer Matthew Skrebykin by the serving-man Popov, who was sent to the Chukchee Land to collect information concerning the Chukchee, and also to invite them to pay tribute.
   The report says, "He [Popov] and the Anadyr hunter George Toldin, and the newly baptized Yukaghir Ivan Tereshkin, went from the mouth of the Anadyr to Chukchee Cape. And those unpeaceful Chukchee said that before that the Russian men had come to them by sea, {Probably Semen Deshnev and his men, in 1648.} but they had paid them no tribute. Likewise at the present time they would not pay anything, nor would they give hostages... And from that cape he came with his comrades to the Anadyr River, and collected tribute from the River Chukchee Nokon and his comrades, -- five red foxes, ope fox from every man. The Reindeer Chukchee live on the cape along the hills. The 'walking' Chukchee live on both sides of the cape, in earthen houses along the spits, near the sea, where the walrus dwell... According to their custom, the Chukchee, when concluding an agreement, call on the Sun as a witness.
   "And opposite that Anadyr Cape, on both sides of the Kolyma Sea and of the Anadyr Sea, there is to be seen an island. About that island, the Cape Chukchee Makachkin and his kinsmen have told him for quite certain that there live upon that island (large) toothed people. Their religion and customs and language are different from those of the Chukchee, and since ancient times there has been no peace between the Cape Chukchee and those island people. They attack each other and fight. The fighting of the islanders is with bows, and of the Chukchee the same. Of those island people he has seen among the Chukchee about ten or more taken captive. Besides their natural teeth, they have small pieces of walrus-ivory put in through the cheeks close to the natural teeth.
   "And from the Cape to that Island it is possible to go in the summertime in one day, in a baidara with oars; and in the wintertime, with reindeer, also in one day. Upon this island are game of every kind, sables and martens, foxes, polar foxes, wolves, wolverenes, polar bears, marine beavers (sea-otters). They feed on, sea-game, roots and berries, and weeds. Upon this island also are trees of every kind, -- cedar, pine, fir, larch. And the wood of those island trees they (Peter and his comrades) have seen in the houses, on the baidaras and canoes of those Chukchee. And those island people live in the same way as the Chukchee, and they have no authorities. And on the Cape there are no peltries besides wolves and red foxes, and even those are few, because there is no wood at all. And these Chukchee, Reindeer and walking [sedentary] have bow-men, approximately about two thousand, besides those of the Anadyr River, who have fifty bow-men and more. As to the island people, Makachkin and the captive islanders said to him, to Peter and his comrades, 'They are three times as numerous as the Chukchee;' and he (Makachkin) has been visiting that island on war-expeditions during many years. And the Chukchee call that island a large land." {Monuments, I, No. 108, p. 456.}
   This description of polar America adjacent to Bering Sea is quite clear and detailed. One must not forget that it was made seventeen years earlier than the voyage of Bering. "(Large-) toothed" is evidently a translation of the Chukchee "(large-) mouthed" (yikirga'uht). {Compare p. 21.} Semen Deshnev, in his reports of 1648, also mentions the (large-) toothed men living on two small islands, evidently on the Diomede Islands. Not without interest is the mention of the River Chukchee of the Anadyr, Nokon and his comrades, who paid tribute for five men. Up to the present time the River Chukchee of the Middle Anadyr pay about the same amount of tribute. Much in use among them is the name "Nikon." This name is of Greek origin, and belongs to the Greek-Orthodox calendar; but it may have some connection with the name "Nokon" of the beginning of the eighteenth century.
   From all this information it may be seen that the war against the Chukchee was carried on almost without interruption, and certainly without mercy. The Chukchee, however, in this respect, did not remain behind the Russians.
   I collected in the village Pokhotsk, on the Lower Kolyma, several interesting tales of the inroads and raids of the Chukchee against the Russian settlements on both the Kolyma and the Anadyr. Pokhotsk, for example, is a large village at the western mouth of the Kolyma. It is inhabited by the descendants of the ancient Cossacks, who in 1876 were transferred to the burghess class (мещане). The former Cossack race has preserved itself in that village comparatively in its purest form. The tales probably refer to the first decades of the eighteenth century: --
   "It was in the Chukochya (adjective from Chukchee) hamlet. This hamlet lies forty miles to the west of Pokhotsk. It is now uninhabited, save that some fishing is done there early in the fall. There was a watch-tower there. Now it has fallen down, and lies on its side. It happened long ago. The tower was built to watch from there for the Chukchee. It was quite large. Every wall was four sashen (twenty-eight feet) high. Its top was on exactly the same level as the church in the town (of Nishne-Kolymsk). It had two floors, one below and another above. One time an old man stood on the top of the tower watching. The morning was dawning. He looked over the river (a tributary of the Kolyma, the so-called 'Chukchee Channel,' quite narrow and quiet). The trunk of a tree, lying on its side, was visible, and all at once it appeared to him as if a man clad in a Chukchee overcoat, -- an overcoat made of seal-intestines, similar to our window-covering,-- were stepping over that trunk. The old man said to the younger people, 'Look here, boys! It seems as if the Chukchee were stealing about and wanted to attack our village.' The younger people did not believe him. He took a bag on his back, a walking-staff in his hand, and walked away to Pokhotsk. They staid there for the summer, then for the fall also. When the nights grew longer, the Chukchee came, surprised them in their sleep, and killed all of them. As soon as any one ran out of the house, they would kill him then and there. Two brothers, however, were so nimble that the Chuckchee could not, in spite of all their efforts, either stab them with spears, or hit them with arrows. So they ran about. At last the older brother passed by an old Chukchee woman sitting on a reindeer-sledge, -- so old she could hardly walk. She threw a bone arrow at him and hit him under the knee. He fell down, and exclaimed, 'Oh, you, my brother! Do you want to live in the world all alone by yourself? How could you live like that?' The other immediately surrendered, and both were killed. Still another young man fell down among the dead with face upwards, simulating death. He lay there thus, and looked on. They dressed one brother in an overcoat of white reindeer-skins, and on the other one they put an overcoat of spotted reindeer-skins. They laid the first one on bedding of white skin, and the other on bedding of spotted skin. The old woman, unable to walk, crept along from corpse to corpse, and looked into each face. When she reached the one feigning death, she took her tailoring-knife. It was of iron and very old, with no edge, because the Chukchee in that time had hardly any iron. With that blunt-edged knife she began to chop him quite slowly across the forehead. Tap, tap! tap, tap! She broke all the middle portion of his forehead; but he uttered not a sound, God granted him such patience. When they had gone, he arose and went to Pokhotsk with the news. The report was sent to the fortress of Nishne-Kolymsk. At that time the Cossacks in the fortress were as numerous as mosquitoes. The magazines, at present empty, were filled with flour up to the ceiling. So a party was sent, properly armed, to overtake the Chukchee. They came to the Chukochya hamlet, and saw smoke off the ridge of hills, -- the so-called 'Chukchee Ridge,' to the west of the Kolyma. Still they did not want to have a fight. In those days they were afraid of the very name of the Chukchee. So they played false, and said nothing about the smoke. They came back and said, 'We have seen nothing.'
   "In after times the Chukchee related the following: 'We came from over the river upon the ice, and spent the summer on the Chukchee Ridge. When the Russians came to hunt moulting geese, we tried to throw our grass insoles {The grass insoles of the Chukchee boot are more obtuse and rounder at the toe than those of the Russians. An experienced eye can distinguish without much trouble one from the other (compare p. 239).} across the path of those who were friendly to us, in order to make them think of it; but they paid no attention.' After that the Chukchee wandered in various directions. One party reached the Indighirka River. Some young men went to hunt geese. There was an old man, Portniaghin, on the Portniaghin fishing-coast. They came to him, and said, 'It is very strange! When we are hunting geese, Chukchee bone arrows come over to us from somewhere. One of our number has already been killed. Still, when we land on the shore and look for the enemy, we are unable to find anything.' He said, 'Take me to that place. Perhaps I can find them.' So they went together. 'Where is the place?' -- 'This here.' They landed, and ascended the bank, but nobody was there. Only a number of hummocks were to be seen on the swampy plain, -- very many of them, and quite big ones. 'There!' said the old man, 'shoot at those hummocks!' They shot at the hummocks. With every shot a Chukchee man falls down. The Chukchee would tear up a hummock, and dig out a place under it. Then they would sit down and cover themselves with hummocks, {This episode is perhaps connected with the name the Chukchee sometimes give to themselves in their folk-stories, "Hummocky-Heads" (cf. p. 33).} looking through the long grass hanging around. Thus they killed them all, and they were more than twenty.
   "Another party went across the tundra, and arrived at the hamlet Duvannoye, on the Kolyma River. It-was in the night-time. Numerous people lived there. The Chukchee killed them all. Previously they had pierced with knives the bottoms of the boats lying on the shore, so that when the people tried to flee to the river with these boats, the boats sank and the people were drowned. From there the Chukchee went to the mouth of the Omolon River, but the Yukaghir of Omolon drove them back. They tell that tale themselves. Many other Chukchee dispersed on the tundra. The ancient Yukaghir used to put beads into their dead-falls for bait. They would string them on a thread and hang them inside, and connect them with the trigger. The Chukchee would creep in for these beads, and then be caught under the falling weight. The owner would come and see the blockhead lying there still alive. Then the Chukchee would try to speak Russian: 'Kotora topora, shita, bita!' The Russian would thereupon treat the guest to whatever he had in his hand, were it axe or spear. So after a while all of them were exterminated."
   Another tale is as follows: --
   "On the Anadyr side there were also numerous people, and the Chukchee exterminated all of them. There was a town there. People lived in that town early in the fall. Then in the evening ravens began to gather from all sides, croaking incessantly. The old men and the old women would say, 'Why are they croaking so? It seems as if the Chukchee wanted to attack us again!' Some gave credence, and others did not. Then the Chukchee really came at early dawn, attacked them in their sleep, killed the men, and took the women captive. One woman had a babe at the breast. She fled with that child in her arms. After a while she heard pursuers coming. Looking back, she saw two men driving reindeer and following her. When she looked back, one shot at her and hit the baby. So it was killed. The mother fell over the little one with a loud wail. They caught her and carried her away. She had a knife, so she drew it forth and killed herself. Three other women were led away by the Chukchee. On the way one escaped. There was a steep, overhanging river-bank partly fallen down. She crept into the hollow, and they could not find her. They thrust their spears into the hollow, pierced her coat in several places, but were unable to hit her body. They spent a whole day there, and at last went away. Two other women were carried away. Their husbands were absent. Both were rich. When they came back and found no wives, they began to prepare something by way of ransom. They bought tobacco. Those Chukchee lived on an island across the strait. The two husbands went in a boat to that island. One woman, seeing her husband, began to cry. The other was quite insensible. At the same time both had nursing infants in their arms. The men offered ransom, -- a bagful of tobacco for each head. The Chukchee said, 'We will give back the women, but the children we will not give back.' So they put the women into the boat and rowed away. The Chukchee husbands stood on the shore with the babes in their arms. As soon as the women left, one of the Chukchee wailed aloud and slapped himself on his thighs with open palms. 'Oh, but I am a fool! I took the tobacco and lost the woman! Where shall I find another one like her!' The other was silent, as if insensible; and lo, the other woman three times fled back to the Chukchee. Twice she was rescued betimes; the third time she was lost altogether. Doubtless the Chukchee altered her soul by means of shamanistic magic."
   It is not easy to distinguish in these stories the element of fiction from possible historical events. The watch-tower in the Chukochya hamlet really existed. When visiting the place, I have seen its ruins on the ground. The watch was probably directed against the western people living on the Big Chukchee River. We find thereabouts a number of geographical names connected with the Chukchee, -- Chukchee Channel, Chukchee Ridge, Chukochya Hamlet. {Compare p. 16.} Still the story mentions that the Chukchee came over from the other side of the river.
   The attack of the Chukchee on the hamlet Duvannoye is also an historical fact. Even the name Duvannoye ("Spoil Shared") is connected with the attack. In front of the hamlet stands a high wooden crucifix, as is the custom in many Russian villages of the Kolyma. The inhabitants show the traces of Chukchee arrows that were shot at that crucifix during the assault. A number of other names of villages and localities of the Lower Kolyma have reference to the atrocities supposed to have been perpetrated by the Chukchee invaders, -- the village Pogromnoye ("Destroyed One"), the river Ubiyenna ("Murdered One"), the river Tomilina ("Languishing"). {According to tradition, a young girl, wounded by the Chukchee, was languishing on the shores of that river.}
   In the story referring to the Anadyr, some episodes are clearly borrowed from Chukchee folk-tales. Thus the episode of the woman who concealed herself in the hollow and escaped the thrusts of the spear is met with in the Chukchee tale about "Ele'ndi and his Sons" which has been mentioned several times before. In that tale it concerns a Chukchee girl captured by Koryak invaders. The episode of the ransoming of captive women from an island across the strait must have been taken from a Chukchee tale referring to a war with the American Eskimo.
   Pavlutsky's Expedition. -- I presume that the Chukchee raids may have been one among other causes which led to the organization of the military expedition of Shestakov and Pavlutsky, the most important of all that ever had place in those countries. It began in the year 1729; and in the next year Shestakov was defeated, and perished. {These were the years in which the great expedition of Bering took place. Krasheninnikoff mentions that the ship "Gabriel," which was at the disposal of that expedition, also took part in the war against the Chukchee. This ship visited Chukchee Cape. The inhabitants fled, and left their houses; and the Cossacks took from them various things, among other objects a chain cut from a whole walrus-tusk, Koryak fashion (Krasheninnikoff, II, p. 51).} Pavlutsky undertook several more expeditions; but he also was defeated, and perished in the year 1747. Mr. Jochelson {Vol. VI of this series, p. 789.} has given most of the details of those expeditions, and has also discussed the strange theory of Maydell, who wanted to prove that most of the Chukchee fighting was treacherously done by disguised Koryak.
   I have mentioned some details in regard to the death of Pavlutsky, taken chiefly from local tradition. A few more facts may be added from historical sources. According to Slovtzov, the first expedition of Pavlutsky started in 1731 from the fortress of Anadyrsk, and proceeded northward to the Arctic Sea. He had two hundred and fifteen Russians and about two hundred Koryak and Yukaghir. After two months of marching, he reached the seashore, and travelled along it for two weeks. Then he had an encounter with the Chukchee. Three battles were fought in the course of a month. The Chukchee were defeated. Pavlutsky turned to the Bay of Anadyr, and reached Anadyrsk on Oct. 21. According to other information, Pavlutsky took a great number of reindeer, also about three hundred Chukchee women, who, however, all perished on the way to Yakutsk. Notwithstanding all such captures, Chukchee female prisoners are but rarely mentioned in the lists of population of those districts, of which we have several referring to the period spoken of. Thus, in the register of 1762, among the population of Nishne-Kolymsk is mentioned one captive woman, a Chukchee native, Lili'ña. In the documents of 1811 is mentioned an old Cossack widow, Krasnoyarov, born a Chukchee woman, Shishukha (probably Ci'čeñe), etc.
   In 1738 about two thousand Chukchee, armed with bows, made a raid against the Koryak of the Anadyr district, killed many, and drove off their reindeer-herds. In 1741 the Cabinet Council of Russia resolved to increase the garrison of Anadyrsk and to renew the war. The Cossack party soon gained such a victory over the Chukchee, that the Cossacks were able to replace the hard bread for three months and a half with dried meat captured from the Chukchee. The garrison included four hundred Cossacks and one hundred other men, besides the exiled criminals who also were sent to Anadyr until March of the year 1764. In the year 1747 the Chukchee began again to make inroads into the Koryak territory. On March 21, Pavlutsky went in pursuit of a large Chukchee party. He bade the main body of his soldiers to follow behind, and he himself went forward, having with him only eighty men. Soon he overtook the enemy, who were very numerous, standing on the hill, The Russians held a council. One lieutenant proposed to wait for the other party; but the other lieutenant, Gornitzyn, said angrily, "It seems that our Cossacks are warlike only at home, and in battle they are weak-hearted. The present is the time to strike the enemy." So they rushed onward, but a part of the Chukchee caught them from behind. A part of the Cossacks fled with driving-reindeer, and escaped the peril. Pavlutsky and some others fought valiantly, but were all killed. The hill here mentioned is, according to tradition, the Yukaghir Hill not far from Markova. The other stories mentioned before agree well with this historical account, and give even the same name of the lieutenant, who goaded the Cossacks on to battle. According to the tradition, he was the first to flee from the Chukchee. {Compare p. 653.}
   The war continued after Pavlutsky's defeat. The next year, 1748, there came to Anadyrsk a company of soldiers and some more Cossacks. In the year 1752 a hundred soldiers were sent to Anadyrsk under Major Shmalev. In the year 1759 the Chukchee besieged the fortress of Anadyrsk. The people were starving. At last Lieutenant Kekurov, with three hundred men, sallied forth through the besieging multitude, and secured provisions from a successful reindeer-hunt.
   Further details of the first expedition of Pavlutsky are contained in the report of eleven of its members, presented to Lieut-Col. Plenisner, the commandant of Okhotsk in the year 1763. {North Archive, 1825, Part 18, p. 176.} They vary slightly from the preceding account as to the number of soldiers and the dates of battles; and I should consider them quite trustworthy were it not for the fact that the report was written tnirty-two years after the events described. According to that report, Pavlutsky's party was made up of 236 Russians, and 280 Koryak and Yukaghir. They went across the desert to the Arctic Sea, and on reaching it, turned to the east. On May 9 they found a house of the Maritime Chukchee and murdered all the people. Shortly afterwards they found another house, and also murdered its inmates. Then they had a battle with a large party of Reindeer Chukchee, in which about four hundred and fifty of the enemy were killed, and a hundred and fifty women and children taken captive. On the Russian side two were killed and about seventy wounded, but none severely. After that they found a Chukchee fortress which was constructed of driving-sledges and pack-sledges, covered with walrus-hide and strengthened with large stones, hummocks, and earth.
   All this was bound around with thong. They took it and destroyed everything. Inside of it were five houses. {This fortress evidently belonged to the Reindeer Chukchee. All the details of the description are quite plausible, and correspond to the conditions of Reindeer Chukchee life. The people evidently constructed around their camp a kind of corral with all their sledges, and strengthened it by such means as are used against the fury of the tempest; but the Russians proved to be stronger than the tempest.} On the 29th of June there was a second battle. The Chukchee were about one thousand strong, and the battle lasted from morning until dinner-time. About three hundred were killed, but only ten were captured. All others escaped. At the same time large herds of reindeer were captured; in all, about forty thousand heads. In a third battle about five hundred Chukchee took part, about forty of whom were killed, and all the others escaped. One Cossack was also killed. They came to the Anadyr in the first days of November. In the summer-time they travelled on foot, carrying their flintlocks and ammunition. The provisions were carried on pack-reindeer. They had enough food, but several died on the expedition from various diseases.
   Another report of 1763 describes an expedition of Pavlutsky that was undertaken in 1744, and began on the 4th of February. Pavlutsky had with him four hundred Russians. The party went along the Pacific shore as far as Meči'wmin Bay, and then returned. Several Chukchee houses, of the Reindeer tribe as well as of the Maritime people, were destroyed, and the people exterminated. The Russian party suffered from want of fuel and also from starvation, and could hardly reach the shores of the Anadyr again. To the same year, 1763, belong three other reports, {North Archive, 1825, Part 18, p. 164.} taken down, one from Chukchee visitors to the Anadyr River; another from a Cossack who was taken captive by the Reindeer Chukchee and spent about two years with them; and the third from a captive woman, a native of America, who was taken by the islanders when ten years old, then sold to Reindeer Chukchee for an iron-headed spear and two white fawn-skins, and by her last owner given to a Cossack of Anadyr in exchange for a copper kettle. All these reports contain interesting details concerning the Chukchee and also about America. Regarding the Chukchee, the Russian captive mentions that he has seen how a father killed his son, and a brother killed another brother. Then he describes how the Yukaghir of the Anadyr came to the Chukchee to ransom off their captives. The Yukaghir brought tobacco, kettles, knives, axes, bows and arrows, and beads. They ransomed off nine people. The Chukchee were quite contented, and gave to the Yukaghir fawn-skin coats, white fawn-skins, white reindeer-leg skins, coats of marten-skin, red foxes. As to America, the Chukchee visitor, in the first report, mentions that the people living there are called Kykhmyn. {Compare the Chukchee term Ki'imin and Asiatic Eskimo Ki'xmi (p. 21). The exactness of this name shows how correct must have been also all the other information.} They have needles of copper. This copper is red, and they get it in their own country, but in which way they procure it he does not know. In the winter and in the spring those American people arrange large hunts for wild reindeer. They cut down for this purpose large abatis and arrange fences so that the reindeer are caught by thousands. They bring sacrifices to the sun and to the sea, saying, "I give you here a sacrifice from my labor. You also be my assistant in my need" (this short incantation is quite Chukchee, both in sense and in style). {Compare p. 474.}
   The captive woman said that the American people had houses made of green wood, poplar, larch, and aspen, beam to beam standing aslant. Their form is round. They are covered with earth. The summer lodges are also of round form, covered with reindeer-skins and walrus-hide. The store-rooms are dug into the ground. The people have no iron, with the exception of a few iron knives bought from the Chukchee. They obtain fire by striking one stone against another. They cook their food in earthen pots manufactured for the purpose.
   It may not be out of place to mention here several expeditions of Demetrius Laptev, the marine lieutenant who in 1739-42 surveyed the Arctic coast from the Lena River to the Large Baranov Cape, though his expeditions were purely scientific, and had no reference to Chukchee wars. Laptev, with his assistants, had to pass a winter in the desert, on the eastern branch of the Kolyma River, near the ocean. They built there, on Thick Cape, large wooden barracks and a high tower, standing apart, on the cape. Both are still standing at the present time. The tower is called by the people "Laptev's Beacon)." They say that a fire was burning on the top of this tower as a beacon for Laptev's people straggling in the desert, though the top of Thick Cape is much higher than the top of the tower, and more open to view, so that there was no need of a special wooden tower.
   I will also mention two merchants of Yakutsk, Shalaurov and Bakhov, who in 1755--64 went on several expeditions from the mouth of the Lena River eastwards. They went for trading-purposes, and got as far as Cape Erri. There they perished, with all their companions. The so-called Shalaurov barracks, which they built for use during one of those winters, are also still standing on the Lower Kolyma shore, near the ocean.
   Cessation of War. -- The expedition of Pavlutsky was the last military enterprise of the Russians against the Chukchee. Shortly after that the Government decided to abandon a plan which turned out to be so difficult and expensive, and which did not promise any valuable results.
   Mr. Jochelson's surmise that the cessation of Russian expeditions to the country of the Chukchee was due to the fact that the latter were poor in objects of tribute, {Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 785.} may be corroborated by evidence.
   Thus numerous reports of the Cossacks and public-service men, some of which I have already quoted, repeat always, "There [in the country of the Chukchee] is no game except wolves and red foxes, and even these are scarce because of the lack of wood." In answer to these reports, the Government issued orders as follows: "You are to. go there to the unpeaceful Chukchee, and request them to bow down under the Czar's high hand, to the eternal payment of tribute, and to take from them an oath of allegiance to arrange register-books and to have them taxed with tribute according to those books; and if in that country sables and foxes are really scarce, take for tribute walrus-ivory." {Walrus-ivory was costly enough, but that of the Bear Islands and at the mouth of the Anadyr was soon exhausted. The Reindeer Chukchee, who were the nearest to the Russian forts, and against whom the war was chiefly directed, did not even have walrus-tusks.}
   Seventeen years after the death of Pavlutsky began the breaking-up of the Russian military reign in the extreme northeast of Siberia. The fortress of Anadyrsk was given up in the year 1764. The Governor-General of East Siberia says in his report of Nov. 24, 1792, "The fortress of Anadyrsk, which existed during the years 1710-64, cost the Treasury 539,246 rubles, and it also caused a loss of 841,760 rubles to various peoples who had to carry Government freight, the total expenses being 1,381,607 rubles: revenue for the whole time, 29,152 rubles. For this reason it was abandoned in 1764." {Historical Sketch of the Chukchee People (Messenger of Imperial Russian Geographical Society, 1856, V.).} The total expense for one small arctic fort is almost incredibly large, especially when account is taken of the utter destitution of the inhabitants of Eastern Siberia; and when we consider the value of money in the eighteenth century, this total should really be trebled. As to the exact year of the abandonment of Anadyrsk, some historians give it as 1771. I found in the Archives of Nishne-Kolymsk, however, quite certain indications that this happened in 1764. The church of Anadyrsk was dismantled, and its, bells and utensils taken to Gishiginsk and Sredne-Kolymsk, in 1766. In 1774 the Anadyr bells were transferred from Sredne-Kolymsk to Gishiginsk.


   In 1769 the greater part of the military garrison of Nishne-Kolymsk was also recalled. {Archives.} According to the Register of 1762, the entire population of the fortress was, full-grown men, 585 ; children, 53; women, 236. Most of the people were soldiers, Cossacks, and "public-service men." Only a part of these Cossacks were left in the country. A century later the whole number of Russian full-grown men in the whole country of the Lower Kolyma was 128 (data taken from my census in 1895). The remaining Cossacks were used for various local needs, chiefly for guarding the Government store-houses and for carrying mail, also as orderlies, servants, and guides assigned to all officials of somewhat higher rank. Fig. 302 represents the envelope in which a package was sent by an extra messenger with the utmost speed. A swan-feather fastened to the paper with sealing-wax indicated to every one that the messenger had to fly onward like a bird, and no delay was to be suffered. A package of this kind is called "flying post."
   Perhaps it would be interesting to mention that some of these Cossacks were Fig. 302. Envelope officially seated. armed with bows as late as the thirties of the nineteenth century. Thus I have the list of Cossacks who were sent to the Anui fair in the year 1837. It runs as follows: "S. Kotelnikov, bow; Miron Popov, flintlock; Ivan Kyprianov, bow;" etc.
   These remaining Cossacks were divided into two parts. 1. Settled Cossacks (станичные казаки) lived in the village Pokhotsk, at the western mouth of the Kolyma and its dependencies. They had to perform only local service. In 1876 the settled Cossacks were partly dismissed, and partly transferred to the position of common citizens of the burghess class (мѣщане). 2. The serving Cossacks proper were scattered all over the country, chiefly in the towns of Sredne-Kolymsk and Nishne-Kolymsk. They formed two companies or "commandoes." Together with other Cossack companies scattered in various towns and districts of the Province of Yakutsk, they formed the Cossack regiment of Yakutsk, the single Cossack regiment belonging to the infantry, and governed, as an exception to the military rule, by the Minister of the Interior.
   Settlement on the Anadyr began again in the year 1784, but the new settlers were not so much Russians as Russianized natives. The village was moved to Markova, seven miles distant from the former site.
   The settlement of Nishne-Kolymsk was moved in 1773 to its present site. Before that it was situated fifteen miles away, on the so-called Stadukhin Channel. This channel was formerly a large branch of the river, but gradually it became shallow. The new settlement was founded on the main river, opposite the mouths of both Anui Rivers, which enter the Kolyma River almost at the same place. The new place had some houses before this transfer. It had no strategic advantages, but was excellently chosen for purposes of traffic. The old fort was surrounded by palisades. The new one had no palisades, though, according to a former tradition, it was also called a "fortress." Sredne-Kolymsk, on the Middle Kolyma, was also fortified in olden times. One small wooden tower still stands on the corner of the church courtyard on the hill in the middle of the town (see Plate xxxv, Fig. 1).
   In 1738 about two thousand Chukchee, armed with bows, made a raid against the Koryak of the Anadyr district, killed many, and drove off their reindeer-herds. In 1741 the Cabinet Council of Russia resolved to increase the garrison of Anadyrsk and to renew the war. The Cossack party soon gained such a victory over the Chukchee, that the Cossacks were able to replace the hard bread for three months and a half with dried meat captured from the Chukchee. The garrison included four hundred Cossacks and one hundred other men, besides the exiled criminals who also were sent to Anadyr until March of the year 1764. In the year 1747 the Chukchee began again to make inroads into the Koryak territory. On March 21, Pavlutsky went in pursuit of a large Chukchee party. He bade the main body of his soldiers to follow behind, and he himself went forward, having with him only eighty men. Soon he overtook the enemy, who were very numerous, standing on the hill, The Russians held a council. One lieutenant proposed to wait for the other party; but the other lieutenant, Gornitzyn, said angrily, "It seems that our Cossacks are warlike only at home, and in battle they are weak-hearted. The present is the time to strike the enemy." So they rushed onward, but a part of the Chukchee caught them from behind. A part of the Cossacks fled with driving-reindeer, and escaped the peril. Pavlutsky and some others fought valiantly, but were all killed. The hill here mentioned is, according to tradition, the Yukaghir Hill not far from Markova. The other stories mentioned before agree well with this historical account, and give even the same name of the lieutenant, who goaded the Cossacks on to battle. According to the tradition, he was the first to flee from the Chukchee. {Compare p. 653.}
   The war continued after Pavlutsky's defeat. The next year, 1748, there came to Anadyrsk a company of soldiers and some more Cossacks. In the year 1752 a hundred soldiers were sent to Anadyrsk under Major Shmalev. In the year 1759 the Chukchee besieged the fortress of Anadyrsk. The people were starving. At last Lieutenant Kekurov, with three hundred men, sallied forth through the besieging multitude, and secured provisions from a successful reindeer-hunt.
   Further details of the first expedition of Pavlutsky are contained in the report of eleven of its members, presented to Lieut-Col. Plenisner, the commandant of Okhotsk in the year 1763. {North Archive, 1825, Part 18, p. 176.} They vary slightly from the preceding account as to the number of soldiers and the dates of battles; and I should consider them quite trustworthy were it not for the fact that the report was written tnirty-two years after the events described. According to that report, Pavlutsky's party was made up of 236 Russians, and 280 Koryak and Yukaghir. They went across the desert to the Arctic Sea, and on reaching it, turned to the east. On May 9 they found a house of the Maritime Chukchee and murdered all the people. Shortly afterwards they found another house, and also murdered its inmates. Then they had a battle with a large party of Reindeer Chukchee, in which about four hundred and fifty of the enemy were killed, and a hundred and fifty women and children taken captive. On the Russian side two were killed and about seventy wounded, but none severely. After that they found a Chukchee fortress which was constructed of driving-sledges and pack-sledges, covered with walrus-hide and strengthened with large stones, hummocks, and earth.
   All this was bound around with thong. They took it and destroyed everything. Inside of it were five houses. {This fortress evidently belonged to the Reindeer Chukchee. All the details of the description are quite plausible, and correspond to the conditions of Reindeer Chukchee life. The people evidently constructed around their camp a kind of corral with all their sledges, and strengthened it by such means as are used against the fury of the tempest; but the Russians proved to be stronger than the tempest.} On the 29th of June there was a second battle. The Chukchee were about one thousand strong, and the battle lasted from morning until dinner-time. About three hundred were killed, but only ten were captured. All others escaped. At the same time large herds of reindeer were captured; in all, about forty thousand heads. In a third battle about five hundred Chukchee took part, about forty of whom were killed, and all the others escaped. One Cossack was also killed. They came to the Anadyr in the first days of November. In the summer-time they travelled on foot, carrying their flintlocks and ammunition. The provisions were carried on pack-reindeer. They had enough food, but several died on the expedition from various diseases.
   Another report of 1763 describes an expedition of Pavlutsky that was undertaken in 1744, and began on the 4th of February. Pavlutsky had with him four hundred Russians. The party went along the Pacific shore as far as Meči'wmin Bay, and then returned. Several Chukchee houses, of the Reindeer tribe as well as of the Maritime people, were destroyed, and the people exterminated. The Russian party suffered from want of fuel and also from starvation, and could hardly reach the shores of the Anadyr again. To the same year, 1763, belong three other reports, {North Archive, 1825, Part 18, p. 164.} taken down, one from Chukchee visitors to the Anadyr River; another from a Cossack who was taken captive by the Reindeer Chukchee and spent about two years with them; and the third from a captive woman, a native of America, who was taken by the islanders when ten years old, then sold to Reindeer Chukchee for an iron-headed spear and two white fawn-skins, and by her last owner given to a Cossack of Anadyr in exchange for a copper kettle. All these reports contain interesting details concerning the Chukchee and also about America. Regarding the Chukchee, the Russian captive mentions that he has seen how a father killed his son, and a brother killed another brother. Then he describes how the Yukaghir of the Anadyr came to the Chukchee to ransom off their captives. The Yukaghir brought tobacco, kettles, knives, axes, bows and arrows, and beads. They ransomed off nine people. The Chukchee were quite contented, and gave to the Yukaghir fawn-skin coats, white fawn-skins, white reindeer-leg skins, coats of marten-skin, red foxes. As to America, the Chukchee visitor, in the first report, mentions that the people living there are called Kykhmyn. {Compare the Chukchee term Ki'imin and Asiatic Eskimo Ki'xmi (p. 21). The exactness of this name shows how correct must have been also all the other information.} They have needles of copper. This copper is red, and they get it in their own country, but in which way they procure it he does not know. In the winter and in the spring those American people arrange large hunts for wild reindeer. They cut down for this purpose large abatis and arrange fences so that the reindeer are caught by thousands. They bring sacrifices to the sun and to the sea, saying, "I give you here a sacrifice from my labor. You also be my assistant in my need" (this short incantation is quite Chukchee, both in sense and in style). {Compare p. 474.}
   The captive woman said that the American people had houses made of green wood, poplar, larch, and aspen, beam to beam standing aslant. Their form is round. They are covered with earth. The summer lodges are also of round form, covered with reindeer-skins and walrus-hide. The store-rooms are dug into the ground. The people have no iron, with the exception of a few iron knives bought from the Chukchee. They obtain fire by striking one stone against another. They cook their food in earthen pots manufactured for the purpose.
   It may not be out of place to mention here several expeditions of Demetrius Laptev, the marine lieutenant who in 1739-42 surveyed the Arctic coast from the Lena River to the Large Baranov Cape, though his expeditions were purely scientific, and had no reference to Chukchee wars. Laptev, with his assistants, had to pass a winter in the desert, on the eastern branch of the Kolyma River, near the ocean. They built there, on Thick Cape, large wooden barracks and a high tower, standing apart, on the cape. Both are still standing at the present time. The tower is called by the people "Laptev's Beacon)." They say that a fire was burning on the top of this tower as a beacon for Laptev's people straggling in the desert, though the top of Thick Cape is much higher than the top of the tower, and more open to view, so that there was no need of a special wooden tower.
   I will also mention two merchants of Yakutsk, Shalaurov and Bakhov, who in 1755--64 went on several expeditions from the mouth of the Lena River eastwards. They went for trading-purposes, and got as far as Cape Erri. There they perished, with all their companions. The so-called Shalaurov barracks, which they built for use during one of those winters, are also still standing on the Lower Kolyma shore, near the ocean.
   Cessation of War. -- The expedition of Pavlutsky was the last military enterprise of the Russians against the Chukchee. Shortly after that the Government decided to abandon a plan which turned out to be so difficult and expensive, and which did not promise any valuable results.
   Mr. Jochelson's surmise that the cessation of Russian expeditions to the country of the Chukchee was due to the fact that the latter were poor in objects of tribute, {Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 785.} may be corroborated by evidence.
   Thus numerous reports of the Cossacks and public-service men, some of which I have already quoted, repeat always, "There [in the country of the Chukchee] is no game except wolves and red foxes, and even these are scarce because of the lack of wood." In answer to these reports, the Government issued orders as follows: "You are to. go there to the unpeaceful Chukchee, and request them to bow down under the Czar's high hand, to the eternal payment of tribute, and to take from them an oath of allegiance to arrange register-books and to have them taxed with tribute according to those books; and if in that country sables and foxes are really scarce, take for tribute walrus-ivory." {Walrus-ivory was costly enough, but that of the Bear Islands and at the mouth of the Anadyr was soon exhausted. The Reindeer Chukchee, who were the nearest to the Russian forts, and against whom the war was chiefly directed, did not even have walrus-tusks.}
   Seventeen years after the death of Pavlutsky began the breaking-up of the Russian military reign in the extreme northeast of Siberia. The fortress of Anadyrsk was given up in the year 1764. The Governor-General of East Siberia says in his report of Nov. 24, 1792, "The fortress of Anadyrsk, which existed during the years 1710-64, cost the Treasury 539,246 rubles, and it also caused a loss of 841,760 rubles to various peoples who had to carry Government freight, the total expenses being 1,381,607 rubles: revenue for the whole time, 29,152 rubles. For this reason it was abandoned in 1764." {Historical Sketch of the Chukchee People (Messenger of Imperial Russian Geographical Society, 1856, V.).} The total expense for one small arctic fort is almost incredibly large, especially when account is taken of the utter destitution of the inhabitants of Eastern Siberia; and when we consider the value of money in the eighteenth century, this total should really be trebled. As to the exact year of the abandonment of Anadyrsk, some historians give it as 1771. I found in the Archives of Nishne-Kolymsk, however, quite certain indications that this happened in 1764. The church of Anadyrsk was dismantled, and its, bells and utensils taken to Gishiginsk and Sredne-Kolymsk, in 1766. In 1774 the Anadyr bells were transferred from Sredne-Kolymsk to Gishiginsk.


   In 1769 the greater part of the military garrison of Nishne-Kolymsk was also recalled. {Archives.} According to the Register of 1762, the entire population of the fortress was, full-grown men, 585 ; children, 53; women, 236. Most of the people were soldiers, Cossacks, and "public-service men." Only a part of these Cossacks were left in the country. A century later the whole number of Russian full-grown men in the whole country of the Lower Kolyma was 128 (data taken from my census in 1895). The remaining Cossacks were used for various local needs, chiefly for guarding the Government store-houses and for carrying mail, also as orderlies, servants, and guides assigned to all officials of somewhat higher rank. Fig. 302 represents the envelope in which a package was sent by an extra messenger with the utmost speed. A swan-feather fastened to the paper with sealing-wax indicated to every one that the messenger had to fly onward like a bird, and no delay was to be suffered. A package of this kind is called "flying post."
   Perhaps it would be interesting to mention that some of these Cossacks were Fig. 302. Envelope officially seated. armed with bows as late as the thirties of the nineteenth century. Thus I have the list of Cossacks who were sent to the Anui fair in the year 1837. It runs as follows: "S. Kotelnikov, bow; Miron Popov, flintlock; Ivan Kyprianov, bow;" etc.
   These remaining Cossacks were divided into two parts. 1. Settled Cossacks (станичные казаки) lived in the village Pokhotsk, at the western mouth of the Kolyma and its dependencies. They had to perform only local service. In 1876 the settled Cossacks were partly dismissed, and partly transferred to the position of common citizens of the burghess class (мѣщане). 2. The serving Cossacks proper were scattered all over the country, chiefly in the towns of Sredne-Kolymsk and Nishne-Kolymsk. They formed two companies or "commandoes." Together with other Cossack companies scattered in various towns and districts of the Province of Yakutsk, they formed the Cossack regiment of Yakutsk, the single Cossack regiment belonging to the infantry, and governed, as an exception to the military rule, by the Minister of the Interior.
   Settlement on the Anadyr began again in the year 1784, but the new settlers were not so much Russians as Russianized natives. The village was moved to Markova, seven miles distant from the former site.
   The settlement of Nishne-Kolymsk was moved in 1773 to its present site. Before that it was situated fifteen miles away, on the so-called Stadukhin Channel. This channel was formerly a large branch of the river, but gradually it became shallow. The new settlement was founded on the main river, opposite the mouths of both Anui Rivers, which enter the Kolyma River almost at the same place. The new place had some houses before this transfer. It had no strategic advantages, but was excellently chosen for purposes of traffic. The old fort was surrounded by palisades. The new one had no palisades, though, according to a former tradition, it was also called a "fortress." Sredne-Kolymsk, on the Middle Kolyma, was also fortified in olden times. One small wooden tower still stands on the corner of the church courtyard on the hill in the middle of the town (see Plate xxxv, Fig. 1).
   Even these facts show that the Chukchee war ceased altogether. The Chukchee, when let alone, changed with surprising rapidity from an "unpeaceful" to a "peaceful" people.
   Trade. -- One might suppose that some relation still existed between the Chukchee and the Russians. Thus, in the year 1779, the Cossack lieutenant, Ivan Kobelev, was sent from Gishiginsk to Chukchee Cape. {Papers selected from calendars, 1784.} This Kobelev afterwards accompanied Billings in his journeys through the country of the Chukchee. In the succeeding half-century he served as the first official interpreter of the Chukchee language. He lived to a very old age, more than. a hundred years, and his name is mentioned as late as 1849.
   Some trade was carried on by barter on the Middle Anadyr, near the mouth of the Red River, one of its affluents. There the summer hunting of wild reindeer was participated in by all the tribes of the vicinity: and along with the Yukaghir and the Chuvantzy, the Reindeer Chukchee also came there, and even the Maritime Chukchee in their skin boats. We have information of such a visit of the Chukchee on Aug. 5, 1763. {North Archive, Part 18, p. 164.}
   Opening of Trade on the Kolyma. -- Intercourse with the Chukchee was renewed on a large scale in 1788 by Banner, the chief officer of Zashiversk. Zashiversk was a town on the Indighirka River. After the recall of the garrisons, the Kolyma officer was made subordinate to the Indighirka officer, the one nearest to the west. At the present time, Zashiversk has ceased to exist, the Kolyma is again a separate district, and the Indighirka is subordinate to the town of Verkhoyansk. The Chukchee were quite eager to trade with the Russians. They wanted Russian wares; above all, iron and tobacco: so the Russians and the Chukchee agreed to meet every year in the spring-time for trading-purposes, in some place to the east of the Kolyma. At first a place on the Large Anui, at the mouth of its affluent the Angarka River, was selected for this purpose. In the year 1805 Zashiversk was deprived of its governing position, and the official centre of the Kolyma country removed to Sredne-Kolymsk. A few years after that the Chukchee spring fair was also removed to the Dry Anui.
   Anui Fair. -- A wooden fort was built and surrounded by palisades, as was usual with the forts of former times. The Russians were still afraid of the Chukchee, and wanted to be protected against sudden attacks; but the attacks never occurred, and other fairs were arranged in the country of the Gishiga, without any palisades, in a cluster of block-houses built for the purpose, or even in the open tundra on the snow.
   I obtained from the Chukchee a curious story about the beginning of the Anui fair. According to that story, the Chukchee wanted trade so badly, that they were ready to force the Russians to open it, even by personal constraint. "Many years after the murder of Yäku'nnin [Pavlutsky {Compare p. 652.}] the spring fair on the Anui Fiver was opened for the first time. Numerous people gathered, -- Chukchee, Russians, Chuvantzy, -- and wanted to begin bartering at once. An officer from the Czarina (Katherine the Second) also came and declared, 'My heart is full of anger. You have killed so many men of the Czarina, I will not permit this traffic.' The Chukchee people began to deny the accusation. 'We did not do it. The people of Anadyr did it.' Four strong men walked around in the Russian fortress. There is nothing to do. They peep into the house of the officer through a chink in the door quite attentively. .There he sits, clad in red, -- red cap, red coat, red boots. One says, 'Let us break down this door and seize him!' They broke the door, caught the red man, and carried him to one of the camps. He cried out, calling for rescue, but nobody heard his voice. The next morning the Russian people made an outcry. The local officer requested that they give back the officer of the Czarina. 'No,' said the Chukchee, 'we must first open up trade.' The four strong men released the captive, and, to appease his anger, they gave him two black foxes. Then the people said, 'We cannot trade without an interpreter.' So they found Ke'ka, a man of Chuvantzy stock, who lived on the Big River, and made him their interpreter." {See Bogoras, Chukchee Materials, p. 391.}


   Another tale referring to the same time states, "After a while they ceased fighting. The people of E'tel (Chuvantzy) who used to be killed by both parties became their interpreters. They all became friendly, and the war ceased. Then Nute'wgi, a man of Chuvantzy stock, went to a Chukchee strong man, Eeñei'vu, and carried a paper relating to the stopping of the war. Along with that paper he took a large medal of silver."
   The paper in question, together with the medal, were actually preserved in a Chukchee family on the Large Anui River. The owners put them in a flat wooden box, and used this box in the ceremonial as one of the family charms. I bought it from them. The paper proved to be a document dated Feb. 8, 1789. It was directed to a "Chukchee Chaun Chief, Khamakhei, who in the year 1788 expressed his desire to become a subject of her Majesty, and to pay tribute, together with his kinsmen. For that promise he was presented with a crimson coat, and with a parade dagger bearing the inscription 'Russian true subject.' Thus all authorities would thereafter have to meet him as a true subject and a slave of her Majesty."
   Khamakhei is the Chukchee name Qi'miqäi ("Little Worm"). Another man of this name, whom Wrangel met on Cape Erri, may have been the descendant of this first "true subject." It may be seen from this document that the Russian officials sought again to induce the Chukchee to become subjects, and to pay tribute; but from this time on, it was done with great caution, by means of persuasion and without any constraint. This policy has not changed up to recent times, notwithstanding the fact that efforts were made by a few officers to force the Chukchee into more real subjection. The most active of all in this respect was Maydell.
   Even the Russian Code contains special articles referring to "natives not wholly subjugated." {Russian Code, edition of 1857, IX, Articles 1251-1256.} Of these articles, the 1254th says. "They are governed and judged according to their own customs and usages, and are subject to Russian law only in case of murder or pillage committed on Russian territory." I mentioned before that at the Anui fair only the inner space of the fort is considered to be Russian territory. Outside the gate begins the free territory of the Chukchee.
   Article 1256 says, "The Chukchee pay tribute in quantity and quality according to their own free will." This article, however, was excluded in the next edition of the Code, in 1876.
   Chukchee Tribute and "Chukchee Presents." -- In order to induce the Chukchee to consent more readily to the payment of tribute, Banner obtained from the Government a yearly assignment for the so-called "Chukchee presents." The sum was.assigned from funds of his Imperial Majesty's own Cabinet, in accordance with the fact that tribute from the natives was turned likewise into the same Cabinet. The sum varied greatly from year to year. Thus, in the year 1791 it was 500 rubles; in the next year, only 85 rubles; a century later, in 1861, and after that, it was 150 rubles. Maydell mentions 143 rubles as the probable sum for the year 1869. With this money were bought tobacco, kettles, and knives, which were then taken to the fair and given to the Chukchee as if in payment for their tribute. The tribute was, as in earlier times, from each man one fox, mostly red, but sometimes also white, though the white fox is considerably cheaper than the red one. It seems that in the beginning the Chukchee, in their eagerness for trade, were even ready to pay some real tribute.
   Thus, the tale about the opening of the Anui fair, cited before, continues as follows: "The officer from the Czarina said again, 'My heart is angry. Why have you killed so many of the Czar's people?' -- 'Control your anger,' said the Chukchee. 'Stop asking about the murdered men. Better assign a chief to count all the people. Let the chief, with the people, pay to the Czarina tribute in restitution for the murdered men.'"
   I have this tale from a member of the family of Ei'heli, whose name has been mentioned several times; and probably it reflects knowledge of the more recent measures carried out by Maydell. Still most of it refers to an earlier time. The Russians certainly could have succeeded in exacting some kind of trade-tax, to be collected at the fair. Instead of that, they tried to introduce again tribute by subjection, the same as that which led to all the earlier wars. This tribute was paid very irregularly, -- one year (1835) by twenty-seven men, another year (1837) by twenty men, and still another year (1838) by only eight. And with the presents of the Government the paying of tribute soon became quite similar to traffic. The Chukchee wanted to get the most possible, the Russian officer wanted to give less, and thus haggling over the tribute ensued. Still, in most cases the present given represented the current price of the furs brought for tribute. Thus in 1806 the Chukchee tribute was ten red foxes; as an equivalent in presents, 27 pounds of tobacco, valued at 40.5 rubles, were given. The Governor of the Yakutsk Province, however, was displeased with the transaction, because the value of the foxes was equal to the value of the tobacco, plus transportation. In 1832, for each red fox, three pounds of tobacco and an iron spear-head were given, which was still less favorable for the Russians. In 1837, for each red fox, two pounds and a half of tobacco, a large knife, some beads, needles, also candy, hard tack, etc., were given.
   The so-called "complimentary tribute" (поклонный ясакъ) {Compare Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 799.} also appeared from time to time. Thus in 1812 there were presented to the Czar seven black foxes on the part of seven different men. In 1814 there were presented to the Czar by the Chukchee seventy puds of walrus-ivory and seventeen puds of peltries. This last present is uncommonly large. I presume that it was simply the result of traffic carried on by officials with Government property for the benefit of the Treasury.
   Some of the Chukchee tribute was paid by the Reindeer Chukchee, another portion by the Maritime Chukchee traders (kavra'lit), who played such an important role in the Russo-Chukchee trade. The presents, consequently, were distributed between these two groups of tributaries. The Maritime group was much more important, because all the best peltries of American provenience were brought by the traders of this group.
   Regulations of Treskin. -- Trade at the Anui fair was carried on more or less uninterruptedly until 1811. In that year General Treskin, Governor of Irkutsk, introduced a set of rules which were to regulate with the utmost strictness trade with the Chukchee. These rules were put into force in 1812, and observed, until 1869, when they were repealed by Maydell. Treskin, even for his time, was famous for his cruelty and corruptness, and his career terminated by his being officially prosecuted in court. Among his other qualities was his constant desire to regulate strictly the whole course of life, which is so characteristic of all the bureaucracy of the St. Petersburg period of Russian history. The most essential feature of his rules and regulations was the fixed table of prices for all the more expensive objects of sale brought to the fair; such as beavers, all kinds of foxes, martens, and walrus-ivory, and, as the Russian equivalent, tobacco, and often also kettles, iron, and copper. The staple article of value offered for sale by the Chukchee was the red fox; and that offered by the Russians, tobacco. Objects of minor value, such as reindeer-meat and seal-thong, were sold at free prices in exchange for iron-work, sugar, etc. In some years fawn-skins were included in the table, but for the most part these were sold free. In some years Cossacks and the common citizens were given the right to carry on some small traffic with the Chukchee to the amount of one pud of tobacco, but only for the necessaries of life, such as meat and clothing. In other years even that right was taken away.
   The table of prices had to be established every year by deputies of traders, in accord with the chief officer and the principal Chukchee traders; but usually it ran on from year to year without change, as follows: --
   1 pud (36 lbs. Avoirdupois) tobacco, or 1 pud of iron kettles, or 1 pud of copper kettles -- Chukchee Equivalent. -- 10 red foxes.
   1 black fox -- 20 red foxes.
   1 gray fox -- 2 red foxes.
   1 beaver or otter -- 2 red foxes.
   1 lynx -- 3 red foxes.
   1 overcoat of marten -- 5 red foxes.
   1 bear-skin -- 1 red fox.
   3 martens -- 1 red fox.
   4 white foxes -- 1 red fox.
   4 average walrus-tusks -- 1 red fox.
   4 fawn-skins -- 1 red fox.
   1 parkee -- 1 red fox.
   The foxes and all other peltries had to be full-haired and whole, with a tail and all four paws. Before the opening of the fair, all the tobacco was divided, under the inspection of deputies, into piles of one or two puds, put into leather bags, and then sealed. It had to be quite dry and of good quality. Sprinkling with water, which adds to the weight, was forbidden. Trade with objects of fixed value was permitted but one day. After that the less important trade began, which was free. Thus the chief object of value offered in trade by the Russians was made, like money, quite uniform among all the traders. The kettles, iron or copper, were also of about the same quality. The peltries of the Chukchee, on the contrary, varied considerably in quality and value. This unequal position of the two trading-parties led to the strange scenes described by Wrangell. {Wrangell I, p. 282, German edition, Report of Matiushkin.} For instance, trade was opened on the ice of the river near the fortress. When the signal was given, the Chukchee quietly remained by their sledges; while the Russians would rush ahead, dragging their tobacco and doing their utmost to outrun each other and to secure the best peltries.
   The merchants as a body were inclined to support these regulations, because they hoped by their means to keep the price of Russians articles of value on a certain level, sufficiently high, and purposely so fixed; or, as it is stated in the first draught of the regulations drawn up in the year 1811, " Nobody has a right to make exchanges under value. On the contrary, every one must take care to raise the price as high as possible, so that the traffic shall be more profitable for our side."
   This is plain enough. Still in the course of time some changes in the table became necessary. They appeared in the shape of so-called "supplements," added to the fixed prices. Thus in the forties of the nineteenth century iored foxes were worth 1 pud of tobacco, and a kettle as supplement; 20 foxes brought 2 puds of tobacco, a kettle, and a wolverene-skin. Individual traders, on the contrary, were all the time trying to elude the regulations, underselling the others, buying articles of lesser value with tobacco, selling to the Chukchee traders on credit, which was also forbidden. Some merchants had a secret agreement with their Chukchee friends, and put into their sealed tobacco-bags some special "supplement." One merchant, for instance, found a way for many years of putting into each large bag of tobacco a small flask of alcohol. His trade was quite prosperous. All this brought on continuous trouble, mutual complaints, denunciation, and endless chicanery. The trespassers were punished with the utmost severity, especially those of the poorer class. Thus in the year 1838 a trader named Bereshnov was deprived of the right of trading for ten years because he exchanged with one Chukchee ten pounds of tobacco for such reindeer-skins as were not included in the table. He wanted those skins for his sister's clothing. In bartering for foxes, he was short by three-fourths of a fox-skin. In the year 1842 Miastukov, a poor man, underwent the same penance for thirteen years, because in bartering for foxes he was short one paw. On the other hand, the merchants, acting as a body, were bent on monopolizing the whole trade with the Chukchee at the yearly Anui fair, to the exclusion of every other way and place. Thus in the year 1849 the merchants of Kolymsk entered a complaint against the Yakutsk merchant Basile Trifonov because he wanted to re-open the disused trail to Anadyr and Gishiga. This Trifonov was very active. He made several attempts to find the trail. One time, guided by the official chart, he lost his way, and returned to Omolon. On the way he visited the camps of the Chukchee and the Lamut, and the merchants complained to the authorities that this was an infringement of the regulations of the Anui fair.
   In the year 1859 a similar complaint was entered against another merchant, Nicholas Bereshnov, by his three cousins, Paul, Lucas, and Gabriel Bereshnov, and it had immediate effect. I could give a long series of such examples from the Archives of the Kolyma. Earlier than that, in the year 1834, the Cossacks of Nishne-Kolymsk made a complaint even against the Yukaghir of Yelombal, on the Large Anui River, because, in order to get food for themselves, they worked on iron and traded off the products of their work to the Chukchee; and this was immediately forbidden.
   Nevertheless, in the year 1826, the whole body of merchants complained of the restrictions on trade. They accused the officials of having put a restraint on trade for their own private interests, since they themselves carried on considerable trade. In accordance with these complaints, the Siberian Committee, in 1831, tried to establish free trade. The Report of the Committee points out that because of these restrictions, the prices of imported wares are exeedingly high. Thus tobacco, which is valued in Yakutsk at eighteen rubles per pud, is valued in Verkhoyansk at five rubles per pound; i. е., at more than ten times the original price. An axe is valued at ten rubles. It is remarkable that the permission given by the Siberian Committee for free trade had no effect at all. On the contrary, in 1837 the order forbidding merchants to go to the camps and settlements of the natives was reiterated. The same was repeated several times, in 1839, 1840, 1847. The restraint was evidently stronger than the permission to exercise freedom in trading.
   Maydell's Reform. -- This condition of affairs lasted until 1859, when Maydell repealed the regulations, and established free trade. At the same time he tried to abolish the custom of giving to the Chukchee presents in exchange for tribute, and to introduce a real tribute. He accomplished this, together with a curious administrative reform in regard to the nearest groups of the Reindeer Chukchee, while the Maritime Chukchee remained outside of his sphere of influence. Still, in 1869 he gave no presents at the Anui fair, not even to the Maritime traders, for their tribute. I have already spoken of Maydell's reform, which was based on the attempt to create official clans for the purpose of exacting tribute; these clans were to have chiefs at the head, with a "Highest Chief of all the Chukchee," as a kind of hereditary prince, ruling the whole tribe. The family to whose lot this dignity fell was in reality one of the richest reindeer-breeding families in the whole country. The head of this family, in Maydell's time, was Amra'wkurgin, a man of great personal ability, both physical and moral. His father's name was Ya'tirgin; and Ya'tirgin's father was Gela'irgin ("Marmot"). In a document of 1812 this "Marmot" is called the "Chaun Chukchee Chief." Khamakhei, in the document of 1789 cited above, was also called "Chaun Chukchee Chief." The western limit of the Chukchee in that time lay near the Chaun River.
   I mentioned before that the Russian authorities, from the very first years, tried to find chiefs among the Chukchee, in order, through their mediation, to exert an influence over the whole tribe. Since the Chukchee had no chiefs, the Russian officials addressed their attentions simply to the more wealthy and influential persons, and bribed them with presents, -- gave them gaudy coats, bright medals, and daggers inlaid with silver, -- although usually without practical result. Amra'wkurgin inherited from his father two such medals and one coat. He was given several others besides; so that his son Ei'heli was able to hang form his neck, when in full parade dress, five ponderous disks in yellow and white. Amra'wkurgin was very modest about displaying his strange rank; but Ei'heli, who had far less good sense than his father, often presented quite a foolish appearance. I will quote the official report of the chief official of the Kolyma for 1884: "This funny man came to me in full parade, saying, 'I am the Chukchee chief. Г am the Czar.'"
   I witnessed a meeting of Ei'heli with another official newly come from Yakutsk, and inexperienced in local affairs. Ei'heli was quite drunk, and his crimson coat was all besmeared with filth. Still, when he hiccoughed out his usual "I am the Chukchee Czar," the haughty official hastily stood up and did obeisanse. After that, when Ei'heli was going, he sped forwards and opened the door with his own hand for the Chukchee majesty. Following this example, the other Russians often called Ei'heli "the black Chukchee czar" or "the tundra czar." I was witness to another occurrence, when a well-to-do trader fell upon his knees before this dignitary with a complaint against some Anui Chukchee who had charged too high a price for their slaughtered reindeer. Ei'heli said nothing: he had no influence with the people in question. Other chiefs, supposed to rule their clans, have just as little influence as the first dignitary. After a while, all the "clans" became mingled. The supposed clansmen changed their abode, and quite forgot their former relations. I remember that in the year 1895 one To'lIño, an acquaintance of mine, was made an assistant to the chief of the Anui clan. He told me very judiciously, "Now I am a chief, and I have this dagger and a package of papers as signs of my dignity. Still where in the world are my people? I am unable to find any."
   Expansion of the Reindeer Chukchee and New Tribute. -- As one reason for the introduction of the new tribute among the Reindeer Chukchee, Maydell cited the circumstance that from the time of the cessation of hostilities they were slowly but incessantly moving westward and southward. In the time of the Russian war their western frontier was somewhere west of the Chaun River and on the upper courses of both Anui Rivers. In the thirties of the nineteenth century their camps extended to the Large Baranikha River, although this country was considered as having belonged, from times of old, to the Yukaghir of the Anui. In the fifties of the nineteenth century the Chukchee proceeded first to the Labugen, then to the Pohinden, both affluents of the Dry Anui River. Their onward movement was connected with the vanishing of the Yukaghir. These last died out, or receded to the Kolyma, because the wild-reindeer herds were turned away from their yearly migratory route across the Anui and Kolyma Rivers. This last circumstance was probably due to the increase of the Chukchee herds. Thus the pacification of the country proved unfavorable to the lower material culture of the Yukaghir hunters, and quite favorable to the nomad culture of the Chukchee, which was higher than that of the Yukaghir, though in other respects the Chukchee were more primitive.
   In the end of the fifties of the nineteenth century the foremost Chukchee camps crossed the Kolyma River to the west, and were approaching the Omolon River on the south. All this territory was formerly occupied by the Yukaghir, who were already half extinct; but the Chukchee were conscious that the land was not theirs, and considered themselves under obligation to pay at least something for those new pastures. Maydell asserts that he was the first to give permission to the Chukchee to cross the Kolyma River, but this is not the case. Some Chukchee crossed the Kolyma as early as 1859 with the permission of one of the predecessors of Maydell. Another party crossed the Kolyma River in 1866. As to the tribute, Maydell had good sense enough to abolish the former standard of one red fox per head as too high, and not easily obtained by the reindeer-breeding Chukchee on their treeless tundras. He established a new standard, low in price and easily procured, -- one reindeer-skin scraped and worked into soft leather. A considerable number of such skins are prepared by all the tribes of the country. Some of them are used for clothing; others are exported to Yakutsk, there to be used by the Yakut also for clothing. Each Chukchee family has, besides, a number of spare reindeer-skins. Thus the women are able at all times to prepare soft curried leather. Still the collecting of soft skins as tribute proved a failure. Many of the Chukchee brought skins of bad quality or none at all; and the deficiency was paid by Amra'wkurgin and the other chiefs. Here Maydell again showed his good sense by substituting a money equivalent for the tribute of skins, one ruble for every single skin. This standard is the lowest, in comparison with that of all other native tribes of East Siberia; and the whole amount of tribute was put at 247 rubles. From that time on, this tribute was paid every year by the Reindeer Chukchee, although a goodly portion of it was not paid by the tributaries, but was furnished instead by the rich chiefs of the clans. From that time, the Reindeer Chukchee also ceased to receive presents for their tribute.
   May dell forbade the giving of tribute-presents to the Maritime traders also. This might have been the last of the Chukchee presents had not a new factor come into play, -- the loss of importance of the Anui fair, and the desire of the authorities to give it some support. The chief reason of this decrease in importance was the diminution in the number of American peltries brought to the Kolyma market. Before this, all beavers and martens and fully half of the foxes, sold on the Kolyma, were of American provenience. A large portion of the iron and tobacco also went to the American shore, even far inland, through the mediation of the Chukchee. In more recent times these peltries have found their way from Alaska to the United States. Some of the beavers and martens, which bring quite a good price in Asia, were still going the former way, but chiefly those of inferior quality. Even a large part of the peltries from the Maritime Chukchee and the Asiatic Eskimo went to America through the medium of whalers. The Maritime traders (kavra'lit) would take American wares and carry them inland to the Reindeer camps to be exchanged for fawn-skins and ready-made garments. Thus this branch of the trade, also, did not reach the fairs of the Kolyma. {See pp. 57, 66.}
   The number of Maritime Chukchee who attended the Anui fair, which in former times usually amounted to a couple of scores, fell to ten and even less. Then the authorities thought to attract them again by restoring the tribute-presents. This was done very soon after Maydell's time. In the year 1889 the Governor of Yakutsk, Svetlitzky, ordered that these presents be increased as the only means of attracting the Maritime Chukchee. Every one who should bring a companion with him would be entitled to special recompense. According to this order, each individual share was more than doubled. In the year 1889 twelve Maritime Chukchee paid tribute at the fair, and received for one red fox, for instance, one large kettle, one knife, one spear-head, several pounds of tobacco, beads, candy, and hard-tack. The value of the presents was much higher than that of the tribute. In the official papers of that time these presents are called "return presents to the Chukchee, not subjected to Russia." This state of things lasted up to very recent, times. Four or five of the Maritime tributaries would come to the fair every year, bringing a dozen tribute-foxes, their own and those of their absent friends' "entered in the register." A few new-comers would also ask to be put on the tribute-list; but the chief official would usually refuse to do so, because new bargains of such a kind would be of little use. The tributaries would come to the Anui fair without a large amount of peltries for trade, only with their tribute and a few skins for buying liquor; and the whole transaction degenerated into a complete sham. I was informed that for the last two or three years the Chukchee presents have been withheld again, but I am not quite sure about this.
   On account of hard times, when the fortress of Anadyrsk was abolished, the Russian authorities were under the impression that in dealing with the Chukchee the utmost caution and prudence are required. This idea has been retained up to quite recent times. I have spoken before of the Anui-fair riot of 1895, the details of which are so characteristic. Another interesting incident happened ten years before, in 1884. A Russian creole of Nishne-Kolymsk, Semen Drushinin, while on a trading-trip to Cape Erri, had some difficulties with the Maritime Chukchee of that place about a seal-carcass that was offered for sale. He paid a "false price" for it, and the seal was taken back from him against his will. Angered by this, Drushinin declared that the Governor of Yakutsk would come to the Kolyma in order to punish the Chukchee, for which purpose he would bring powder and ammunition to the amount of ten pack-horse loads. When the Chukchee made light of this threat, he added, pointing up to the sky, where the aurora borealis was shining with uncommon brightness, "See that flame! Have you seen the like before? God is warning you! That is your blood Г
   The whole affair sprang from a denouncement by another creole, hostile to Drushinin, and seems to be grossly exaggerated. Nevertheless it caused great commotion among all the Russian authorities of the country. Drushinin was arrested and put into jail. An extra messenger was sent to the Governor of Yakutsk; another was sent to the Chukchee "chiefs" with the solemn declaration that the Russian Government had no part in the words of Drushinin. The chief .official even proposed to the Chukchee, that, if required, he would come himself and assure them of the peaceful intentions of the Government. The Russian Creoles were warned that they must take care not to give the Chukchee even the slightest reason for displeasure, under heavy penalty according to martial law, etc. I do not know the result of all this, nor whether Drushinin was really court-martialled.
   Chief Officers of the Anadyr. -- The Anadyr country, after the abolishment of the fortress in 1764, had no officials, and was governed from Gishiginsk. The first official was appointed in 1889, at the time of the opening of the steamship-line from Vladivostok to Mariinsky Post once a year. This first official was Grinevitsky, a doctor of medicine, who died there a year afterward, having asked in vain for a furlough to more civilized countries. He also made a request in his official report for permission to be called, not the chief official, but only the doctor, because the Chukchee are a freedom-loving people, and must first become accustomed to the idea of authority. His request, however, was not granted. After that, for three years Anadyr again had no representative of the official authority. Only a few Cossacks, from Petropavlovsk in Kamchatka, were sent to stay at Mariinsky Post. Life there was quite wearisome. Thus one year no fuel was left for them by the state steamer, and they were obliged to gather driftwood throughout the winter from under the snow. They had no dogs, and had to drag their fuel themselves on a sledge. They would go for fuel, and lose their way in a snowstorm. Some of them told me, in speaking about this." We knew nothing about the country, and were sent against our will. We left our families in Kamchatka. So, when we were in the greatest trouble, some one of us would fling himself on the ground, and wail aloud (in old Russian fashion), 'Oh, my mother! why have you borne me for this trouble? О God! why have you brought me to this country? Oh, we are wretched!' etc."
   Then, in 1894, N. Gondatti -- at present Governor of the Tobolsk Province -- was appointed chief officer of the Anadyr. He staid there three years. Mr. Gondatti, who, like Maydell, was partly moved by scientific interests, tried to imitate him also in his administrative activity. Thus he sent his assistant, Ankudinov, to the Ke'rek to induce them to pay tribute. The Ke'rek are the most wretched tribe of all northwestern Siberia, perhaps even more wretched than the Yukaghir; and they are rapidly vanishing, partly through starvation. It is only just to say that no violent means were used, and that the timid Ke'rek were rather coaxed into paying a few fox-skins into the Russian Treasury. In a report by Mr. Gondatti the exaction of this tribute is extolled as "the subjection of a tribe heretofore quite independent." It should be added that the Ke'rek paid their tribute once or twice. Then they ceased to come to the Anadyr and also to pay tribute. When on a visit to Indian Point, Mr. Gondatti also displayed much official zeal, as he himself has described partly in his papers, {The Population of the Anadyr District (Memoirs of the Amur Section of the Imperial Russian Geographical Society, Vol. Ill, Part I). When writing Part I of this volume in New York, I had not this paper at hand (cf. p. 27), but I found it afterwards in St. Petersburg.} partly in conversation. Thus he sealed in the village of Uñi'sak, with the sealing-wax of the Russian Crown, one of the native storehouses filled with strong liquors; and the seals were not broken until the time of his departure, which, however, happened shortly afterwards. He also tried to counteract the supposed influence of the "transformed shamans," going so far as to employ chastisement personally inflicted ad hominem. He selected also three trustworthy men, and appointed all three elders or chiefs of the village Uñi'sak. With each of these chiefs he left a duly written paper and a Russian flag, with instructions to hoist the latter as soon as a Russian ship should come into the harbor. This happened so rarely that the whole ceremony very soon fell into desuetude. In the same spirit Mr. Gondatti, during the three years of his stay at Anadyr, kept a detailed account of all sales and purchases, debits and credits, of the Russianized natives. {After the energetic activity of Mr. Gondatti, there came for the Anadyr a period of quiet. So the Governor in Vladivostok said to the successor of Mr. Gondatti, "You must remember that we gave to Grinevitzky two thousand rubles for the investigation of the country, and to Gondatti fifteen hundred rubles. Now we consider that the country is thoroughly investigated. And you are to be, not an investigator, but a simple chief of the district." I may agree with the idea expressed in these words, in so far as the less active the representative of the Russian authority is, the better it is for the inhabitants of the country.}
   I know another official who at the very same time held sway on the Lower Kolyma, and who, in order to exterminate syphilis, kept another account, not less detailed, of all sexual intercourse between men and women, hoping in this way to find the bearers of the original disease. Both records were failures, but they are very characteristic for the whole system of the administration of the country.
   Trade in Alcohol. -- I made mention before of the brisk trade in strong liquor which is carried on in the Kolyma country between the Russians and the Chukchee. {Compare p. 61.} A few more words regarding this matter may be interesting. In the thirties of the nineteenth century, liquor was still very scarce at the Anui fair. Only the aged interpreter Kobelev, whose name has already been mentioned, was able to sell some at retail. The price of the liquor was a marten-skin for a small glassful. One of the documents adds, that because of this traffic, he was greatly loved by all the people. At the same time, however (1827), Nishne-Kolymsk had a regular saloon, where even fruit-brandy (five barrels {A barrel of the kind in question forms one-half of the load of a pack-horse. It contains 3 vedros ("buckets") of 20 bottles each. A Russian vedro is equal to 3249 gallons.}) was sold. In 1842 there was a great famine on the Lower Kolyma, and some cases of death by starvation on both Anui Rivers. In the same year the saloon above mentioned sold thirty barrels of undiluted alcohol, and in 1847 even fifty barrels. In 1864 the price of alcohol at the Anui fair was two beaver-skins for one bottle.
   From that time on, the imports of alcohol into the Kolyma country increased quite regularly until they reached three hundred barrels yearly. At the same time the price regularly decreased. During my stay on the Kolyma, the price of alcohol in the saloons of Sredne-Kolymsk was two or two and a half rubles per bottle. The saloon of Nishne-Kolymsk was abolished, but plenty of liquor was to be had on the Lower Kolyma. The price at the Anui fair was a red fox-skin per bottle, which is five times cheaper than the price in 1864. In .1895 the Cossack commander of Sredne-Kolymsk, by official order, sent a man to the Reindeer Chukchee of the western tundra to buy reindeer for alcohol, only in the order the alcohol was called simply "liquor." The man brought with him one barrel of this liquor, and slaughtered twenty-two reindeer. I was a witness to the whole transaction. I was informed recently that the importation of alcohol into the Kolyma country has lately been forbidden. It remains to be seen how strictly this prohibition will be enforced; but of course some such law, however slack, is much better than to allow the importation to go on unhindered. If the trade in liquor could also have been stopped from the American side, the vanishing of native tribes of this country would probably proceed at least more slowly than at present.
   General Character of Russian Administration. -- Such is the history of the official influence of the Russians upon their Chukchee neighbors. To understand it properly, one must bear in mind the general character of the Russian Administration in the far east of Siberia. The rule of the Moscow Government, which lasted in European Russia until the beginning of the eighteenth century, continued in Siberia half a century longer. Thus all the Chukchee wars, and those who took active part in them, the Cossacks and public-service men, the boyar-sons, their reports, and all the search for tribute, belong wholly to the old period of Russian history. The Government of this period was at least frank and plain in its dealings. The Cossacks and their chiefs wanted tribute and submission of the natives. Their principal means of enforcing their desires was by the use of fire-arms (огненный бой), by taking hostages, by torturing on the rack, and by executions.
   In the latter part of the eighteenth century the St. Petersburg method of administration was extended also to Siberia. German terms took the place of Russian ones in all branches of the Administration, the ample coats of the old style were exchanged for foreign-looking uniforms, and the system of bureaucracy developed to its full vigor. For the next century and up to the present time it has remained in Siberia almost without change. Kolyma, Yana, and other remote districts of the arctic zone, are the worst governed of all.
   Expenses. -- As an example, the expenses of administration of the Kolyma district may be given. The personnel of the Administration consists of five people, who receive yearly, in round numbers, a total of ten thousand rubles salary and three hundred pud of flour. Each "serving" Cossack also has a right, from his seventh year of age up to his dismissal after twenty-five years of service, to a single "ration" (паекъ), which is equal to a hundred and fifty rubles and twelve pud of flour each year. The whole number of such rations is about one hundred: so that the total of merely the salaries of members of the Administration is about twenty-five thousand rubles and fifteen hundred pud of flour. If we count the flour at only eight rubles and a half per pud, as it was in the early nineties of the nineteenth century, the total for salary would be thirty-seven thousand five hundred rubles. Moreover, the priests, of whom there are seven, receive eight thousand rubles salary, and five hundred pud of flour. The total expenses of the State for administration thus reach probably about fifty thousand rubles. {At least another fifty thousand rubles should be added to cover the expenses, legal or illegal, falling directly upon the shoulders of the population; such as the conveying of officials from village to village, the rebuilding of government houses, the carrying of loads, though in theory this has to be paid for; also various extortions, requisitions, bribes, presents, etc., should be included.} All this is spent for a population of three thousand who are more or less sedentary, and of another three thousand wandering natives; i.e., more than eight rubles per man. The total revenue of the Government from the Kolyma country is less than ten thousand rubles per year.
   As a rule, the officials are sent to remote districts such as the Kolyma either as punishment for some trespass, or they go tempted by the comparatively high salary and the short term of service (ten years) necessary for a full pension. They enjoy the full freedom of their administrative position, which leads them very soon to indulge in excesses. After two or three years a higher official is sent from Yakutsk to inspect and to verify the accounts. This often ends either in the district official heavily bribing the inspector, or in his being deprived of his position and impeached before the court. Fully one half of the chief officials of the Kolyma have ended their careers and even their lives while under impeachment. Some of them, too, have been adventurers from the very beginning. Even criminals sent from European Russia to Siberia have then been accepted again into service and sent as far as the Kolyma! I may mention here Vinogradov, who was in service in the thirties of the nineteenth century. In the year 1837 a member of the Provincial Council, Ring, was sent to inspect his office. Almost immediately the two got into a violent quarrel, which ended all of a sudden in the death of Ring. Local tradition says that Vinogradov caused Ring to be poisoned; and I have found in the Archives an order, directed by Vinogradov to the private commander of the Cossacks of Nishne-Kolymsk, referring to the death of Ring, and of rather doubtful significance. Another document referring to 1839, when Vinogradov was dismissed and impeached before a court, mentions his attempt to murder his wife, for which he was legally prosecuted. His wife was the daughter of a local priest. He accused her of improper conduct, "too improper even for the Kolyma," as it is stated in the document. I might mention more episodes of a similar character and of more recent date.
   It is no wonder that the doings of such an Administration present forms quite strange, to say the least. I will give a few instances. The inquiries for all persons wanted by the courts or police throughout the immense empire are sent, as a rule, to every district, however remote. Thus the mail, which up to very recent times came only three times a year, would bring piles of such orders, and all local archives are full of them: as, for example, the order of the chief secretary of military affairs inquiring for the dismissed Lieut-Col. von Stempel and his step-daughter Eugenie Krumones, in reference to their petition for the acceptance of the said Eugenie Krumones into the Institution for the Education of Gentle-born Girls; another order inquiring for a banker, Matthias Leibion, from The Hague in Holland; and many more; not to speak of the political refugees who fled abroad, and none of whom of course might wish to go to the Kolyma of their own free will. These orders are followed by circulars, not less numerous,. concerning the collection of "free-will offerings" of official character, chiefly for building monuments, -- for the monument to Count A. A. Bobrinsky, for which 3.35 rubles were collected; for the monument to the composer Glinka in Smolensk, for which 1.50 rubles were collected from the Yukaghir in 1822; for the House of Good Intention in Nishne-Kolymsk, for which 225 rubles were collected (this was to have been a kind of club-house; the plan probably originated with Wrangell, but the house was never built). There are also collections for the hospital in Constantinople, for the Voluntary Fleet, etc. After that follow long tables of local statistics, which year after year are compiled in the following manner: --
   Asses and mules -- 000
   Camels and buffaloes -- 000
   Catholics -- 000
   Protestants -- 000
   Corn sowed -- 000
   Corn gathered -- 000
   Tanneries -- 000
   Tallow-boileries -- 000
   Pay to a working-man per day -- 000
   Pay to a working-woman per day -- 000
   and so on for scores of pages. If any of these 000 are not sent in time to Yakutsk, there comes from there an angry reproval, with a threat of punishment by law. I have in my collection several samples of such official correspondence. I should mention also that, though not an official in the service of the Government, still even I have received an official circular from the Russian Society of Sericulture, with the offer to undertake the same in the Kolyma country. A promise of a moderate subsidy was added at the end. I must confess that I did not answer the circular. So in due time (after nine months) I received from the same society a letter the purport of which was politely put with much insistance to remind me of the former offer.
   When the local official scientists want to produce some original statistics, they turn out to be original indeed. Thus, in the Archives of a settlement in Kamchatka I found a copy of a statistical report, which, among other items, included the following account: --
   Peter Rybin -- 52 years old.
   Semen Bereskin -- 43 years old, etc.
   Total the whole village -- 2236 years old.
   Extortion. -- Under piles of such fantastic documents are concealed oppression and extortion of every kind, very real, and often not bereft of cunning. Thus salt is taken from Yakutsk to the Kolyma at the expense of the Government, to be sold there to all the inhabitants. The expense of transportation is 8.50 rubles per pud, and more. The price is established once for all, 1.20 rubles per pud. The difference is over 7 rubles. Thus the merchants who undertake every year to carry the salt allowance from Yakutsk to the Kolyma prefer to carry one tenth of the quantity agreed upon; for the other nine tenths they get the receipts from the chief officer at Sredne-Kolymsk. The salt of the previous years remains in the storehouse, and only a small quantity is sold to the people. The large profit is divided among the merchant contractors and the officials interested in the transaction. It is needless to mention that all the state provisions in the care of such keepers are subject to constant reduction and destruction by mice, wind, inundation, moisture, mildew, fire, partly real, partly fictitious, for the benefit of the supervisors. I found in official reports paragraphs in which even sheet-lead is mentioned as subject to desiccation.
   I will give still another example. In all clans and communities of natives and Creoles, besides the ordinary tribute and taxes, there is collected also the so-called "dark collection" (темный сборъ), which is spent without any account being kept of it. It goes to all the officials, from the lowest clerk up to the chief of the district. I know also of cases where the chief of the district would lose at card-playing the whole amount of the taxes of some community, and then would make the accounts so complicated that they had to pay it again the next year as arrears.
   Strange Reforms. -- When administrators of this kind undertake certain reforms, still worse things than extortion result. Thus the chief officer of the Kolyma, in the year 1888, suddenly conceived the idea that he would introduce into his district the smoking of herrings. It must be borne in mind, first of all, that there are no herring in the Kolyma River; but there is a small fish there, Coregonus albula, the meat of which is soft and very tender, which goes under the name of herring. The places for smoke-drying were selected, as if purposely, up the river, where even this species of Coregonus is quite scarce. The inhabitants built the sheds and undertook the smoke-drying. Of course they knew just as little about it as did the official instigator of the experiment. As may have been expected, the result was that some of the "herring" were charred to coals, others dropped off from the rods, and some of the remaining ones were quite bitter and unfit for eating. It should not be forgotten that the people on the Kolyma River live on fish as their staple food, without bread or vegetables. Only freshly caught or frozen fish is suitable for such a diet. Fish dried in the sun and slightly smoked afterwards, as is done by the inhabitants, and fish slightly salted (three pounds of salt to a hundred pounds of fish, the proportions used among the Russian Creoles of the Kolyma in salting), are also eaten by them. Strongly salted fish, on the other hand, or fish smoked in the usual civilized way, is almost unfit for the local diet.
   One year the catching of spawning fish was suddenly prohibited, though fish-roe forms one of the important items in the diet of the inhabitants, and is used, mixed with flour, for baking a special kind of cakes. Moreover, the fish come into the rivers full of roe for the purpose of spawning. To catch no spawning fish is to catch almost nothing. The next year the same official ordered the Russian Creoles of the Lower Kolyma to undertake another experiment, that of making salt. A party was sent to the seashore. They took with them a large kettle, gathered some fuel, and tried to extract the salt from the water by boiling it. All these experiments, too, were undertaken in the summer-time, when every pair of working hands and every hour of time are of exceeding value to the population.
   Two years before that the Governor of Yakutsk also was possessed by the idea of reforms. So he ordered the chief officer of Kolymsk to exterminate immediately all the team-dogs of the Kolyma country, and to replace them with driving-reindeer. Each house-master had to receive five reindeer. The order says, "The dogs consume the food of men. Therefore famine comes so often." This order, however, was not put into execution. Otherwise the whole fishing population of the Kolyma River, Russian, Yakut, and Yukaghir, who know nothing about reindeer-breeding, would be left "walking," as they say on the Kolyma. It is needless to add that this population literally could not exist without their dog-teams. Reforms of this kind have not ceased up to the present time. Thus I was informed that in the year 1906 a new one was undertaken. In this year, after the well-known revolutionary outbreaks, an order was issued in St. Petersburg for the confiscation of arms throughout the country. This order duly reached the Kolyma. Then the assessor of the district went up the river, taking the firelocks from the Tungus hunters, and even the belt-knives {A man in these countries literally cannot exist without his belt-knife. "Man without knife," in local Russian, is an expression of utter contempt and derision.} from the whole sedentary population.
   Relief of Famine. -- It is at least the duty of an Administration that costs so much, both to the state and to the population, to assist the people in times of public calamities, which in these countries occur almost yearly as regularly as the seasons change. The Administration has to lend assistance in times of famine, and to afford medical succor in times of disease. Only those that pay tribute have a right to this official assistance. Famines occur on the Kolyma at least every other year. Their usual season is during the months of March and April, when all the stored provisions are exhausted, and fresh supplies have not yet come to hand. To relieve famine, the Administration has arranged for the collection of supplies of dried and frozen fish. Each community has its separate stores, and the members of some are obliged to turn over yearly one tenth, and even one seventh, of the whole product of their fisheries. Accordingly the stores must increase from year to year in a very large measure. The trouble is, however, that the fish cannot be preserved in good condition for too long a time. Therefore, when a famine comes, it happens too often that the fish-stores are either gone or quite putrid and not fit for use. In cases of great need, the Administration distributes among the starving population some of the rye-flour from the storehouses of the Crown. This is given as a loan, which is to be covered afterwards, and the heavy official price paid in full. In some years this is as high as fourteen rubles per pud (twenty cents in American money per pound Avoirdupois). All this (i.e., fish and flour), however, falls to the share only of the Russian Creoles and the Russianized natives. The others, especially those that dwell too far from Russian towns, receive no succor, and are not rarely reduced to death by starvation and to cannibalism. I am informed that in the last few years, when fishing on the Kolyma has not been fairly successful, cases of starvation and cannibalism among the Tungus and Yukaghir have happened quite frequently. The latter tribe is dwindling away quite perceptibly.
   The Chukchee, who for the most part pay no tribute, have no right to official assistance, but it seems they do not feel themselves much the worse for that. I mentioned before a Russian creole who grew up among the Chukchee and lived the same life as they do in a nomadic camp, and with a herd of reindeer. His name was Alexis Kasanov. Still, being a Russian creole, and moreover a member of the Russian community on the Lower Kolyma, which is burdened to the utmost with taxes, collections, and requisitions, he had to bear a goodly share of all these payments. When he was in arrears, his fellow-citizens contrived to seize him at the Anui fair or in Nishne-Kolymsk; and he was released only after full payment. His Chukchee neighbors paid nothing. Naturally he was not well contented with his Russian origin. One time in my presence he came to the chief official of the Kolyma and wanted to enter a petition to the Czar, asking to be released from the rank of a Russian creole, and to be lowered to the position of a tributary Chukchee. "They pay only one ruble per year," said he. The chief official declared that this was impossible. "Then you would forfeit any right to the assistance of the Administration," added he. "Do not bother me with your exactions," said the poor Russian nomad, "and I will never ask for your assistance." Kasanov married a Chukchee woman according to Chukcbee rites. He refused to have the Christian rite performed. "Then my children would be entered as Russians," he explained. "I prefer to have them illegal and Chukchee, as their mother is." The whole mode of thought of this man is quite Chukchee. Thus he says that if the authorities will continue to be so severe on him in the payment of arrears, he will settle the question by destroying his own life. All this took place in the year 1895-96. I do not know whether Kasanov is still alive.
   Medical Succor. -- Medical succor is another branch of official assistance. The Kolyma country is ravaged by various diseases, among which syphilis and leprosy have attracted most of the attention of the authorities, perhaps for the reason that their external forms are so horrible and shocking. The town of Sredne-Kolymsk even had a hospital destined for the poorest people suffering from these two diseases. No words are adequate to represent fully the horrors of this hospital. It stood in the middle of the so-called " Hungry Ward" of the town, and was in the shape of a large hut of Yakut style. Not only its walls, but even the ground all around it, were soaked with filth. The patients were mostly Yakut, all suffering from the worst forms of the disease. Only such were brought to this hospital. All the others, if there was still a single ray of hope for them, were kept out. I witnessed a case where a man suffering from syphilis was brought in from the country. He had made a journey of a hundred miles crouched on a small Yakut sledge, which was drawn by a saddle-horse attached by means of long traces fastened to the saddle-bow, in Yakut fashion. When the assistant surgeon bade him strip, he tucked up his fur shirt and showed us a round birch-bark vessel tied up to his loins, and filled with completely destroyed tissues. When these were cut off, he did not even feel any pain.
   I should add also that the better half of the food destined for the sustenance of the sufferers was appropriated by the warden; so that they had to apply for alms to private individuals. Sometimes, when their diet ran too short, they would send in a threat that they would leave the hospital in a body and crawl around from house to house (most of them were unable to walk). Then the citizens would pay a ransom to keep them quiet. {I was informed that two years after my departure, in the first year of this century, this hospital was at last pulled down and a new one built in its place through the exertion of the new district surgeon, a political exile.}
   This is the sort of medical assistance that is given to the population in the Kolyma country. A surgeon is included on the official staff of the district, but his place almost always remains vacant. Those that are occasionally sent from Russia find employment much nearer than the Kolyma. Even the southern part of eastern Siberia has so little medical assistance, that a real graduated physician is not allowed to pass through into the arctic desert. Thus in the Kolyma district there are only non-graduated assistant surgeons without knowledge and experience, who go there either on account of the short time of service that entitles them to a pension, or half crazy from drinking and sent to the Kolyma as a punishment.
   Vaccination has been practised in the Kolyma district for a full century, ever since 1806. Young men specially selected for the purpose, the so-called "vaccination-boys," received brief instructions from the assistant surgeon, and travelled from village to village, vaccinating the young and the old. In 1884, as soon as the first news came of the small-pox epidemic having broken out in the neighboring districts, a small-pox committee was organized, and the vaccination-boys were sent to inspect the population. They found that nearly everybody had been vaccinated. Those that were not, were vaccinated this time. Immediately after that, the small-pox came, and destroyed about one third of the whole population. It proved afterwards that the vaccine sent from Irkutsk sealed in small tubes was worthless, and the vaccination-boys kept their lancets in such a state, that they were more suitable for inoculating syphilis than for simple vaccination. Exactly the same occurrences were repeated in 1889, at the second outbreak of the small-pox.
   The first graduated physician visited the Kolyma in 1817. He was Dr. Reslein, chief physician of the province of Yakutsk. He was, according to Gedenstrom, one of the most charitable men of his time, but at the same time he was of a quite eccentric character. He would receive no payment or presents for his medical assistance. The greater part of his salary he left in the Treasury, and took only as much as he thought necessary for his scanty sustenance. Any cynic of modern times could hardly surpass him in his mode of life. In the winter-time, during the most severe cold, he used to wear summer clothes, a light uniform, a hat, rarely an overcoat of broadcloth. In the year 1817 he received an order from the Government to send some physician from Yakutsk to Zashiversk and Sredne-Kolymsk, on account of syphilis and leprosy, which were ravaging those countries. Reslein, who was about seventy years old, chose to go himself. He left Yakutsk in October, notwithstanding the cold, clad in broadcloth. On the way he used to alight from his horse, run about, or even turn somersaults, in order to keep himself warm. In this way he made fifteen hundred versts, and then his feet were frost-bitten. He was taken to Sredne-Kolymsk on a litter, wrapped in skins. There he amputated several of his toes himself, and after six months he died. He lies buried in Sredne-Kolymsk. He left a great number of manuscripts, which came into possession of his heirs. {Gedenstrom, Siberian Fragments (Russian), p. 117.}
   The strange fate of Dr. Reslein has served as the basis of a tale, which I collected on the Lower Kolyma. The old doctor is described as a young courtier of very high blood, who was sent to the Kolyma for political reasons, and preferred to destroy his own life. "The Kolyma is not worthy of such a man," he would say before his death. All this, of course, is pure fiction.
   Since this first medical visit of Reslein, I am aware of but one other graduated surgeon, Dr. Nekrasov, who lived in the Kolyma district during the seventies of the nineteenth century, and died there. Another one came during our stay in the early nineties. He seemed not to be in his full mental health, and had to leave very soon. In the last years of the nineteenth century, Dr. Mitzkevich, a political exile to one of the southern districts of the Yakutsk Province, proposed to go to the Kolyma as a district surgeon, and was allowed to do so. When his term of exile expired, he was replaced by another exiled physician, Dr. Popov, who also went to the Kolyma of his own free will, and remained there more than two years.
   Schools. -- A few words will not be amiss regarding the Kolyma schools. There are schools in Sredne-Kolymsk and Nishne-Kolymsk, and even in Piatistennoye on the Large Anui River. All of them are parish schools. The teaching is of such a kind, that the children have to be brought there by requisition; although at the same time every private attempt at teaching (by political exiles) finds pupils enough, and even pays. Among others, the Yakut clans of Sredne-Kolymsk are obliged to send pupils to the school of the town. They send orphans and children of the poorest people. Some of these somehow learn to read and write without having learned the Russian language; so that on the Kolyma one may sometimes see the strange sight of a half savage man reading aloud a letter in a language almost wholly unknown to himself, for the benefit of a Russian creole who knows the language, but is illiterate.
   Scientific Expeditions. -- Even scientific expeditions arranged by the Government, when going to these remote countries, too often only served to increase the oppression of the inhabitants, Russians and natives. Slovtzov mentions one of the first instances of this. Gmelin and Miiller, in 1735, when leaving Irkutsk for Lake Baikal with light baggage, were not contented with the thirty-seven horses assigned to them by the authorities, but sent their men to the market-place and ordered them to capture more horses. They started from the station Goloustnaia with a hundred and fifty horses. All these horses were not paid for. They were delivered on requisition. For the expedition of Bering, enormous quantities of provisions and ammunition were dragged by the Yakut through the whole Yakutsk Province to Okhotsk. Most of the horses perished on the way. To this Slovtzov adds, "No expedition of such greatness and fame had, up to that time, gone through all Siberia. God grant that, out of compassion for the poor country, future times may never know a fame so ruinous!" {Slovtzov, I, p. 255.} Of all the expeditions of former times that visited the Kolyma country, that of Baron Wrangell (1820-24) seems to have been the most scrupulous and sober-minded. Still local tradition looks upon this expedition in a light very similar to that given in the opinion of Slovtzov, cited above. I collected this tradition on the Lower Kolyma, among the Russian Creoles.
   "In the olden times there came an expedition. Its chief was a baron; and another one was a steersman, Anjin (Anjou). They brought with them a large boat, and put it in the middle of the river; and neither wind nor tempest could do anything to it. It was only rocking slightly under it. The steersman ordered his bedding to be hung up like a baby's cradle. In this cradle he slept usually, rocked by the wind. He would awaken only when the wind subsided and ceased rocking the cradle.
   "They visited all the villages, and in every village they would arrange a feast. To that feast they invited the people, -- husbands with young wives, fathers with grown-up daughters. All night they sang and danced and played, till the time came to go home. Then they would choose such women or girls as suited their fancy, and would detain them, of their own free will or by force. A husband who came with a wife would return alone, or a father without his daughter, or a brother without his sister. The women and girls had to stay with them as long as they remained in the village. After a while they would leave the village, and everything in their houses would be left to the women. Some of the husbands would receive them back, and some would not. In the latter case the women had to live alone and be wretched. Oh, these husbands! How foolish they were! It was not their will nor the woman's will. The superiors gave the order, and what could be done? Thus they lived in our country through the spring and the summer. When fall came, they went to the sea with their dogs. They took with them the best men of all the country, -- those that knew the sea and were clever in travelling. When driving on the sea, they saw an island. There were churches with golden tops, houses and people all of purest gold. When they came nearer, an old woman came to meet them. The baron was a pipe-smoker, so she gave him a golden pipe. Anjou took snuff. She gave him a snuff-box. Then she said, 'I know you are seeking the passage to America. Better go back. This is the limit of human travel. If you want to pass on, you shall never go back.' They held a council, and then turned from the island and went across the sea. After a while they found open water. In the middle stood a tree, high up to the very sky. This tree would bend down and enter the water. After a while it would emerge from the water full of fish. And while it was swinging up high, all the fish were being consumed. They felt afraid of this tree, and turned off to the right, toward the land. After a while they found another island. It was quite deserted. Tobacco was growing there; and the leaves were so large, that each one would suffice to swaddle a man's head in it. They took some and left the island, going to the land. At the place where they stopped the first night, a thundering noise came suddenly from the direction of the island. The drivers were frightened, and woke them up. They sat down upon the sledges, and the dogs ran away at a furious rate. Still the noise grew nearer and nearer. Finally the ice began to heave and roll like billows. They drove on without sleeping or eating, and at last reached the land. There they stopped to rest. When they awoke in the morning, they saw that all the ice was broken, and gathered into icebergs. They came to the fortress (of Nishne-Kolymsk), went to the church, and took a solemn oath to keep silence corcerning the things they had seen on the sea, because they knew that if they should disclose these secrets, all the people in the country must perish. So they kept their oath, and not until many years later did some old men relate a part of their adventures."
   General Character of Creole Population. -- The manners and the ways of the Russian Creole population, who represent on the Kolyma the race of the conquerors, fully correspond to the kind of government they have. I have mentioned before the extreme looseness as regards sexual life which reigns in all Russian settlements of the arctic part of eastern Siberia, from the mouth of the Yana to the southern part of Kamchatka. The people on the Kolyma say, "Our water is of such quality that we cannot do otherwise." Perhaps in reality this easy excitability is influenced, not by the water, indeed, but by the diet of fat fish which prevails on the Kolyma. Mr. Jochelson, believes that the sexual looseness of the Russians has arisen under Yukaghir influence, and even asserts that the Russian term "maiden-children" is a term adopted from the Yukaghir ma'rxid-u'o (i.e., "child born by a maiden"). {Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 736.} It cannot be denied that the Yukaghir influence on the Russian population was quite considerable. Still for such things as illegal children, the Russians had their own terms, quite ancient, and brought over from across the Ural Montains. Thus, besides the "maiden-children," the Russian Creoles have also "widow-children," and the joint number in both categories forms about thirty per cent of all the Russian infants. Exactly the same proportion exists among the Chukchee. Some Russian families, numerous and well-to-do, have at their head an old female who bore all her children in the maiden state. Even the family names are derived from a Christian name of such a maiden patriarch, or rather matriarch; for instance, Наташонки ("sons of Nathalie"), Катьконки ("sons of Kate"), etc. There are families in which aversion to marriage has even acquired a morbid character. The people say that in such families old mothers will take an oath from their sons that they will never marry. "You may live in fornication, if you desire it; but to your marriage I shall not give my blessing." Their aim is to extinguish their name. The daughters are allowed to marry. The two rich families, Chertkov and Uvarovsky, are said to have stood under such an oath in the last generation. The first family has already vanished. The second one contains two brothers. Both have paramours and children; but, since they are not married, their children bear another name. All this is told on the Kolyma from mouth to mouth with many comments, though I cannot tell how far it is true. Still, I have noticed also among the Russianized Yukaghir of the Lower Kolyma, who are rapidly dying out, the same morbid aversion to marriage, though in connection with other facts. "Too much trouble," say these wretched people in reference to marriage. {Compare p. 36.} The Russian Creoles are dying out only a little more slowly than the Yukaghir.
   Syphilis has also taken quite deep root among the Russian Creoles. The blood of new generations is tainted, and the remnant of their vigor is dying away. Card-playing in its worst forms is also widely spread among the Russian Creoles. Games of hazard prevail; and regular cheating, even among the upper crust, is almost considered a lawful means of winning a fortune. Social relations are harsh and egotistic. All the people who are a little better off than others lend money or food in small quantities at fabulous rates; two hundred per cent yearly, and even more, being charged; and even the poorest people consider this as quite natural. "Why," explained one of the poorest debtors to me, "since he had a chance, he pressed me dry. If I could, I should do the same to him." On the Lower Kolyma such mutual relations assume an almost artless character. All are quite poor, all charge each other large percentages and demand heavy payments, and in the end nobody receives anything. The amounts are credited, and the credits balance very nearly. Even taxes and other exactions are hardly paid by the community.
   The Creoles are of one accord in the belief that the natives of all the various tribes may be oppressed and bled in every manner possible. In common parlance, they do not call them "men," but "beasts," "creatures." Their tribal names are used in diminutive terms of derision, as is proper in the Russian language: чукчишки, "(those) small Chukchee;" якутишки, "(those) small Yakut."
   Greek Orthodox Mission. -- The Russian Orthodox Church has always been merely a branch of the Russian Government. Its missionary work in Siberia was performed solely at the expense of the State and under the control of the Administration. One of the influential participants in this work even goes so far as to say, "Most of all, they [the natives] point to the fact that there does not exist a direct order of the Czar for the adoption of the Russian creed. They say, 'If the Czar should desire that all of us become Russians, he would certainly send an order to that effect.' They understand by instinct that the adoption of the Russian Creed is not only an affair of the Church, but also that of the State." {Veniamin, Archbishop of Irkutsk (The Live Questions of the Greek Orthodox Mission in Siberia, St. Petersburg, 1885, p. 7). In some discordance with this high-flowing assertion, the chief official of the Kolyma says in his report of 1884 (i.e., just about the time when the Archbishop Veniamin wrote his book), "And they [the Chukchee] declared that they are afraid to adopt the Russian Creed, lest the chief Russian devil should strangle them immediately." I mentioned before the Chukchee tradition about tribute of the same disrespectful kind (cf. p. 292, footnote).} On the other hand, and in direct connection with this position, the history of the activity of Greek-Orthodox missionaries among the tribes of Siberia, as Mr. Waldemar Jochelson justly remarks, {Jochelson, The Koryak, Vol. VI of this series, p. 807.} cannot be considered honorable, with the exception of a few noble personalities, like the Aleut missionary Veniaminov or the Altai missionary Verbitzky.
   The first attempt to baptize the Chukchee was probably made immediately after the first encounter of the Russians with that tribe. In the first half-century, however, this was rather difficult, because of the absence of priests or missionaries. Thus, Argentov mentions that in the chapel of the Kolyma, in the absence of priests, the service was performed by laymen. Even later laymen would perform baptism. Nil, Archbishop of Irkutsk, even as late as 1848, ordered the priests to denounce and extirpate this evil. {Argentov, in Memoirs of Siberian Sections of the Imperial Russian Geographical Society, 1875, Part IV.}
   The first church in the Kolyma district was built in Nishne-Kolymsk during the first years of the eighteenth century. In 1704 a communion-cloth was sent from Tobolsk in western Siberia to Dog Fortress. In 1771 Sredne-Kolymsk had also a church, that of the Intercession of the Holy Virgin, but this church was a "black" one. {Block-houses, which are called black, have stoves without pipes; so that when burning, the smoke has to come out into the room, and escapes through the opened door. This system gives much warmth, but still more soot and charcoal-fumes.} In the same year Sredne-Kolymsk had only three houses. About the same time Verkhne-Kolymsk had only a chapel dedicated to St. Nicholas. The Anadyr Church, according to Argentov, was built in 1743. The next year the first missionary, the monk Flavian, with three assistants, was sent to this country; but all of them were murdered by the Koryak in 1745. The first priests in both countries belonged to the family of Trifonov. Thus, we find in Nishne-Kolymsk, in the year 1753, the priest Michael Trifonov. This priest was the sole one for the whole country, and had to visit all three of the Kolyma towns; and before that he was priest of the Anadyr Chukchee. In 1757 we find another priest, Procope Trifonov, who was transferred to Anadyr in 1758; but in 1764, after the abolishment of the fortress of Anadyrsk, he was restored to his former place.
   In 1812, with the new trade-regulations, the priest of Nishne-Kolymsk received a new nomination as a Chukchee missionary. The name of this first missionary was Gregory Slieptzov. He remained in his former parish, however, and only had to visit the Anui fair once a year. Argentov mentions that in 1811--12 Slieptzov made a trip to the Chaun country. The next "parish missionary," A. Trifonov, who went to the Kolyma in 1816, has never visited the Chukchee. In his time the Archbishop of Irkutsk, Michael, wrote an epistle to the Chukchee, exhorting them to adopt Christianity (1818). I wonder how many Chukchee have read the said epistle!
   In 1848, at the instance of Archbishop Nil, a small church was built on the Arctic shore at the mouth of Big River (Large Baranikha River), two hundred miles from Nishne-Kolymsk, and A. Argentov was appointed the first missionary. It seems that before that he had been an ordinary priest on the Lower Kolyma for more than four years. He says in his diary that the place was selected not very happily, because the Chukchee do not live there continually, but only come from time to time. This, of course, is quite true. Nevertheless Argentov went to his church along the seacoast with five boats of the usual Kolyma type. These boats are so clumsy and fragile that it is a matter of wonder that the expedition did not meet with some catastrophe. The people who came in the boats built a block-house for Argentov, and then went back, leaving him with his wife and a maid-servant. A few months after that Argentov was obliged to flee from his mission, because the Chukchee neighbors wanted to compel him to enter with them into a bond of group-marriage. The story is well remembered on the Kolyma among the Russians as well as among the Chukchee. Argentov, who travelled much among the Chukchee, and visited Chaun River and Cape Erri, was tempted to conclude friendship with one Chukchee, Ata'to, and also with his wife. Probably at that time he did not know the rules of the Chukchee group-marriage; but after a short time Ata'to returned the visit, and asked for reciprocity. He had some companions with him, and so refusal was of no avail. At the critical moment, however, the maid-servant consented to take the place of the mistress. The Chukchee probably did not know the difference; and, moreover, according to Chukchee ideas, the family has a right, in marriage complications, to substitute one woman for another. Some of these details I have from Ata'to himself, who in 1895 was still living. Shortly after that, Argentov left his lonely church. This was the first and the last attempt of the Chukchee missionary to live among the Chukchee in the desert. Maydell, in 1870, undertook to build a church on the Yelombal River, an affluent of the Large Anui River. This church was to be the centre of the Christian propaganda among the Reindeer Chukchee. Amra'wkurgin donated to the church four hundred reindeer for slaughter. These were eaten by the Russian Creoles; and the church, and the house for the priest, were built, but nobody ever lived there.
   The next missionaries -- probably owing to the unhappy episode told above -- were selected among the monks. Their number gradually increased. At the close of the nineteenth century three of them were already on the Kolyma, -- one as head of the mission in Nishne-Kolymsk; another in the village Piatistennoye, on the Large Anui River; and the third in the Yakut settlement Sen-quel, on the outskirts of the western tundra. The place for this missionary was selected personally by the Bishop of Yakutsk, Dionisius; and it was to be on the Big Chukchee River, in the middle of the desert. The bishop says in his order, "The very name of the river shows that this place has served from ancient times as a habitation of the Chukchee." Bishop Dionisius evidently wanted by his order to solve the ethnographic problem of the Big Chukchee River, which has not yet been solved by scientists. The place has really served as a habitation in times far remote, but serves no longer as such. Since the country about the Big Chukchee River is so thoroughly a desert, the new missionary had to remain on the outskirts of the tundra, in one of the outlying Yakut settlements.
   At the present time the Kolyma country has seven priests, with a corresponding number of churchmen, -- four with parishes, and three Chukchee missionaries. For a Christian population of about four thousand, including the baptized Chukchee, this number is perhaps a little too large. Verkhne-Kolymsk, Sredne-Kolymsk, and Nishne-Kolymsk have wooden churches. Other villages have only rough wooden chapels, where services are held once or twice a year by the priest, who comes for the purpose. Plate xxxv, Fig. 3, represents the chapel of the village of Pokhotsk, on the Lower Kolyma. The Anadyr country has one parish priest, who at the same time acts as missionary to the Chukchee.
   It is not my plan to speak about the parish priests of the Kolyma. Incidentally I will mention only one fact. In the eighties of the nineteenth century there was in the province of Yakutsk one single priest of pure Yakut blood, newly ordained at that time. Now, in the whole province of Yakutsk there is a single parish, where the inhabitants do not know anything of the Yakut language, and rather despise the Yakut national element. This parish is Nishne-Kolymsk. The single Yakut priest was appointed to the single anti-Yakut parish, I do not know whether purposely or not. After a few years spent in his parish, the Yakut priest became consumptive and died in the middle, of the nineties.
   I mentioned before that the manner and customs of the clergy of the Kolyma do not differ much from those of the other Russian creole population. Not to speak of modern times, the Archives are full of historical indications to that effect. I will cite only some of those that are connected with the mission.
   Thus in 1821 the priest of Sredne-Kolymsk, Michael Sivtzov, was impeached before the court because he took from a newly baptized Lamut his wedded wife, and forced her to remain in his house. Many more accusations were added. In 1826 the priest Basile Trifonov was impeached before the court on account of his traffic in alcohol with the Chukchee. In 1837 the above-mentioned chief official, Vinogradov, wrote a letter to the preacher of the Chukchee mission of that time, saying that the said preacher had brought from the Anui fair "a pile of Chukchee sins, to the amount of four pack-horses" (twenty-four puds). The preacher answered, "This letter shows your lack of zeal for the building-up of the church and for service to the fatherland." The missionaries received funds and wares for presents to the Chukchee, and distributed them in the same way as the civil authorities of the country. Thus each newly baptized heathen received sugar, tobacco, and other things of value, the same as when paying allegiance to the Czar. Both acts, however, usually went together; and, as one of the missionaries writes in his report to the bishop, "To be baptized for the heathen means to pay the tribute to the Czar of heaven." This method of encouraging people to be converted by bribing them with presents led to many strange scenes. One of them is described by Matushkin in "Wrangell's Voyage." {Wrangell, I, p. 282 (German edition).} It happened at the Anui fair, where a young Chukchee suddenly jumped out of the baptismal font and ran stark naked around the room, crying, "Enough! I do not want any more of it! Where is my tobacco?"
   It seems that sometimes the missionaries, even, were at the same time the collectors of the "tribute. Thus, in the year 1814 the before-mentioned Gregory Slieptzov, when on his visit to the Chaun Chukchee, induced seventy-six Chukchee men to take the oath of allegiance. Some of them were also baptized. On this occasion he brought to Nishne-Kolymsk eighty-seven puds of walrus-ivory and of various peltries; and all this he turned into the Treasury. {Northern Post (daily), 1814, No. 91.} The Chaun Chukchee, it seems, attempted to take his life on account of these peltries and walrus-tusks; and he was saved only by the assistance of a rich Chukchee, Valetka, who persuaded them to desist. {Philaret Gumilevsky, History of the Russian Church (St. Petersburg, 1888), Period IV, p. 52.} In modern times the conditions are just the same. I have seen an official paper sent from the consistory of Yakutsk to the head of the church mission on the Kolyma. It referred to the question of keeping Lent by newly christened Chukchee, who live exclusively on meat diet. On the margin was added in pencil, "Send me some good dried fish. I like it very much." The request was signed "Father Dorimedont." Perhaps this private request for dried fish had some connection with the question of Lent. The fish was duly sent to the amount of three "bundles" (one hundred and twenty large fishes), and was never paid for, as is the custom in such matters between superiors and inferiors.
   Present State. -- Of the three Chukchee missionaries who were on the Kolyma in the nineties of the nineteenth century, during my stay there, one, Father Victor (see Plate xxxv, Fig. 2), lived constantly in Nishne-Kolymsk. He was the missionary for the Maritime Chukchee, and the head of the mission. The chief interest of his life lay in dog raising. He spent all his salary on his team, though he could not drive it himself, but kept a special driver. As to the interests of the mission, year after year he made preparations for some far-off trip, but somehow every year his plans were frustrated. The nearest Maritime Chukchee lived on Cape Erri, and at one time a voyage to Cape Erri was actually undertaken by him. He found the people in the first Chukchee settlement all murdered, and fled back, horror-stricken. I have referred to this episode before. Father Victor knew nothing of the Chukchee language, or even of the trade jargon. {Compare pp. 22 and 299.}
   Father Venedict was the missionary for the western Reindeer Chukchee. He lived, as already mentioned, on the western tundra, in a Yakut settlement, Sen-quel. Some of the Reindeer Chukchee of the western tundra would occasionally come to his place, and he would try to have intercourse with them. For this purpose he had to employ two interpreters. One translated from Russian into Yakut. All the Russian Creoles from the Middle Kolyma can do as much. The other interpreter, usually one of the Yukaghir of the tundra who wander thereabouts, translated from Yakut into Chukchee. Through this double medium Father Venedict had to preach the Gospel to his Reindeer Chukchee flock. One may imagine the success he would have in this enterprise. His stay at Sen-quel was interrupted by an unpleasant official investigation concerning a certain kettle that was spirited away from one of his neighbors. The accusation was not proved, and so came to nought. After that, however, he did not care to stay at Sen-quel. Father Venedict was a man of many eccentricities. He was said to have come from Russia to Yakutsk on foot. While on the Kolyma, he wrote several letters to the civil and spiritual authorities, denouncing other priests of the Kolyma, and also various laymen. His denunciations were quite groundless, and without result. He also boasted aloud of having promised the Bishop of Yakutsk, that, unlike the other missionaries, he would make the rounds through all the villages and camps of the Chukchee, and bring them all to holy baptism. For this purpose he received from the bishop two thousand rubles. His enmity towards the other priests and missionaries led him to act very strangely at times. Thus he would pay no attention to religious ceremonials performed by other priests, and would perform the church marriage-ritual for a Chukchee man already married, etc.
   After the affair of the kettle, Father Venedict suddenly resolved to make good his promise to the bishop, and he actually went away with some Reindeer Chukchee who were going toward East Cape. He travelled about two years, and visited all the Chukchee villages along the coasts of both oceans. Of course, he had to suffer many hardships. All his provisions were exhausted, and during the last part of his journey he lived completely the life of the natives. I met him on the Wolverene River, when he had fairly started on his voyage. This was in the spring of 1897.
   While on another journey through the Chukchee villages on the Pacific shore, three years afterwards, Kila'ti, a Chukchee in the village of Valka'Lên, gave me some interesting details about his return to the Anadyr. Father Venedict went to see Kila'ti with some Maritime Chukchee, and staid with him for eighteen days. Before that he had lived some days in the American log-cabin on St. Lawrence Bay. The Americans were acting as agents of the American Government for buying reindeer. Mr. I. Kelly was one of them. They showed much kindness to the travelling priest, gave him some provisions, a rifle, a knife, a hatchet, etc. Kila'ti related the story thus: --
   "Our place is not very windy; but farther on to the south, halfway to the village Rê'tkên, near the river Iru'-ve'em, the wind blows all the time: so it was impossible to go there. We told him so. He would not believe us, and, after a few days of waiting, left on foot, quite alone, and without provisions. He was much afraid to stay with our people for another winter. We said to him, 'The Russian settlement is not far, you will have time to reach there;' but he thought we were deceiving him, so he left on foot along the shore. I caught him, however, and brought him back. He left again, and this time gained quite a little headway. The wind was cutting; but I harnessed my team and went in pursuit. After some time I saw him on the shore. Then I stopped my dogs, and began to steal along towards him as one steals up to a wild reindeer, because he was greatly agitated, and I was afraid that he would run away. Then all of a sudden I stepped out in front of him. Then I said, 'Now, do come back! You see it is impossible to go. We have no chiefs or authorities. So, if the wind should blow you into the sea, your people would not believe it. They would say that we killed you. It would be a bad thing, a great calamity, and interrupt the traffic' He said nothing, but lay down on the ground and turned away from me. All at once a white fox jumped out from the stones. The dogs followed. I caught hold of the sledge, but was unable to stop it: so I tried at least to direct it properly; but we were so near to the brink, that I expected every minute to fall into the water. At last I succeeded in stopping the dogs. The water was as if boiling underneath. I felt very angry, and said to the priest, 'See, now! For your sake I nearly lost my life by being drowned in the water. Sit down on the sledge! Otherwise I shall bind you.' So I brought him back. In a week after that the wind subsided. Then I said, 'Now let us go!' So we went, and reached Mariinsky Post."
   At Mariinsky Post, Kila'ti was rewarded with some tea and tobacco. Father Venedict himself had no shirt on, and his fur clothes were full of insects. He proceeded to Markova, and thence to Kolyma. On this last journey he again had bad luck. He and his companions lost their way in the snow, and were almost starving, when some Tungus who were passing by saw their tracks and came to their rescue. Shortly afterwards Father Venedict left the Kolyma and went to Yakutsk. I do not think that he will ever come back. The journey of Father Venedict is quite remarkable. I do not think, however, that he has done much for the spread of the Gospel. When starting on his journey, he knew absolutely nothing of the Chukchee language. In his camp was a young Russian woman who was married to a Chukchee. This woman acted as an interpreter for him. They parted somewhere on the Arctic shore. After that he had to give all his attention to the mere necessities of life and to the continuation of his journey; at least, Kila'ti and the other Chukchee said nothing about Venedict's preaching. On the contrary, they related that he was silent for the most part, but all of a sudden began to cry "like a little baby." His trial was too hard.
   The third missionary of this time was Father Michael. This one was not a monk. He was a deacon for a long time, and wanted greatly to be ordained as a priest. For this purpose he began to visit the Chukchee camps, though he was occupied, not with preaching, but with trading. He also tried to write a dictionary of the Chukchee language. The people of the Kolyma said laughingly, "He writes his dictionary on fawn-skins, and sends it to Nishne-Kolymsk by large bagfuls;" and, indeed, there was much truth in this. For instance, he brought with him some small pictures representing images of the saints, printed on paper, which he received free of cost from Yakutsk. He sold these pictures to the pious Lamut and Yukaghir at the rate of a squirrel-skin for each piece.
   At last he was ordained. Then, not needing his dictionary any longer, he gave it to me. I have it now among my papers. It is a small quire of paper, quite greasy, unbound, and written in pencil. Father Michael's system was the following. He copied all the words from a small printed Russian-German dictionary, and then tried to translate them into Chukchee with the aid of an interpreter. Among other words translated were "duke," "governess," etc. Apart from this attempt at scientific work, he knew very little of the Chukchee language. He was made Chukchee missionary because at the time of his ordination there was no parish unoccupied. He was appointed for work among the Reindeer Chukchee to the east of the Kolyma. He made frequent journeys among the camps, but chiefly for trading-purposes.
   With such preachers, it is no wonder that most of the Chukchee, with the exception of those who live nearest to the Russian settlements, have remained until now unbaptized. Even those that have, properly speaking, been baptized, cannot be called Christians even in name. Not one of them knows so much as the name of Christ. They do not care to remember the new Christian names given to them. They live as they have lived, bring sacrifices to the "good beings" and to the "evil spirits," practise magic and shamanism. I may mention here that the Russian Creoles, even in this respect, do not differ very much from the Chukchee. During my stay on the Kolyma, I brought back from the Large Anui River the ancient dress of a Yukaghir shaman, along with his drum and other appurtenances. About this time a well-to-do merchant, Nekhoroshev, who had come from Yakutsk a few years before, suddenly had an attack of some mental disease. His wife invited a Yakut shaman to practise some magic for his recovery. The shaman declared that he wanted to use my shamanistic dress. The woman, afraid of the consequences, applied to the priest of Sredne-Kolymsk, who performed the duties of superintendent. He said with great prudence, "If it can be of any use, I permit you to use both the shaman and the dress." A few years afterwards, in 1902, a large sum of money (28,000 rubles) was spirited away from the Board of Police of the Kolyma. After some ineffectual searching, the chief officer, acting on the advice of the same superintendent of the church, applied to shamans. At first a Yakut shaman was invited, then a Tungus shaman; but both proved to be more sober-minded than the members of the Administration. They declared that the paper moneys of the Government have water-marks in their tissue, so their assistant spirits cannot look for them. Two years after that it appeared that the money was stolen by the sacristan of the church. These two episodes may give an idea of the actual state of Christianity among the Russian Creoles on the Kolyma.
   American Influence. -- The Maritime Chukchee keep almost wholly beyond the reach of Russian influence. Instead of that, on the Pacific shore, chiefly in the Eskimo villages, American influence is felt in some degree. This influence has come about through trade with the whalers. I have spoken of it before. After half a century of commercial intercourse with American whalers, not a few of the younger people speak some English. They have learned civilized methods of counting, the use of the calendar,- of watches, and of the ship's compass. Some of them are employed on whaling-ships as extra hands, being good seamen. Occasionally they visit Cape Nome, St. Michaels, and even San Francisco. When I was at Indian Point, some of my younger native friends expressed a warm desire to learn reading and writing. One of them, Če'lqar by name, had succeeded by his own efforts in telling the letters of the alphabet when printed in large type. I have a letter of his, written in large printed characters, with barbarous spelling curiously phonetic. The letter runs as follows: "I WLTL YUO ALASNEIT ME CAM POORESSEB ME NO KERDT NETD. MERAKN MAN. NOO . GOOD . MAI POOL CEREI AYN PEIEB E LIKM ROOSEN MAN GOOD MAN SOOBBOS E KVTM MAI POOI PEIEB MEI VEL GOOD." This signified, "I will tell you. Last night me came board o' ship. Me no got nothing. American man no good. My boy cried (to have a) pipe. He like him. Russian man good man. Suppose he gave it him my boy pipe, my feel good." The letter was signed "Salker." {Another native boy, half Chukchee and half Eskimo, who lived at Mariinsky Post on the Anadyr, was taught by the Cossacks to read and write Russian, and also some arithmetic. He could work out fairly well problems coming under the first four rules, even with numbers of several figures.} After such a letter, I had to give the boy a pipe to prove that his judgment was not at fault and that I was a good man.
   The young men even went so far as to reproach me for the absence of a school at Indian Point, saying, "The Americans on St. Lawrence Island teach the children: why do not you do the same here?" All this produced a pleasant impression, the more so, as it came quite voluntarily and unconstrained.
   Another result of American influence, far less pleasant, is that due to the great destruction of animal life in the waters of Bering Sea, chiefly that of whales, and partly also of walrus. Thus, the whalers take the whalebone, and leave the carcass floating on the water. This wanton extermination of the largest species of animal on earth brings with it the gradual restriction of resources for all the natives living along the coast. The Ke'rek are starving, because the walrus have ceased to visit the coast south of Anadyr Bay.
   It is fortunate for the Maritime Chukchee and Asiatic Eskimo that the whalers of late have ceased to hunt walrus, because it does not pay. The walrus plays so important a part in the diet of these tribes, that without it they might have gone the way of the Ke'rek. One of my Eskimo acquaintances put it in the following simple way: "When the Americans came to us, we had a talk with them, and we said, 'Take the whales, but leave us the walrus. We also want something to eat. We shall give you all the walrus-tusks.' And they consented."
   From the native point of view, the decrease in animal life on the seashore is brought about, first of all, by the infringement, on the part of the Americans, of the well-known taboo against the burning of fuel during the whole winter season. {Compare p. 492.} For this reason the natives are generally averse to the idea of having an American settlement in their vicinity. As another of my Eskimo acquaintances expressed it in his broken English, "Russian king big captain. American king big captain, not very. Speak em, sell em, twelve miles this shore, twelve miles that shore. Twenty-four miles land down on the beach. American man speak: 'Give you ten thousand dollar.' -- 'No!' -- 'What is the matter?' -- 'No!' -- 'American man plenty fire, smell im by and by, walruses, seals, come away. Indian Point men seek em, hunt em, no, nothing. By and by die. No! American man trade em whiskey plenty. Indian Point men drink em, fight. No good. American man plenty s-- of b-.'"
   This is a description of how a "Russian king," being asked by the Americans to sell them twelve miles of the seashore in Asia, declined to do so out of regard for the well-being of the Asiatic coast dwellers. Human nature is everywhere the same. "Indian Point men" know quite a good deal of the Americans, and very little of the Russians: so they denounce the former, and represent the latter in a romantic light. The Reindeer Chukchee from the shores of both Anui Rivers, and even from Anadyr, do exactly the reverse. Thus one of the Anadyr Reindeer Chukchee told me about the matter: "The Americans are very good. They come with steamers, and they have everything. They sell cheap, and give without any pay. They bring rifles and ammunition, and say, 'You shoot game, and the peltry bring to us, and we will buy it.' They kill a whale and take only the whalebone. The meat they give to the people. They are clever hunters, hardy seamen, they kill every living thing. You Russians are quite bad. You sit down at home. You do not know how to hunt. You have nothing. Your sale is heavy. You would not give without pay even a tobacco-quid. Therefore we do not love you, but love them."
   General Conclusions. -- In conclusion, I must repeat, in the first place, that the Russianization of the Chukchee has made no progress at all during the two centuries of Russian intercourse with the Chukchee. The Chukchee kept the language, all their ways of living, and their religion. Even the few families of the river Chukchee of the Middle Anadyr have not adopted the Russian language. They have adopted the Russian chimney on their huts; and under Russian influence there have sprung up among them riddles and proverbs, partly translated from the Russian, and of a character different from that of the other folk-lore of the Chukchee; and that is all.
   As to the question of what was brought into the life of the Chukchee through Russian influence, I should say that the first thing brought by the Russians was a request for tribute and war. The fate of the Chukchee, however, was different from the fate of all other native tribes, in that they successfully repelled the first, and held their ground in the second; and, when the war at last ceased, they preserved intact all their national vigor, and so they could avail themselves of peace. This explains the spread of the Reindeer Chukchee westward and southward, and the subsequent increase of their herds.
   In modern times, the same as two centuries ago, Russianization for this nomadic and primitive people would mean destruction and death. It is their good fortune that the latest contrivances of the Russian Administration, like the "clans" and the "chiefs," and the voluntary tribute, are mere outward forms, and do not produce much change in their material or special life.
   Russian influence has brought to the Chukchee tools and instruments of iron, flintlocks and powder, iron kettles, and hardware. These are real acquisitions. Colored beads, and overcoats of gaudy calico, are also to be counted among such acquisitions, since they satisfy the aesthetic sense much better than the corresponding native objects. I wonder whether such a thing as a calico shirt should also be added to the total number of useful innovations. Even the Russian Creoles use a single shirt without change, and keep it on their backs until it drops off in old greasy rags. The Reindeer Chukchee occasionally put on an old shirt bought from the Russians. They call it "louse-catcher" (miču'kwun), and assert that its chief purpose is to attract the lice from the skin, so that they can be easily destroyed.
   Along with all these acquisitions were also brought contagious diseases, alcohol, and card-playing, and their influence certainly equals that of the newly introduced inventions. I will repeat once more the words of Kuva'r, the Eskimo trader at Indian Point (see p. 36), in reference to this very circumstance: "The spirits, it seems, take care that the people of this country shall not multiply. In olden times war was sent down to ward off increase. After that, in spite of the abundant variety of sea-game, famine would come and carry off the surplus. At present, with the fulsome supply of American food, the disease comes down, and the result is exactly the same."
   From all that has been said, the general conclusion may be drawn that the Chukchee tribe, Reindeer or Maritime, being very primitive, may continue to exist in its barren desert only if left alone by civilization. As soon as the latter comes too near, the Chukchee must follow in the way of so many other primitive tribes, and die.

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