Bernard Saladin d’Anglure, CM, PhD
Professor emeritus
Centre interuniversitaire d’études et de recherches autochtones (CIÉRA) University Laval, Quebec City
1 Out of respect for the Inuit language and in keeping with the practice of the journal over the past forty years, I refer to one Inuit person as an “Inuk” and more than one as “Inuit.” The adjective “Inuit” is invariable, e.g., the Inuit language, the Inuit culture. All authors who speak the Inuit language use this form of writing.
2 Bernard Saladin d’Anglure, “Le ‘troisième sexe,’ ” July — August 1992, 836–844.
SANAAQ
1 GATHERING DWARF BIRCH
A woman, Sanaaq, was getting ready to go and gather branches for mat-making. This is what she did. Before leaving, she assembled a tumpline to carry the load, her ulu to cut the shrubs, and a glove to yank them out of the ground. She also filled a small bag with provisions: tea, meat, and blubber, as well as her pipe, matches, and chewing tobacco.
Sanaaq set off across a wide plain and then through a long stretch of foothills. She kept walking further and further from home, followed by her two dogs, Kajualuk and Qirniq. On the way she saw some aqiggiit and prepared to kill them with a few well-aimed stones. But the dogs ran after the birds. Sanaaq tried her best to stop the dogs, yelling at the top of her voice, “Hau! Hau! Kajualuk hau! hau!”
Her shouting was to no avail and the dogs continued to give chase. The ptarmigans flew off. Very much annoyed, she continued on her way and came to the end of her journey.
There, she busied herself preparing an ullugummitaaq and making a fire. Her teapot was a small metal bucket and the water came from a small pool. She placed a few stones around the fireplace for shelter from the wind and gathered some heather to keep the fire going. She now waited for the tea to boil, eating some meat and blubber. The dogs, no longer asleep and rolled up into furry balls, were foraging for her scraps of meat and bone. Suddenly one of them, Kajualuk, started choking on a bone. Sanaaq was panic-stricken. What to do? Thinking fast, she remembered the leftover pieces of blubber: “If I can make it swallow some large chunks of blubber, that might help it get rid of the bone.”
She gave the poor animal what she still had. The chunks of blubber did the job, helping the bone slide down the dog’s throat and letting it breathe freely again. At last she could drink her tea, straight from the small teapot for want of a cup. Soot smudged her hands and mouth, even her cheeks. Unaware (how could she see herself?), she went to gather branches for mat-making. Some dwarf birches looked suitable and she started yanking them out of the ground, using her ulu to cut the more stubborn ones. When one patch of ground had been stripped bare, she moved to the next, leaving behind piles of pulled-up birches. She pulled up more and more, one after another, the sweat streaming down her face… Then she stopped. Stretching her tumpline out on the ground, she bundled the branches for the trip home. There was much to take back and the load would be a heavy one. After tying the bundle up, she lit her pipe and puffed repeatedly, inhaling deep breaths. The provisions were all gone and she was very hungry. She strapped the tumpline around her chest and, laying the bundle on a large rock, finished fastening it to her body to carry in front of her. The load was indeed heavy. She could barely stand up.
She began the long trip home, foraging for anything edible on the way, although it was now twilight. The route was uphill and so tiring that it was often necessary to stop for rest. Several times she found some wild berries. She picked them as a gift for her daughter, who was minding their home, and dropped them into the improvised teapot. The little girl was waiting at home and was increasingly in Sanaaq’s thoughts as home drew nearer. Sanaaq was almost there but the two dogs were the first to arrive. She trailed behind, within eyesight.
Her daughter saw her and shouted, “It’s Mother! It’s Mother!”
The little girl ran out so eagerly that she fell several times, even hitting her face on a rock. Finally the two were together. The mother cuddled her little girl — no wonder, she had just hit her face on a rock — and offered the small berries she had picked for her. She then gave her a kuni, murmuring a mmm... of affection and taking her by the hand. Arriving outside their home and exhausted, Sanaaq put her burden down and crawled in headfirst, pushing the bundle in front of her.
“It’s yours to take inside!” she said.
It was taken inside and she was finally home.
A quick arrival meal was made ready. She ate some of the boiled seal — a shoulder blade and a rib — that had been saved on a plate for her return. Her daughter Qumaq — that was her name — sat beside her. Helping herself to the food, Sanaaq exclaimed, “My ulu, Qumaq, pass me my ulu!”
The little girl passed it to her and had some of the boiled meat. Sanaaq recounted how their dog had choked on a bone.
“Kajualuk was choking and I tried to get the bone out by getting it to gulp down the pieces of blubber I still had… That was all I had left of my provisions… A bit longer and the dog would’ve been a goner. For a long time after, it would whimper while I was making tea, because of the bone that had been stuck in its throat.”
Her daughter was curious. “Mother, was it our big dog?”
“Yes!”
Qumaq began to chatter “Taka taka taka...” while playing on the sleeping platform. Her mother knew it was bedtime.
“Daughter, I’ll help you undress and you’ll go to bed. It’s now quite late… I’ll take your boots off. Iii! My, my, they’re soaking wet! My girl is really getting around! She just got those boots! I’ll soak a piece of leather for you to make a new sole. I’ll let it soak overnight.”
She put a piece in a plate to soak. Qumaq undressed for bed, talking all the while. “Mother ai! Apaapa! I’d like to eat some black crowberries!”
“Take a few, but that’s all for today. I don’t want you getting sick to your stomach!”
“Yes! By the way, Mother, I don’t have a daddy, do I?”
Being just a child, she said whatever crossed her mind. Her mother answered, “No, it’s true, you don’t. Long ago your father died, a very long time ago. We’ll see him only in the hereafter… Long ago he fell into the water while travelling far away… He often told us to behave properly. So you too will try to behave yourself!”
“Ai! He died when I was very little!”
Mother and daughter had finished talking to each other and tried to go to sleep. But no sooner had Qumaq fallen asleep than she began to sleepwalk. She stood up and walked, sobbing, “Mother, carry me on your back… Let’s both go walking…”
Sanaaq reached out and pulled her daughter close, to put her back to sleep.
2 IRSUTUALUK AND THE FISHING DAY THAT WASN’T
Irsutualuk and his son Angutikallaaluk were going fishing for iqaluppik in the river. The time was ideal because the char were swimming upstream to the lakes. They set out on their way, intending to camp overnight by the river and taking a dog as a pack animal. As they left, the father said, “If there are any iqaluppik, we won’t be back tomorrow. We’ll try to fill several stone caches.”
They began walking. The son led their dog, Taqulik, on a leash. After a while they stopped to rest. The father heard something like a willow ptarmigan: “Irrr!…”