Across the Spectrum

by Nagle, Pati

  Raven and the tree flew through the air for many days until they came to the sun, but it was wedged firmly in the sky and Raven couldn’t move it. Nearby, though, he found some of the icy rocks that had been in the cedar box. He gathered up as many as he could and brought them back to the people. The rocks made it a little cooler and a little wetter, but everyone could see that many, many rocks would be needed to make the world cool and wet again.

  That is why the sun and the moons and the stars shine down from the sky, and why the world is dry, and why the people build totems of black cedar and go to hunt the ice boulders.

  That is why we have the great hunt.

  ∞

  When I was a young man, just a few years older than you, the elders saw the signs in the sky and declared it was time for the great hunt. They sent all the clan’s hunters to cut a black cedar tree, while the gatherers set up camp at the traditional carving place.

  Every step in the preparation of the great hunt totem must be performed exactly according to the ancient ways, or the totem will lose its way. Or even worse! In my father’s day a clan near Irkaluit was destroyed by a great fire while carving their totem.

  Only the wisest elders and the hunters with the surest hands do the actual carving. I was with another group of hunters, who went to the encampment of the glass people for trading.

  No, they are not made of glass! Who told you that? Well, your sister is wrong, and you can tell her Grandfather Ukaliq told you so. We call them the glass people because they make so many things of glass. Even their houses are made of glass! In my great-grandfather’s day they wore glass hats that covered their heads completely, but they are not so vain today.

  Even the biggest glass person is no bigger than you, and as skinny as a hare’s foreleg. They always wear bulky clothing—to keep them warm, they say, but I think they are ashamed of their tiny, sunken chests. Their skins are very pale, and they smell like burnt antler. But they are much stronger than they look.

  Some say the glass people are very stupid. It’s true that they are poor traders, but they are excellent healers and great travelers. And great liars! One tried to convince me he was born on a star!

  Despite their lies, the glass people can be trusted to provide the things we need for the great hunt. We brought many fine carvings, which we had been making and saving for just this purpose ever since the last great hunt, and traded them for sheets of glass, rings of metal, special carving tools, and other objects used only for the great hunt totem. We needed special tools because the outer wood of the black cedar is so strong and hard. But the heartwood is soft, and burns hotter and faster than any other tree.

  You probably think the great hunt totem is like the totems we carve for the summer longhouse. It is much bigger—as tall as five people, and so big around that two people can barely join hands around it at the base—but that is not the most important difference. Ordinary totems are solid wood, but the great hunt totem is riddled with hollows and channels. Some are so big a person can crawl inside; all are decorated with the bright glass and metal objects we get from the glass people. Everything must be prepared according to the elders’ wisdom, even though much of it cannot be seen, or the totem will surely lose its way.

  Another difference in a great hunt totem is that the figure on the top, not the bottom, is the most important. In our totem the topmost figure was Raven himself. He was carefully carved out inside, and the space within was decorated with the finest and most elaborate pieces in the most ancient patterns. The other figures—Bear, Badger, and Hare—were mostly solid inside; smaller hollow spaces were made and decorated between the figures, as tradition dictates.

  While the totem was being carved, the great hunt candidates spent each day being instructed in the rituals of the hunt. We learned to read the patterns of the stars: Whale and Seal and the other legendary creatures became our guides and companions. We learned the rituals of purification and cleansing that must be performed before and during the hunt. We learned the traditional chants and the dances that went with them. Grandmother Tiriganiaq would strike me with her stick if I dropped a phrase or chanted too fast; many candidates failed because they could not keep proper time.

  Most important of all, we learned to wear and care for our ritual garments. The great hunt costume is vital to the hunt; it protects the wearer from malicious spirits who would steal his soul. It is made of a special fabric we get from the glass people, more supple than doeskin but tough and waterproof, and must be kept completely clean and free of any holes or tears. Mine was made for me by my mother and my grandfather Udjuk. It represented Porcupine, with bold red and black stripes on the arms and legs and a grand headdress that covered my whole head and face.

  In the end ten of us knew all the chants and dances. Our bodies were strong and purified, and our minds were full of knowledge. Finally, on the day the carving of the great hunt totem was complete, each of us was taken away from the camp by three elders and made to perform the entire ritual alone, while they watched stony-faced.

  I cleansed myself three times. I struggled into the heavy and awkward ritual garments, and carefully sealed all the openings to keep my soul from being stolen. I stood in a circle drawn in the dirt, the exact size of the hollow inside Raven, and executed each chant and dance, speaking the name of each sacred object as I pretended to touch it in the prescribed way.

  The watching elders were silent, offering no assistance or criticism, but I could see their heads nod as they chanted along with me under their breath. When the test was done I stood panting while they conferred on my performance. Finally Grandmother Koovianatuklook spoke: “You have performed adequately.” That was all. They left me there to cleanse the ritual garments and haul them back to camp by myself.

  The next day the elders called a council of the whole clan. When all were gathered, Grandfather Umingmak raised both hands and spoke: “Six of the candidates have performed adequately, demonstrating a complete command of our most sacred traditions and rituals. Of these six, it is traditional for the elders to select the one of greatest strength and agility to represent our clan in the great hunt. But on this occasion we have been unable to reach a consensus. There are two candidates of equal qualification: Natsiq and Ukaliq.” The blood roared in my ears, nearly drowning out his following words: “These two will compete in the pole game to select our representative.”

  Once again I cleansed myself, carefully inspected my sacred costume, and sealed myself inside it. This time Natsiq—my father’s brother’s daughter, and my companion in many games and hunts—performed the same rituals beside me as she donned her own costume. Finally we faced each other, two creatures of legend, and raised our hands in salute.

  The poles were brought out, as tall as a person and brightly painted, with two crossbars fixed at the top of each. The other candidates raised the poles, two strides apart, and held them while Natsiq and I scrambled to their tops. I hooked my thighs over the top crossbar and my feet under the bottom one, to lock myself to the pole. My balancing rod, a long straight wand of yew, was handed up to me. I was given a moment to find the center of the rod and position it horizontally across my chest. I saw that Natsiq had done the same. Then the other candidates released the poles, and the pole game began. The last one vertical would be the victor.

  For the first few moments we just teetered, rods wavering. The people outside the circle of candidates shouted and cheered at each movement. The muscles of my chest and back strained as I used my rod to counter each motion before it could turn into a fall, and my legs and stomach burned from clenching the crossbars.

  Then I saw Natsiq’s rod swinging around toward me. I moved my rod to block it, but nearly unbalanced myself in doing so. My left shoulder felt as though it were tearing open, but by sheer luck I managed to knock Natsiq’s rod with my own, so she was also distracted while I fought back to center.

  I took advantage of this opening to strike at Natsiq’s head; my rod seemed to move as slowly as the greate
r moon in its path through the sky. Natsiq managed to slip her rod under mine, and pushed up. But I pushed down, sending both of us into a frenzy of waving and dipping to stay upright. The crowd yelled encouragement; my breath roared in my headdress.

  I nearly toppled, but saved myself by pushing at the ground with my rod. Seeing me defenseless, Natsiq struck quickly, landing the end of her rod squarely in the center of my chest. As I started to fall back, I did the only thing I could: I pushed with my planted rod. A great cheer exploded from the crowd as I overbalanced and started to fall toward Natsiq instead.

  Natsiq’s rod still hovered before my chest. I released my own rod and grabbed the end of hers. Natsiq’s eyes were wide behind her ceremonial mask as I pushed wildly to stop my forward movement, pushing Natsiq back. Her eyes never left mine as she tipped back, back, back, and landed in the arms of the other candidates. I was left atop my pole with no rod, waving my arms frantically, for a long moment before I too fell.

  Natsiq and I struggled to our feet and saluted each other. The noise of the crowd doubled as I unsealed my headdress; I waved at them, then embraced Natsiq. She stiffened at first, then squeezed me back. After a long hug we held each other at arms’ length. There were tears in Natsiq’s eyes, but she held her chin high and smiled as she shouted above the din of the crowd: “You have performed adequately!”

  After that my training only increased in intensity. The final ceremony of the great hunt would begin in just two days. I drilled constantly, until my muscles ached and the rhythms of the traditional chants controlled even my dreams. I ate only sacred meals, building up my spiritual energy for the hunt. I cleaned and inspected every part of my ceremonial garments over and over. Meanwhile the elders and hunters completed the preparation of the great hunt totem, moving it from the carving place to the rocky valley nearby and standing it erect.

  The morning of the final ceremony found me fully awake before first light. I had slept, but fitfully; I was too excited. I was even a little scared. I knew that not every hunter returns from the great hunt. Totems lose their way; hunters’ souls escape through unnoticed tears in their clothing; ice boulders crush hunters by accident.

  I reminded myself that, even if I did not return, I would represent my clan in the great hunt and bring honor on us all. Some clans are too poor to trade with the glass people. Some do not complete their totems in time, or do not find any successful candidates among their young people. Our clan is great, and has participated in every great hunt since time began. Be proud of this.

  I walked alone in the predawn light to the valley where my totem awaited me. The rising sun shone on the bold red, black, and white patterns. I greeted noble Bear, brave Badger, clever Hare, and mighty Raven—who glittered in the sun with the bits of glass and metal worked into his design—and wished them well for the great hunt. Then I returned to camp, where the whole clan was beginning preparations for the day’s ceremonies.

  My day began with a substantial breakfast, to sustain me for the hunt. I would eat only the most consecrated foods on the hunt itself. Then I cleansed myself three times and donned once more the ritual garments. The elders inspected them carefully before I dressed, and again once I was fully costumed, to be sure my soul would be properly protected from the hazards of the hunt. Finally I sealed the headdress onto my shoulders, and the elders and I walked slowly down to the rocky valley.

  The other candidates were there, standing in a ring around the great hunt totem, all wearing their ceremonial garb. Around them in a larger ring was gathered the whole clan. As soon as we came in view, a great shout went up from the crowd, and they all chanted my name song as I walked with the elders to the center. Once we had seated ourselves, the drums began pounding and the candidates leapt into the ice boulder dance, to bring me luck on the hunt. I was very proud of them.

  After the dance, the candidates stood panting before me and the elders. Grandfather Umingmak thanked them for their efforts and encouraged all the people to bend their thoughts toward success in the great hunt. Then a climbing pole was brought in for me to ascend the totem. My heart leapt in my chest as I realized the great hunt itself was about to begin.

  My mother and father held the pole steady, and I formally thanked them for birthing and raising me before I clambered to the top. There I found a pot of paint and a brush waiting. As I spoke the words of the awakening chant, I carefully painted in the pupils of Raven’s eyes so he would guide the totem safely. I made them as big and as round as I could so that he could see clearly. When I was finished I lowered the pot and brush on a cord to the elders below, then stepped inside Raven’s body. The climbing pole was pulled away as I fastened the door behind me.

  The hollow space inside Raven was glorious with color. The entire space was painted with a single giant image of Raven, centered on the seat carved into the floor where I positioned myself. Raven’s beak rose over my head, and his wings—encrusted with the most sacred objects and punctuated here and there with glass—enfolded me in their embrace. I was honored to know that only I would see this marvelous work, and I knew Raven would be pleased by it and keep me safe. I continued the awakening chant as I fastened the clasps of the many necklaces and belts that would protect my spirit. The chant concluded with the words “Mighty Raven, hear my voice: guide me well and bring me success in the great hunt!”

  Next after the awakening chant came the Bear chant. Through the glass in Raven’s feathers I could see the people gathered, far in the distance, while I touched each bead and carving as prescribed by the chant. Bear began to stir below me as he responded to the demanding rhythms of the chant. He shrugged and rumbled louder and louder, and I chanted harder just to hear my own voice. Finally, touching the amulet of Bear fastened beneath my left hand, I firmly chanted “Noble Bear, hear my voice: awaken and carry me to the great hunt!”

  Bear responded with a mighty shout. The sound of his voice was a thousand thunders, so great it shook the world and turned the sky from blue to black. I felt the spirit of Bear standing upon my chest as he roared in my ears, but I did not omit one syllable of the chant.

  Now began the Badger chant. This was the most critical chant of all: the slightest deviation in timing would bring down Badger’s immediate wrath, and not even Bear and Raven together could keep me safe. I do not understand how Bear and Badger could hear me, so loud was Bear’s voice. But just as I spoke the words “Brave Badger, hear my voice: bend your back and carry me on in the great hunt” and touched the Badger amulet under my right hand, Bear stepped off my chest and Badger began to roar instead.

  Badger is not so large or fierce as Bear, but he is powerful. The mere sound of Badger’s growl rattled my bones and drummed on my belly, making my whole body tremble. Badger’s spirit walked from one end of my body to the other, but as I chanted I felt him tread more and more lightly. Finally he leapt away from the totem with a great jolt, leaving me alone with silent Raven and Hare.

  A great lightness came upon my soul then. Some may tell you that Raven and the other spirit beings do not exist, that they are only tales we tell ourselves to help the world make sense. I know this is not true, for I have heard their voices. If that mere sound was enough to make my head spin and my stomach tumble for days, imagine what would happen to you if you actually saw mighty Raven in the flesh! Surely your poor body could not withstand it.

  I thanked Bear and Badger for their help, then began the great hunt chant. Like the caribou chant, it politely asks the ice boulders to come and give themselves, and promises that we will remember them in our songs and stories. We must always show respect for those we hunt.

  As my mind settled into the rhythms of the chant the whole world, red and ochre, seemed to spread out below me. Twinkling lights in the distance were my fellow hunters; I knew that they were chanting with me in their own totems. The sun rose and set, but it seemed to me that each day passed in just a few breaths. And whether or not the sun was shining, the sky was as black as when the world was new.

&nb
sp; Finally the ice boulders heard the hunters’ chants and came in view. At first they were just tiny lights, smaller than the stars, but they grew until I could see them clearly, slowly tumbling against the black of the sky and the red of the ground.

  I selected carefully, as the elders had taught me; I knew I would have only one chance. I wanted to pick a boulder that was large, but not too large, and not tumbling too quickly. I also needed to observe my fellow hunters to be sure we all chose different prey.

  After careful consideration I set my eye on a fine large boulder that turned slowly at the near edge of the pack, and began the stalking dance. In this dance, and the accompanying chant, the hunter must bring all his skills to bear. It is not simple memorization; each movement and word must be carefully chosen for the current situation.

  The pole game is important to the great hunt because it is preparation for the stalking dance. In the pole game, you must learn to move your body this way so you do not fall that way. The stalking dance uses the same moves, but the dancer’s movements cause the bells and rattles on the ceremonial garments to sound in certain ways. Raven and Hare hear these sounds, and move the entire totem in the desired direction. The belts and amulets on the sacred garments must be positioned and fastened exactly properly for this to work.

  Gingerly I moved up on my chosen prey, quietly chanting reassurances. Ice boulders will never attack a person deliberately, but they are stubborn, and that makes them dangerous. Many hunters have been killed simply by getting between two boulders intent on each other. Raven and Hare muttered in my ears as they nudged my totem closer and closer to the boulder’s gray, pockmarked surface. The closer I got, the bigger it appeared and the faster it seemed to tumble, but I fought down my fear: I was determined to bring down this boulder for the sake of our clan and the whole people.