THE DWARF PEOPLE
Very long ago, before the white people
ever went into the land of the Eskimo, there was a
large village at Pik-mik-tal-ik. One winter
day the people living there were surprised to see
a small man and a small woman with a child coming
down the river on the ice. The man was so little
that he wore a coat made of a single white fox skin.
The woman’s coat was made from the skins of
two white hares; while two muskrat skins clothed the
child.
The father and mother were about two
cubits high, and the boy not over the length of one’s
forearm. Though he was so small, the man was
dragging a sled much larger than those used by the
villagers, and he had on it a heavy load of various
articles. He seemed surprisingly strong, and
when they came to the shore below the village, he easily
drew the sled up the steep bank, and taking it by the
rear end raised it on the sled frame, a feat which
would have required the strength of several of the
villagers.
The couple entered one of the houses
and were made welcome. This small family remained
in the village for some time, the man taking his place
among the other men and seeming entirely at home and
friendly. He was very fond of his little son;
but one day when the latter was playing outside the
house, he was bitten so badly by a savage dog that
he died. In his anger the father caught the dog
up by the tail and struck it against a post so violently
that the dog fell in halves.
In his great sorrow, the father made
a handsome, carved grave-box for his son and placed
the child with his toys in it. Then he went into
his house and for four days he did no work and would
see no one. At the end of that time he took his
sled, and with his wife returned up the river on their
old trail, while the villagers sorrowfully watched
them go, for they had come to like the pair very much.
Before this time the villagers had
always made the body of their sleds from long strips
of wood running lengthwise; but after they had seen
the dwarf’s sled with many crosspieces, they
adopted that model.
Before this time, too, they had always
cast their dead out on the tundra to be devoured by
the dogs and wild beasts; but after they had seen
the dwarf people bury their son in a grave-box with
toys placed about him, they buried their dead in that
way and observed four days of mourning as had been
done by the dwarf; for they liked him and his gentle
manners.
And ever since that time the hunters
coming home at dusk and looking toward the darkening
tundra, sometimes see dwarf people who carry bows
and arrows, but who disappear into the ground if one
tries to approach them. They are harmless people,
never attempting to do anyone an injury. No one
has ever spoken to these dwarfs since the time they
left the village; but deer hunters have often seen
their tracks near the foot of the mountains.