Tuktu- 8- The Magic Bow (Inuit hunting with bow and arrow)

I want to tell you a story of the old days when people were different from now in days gone by we Eskimos hunted only with weapons that we ourselves made and my father taught me the secrets of the harpoon and the bow and how these things were used [Music] in those ancient times we had no white man's guns instead we spent much time at practicing with Spears for this we often made snow bears to test our skill and prepare us for the hunt you must learn to kill nanak said my father you must learn to harpoon it Sirk learn to strike in a fight replace a wounded bear is dangerous and the seal is quick you must learn the art of spear-throwing your life and the lives of others will surely depend upon your skill and so my father made snow bears and taught me how a spear was used how to kill large animals and thus provide food for my family when I grew up all this he taught me while the snow lay thick upon the ground and summer was lost among the Far Hills my father killed fish in the ancient way he killed the seal at the breathing holes with his spear that was old as the stones the song of his fear is ancient older than the hills my father killed the caribou at the crossing place he killed all these in the ancient way the spear he used was the spear of his father the spear of all hunters from time beginning I shall not forget when my father's kayak was Swift when he killed the caribou at the crossing place I remember the crossing place where many caribou were taken and the great feasts we enjoyed after months of hunger and even famine and it was my father's weapons that filled the cooking pot in summer we hunted caribou but winter and spring was a time for living in igloos and eating of seal meat this could also be a time of hunger if the skill of the hunter failed or said no the sea goddess turned her face from us [Music] I remember the big arrow shoot when I was young when all the men of the village would practice their skill this was a time of testing not only for the hunter but also for the strength of the bow and the straightness of the arrow my father showed me how to make arrows how to make them straight he taught me how to fasten the sharp point to the shaft and to give the arrow the feathers of a bird that the arrow might fly Swift and true to each mark I wanted to grow up and use the bow and arrow one day you will do this said my mother but first you must watch and learn from your father and Harrow is not an easy thing to make for there is cunning in all things to learn the secret of a good arrow is to be a clever hunter [Music] as my father worked he talked quietly to himself perhaps he made a small poem or asked the air spirits to look with favor on the arrow my mother sang quietly as she watched beside the death as for me because I was a child I only longed to shoot an arrow of my own how far up will an arrow fly will it hit the Stars or the moon said my father if I am lucky it will kill a duck or perhaps a fox [Music] and then one day I saw my father used the drill to make a hunting bow there are rumors of great marvels in faraway places I hear there are wonders beyond the Far Hills but the wonder I knew was the skill of my father as he sat by his tent and fashioned a bow there is talk of great wonders that strangers have seen but is there a marvel as great as the bow that my father made as he sat in the Sun made with his hands from driftwood and bone I watched this great marvel as we sat by the stream I remember the song that he sang long ago the song of a bow that came from the past a timeless song of the countless years [Music] I have an old memory that comes back to me of the time my father made the bowl the memory of a fire at the Crossing place and the smell of cooking a memory of my mother who made meals for us under the clear sky of summer the days of my childhood are long since gone and I have sat beside the fires of many caps but the camp I remember is the camp of bows and arrows this memory will only leave me when I close my eyes for the last time [Music] the making of such bows is an art that is now almost forgotten now the Eskimo has the guns of white men to kill gay but long ago we made bows of caribou antlers or from wood made strong and powerful with bone wood and bone were joined together then braced and bound tightly with seniors the bow of my father was made from antlers the middle part and the two end pieces were all cleverly joined and bound to make a powerful spring my father told me that other people made bows differently but he gave me his own secrets and the bow that I made when I grew older was like his with it I killed many animals as did the bow of my father [Music] now I have a good bow set my father it is strong and very powerful with such a weapon I can kill a caribou or a bear when the great snows come we shall make snowmen then you will see tattoo and so it came about that targets were made and one fine day my father and all the hunters prepared to show their skill my uncle who was a good hunter but also a great maker of jokes said that he would prove the best at the bow shooting he said the bow of tatoos father is strong but mine is stronger the arrows of tatoos father are good but mine are better my arrows will fly straight to the target you will see I thought the words of my uncle was strange but might well be true perhaps his skill was greater than my father's so I waited anxiously and watched as the hunters made ready the snow targets and prepared to shoot their arrows now the time had come my father took the great bow in his strong hands and bent it to the pull-string the bow was very powerful but was he powerful enough to overcome the bow of my uncle we watched and waited excitement was big in my throat as the men made their last preparations for the shooting [Music] there is talk of great wonders that strangers have seen but is there a marvel as great as a bow I remember the song that my father made the song of a bow that came from the past a timeless song of the countless years the bow and the arrows were made by my father as I watched and marveled in those far-off days there is talk of great wonders that strangers have seen but the wonder I knew was a timeless bow a timeless bow from my father's hands a bow that he made in days long ago thus my father's bow was stronger than the bow of my uncle and his was the keenest eye among all the hunters of the village my uncle was disappointed but he was also generous and bad for my father he will teach you how to use the bow say my uncle learn from him talk to and you will grow up to be a great hunter and that is the way we used to live [Music] [Applause] [Music]

Channel: Alaska Extreme

Views: 1,480,119

Keywords: tuktu, eskimo, eskimo culture, inuit culture, inupiaq culture, eskimo igloo, eskimo joes, eskimo pie, native pride, indigenous, homesteading, hunters and gatherers, native americans, alaska history, canadian history, native canadians, yupik culture, native american history, bow hunting, a tribe called red, supaman, pumyua, bow and arrow, bow and arrow hunting, bow and arrow trick shots, native alaskan skills, inupiaq, yupik, inupiat

Id: 7CFqptMUlPE

Length: 14min 14sec (854 seconds)

Published: Wed Oct 25 2017