Nunani: War (Part Five)

By NUNATSIAQ NEWS

RACHEL ATTITUQ QITSUALIK
rachel.qitsualik@sympatico.ca

In the last article, I had provided an example of a retaliatory attack by one camp upon another — murder inciting murder — that was all-too-common among Inuit in the old days. In that attack, the so-called “Greens” were slaughtered by the vengeful “Reds.”

It was implied that the Greens lost for a reason, that reason being that they did not possess “people-killing” weapons, as did the Reds.

Weaponry is a normal part of Inuit life. Even today, many Inuit rely upon hunting big game, for which highly damaging weapons are required. If you want to eat a large animal, you must not only be able to hunt it down, but also possess the means to kill it.

In old times, life was utterly dependent upon a successful kill. A hunter could not afford to let his prey escape. An animal that was not killed almost instantly would flood its system with adrenaline, becoming immune to pain. Such an animal could escape or, even worse, turn upon the hunter and end his life.

Inept hunters were soon dead, leaving behind only those bright enough to refine their hunting technology. This form of natural selection soon left behind cultures that crafted weapons causing maximal tissue damage. Added to this natural lethality eventually came the addition of specialized features intended to harm humans.

Barbed instruments, arrows or spears, were the favourites across the north. Arrows were preferable for their range. While heavy barbing was not necessary in most animal-killing weapons, it was known that a human’s natural tendency, if hit by an arrow, would be to pull it out. The barbs of the arrow would cause as much damage coming out as from the initial wound itself. Assuming one survived the arrow, it yet might kill by causing great blood loss. Finally, upon releasing the arrow from the bow, the spin of the projectile would cause the barbs to turn, tearing their way into a wound. Out or in, the arrow would cause lethal damage.

The use of barbs was not unique to Inuit, but has arisen in many diverse ancient cultures. The Saxons, for example, were fond of their barbed angvar spears, while the Irish hero Cuchulainn wielded a barbed, maiming spear known as the gae bolg. It seems that barbs are a simple and popular device.

Alaskans were by far the most sophisticated of Inuit in their battle technology. Their retaliatory raids were large and constant. One of the most effective killing technologies they had developed was poison, originally intended for hunting whales – but just as effective against humans. Poison-tipped darts were hurled from sophisticated throwing boards which were, in design, not unlike the atl-atl used by the aboriginal peoples of Central and South America.

Many such weapons were made deadlier by the use of copper and iron tips (the origin of the iron is still in dispute; it is not known whether this was an indigenous technology that was later lost, or perhaps acquired from wayward Japanese fishing boats). With such dangerous weapons in use, it was not long before Alaskan Inuit began to armour themselves. Their clothes were hardened with applications of seal blood and resin, and there is some evidence of lamellar breastplates having been fashioned from ivory and bone. The wooden hats worn by Aleutian men were very likely intended as helmets.

Many Alaskan peoples even built permanent houses, set several feet into the ground, camouflaged by long grass, and containing secret compartments wherein women and children could hide from raiders. The ultimate weapon of such peoples inevitably became their dogs. Unlike the qimmiit of the east, which were bred for endurance and normally not considered “pets”, the Alaskans developed the Malamute – a massive, incredibly strong husky, deliberately cross-bred with wolves.

The Malamute, whose name is an anglicised distortion of Malemiut (the Inuit who originated the breed), was intended to live as one with the family, guarding it against raiders and remaining loyal unto death. Interestingly, this might qualify it as a “war dog” – a dog bred to fight humans – not unlike the medieval German Rottweiler. A living weapon, it is gentle to its friends, and deadly to its enemies – as is the function of any such tool.

It leads one to wonder, of course, what Inuit might have developed before they were handed firearms.

(Continued next week.)

Share This Story

(0) Comments