The shamans of the American Eskimo of the nearest shore of Alaska also enjoy the respect of their Asiatic neighbors, both Maritime Chukchee and Asiatic Eskimo. In one tale a contest between two shamans - one an American, one an Asiatic - ends with a full victory for the American, although the shaman from the Asiatic shore resorts even to treachery, and is severely punished for it.
The Chukchee, by Waldemar Bogoras
There lived a man in his hut - yaranga. His name was Kookylin. He had a wife and three children. His kids had not let him lie around - they were used to eating up everything very quickly. Almost each day Kookylin went out to hunt for food, but there were few game birds at that place, and often he returned home empty-handed. In the long run, he got tired of such a life, and one day he thought:
"Well, now I might pretend to be dead, like I have already died. When they bury me, I will live alone, I will have my fill!"
One day he pretended to be ill: he fell to the ground and was lying motionless on his back. Then he said to his wife:
"When I do grow old (pass away), don't cut my clothes. Simply take them off and put beside me. Put my weapon, a bola (a sort of sling) and a knife-cleaver, by my side. And send a pan, a pot and some meat with me. Maybe in the next world, if revive, I will need something."
Really he had seen life not so long and then died. His wife and children shed a few tears, and then began to bury him according to the ancient custom. They brought him to a remote place. His sons put him on the ground and covered his body with stones. They put his clothes in the grave, as he had instructed, without cutting. They left him some food, the pan, the bola, the knife and the pot. They left him alone and then went home.
When the mourners vanished over the horizon, Kookylin got up, dressed himself and began to build a cabin - nynloo. For a few days he had built the nynloo and began hunting. The man felt free and used to catch a lot of ptarmigans. Indeed, he ate his fill every day. He lived a happy life, forgetting about his old home.
And his wife would go out of the yaranga in the morning and sit on a stone in sorrow - her husband died! A little later, she would take her knife and snares and go hunting...
With the lapse of time, Kookylin stopped thinking about his family. He enjoyed in the morning, cutting meat off the ptarmigan's legs, pounding it with fat and eating to satiety. He sat by the fire in his dugout, stirring the fat with the meat in the pan and singing:
"Kookyl, Kookyl, Kookylin - I eat the fat of the land!" He was stirring and singing:
"Kookyl, Kookyl, Kookylin - oh, yea!"
Once an arctic fox saw him hunting in the tundra, and ran off down the road. At that time the wife of Kookylin was sitting at her yaranga. Suddenly she saw the arctic fox running around the corner. The woman thought:
"Why is she walking just here? It's cool!" The woman looked then: it was already not the fox but a young woman. And the fox-woman asked the wife of Kookylin:
"What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, my husband has recently died - about him and my poor children I'm thinking!" "He didn't die - your husband! There he lives, up the road. He is alive and kicking! Not long ago I saw him hunting ptarmigans thereabout. Come on, dear, put my skin on, run and look!"
The wife of Kookylin took the skin of the fox and put it on. At the same moment she turned into a fox, and went then running up the road.
"Hey, when you take a look at your husband and be running back, pull your tail out - you'll be able to run as fast as the wind!" shouted the fox-woman.
The wife of Kookylin came to the pointed place and saw: the curling smoke was rising over a hillock. She came nearer and looked inside: her husband was in the nynloo, sitting by the fire. He had put the pan between his legs and was mixing fat with meat.
"Kookyl, Kookyl, Kookylin - oh, yea!" The man kept singing and pounding the fat with the meat.
"Hey, you there, it seems that Kookylin is dead!" shouted the woman inside the nynloo.
"Oh, no, no! I'm not dead, I am alive! Is that you, honey? Come in, dear, wait for me! I'm filled with ptarmigans, I can't run quickly. Come on, help me to drag the game birds home," answered the man.
He looked out - there was nobody around. Only an arctic fox was running away. Kookylin took some ptarmigans and went home down the road. When he came there, his wife glanced at him, sitting in the yaranga and said:
"Hey, man, a little bird told me that Kookylin is dead!"
"No, no, dear, I'm not dead. I have caught many ptarmigans. I myself couldn't even bring them here. Help me please, we have to bring them home."
And they began to drag over his ptarmigans. The man moved back to their yaranga and they continued to live as before. But Kookylin had not lived long; he soon became really ill and then died shortly afterwards.
Thus Kookylin the Dodger departed to that country, from which no one has ever returned.
![Kookylin the Dodger [Славянский Владимир Владимирович]](/img/s/slawjanskij_wladimir_wladimirowich/kookylinthedodger/kookylinthedodger.jpg)