Eskimo

If they are casual in their attitude toward God, they are more direct when dealing with spirits, and here become voluble and explicit. This is because they are on more familiar terms with the spirits, and because the shamans--the medicine men-- find it useful to keep the idea of spirits very much in the ordinary Inuk's mind. 

In the ancient religion they must once have had I have reached the conclusion that God was regarded as primary, but just too remote to be interested in the affairs of lowly mortals. He was happy by himself in His ethereal abode and bothered little with events below, leaving mundane matters entirely in the hands of lesser authorities, secondary gods that the Eskimos think of as spirits. We find the same kind of crude religion in Siberia and Mongolia, and the same assignment of intermediary power to a class of men, the shamans. The word "shaman" itself is Mongolian, and there is no doubt that the Eskimos brought the tradition of shamanism with them when they crossed the Bering Strait. 

Such is the Eskimo religion today--a rather debased and worldly religion that hardly merits being described as such, for there is in its concept nothing to adore or honor, but only spirits to propitiate. Are they angels or devils? According to the Eskimos, they are a little of both, a mixture of good and evil like human beings. "Since they deal with humans," the Inuk reasons, "must they not be like humans?" According to the Eskimo description, the spirits are something like the jinn of the Arabas, strange imps always looking for mischief, hiding behind corners in wait for human beings, like cranky poliemen who find their fun in picking quarrels with peaceful citizens. 

This shamanism is the only religion we have found among the Eskimos, and a certain body of tradition and formalism surrounds it. There are elements of animism in the Eskimo's vague beliefs. To him each object, be it rock, animal, or ice, is endowed with life. Even ideas, notions, the weather, sickness are thought either to be spirits or to be inhabited by spirits. A caribou is killed, for example. His flesh may be eaten, but his breath, his "soul," is just waiting around, perhaps nearby, and certain conventions are observed that the Eskimo believes will keep the caribou's spirit friendly. They will never, for instance, boil caribou meat, or sew the animal's skin during the months of darkness when the sun is gone. To do so would offend the caribou's "Anernek"--his "breath," "spirit", or "soul." A similar reasoning prompts them, when a relative dies, to give his name quickly to a dog, so that the spirit will have a place to rest until a child is born to inherit it. The Anernek is a fletting thing, easily lost, and every artifice must be brought to bear to prevent its prowling and creating trouble.

You may write it off as superstition, and of course in a way it is just that. Wasn't it Montaigne who observed that "since man has never been able to create a worm, he makes divinities every other day?" We have superstitions among our western peoples. Some otherwise rational and sensible humans in Paris, London, or New York are afraid to begin any venture on the thirteenth day of the month, especially if the thirteenth falls on a Friday. Others refuse to accept the third light from a match, even though the perfectly practical wartime origin of this custom has been explained to them. Some touch wood or cross their fingers, others carry favorite pennies. 

We must be indulgent toward Eskimo superstition, but we shouldn't forget that superstitions are signs of clouding faith, and that the spirits the Eskimos believe in are the last faint glimmers of an extinguished religion.

I once asked an Eskimo friend: "Tell me, now, you have so many evil spirits; aren't there any good ones?"

The old man grinned, considering this, then answered, "Well, Falla, of course there must be some good ones too, but we don't bother thinking about them. If they are good, they won't do us harm, eh? Whereas with the evil ones it is quite a different matter. They are always after us. Trouble? It's their middle name. So we have to coax them all the time, don't you see?"

Children's arithmetic? Maybe. But to the Eskimo it's just diplomacy.

In his serious dealing with the spirits the Eskimo never acts independently or makes a direct approach. He seeks a shaman whose function it is to act as intermediary, to intercede for him. The shaman is always a powerful fellow who is reported to have demonstrated his power in some dramatic fashion.

"Why, that medicine man," Ayaligak told me, "was so powerful he could thrust a harpoon into his chest and draw it out without leaving a scar!"

"Did you see it happen?" I asked.

"Well, no," Ayaligak confessed, "not exactly. But I heard about it. Everybody knows it's true."

One is reminded of the Soviet diplomatists who will describe the most atrocious falsehood as "that well-known fact." "It is a well-known fact," the Communist blandly announces, "that millions of people in the Unites States die each year from starvation." Loud applause from the gallery; perfect belief from the poor sheep. It must be true, you know. Isn't it a "well-known fact"?

So the power of the "Augatko"--the shaman--must be believed if only because it s well-known. Hitler must have had the Inuit in mind when he pronounced the doctrine of the Big Lie. For an Inuk will believe anything if it is stated boldly enough. And usually the Augatko backs up his claims to supernatural power with an act of hypnotism, autosuggestion, or sleight-of-hand. Once he has established himself he is absolutely secure and doesn't have to trouble much about window-dressing for his magic. He can take a piece of filthy caribou skin, roll it up, announce that it's a dog, and send it forth into the night to haunt the client's enemy. The poor Inuk is so completly impressed that he soon believes he is haunted himself and begins to see that awful dog lurking near his igloo. 

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The Eskimo used to hunt only what he needed--bear, seal, caribou.

The little foxes--Tiriganiak--he despised. In the old days the Copper Eskimo hardly recognized the existence of the fox. If he met one on the trail he might risk an arrow on him, just to try his skill, but never because he wanted the animal. Fox meat makes poor eating, and fox fur is too frail for anything but baby clothes.

But fashionable women in Paris and New York did not share the Inuk's contempt for the fox. They regarded Tiriganiak's silvery fur as a perfect complement to their gleaming shoulders. What women want, men will get, and so the white man came to the Arctic after foxes and dinned into the Eskimo's ear the value of fox pelts.

"Do you want a rifle, eh, Inuk? Ammunition? Then go and get us foxes, plenty of foxes. Plenty of foxes."

The Eskimo wanted the white man's rifle, steel knife, fish net, boat. So he went after foxes. And soon he found he was so busy getting the miserable little animals that he had no time left in which to hunt for real meat--for bear and caribou. Observing the white traders, he saw them eating bread and jam, and tea with sugar. The new food was no good. It had no taste, and certainly didn't stay with one on the trail. But the Inuk wanted to imitate the Krabloonak. He ate the white man's sugar, and soon it became a habit. He found that he could not do without it. 

"Sugar!" he says. "The Eyebrows offered it to us for nothing, just to try, and we threw it away. The taste of that sand was so bad. Now we have got to like it, but they no longer give it to us. They sell it, and dearly. Mamianar! Calamity!"

Systematically, the white traders ensared the Eskimos, making them slaves to commodities of which they had felt no need before the Eyebrows came, unnecessary luxuries such as flour, silk, sugar, even chewing gum. All these things the Inuit paid for--by giving up his healthy, free life in exchange for trivial luxuries. He ceased to be a hunter, in many cases, and became a trapper, a slave to the little foxes he despised. Thus Tiriganiak--the smallest of all--revolutionized the Eskimo's life, at least the lives of those Eskimos close enough to the traders' posts to come under their influence.

Not too long ago, all Eskimos hunted to clothe and feed themselves. Now they go after foxes, with which to buy some jam, or a Micky Mouse watch, or a cheap, tinny-sounding phonograph. They haven't time to hunt fo seal to provide oil for their lamps, so they buy the white man's kerosene. More foxes. There is no caribou meat on hand, so he eats the white man's flour. More foxes. Soon he lives in a vicious circle, like a knifegrinder's dog in his wheel cage.

Thus, in those areas where the traders hold sway, the happy hunter of old has become a kind of clerk. Once fierce and independent, ignoring tomorrow and contemptuous of anyone who mentioned it, now he is always in debt, as badly off as a petty office worker caught in the clutches of the race-track bookmaker. Once his life was diversified--today hunting, tomorrow sealing, the next day fishing--whatever satisifed the whim of the moment. Now he must turn all his energies toward the capture of the fox. And the supreme irony, of which he is aware, is in the fact that he, the Agun, the male, must outstrip himself to satisfy the desires of the scorned Arna--the woman. And the Krabloonak's woman, at that.

Along the coast, noawadays, one often hears from the Eskimos a bitter, disillusioned cry. "Kakertogot taima"..."We are always hungry now."

Of course they were hungry. The Eskimo is a carnivore. His body craves meat--seal, bear, caribou, fish--and the climate and his hard life aren't satisfied by anything else. Half a grapefruit and a couple of pieces of toast are not the breakfast for the Inuk at all, but for another class of people.

Yet the Inuk counts on the little foxes to provide his sustenance all the year round, and sometimes the foxes don't turn up. Then he's in trouble. Then there is famine. And it is usually too late before the Inuit resign themselves to going out on the ice after seals, as they should have done early in the winter. They starve. At Coppermine, in 1948, for example the whole Eskimo colony kept alive only by eating old skins, boots, and other rubbish--and this not fifteen miles from a white man's settlement.

You might blame the traders themselves, and it is true that some are mightily unscrupulous, but it is not the individuals who should be blamed, but the system, and the government that encourages it. I am told that such tragedy is not known among the Eskimos in Greenland, under Danish rule, though it matches the colonial pattern elsewhere--in the sugar islands of the Caribbean, for eample, where the natives were persuaded to forego their food crops in order to plant sugar cane, and where starvation results when the sugar crop is poor or when the market drops and the price breaks. 

The Eskimos have never heard of the seven lean kine. A trapper may bag three hundred foxes in one year and three the next, but it never occurs to him to store provisions against a bad season. Of course, we must blame him for his improvidence. But must we not also blame the white men who profit vilely from the Eskimo's ignorance, who take advantage of a good fox season by importing diamond rings, gold watches, silk dresses, chronometers, and similar goods? Of what use is a diamond ring to a woman who's going to wear it for cutting seal blubber, if she's lucky enough to have a seal to cut up? What good is a chronometer, complete with sweep second hand, to a man who doesn't care a whit for time? Of what use is a silk dress under a greasy caribou parka?

With melancholy one must watch a venal civilization displace the old Eskimo style. The white man is as devious as Sila. He takes much, and gives little. He talks big, and the rewards look inviting, but when the season is over he has the foxes and what has Inuk?

An empty belly. A forlorn view of the future. The precious watch will soon be opened to see what makes it tick and ruined by snow or water. The elegant dress will soon because a greasy snot-stained rag. The diamong ring will not be worn long before it is lost down a seals' hole. Alas!

Amulets, tokens, charms, magic spells, tabus...How much do the Inuit remember from the pool of common knowledge?

Once I was telling them the story of the Flood. An old man became quite excited, and finally interrupted me. Yes, he agreed, in their stories too was the legend of the Great Tide that had swamped the world, drowning all but two or three Eskimos, who had retreated to the peak of a mighty mountain. 

An Eskimo heaven also is mentioned--Kowiasokvik--The Place of Happiness. It is something like the Indians' Happy Hunting Ground, a material paradise, overflowing with game, a haven where there is no hunger, no cold, no misery, where the dogs are always fresh and the snow always the right consistency. You get to Kowiasokvik by doing what the shamans say, wearing your amulets, observing the tabus, and following the Eskimo moral code, which is quite different from ours.

Goodness, according to Eskimo standards, is not a personal but a social matter entirely. An Eskimo may be a sexual monster, a child murderer, a drunkard, a thief, a liar, and a brute. If he is a good hunter, his reputation will be unclouded. After all the Eskimos reason, he was not born for his name to grace the pages of the Alamanach de Gotha, but to kill caribou. If he kills plenty of caribou, he is a good community breadwinner, hence a good fellow, worthy of respect. What he does privately, so far as killing his children or raping his neighbor's daugter is concerned--well, that's nobody's business, really, is it? When he dies he is sure to go to the happy hunting grounds of the Eskimo hereafter. 

There is an interesting parallel here between Eskimo morality and the morality advertised in the Soviet Union, where the greatest crimes are those against the state. A man may be a brute, a contemptible character personally, but if he's thought of as a good communist, a loyal servant of the Soviet state, why, proletarian ethics takes care of it all and he's a hero. If there is a communist Kowiasokvik, he is certain of a reserved seat.

The Eskimo hunter, after death, is always provided with certain necessities, things he will need in that other hunting ground. Beside his body, on some hilltop, will be placed his knife, harpoon, and rifle, and you find these things all over the countryside, mixed with the bones that the foxes have left. Beside the bodies of women they leave stone lamps, needles, and cooking utensils. Her job in Kowiasokvik, it seems, will be the same old round of cooking, sewing, and interminably tending the recalcitrant seal-oil lamp.

One only hopes that a Chief far greater than Atanek, a Chief to whom the Inuit did not pray, may have given his welcome to the weary Eskimo hunters. Surely the Redeemer, Who came for all sinners, will not have refused the poor Inuk, the poor wanderer from the frozen steppes, whose journey certainly has been longer and harder than that endured by most men. 

A number of evidences indicate a mechanism of adaptation to ketosis. In our Eskimo studies it is observed that the degree of ketonuria is less than what is normally observed in Whites on a similar diet. On the other hand, an Eskimo soldier who had lived for several months on the normal Army mess rations excreted the same amounts of acetone as the normal white soldiers when given a "ketogenic" diet. In the subjects studied by McClellan and DuBois (1930) the ketonuria diminished after several months on a carbohydrate-free diet

Introduction. 

With the increasing human activities in circumpolar areas in recent years, the problem of an adequate and physiologically suitable ration with high caloric density has been the subject for much dispute among physiologists and nutritionists. Although a high protein diet has been successfully used by Eskimos and arctic travellers for generations, both as trail diet and emergency rations, there has been a tendency in recent years to emphasize the desirability of an all-carbohydrate ration ( Mellinger, 1948, Roth, 1948, Dyme, 1950). One of the main arguments in favor of the carbohydrate ration has been its antiketogenic effect, assuming harmful effect of slight ketosis even during the short periods of survival in question under arctic conditions. 

With reference to these questions a study was designed, the purpose of which was to consider a high-carbohydrate versus a high-protein diet, with reference to physiological adequacy and an evaluation of the physiological and clinical significance of ketosis under strenuous arctic field conditions during midwinter in Alaska. 

4. Discussion. 

It is clearly realized that the determination of ketone bodies is subject to considerable inaccuracy. However, the reported data indicate that under the conditions of the test the excretion of urinary acetone in the meat group never exceeded 1 g per day. The highest figure recorded was 8 66 mg which is a very small amount. 

According to Peters and Van Slyke (1946), ketones are regularly found in the urine of healthy persons leading a normal life. Van Slyke found as much as 280 mg ketones per 1000 ml urine. Others have reported figures between 7 and 125 mg daily. 

Under conditions such as total starvation when all energy is derived from protein and fat, the production of ketone bodies by the liver is accelerated and the excretion of ketones in the urine increases. In normal adults the appearance of gross ketonuria, according to Peters and Van Slyke (1946), does not reach its height until 3 to 5 days of the fast have elapsed. As starvation proceeds ketosis gradually diminishes. He states that in the normal male, ketosis of starvation does not reach serious proportions because sufficient carbohydrate is derived from protein and oxidized, and the levels of blood ketones are not high enough to tax severely the mechanism for the preservation of acid-base equilibrium. In one subject about 6 g of ii-hydroxybutyric acid were excreted daily in the urine for the last two weeks of a 31-day fast. In diabetic acidosis ketonuria may reach values 10 times higher than this. 

Compared with these figures the amounts of acetones excreted in the urine in our subjects on the meat ration are insignificant, and it appears that this slight ketonuria observed under these conditions for the periods considered likely as the duration of a survival situation would have no appreciably harmful effect. 

Exercise greatly increases the ketosis, and a 10-mile walk in the morning without breakfast will produce distinct ketonuria in a healthy person who otherwise is living on a normal diet (Courtice and Douglas, 1936). 

A number of evidences indicate a mechanism of adaptation to ketosis. In our Eskimo studies it is observed that the degree of ketonuria is less than what is normally observed in Whites on a similar diet. On the other hand, an Eskimo soldier who had lived for several months on the normal Army mess rations excreted the same amounts of acetone as the normal white soldiers when given a "ketogenic" diet. In the subjects studied by McClellan and DuBois (1930) the ketonuria diminished after several months on a carbohydrate-free diet. 

Deuel and Oulick (1932) have demonstrated that ketosis develops more rapidly and attains greater intensity in women than in men. 

It has been repeatedly observed that ketosis frequently occurs under strenuous field conditions regardless of the diet, and Sargent and Consolazio (1951) showed that the ketosis is reduced when the same subject undergoes repeated field tests, indicating some evidence of adaptation. 

In an Arctic bivouac at Fort Churchill the approximate caloric expenditure was 4000 calories per day. The caloric intake was about 3600. Under these conditions all the men showed trace quantities of urinary ketones almost every day, starting on the third day in the bivouac (Molnar et al., 1942). 

Of the great variety of physical fitness tests (Cureton, 1947), the Treadmill Test was selected for practical reasons. It should be emphasized, however, that physical fitness is exceedingly difficult to evaluate, not only because the meaning of physical fitness is far from clear, but also because the result of the test is greatly dependent upon a number of factors beyond the control of the observer. 

In all cases we observed an improvement at the end of the field phase, most marked in the carbohydrate group, associated with approximately 10-pound weight loss (7.5 %). 

It should be noted that the subjects had been living on a caloric deficit of the order of 2000 calories a day, and performing daily route marches of 10 miles. 

In the case of untrained personnel in poor physical condition, one would expect an improvement in physical fitness during the field phase. Our subjects, however, were all well trained and in excellent physical condition at the onset of the experiment. The factor of physical training therefore can hardly explain the difference in the physical fitness scores. 

On the other hand, it appears that the weight loss may be the most important factor in explaining the observed difference. The subjects started off probably slightly overweight and the loss of 7 per cent of their body weight would tend to increase their physical performance, since there is less weight to carry during the exercise. This is in conformity with general experience under similar conditions. It is observed that the carbohydrate group, which had the greatest weight loss, also showed the greatest improvement of physical fitness scores. The purpose of the experimental phase was to study the effect of the experimental diet on various physiological functions as compared with the levels during the normal conditions in the standardization phase. The results indicate the following effect: Both in the carbohydrate group and in the meat group, there was an increase of the physical fitness scores, most pronounced in the carbohydrate group. The basal heat production was 13 per cent higher at the end of the experimental phase than during the standardization phase in the meat group, while a reduction of 7 per cent occurred in the carbohydrate group. This difference is probably due to the specific dynamic action of protein. During the experimental phase the meat group consumed 300 ml more fluid per day than the carbohydrate group. While all subjects in the meat group were in a positive nitrogen balance, the subjects in the carbohydrate group showed a negative balance of 6.3 g on an average. Ketonuria occurred in all meat subjects and in three of the carbohydrate subjects. 

During the field phase the factor of climatic stress was added to the experimental conditions, and the following results were obtained: 

No significant difference was observed in the physical performance of the subject on the meat ration, the carbohydrate ration, or on the meat-and-carbohydrate ration during the actual field phase. The physical fitness scores were improved in all three groups at the end of the field phase, and this improvement was greatest in the carbohydrate group which also had the greatest weight loss. The psychiatric evaluation revealed no distinct differences between the three groups. There was no significant deterioration in morale, but an increase in carelessness, irritability and desire to sleep which occurred in all three groups. The weight loss was 7.0 per cent in the meat group, 7.5 per cent in the carbohydrate group, and 6 per cent in the group receiving both meat and carbohydrate. There was an increase in the basal heat production of 9 per cent in the meat group and 7 per cent in the meat-carbohydrate group, while the carbohydrate group showed a reduction of 7 per cent in the BMR. The water consumption was 1500 ml in the meat group, 850 ml in the carbohydrate group, and 1200 ml in the meat-carbohydrate group. All three groups showed negative nitrogen balance, which was most pronounced in the carbohydrate group, where it was approximately 7 g, as against approximately 2 g in the meat group. Ketonuria occurred in all three groups, most pronounced in the meat group. 

On the basis of these findings, and in view of the fact that water supply, as a rule, does not present any problem in the Arctic, it may be concluded that the carbohydrate ration offered no significant advantage under conditions of arctic survival as stimulated in the present study. In terms of heat production and nitrogen balance, the high meat ration is preferable. It is evident from this study that under survival conditions, which necessitate caloric expenditure, between 2500 and 3000 calories per man per day, including travel of approximately 10 miles a day, 1000 calories per man per day is sufficient for a period of at least 10 days. 

It would therefore seem logical that survival rations developed for arctic use should consist of protein, fat, and carbohydrate in proportions which would serve to utilize the specific dynamic action of a high protein diet, the high caloric density of fat, and the physiological advantages of carbohydrates. Protein-fat rations with high caloric density such as various types of pemmican, have already been successfully used for more than half a century by arctic travellers. 

It would appear advisable to base future arctic survival rations on the principle of a high meat-fat ration as the main meal of the day prepared in the evening, and an all-carbohydrate component of the ration to be consumed in the middle of the day while on the trail. 

5. Summary and Conclusions. 

In a series of laboratory experiments followed by field experiments under strenuous arctic conditions, the physiological adequacy of low caloric arctic rations have been studied in groups of normal men under conditions which necessitate travel under various arctic conditions. The rations studied contained approximately 1000 calories per man per day and consisted of an all-carbohydrate ration and a high protein-fat ration. On the basis of the presented data it may be concluded that from a physiological standpoint the all-carbohydrate ration offered no significant advantage over the high meat ration under the conditions of the study.