The Story of Keesh is
about a man who "exercised headcraft and not witchcraft, and rose
from the meanest IGLOO to be head man of his village." London's
story was published in 1907.
An illustration for the story The Story of Keesh by the author
Jack London
Frank Nowell, A-Pa-Look, Cape Douglas, 1905
KEESH lived long ago on the rim of the polar sea, was head man
of his village through many and prosperous years, and died full of
honors with his name on the lips of men. So long ago did he live
that only the old men remember his name, his name and the tale,
which they got from the old men before them, and which the old men
to come will tell to their children and their children's children
down to the end of time. And the winter darkness, when the north
gales make their long sweep across the ice-pack, and the air is
filled with flying white, and no man may venture forth, is the
chosen time for the telling of how Keesh, from the poorest IGLOO in
the village, rose to power and place over them all.
He was a bright boy, so the tale runs, healthy and strong, and
he had seen thirteen suns, in their way of reckoning time. For each
winter the sun leaves the land in darkness, and the next year a new
sun returns so that they may be warm again and look upon one
another's faces. The father of Keesh had been a very brave man, but
he had met his death in a time of famine, when he sought to save
the lives of his people by taking the life of a great polar bear.
In his eagerness he came to close grapples with the bear, and his
bones were crushed; but the bear had much meat on him and the
people were saved. Keesh was his only son, and after that Keesh
lived alone with his mother. But the people are prone to forget,
and they forgot the deed of his father; and he being but a boy, and
his mother only a woman, they, too, were swiftly forgotten, and ere
long came to live in the meanest of all the IGLOOS.
It was at a council, one night, in the big IGLOO of
Klosh-Kwan, the chief, that Keesh showed the blood that ran in his
veins and the manhood that stiffened his back. With the dignity of
an elder, he rose to his feet, and waited for silence amid the
babble of voices.
"It is true that meat be apportioned me and mine," he said.
"But it is ofttimes old and tough, this meat, and, moreover, it has
an unusual quantity of bones."
The hunters, grizzled and gray, and lusty and young, were
aghast. The like had never been known before. A child, that talked
like a grown man, and said harsh things to their very faces!
But steadily and with seriousness, Keesh went on. "For that I
know my father, Bok, was a great hunter, I speak these words. It is
said that Bok brought home more meat than any of the two best
hunters, that with his own hands he attended to the division of it,
that with his own eyes he saw to it that the least old woman and
the last old man received fair share."
"Na! Na!" the men cried. "Put the child out!" "Send him off to
bed!" "He is no man that he should talk to men and
graybeards!"
He waited calmly till the uproar died down.
"Thou hast a wife, Ugh-Gluk," he said, "and for her dost thou
speak. And thou, too, Massuk, a mother also, and for them dost thou
speak. My mother has no one, save me; wherefore I speak. As I say,
though Bok be dead because he hunted over-keenly, it is just that
I, who am his son, and that Ikeega, who is my mother and was his
wife, should have meat in plenty so long as there be meat in plenty
in the tribe. I, Keesh, the son of Bok, have spoken."
He sat down, his ears keenly alert to the flood of protest and
indignation his words had created.
"That a boy should speak in council!" old Ugh-Gluk was
mumbling.
"Shall the babes in arms tell us men the things we shall do?"
Massuk demanded in a loud voice. "Am I a man that I should be made
a mock by every child that cries for meat?"
The anger boiled a white heat. They ordered him to bed,
threatened that he should have no meat at all, and promised him
sore beatings for his presumption. Keesh's eyes began to flash, and
the blood to pound darkly under his skin. In the midst of the abuse
he sprang to his feet.
"Hear me, ye men!" he cried. "Never shall I speak in the
council again, never again till the men come to me and say, 'It is
well, Keesh, that thou shouldst speak, it is well and it is our
wish.' Take this now, ye men, for my last word. Bok, my father, was
a great hunter. I, too, his son, shall go and hunt the meat that I
eat. And be it known, now, that the division of that which I kill
shall be fair. And no widow nor weak one shall cry in the night
because there is no meat, when the strong men are groaning in great
pain for that they have eaten overmuch. And in the days to come
there shall be shame upon the strong men who have eaten overmuch.
I, Keesh, have said it!"
Jeers and scornful laughter followed him out of the IGLOO, but
his jaw was set and he went his way, looking neither to right nor
left.
The next day he went forth along the shore-line where the ice
and the land met together. Those who saw him go noted that he
carried his bow, with a goodly supply of bone-barbed arrows, and
that across his shoulder was his father's big hunting-spear. And
there was laughter, and much talk, at the event. It was an
unprecedented occurrence. Never did boys of his tender age go forth
to hunt, much less to hunt alone. Also were there shaking of heads
and prophetic mutterings, and the women looked pityingly at Ikeega,
and her face was grave and sad.
"He will be back ere long," they said cheeringly.
"Let him go; it will teach him a lesson," the hunters said.
"And he will come back shortly, and he will be meek and soft of
speech in the days to follow."
But a day passed, and a second, and on the third a wild gale
blew, and there was no Keesh. Ikeega tore her hair and put soot of
the seal-oil on her face in token of her grief; and the women
assailed the men with bitter words in that they had mistreated the
boy and sent him to his death; and the men made no answer,
preparing to go in search of the body when the storm abated.
Early next morning, however, Keesh strode into the village.
But he came not shamefacedly. Across his shoulders he bore a burden
of fresh-killed meat. And there was importance in his step and
arrogance in his speech.
"Go, ye men, with the dogs and sledges, and take my trail for
the better part of a day's travel," he said. "There is much meat on
the ice - a she-bear and two half-grown cubs."
Ikeega was overcome with joy, but he received her
demonstrations in manlike fashion, saying: "Come, Ikeega, let us
eat. And after that I shall sleep, for I am weary."
And he passed into their IGLOO and ate profoundly, and after
that slept for twenty running hours.
There was much doubt at first, much doubt and discussion. The
killing of a polar bear is very dangerous, but thrice dangerous is
it, and three times thrice, to kill a mother bear with her cubs.
The men could not bring themselves to believe that the boy Keesh,
single-handed, had accomplished so great a marvel. But the women
spoke of the fresh-killed meat he had brought on his back, and this
was an overwhelming argument against their unbelief. So they
finally departed, grumbling greatly that in all probability, if the
thing were so, he had neglected to cut up the carcasses. Now in the
north it is very necessary that this should be done as soon as a
kill is made. If not, the meat freezes so solidly as to turn the
edge of the sharpest knife, and a three-hundred-pound bear, frozen
stiff, is no easy thing to put upon a sled and haul over the rough
ice. But arrived at the spot, they found not only the kill, which
they had doubted, but that Keesh had quartered the beasts in true
hunter fashion, and removed the entrails.
Thus began the mystery of Keesh, a mystery that deepened and
deepened with the passing of the days. His very next trip he killed
a young bear, nearly full-grown, and on the trip following, a large
male bear and his mate. He was ordinarily gone from three to four
days, though it was nothing unusual for him to stay away a week at
a time on the ice-field. Always he declined company on these
expeditions, and the people marvelled. "How does he do it?" they
demanded of one another. "Never does he take a dog with him, and
dogs are of such great help, too."
"Why dost thou hunt only bear?" Klosh-Kwan once ventured to
ask him.
And Keesh made fitting answer. "It is well known that there is
more meat on the bear," he said.
But there was also talk of witchcraft in the village. "He
hunts with evil spirits," some of the people contended, "wherefore
his hunting is rewarded. How else can it be, save that he hunts
with evil spirits?"
"Mayhap they be not evil, but good, these spirits," others
said. "It is known that his father was a mighty hunter. May not his
father hunt with him so that he may attain excellence and patience
and understanding? Who knows?"
None the less, his success continued, and the less skilful
hunters were often kept busy hauling in his meat. And in the
division of it he was just. As his father had done before him, he
saw to it that the least old woman and the last old man received a
fair portion, keeping no more for himself than his needs required.
And because of this, and of his merit as a hunter, he was looked
upon with respect, and even awe; and there was talk of making him
chief after old Klosh-Kwan. Because of the things he had done, they
looked for him to appear again in the council, but he never came,
and they were ashamed to ask.
"I am minded to build me an IGLOO," he said one day to
Klosh-Kwan and a number of the hunters. "It shall be a large IGLOO,
wherein Ikeega and I can dwell in comfort."
"Ay," they nodded gravely.
"But I have no time. My business is hunting, and it takes all
my time. So it is but just that the men and women of the village
who eat my meat should build me my IGLOO."
And the IGLOO was built accordingly, on a generous scale which
exceeded even the dwelling of Klosh-Kwan. Keesh and his mother
moved into it, and it was the first prosperity she had enjoyed
since the death of Bok. Nor was material prosperity alone hers,
for, because of her wonderful son and the position he had given
her, she came to he looked upon as the first woman in all the
village; and the women were given to visiting her, to asking her
advice, and to quoting her wisdom when arguments arose among
themselves or with the men.
But it was the mystery of Keesh's marvellous hunting that took
chief place in all their minds. And one day Ugh-Gluk taxed him with
witchcraft to his face.
"It is charged," Ugh-Gluk said ominously, "that thou dealest
with evil spirits, wherefore thy hunting is rewarded."
"Is not the meat good?" Keesh made answer. "Has one in the
village yet to fall sick from the eating of it? How dost thou know
that witchcraft be concerned? Or dost thou guess, in the dark,
merely because of the envy that consumes thee?"
And Ugh-Gluk withdrew discomfited, the women laughing at him
as he walked away. But in the council one night, after long
deliberation, it was determined to put spies on his track when he
went forth to hunt, so that his methods might be learned. So, on
his next trip, Bim and Bawn, two young men, and of hunters the
craftiest, followed after him, taking care not to be seen. After
five days they returned, their eyes bulging and their tongues a-
tremble to tell what they had seen. The council was hastily called
in Klosh-Kwan's dwelling, and Bim took up the tale.