So it all turned out just as Oumauk had prophesied, Captain Perkins was intending to stop at Quebec with a portion of his catch of cod. But even if he had not been, he would gladly have gone out of his way to take them all to their destination, especially after he had heard the story of Little Oumauk and the great white bear.
"Queerest story I ever heard," he said, spitting reflectively over the rail when Mr. Adams had finished relating it. "It is almost as good as a story book and true to boot, which most books ain't."
So finally the Three Bells touched at Quebec, that Canadian city so famous in history, and the twelve passengers from the expedition, and Eiseeyou and Oumauk, not to mention the White Czar, were all safely landed. Then after much handshaking on the part of Captain Perkins and very cordial invitations to one and all to call on him at Marble Head, The Three Bells went on her way.
A great dray soon appeared and the large cage containing the White Czar was loaded upon it, while the white men with Eiseeyou and Oumauk went to their destination in a taxi.
To Eiseeyou the great city was like fairyland, and he and Oumauk were destined to have many wonderful and wondering days exploring it.
Mr. Adams at once took them to the great doctor whose address had been given them by the missionary. He received them graciously and was much interested in the small boy from the Arctic, once Mr. Adams had told his story. After examining Oumauk's eyes carefully, the doctor advised that he go to the hospital, which he said was a fine place where they would make Oumauk's eyes as good as new. But he said it would take time.
So Eiseeyou and Oumauk, accompanied by Mr. Adams went to the hospital. This first day Eiseeyou was too much amazed at the wonders of the city to describe them to Oumauk, but later on he made up for all this remissness.
Arrived at the hospital, Oumauk had to say goodbye to Eiseeyou for that day, but the father promised to see him again on the morrow. They also comforted Oumauk by telling him that he could go out each day with his father and explore the city. They simply wanted him for treatment and he was free to come and go during certain hours, but he must sleep and eat at the hospital.
Although Oumauk was rather frightened at being left alone, yet he was much comforted with this arrangement, and finally became very philosophical, as is the way with his race.
They first stripped the Eskimo boy and took his clothes all away from him. He thought this a great hardship as the garments were his very best furs, although he did find them rather warm in this strange new country. They then put the wondering boy in a bath tub and gave him a good scrubbing. This was to get rid of the body lice, but they told him it was to make him ready to get his sight. They then put him in a clean, wonderful bed, which seemed to him like fairyland, although he had gotten used to the bunks in the two ships on which he had travelled.
But everything about him was strange these days, so he was not much amazed at anything.
The nurse had to show him how to put on his nightdress, which was quite different from his auk-skin shirt. She also had to tell him how to get into bed and cover himself up with the clothes.
Finally the lights were all put out and little Oumauk, the child of the snow, was sleeping peacefully in the land of the white man.
Meanwhile his friend, whom he always called Whitie, even up to the very last time that he saw him just as he had when he had been a fuzzy cub, was also experiencing changes. He was driven away to the very heart of the city where a man who knew all about bears, or at least thought he did, came and inspected him. He was delighted with the huge, white beast and set to work at once to make a den for him. This was completed in two or three days, so when Eiseeyou and Oumauk finally visited the park where they were told that their friend was to live, they found him in fine quarters. That is, the men who had built them thought them fine. Whether the White Czar thought them fine or not, who shall say? But I am inclined to think that he simply made the best of them and bided his time, just as do most wild animals which are captured when full grown and taken into captivity.
His den was made in the side of a hill. The foundation was concrete. The entire den was twenty-five feet by twelve. The den was equally divided between a swimming pool and a platform of rocks, upon which the Czar could stretch himself when he was tired of the water.
He at once recognized Eiseeyou and Oumauk, and came out of the pool to greet the boy. The keeper of the park was amazed to see the small, dark boy stick his fingers through the bars to the great brute. He cried out for him to stop. But Eiseeyou told him in his quaint English that they were old friends.
Finally the keeper himself became convinced that Oumauk was master of the situation and he was persuaded to open the small door where the bear's food was pushed in to him, in order that Oumauk might pet Whitie more freely.
A curious crowd of white children had gathered about the outer fence of the cage to view, with awe in their hearts and their eyes, this strange scene of the small boy fondling the great head of the white bear as fearlessly as he would have a large dog. The keeper took special pains to explain to them that the bear had been the boy's pet when he was small, and so knew him. But he warned all the white children to keep well away from the den.
So each day Eiseeyou came to the hospital to visit Oumauk.
Later on the two went to the park to see the White Czar. This was always the first place that they visited.
After that Oumauk was willing that they should see other things of interest, but he never neglected Whitie.
"Whitie and I are both of us prisoners," he said sadly one day when he was stroking the shaggy head of the Czar. "Whitie is a prisoner in his great cage and I am a prisoner in the dark."
"He don't like the cage and I don't like the dark. I hope some day we will both be free."
"When the doctor makes the light come again in the sun so I can see, I want to come here the very first thing and see Whitie. Then we must sell everything we have, and we will buy Whitie and go back to Eskimo Land. That is where we all belong."
Eiseeyou bit his lip and looked troubled, but he thought the same as Oumauk did. Eskimo Land was their home. They were out of place in the great city of the white man. Every one had been good to them, but they were out of place.
Thus three weeks went by. Each day Eiseeyou went to the hospital to get Oumauk, after this the two went to the park to see the White Czar, and then about the city sight-seeing. They visited the parks, the museum, and even went into several theaters where Eiseeyou was much amazed by the strange pictures. He was most impressed when he saw a film of Eskimo Land, perhaps not his own particular country, but other arctic country. The fur-clad people, the dog teams and the komatiks, the seals, the walrus and the igloos were all there. How the white men could have gotten it so faithfully was a mystery to him. Then the automobiles, those strange machines that seemed almost to run themselves, amazed him, as did the telephone and the phonograph, both of which he saw men using. The phonograph he deemed a machine bewitched, full of devils, and he always crossed himself and hurried little Oumauk away whenever he heard one playing in a store.
The hand organ seemed more harmless, and he and Oumauk liked to listen to it, Eiseeyou was also much amused by the monkey who held out his cap for small coins.
Whenever the two went abroad, they were usually followed by curious children, who were much interested in Oumauk. They seemed friendly, and often gave the Eskimo boy candy or fruit, neither of which he had ever tasted before.
Finally the crucial day in both their lives came around. It was the day when little Oumauk was to go under the knife in an attempt of the great doctor to bring back the light in the sun and the stone lamp. Eiseeyou was allowed to be with them in the operating room. He sat by the bedside, holding Oumauk's hand all through the operation.
Before the operation several doctors made a thorough examination of Oumauk's eyes, and then talked for a time about the case. Finally the surgeon came along and, patting the Eskimo boy on the cheek, told him they were ready.
A rubber blanket was put under his head and shoulders, and one doctor stood with a basin of water and sponges to wash away the blood. First they put a strange instrument with six claws upon Oumauk's eye. Each one of these six claws gripped the eye between the muscle and kept it from moving during the operation. Then a local anesthetic was administered, and the operation began.
Although the surgeon worked as carefully as he could, yet it hurt poor Oumauk severely and great tears streamed down his swarthy cheeks. Yet he did not even whimper. His own hard life in the rigorous north, where men and even small children endure hardship without complaining, stood him in good stead. When the right eye had been operated upon, the left eye was treated in the same manner.
The doctors were generous in their praise of Oumauk's pluck and this helped a little. When the operation was over, Oumauk asked if he might open his eyes and see if the light had come back to the sun. He was much troubled when they told him that he must wait several days before the bandages could be removed.
This disappointment was so great that he did cry a little. But they all told him that crying would hurt his chance of again seeing the sun, so he soon stopped.
After that whenever he and Eiseeyou went forth, Oumauk had to keep the bandage on his eyes, and it was darker than ever.
It seemed to Oumauk and Eiseeyou that the day when they would take off the bandage would never come. But the clocks kept ticking steadily on, and the hours going by, so at last the day arrived.
Oumauk himself was so excited that he shook like a leaf when the doctors came into his ward. He had waited so patiently. The long night had been so very long. He had groped about in the dark, it seemed to him, for the whole of his life. At last the doctor gently removed the bandage and told Oumauk that he might open his eyes.
"Oh, oh," cried Oumauk as his eyelids flew open, "I can see, I can see, but not as I used to. Only a part of the light has come back to the sun."
"That is all right, my boy. That is fine," cried the doctor, clapping him on the shoulder. "I did not expect you would see very much without glasses. You will always have to wear glasses."
Then he brought out some strange shiny things which went over Oumauk's nose and behind his ears, and tried several glasses of differing strength in them. Finally he found the right one and Oumauk could see almost perfectly.
"That is fine. The operation is a great success," said the doctor. "It is only a question of time when he will be all right."
The doctor rigged a shade for Oumauk's eyes, to wear above the glasses. He advised him to keep out of the strong sun light for several days and to get used to it gradually, and Eiseeyou promised to look out for him.
Oumauk was all excitement to go and see Whitie at once, but the doctor told them to wait until the morrow then to go towards dusk when the sunlight was not so trying, so the Eskimo boy had to possess his soul with patience till the morrow.
Eiseeyou confided to his son as they walked towards the park the good news that the doctor had given his services for the operation free; and that had cost them nothing. The charge at the hospital was only going to be slight, so they had quite a sum of money left.
"Oh, good," cried Oumauk. "I feel so happy. Everything is coming out all right. We will have almost enough money to buy Whitie. Perhaps we can pay what we have and they will let us earn the rest and send it to them. Maybe we can take Whitie back with us."
But Eiseeyou himself had many misgivings about the matter, although he did not confide them to his son. He simply grunted and smiled and said nothing.
Arrived at the park, they made their way hurriedly to the White Czar's den, where they found that a large crowd of men, women, and children were gathered around the den. All were talking and much excited, especially the children with whom the White Czar had become a great favorite. Eiseeyou could not tell what they were saying, so he worked his way close up to the bear's den.
To his great astonishment, he found the door of the den open and the White Czar gone. Oumauk was almost as quick to perceive what had happened as he.
At the sight, a cry of pain escaped Oumauk. He put his hand to his glasses and rubbed them to make sure. Then he turned eagerly to his father.
"Oh, oh," he cried, "is Whitie really gone?"
"Yes," returned Eiseeyou. "He seems to be. Perhaps they have put him in another den."
"No," said the superintendent of the park, who happened to be standing near. He had made the acquaintance of Eiseeyou and his son one day by the cage and learned from them much of the bear's history, so was interested in them.
"No, we have not put him in another den. He is gone, and I guess for good. We found the door open this morning just as you see it now, and the White Czar had disappeared.
"We have searched all day for him in the city, but he has disappeared as though the earth had opened and swallowed him. There has been foul play. He was let out, and I know who did it too. I doubt very much if we ever see him again alive. He will turn up in the province of Quebec sooner or later, then there will be a great bear hunt and he will be shot."
Then seeing the terrified look upon Oumauk's face he hurried to add, "Perhaps he will escape though. He was a clever bear. They will often make their way through thickly settled country without being seen. The province of Quebec is not very thickly settled to the north. Perhaps he will escape."
"I know he will," said Eiseeyou, more to console Oumauk than because he really believed so. Like the superintendent of the park, he also believed that the White Czar would fall before some rifle bullet before he had travelled far in this strange country, even if he had gotten safely out of the city.
"It is strange," said the superintendent, patting Oumauk on the shoulder, "that no one saw him here in the city. But it is only a short distance to the river, down three streets and then along the broad street leading to the docks. Perhaps he found the short cut."
"They are very clever," said Eiseeyou. "I guess he has escaped." Then to Oumauk he said, "I know we will find him in Eskimo Land when we get home. Come, let's go."