Eiseeyou and Oumauk stood on the slippery sides of Omingmong Mountain, as the Eskimos called that dark sinister mountain on which Eiseeyou, Tunkine, and Tucksu had made their famous kill of musk ox.
Eiseeyou had promised his son that he would take him to the spot and show him where he had killed the first White Czar, the sire of Whitie, as Oumauk still called his own particular white bear.
They were in the very heart of the frozen snowclad windswept tundra. That frozen desolate belt that stretches entirely around the globe, between the timber line and the arctic ice. A region where only reindeer moss and creeping willows flourish perennially, and where the caribou, the reindeer, and the musk ox alone thrive, although certain foxes and also the dread white wolf eke out a scant living in this desolate region.
Eiseeyou and Oumauk stood by the very boulder where the former had killed the first White Czar in the desperate encounter that so nearly cost him his own life.
He was describing with all of a boy's ardor just how he had rounded the boulder and come upon the monster. He then told of how he had fired quickly and merely wounded the great bear in the head. This had so enraged the Czar that he had struck the rifle from his hand, and then the two had clenched. Eiseeyou dwelt with special relish on the awful moment when the mighty fighter had slowly crushed him in his deadly embrace, and then told of how he had sunk his knife into the monster's heart. He did not fail to point out his cleverness in digging under the dead bear to protect himself from the deadly cold of the winter's night.
To all of this Oumauk listened with wide open eyes, and with his mouth agape in wonder, all of which pleased his father.
Two years had now elapsed since Eiseeyou and Oumauk had returned to Eskimo Land after their eventful visit to the great city. Oumauk had grown to a stalwart lad of eleven years. He was tall and muscular for a boy of that age, and was destined to be a mighty hunter like his father. In the hollow of his arm he easily carried a small rifle as he stood erect and alert, listening to the story of this adventure.
"I do wish I could see Whitie again, and know he was all right," said Oumauk, with a deep sigh when the tale had been concluded. The desire to see Whitie once more was almost an obsession with the lad. Although so much time had elapsed, and although Eiseeyou had told him again and again that the White Czar had probably fallen before some rifle bullet in the Canadian wilderness, yet Oumauk never gave up hope. He was always watching and waiting for one more glimpse of Whitie.
"Well, perhaps you will," said Eiseeyou. Secretly he did not expect it, but for once he would humor Oumauk's great desire.
The two stood looking over the place of the deadly encounter for several minutes in silence, then Eiseeyou turned and gazed across the tundra towards the frozen Arctic Ocean which he knew was about ten miles to the East. As he gazed, his expression became fixed, and his keen eyes seemed to take on an even more penetrating expression. Finally he shaded his face with his hand and his expression became even more intent.
Oumauk, who had noted his absorption, also gazed far across the frozen tundra. But his eyesight was not as good as his father's, so he could make out nothing. At last Eiseeyou spoke.
"There is something out there that I can't make out. It is white like the snow, but it moves. It is coming this way. Take the glass and see if you can make it out." He handed Oumauk the small field glass which he always carried.
The boy took the glass excitedly and placed it to his eyes, first removing his glasses which he still had to wear. For a long time he gazed eagerly, but was silent.
At last he dropped the glasses in the snow in his excitement and fairly shouted. "It's Whitie, it's Whitie! He is coming to the mountain."
Eiseeyou smiled at him indulgently. "Yes," he said. "I see that is a white bear, but what makes you think it is Whitie? All white bears are Whitie to you."
"Oh no," cried Oumauk, fairly dancing up and down in his delight.
"It is Whitie. I can tell his trot and I know his face.
"No other white bear looks like Whitie. I know it is him.
"I am going down to meet him."
"Stop," cried Eiseeyou sternly. "You do not know that it is Whitie and even if it was, you could not get near him after this long time. Besides if you did, he would probably bite your head off."
Oumauk looked reproachfully at his father.
"Whitie not know me? Whitie bite me? You wait and see."
"You must not go Oumauk," said Eiseeyou again, but Oumauk paid no attention to his sire. Instead he stood his rifle up against the boulder and tightened his belt just as his father had done upon that momentous occasion several years before when he had slid down the mountain side to save the dead musk ox from the wolfish sledge dogs.
Secretly Eiseeyou was much pleased with this venturesome spirit of Oumauk's, but he still remonstrated feebly.
"Well," he said, "if you must go, be careful. I will keep him covered with my rifle so I can shoot if he attacks you. Look out and do not get to sliding too fast."
But Oumauk did not hear this last admonition, for he was sliding rapidly down the slippery slope.
In a few seconds he stood up at the bottom of the mountain and waved his hand to his father and Eiseeyou waved back.
Then the watching Eskimo on the mountainside was treated to the most amazing sight that he had ever witnessed, although he was widely versed in the ways of the wild.
The great bear by this time was about two hundred yards from the foot of the mountain. As the bear's eyesight is rather poor, he probably had not seen Oumauk.
Although he was entirely unarmed, with the exception of the hunting knife in his belt, yet the boy began walking rapidly towards the great beast, occasionally stopping to whistle shrilly by blowing between his fingers. This was the way he had called Whitie when he was a cub.
At the first sound of the whistle, the great, shaggy beast stopped to look and listen. He had heard, but could not locate the sound.
Then Oumauk whistled again and followed up that experiment by giving a loud hoo, hoo, hoo, the cry which the Eskimo uses to his dog team. This had also been one of the calls that he had used with Whitie when he had been a cub.
For several seconds the White Czar stood perfectly still, during which time Eiseeyou covered him with his rifle. Oumauk, chancing to look back at his father, saw that the rifle was raised and hastily moved over a few paces to the left in order to bring his own body directly in range.
Eiseeyou saw the movement and lowered his rifle. The nerve of the lad pleased him greatly and he did not raise the gun again, although his heart fairly stood in his mouth at what he saw.
Once more Oumauk whistled, then the clear, ringing voice of the boy floated up to Eiseeyou.
"Whitie, Whitie, come it is Oumauk. He used to feed you the seal pup. He used to feed you nik-suk. He used to feed you the walrus, I-wok. He is your friend. You know Oumauk, Whitie, Whitie, come. Hoo, hoo, hoo."
Then the great bear seemed to make up his mind and he trotted slowly forward until he was about fifty feet from the boy. Here he again stopped uncertain. Once more the clear voice of the boy floated up to Eiseeyou.
"Whitie, Whitie come. It is Oumauk, Oumauk your friend.
Then the White Czar, magnificent in all his seven hundred pounds, trotted up until he could smell the outstretched hand of Oumauk.
But the boy himself made no move. He just stood still and waited for his huge friend to make the advances.
Twice the White Czar walked slowly about him and finally even sniffed his leather pants. Still Oumauk made no move on his part.
Finally the great beast walked slowly by him twice, rubbing his sides against the boy's body as he moved, first on one side and then on the other. Then he turned and walked slowly away for a few yards. There he stood looking back over his shoulder at the boy.
"Whitie, Whitie," cried the boy, "stay with Oumauk. Oumauk wants you Whitie. Stay with Oumauk."
The bear seemed to listen intently as though he sought to catch the meaning in the sounds. Then he turned his head towards the frozen Arctic Ocean and trotted silently away. Several times he stopped to look back, but each time the stop was shorter than the last.
Smaller and smaller he grew, and whiter and whiter against the snow. The blue shadows of the coming night were fast falling.
The sun had shown only an hour that day and they had seen the White Czar at full noonday. Finally even the keen sight of Eiseeyou could no longer discern the white vibrating object far across the fading snow, so he put up the glass and looked for Oumauk.
He was climbing laboriously back up the mountainside.
"Wait, I will come down," cried Eiseeyou. "There is nothing more to see up here." So he slid down the mountain, and a few seconds later stood by the side of the excited boy.
"Did you see Whitie? Did you see him good? Did you see what a mountain he is? He looks as large as a bull walrus."
"Yes," said Eiseeyou with a strange thrill in his voice. "I saw all I wanted to of him. It made me much afraid. My blood was as cold as snow water. My heart was like ice. Here is your rifle Oumauk. We must start for the komatiks and the dog teams. Tunkine and Tucksu will be wondering if we are lost."
For many minutes they trudged over the snow in silence. Then Oumauk spoke, "Will Whitie ever come back? Shall I ever see him again?
"I thought he seemed to be saying goodbye. That is what the white men say. I thought Whitie was saying it."
Eiseeyou patted the boy's shoulder and looked lovingly down at him.
"I was just thinking that myself," he said. "Yes, I am certain.
"The God of the wild creatures has called The White Czar and he has answered the call. It is well. His place is on the icefloe among the seal and the walrus. You must not wish him back.
"The winds and the snow and the cold have called him.
"They are what the white man calls Nature, and when they call the animals obey. Even man has to obey her voice. Yes, the winds the cold and the snow have called him, and he has answered. It is well."
The end