Pomiuk, in spite of his suffering, kept his spirits. He loved to wield
his long dog whip. It was his pride. Visitors at the fair pitched
nickles and dimes into the enclosure where the Eskimos and their
exhibits were kept. Pomiuk with the tip of his thirty-five foot lash
would clip the coins, and laugh with delight, for every coin he
clipped was to be his. He was the life of the Eskimo exhibit. Visitors
could always distinguish his ringing laugh. He was always smiling.
The white men who had induced the Eskimos to leave their homes failed
to keep their promise when the fair closed. The poor Eskimos were
abandoned in a practically penniless condition and no means was
provided to return them to their homes. To add to the distress of
Pomiuk's mother, Pomiuk fell and injured his hip. Proper surgical
treatment was not supplied, the injury, because of this neglect, did
not heal, and Pomiuk could no longer run about or walk or even stand
upon his feet.
Those of the Eskimos who survived the heat and unaccustomed climate,
in some manner, God alone knows how, found their way to Newfoundland.
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