Pomiuk, in his mother's care, was among them. The hospitality of big
hearted fishermen of Newfoundland, who sheltered and fed the Eskimos
in their cabins, kept them through the winter. It was a period of
intense suffering for poor little Pomiuk, whose hip constantly grew
worse.
When summer came again, Doctor Frederick Cook, the explorer, bound to
the Arctic on an exploring expedition, heard of the stranded Eskimos,
and carried some of them to their Labrador homes on his ship; and when
the schooners of the great fishing fleets sailed north, kindly
skippers made room aboard their little craft for others of the
destitute Eskimos. Thus Pomiuk, once so active and happy, now a
helpless cripple, found his way back on a fishing schooner to
Labrador.
We can understand, perhaps, the joy and hope with which Pomiuk looked
again upon the rock-bound coast that he loved so well. On _these_
shores he had lived care-free and happy and full of bounding health
until the deceitful white men had lured him away. He had no doubt that
once again in his own native land and among his own people in old
familiar surroundings, he would soon get well and be as strong as ever
he had been to run over the rocks and to help his father with the dogs
and traps and at the fishing.
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