Sishetakushin told him the
Eskimos were bad people and would never guide him safely to his
friends. Indeed, he asserted, they might kill him when they had him
alone with them. On the other hand, the Indians were kind and true.
They had recognized his worth and had adopted him into the tribe. With
them he had been happy and with them he would be safe. He could have
his own wigwam and take Manikawan for his wife; and sometimes, if he
wished, he could go to visit his people.
The failure of their arguments to impress Bob was a great
disappointment to the Indians, and Bob, on his part, felt a keen sense
of sorrow when, the following morning, he saw his benefactors go. They
had saved his life and had done all they could in their rude,
primitive way for his comfort, and he appreciated their kindness and
hospitality.
Ungava Bob, as every one at the Post called him, made himself
generally useful about the fort and was soon quite at home in his new
surroundings. He cut wood and helped the Eskimo servants feed the
dogs, and did any jobs that presented themselves and soon became a
general favourite, not only with Mr. MacPherson but with the clerks
and servants also.
His quarters with Sandy and Jamie seemed luxurious in contrast with
the rough life of the interior to which he had so long been
accustomed, and when the three gathered around the red hot stove those
cold evenings after the day's work was done and supper eaten, the
Scotchmen held him enthralled with stories they told of their native
land and the wonderful and magnificent things they had seen there.
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