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The hatred between Eskimo and Indian is so bitter that it took all White's powers of persuasion, together with certain threats, to bring Yim to the tent, but once there even he was sufficiently roused by its spectacle of suffering to bestir himself most actively.
The travel of that day, with its accompaniments of blisters and strained muscles, was much harder than that of the day before, and our weary lads were thankful when, towards its close, they entered a belt of timber that had been in sight for hours. That night they slept warmly and soundly on luxurious beds of spruce boughs beside a great fire frequently replenished by Yim.
With this outfit Yim was to conduct them over the first half of their 400-mile journey, or to Indian Harbour, where, through a letter from the missionary, they expected to procure a fresh team, renew their supply of provisions, and obtain another guide, who should go with them to Battle Harbour.
He had been terribly cut up over Cabot's disappearance on the night of the blizzard, and, with the faithful Yim, had spent days in searching for him. They had gone back to the timber, only to find the Indian camp deserted, and that its recent occupants had made a hasty departure. Finally they had given over the hopeless search and had sadly continued their southward journey.
Cabot was nearly exhausted, and even White was painfully weary, but both had been buoyed up by a hope that they might reach timber and have abundant firewood for their first camp. Now, when Yim, throwing down his whip and giving his dogs the command to halt, calmly announced that they would make camp where they were, both lads looked at him in dismay.
He received us with a smile, and when he was requested by the guide to play for us he sat down before an instrument somewhat like the American piano, called Yong Chum. The music was of a plaintive character, and was lacking in the melody of a Broadwood or a Steinway. Then he played on another instrument which resembled a bandore or banjo and was named Sem Yim.
"I think," was the reply, "that it proves itself the greatest of luxuries by punishing over-indulgence in it with the greatest amount of pain." "Umph!" remarked Yim, who was listening, "Big fire, goot. Baby fire, more goot. Innuit yamp mos' goot of any." "Oh, pshaw!" retorted Cabot, "your sooty little lamp isn't in it with a blaze like that."
From them he finally drew forth a shallow soapstone bowl having one straight side about six inches long. It was shaped something like a clam shell, and was a specimen of the world-famed Eskimo cooking lamp. He also produced a bladder full of seal oil. "Good enough!" cried Cabot. "Yim has remembered to bring along his travelling cook stove."
Yim, however, only smiled at their dismay. Of course he had long since learned the use of matches, and to appreciate them at their full value; but he also knew how to produce fire without their aid in the simplest manner ever devised by primitive man. It is the friction method of rubbing wood against wood, and, in one form or another, is used all over the world.
When they had gone about three miles, and while our lads were still talking of the suffering they had so recently witnessed, they were attracted by an exclamation from Yim, who was pointing eagerly ahead. Looking in that direction, they saw a line of dark objects, that had just topped a distant ridge, running swiftly towards them.
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