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Updated: May 7, 2025
He was born at Pymeut, but his father, who is the richest and most intelligent man in his tribe, took Nicholas to Ikogimeut when the boy was only six. He was brought up in the Russian mission there, as the father had been before him, and was a Greek in religion till he was fourteen. There was a famine that year down yonder, so Nicholas turned Catholic and came up to us.
There was a great deal at stake. The Boy felt he must walk warily, and he already regretted those light expressions about dancing before the Lord. All the fun of the winter might depend on a friendly relation between Pymeut and the camp. It was essential that the Esquimaux should not only receive, but make, a good impression.
"Nicholas of Pymeut said: 'You treat a Siwash like a heathen, and he'll show you what a hell of a heathen he can be." "Oh, go to sleep." "I'm goin', Colonel." "For whatever... may come to pass, it lies with me to have it serve me." The Indians guided them back to the trail.
"Funny thing for an Agnostic," he admitted to himself, "but I'm right glad to see a Christian sign." And as he knocked at the door of the big two-story log-house on the left he defended himself. "It's the swing-back of the pendulum after a big dose of Pymeut and heathen tricks. I welcome it as a mark of the white man." He looked over his shoulder a little defiantly at the Holy Cross.
But, after all, the open-air cure was tried for his trouble in various other parts of the world why not here? There was no doubt about it, Nicholas had a capital team of dogs, and knew how to drive them. Two-legged folk often had to trot pretty briskly to keep up. Pymeut was soon out of sight. "Nicholas, what'll you take for a couple o' your dogs?" "No sell." "Pay you a good long price."
Presently, "Do you know my friend Nicholas of Pymeut?" asked the Boy. Kurilla took his empty pipe out of his mouth and smiled in broad surprise. "Nicholas!" repeated several others. It was plain the Pymeut pilot enjoyed a wide repute. The Boy spoke of the famine and Ol' Chief's illness. "It is true," said Unookuk gravely, and turning, he added something in Ingalik to the company.
They were to come "sure by Christmas Eve," and O'Flynn was in what he called "a froightful fanteeg" as the short day of the 24th wore towards night, and never a sign of the one-eyed Pymeut.
Don't you think you'd better square Yukon Inua? Don't b'lieve he likes me." And they left her, shivering in her "Holy Cross clo'es," staring after them, and sadly swinging her medal on its walrus-string. "I don't mind sayin' I'm glad to leave Pymeut behind," said the Colonel. "Same here." "You're safe to get into a muss if you mix up with anything that has to do with women.
"We've got no time to waste at Pymeut," observes the Colonel significantly. "I ain't achin' to stop at Pymeut," says his pardner with a superior air, standing up, as he swallowed his last mouthful of cold bacon and corn-bread, and cheerfully surveyed the waste. "Who says it's cold, even if the wind is up? And the track's bully.
He left the doorpost, straightened his bowed back, and laid a hand on the wooden latch. "But Nicholas when you left Pymeut was he " began the Boy. "Oh, he is all right," the Father smiled and nodded. "Brother Paul has been looking after Nicholas's father. The old chief has enough food, but he has been very ill. By the way, have you any letters you want to send out?"
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