of his
clothing, and at Quesnel he became determined to strip himself. "I
cannot stand this heat," he said; "why, it will kill me."

"Heat? Kill you?" exclaimed his two companions. "Why, the thermometer is
scarcely above the freezing point. If this moderate climate makes you
uncomfortable, what will be your condition in California? Why, you will
melt away like a candle beside a red-hot stove." And thus they joked
with him, not taking him seriously. So they sailed along and in due time
reached Ashcroft. The Eskimo perspired to such an extent that his
condition threatened to become dangerous. The slightest covering of
clothing became a burden to him, and it was only with the greatest
difficulty that his companions could prevent him from stripping himself
naked. They persuaded him that he should return before it was too late,
but he would not hear of it. "I have made my nest; I will sit in it to
the bitter end," he said. They boarded the midnight train, and in a few
moments he was fleeing to the sunny south a great deal faster than ever
dog team or sledge had taken him across the frozen plateau. And the
farther south he went the more he suffered from the heat, until he was
in great danger of melting away. And then the truth dawned upon him; it
had never occurred to him before. He was a fish trying to live out of
water. He discovered that what his mind had pictured, and his heart had
longed for, his constitution could not endure. He was doomed to live and
die in the frozen north. Oh, those savage, unprogressive, half-animal
ancestors! And for the first time he thought of his igloo, his dog
teams, the polar bear, and the little woman who had pleaded with him to
remain; and he saw her standing as he had left her with outstretched
arms, while her very heart tissue was being torn asunder. "Oh, for the
ice and snow and the long, dark night," he exclaimed; "anything but this
awful heat." When they reached San Francisco he was almost insane, and
his condition became critical; and, as if to punish him for his folly,
the heat became intense for a few days. They rushed him to the sea
shore and he plunged into the water, and refused to come out again.
Those were the most congenial surroundings he had found since he left
the frozen north. He was in such misery that he did not have time to
enjoy the wonders of civilization which he had risked so much to see.
Thus does distance lend enchantment to the view. This was an instance of
how a