Oumauk himself was so excited that he shook like a leaf when the doctors came into his ward. He had waited so patiently. The long night had been so very long. He had groped about in the dark, it seemed to him, for the whole of his life. At last the doctor gently removed the bandage and told Oumauk that he might open his eyes.
"Oh, oh," cried Oumauk as his eyelids flew open, "I can see, I can see, but not as I used to. Only a part of the light has come back to the sun."
"That is all right, my boy. That is fine," cried the doctor, clapping him on the shoulder. "I did not expect you would see very much without glasses. You will always have to wear glasses."
Then he brought out some strange shiny things which went over Oumauk's nose and behind his ears, and tried several glasses of differing strength in them. Finally he found the right one and Oumauk could see almost perfectly.
"That is fine. The operation is a great success," said the doctor. "It is only a question of time when he will be all right."
The doctor rigged a shade for Oumauk's eyes, to wear above the glasses. He advised him to keep out of the strong sun light for several days and to get used to it gradually, and Eiseeyou promised to look out for him.
Oumauk was all excitement to go and see Whitie at once, but the doctor told them to wait until the morrow then to go towards dusk when the sunlight was not so trying, so the Eskimo boy had to possess his soul with patience till the morrow.
Eiseeyou confided to his son as they walked towards the park the good news that the doctor had given his services for the operation free; and that had cost them nothing. The charge at the hospital was only going to be slight, so they had quite a sum of money left.