As daylight began to shine more clearly in the interior of the barabbara, John, who was standing the last watch, suddenly reached out an arm and wakened his companion. “Listen!” he whispered. “I hear something outside.”
As they all sat up on the blankets they were surprised to see their prisoner also waken and lift himself half on his elbow. He, too, seemed to be listening eagerly and to feel some sort of alarm.
“Some one is coming!” said Rob. Now, indeed, there was no doubt. They heard shuffling foot-falls and many voices in some confused speech which they could not understand.
“I’m afraid!” said Jesse. “They’re not white people.”
Rob raised a warning hand that they should all be silent. At last a loud voice called out to them in broken English:
“White mans there! You come out! Me good mans! All good mans!”
The faces of all inside the hut were now very serious, for they did not know what might be the nature of these visitors, and there was no window or crack through which they could peer. Jimmy made no motion to go out of the door, but, on the contrary, was trying to hide behind the pile of fox-traps under the low eaves.
“One thing is certain,” said Rob, with determination: “we’re trapped in here, and can’t get out without their seeing us, whoever they are. So come on and let’s go out and face them. Are you ready now?”
The others, silent and anxious, crawled close behind him as he pushed open the door and sprang out, rifle in hand.
They found themselves surrounded by nearly a score of natives—short, squat fellows with wild, black hair, most of them in half-civilized garments. They bore all sorts of weapons, some of them having rifles, others short harpoons, and bows and arrows. A large, dark-faced native seemed to be their leader, and seeing the boys now ready to defend themselves, he shifted his gun to his left hand and held out his right with a smile, continuing his broken English.
HE SHIFTED HIS GUN TO HIS LEFT HAND AND HELD OUT HIS RIGHT WITH A SMILEHE SHIFTED HIS GUN TO HIS LEFT HAND AND HELD OUT HIS RIGHT WITH A SMILE
“Good mans me,” he said. “You good mans. Plenty fliend, all light, all light, all light!”
He continued to repeat these last words as though they would serve for the rest of the conversation. Rob, willing enough to accept his assurance of friendship, shook him by the hand, all the time, however, keeping his eyes open for the wild-looking group around him.
“Come dat ways, bidarka!” said the chief, pointing to the beach beyond the sea-wall. “Hunt bad mans. You see-um bad mans? Him steal.”
John touched Rob quietly on the arm and whispered to him: “He means Jimmy,” he said. “They are after him, and he knows it. That’s why he wouldn’t come out.”
“You see-um bad mans?” asked the chief, eagerly. “Him there?” He pointed at the door of the barabbara, and would have stepped over to look in. Rob moved in front of him.
“No!” he said. “All good mans here. What you want?”
“No want-um white mans,” answered the chief. “Village over dar.” He pointed across the mountains.
Rob guessed that these natives had therefore followed around the coast-line from their town,although he was not yet clear as to their purpose in coming hither.
“You got-um bad mans here,” said the chief, sternly, at last. “See-um boat dar.” He pointed to the bidarka at the edge of the lagoon.
“What you do with bad mans?” asked Rob.
“Plenty shoot-um!” answered the chief, sternly, slapping the stock of his gun. “Him steal! Him steal dis! Steal-umnogock! All time my peoples no get-um whale. Him steal-umnogock!”
Rob was puzzled.
“Now what in the world do you suppose he means?” asked he of John. “And what is that thing he’s got?”
The chief was holding up a strange-looking object in his hand—a short, dark-colored, tapering stick, with hand-holes and finger-grips cut into the lower end, and with a long groove running toward the small end, which was finished with an ivory tip.
“I saw that thing in the boat,” said John. “That must be what he means bynogock. I don’t see how they would kill a whale with it, though, or anything else.”
The chief evidently understood their ignorance. With a smile he fitted to the groove of the short stick the shaft of a short harpoon, whose head,about a foot and a half in length, they now discovered to be made of thin, dark slate, ground sharp on each edge and at the point. When the chief had fitted the butt of this dart against the ivory tip, he grasped the lower end of thenogockfirmly in his hand, steadying the shaft in the groove with one finger. He then drew this back, with his arm at full length above his head, and made a motion as though to throw the harpoon. In short, the boys now had an excellent chance to see one of the oldest aboriginal inventions—the throwing-stick, used from Australia to Siberia by various tribes in one form or another. As they themselves had sometimes thrown a crab-apple from a stick in their younger days in the States, they could readily see that the greater length added to the arm gave greater leverage and power.
“I’ll bet he could make that old thing whiz,” muttered John. “Still, I don’t see how he could hurt a whale with it.”
None of them knew at that time anything about the native Aleut method of whale-killing. Neither did they know that thenogock, or whale-killing weapon, is a sacred object in the native villages, where it is always kept in the charge of the headman, or leader in the whale-hunts, who wraps itup carefully and hides it from view. The Aleuts never allow the women of their villages to look at thenogock, saying that it brings bad luck for any one to look at it or touch it except the chief himself. Therefore, had the boys known that their prisoner had stolen this sacred object, as well as the bidarka and much of its cargo, they would better have understood the nature of this pursuit and the intentness of the Aleut chief to punish the offender, who had been guilty of a crime held, in their eyes, to be as bad or worse than murder.
Not, however, understanding all these things, and being very well disposed toward their captive, who had been of such service to them, the boys were not willing to turn him over at once to these people whom he so evidently feared, and who with so little ado announced their intention of killing him. For the time Rob could think of nothing better than continuing the parley.
“You got-um bad mans!” asserted the chief again.
“One mans,” admitted Rob. “Maybe so good mans; we don’t know.”
“Where you comes?” asked the chief, presently, looking about him. “This my house here. White mans come here now?”
Rob did not think it best to admit that they were castaway and lost on these distant shores, so he determined to put on a bold front.
“Heap hunt here,” he said, pointing to the meat and the hides stretched on the ground. “Kill three bear. Catch-um plenty fish. By-and-by schooner come.”
“When schooner come?” asked the chief, with a cunning gleam in his eye.
“Pretty soon, by-and-by,” said Rob, sternly. “Plenty white mans come pretty soon.”
The chief was not to be balked of his purpose, and kept edging toward the door of the barabbara. “Kill-um bad mans,” he muttered. “Him steal.”
Rob, seeing that he was bent on this, and unable to dissuade him from his certainty that the fugitive was inside the hut, for the moment scarcely knew what to do.
“No touch-um mans!” he finally commanded, sternly. “White mans come here by-and-by—Uncle Sam white mans. Suppose bad mans steal; Uncle Sam catch-um. You no touch-um bad mans!”
The chief hesitated, for he knew perfectly well that all the villages of this island were under control of United States law, and although the natives sometimes kept their own counsel andwreaked their own punishment on those whom they held to be offenders, they were, if detected, certain to be held to account by the United States government, which holds control over all this country to the uttermost point of the Aleutian Islands, although little enough law reaches enactment in these far-off regions. As he hesitated the chief turned away from the door, and the Aleuts now began to jabber among themselves. They pointed to the meat, and made signs that they were hungry.
“Da, karosha!” assented Rob, who was beginning to learn Aleut from his friend John.
He motioned them to help themselves. Without much more ado the natives proceeded to take off pieces of the meat from the scaffold, and drawing a little apart they built a fire. Rob observed that they used matches, and so knew that they must be in touch with civilization at least once in a while.
“It’s all right, Jess,” said he. “We’re going to get out of here sure before very long. These people can take us to the settlements any time they feel like it. I only wish we could talk more of their language or they more of ours.”
The Aleuts for the time did not talk much of any language, for presently their mouths weretoo full for speech. Each would stuff his mouth full of meat, and then with his knife cut off a piece so close to his lips as would seem to endanger his nose.
“We won’t have much meat wasted if they stay around,” remarked John, ruefully. “For my part, I wish they’d go. It’s trouble enough to take care of one native, let alone more than a dozen.”
The chief seemed to be actuated with some sense of fair-play, or else wished to continue in the good graces of the whites. Some of the men began to boil a kettle and to make tea. The chief picked up the bag of tea and made a gesture of inquiry of Rob.“Chi?” he asked.
Rob shook his head, and made a motion signifying that they had but very little. The chief poured out in his hands what must have represented to him considerable value in tea.
“Now ask him for salt, John,” said Rob.
This was too much for John’s knowledge of the Aleut language. He got a little red in the face as he admitted this.
“Here, you mans,” he said. “You got-ums salt?”
The chief shook his head.
“Salt! Salt-ums! Heap salt!” went on John,frowning. He made a motion as of sprinkling something on the meat, then touched his fingers to his mouth, smacking his lips.
The chief grinned broadly.“Da! Karosha!” He jabbered something to one of his men, and the latter went down the path toward the beach. Evidently he had supplies there, for in a few moments he returned carrying a dirty sack in his hand. The chief took this in his hand and grinned, addressing John.
“Salt, salt-um, salt! All light, all light, all light!” he explained, and divided generously with the boys, giving them something which was of great value to them.
For a time attention seemed to be diverted from the purpose of these strange visitors, the chief making no reference to the man for whom they were searching, but seeming to be content to sit at the fire and eat. What might have been the result was not determined, for all at once something happened which set them all on a run for the beach.
A man appeared at the top of the sea-wall excitedly shouting, waving his arms, and pointing toward the sea. The others answered with loud cries, and in a moment the space immediately about the barabbara was entirely deserted.
For a moment Rob, John, and Jesse stood looking after the natives as they hastened toward the beach. Their first thought was one of relief for the present at least; the prisoner in the hut remained unmolested. Then their curiosity as to the cause of all the excitement led them to forget everything else.
“Come on!” called Rob; and in an instant they were hurrying to join the scene of confusion which now was enacting on the beach.
As they reached the top of the sea-wall they saw for the first time the full party of natives, not more than half of whom had come over to the camp. More than thirty bidarkas lay pulled up along the beach, most of them two-hatch boats. To these boats the natives were now hastening; indeed, some of them had already launched their bidarkas and were paddling back and forth, as much at home on the water as onthe land. With much shouting and gesticulation, one after another bidarka joined these, the hunter in each hurriedly casting off the lashings of his harpoon which lay along deck.
At first the boys could see no reason for all this hurry, but as they gazed out across the bay all at once there arose in plain sight of all a vast black bulk which at once they knew to be a whale. The white spray of its spouting was blown forty feet into the air as it moved slowly and majestically onward deeper into the bay. It was plain that the natives meant to attack this monster in their fleet of bidarkas.
The old Aleut chief saw the boys as they came up. He motioned hurriedly to Rob as he ran to his own bidarka, grinning as though he hardly expected Rob to accept the invitation to come and join the hunt. Not so, however; for Rob was so much excited that he did not stop to think of danger. As the chief thrust the long, narrow craft into the water, steadying it with his paddle, Rob sprang in behind the rear hatch. In an instant they were off!
Rob looked around to see Jesse and John both crowded together in the rear hatch of yet another bidarka, where they did what they could to help a swarthy boatman to propel their craft. Robnoticed now that each hunter had his paddles, his harpoon, and his arrows marked in a certain way with red-and-black paint, so that they could not be mistaken for the property of any one else. All the hunters made ready their gear for the chase as they paddled on, perfectly assured and apparently not in the least anxious about the result of the hunt.
The other boats held back until the chief had taken his place at the head of the procession. It now became plain that his was the task of using the mysteriousnogock, over whose loss he had seemed so concerned. Even as his bidarka shot forward with its own momentum, he drew out from the forward hatch this sacred instrument and fitted to it the short harpoon. He made over the weapon some mysterious passes with one hand, and as he fitted the harpoon or heavy dart to the throwing-stick he blew three times on the point of it, passing his fingers along the edge. Finally he held the weapon up toward the sky and uttered some loud words in his strange tongue. Having completed these ceremonies, he placed thenogockand harpoon crosswise on the deck in front of him and bent again to his paddle. Rob himself, no bad canoeman, had meantime been paddling asthough he quite understood what was expected of him.
The head bidarka now passed steadily and swiftly on toward the great bulk of the whale, which lay plainly visible not more than a quarter of a mile away. As the other boats came on in squadron close behind, Rob could hear a sort of low, rhythmic humming, as though all the natives were joining in an incantation. It was his privilege to see one of the native hunts for the whale in all its original features—something which few white men have ever seen. The strange excitement of the scene, so many savage hunters all bent upon one purpose, and evidently using every means to screw their courage to the sticking-point, did not lack its effect upon the young adventurers who found themselves, with so little preparation or intent, swept on in this wild scene.
Once in a while Rob cast his eye about to see how his friends were prospering. Jesse looked a little pale, yet both he and John were eager. Crowded as they were both in one hatch, they could not paddle to much effect, but the native in the bow managed to keep his place in the procession. The first thought of Rob was that it was absolute folly to think of killing so great acreature with the insignificant weapons which he now saw ready for use.
As the chief began to approach the great whale more closely, he slowed down the speed, creeping cautiously onward at times when his instinct told him his boat was least apt to be discovered by the whale. The latter seemed ignorant or careless of the approach. Now and again it blew a vast spout of water into the air, and sometimes it rolled and half lifted its vast bulk free of the water, until it seemed larger than a house. The humming chorus of the Aleuts continued, but fell to a lower note as the boats drew near.
For what seemed an interminable time the bidarka of the headman lay silent, trembling and heaving on the swell of the choppy sea, while the huntsman sat steadily and studied the giant quarry in front of him. Once or twice he gently turned the prow of the bidarka, using the least possible motion. Again, a few feet at a time, he would edge it on in, pausing and crawling forward, his hand motioning back to Rob to be quiet and steady.
Now the Aleut showed at his best. There was no fear or agitation in his conduct. Without hesitation he gazed intently at the dark, glistening bulk in front of him, apparently hunting forthe exact spot which he wished to strike—a point about a third of the way back from the angle of the jaw. The whale itself seemed to be stupid, as though sleepy, although now and again it rolled slowly from side to side as though uneasy.
Like a cat the huntsman crept in and in toward his prey, scarce more than an inch at a time, till at last Rob saw the boat reach a point where the body of the whale seemed to tower above their heads.
Finally the hand of the chief was raised to signal Rob to stop paddling.
With his own paddle in his left hand clinched against the rim of the bidarka hatch, the chief with his right hand slowly and deliberately raised thenogockand its slate-tipped harpoon. His arm, extended at full length and quite rigid, passed now in a straight line above his head and slightly back of his shoulder. Rob, intent on all these matters, saw the native’s thumb and fingers whiten in the intensity of their grip on the butt of thenogock; yet the middle finger lay light and gentle, just holding in place the slender shaft of the harpoon, whose slate head, blue and cold, extended down and in front of the throwing hand.
Still the chief poised and waited until the exact spot he wished to strike was exposed as the whalerolled slowly toward the right. Then suddenly, with a sighing hiss of his breath, the dark huntsman leaned swiftly forward. The motion of his hand was so swift the eye could scarcely follow it.
After that all that Rob could tell was that he was in the bidarka speeding swiftly away from a churning mass of white water, in the middle of which a vast black form was rolling. He heard a sort of hoarse roar or expiration of the breath of the stricken monster. Once he thought he caught sight of the slender shaft of the harpoon, which in truth was buried, head and all, eighteen inches or more deep in the side of the whale, the point passing entirely through the blubber and into the red meat of the body. Although Rob did not know it, the shaft did not long remain attached. The struggles of the whale broke off the slate-head at a point near to the shaft, where it was cunningly made thinner in order that it might break. A foot or fifteen inches of the slate-head remained buried deep in the body of the whale. Thenogockhad done its work!
A loud chant now broke from all the boatmen, who joined the head bidarka, all backing away from the struggling whale. To the surprise of Rob, no further effort was made to launch a harpoon, and he saw that the presence of these otherboats was rather intended as a part of the ceremony than as an actual assistance in the hunt, the savage mind here, as elsewhere, taking delight in surrounding itself with certain mummeries.
As Rob gazed back of him to watch the struggle of the whale, he saw the sea gradually becoming quiet. The giant black form was gone, the whale having sounded, or dived far below the surface.
“Plenty sick now,” said the chief, sententiously, motioning toward the spot where the whale had disappeared. Then all at once he gave a loud whoop and started paddling toward the shore, followed by the entire fleet of bidarkas, all the occupants of which were singing joyously. Rob could not in the least understand all this, for it seemed to him the hunt had met with failure; but there seemed to be some system about it, for nothing but satisfaction marked the faces of the hunters as they finally drew up their bidarkas again upon the beach.
“Maybe so two—tree day, him die now,” said the chief, at last. Rob did not even then understand what he later found to be the truth: that what the Aleut really does with his slate harpoon-head is not to kill the whale with the wound, butto poison it. If the stone harpoon-head passes through the blubber and into the red meat the wound is sure to fester, and in the course of a few days to kill the whale, which then floats ashore somewhere and is discovered by the waiting hunters.
There continued some sort of system in this hunt, even though it was now arrested for the time. Men kept an eye out on the bay, where in a few moments the whale arose, spouting madly, and once more stirring the water into foam. Swimming on the surface, it then took a long, straight run apparently for the mouth of the bay. The chief gave some hurried command, and a dozen boats shot out, whether to head it or to watch it Rob could not tell, for presently the whale once more sounded, and when it next arose it was deeper into the bay. The situation now seemed to please the old hunter.
“Maybe so him stay here now,” he said, briefly, though why he thought so Rob could not tell.
No one made any attempt to pursue the whale after that. The chief, carefully wiping off the sacrednogock, again wrapped it up in its coverings, made some mysterious passes over it, and restored it to its place in his bidarka, whence, asRob now began to understand, the guilty Jimmy had some time since stolen it.
As the boys met on the beach it must be confessed they were not thinking of their prisoner or his fate. In their excitement they were chattering to one another about the hunt, which they all agreed was the wildest and most peculiar one they had ever seen or heard of.
“You had the best of it all, Rob,” said John, enviously. “Our man wouldn’t row up any closer. My, that old whale must have looked big from where you were!”
“Well, he did, a little bit,” admitted Rob, who had lost his cap somewhere and was now bare-headed.
“That beats bear-hunting,” said Jesse, “even although we haven’t got our game yet.”
“They say he’ll come ashore maybe in two or three days,” said Rob. “Meanwhile, I suppose these natives will hang around here and wait. If they do get him, it’s very likely they’ll squat down here to eat him up, and that would take all summer! I must confess I don’t like the look of it very much.”
“And there’s Jimmy—” began John.
“That’s so! We must go and see about him.”
Quietly they edged their way out of the excitedthrong of natives and hurried across the sea-wall to the barabbara. Opening the door they peered cautiously in. No motion met their gaze, and although they called several times in a low tone there was no response. Passing into the barabbara they searched every corner of it. No doubt remained—their late prisoner was gone!
For a time the boys sat silent and moody in the barabbara. The situation, as it appeared to them, was not a pleasant one. On the one side were half a hundred natives, whose intentions they could only guess; upon the other, as they now suspected, there might be an active enemy whose whereabouts they could only surmise. At last Rob spoke.
“It looks this way to me,” said he: “we three could not make any kind of defence against that band of natives, but perhaps they will not attack us. From what has happened, I do not think they will. Now, here is tea and salt which we got from them. That proves that they trade with the whites, which means that help may not be more than a hundred miles away at farthest. In the second place, these people think that we are here alone for only a short time and that our friends will soon be here. The thing for us to do is to keep them thinking that.”
“They’ll be over before long,” said John, “to see what has become of Jimmy, here, the man they were after.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” rejoined Rob. “These natives forget any purpose very easily; and now, as we know, they are busy watching the whale. But suppose they do come. The barabbara is empty.”
“They have not seen Jimmy at all as yet,” said John. “But suppose the bidarka is gone—he very probably took that with him.”
“Let’s go see,” suggested Jesse, and accordingly they hurried to the side of the lagoon. Sure enough, only the dory remained. The bidarka had disappeared from its resting-place.
“Now,” reasoned Rob, “he would be afraid to go out of the creek into the open bay, for then they would see him sure. There is every chance that he left the bidarka somewhere in the creek. We’ll hunt for it, then. I’ll go across in the shallow water, and we’ll search both sides of the bank. One thing sure is that Jimmy went in a hurry, because he left his gun behind. He can’t have had anything along more than his bow and arrows. We’ll know when we find the bidarka.”
So saying, they separated, and began to scour both sides of the creek, without success, however,until they nearly reached the mouth. Here, hidden in the tall grass on the farther side of the creek and close to the high rock wall near the mouth of the stream, Rob stumbled across the missing boat. With a shout he called to the others to halt, and presently, pushing the bidarka out into the creek, he paddled across to them. They all joined now in examining the contents of the boat.
“It’s just as I said,” commented Rob. “He left in a hurry, and badly scared. He could just as well have taken one of our guns as not, but we know he did not do that, and even left his own. Here’s his spear and his paddles. His blankets are back at the hut. So far as I can see, he took only his fishing-line and his bow and arrows.”
“Yes, but he may come back again,” suggested Jesse.
“I hardly think so,” reasoned Rob. “At any rate, he’ll not come back so long as these people hang around, because he knows they’re after him. Besides, the fact that he didn’t steal anything from us shows that he is getting scared about stealing. I’m not so uneasy about him as I am about these other fellows over on the beach.”
None too happy, the boys now proceeded to paddle the bidarka up the creek to its old resting-placein the lagoon, after which they busied themselves rather half-heartedly about camp work, a part of which was further fleshing of the bear hides. As they were engaged at this they heard a faint rustling in the dry grass near at hand. Startled, they looked around, and saw something staring at them from the cover. John reached for his rifle.
“Don’t shoot!” called Rob. “It’s a boy! I see his face plainly now.”
They advanced toward the intruder, who stood up, grinning and showing a set of very white teeth. He was an Aleut boy about twelve years of age, short and squat, with stringy, dark hair. He was clad in a smock, or jacket, of sea-parrot feathers, which came down to his seal-skin boots. In one hand he held a short spear, in the other several thongs to which were attached bits of ivory. He seemed not in the least alarmed, but, on the contrary, much disposed to be friendly.
“Karosha!” called out John to him. “All right, all right, all right!”
John seemed to pick up easily the expressions which the Aleuts used and understood.
Hesitatingly, but still smiling, the boy joined them, and walked with them over toward the bear hides, where he stood looking down. At last, as they resumed their work at the hides, he himself squatted down, and taking out his own knife—amere bit of steel bound around at the end with rags and hide for a handle—he also began to scrape away. So much greater was his skill than theirs that at last he smiled at their awkwardness. For the time he made no attempt at any kind of speech, and answered no questions in regard to his people. At last, as Jesse departed to the top of the sea-wall to learn what was going on along the beach, he began to jabber and attempt to make some signs. John guessed that he meant to say that in a couple of days the whale would come ashore; that then his people would build fires and eat.
“Maybe he’d like to eat a little himself,” concluded John. “Suppose we try him on some bear meat.”
Their offer seemed very acceptable to the Aleut boy, who in a very matter-of-fact way began to hunt around in the grass for fuel and to prepare to make a fire, which latter he did with skilful use of one of the few matches which he kept dry in a membrane pouch in an inner pocket.
“He’s camped out before,” said Rob. “It looks as though he had adopted us. Maybe he likes the look of our meat-rack better than he does the prospect of waiting over there for the whale to come ashore.”
The young Aleut put his pieces of bear meat on sticks, which he stuck up near the fire; and while they were broiling he himself ran over toward the beach, presently reappearing with some dark-looking stuff in his hands, which he offered his friends, making signs that it was good to eat.
“Smoked breast of wild goose,” commented John, smacking his lips. “It’s good, too. I wouldn’t mind having some more of that.”
Whether or not the boy understood it was impossible to say; but all at once he began to flop his arms up and down, quacking and honking in imitation of wild fowl. He pointed to a spot far up at the head of the lagoon, and then, picking up his bunch of thongs and ivory balls, whirled them around his head.
Rob’s eyes kindled.
“We can’t afford to use rifle ammunition to shoot birds, but if we can get this boy to go along on a goose-hunt we may have a new sort of fun, and maybe get some game.”
The young Aleut showed no disposition to return to his own people, and when at length, after they had all eaten heartily, the three friends turned toward the door of the barabbara, he followed them as though he had been invited.
“What are we going to do with this boy?” asked Jesse. “He acts as if he belonged here.”
“Maybe he does,” said John. “I saw him talking to the old chief, and maybe he’s his son. I have more than half a guess that the old man does own this house, anyhow.”
As the sun began to sink toward the horizon a wind arose and dark clouds overspread the sky.
“I don’t blame the boy for wanting to stay here where he will be dry. If I’m not mistaken, we are going to have rain and plenty of it. Meantime, we might as well turn in and go to sleep,” added Rob.
He motioned the young Aleut to the blankets which Jimmy had abandoned, and the latter, without ado, curled himself up on them. The others, tired enough, followed his example, and for that night at least they did not trouble themselves to keep any watch. Perhaps they had never had greater cause for vigilance, but their anxiety was lost in the bodily weariness which came over them after so many stirring incidents.
After the edge of their weariness had worn off with their first heavy slumbers, the mental anxiety of the young adventurers began to return, and they slept so uneasily that when morning came they all awoke with a start at the sounds they heard outside the barabbara.
Rain and heavy wind had begun some time in the night; but now they heard something else—the swishing of feet in the wet grass and the sound of low voices.
The young Aleut was awake also, but he smiled as he sat up on the blankets.
“I don’t think we need be alarmed,” said Rob, in a low tone to his friends. “If these people had meant us any harm we’d have been foolish to go out in their boats with them and leave our guns. Now we’re here safe with all our guns and other stuff, and here’s this boy with us, too. If they had not felt friendly toward us they wouldnever have let him stay here all night. Too bad we can’t understand their talk, and just have to guess at things; but that’s the way I guess it.”
A moment later there came the sound of a loud voice at the door. It opened, and the swarthy face of the Aleut chief peered in. He jabbered in his native language to the boy, who replied briefly and composedly. The chief now pushed his way into the hut, and, much to the annoyance of the white occupants, he was followed by a dozen other natives, who came crowding in and filling the place with the rank smell of wet fur and feathers. They seated themselves around the edge of the barabbara, and one of them presently began to make a fire.
“Dis barabbara—mypeoples!” said the chief. “My families come here all light, all light, all light!”
“Just as I thought,” said Rob, aside, to the others. “It is we who are the visitors, not they. John, you act as interpreter. Ask him how far it is to Kadiak.”
The keen-witted chief caught the sound of the latter word.
“You come Kadiak?” he said. “Come dory? You no got-um schooner?”
“Schooner by-and-by,” broke in Rob, hurriedly. “Our peoples come.”
The chief sat thoughtful for a time, his cunning eyes looking from one to the other.
“What you give go Kadiak?” he asked, at length.
“Schooner come by-and-by,” retorted Rob, coldly.
The chief chuckled to himself shrewdly.
“Where bad mans go?” he asked, after awhile.
Rob shrugged his shoulder and pointed toward the mountains, as though he did not know where the refugee might be.
After awhile the old native produced from under his coat three handsomely madekamelinkas, or rain-proof coats, made of membranes. He pointed to the clothing of the boys and made signs of rain.
“You like-um?” he asked. “Me like-um lifle.”
Rob shook his head, but the old man persisted. Finally Rob was seized of a happy idea.
“S’pose you go Kadiak,” he said. “You come back with schooner, maybe so we give one rifle, two rifle.”
This had precisely the opposite effect from that intended. The chief guessed that, after all, the boys did not know when any boat would come for them. The cunning eyes of the native grew ugly now.
“Mybarabbara!” he said. “You go. S’pose you no give lifle! Me take-um all light, all light, all light!”
“Hold on to your guns, boys!” called Rob, quickly. “Don’t let them get hold of one of them.”
Then he resumed with the chief. “Heap shoot!” said he, patting his rifle. “You no take-um. S’pose you get-um schooner, maybe so we give one rifle, two rifle; maybe so flour—sugar; maybe so hundred dollar. Our peoples plenty rich.”
The chief seemed sulky and not disposed to argue, but the young boy at his side spoke to him rapidly for a time, and for some reason he seemed mollified. Rob pressed the advantage. Drawing a piece of worn paper from his inner coat-pocket, he made signs of writing with a stub of pencil which he found in another pocket.
“You see talk-talk paper?” he went on. “S’pose you take talk-talk paper by Kadiak, we give-um one rifle.”
The chief grinned broadly and reached out his hand to take Rob’s rifle from him, but the latter drew it back.
“No give-um rifle now,” he insisted. “When bidarka go, you take-um talk-talk paper, we give-um rifle. No! No give-um rifle now. Wekeep-um boy here all right, all right, all right. No keep-um boy, no give-um rifle. No get-um schooner, no get-um boy.”
This was not very good talking, but it was not bad reasoning for a boy; and, moreover, it seemed to go home. The old Aleut sat and thought for a while. Evidently he either was willing to exchange his son for so good a rifle, or else he felt sure that no harm would come to the boy. Turning to the latter, he talked with him for some moments earnestly, the boy answering without hesitation. At last the young Aleut arose, edged through the crowd, and sat down beside John, putting his hand on the arm of the latter as though to call him his friend.
Rob drew a sigh of relief. Although he no more than half understood what had gone on, he reasoned that the boy had agreed to remain with them until word was brought back from the settlement. How long that might be, or in what form help might come, he could only guess. Keeping his own counsel, and preserving as stern an expression as he could, Rob sat and looked at the Aleut chieftain steadily.
The situation was suddenly changed by a shout from the direction of the beach. Led by the chief, the natives all now hurried out of the barabbara.The young boy remained. In a few moments he crawled out and presently dragged in after him the wet bear-skins, making signs that they would be spoiled if left in the rain. Having done this, he motioned to the boys to put on thekamelinkaswhich had been left in the hut by the chief and then to follow him.
Guessing that there might be events of interest on the beach, they adopted his suggestions and hastened out into the rain.
When they reached the top of the sea-wall the cause of the excitement was apparent. The natives were hurrying as fast as they could go in a body up the beach. Perhaps a half-mile from where they stood they could see a vast dark shape half awash in the heavy surf. Around it bobbed a few dark spots which they saw to be bidarkas. From these, and from the natives gathered at the edge of the water, there came, as the boys could see, one harpoon after another. It was plain that the whale, sickened by its wound and buffeted by the heavy weather, had been driven close in shore, and here had been attacked and finished at short range by the natives who had been watching for its appearance.
Of course the boys could not help joining the hurrying throng which now was thickening about the stranded whale. John and Jesse were much excited, but Rob remained more sober and thoughtful, even as they finally stood on the beach where the Aleuts were working at the giant carcass of the whale, which, pierced by a half-dozen lances and bristling with short harpoons, was now quite dead, and fastened to the shore by a score of strong hide lines.
“There’s the whale all right,” said he to his two friends. “It’s a good thing for these people, I suppose; but it’s a very bad thing for us.”
Jesse looked at him in inquiry, and Rob went on:
“Don’t you see that they’ll camp here now for days, and maybe weeks? They’ll eat this thing as long as it is fit to eat, and probably a good deal longer; and meantime they are not goingto take out any word from us to the settlements, if they really intend to go there at all.”
“That’s so,” said John. But his hopeful temperament cast off troubles readily. “We can’t do anything more than just wait, anyhow; and I suppose that our friend here”—he motioned to the Aleut boy—“will see that we get our share of the whale meat.”
The boys now saw that whale-hunting among the Aleuts is a partnership affair, a whole village sharing equally in the spoils. Every man of the party now went to work. Some of them mounted the slippery back of the dead whale and hacked away at the hide, laying bare strips of the thick white blubber. Skilfully enough, for those possessing no better tools, they got off long strips of the blubber, which they carried high up the beach above the tide. Some of them carefully worked at the side of the whale where the deadly harpoon had done its work. Cutting down, they disclosed the broken head of slate buried deep in the body of the whale, the wound now surrounded by a wide region of inflamed and bloodshot flesh. This they carefully cut out for a distance of two or three feet on each side of the wound, and this seemed to be all the attention they paid to the preparation of the flesh for food. As the rainwas now falling steadily they did not pause to build fires, but here and there a man could be seen eating raw whale meat, cutting off the strip close to his lips with his knife, in the curious fashion which always seems to the white race so repulsive.
The young Aleut looked among the pieces of flesh as they were carried high up the bank of sea-wall, and at last selected a few smaller portions which he carried with him when at last the boys turned back toward the barabbara. He also got a good-sized sack of salt and one or two battered cooking utensils. It was plain that whatever his relatives might wish to do, or whatever right they had to turn intruders out of their own barabbara, he himself intended to cast in his lot with the white boys.
The latter knew no alternative but to allow matters to stand as they did. The gloomy weather, however, oppressed their spirits. They had now been gone from civilization for a considerable time, and if truth be told they were becoming not a little uneasy about their situation. They had no means of telling how far the settlement might be, and they were indeed as completely lost as though they were a thousand miles from any white man’s home. As a matter of fact, the partof the great island where they now were cast away had scarcely been visited by a white man, on an average, once in twenty years since the days of the Russian occupancy.
Most of that day they spent inside the barabbara waiting for the rain to cease; but as the clouds broke away in the afternoon they ventured out once more to see what was going on along the beach.
“Why, look there!” said Rob, pointing toward the mouth of the bay. “They’re leaving—half of them are gone already!”
Rough as the sea now was, and heavily loaded as were all the boats with the flesh of the whale, it was none the less obvious that members of the party were starting out for home, perhaps disposed to this by the discomfort of life in rough weather with no better shelter than they could find on this somewhat barren coast. These natives nearly always hunt in districts where they know there can be found a barabbara or so, and such huts are used as common property by all who find them, although the loose title of ownership probably rests in the man or family who first erected them. When so large a party as that now present travelled together, it was certain that they could find no adequate shelterunless they constructed it for themselves; and the Aleut, after all, is not like the American Indian, who makes himself comfortable where night finds him, but is rather a village-dweller, who rarely wanders farther from home than a day’s journey or so in his bidarka.
All this, of course, was more or less Greek to the boys who stood watching the thinning party, as one bidarka after another was skilfully run out through the surf and as skilfully put under way in the long swell of the sea. At last a well-known figure detached itself from a group where he had been talking and approached them. The Aleut chief addressed himself once more to Rob.
“My peoples go now,” he said. “Me like-um lifle.”
“When you go Kadiak?” asked Rob.
“Maybe seven week, four week, ten—nine week all light, all light, all light,” said the chief, amiably. “You make-um talk-talk ting. Give me! You give-um lifle now.”
Rob turned to the other boys.
“We’ll hold a council,” said he. “Now, what do you think is best to do?”
The others remained silent for a time.
“Well,” said Jesse, at length, “I want to go home pretty bad. He can have my rifle if hewants it, if he’ll take a letter out to John’s Uncle Dick at Kadiak.”
“I think it’s best,” said John. “We’ll have two rifles left, and that will be all we really need. Let’s go and write the note and take the chance of its ever getting out. Anyway, it is the best we can do.”
They returned to the barabbara, where Rob wrote as plainly as he could, with deep marks of the pencil, as follows: