Chapter 12

"I suppose so," replied the latter, "although I'd jolly well like to go over in here a little farther. I've a notion we'd come out somewhere closer to Kadiak town; and maybe we'd run across some native who would take us in. But there doesn't seem to be any game except once in a while a ptarmigan--those mountain grouse that strut and crow around here on the snow, and aren't big enough to waste rifle ammunition on. Maybe it's safer to go back to our camp and wait for a month or so more at least. What do you say, fellows?"

The others, who were very tired and a little uneasy at being so far from what was their nearest approach to a home, voted for the return. So, after a rest at the summit, where cutting winds soon drove them back, they shouldered their lighter packs and began to retrace their way down the valley to the sea.

Now they did not have to build any shelters for the night and could use their old camps. They found that their appetites were increased by their hard work, so that after the last camp they had little left to carry except their blankets and guns, although Rob manfully insisted on carrying out the great bear skull, which he found quite heavy enough before the end of the journey.

When at last they left the mountains and crossed the tundra to the deserted village near which they had left their dory moored, they saw that a change had come over the weather. In the north a black cloud was rising, and the surface of the bay, although little broken by waves so far as they could see, had a steely and ominous look.

"Maybe so rain bime-by," said Skookie.

Rob studied the bay and the sky for some time. "What do you say, boys?" he asked. "Shall we try to make it across to-night? I don't like the look of things out there, and you know it's a long pull."

"Well," said John, "I'm for starting across. There's no place to stop here, and I don't like this place any more than Skookie does, anyhow."

Jesse agreed that they might probably better try to make their home camp, as their supplies were low, and since, if stormy weather came, it might be a long time before they could cross the bay.

"All right, then," said Rob; "but we've got to hurry."

Skookie also was plainly nervous. They rushed the dory from its moorings, and all taking oars and paddles, gave way strongly as they could. At that time there were no waves of consequence, only a long, slow motion like the pulse of the sea which came down from the outer mouth of great Kaludiak Bay. The wind had not yet risen, although steadily the twilight seemed to thicken.

For three-quarters of an hour they made good progress. Then they noticed that their boat began to pitch a little, and small, choppy waves raced by. A strong slant of wind was coming down from another valley farther toward the mouth of the bay, opposite which they passed, when they left at one side the long spit of land which had served as shelter to their part of the inner bay.

Evidently the wind was freshening. A fine spindrift settled on the farther side of the bay, so that at times their own shore was cut out from view for many moments. Night, too, was now coming. Without a word the boys bent to their oars, thoroughly alarmed. Rob and Skookie were perhaps the calmest of the four, and Rob undertook to do what he could to encourage his companions.

"One thing you want to remember, boys," said he, "and that is that one of these dories will stand almost as much sea as a ship, if you handle her right. We'll keep her quartering into the waves, and will keep on rowing all night if we have to. Never mind where we strike the shore on the other side--we won't try to come out just at our camp. I only hope we can make it above the mouth of our creek, because if we go below that point we might drift twenty miles, clear to the far end of the bay. Don't pull too hard now and get fagged, but keep up a steady lick. Jesse, you'd better get in the stem and let John and Skookie each pull an oar. I'll take the other pair. Get your tin pail ready, Jesse, and if we take in any water, keep it bailed out the best you can."

The others were plucky, although every one was anxious. The little crew kept sturdily at the oars, facing what was a situation serious enough to daunt even the strongest men. These Alaskan storms are dangerous even to the most powerful vessels, and no coast in the world has a longer record of shipwreck and lost vessels of which no trace ever is found.

When once fairly out in the middle of the bay, the boys got a notion of the power of the sea such as they never before had known in their lives and thought never again to repeat. Clouds now obscured the sky. The wind increased steadily, coming in directly from the mouth of the great bay, and bringing with it all the power of the mighty Pacific Ocean. As these young adventurers looked over their shoulders it was a truly terrifying spectacle which met their gaze.

In steady succession, a few moments apart, there came down into the bay, apparently reaching from side to side across it, long black hills of water, great, roller-like waves which did not break but came in black and oily. Each one, as it towered above the little boat, seemed about to engulf it, but in some way the splendid little dory found its way up the side and across the crest; and then they would see the great, silent black hill of water swing on into the bay and pass out of sight, only to be followed by another. The wind was not yet strong enough to break the tops of the waves, and fortunately the tide was coming in, so that there were no rips, which would surely have swamped their little craft.

"Keep on pulling, boys!" cried Rob. "We're doing finely. She rides these big waves like a duck. She's a splendid boat!"

Skookie did not say anything, but once in a while cast an anxious eye toward the head of the bay.

"Is it all right, Skookie?" asked Rob.

"I dinno," answered Skookie, and bent again to his oar.

"So long as the sea doesn't break," said Rob, "we can ride these rollers all right. It's when she goes white that you want to look out."

Perhaps this was precisely what Skookie had feared. Within three minutes after Rob had spoken what he had dreaded actually occurred. They were riding steadily up toward the top of a long, oily wave whose leeward side was quite unbroken, when, just as they reached the top, the wind seemed to tear the crest of the wave into shreds. Without warning, a great, boiling surge of white, hissing water came up all around them. It was as though some angry spirit of the deep had risen up from below and tried to pull them down.

The white water poured in over the gunwale and half filled the dory, which seemed on the point of sinking before the long wave crept away, growling, as though disappointed at being baffled in its purpose.

Jesse, who had left the stern seat and was crouched in the bottom of the dory, uttered a cry of affright.

"Quiet, there!" called out Rob, sharply. "Bail, bail as fast as you can! Hurry up!"

Thoroughly frightened, but rallying to his young commander's voice, Jesse obeyed, and bailed rapidly as he could, the sloshing water now leaving him for the bow, and now flooding him to the knees as it swept back to the stern when the bow arose. The dory yawed and veered unsteadily. Had they struck another piece of white water the end must have come for them, for their craft would have been beyond the control of their weary arms. Good-fortune was with them, however, and Jesse's efforts steadily lightened their little ship, while the others kept her headed up, quartering into the long waves.

How long they rowed in this heart-breaking manner none of them ever knew, but it seemed many hours. No doubt it was two or three hours before they began to reach the shelter of the nearest projecting point on the farther side of the bay. By this time they were nearly worn out, their arms trembling, and their faces pale from over-exertion, but they dared not stop, and so pulled on as best they could. All at once Skookie spoke.

"_Karosha_!" he exclaimed. "Pretty soon all light, all light! I hear-um water over dar."

He meant that he now could hear the surf breaking along the beach on their side of the bay. The roar of the waves became plainer and plainer as they pulled in, and now the rollers became less gigantic, and their headway increased as the wind was shut off by the promontory at the head of their beach.

The sound of the breaking surf was ominous enough of itself. In these wild seas it is not every one who can take in a boat safely through such waters. Rob was wise enough to ask counsel of Skookie in this matter, when at last they could see the rim of white water breaking madly along the shingle.

The young Aleut did not seem much concerned. He told them to stop rowing when they approached the first long ridge of breaking water, and with his own oars he held the boat for a minute, looking astern and waiting for the right instant. A great wave came in toward them, but just before it broke Skookie gave a shout and they all fell to their oars, going in just with the crest of this wave and keeping just ahead of where it broke. Thus their boat was carried high up the beach.

At the right instant overboard went Skookie waist deep in the surging white water. In an instant Rob was out on the other side. The receding wave almost swept the dory back, but they held her; and another, lifting her clear and carrying the boys off their feet for a moment, flung her yet farther up the beach and at the edge of the high-water mark. As she grounded this time they were all out and helped run her up high and dry. Here they made her fast by the painter to a jagged rock which projected from the wall at the edge of the beach. Then, too tired to do anything further, and trembling now in the reaction which followed the peril from which they had escaped, they flung themselves panting on the beach, with pale faces looking out into the stormy sea which thundered at their feet. They were all sobered thoroughly by their experience. At last Rob spoke, standing up preparatory to the walk down the beach toward their old barabbara.

"I know what I thought out there when she broke under us," said he; "and I know what I _did_, too."

"Yes, and," said Jesse, as he and the others rose to follow him, "I know what _I'm_ going to do before I go to sleep to-night, too. I'm going to remember my prayers."

XXVII

THE MAN-HUNT

For several days after their fortunate escape from the storm at sea the boys were willing enough to lie around their camps, resting, undertaking no labor beyond that necessary in getting their daily food. About this latter there was rarely any difficulty at all.

Of course, after a time all the birds in the lagoon were easily frightened away, but once in a while during the coming week the young hunters repeated their hunt with the thongs, and finally saw quite a heap of smoked goose-breasts accumulate on their drying-rack, where some of the bear meat still remained, as well as a goodly number of split salmon.

The gulls' nests and the salmon stream afforded their best source of supply, each practically exhaustless at that season. The salmon came practically to their very door, and, provided as they were now with salt, there was small excuse for any of them going hungry. So easy, indeed, did life become, so far as food was concerned, that, as has been stated above, a certain monotony, not to say anxiety, settled upon them all. This, however, was one day broken by an event of most startling interest.

They were following down the salmon creek, with the intention of taking a few fish at the pool near the mouth, when all at once the young Aleut, whose keen eyes were ever searching the country both far and near, paused and gave a low exclamation as he pointed to the mud near the banks.

"Bad mans come!" he said.

They peered where he pointed. Sure enough, there was the mark of a man's foot, evidently that of a man wearing _mukluks_, or seal boots. The boys looked at one another.

"Him come," said Skookie, making signs of catching salmon. He made other signs of going to sleep, putting his hands against his cheek and closing his eyes, and then pointing up the hills. He pointed from the hills to the creek. Thus the boys knew what he meant, what they at once suspected to be the truth--that their late prisoner Jimmy was hiding out in the mountains, and coming down like a wild animal to make his living on the salmon run.

This was a situation which at once seemed to them very grave.

"He has not left, after all," said Rob, moodily. "I wish we had him under lock and key again. The question is, are we going to catch him again, or is he going to catch us first? That's what I want to know."

"What do you mean?" asked John. "He's free, and we don't know where he is. Surely you don't mean that we ought to go and hunt him up?"

"I feel just this way," answered Rob, "as I always have about anything of the sort--if there's going to be trouble, let us have it over and done with. For one, I don't relish lying awake night after night wondering if our camp is going to be surprised; and neither do I like to walk these shores wondering if this fellow is going to slip an arrow into one of us from the grass."

"Wouldn't we be safe in the house?" asked Jesse.

"We can't stay in the house all the time, and we would not be safe even there. No, it looks as though we ought to go out and hunt this fellow up and see what he is doing and intends to do."

Without further words they turned back toward the house, followed by the Aleut boy, who looked from one to the other as if wondering what their words signified. This he discovered a few moments later, when Rob and John both emerged, each with a loaded rifle under his arm.

"Come on," said Rob, and led the way, splashing through the shallow water at the foot of the lagoon which separated them from the mountain-side beyond.

They climbed in silence for some time, steadily ascending the steep face of the snow-capped mountain which lay before them. Again they saw the wonderful pictures afforded by this region, where both ocean and mountains blend in the landscape. As now and then they paused for breath, they turned to look at the wonderful view of the great bay, the silver thread of the lagoon and creek, and the low, round dot made by their hut upon the flat. Above them circled many of the great bald eagles, which occasionally departed for their salmon-fishing in the stream. Once or twice they heard the sharp bark of a fox concealed in the alder thickets, and as they reached the upper slopes, where the snow still lay, frequently they saw the mountain ptarmigan, at this altitude still in its white winter plumage. These birds, when alarmed, would fly but a short way and then poise in the air, uttering a sharp, crowing cackle, soon to alight and stand motionless on the snow. All these scenes of wild nature were noted by the boys, though perhaps not so much as they might have been had they not been upon so serious an errand.

From time to time they caught the trail of the fugitive across the snow-field, where it could be seen for half a mile at a stretch. Beyond such a snow-field they came across the ashes of a fire which had been built behind a clump of rocks out of sight from the beach below. There were some half-burned bones, which showed that some one had cooked fish here. Skookie, making the sign of sleep, or night, held up six fingers, to show that it had been that many days since the fugitive had been here.

They managed to puzzle out the trail for some distance up the mountains from this point, but finally lost it on a bare rock ridge which thrust up well toward the peak of the mountain between two snow-fields. Skookie, stooping down and hunting like a dog among the half-bare rocks, slowly puzzled out the trail for a time. Evidently the man they wanted had made a practice of sleeping far back in the mountains. For a time they almost despaired of discovering him, until at last Jesse, whose eyes were always keen, pointed out what he thought were tracks leading across a snow-bank a quarter of a mile ahead. Hastening thither, they gained a half-mile more in their pursuit, but finally were obliged to halt puzzled at a bare rim of rock, beyond which and below them lay a wide expanse of rough country broken by cañons and covered by a dense alder growth, the only timber of that region.

In that broken country hiding might have been offered for a regiment, almost, it seemed. Rob suggested that it was perhaps as well to return to camp and give up the search.

"Hold on a minute," said Jesse. "Look over there! I think I see something."

He pointed ahead and below at some object a half-mile farther on. Presently they all saw it--a figure visible against the snow which lay along the edge of a sharp cañon wall. A moment later it was lost as it moved into the cover of the alder thicket; but even as they hesitated they saw arising a thin wreath of blue smoke, which proved to them that the figure they had seen was a man, and no doubt the one for whom they were looking.

Skookie looked serious, his brown face drawn into a frown of anxiety and fear.

"Bad mans, bad mans!" he said, over and over again, shaking his head.

"Come on, fellows!" was Rob's comment, and he plunged on down the rock face, hurrying to get his party out of sight as quickly as possible. Once lower down, and near the elevation of the smoke at the cañon side, concealment was much easier, and from this point they stalked the hidden fugitive much as they would have done with a big-game animal had they been pursuing it.

They paused at last at the rim of a shelving rock which projected out at the top of the cañon wall. The smell of the smoke was strong in their nostrils, and they knew that they were near the end of their hunt. Somewhere below them, perhaps within a few yards or feet, the fugitive must be lying; but, although they peered over cautiously, they could see no one. As a matter of fact, a shallow cavern existed directly under them in the side of the cañon wall, and it was at the mouth of this that the Aleut had built his fire.

Seeing no sign of life, Rob proceeded to dispose his forces with the purpose of surrounding his man. He motioned to Jesse and the Aleut boy to remain at the rim of the cañon, and, sending John to a point below, he himself climbed down on the upper side of the fire. When he reached a point where he could see into the mouth of the cave and realized that very probably this was the abode of the escaped Aleut, he waited until he saw John in position below, and then as they both covered the mouth of the cave with their guns he gave a loud call:

"Here, you, Jimmy, come out of that!"

They all heard a low exclamation, which assured them that their man was at home; but at first he refused to appear. Rob called out loudly again, half raising himself above a rock behind which he had taken shelter against any surprise.

Presently they heard a voice raised, not in defiance, but in entreaty. They scarcely recognized the figure which limped to the mouth of the cave, so gaunt and haggard did it seem. It was, indeed, their late prisoner, but now bent and weak, as though ill and half starved. He held his bow and arrows in one hand over his head, but the bow was not strung. Evidently he intended to surrender without any resistance.

"Good mans, good!" he repeated, beating on his breast.

They closed in on him now and took away his weapons. The Aleut boy jabbered at him in excited tones, apparently accusing or reproaching him. Jimmy edged away from him and looked at the white faces of the others, which regarded him sternly but with no apparent anger. He sadly pointed to his leg, which had been injured by a fall on the rocks. Evidently he wanted to tell them that if they would take him back on the old footing he, for his part, would be glad enough to come, if only they would keep the savage brown boy away from him.

"Now we've got him," said Rob, at last, "and what shall we do with him?"

"We'll have to take him down," said John. "He'd just about die if we left him up here; and I don't believe he'll make us trouble any more. Besides, we've got Skookie here to watch him now."

Rob debated the matter in his mind for some time, but finally agreed that Jimmy would probably make them no more trouble, since he very possibly was hiding out more in fear of them than in any wish to harm them. Reasoning that one or both of these natives might be useful in later plans, he at last held out his hand to Jimmy, and with some effort persuaded Skookie that it would be better for him to shake hands with Jimmy than to take a rifle and shoot him, as the boy seemed more disposed to do. He knew that these natives soon forget their animosities.

Thus at length they started down the mountain along the trail, which Jimmy pointed out, hobbling along in advance. In a couple of hours they were at the top of the high rock face above the mouth of the creek. Here Jimmy paused and anxiously scanned the entire expanse of the adjacent cove and the long line of the beach beyond. He seemed overjoyed that there was no longer any sign of the hostile party which had come in pursuit of him. At least the boys guessed that was what he felt, and guessed also that he had been coming down to the stream at night and not in the daytime, perhaps thus sustaining the fall which had hurt his leg.

They were hungry that night as they cooked their evening meal in the smoky barabbara.

"No watch to-night, boys!" said Rob. "These two friends can watch each other, if they feel like it, but I think we may sleep without anxiety."

"For a prisoner, it looks to me that Jimmy was very glad to be caught," remarked John.

XXVIII

A HUNT FOR SEA-OTTER

Two or three days more passed in this strange situation, but nothing took place which even to Rob's watchful eye seemed to indicate any danger from either of their Aleut companions. In the wilderness the most practical thing is accepted as it appears, without much argument, if only it seems necessary; so now this somewhat strangely assorted company settled down peaceably into the usual life of the place, until an event happened which brought them all still more closely together.

They were going over to the beach to see that their flag-staff was still in proper position, when Jesse's keen eyes noted at the edge of the beach a small, dark object which had been cast up by the waves. A moment's examination proved to them that this was nothing less than a sea-otter cub, a small animal not much larger than a wood-chuck, but with a long, pointed tail, and covered with short, soft fur. All these boys had lived in Alaska long enough to know the great value of the fur of the sea-otter, which even at this time was worth more than a thousand dollars a skin. They reasoned that since this cub had come ashore there might be older otters about. The cause of the death of the cub they never knew; nor, indeed, do even the native hunters always know what kills the otters which they find sometimes cast up by the waves on the beaches. Some natives say that in very cold winter weather an otter may freeze its nose, so that it can no longer catch fish, and thus starves to death. Some, of course, are shot by hunters who never find them. It is customary for the profits of such a find to be divided among the tribe or family making the discovery, and even in case a hunter can prove that he has shot an otter at sea which has come ashore, the finder receives a certain proportion of the profits, most of the hunting done by these natives partaking of a communal nature.

"This fur is still good," said Rob, pulling at it. "It hasn't been dead very long, so maybe its mother is still around, or its daddy. That would be something worth while, wouldn't it? Five hundred to fifteen hundred dollars, perhaps."