Chapter 5

Without much more ado Jimmy began to search around in the grass and found some long poles, one end of which he rested on the roof of the barabbara, supporting the other on some crotches which he set up. Across these poles he laid smaller sticks and made a rough drying-rack. He showed the boys how to cut the meat into long, thin strips, and under this, after it was stretched on the rack, he built a small fire, so that the smoke would aid the sun in curing the meat--none too sure a process in a country where rain was apt to come at any hour. After this the Aleut turned toward the dory, and hauled out something which the boys had not noticed before. He busied himself at the edge of the lagoon.

"What's he doing, John?" asked Rob.

They all stepped up and watched him.

"Why, that's the intestines of the old bear," said Rob, at last. "I didn't see him throw them into the boat."

"I know what he's doing," said John. "He's going to clean 'em out. They make all sorts of things. For instance, that hood around the bidarka is made out of this sort of thing, I believe. And then they make other outfits--"

"_Kamelinka!_" said Jimmy, suddenly, holding up a part of the intestines and smiling. He motioned to his own sleeves.

"_Da! Da!_" exclaimed John, in Aleut language. "Yes, that's so! Sure!

"He means he is going to make one of their rain-coats out of it," he explained to the others. "A _kamelinka_ is made out of these membranes, and they put it on like a coat, and no water can get through it. Didn't you ever see one? They tear if they're dry, but if you wet them they're tough, and no water will go through them. Mr. Jimmy puts on his _kamelinka_, and gets in the bidarka and ties the hood around his waist, and there he is, no matter how high the sea runs. No water gets into the boat, and when he comes home he is dry as when he started. Pretty good scheme, isn't it?"

They watched Jimmy for a time at his work before they finished stretching all the meat. Then they cleaned the codfish and put them inside the hut, so that the crows could not get them. Over the fresh meat on the scaffold they now spread some damp grass, because it was their intention to leave the place for a little while.

"We'll make a hunt this afternoon," said Rob, "and see whether we can find any gull eggs. First we want to see what our resources are, and after that we can help ourselves as need be."

Accordingly, after they had taken the cargo out of the dory, and thus completed their labors for the time, they all four embarked in the dory, pushed rapidly down the creek, and out into the open waters of the bay. Here, a half-mile ahead of them, below the mouth of the creek, they saw some rough pinnacles of rock, over which soared thousands of sea-birds. As they approached these rocks they found a narrow beach wide enough to hold the dory. It took them but a few moments' climb to gather all the eggs they wanted. These they were obliged to carry in their pockets or in the folds of their jackets. They trusted Jimmy to tell them which were fresh. Jimmy seemed always to know what ought to be done, and now without any advice he left the boys and proceeded to climb up to the steeper part of the rocks, where the nests of the gulls and sea-murres were so thick that he could scarcely avoid crushing the eggs as he walked. Evidently it was not eggs he sought. Agile as a cat, he climbed to the top of a sheer face of rock, and leaning over put his hand into a hole. A moment later the boys saw a dark body hurtle through the air and fall on the beach. It proved to be a stout, heavy, dark-colored bird with a strong, parrot-like beak and a crest of long yellow feathers on each side of the head.

"That's a sea-parrot," said Rob, picking it up. "Look out, Jesse, there comes another!"

Sure enough, one after another of the dead bodies of the sea-parrots fell on the narrow beach, until two or three dozen were lying there.

Jimmy ceased his labors, climbed down the rocks, and calmly began to skin off the breast plumage of the birds.

"What's he doing that for?" asked Jesse of Rob.

"They're not good to eat," said Rob, "that's one thing sure. I'll tell you what--I've seen some dark-colored feather coats and blankets at the trader's store down below Valdez. I'll warrant they were made out of the breasts of these very sea-parrots here."

Whatever were Jimmy's plans he could not or did not disclose them. After a time he threw his heap of parrot-skins into the front of the dory, and stood waiting at the side of the boat, as though ready to go home if the others wished it. They therefore embarked for return to their camp.

XIII

MAKING A LIVING

"If any of our people were along," said John, as they headed the dory back toward the mouth of the creek, "I would say we could have a pretty good time here."

"I don't doubt," answered Rob, "that we can get along all summer without trouble. I believe, too, that the natives come here so often we may be able to send out word even if we can't get out ourselves. We can't possibly be a hundred miles from Kadiak town, and although we might get there in our dory, the chances are so much against it that I think we would do better to stay right where we are for a time at least. As we were saying not long ago, this country furnishes a living without much trouble."

"And without much work," added John, "as long as we have Jimmy."

"He's stronger than we are," admitted Rob; "still, each of us must do his share of the work around camp, because that's the only right way to do. He's a good teacher, for we're in his country and will have to live in his way--What's on his mind now, do you suppose?" Rob continued, as Jimmy suddenly stopped rowing and began to look keenly off toward shore.

"I see him!" exclaimed Jesse, eagerly. "It's a seal! Look at him!"

About sixty yards away there was a round object with two shining spots on it standing just above the water--the head of a seal which was closely examining the strange object which approached it. All at once, as they looked at it, the seal suddenly sank out of sight. Without instruction the Aleut now bent to his oars as hard as he could, and hurried to the beach which lay not far beyond. Hurriedly pulling the dory up, he motioned to Rob to get out with his rifle.

"There he is again!" called John, pointing. "He's closer in now. Look, he isn't a hundred yards away! You try him, Rob; you're the best shot."

Crouching down, Rob hurried toward a big rock which lay at the water's edge. Here he rested his rifle and, taking quick aim, fired. The splash of the ball on top of the intervening wave showed that he had missed. Once more the seal sank, but in the course of a few minutes it appeared yet again, this time still closer in. Carefully Rob fired a second time, and this time they all heard distinctly the thud of the bullet, which proved that the shot had struck true. With a splash the seal disappeared, but giving a shout the Aleut pushed off the dory and called to them all to get in. In a few moments he brought them alongside the still struggling body of the seal, which appeared now above and now beneath the surface of the water. Hurriedly catching up his long spear, the native made a thrust at the seal and fastened it with the barb, and with many grunting chuckles drew it alongside. Soon, with a heave, he got it inboard--a small hair seal not much more than three feet in length.

"_Karosha!_" exclaimed the Aleut, with a grin.

"He means that it's good--that it's all right," explained John, who seemed to be the official interpreter.

"Well, I don't believe that I care to eat seal meat," said Rob; "but maybe Jimmy knows what he can do with the hide, or something else. We'll skin Mr. Seal and peg his hide out up at the camp. It's time now we got the bear hides stretched so that they can begin to dry."

Much elated with their successful day's work, the boys now assisted the native in stretching all the green hides, flesh side upward. The native showed them how to flesh and scrape the hides, and they spent an hour or so at this until each complained that his back was aching.

"Suppose we cross the creek and take a little climb up the mountain-side," suggested Rob. "We can get a good look out from there."

"All right," said John. "Of course we'll have to take our _tillicum_ along. Mush on, Jimmy!"

The Aleut, although apparently a native of the country where the language of the dog-train was little known, nevertheless seemed to understand the Alaskan command to "March!" He stood ready, only looking to see which way they wished him to go. Rob set off in advance, and they all splashed through the waters of the shallows at the lower end of the lagoon.

"Here's where Jimmy has a good deal the best of us," said Rob, pointing to their wet feet. "Our shoes will be gone in a little while; but look at his seal boots with high tops. They keep his feet dry."

"They call them _tabosas_," said John. "The Eskimos use boots like that, but they call them _mukluks_. You see, I used to know a native from up-coast who was a waiter in a restaurant at Valdez. That's how I picked up my knowledge of the Aleut language--which, you see, is quite considerable," he concluded, swelling out his chest a trifle.

"I see now why he wanted that seal," commented Rob. "Every country has its own way of getting along, hasn't it? Now, I suppose Jimmy here is about as comfortable when he is at home as we are in our houses down in Valdez; and he certainly does know how to make his living off the country."

They now continued their slow climb up the steep mountain-side, which lay beyond the little creek. Here the deep moss or tundra extended quite to the top of the smallest peak, but although heavy snow-fields lay at the top, the spring sunshine had now melted the snow at the lower levels, so that continually they were walking in little pools of ice-water, none too pleasant to persons shod as they were.

Jesse, the youngest of the party, now and then stopped for a moment to catch his breath; and, in fact, he seemed none too happy with some of these hardships of their experience.

"Come on," said Rob; "we'll stop when we get to the thicket just up above there. Jimmy acts as though he was looking for something up there--I don't know what."

They toiled on upward, now and again turning to look at the great expanse of country which lay below them--the wide bay shining in the sunlight, the magnificent panorama of the mountains beyond, and the line of the deep sea beyond the entrance to the bay. They turned as they heard a sudden exclamation from Jimmy, who was prowling at the edge of the alder thicket where they had stopped for the moment. As he pointed down they saw the surface of the ground among the alders ripped up as though by a giant plough.

Jimmy held up three fingers and pointed below toward their camp, the smoke of whose fire they could dimly see. At first they could not understand him, until he made motions as if digging, and swung his head from side to side, grunting in such plain imitation of a bear that they could not mistake. Then they saw that this had probably been the feeding-ground of the three bears which they had killed. Apparently the bears had been living high up in the mountains for a long time, waiting for the salmon run to begin. The country was all torn up where they had dug for roots and bulbs.

"Well, now, what's Jimmy going to do this time?" asked Jesse, interested.

The Aleut, talking to himself in some unknown words, was down on his hands and knees, himself digging in the holes among the alders.

"_Karosha!_" said he, at length, holding up several long, white bulbs about as thick as his finger; and he made a motion as though to eat them.

"Ah, ha!" said Rob. "This is an Aleut potato-patch, it seems. All right, we'll just gather some of these and use them for vegetables. They'll help out the meat and fish, perhaps."

As Jimmy dug the bulbs they put them into the folds of their jackets and sweaters until they had a good supply. After this they made their way down the mountain, splashed through the creek again, and threw down their new discoveries beside the meat scaffold. Jimmy indulged in a broad smile.

"Plenty soup!" said he, suddenly.

"The beggar!" said Rob. "I shouldn't wonder if he understood English as well as we do!"

They could not, however, induce him to use any further words than this, which is common among the Aleuts as the meaning of "food" or "plenty to eat," they having got this word from their association with English-speaking persons. The Aleut language now is a mongrel, made up largely of Russian, with many native words and a few of English.

Jimmy proceeded to show that he meant to use in his "soup" some of these bulbs which they had brought down, for now he began to strip them down to the clean white inner portion and half filled their water-can with them, presently setting it on the fire to stew. The boys never knew the name of this bulb, but they found it not unpleasant to eat--rather sweetish and insipid without salt, however.

They were all very tired that night; but they felt it necessary to keep some watch upon their Aleut prisoner, obliging as he had proved himself throughout the day. Again Rob stood the first watch, until he grew so sleepy that he was obliged to waken the others. Thus the long and uncomfortable night wore away, the prisoner being the only one who slept undisturbed.

XIV

THE SURPRISE

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.

"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-um _nogock_! All time my peoples no get-um whale. Him steal-um _nogock_!"

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 by _nogock_. 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 the _nogock_ firmly 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 the _nogock_, 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 it up carefully and hides it from view. The Aleuts never allow the women of their villages to look at the _nogock_, 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 and wreaked 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 were too 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.