Chapter 6

"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.

XV

THE WHALE-HUNT

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 on the 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. Rob noticed 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 mysterious _nogock_, 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 the _nogock_ and harpoon crosswise on the deck in front of him and bent again to his paddle. Rob himself, no bad canoeman, had meantime been paddling as though 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 a creature 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 for the 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 the _nogock_ and 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 the _nogock_; 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 whale rolled 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. The _nogock_ had 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 other boats 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, but to 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 sacred _nogock_, again wrapped it up in its coverings, made some mysterious passes over it, and restored it to its place in his bidarka, whence, as Rob 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 excited throng 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!

XVI

THE MISSING PRISONER

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-place in 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."

XVII

THE ALEUT BOY

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--a mere 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.

XVIII

UNWELCOME VISITORS

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 would never 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--_my_ peoples!" 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 made _kamelinkas_, 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.

"_My_ barabbara!" 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."