HUNTING THE SEA-OTTER
Although the long line of bidarkies of which Phil Ryder and his Aleut
companion had started in pursuit were apparently moving very slowly, as
seen from a distance of two miles, they were in reality skimming the
water with swiftness and in perfect silence. Their occupants, while
wielding their double-bladed paddles without a splash, and keeping
the canoes well abreast of each other at intervals of a few hundred
feet, maintained a keen watch for the slightest token of a sea-otter’s
presence.
Suddenly one man makes a silent signal that is flashed in an instant
along the entire line. He has caught a glimpse of one of the coveted
animals apparently asleep. Although no word is spoken, and no sound
comes from end to end of the little fleet, the sharp-witted animal
takes the alarm almost at the moment of discovery, and dives like a
shot to the very bottom of the sea, leaving only a bubbling wake to
mark his descent.
A few powerful strokes bring the bidarkie of the discoverer to the
spot. There it is abruptly halted, and the hunter holds his paddle
aloft while the others skim over the water like a flight of birds,
until they have ranged themselves in a great circle half a mile in
diameter about him. The otter must come up to breathe within fifteen
or twenty minutes, and when he does so some one of the thirty pairs
of keen-sighted eyes so eagerly watching for him is sure to detect
the act, even though he should show only the tip of his nose. A wild
yell announces the discovery; the hunted animal again dives; another
bidarkie, with uplifted paddle, marks the spot, and again the circle is
formed. Thus the unfortunate otter, coming to the surface at shorter
and shorter intervals, is made to dive and dive again, never being
allowed to draw a full breath, until at the end of two or three hours
he floats on the surface completely exhausted, and falls an easy victim
to the nearest spear.
To an uninterested observer it is a pitiful sight to see a defenceless
and harmless creature thus hunted to its death. At the same time
the pursuit is possessed of the fascination that always attends the
matching of human skill against animal cunning and powers of endurance.
Then, too, there is the excitement of ever-present danger in thus
venturing into the open sea, almost beyond sight of land, in such
cockle-shells as Aleutian bidarkies. In that region of sudden squalls
and fierce gales, dense fogs that settle over the water like vast
smothering blankets almost without warning――huge whales and other
sea-monsters that are always rising to the surface, and whose slightest
touch would overturn a bidarkie as though it were a feather――the
uncertainties of an otter-hunter’s life are many and constant.
Two surrounds and captures had been made by the hunting-fleet in
which we are interested ere, some time in the afternoon, it was
finally overtaken by the bidarkie containing Phil Ryder and his Aleut
companion. They were just in time to participate in a third surround,
every movement of which the white lad watched with lively interest.
This was the longest chase of the day, and the sun was disappearing
behind an ominous-looking cloudbank before it was concluded. During its
continuance there was no opportunity to communicate with the hunters.
The moment the capture was effected the entire fleet was headed towards
a distant island, barely discernible to the eastward, and was urged
with all speed in that direction.
Under the circumstances there was nothing for our friends to do but to
follow them, and it is doubtful if Phil could have induced Kooga to do
otherwise even had he been so inclined. He was not, however, for he
realized that it would now be impossible to regain their starting-point
of the morning before dark. Besides, he had not yet gained the
information concerning the schooner’s movements for which he had set
out. So he must spend a night with the otter-hunters, and with the
first streak of daylight he would set forth on his return journey to
Oonimak and Serge.
“Poor Serge! what a lonely night this will be for him,” reflected Phil,
remembering his own brief experience of the evening before. “It can’t
be helped now, though, and I’m awfully glad it isn’t my fault.” In
spite of this the lad’s conscience insisted on whispering, “You know
you came out to see the otter-hunt rather than to gain information, for
Serge could have done that much better than you.”
“Pshaw!” muttered Phil, “that’s not true, to begin with; and even if it
were, what difference will a single night make, anyway? I guess Serge
can stand it, for he is more used to such things than I am. Then, too,
I am certain the schooner has not gone back yet, for she couldn’t have
passed without me seeing her.”
When the little fleet finally made a landing by the last of the
twilight, and after a wearisome paddle of many miles, it was on the
small outlying and terribly rugged island of Saanak, the favorite haunt
of the sea-otter and the point at which the bulk of the world’s supply
of this immensely valuable fur is obtained.
Here the swarthy hunters glanced askance at the white lad, and not
until Kooga had given a long explanation of how he happened to be
there, and a glowing account of Phil’s wonderful skill with the rifle,
did they consent to admit him to a share of their scanty food supplies
and still scantier shelter.
Although Phil did not, of course, understand a word of all this, he
guessed what was being said, and was provoked that he should have
placed himself in such a position. To his further chagrin, he could not
discover one among all the hunters who could speak a word of English.
So Serge had been right, and he had acted the part of a headstrong
fool, after all.
While his hunger forced him to eat a share of the hunters’ supper,
which consisted of nearly raw meat, sea-biscuit so hard that they made
his teeth ache, and a cup of tea as strong as lye, he did not relish
it, and his thoughts turned with longing to the once despised cabin
mess of the _Seamew_. As for the dainty home-table presided over by his
dear Aunt Ruth, he dared not think of it.
If his supper was bad, how much worse were the sleeping accommodations
that the bitter chill of the night forced him to share! As the cold
wind swept in from the sea with ever-increasing force and charged with
stinging sleet, it compelled all hands to crawl into the few wretched
little tents, open at both ends, that afforded their only shelter
from the inclement weather. They had no blankets, nor bedding of any
description, and were forced to huddle together for warmth.
As poor Phil thus lay on the bare rocks between Kooga and another not
over-clean Aleut, his mind once more reverted to his far-distant
home, with its innumerable comforts, that he had once accepted as a
matter of course, without a thought of how they were provided or any
feeling of gratitude for them.
“Oh dear! what wouldn’t I give for a few of those things at this
minute!” reflected poor Phil. “A warm house, for instance, and a clean
soft bed, and clean clothes and soap and towels, and a brush and comb,
and, above all, for one of Aunt Ruth’s delicious suppers. But what is
the use! I can’t have them, and I am having just what I set out for――a
trip to Alaska and a sea-otter hunt. This misery will be over in a few
hours at any rate, for I shall make Kooga take me out of this in the
morning, and in a week or so from now I shall be looking back on it
from Sitka, and telling of it as a most interesting experience.”
Alas for Phil’s hopes! When the morning light came it revealed such a
mighty sea rolling in under the lashings of a southwesterly gale, and
furiously hurling itself against the rock-bound coast, as would have
prohibited the launching of a life-boat, much more a bidarkie. For
three days did the gale continue, and for three days did it hold Phil
Ryder and the native hunters close prisoners on the island of Saanak.
At first the former raged at his detention almost as furiously as did
the gale itself, though after a while he wisely determined to make the
best of the situation, and discover whatever good points it possessed.
As the wind came off the sea, they could build as many fires as they
chose without fear of alarming the wily game of which they had come
in pursuit. Thus they could cook food and make tea, which, under the
circumstances, was of inestimable comfort. In these occupations,
together with smoking and sleeping, most of the hunters spent their
time. On the second day, Kooga, taking his rifle and inviting Phil
by signs to accompany him, set forth in search of sea-lions, which
are highly esteemed as food by all natives of those northern regions.
They also use its skin in making their boats, its intestines for their
water-proof garments, its back-sinews in place of thread, while the
oil extracted from its blubber affords them both light and fuel.
As the sea-lion is extremely shy and difficult to approach in the
daytime, he is generally hunted on moonlit nights. He is more than
twice as large as the fur-seal, but, like the latter, is a fearless
swimmer, and delights to sport in the heaviest seas at the very point
where they break and hurl themselves against a rock-bound coast. Like
the seal, too, the sea-lion loves to haul itself from the water, and,
climbing the most rugged rocks, lie and bask for hours.
Realizing the difficulty as well as the importance of obtaining a
sea-lion, as food was becoming scarce in camp, Kooga took Phil with him
on this hunt, in the hope that the lad might be induced to make some
of his marvellous shots. Nor was he mistaken, for, after a long and
painful stalking of a small herd of these animals, Phil shot and killed
two at a distance of over five hundred yards. On their way back to
camp, where the entire body of hunters was turned out to go for their
game, Phil had the further good-fortune to shoot an otter that was
sporting far out in the surf. He waited to secure its body, while Kooga
ran on with the joyful news.
[Illustration: “AFTER LONG AND PAINFUL STALKING PHIL SHOT TWO
SEA-LIONS”]
As the natives came trooping up the beach they regarded the young white
hunter with respect and admiration, while they greeted with extravagant
delight the courtesy that led Phil to turn his first sea-otter into the
common stock of the party. On the following day, after hours of weary
and motionless watching, he succeeded in killing two more otters, one
of which he gave to Kooga, while keeping the skin of the other for
himself.
The gale blew itself out during the third night, and very early in
the morning of the fourth day Phil awoke his Aleut companion, to
whom he indicated by signs that it was time for them to be gone. Upon
this Kooga woke another native, and talked earnestly to him for a few
moments. Then, to Phil’s amazement, this fellow turned to him and said,
in tolerable English:
“Why you go? Schooner gone three day, bime-by. You no catch him. Better
you stay, hunt, catch plenty money. No go.”
“You miserable rascal!” shouted Phil, seizing the speaker by the collar
and shaking him violently. “You have been able to talk United States
all this time, have you, and wouldn’t? Now you want me to stay and hunt
for you! Well, I’ll see you hanged first! So you tell Kooga that if he
isn’t ready inside of five minutes to carry me back to where he brought
me from, I’ll fix his miserable rifle so that it will never shoot
again.”
This awful threat, together with the white lad’s furious aspect and
loud voice, so alarmed the natives that they were only too glad to
get rid of so dangerous a character by letting him go in peace. So in
less than five minutes later he and Kooga had launched the bidarkie
and were off. It was noticeable, however, that the latter left his
cherished rifle behind, probably being afraid that he who could shoot
so magically would bewitch it.