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.”
The older Aleut was standing on the summit of the sea-wall, shading his eyes and looking steadily out over the waves. At last he gave a loud, sharp call, in which an instant later the Aleut boy joined. The two ran first toward the dory, which lay on the sea-beach, where it had been left after the last voyage for eggs, but an instant later they turned back to the lagoon where the bidarka lay, and made motions that this should be carried across and launched.
Rob and John hurried for their rifles. Jimmy caught up his bow and arrows, and the Aleut boy his short spear. They hurried the bidarka across the sea-wall to the open water of the bay. Jimmy resumed his watch from the summit of the sea-wall. For what seemed a half-hour he stood motionless and staring out over the bay. Then again he called aloud and, hurriedly lifting his bow string into the notch, ran down to the bidarka, motioning to Rob to take his seat in the rear hatch.
“You others get into the dory with Skookie,” called out Rob, even as the strong sweep of Jimmy’s paddle swept them free of the shingle.
To launch the heavy dory was something of a task for the younger boys, but in their excitement they accomplished it, so that the two boats were soon out for yet another of the wild sea-hunts of this far-away coast.