THE SAVAGE REFUGEE
“
Well,” said Rob, finally, looking around at his friends and grinning, “I don’t know which of us is the worst scared; but, anyhow, we’ve got our game, and a lot of it. Do you suppose we can skin these big fellows?”
“We’ll have to,” said John. “There’s meat enough to last us a year. That old bear is bigger than any horse in Valdez.”
“And tough as any horse, too,” said Rob. “The cubs may be better to eat. I have heard my father say that bear liver isn’t bad; and certainly we can get all the fat we want to fry our fish. Lucky we’ve all got our hunting-knives along; so here goes!”
They now arose and began the difficult task of skinning out the great bear—slow work for even an experienced hunter. They kept at it, however, and had made a good beginning when all at once a slight sound at the edge of the creek bank attracted Rob’s attention.
As he turned the others noticed him, and all three of them stood staring an instant later at the same object: a round, dark face gazing at them motionless through the grass—a face with cunning little eyes set slantwise, like those of a Japanese, and long, stringy locks of dark hair hanging down about the cheeks. Instinctively each boy reached for his rifle, which he had left leaning against the carcass of the great bear. Apparently not alarmed, the face kept its place, staring steadily at them. Rob now guessed the truth, which was that this Aleut savage had heard the shots and had entered the mouth of the creek in his boat. Not knowing whether he was friend or foe, Rob motioned the others to follow him, and approached him with his rifle at a ready.
Seeing that they were not afraid, nor disposed to be driven from their place, the Aleut savage—for such it proved to be—arose, and with what he meant to be a smile stretched out his hand as though in friendship. His gun, a rusty old affair, he left lying on the ground at his side. Rob kicked it away as he approached.
They now saw how the Aleut had reached them. His boat, a long, native bidarka, lay in the creek, up which the native had paddled silently on his own errand of discovery. This boat interested the boys very much. It was nearly twenty feet long and not more than two feet wide, covered entirely with tightly stretched skin. In the deck were two round holes, around each of which there was a mantle, or hood, of oiled hide or membrane, which could be drawn up about the waist of a man sitting in the hatch. On the narrow and sloping deck there was lashed a long spear and an extra paddle. The boys also noticed sticking to the deck a stringy-looking mass of grayish white, which at first they could not identify, though later they found it to be a collection of devil-fish, or octopi, which the native had gathered among the rocks for later use as food. Peering into the hatches they saw a copper kettle partly filled with a whitish-looking meat, which later they found to be whale flesh. There was a ragged blanket of fur thrust under the deck between the hatches.