“That’s a capital idea!” exclaimed Rob. “Now, Jesse, if you’ll get a long pole and tie this handkerchief to it, I’ll meet you over at the dory with the other things which we’ll need on our trip this morning.”
Rob left the Aleut’s gun on the deck of the bidarka, but carried along his hide fishing-line and both the bidarka paddles. His own rifle and that of Jesse he put in one end of the dory, opposite the seat where he intended the Aleut to sit. Telling Jesse to watch the latter, he once more ascended to the top of the sea-wall, and here erected his signal-flag, piling up a heap of stones at the foot of the staff. Long and anxiously he gazed out toward the mouth of the bay, but only the long green billows of the sea came rolling in, unbroken by any sail or cloud of smoke. Across the bay, a half-dozen miles or so, the great mountains stood grim and silent, the tops of many of them wreathed in fog. It was a wild and desolate scene, and one to try the courage of any young adventurer. But Rob, seeing how homesick Jesse was becoming, did his best to cheer him as he joined him at the dory.
“Plenty to do to-day!” he said. “And now for a good boat ride. It’s lucky we’ve so good a sea-boat along as this dory—it’s far safer than Jimmy’s bidarka over there.”
Rob seated himself at the stern and put Jesse in the bow. He motioned to the Aleut to take up the oars and row, and the latter, without objection, skilfully got the dory out through the surf, and at once proved himself master of the white man’s oars as well as the native paddle. The wind was coming astern, and their run of something like a mile down to the mouth of the creek was made rapidly. Just around the point from the mouth of the stream Rob motioned to the Aleut to stop rowing.
“It looks deep here,” said he to Jesse. “Maybe we could get a codfish. Here, Jimmy, take a try with your own fishing-line.”
The Aleut grinned as Rob tossed him his rough-looking line of hide, and at once set to work. Nor did he prove inefficient, even with this rough tackle of hide and bone. He baited the crude hook with a piece of meat which he took from his pocket, and dropped it overboard in twenty fathoms of water. Motioning to Rob to keep the boat steady, he began to pull the line up and down in long, steady jerks. Before long he gave a short grunt and began to pull it in rapidly hand over hand. Rob and Jesse, gazing over the side, at length saw the gleam of a large fish deep down in the water. The Aleut, with another grunt, pulled the fish in, swung it over the sides, and threw it flopping at the bottom of the dory. It was a fine codfish weighing perhaps a dozen pounds.
“Well, I’ll say one thing,” said Jesse, finally, smiling: “since we have to make a living for ourselves, this is about as easy as any country we could have gotten into. Try it again, Jimmy.”
Whether or not Jimmy understood any English they never knew, but at least he cast over his bone hook once more, and, continuing his operations as the dory slowly drifted, in less than half an hour he had eight fine fish aboard.
“That’ll do, old man!” said Rob to him, and motioned to him now to row into the mouth the creek which was nearly opposite. They now could see John waiting for them on the shore. He had seen them fishing, and congratulated them on their fine catch, agreeing with Jesse that certainly they at least would not lack abundance to eat.
“I’ve heard you can make salt by boiling sea-water,” said John, who, although a hearty eater, was sometimes rather particular about his food. “That is almost the only thing we need that we haven’t got now. Our little sack won’t last forever.”