"It's a native hut of some sort," declared Jack, rather an alarmed look coming into his eyes.
The boys' experience with Aleuts had not inclined them to place much confidence in the natives, for it will be recalled that our heroes thought that their two boatmen had deliberately left them on the beach.
"There's no smoke coming from it," said Tom.
"In that case, maybe it is deserted."
"Perhaps so. But we had better be careful."
"That's right, after what we experienced from those two rascals of the pilot's, I'm taking no chances with these people."
Tom did not confide to his chums another bit of information that he had acquired concerning this part of Alaska from the captain of the Northerner. This was that in a part of the country in which they were cast away, the native tribes are ugly and vicious, never visiting a white settlement except when they must, and refusing to have any intercourse with Caucasians.
He had heard many tales of the bloodshed and theft attributed to these renegade natives, and as may be imagined, the thought that perhaps they had stumbled on a camp of them was not a pleasant one. However, Tom said nothing for fear of unnecessarily scaring his companions. The landscape looked wild enough to form the dwelling place of any desperate natives who, for any reason, wished to evade the United States revenue cutters and missionary ships.
But the need of water was imperative, and judging by the greater luxuriance of the trees and grass near the hut, there was water there. In fact, the presence of the hut in that site argued the existence of water near by. They watched the solitary structure for some minutes. But no sign of life appeared about it. Seemingly, they were the only human beings for many miles in that wild country.
"Well, come on," said Tom at length; "anything is better than enduring this thirst any longer, and I'm pretty sure there must be water yonder."