To say that our friends were startled by the sound of these rifle-shots in that wilderness, which but a minute before they would have sworn did not contain a human being other than themselves, but feebly expresses their astonishment and joy. To them, or at least to Phil Ryder, a rifle-shot indicated the presence of white men. These must belong to a vessel that would take him and his companions to some point from which passage might be engaged for Sitka. Thus, ere the breeze had dissipated the little cloud of blue smoke from that second shot, all the perplexities of the situation had vanished, and Phil felt as though the object of his long journey were at length attained. To his amazement and dismay, the figure that bounded into view from behind a jutting point of rock as the caribou fell was not that of a white man, but of a native. Although he was clad in hat, shirt, trousers, and boots of the quality adopted by all who lead rough out-of-door lives, his short figure, dark skin, and broad face proved him to be a full-blooded Aleut.
If the castaways were surprised to see him, he was equally so at their appearance, and at sight of them stopped short in his tracks. Then with a glance at his caribou to assure himself that it was dead, he slowly advanced towards where they stood.
Serge, with extended hand, stepped forth to meet him, and, in the Russian trade patois common to that coast, told him how glad they were to see him, and asked how he happened to be in that place.
He replied that his name was Kooga, that he had come alone in his bidarkie from Oonga Island to act as hunter for, and keep supplied with food during the next three months, a party of sea-otter-catchers who were daily expected to reach that neighborhood from Oonalaska.
Having in turn learned who the strangers were, and expressed his gratification at meeting them, Kooga turned his attention to his game, which he proceeded to skin and cut up with the utmost dexterity.
As the others watched him with hungry anticipations, Serge continued to ply him with questions, and thus learned that he, like themselves, had been weather-bound on the island by the tempest of the past week, but for which his friends would long since have arrived. Now he thought they would leave Oonalaska in the traders’ schooner that very day, and that the next one would witness their arrival off that point of Oonimak nearest the little outlying island of Saanak, where are the best sea-otter grounds of the coast.
“He also says,” continued Serge, interpreting this communication for the benefit of the others, “that after leaving her hunters the schooner will run on to Saanak, where she will cache a store of provisions for their use, and will then return to Oonalaska, not to come back for three months.”
“What a splendid chance for us!” cried Phil. “It is exactly such a one as we have been wanting. Talk about bad-luck now!” he added, with a sly glance at Serge. “It seems to me ours couldn’t be much better than it is if we had arranged it to suit ourselves.”
Serge paid no attention to this remark, for he was listening attentively to Kooga, who was again talking, and saying that in four days from that time another trading-schooner bound for Oonalaska from the eastward was due to pass close to the north side of Oonimak Island.
“Better and better!” exclaimed Phil, when this was translated. “We surely can’t miss them both, and must be taken off by one or the other. I hope it will be by the sea-otter fellow, though, as I should dearly love to see something of that hunting.”