As the sea-lion is extremely shy and difficult to approach in the daytime, he is generally hunted on moonlit nights. He is more than twice as large as the fur-seal, but, like the latter, is a fearless swimmer, and delights to sport in the heaviest seas at the very point where they break and hurl themselves against a rock-bound coast. Like the seal, too, the sea-lion loves to haul itself from the water, and, climbing the most rugged rocks, lie and bask for hours.
Realizing the difficulty as well as the importance of obtaining a sea-lion, as food was becoming scarce in camp, Kooga took Phil with him on this hunt, in the hope that the lad might be induced to make some of his marvellous shots. Nor was he mistaken, for, [after a long and painful stalking] of a small herd of these animals, [Phil shot and killed two] at a distance of over five hundred yards. On their way back to camp, where the entire body of hunters was turned out to go for their game, Phil had the further good-fortune to shoot an otter that was sporting far out in the surf. He waited to secure its body, while Kooga ran on with the joyful news.
[“AFTER LONG AND PAINFUL STALKING PHIL SHOT TWO SEA-LIONS”]
As the natives came trooping up the beach they regarded the young white hunter with respect and admiration, while they greeted with extravagant delight the courtesy that led Phil to turn his first sea-otter into the common stock of the party. On the following day, after hours of weary and motionless watching, he succeeded in killing two more otters, one of which he gave to Kooga, while keeping the skin of the other for himself.
The gale blew itself out during the third night, and very early in the morning of the fourth day Phil awoke his Aleut companion, to whom he indicated by signs that it was time for them to be gone. Upon this Kooga woke another native, and talked earnestly to him for a few moments. Then, to Phil’s amazement, this fellow turned to him and said, in tolerable English:
“Why you go? Schooner gone three day, bime-by. You no catch him. Better you stay, hunt, catch plenty money. No go.”
“You miserable rascal!” shouted Phil, seizing the speaker by the collar and shaking him violently. “You have been able to talk United States all this time, have you, and wouldn’t? Now you want me to stay and hunt for you! Well, I’ll see you hanged first! So you tell Kooga that if he isn’t ready inside of five minutes to carry me back to where he brought me from, I’ll fix his miserable rifle so that it will never shoot again.”
This awful threat, together with the white lad’s furious aspect and loud voice, so alarmed the natives that they were only too glad to get rid of so dangerous a character by letting him go in peace. So in less than five minutes later he and Kooga had launched the bidarkie and were off. It was noticeable, however, that the latter left his cherished rifle behind, probably being afraid that he who could shoot so magically would bewitch it.