On the 28th of July, the wind being moderate and favorable, we put to sea again, and pursued our course to the westward along the coast of Alashka. We made but slow progress on our voyage, and by the 9th of August we had only reached the end of the peninsula. The same day we passed through between the island of Oonemak and the easternmost of the Fox Islands. On the 12th we arrived at the island of Oonalashka. I had no cause to stop here beyond the desire of replenishing our water-casks and stores. Owing to our tardy progress,—having as yet, performed only one third of the distance from Kodiak to Ochotsk,—our provisions were more than half consumed. I therefore felt myself constrained to put in for a further supply.
The Company’s Superintendent, Lariwanoff, a gentleman highly esteemed by them, had died a short time previous to our arrival, leaving a widow and an only child, a daughter about eighteen years of age. I was received by his successor with much kindness, and with an apparent disposition to facilitate my voyage. The harbor, Illuluk, was spacious and well sheltered on all sides. There was a good anchorage in four or five fathoms of water, on a sand and clay bottom, at a convenient distance from the shore. While making some necessary repairs on my little vessel, and getting supplies aboard, Madam Lariwanoff learned that I was bound to Ochotsk. She immediately came, and on her knees entreated me to have compassion on her lonely and bereaved condition, and let her and her daughter take passage with me. Irkutsk in Siberia was her native place, and thither she was desirous of returning after a residence on this island ten years. Her solicitations were so earnest that I had not the heart to refuse her, and notwithstanding our contracted accommodations, entirely unfit for a woman’s occupation, I resolved to take her under my protection. I went aboard, and set about making the best possible arrangements for her comfort, gave up my bunk, enlarged it sufficiently for the mother and child together, and partitioned off the little cabin with a canvas screen. I immediately commenced taking on board their goods and chattels, with which, however, they were not overburdened; but she had been preparing to leave the island for some time, and had accumulated a goodly stock of provisions of various kinds,—several barrels of eggs, put up in oil, smoked geese in abundance, dried and pickled fish of an excellent quality, and other things equally good. Thus our fare promised to be the best the island afforded. In the mean time the Superintendent began to make objections, and throw difficulties in the way of the old lady’s going with me. She might make reports which would not redound to his credit. But I had it in my power to silence all his objections, having on board the cask of brandy, which it was at my option to leave with him, or take to Ochotsk. On his application for it, I demurred until he withdrew all his opposition to the widow’s leaving, and was willing to grant anything on the island we wished. He was a dear lover of “the ardent.”
Everything now went on smoothly, and in a few days we were ready for sea; but adverse winds detained us, and I seized the opportunity to take a stroll over the island with the Doctor and Superintendent. It was totally bare of trees and shrubs, and with little or no game but foxes. The whole value and importance of the Aleutian group consist in the sea animals taken on their shores and bays, such as fur-seals, walruses, sea-lions, and sea-otter; though of the latter there were few. This is likewise the principal depot of the fisheries of the smaller islands, and from here the furs are periodically shipped to Ochotsk. In the course of our ramble we ascended some high table-land with the hope of obtaining a view of the new island, which we were informed had recently made its appearance in the Sea of Kamtchatka, to the northwest of Oonalashka; but we were disappointed by a thick mist’s setting in, which obscured all distant objects. After wandering about in the numerous fox-paths, and with great caution, to avoid the many traps set for those animals, we returned to the village, somewhat hungry and leg-weary, and with but little satisfaction to boast of, beyond traversing a region rendered classic by the verse of Campbell, in the “Pleasures of Hope”:—
“Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles,
On Behring’s rocks, or Greenland’s naked isles;
Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow,
From wastes that slumber in eternal snow;
And waft, across the waves’ tumultuous roar,
The wolf’s long howl from Oonalashka’s shore.”
But, in fact, I was the only Wolf ever known upon the island. Nevertheless, I came near verifying the poet’s language, as I barely escaped being caught in one of those fox-traps; in which event I should have probably howled lustily, for they were terrible instruments.