XII
WAYS OF THE WILDERNESS
Rob awoke with a sudden jerk. A slight sound had disturbed him. He gazed steadily at the figure of the Aleut in the faint light of the embers. The latter was lying quite motionless, but something caused Rob to feel suspicious. He put out a hand and awakened his two companions, who sat up, rubbing their eyes sleepily.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jesse. “Where are we, and what sort of a place is this? My! I was dreaming, and I thought I was back home in bed.”
“John,” said Rob, “crawl over and look at that fellow’s fastenings. I thought I heard him move. Don’t be afraid. I’ll keep him covered with the rifle. Build up the fire a little.”
John complied, presently stooping down to examine the cord with which the Aleut had been confined. He gave an exclamation. “Why, he’s loose! He’s gnawed the hide clean in two with his teeth. He could have got away any time he liked.”
Rob admitted his fault. “The truth is,” said he, “I was very sleepy, and I must have dozed off. But now, what shall we do? Here we’ve got this man, and he evidently doesn’t intend to stay a minute longer than he can help. Whether he would hurt us or not is something we can’t tell; but we don’t dare take the chance.”
“It’ll be a great deal of trouble to watch him this way all the time,” suggested John.
“True, but we must watch him. On the other hand, what right have we to take him prisoner, since we don’t know that he ever meant any wrong? We’re not officers of the law, and this man has not committed any crime, so far as we know. The question is, what would he do to us if he got us before a law-court and accused us with making him a prisoner for no cause?”
The three sat in the dim light of the hut for a time and pondered over these matters. At length Rob spoke again with decision.
“It’s the greatest good for the greatest number,” said he. “It seems to me that the best thing we can do is to treat this man well, but not let him get away. He ought to do his share of the work, and he’s stronger than any of us. Then, if we should ever be rescued — ”
Jesse’s lips began to twitch. Evidently he was getting rather homesick. Rob noticed his face, and went on: “Of course we will get out of here before long, someway,” he said. “Meanwhile, we will have to make the best living here we can. If we ever get this man to a white settlement, where we can find out who and what he is, why, then, we can pay him for his time, if it should prove that he is only an innocent native hunting away from his village. On the other hand, if he turns out to be a criminal of any kind, then we’ve had a right to arrest him, and can’t get into any trouble over it.”
“It’s a pretty rough joke on him,” said John, “if he hasn’t done anything wrong. He acts as though he had been here before. For all we can tell, he may own this house that we’ve taken over for ourselves. The only thing sure is that he’s a better hand in camp than we are, the way things stand now. I’m for keeping him and letting him work. My folks’ll pay him whatever is right, if it comes to that; and you never saw an Aleut who wasn’t glad to get hold of a little money, I’ll warrant that.”
“Well,” said Rob, “we’ll let it stand that way. And now, as the night seems to be about half done, suppose you and Jess keep watch together and let me take a little nap. If one of you gets sleepy the other can waken him. I suppose there’s no use tying that man again, for he’s got teeth like a beaver.”
The Aleut made no further disturbance during the long hours of waiting, which seemed endless to the two young watchers. At last, however, the light grew stronger in the dark interior of the barabbara. John announced his entire willingness to eat breakfast, and, pushing open the door, motioned for the Aleut to go and get some wood. Without any resistance the man did as he was bid, shaking the remaining thong off his wrist with a grin. They finished their breakfast of bear meat and tea, the prisoner seeming immensely to enjoy the biscuits which the boys offered him as pay in return for his contribution of tea.
“Now, what’s on the programme for to-day?” asked John, finally. “It certainly looks as though we ought to take care of all that meat.”
“Yes,” assented Rob. “We’ll see if we can’t dry some of it, at least. Suppose you go on down the creek, John, and keep the crows and eagles away from the meat, while the rest of us bring the boat down the beach and into the mouth of the creek. That’ll give us plenty of boat room to bring up quite a cargo of meat to the camp here.”
“There’s another thing we ought to do,” said John, “and that is to put up some kind of a signal in case a boat should come down into the bay here. Of course Uncle Dick will be looking for us, and there might be a boat in here almost any day.”
“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