The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
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eater, was sometimes rather particular about his food. “That is almost the only thing we need that we haven’t got now. Our little sack won’t last forever.”
“Yes,” said Rob, “it would be all the better for our bear meat in this moist climate. But we’ll have to do the best we can by drying it with smoke.”
They now pulled the dory into the mouth of the little creek, turning it at the face of the high rock wall, and noticing the thousands of salmon that swam round and round the deep pool just above the entrance of the stream. From this point up the crooked bends to the place where the dead bears lay was perhaps a quarter of a mile. But presently they all met there.
“There is pretty near a ton of meat,” said Rob, looking down at the dead bears. “We ought to have skinned those young bears yesterday, but will do that now before they spoil. Then maybe we can make Jimmy understand what we want to do about saving the meat.”
They all fell to work now, the boys at one of the cubs and the Aleut at the other. The latter, with a grin of triumph, held up his fresh hide entirely skinned out before the three boys together had finished theirs. In some way he seemed to understand what they wished to have done about the meat, perhaps himself being inclined to see that plenty of food was on hand, since his captors were not disposed to let him go away. The Aleuts, who never see any fresh beef, and who live in a country where not even caribou are often found, are very fond of bear meat, which the more civilized ones call “beef.” The captive seemed to understand perfectly well how to take care of this “beef,” and he took out the long tenderloins from the back of each cub and separated the hams. For the big bear he did not seem to care so much, and made signs to show that it was tough and hard to eat. Rob insisted, however, that he should take some of the choicer parts of the bear also, since it seemed a shame to let it waste. They loaded their dory down as heavily as they dared, and so, dragging on the painter and poling with the oars, at last they got their cargo up to camp, mooring the dory alongside the bidarka.
Without much more ado Jimmy began to search around in the grass and found some long poles, one end of which he rested on the roof of the barabbara, supporting the other on some crotches which he set up. Across these poles he laid smaller sticks and made a rough drying-rack. He showed the boys how to cut the meat into long, thin strips, and under this, after it was stretched on the rack, he built a small fire, so that the smoke would aid the sun in curing the meat — none too sure a process in a country where rain was apt to come at any hour. After this the Aleut turned toward the dory, and hauled out something which the boys had not noticed before. He busied himself at the edge of the lagoon.
“What’s he doing, John?” asked Rob.
They all stepped up and watched him.
“Why, that’s the intestines of the old bear,” said Rob, at last. “I didn’t see him throw them into the boat.”
“I know what he’s doing,” said John. “He’s going to clean ’em out. They make all sorts of things. For instance, that hood around the bidarka is made out of this sort of thing, I believe. And then they make other outfits — ”
“Kamelinka!” said Jimmy, suddenly, holding up a part of the intestines and smiling. He motioned to his own sleeves.
“Da! Da!” exclaimed John, in Aleut language. “Yes, that’s so! Sure!
“He means he is going to make one of their rain-coats out of it,” he explained to the others. “A kamelinka is made out of these membranes, and they put it on like a coat, and no water can get through it. Didn’t you ever see one? They tear if they’re dry, but if you wet them they’re tough, and no water will go through them. Mr. Jimmy puts on his kamelinka, and gets in the bidarka and ties the hood around his waist, and there he is, no matter how high the sea runs. No water gets into the boat, and when he comes home he is dry as when he started. Pretty good scheme, isn’t it?”
They watched Jimmy for a time at his work before they finished stretching all the meat. Then they cleaned the codfish and put them inside the hut, so that the crows could not get them. Over the fresh meat on the scaffold they now spread some damp grass, because it was their intention to leave the place for a little while.
“We’ll make a hunt this afternoon,” said Rob, “and see whether we can find any gull eggs. First we want to see what our resources are, and after that we can help ourselves as need be.”
Accordingly, after they had taken the cargo out of the dory, and thus completed their labors for the time, they all four embarked in the dory, pushed rapidly down the creek, and out into the open waters of the bay. Here, a half-mile ahead of them, below the mouth of the creek, they saw some rough pinnacles of rock, over which soared thousands of sea-birds. As they approached these rocks they found a narrow beach wide enough to hold the dory. It took them but a few moments’ climb to gather all the eggs they wanted. These they were obliged to carry in their pockets or in the folds of their jackets. They trusted Jimmy to tell them which were fresh. Jimmy seemed always to know what ought to be done, and now without any advice he left the boys and proceeded to climb up to the steeper part of the rocks, where the nests of the gulls and sea-murres were so thick that he could scarcely avoid crushing the eggs as he walked. Evidently it was not eggs he sought. Agile as a cat, he climbed to the top of a sheer face of rock, and leaning over put his hand into a hole. A moment later the boys saw a dark body hurtle through the air and fall on the beach. It proved to be a stout, heavy, dark-colored bird with a strong, parrot-like beak and a crest of long yellow feathers on each side of the head.
“That’s a sea-parrot,” said Rob, picking it up. “Look out, Jesse, there comes another!”
Sure enough, one after another of the dead bodies of the sea-parrots fell on the narrow beach, until two or three dozen were lying there.
Jimmy ceased his labors, climbed down the rocks, and calmly began to skin off the breast plumage of the birds.
“What’s he doing that for?” asked Jesse of Rob.
“They’re not good to eat,” said Rob, “that’s one thing sure. I’ll tell you what — I’ve seen some dark-colored feather coats and blankets at the trader’s store down below Valdez. I’ll warrant they were made out of the breasts of these very sea-parrots here.”
Whatever were Jimmy’s plans he could not or did not disclose them. After a time he threw his heap of parrot-skins into the front of the dory, and stood waiting at the side of the boat, as though ready to go home if the others wished it. They therefore embarked for return to their camp.
XIII
MAKING A LIVING
“If any of our people were along,” said John, as they headed the dory back toward the mouth of the creek, “I would say we could have a pretty good time here.”
“I don’t doubt,” answered Rob, “that we can get along all summer without trouble. I believe, too, that the natives come here so often we may be able to send out word even if we can’t get out ourselves. We can’t possibly be a hundred miles from Kadiak town, and although we might get there in our dory, the chances are so much against it that I think we would do better to stay right where we are for a time at least. As we were saying not long ago, this country furnishes a living without much trouble.”
“And without much work,” added John, “as long as we have Jimmy.”
“He’s stronger than we are,” admitted Rob; “still, each of us must do his share of the work around camp, because that’s the only right way to do. He’s a good teacher, for we’re in his country and will have to live in his way — What’s on his mind now, do you suppose?” Rob continued, as Jimmy suddenly stopped rowing and began to look keenly off toward shore.
“I see him!” exclaimed Jesse, eagerly. “It’s a seal! Look at him!”
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