natives say that in very cold winter weather an otter may
freeze its nose, so that it can no longer catch fish, and thus starves
to death. Some, of course, are shot by hunters who never find them. It
is customary for the profits of such a find to be divided among the
tribe or family making the discovery, and even in case a hunter can
prove that he has shot an otter at sea which has come ashore, the finder
receives a certain proportion of the profits, most of the hunting done
by these natives partaking of a communal nature.

"This fur is still good," said Rob, pulling at it. "It hasn't been dead
very long, so maybe its mother is still around, or its daddy. That would
be something worth while, wouldn't it? Five hundred to fifteen hundred
dollars, perhaps."

The older Aleut was standing on the summit of the sea-wall, shading his
eyes and looking steadily out over the waves. At last he gave a loud,
sharp call, in which an instant later the Aleut boy joined. The two ran
first toward the dory, which lay on the sea-beach, where it had been
left after the last voyage for eggs, but an instant later they turned
back to the lagoon where the bidarka lay, and made motions that this
should be carried across and launched.

Rob and John hurried for their rifles. Jimmy caught up his bow and
arrows, and the Aleut boy his short spear. They hurried the bidarka
across the sea-wall to the open water of the bay. Jimmy resumed his
watch from the summit of the sea-wall. For what seemed a half-hour he
stood motionless and staring out over the bay. Then again he called
aloud and, hurriedly lifting his bow string into the notch, ran down to
the bidarka, motioning to Rob to take his seat in the rear hatch.

"You others get into the dory with Skookie," called out Rob, even as the
strong sweep of Jimmy's paddle swept them free of the shingle.

To launch the heavy dory was something of a task for the younger boys,
but in their excitement they accomplished it, so that the two boats
were soon out for yet another of the wild sea-hunts of this far-away
coast.

The method of the natives who hunt the sea-otter is to make a surround
with a fleet of bidarkas, much as they hunt the whale; but this, of
course, was impossible now. None the less, Jimmy, who assumed the
position of master of the hunt, motioned to the Aleut boy in the dory to
keep off to the left, while he and Rob circled far to the right in the
bidarka.

To the Aleut mind nothing approache