ddled silently on
his own errand of discovery. This boat interested the boys very much.
It was nearly twenty feet long and not more than two feet wide, covered
entirely with tightly stretched skin. In the deck were two round holes,
around each of which there was a mantle, or hood, of oiled hide or
membrane, which could be drawn up about the waist of a man sitting in
the hatch. On the narrow and sloping deck there was lashed a long spear
and an extra paddle. The boys also noticed sticking to the deck a
stringy-looking mass of grayish white, which at first they could not
identify, though later they found it to be a collection of devil-fish,
or octopi, which the native had gathered among the rocks for later use
as food. Peering into the hatches they saw a copper kettle partly filled
with a whitish-looking meat, which later they found to be whale flesh.
There was a ragged blanket of fur thrust under the deck between the
hatches.

"He's been cruising along the coast," said Rob; "but this is a two-hatch
bidarka, so probably he's got a partner somewhere around."

"Maybe he's up at our house now stealing everything we left there,"
suggested Jesse.

"Yes, and maybe it's his house that we've moved into," added John.

Rob, the older of the boys, and the one on whose judgment they had come
to rely, remained silent a moment.

"Boys," said he, at last, "this fellow looks like mischief to me. We
can't let him go away, to come back after awhile and rob us. We can't
leave his gun here with him and go on with our work. The only thing we
can do is to take him in charge for a while."

"Let me get his gun away from him," began John.

Possibly the Aleut understood some of this, for all at once he made a
sudden spring and caught at his gun.

Quick as a flash Rob covered him with his own rifle. "No, you don't," he
said; "drop it! That settles it for you!"

Again the Aleut seemed to understand, for he stood up, tried to smile
again, and once more held out his hand.

"Take his gun and chuck it in the boat, Jess," commanded Rob. "Now you
mush on!" he ordered the Aleut, pointing to the carcass of the bear.
("Mush on," in Alaska dog-train vernacular, means "march on," being a
corruption from the French word _marchons_.)

The native sullenly walked on ahead, and finally sat down by the side of
the bear.

"You watch him, John," said Rob. "I've got to go on skinning this bear."
So saying, he resumed his work, presently rejoined by Jesse