from the tree-tops of the hidden shore. To Chirikoff's amazement, the
second crew made no signal. The night passed uneasily. Sailors were on
the watch. Ship's rigging was put in shape. Dawn was witnessed {49} by
eager eyes gazing shoreward. The relief was inexpressible when two
boats--a long and a short one like those used by the two crews--were seen
rounding the elbow of land. The landward breeze was now straining the
_St. Paul's_ hawsers. Glad to put for open sea to weather the coming
gale, Chirikoff ordered all hands on deck and anchors up. The small
boats came on with a bounce over the ocean swell; but suddenly one of
Chirikoff's Russians pointed to the approaching crafts. There was a
pause in the rattle of anchor chains. There was a pause in the bouncing
of the small boats, too. They were _not_ the Russian jolly-boats. They
were canoes; and the canoes were filled with savages as dumb with
astonishment at the apparition of the _St. Paul_ as the Russians were at
the canoes. Before the Russians had come to their senses, or Chirikoff
had time to display presents to allure the savages on board as hostages,
the Indians rose in their places, uttered a war-whoop that set the rocks
echoing, and beating their paddles on the gun'els, scudded for shore.
Gradually the meaning dawned on Chirikoff. His two crews had been
destroyed. His small boats were lost. His supply of fresh water was
running low. The fire that he had observed had been a fire of orgies
over mutilated men. The _St. Paul_ was on a hostile shore with such a
gale blowing as threatened destruction on the rocks. There Was nothing
to do but scud for open sea. When the gale abated, Chirikoff returned to
Sitka and cruised {50} the shore for some sign of the sailors: but not a
trace of the lost men could be descried. By this time water was so
scarce, the men were wringing rain moisture out of the sails and
distilling sea-water. A council was called. All agreed it would be
worse than folly to risk the entire crew for the twelve men, who were
probably already dead. There was no small boat to land for more water;
and the _St. Paul_ was headed about with all speed for the northwest.[3]

Slant rain settled over the sea. The wind increased and grew more
violent. The _St. Paul_ drove ahead like a ghost form pursued through a
realm of mist. Toward the end of July, when the weather cleared,
stupendous mountains covered with snow were seen on the northw