66 HUNTING THE SEA OTTER. 



an emergency, was almost an impossibility, and, to make 

 things worse, night was fast closing in. As to ourselves, 

 the wind had grown bitterly cold, piercing our wet things 

 like a knife; and, without provisions, a night in the boats 

 was anything but pleasant to contemplate. So it was 

 deemed advisable, though the sea looked very ugly, to 

 attempt to reach the vessel, as the rough weather might 

 not improve. This we accomplished in safety, after a 

 long, hard pull, just as the daylight began to fail, and 

 a glass of grog, dry clothes, and a little rifle cleaning 

 soon made us comfortable. It was decided, however, 

 both for the safety of the ship and comfort in the boats, 

 to leave the steersmen aboard, the hunters taking their 

 places and shooting from the stern. This was found to 

 suit Baker very well, as there is always much to be 

 done in a vessel, independent of the work of cleaning 

 and scraping otter skins ; moreover, while in the boats, 

 the hunter always erect could readily fire over the rowers' 

 heads, and, the boats being less down in the head, the men 

 could pull better and were less exposed to getting wet. 



Two hours after boarding, a dense fog settled down over 

 us, and the wind died away almost as suddenly as it had 

 arisen, leaving us at the mercy of the tide-rip, which 

 literally roared round us. This state of things lasted 

 until four o'clock in the following afternoon, and we 

 groped about purposeless for want of a wind. Once 

 we were nearly ashore, fortunately we had plenty of 

 water under us close up to the cliffs, and we got about 

 in time, but none too soon. When the fog lifted, a strong 

 south-easterly breeze sprang up, enabling us to run into 

 Hitokatpu or Jap Bay, opposite to which we had drifted, 

 and the anchor was dropped for the night close to another 

 vessel, which turned out to be the Flying Mist, of San 

 Francisco. After making everything snug for the night, 

 we were boarded by the skipper, Captain Beckwith, a 

 very jolly old fellow, who told us that he had been on 

 the hunting ground since May loth, and had secured 



