224 KAMSCHATKA. [chap. 



Long before the huge paw had descended in a futile effort at 

 revenge the little rascal was safely under cover, on the look-out for 

 another opportunity, and the bear might just as well have attempted 

 to catch a mosquito. A more thorough little pickle never existed, 

 but, like all pickles, he was very popular, and when one morning he 

 disappeared never to return there was great lamentation among our 

 men. We never learnt his fate. Probably Misky had caught his 

 tormentor after many months of vain endeavour, and had dined 

 off him. 



We left Petropaulovsky on September 26th with the inten- 

 tion of visiting the coast towards Cape Lopatka. Even as far 

 south as Avatcha Bay the nights had become bitterly cold, and 

 warned us to take our departure if we meant to avoid the heavy 

 gales that visit these latitudes at the onset of winter. We steamed 

 out of the harbour over a sea so calm that the glare of golden light 

 which lit up the western sky was reflected in its surface as in a 

 mirror. Never had the bay and its grand volcanoes looked more 

 beautiful, and we stood watching the blaze of colour fading over 

 the yellow birch-clad hills and the lonely pyramids of snow beyond 

 until the last ray of daylight had disappeared and the full moon 

 had turned the landscape to a harmony in black and silver. 



Next morning a thick fog hid the coast from view, but cleared 

 as the sun got up, and we were able to pick up our position. About 

 noon we found ourselves off an island abreast of the Itterna 

 Volcano, and steaming into a bay close by, we scanned the coast 

 for signs of a sea-otter-hunters' village, of whose existence we had 

 heard through Afanasi. Not a trace of it was to be seen, and we 

 were beginning to think that we had misinterpreted our directions 

 when a couple of little canoes shot out from behind a point and 

 paddled towards us at a great rate. As these neared the ship we 

 saw that they were built somewhat on the model of a Greenlander's 

 kayach, although not broader than the narrowest of Thames cedar- 

 wood canoes. How they can live in any ordinary sea is little short 

 of miraculous, but we afterwards learnt from the people that two 



