52 HUNTING IN THE ARCTIC 



During the afternoon three sailboats hove in sight, 

 a few miles off the coast. Two of them were taken in tow 

 of om* vessel at once, and with one we held converse. 

 The bow man spoke English, and as he tended the walrus- 

 hide tow line, told us they had killed three walrus in the 

 neighborhood. The meat of two was in their boat, 

 and presently we came up with the seal-skin float which 

 marked the third. Jimmie said they spoke "nearly 

 Japanese." He could not understand them in Eskimo. 

 The Japanese cook looked on them with disdain. These 

 natives were Chukchi. 



"You make good trade?" inquired their spokesman. 



"Yes," replied Kleinschmidt. And while we were 

 meditating what rare values we might get from the 

 innocent native he asked, 



"How much whalebone a pound gold in Nome?" 



"About ninety cents," was Kleinschmidt's answer. 



This caused some consultation in the whaleboat. 

 Thinking to make the quotation understood, Kleinschmidt 

 held up a silver dollar. 



"You sabe dollar?" he asked. 



"Me sabe; yes." 



Kleinschmidt made as if to tear a small piece out of 

 it. "Not dollar; ninety cents!" he explained. 



"Oh, yes; me sabe ninety cents," the man replied; 

 and continued, "How much for walrus ivory?" 



But about this time the Chukchi cast off from us and 

 went to the float of the remaining walrus, which had 

 already been skinned. 



The wind had forced us, in order to use our sails, to 

 head somewhat eastward of our course, and as we ap- 

 proached the Siberian coast it was seen that we had to 

 turn and crawl toilsomely against the light breeze for 



