ALASKA. 61 



watermen. A party of fifteen or twenty bidarkies, with two 

 men ill each, as a rule, all under the control of a chief elected 

 by common consent, start out in pleasant weather, or when it 

 is not too rough, and spread themselves out in a long line, 

 slowly paddling over the waters where sea-otters are most 

 usually found. When any one of them discovers an otter, 

 asleep, most likely, in the water, he makes a quiet signal, and 

 there is not a word spoken or a paddle splashed while they are 

 on the hunt. He darts toward the animal, but generally the 

 alarm is taken by the sensitive object, which instantly dives 

 before the Aleut can get near enough to throw his spear. The 

 hunter, liowever, keeps right on, and stops his canoe directly 

 over the spot where the otter disappeared. The others, taking 

 note of the position, all deploy and scatter in a circle of half a 

 mile wide around the mark of departure thus made, and pa- 

 tiently wait for the re-appearance of the otter, which must take 

 place within fifteen or thirty minutes for breath ; and as soon 

 as this happens the nearest one to it darts forward in the same 

 manner as his predecessor, when all hands shout and throw 

 their spears, to make the animal dive again as quickly as pos- 

 sible, thus giving it scarcely an instant to recover itself. A 

 sentry is placed over its second diving-wake as before, and the 

 circle is drawn anew; and the surprise is often repeated, some- 

 times for two or three hours, until the sea-otter, from inter- 

 rupted respiration, becomes so filled with air or gases that he 

 cannot sink, and becomes at once an easy victim. 



The coolness with which these Aleuts will go far out to sea in 

 their cockle-shell kyacks, and risk the approach of gales that 

 are as apt to be against them as not, with a mere handful of 

 food and less water, is remarkable. They are certainly as hardy 

 a set of hunters, patient and energetic, as can be found in the 

 world. 



The clubbing is only done in the winter-season, and then at 

 infrequent intervals, which occur when tremendous gales of 

 wind from the northward, sweeping down over Saanach, have 

 about blown themselves out. The natives, the very boldest of 

 them, set out from Saanach, and scud down on the tail of the 

 gale to the far outlying rocks, just sticking out above surf- wash, 

 where they creep up from the leeward to the sea-otters found 

 there at such times, with their heads stuck into the beds of kelp 

 to avoid the wind. The noise of the gale is greater than that 

 made by the stealthy movements of the hunters, who, armed 



