My natives were extremely fond of bear meat, and they sat long into the night gorging themselves.  Each one would dig into the kettle with his fork, and bringing out a big chunk would crowd as much as possible into his mouth, and holding it there with his teeth would cut off with his hunting knife a liberal portion, which he would swallow after a munch or two.

I had tried to eat Kadiak bear before, but it has rather a bitter taste, and this one was too tough to be appetizing.  The flesh of the bears which we had killed on the Alaska Peninsula was excellent and without this strong gamy flavor.[5]

[Footnote 5:  The true Kadiak bear is found only on the Kadiak Islands and not on the mainland.]

The next morning we made an early start, for to save this large skin I had decided to push on with all haste to the little settlement of Afognak, where I had arranged to meet my friend some days later.  It was a beautiful morning, and once more we had a favoring breeze.  Some forty miles across Shelikoff Straits was the Alaskan shore.  The rugged, snow-clad mountains seemed to be softened when seen through the hazy blue atmosphere.  One white-capped peak boldly pierced a line of clouds and stood forth against the pale blue of the sky beyond; while the great Douglas Glacier, ever present, wound its way down, down to the very sea.  It was all grandly beautiful, and seemed In keeping with the day.

We paddled steadily, stopping only once for tea, and at six o’clock that evening were back at the little fishing hamlet of Malina Place.  Here I was asked to drink tea with a man whom my hunters told me had killed many bears on these islands.

This man said that at times there were no bears on Shuyak, and that again they were there in great numbers, showing that they freely swim from Afognak across the straits, which, at the narrowest point, are some three miles wide.

[Illustration:  BAIDARKA.]

While I was having tea in one of the barabaras I heard much shooting outside, which announced the return of a sea otter party that had been hunting for two months at Cape Douglas.  It was a beautiful sight, this fleet of twenty odd baidarkas, the paddles all rising and falling in perfect time, and changing sides without a break.  There is nothing more graceful than one of these canoes when handled by expert Aleuts.  These natives had already come forty miles that day, and were now going to stop only long enough for tea, and then push on to the little settlement of Afognak Place, some twenty-five miles away, where most of them lived.  In one of the canoes I saw a small chap of thirteen years.  He was the chief’s son, and already an expert in hunting and in handling the baidarka.  So is the Aleut hunter trained.

As it had been a very warm day I feared that the skin might spoil.  Therefore I concluded to continue to Afognak Place without camping for the night, and so we paddled on and on.  As darkness came, the mountains seemed to rise grander and more majestic from the water on either side of us.  At midnight we again stopped for tea, and while we sat by the fire the host of baidarkas of the sea otter party silently glided by like shadows.  We joined them, for my men had much to tell of their four months with the white hunter, and many questions were asked on both sides.