For a moment Rob, John, and Jesse stood looking after the natives as they hastened toward the beach. Their first thought was one of relief for the present at least; the prisoner in the hut remained unmolested. Then their curiosity as to the cause of all the excitement led them to forget everything else.

“Come on!” called Rob; and in an instant they were hurrying to join the scene of confusion which now was enacting on the beach.

As they reached the top of the sea-wall they saw for the first time the full party of natives, not more than half of whom had come over to the camp. More than thirty bidarkas lay pulled up along the beach, most of them two-hatch boats. To these boats the natives were now hastening; indeed, some of them had already launched their bidarkas and were paddling back and forth, as much at home on the water as on the land. With much shouting and gesticulation, one after another bidarka joined these, the hunter in each hurriedly casting off the lashings of his harpoon which lay along deck.

At first the boys could see no reason for all this hurry, but as they gazed out across the bay all at once there arose in plain sight of all a vast black bulk which at once they knew to be a whale. The white spray of its spouting was blown forty feet into the air as it moved slowly and majestically onward deeper into the bay. It was plain that the natives meant to attack this monster in their fleet of bidarkas.

The old Aleut chief saw the boys as they came up. He motioned hurriedly to Rob as he ran to his own bidarka, grinning as though he hardly expected Rob to accept the invitation to come and join the hunt. Not so, however; for Rob was so much excited that he did not stop to think of danger. As the chief thrust the long, narrow craft into the water, steadying it with his paddle, Rob sprang in behind the rear hatch. In an instant they were off!

Rob looked around to see Jesse and John both crowded together in the rear hatch of yet another bidarka, where they did what they could to help a swarthy boatman to propel their craft. Rob noticed now that each hunter had his paddles, his harpoon, and his arrows marked in a certain way with red-and-black paint, so that they could not be mistaken for the property of any one else. All the hunters made ready their gear for the chase as they paddled on, perfectly assured and apparently not in the least anxious about the result of the hunt.

The other boats held back until the chief had taken his place at the head of the procession. It now became plain that his was the task of using the mysterious nogock, over whose loss he had seemed so concerned. Even as his bidarka shot forward with its own momentum, he drew out from the forward hatch this sacred instrument and fitted to it the short harpoon. He made over the weapon some mysterious passes with one hand, and as he fitted the harpoon or heavy dart to the throwing-stick he blew three times on the point of it, passing his fingers along the edge. Finally he held the weapon up toward the sky and uttered some loud words in his strange tongue. Having completed these ceremonies, he placed the nogock and harpoon crosswise on the deck in front of him and bent again to his paddle. Rob himself, no bad canoeman, had meantime been paddling as though he quite understood what was expected of him.

The head bidarka now passed steadily and swiftly on toward the great bulk of the whale, which lay plainly visible not more than a quarter of a mile away. As the other boats came on in squadron close behind, Rob could hear a sort of low, rhythmic humming, as though all the natives were joining in an incantation. It was his privilege to see one of the native hunts for the whale in all its original features—something which few white men have ever seen. The strange excitement of the scene, so many savage hunters all bent upon one purpose, and evidently using every means to screw their courage to the sticking-point, did not lack its effect upon the young adventurers who found themselves, with so little preparation or intent, swept on in this wild scene.

Once in a while Rob cast his eye about to see how his friends were prospering. Jesse looked a little pale, yet both he and John were eager. Crowded as they were both in one hatch, they could not paddle to much effect, but the native in the bow managed to keep his place in the procession. The first thought of Rob was that it was absolute folly to think of killing so great a creature with the insignificant weapons which he now saw ready for use.

As the chief began to approach the great whale more closely, he slowed down the speed, creeping cautiously onward at times when his instinct told him his boat was least apt to be discovered by the whale. The latter seemed ignorant or careless of the approach. Now and again it blew a vast spout of water into the air, and sometimes it rolled and half lifted its vast bulk free of the water, until it seemed larger than a house. The humming chorus of the Aleuts continued, but fell to a lower note as the boats drew near.

For what seemed an interminable time the bidarka of the headman lay silent, trembling and heaving on the swell of the choppy sea, while the huntsman sat steadily and studied the giant quarry in front of him. Once or twice he gently turned the prow of the bidarka, using the least possible motion. Again, a few feet at a time, he would edge it on in, pausing and crawling forward, his hand motioning back to Rob to be quiet and steady.

Now the Aleut showed at his best. There was no fear or agitation in his conduct. Without hesitation he gazed intently at the dark, glistening bulk in front of him, apparently hunting for the exact spot which he wished to strike—a point about a third of the way back from the angle of the jaw. The whale itself seemed to be stupid, as though sleepy, although now and again it rolled slowly from side to side as though uneasy.

Like a cat the huntsman crept in and in toward his prey, scarce more than an inch at a time, till at last Rob saw the boat reach a point where the body of the whale seemed to tower above their heads.

Finally the hand of the chief was raised to signal Rob to stop paddling.

With his own paddle in his left hand clinched against the rim of the bidarka hatch, the chief with his right hand slowly and deliberately raised the nogock and its slate-tipped harpoon. His arm, extended at full length and quite rigid, passed now in a straight line above his head and slightly back of his shoulder. Rob, intent on all these matters, saw the native’s thumb and fingers whiten in the intensity of their grip on the butt of the nogock; yet the middle finger lay light and gentle, just holding in place the slender shaft of the harpoon, whose slate head, blue and cold, extended down and in front of the throwing hand.

Still the chief poised and waited until the exact spot he wished to strike was exposed as the whale rolled slowly toward the right. Then suddenly, with a sighing hiss of his breath, the dark huntsman leaned swiftly forward. The motion of his hand was so swift the eye could scarcely follow it.

After that all that Rob could tell was that he was in the bidarka speeding swiftly away from a churning mass of white water, in the middle of which a vast black form was rolling. He heard a sort of hoarse roar or expiration of the breath of the stricken monster. Once he thought he caught sight of the slender shaft of the harpoon, which in truth was buried, head and all, eighteen inches or more deep in the side of the whale, the point passing entirely through the blubber and into the red meat of the body. Although Rob did not know it, the shaft did not long remain attached. The struggles of the whale broke off the slate-head at a point near to the shaft, where it was cunningly made thinner in order that it might break. A foot or fifteen inches of the slate-head remained buried deep in the body of the whale. The nogock had done its work!

A loud chant now broke from all the boatmen, who joined the head bidarka, all backing away from the struggling whale. To the surprise of Rob, no further effort was made to launch a harpoon, and he saw that the presence of these other boats was rather intended as a part of the ceremony than as an actual assistance in the hunt, the savage mind here, as elsewhere, taking delight in surrounding itself with certain mummeries.

As Rob gazed back of him to watch the struggle of the whale, he saw the sea gradually becoming quiet. The giant black form was gone, the whale having sounded, or dived far below the surface.

“Plenty sick now,” said the chief, sententiously, motioning toward the spot where the whale had disappeared. Then all at once he gave a loud whoop and started paddling toward the shore, followed by the entire fleet of bidarkas, all the occupants of which were singing joyously. Rob could not in the least understand all this, for it seemed to him the hunt had met with failure; but there seemed to be some system about it, for nothing but satisfaction marked the faces of the hunters as they finally drew up their bidarkas again upon the beach.

“Maybe so two—tree day, him die now,” said the chief, at last. Rob did not even then understand what he later found to be the truth: that what the Aleut really does with his slate harpoon-head is not to kill the whale with the wound, but to poison it. If the stone harpoon-head passes through the blubber and into the red meat the wound is sure to fester, and in the course of a few days to kill the whale, which then floats ashore somewhere and is discovered by the waiting hunters.

There continued some sort of system in this hunt, even though it was now arrested for the time. Men kept an eye out on the bay, where in a few moments the whale arose, spouting madly, and once more stirring the water into foam. Swimming on the surface, it then took a long, straight run apparently for the mouth of the bay. The chief gave some hurried command, and a dozen boats shot out, whether to head it or to watch it Rob could not tell, for presently the whale once more sounded, and when it next arose it was deeper into the bay. The situation now seemed to please the old hunter.

“Maybe so him stay here now,” he said, briefly, though why he thought so Rob could not tell.

No one made any attempt to pursue the whale after that. The chief, carefully wiping off the sacred nogock, again wrapped it up in its coverings, made some mysterious passes over it, and restored it to its place in his bidarka, whence, as Rob now began to understand, the guilty Jimmy had some time since stolen it.

As the boys met on the beach it must be confessed they were not thinking of their prisoner or his fate. In their excitement they were chattering to one another about the hunt, which they all agreed was the wildest and most peculiar one they had ever seen or heard of.

“You had the best of it all, Rob,” said John, enviously. “Our man wouldn’t row up any closer. My, that old whale must have looked big from where you were!”

“Well, he did, a little bit,” admitted Rob, who had lost his cap somewhere and was now bare-headed.

“That beats bear-hunting,” said Jesse, “even although we haven’t got our game yet.”

“They say he’ll come ashore maybe in two or three days,” said Rob. “Meanwhile, I suppose these natives will hang around here and wait. If they do get him, it’s very likely they’ll squat down here to eat him up, and that would take all summer! I must confess I don’t like the look of it very much.”

“And there’s Jimmy—” began John.

“That’s so! We must go and see about him.”

Quietly they edged their way out of the excited throng of natives and hurried across the sea-wall to the barabbara. Opening the door they peered cautiously in. No motion met their gaze, and although they called several times in a low tone there was no response. Passing into the barabbara they searched every corner of it. No doubt remained—their late prisoner was gone!