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The _St. Peter_ was tossing about in frightful winds among
reefs and hurricane fog like a cork. Half the crew lay ill and
helpless of scurvy, {30} and only two months' provisions remained for a
voyage of two thousand miles. The whole crew signed the resolution to
go home.
Only twenty-five casks of water remained. On August 30 the _St. Peter_
anchored off a group of thirteen bald, bare, treeless rocks. It was
thought that if some of the scurvy-stricken sailors could be carried
ashore, they might recover. One, Shumagin, died as he was lifted
ashore. This was the first death, and his name was given to the
islands. Bering himself was so ill he could not stand. Twenty
emaciated men were laid along the shore. Steller hurried off to hunt
anti-scorbutic plants, while Waxel, who had taken command, and Khitroff
ordered the water-casks filled. Unfortunately the only pool they could
find was connected with an arm of the sea. The water was brackish, and
this afterward increased disease.
A fatality seemed to hang over the wonder world where they wandered.


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