Heaving
out all anchors at once, Chirikoff with difficulty made fast to rocky
bottom. In the morning, when the fog lifted, he found himself in the
centre of a shallow bay surrounded by the towering cliffs of what is now
known as Adakh Island. While waiting for a breeze, he saw seven canoe
loads of savages put out from shore chanting some invocation. The
Russians threw out presents, but the savages took no notice, gradually
surrounding the _St. Paul_. All this time Chirikoff had been without any
water but the stale casks brought from Kamchatka; and he now signalled
his desperate need to the Indians. They responded by bringing bladders
full of fresh water; but they refused to mount the decks. And by evening
fourteen canoe loads of the taciturn savages were circling threateningly
round the Russians. Luckily, {52} at nightfall a wind sprang up.
Chirikoff at once slipped anchor and put to sea.
By the third week of August, the rations of rye meal had been reduced to
once a day instead of twice in order to economize water. Only twelve
casks of water remained; and Chirikoff was fifteen hundred miles from
Kamchatka.
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