But
water was becoming a desperate need. To stay cooped up in the hut was
to be forced into surrender. Their only chance was to risk all by a
dash from the island. Dark was gathering. Through the shadowy dusk
watched the Aleuts; but the pointed muskets of the two wounded men kept
hostiles beyond distance of spear-tossing, while the other two Russians
destroyed what they could not carry away, hauled down their skin boat
to the water loaded with provisions, ammunition, and firearms, then
under guard of levelled pistols, pulled off in the darkness across the
sea, heaving and thundering to the night tide.
But the sea was the lesser danger. Once away from the enemy, the four
fugitives pulled for dear life {94} across the tumbling waves--ten
miles the way they went, one account says--to the main shore of
Oonalaska. It was pitch dark. When they reached the shore, they could
neither hear nor see a sign of life; but the moss trail through the
snows had probably become well beaten to the ship by this time--four
months from Drusenin's landing--or else the fugitives found their way
by a kind of desperation; for before daybreak they had run within
shouting distance of the second detachment of hunters stationed at
Kalekhta.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135