{88} kidnapped to lifelong slavery; the very basic, brute
instincts of his nature tantalized, baited, tortured to dare!

It was from January to September of 1762, that Pushkareff had run his
mad course of outrage on Oonalaska Island. It was in September of the
same year, that four other Russian ships, all unconscious of the
reception Pushkareff's evil doings had prepared for them, left
Kamchatka for the Aleutian Islands. Each of the ships was under a
commander who had been to the islands before and dealt fairly by the
Indians.

Betshevin's ship with Pushkareff, the Cossack, reached Kamchatka
September 25. On the 6th there had come to winter at the harbor a ship
under the same Alexei Drusenin, who had met Pushkareff the year before
on the way to Oonalaska. Drusenin was outward bound and must have
heard the tales told of Pushkareff's crew; but the latter had brought
back in all nearly two thousand otter,--half sent by Drusenin, half
brought by himself,--and Oonalaska became the lodestar of the otter
hunters. The spring of '63 found Drusenin coasting the Aleutians.
Sure enough, others had heard news of the great find of the new
hunting-grounds. Three other Russian vessels were on the grounds
before him, Glottoff and Medvedeff at Oomnak, Korovin halfway up
Oonalaska. No time for Drusenin to lose! A spy sent out came back
with the report that every part of Oomnak and {89} Oonalaska was being
thoroughly hunted except the extreme northeast, where the mountain
spurs of Oonalaska stretch out in the sea like a hand. Up to the
northeast end, then, where the tide-rip thunders up the rock wall like
an inverted cataract, posts Drusenin where he anchors his ship in
Captain Harbor, and has winter quarters built before snow-fall of '63.

An odd thing was--the Indian chiefs became so very friendly they
voluntarily brought hostages of good conduct to Drusenin. Surely
Drusenin was in luck! The best otter-hunting grounds in the world! A
harbor as smooth as glass, mountain-girt, sheltered as a hole in a
wall, right in the centre of the hunting-grounds, yet shut off from the
rioting north winds that shook the rickety vessels to pieces! And best
of all, along the sandy shore between the ship and the mountains that
receded inland tier on tier into the clouds--the dome-roofed,
underground dwellings of two or three thousand native hunters ready to
risk the surf of the otter hunt at Drusenin's beck! Just to make sure
of safety aft