Part 46 (1/2)
Gera.s.senoff is now serving a life-sentence in the government penitentiary on McNeil's Island; the man he murdered lies in an unmarked grave; the girl--for the story has its touch of awful humor!--the girl married another man within a twelvemonth.
There is a persistent invitation at Sand Point to the swimmer. The temptation to sink down, down, through those translucent depths, and then to rise and float lazily with the jelly-fishes, is almost irresistible. There is a seductive, languorous charm in the slow curve of the waves, as though they reached soft arms and wet lips to caress.
There are more beautiful waters along the Alaskan coast, but none in which the very spirit of the swimmer seems so surely to dwell.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI
Belkoffski! There was something in the name that attracted my attention the first time I heard it; and my interest increased with each mile that brought it nearer. It is situated on the green and sloping sh.o.r.es of Pavloff Bay, which rise gradually to hills of considerable height.
Behind it smokes the active volcano, Mount Pavloff, with whose ashes the hills are in places gray, and whose fires frequently light the night with scarlet beauty.
The _Dora_ anch.o.r.ed more than a mile from sh.o.r.e, and when the boat was lowered we joyfully made ready to descend. We were surprised that no one would go ash.o.r.e with us. Important duties claimed the attention of officers and pa.s.sengers; yet they seemed interested in our preparations.
”Won't you come ash.o.r.e with us?” we asked.
”No, I thank you,” they all replied, as one.
”Have you ever been ash.o.r.e here?”
”Oh, yes, thank you.”
”Isn't it interesting, then?”
”Oh, very interesting, indeed.”
”There is something in their manner that I do not like,” I whispered to my companion. ”What do you suppose is the matter with Belkoffski.”
”Smallpox, perhaps,” she whispered back.
”I don't care; I'm going.”
”So am I.”
”What kind of place is Belkoffski?” I asked one of the sailors who rowed us ash.o.r.e.
He grinned until it seemed that he would never again be able to get his mouth shut.
”Jou vill see vot kind oof a blace it ees,” he replied luminously.
”Is it not a nice place, then?”
”Jou vill see.”
We did see.
The tide was so low and the sh.o.r.e so rocky that we could not get within a hundred yards of any land. A sailor named ”Nelse” volunteered to carry us on his back; and as nothing better presented itself for our consideration, we promptly and joyfully went pick-a-back.
This was my most painful experience in Alaska. My father used to make stirrups of his hands; but as Nelse did not offer, diffidence kept me from requesting this added gallantry of him. It was well that I went first; for after viewing my friend's progress sh.o.r.eward, had I not already been upon the beach, I should never have landed at Belkoffski.
For many years Belkoffski was the centre of the sea-otter trade. This small animal, which has the most valuable fur in the world, was found only along the rock sh.o.r.es of the Aliaska Peninsula and the Aleutian Islands. The Shumagins and Sannak islands were the richest grounds.