At Ghijiga I made a short voyage in a baydara. The frame appeared very
fragile, and the seal skin covering displayed several leaks. I was
unwilling to risk myself twenty feet from land, but after putting me
ashore the Koriak boatman pulled fearlessly into the bay.

The Chukchee trader has a crew of his own race to paddle his light
canoe. Occasionally the baydaras are caught in storms and must be
lightened. I have the authority of Major Abasa that in such case the
merchant keeps his cargo and throws overboard his crew. Goods and furs
are costly, but men are cheap and easily replaced. The crew is
entirely reconciled to the state of affairs, and drowns itself with
that resignation known only to pagans.

"But," I asked, "do not the men object to this kind of jettison?"

"I believe not," was the major's reply; "they are only discharging
their duty to their employer. They go over the side just as they would
step from an over-laden sledge."

[Illustration: DISCHARGING A DECK LOAD.]

I next inquired if the trader did not first throw out the men to whom
he was most indebted, but could not obtain information on that point.
It is probable that with an eye to business he disposes promptly of
his creditors and keeps debtors to the last. What a magnificent system
of squaring accounts!

The Chukchees have mingled much with whalemen along Anadyr Bay and the
Arctic Ocean, and readily adopt the white man's vices. They drink
whisky without fear, and will get very drunk if permitted. When