Free The Great Alone by Janet Dailey Page A

she is, the vastness of the land she rules, and the multitudes of tribes and peoples she commands,” Chuprov instructed and waited until Luka had conveyed his message. “Tell the chief that, like the women of his village, our Tsaritsa prizes the fur of the sea otter above all others. Tell him that we have seen the abundance of sea otter in the waters around this island and that we have come to hunt them.”
    Watching the native’s hands and interpreting their motions, Luka translated their meaning. “He says it is true, the sea otter—” Luka hesitated uncertainly. “I believe he referred to the sea otter as his brother—his brother the sea otter lives in the island waters in large numbers. And the chief gives us permission to hunt them in his village’s territory.”
    “Tell him that if his hunters bring us the skins of the sea otter we will trade for them.” Chuprov indicated the array of goods displayed on a blanket behind them. The assortment ranged from necklaces of cheap beads to copper and tin utensils and some knives of poor quality.
    The Aleut leader looked over the goods with interest, then signed his reply. “He says he will tell his hunters of your offer. But that it is much work to kill a sea otter. It takes many hunters. The men in his village may bring us some skins to trade, but he says the meat of the sea otter doesn’t taste good and his hunters must hunt for food to fill the stomachs of their families.”
    “Tell him I understand.” Chuprov paused and glanced at Luka, a sly gleam appearing in his eyes. “And tell him that our Tsaritsa expects to receive a tribute from his village—a gift of ten sea otter pelts per hunter. When our boat leaves next summer, we will take his gifts to her.”
    Luka conveyed the message to the Aleut leader, fully aware that the law exacting tribute from the natives did not extend to this new land. If the tribute was collected, he suspected Chuprov would make a gesture of turning some of the pelts over to the government’s agent in Siberia, but the rest would be included in the season’s catch, and each man’s share would be worth that much more.
    There was no reaction from the chief to the attempt to elicit furs without paying for them. Instead, he changed the subject.
    “He wants to know about the boy,” Luka said.
    “Belyaev, bring him here,” Chuprov ordered. An air of expectancy settled over the natives as they watched the black-bearded hunter walk to the large wooden craft that sat on the sand well above tideline. When Belyaev came back with the youth walking freely at his side, a murmur ran through their ranks and the tension eased from their faces. Chuprov escorted the boy the last few yards to the chief. “Tell him that we have not harmed his young hunter and that we have kept his belly full.”
    “He says he is glad to see his son.” Luka stressed the last. By a stroke of luck, they had a valuable hostage.
    Chuprov smiled faintly. “Explain to the chief that we’d like to keep his son—that he is an intelligent boy.” Then he paused. “You know what to say, Luka Ivanovich. Convince him that we want his son to learn our language. Anything to keep him in our hands.”
    Surprisingly, the native leader agreed to the proposal without argument. The atmosphere on the beach became friendly. Chuprov invited the villagers to take a closer look at the trade goods on display, then drew the chief aside.
    “Tell the chief that we’d be happy to take that worthless skin-boat off his hands,” Chuprov instructed Luka. “Ask him what he would like in trade for it.”
    “The chief says the baidar is the only one his people have. If they traded it, his people wouldn’t have any way to return to their village.” Luka carefully watched the nimble movements of the man’s hands. “He says it is a long walk to his village and it’s dangerous to cut through the inland mountains. The ground often trembles and big rocks fall.”
    “Ask him to think about