After reading the quaint yet strong narrative of the ferocity and strength of the Kaniags which Shellikov[56] has given us, it is hard, indeed, to realize that bold pioneer’s feeling as we now look in upon the steep slopes of Three Saints Bay, where, at the head of it, within the sweep of a sand-spit, he erected the first permanent white habitation ever planted on Kadiak with the aid of the one hundred and fifty or sixty Russians who formed his company. Here, to-day, we see a cluster of sod-walled barraboras and two small, frame trading-houses, in which live one hundred and ninety of the descendants of those hardy savages who terrified and nearly annihilated the party of Shellikov one hundred years ago in this very spot. Nothing else is left, for Baranov in 1796 removed the post itself to the present site of Kadiak village. As we scan the settlement of Three Saints we notice that the most prominent object is the rough-hewn walls and thatched roof of an old Greek chapel, in front of which is a rude trestle; from the upper frame of this a bell hangs. Now a stooping figure emerges from the church door; he seizes the clapper, or bell tongue, with both hands and swings it vigorously. Promptly the villagers emerge from their huts; trotting and shambling in single file, they all troop into the chapel. Meanwhile the dusky sub-deacon still tolls and chimes away long after every inhabitant has been gathered in. These men and women who, with bowed heads and fervent crossings, bend and kneel as they enter that place of worship, are the children of the “blood-thirsty and implacable” Kaniags of whom Shellikov gave so vivid a picture to the Empress of all the Russias just a century ago. They are hunting sea-otters, however, just as they did then, and living in precisely the same manner, save the variations of outward demeanor and intercourse due to the teachings of the Greek Church. But if you go among them and strive to have them tell you of the heroic battle made by their ancestors on the Oogak “kekour,” you will be rewarded by either a stupid stare of vacancy or a muttered “Bogue ezniet” (God knows)! The deep recess of Eagle Harbor, which lies between this point of earliest Russian occupation and Kadiak village, affords the location of another large native village, and its region is called the best grazing ground in all Alaska. On the surf-beaten islets at the mouth of the inlet a great many sea-lions are always found, and thus yield to these hunters of Orlova a rich return in hides and sinews so essential for the construction of the “bidarka.” A few families of Creoles also reside here, who attend to a small herd of cattle, keep fowls, and generally look after their commissions as middlemen in the sea-otter revenues.