Steller was among the first to land, and probably the very first of the party who discovered the mistake of the _excellent_ navigators to whom the expedition had been intrusted. Sea-otters came swimming to him from the land, and he well knew that these much-persecuted animals had long since disappeared from the coast of Kamchatka. The number of Arctic foxes, too, who showed no fear at his approach, and the sea-cows gambolling in the water, were sure signs that the foot of man had not often trodden this shore. Steller was also the first to set the good example of making the best of a bad situation, instead of uselessly bewailing his misfortunes. He began to erect a hut for the following winter, and formed an association with several of the crew, who, whatever might await them, promised to stand by each other. During the following days the sick were gradually conveyed on shore. Some of them died on board as soon as they were brought into the open air, others in the boat, others as soon as they were landed. “On all sides,” says Steller, in his interesting account of this ill-fated voyage, “nothing was to be seen but misery. Before the dead could be buried, they were mangled by the foxes, who even ventured to approach the helpless invalids who were lying without cover on the beach. Some of these wretched sufferers bitterly complained of the cold, others of hunger and thirst--for many had their gums so swollen and ulcerated with the scurvy as to be unable to eat.” “On November 13,” continues the naturalist, “I went out hunting for the first time with Messieurs Plenisner and Betge; we killed four sea-otters, and did not return before night. We ate their flesh thankfully, and prayed to God that He might continue to provide us with this excellent food. The costly skins, on the other hand, were of no value in our eyes; the only objects which we now esteemed were knives, needles, thread, ropes, etc., on which before we had not bestowed a thought. We all saw that rank, science, and other social distinctions were now of no avail, and could not in any way contribute to our preservation: we therefore resolved, before we were forced to do so by necessity, to set to work at once. We introduced among us five a community of goods, and regulated our housekeeping in such a manner as not to be in want before the winter was over. Our three Cossacks were obliged to obey our orders, when we had decided upon something in common; but we began to treat them with greater politeness, calling them by their names and surnames, and we soon found that Peter Maximowitsch served us with more alacrity than formerly Petrucha (a diminutive of Peter).