"Oh, you will, will you?" snorted Fraser, indignantly. "So, after me getting well on purpose to make this trip, you want to dump me here with this fat man. I'll stand as much as anybody, but I won't stand for no deal like that. No, sir! You said I could go, and I'm going. Why, I'd rather drown than stick in this burgh with that greasy Russian porpoise. Gee! this is a shine village." "Then take your medicine like a man, and quit kicking." "If you prefer to swallow your groans, you do it. I like to make a fuss when I suffer. I enjoy it more that way." Again Petellin called them at daylight, and they were off; this time with better success, for the waves had abated sufficiently for them to venture beyond the partial shelter of the bay. All three knew the desperate chance they were taking, and they spoke little as they made their way out into the Straits. Their craft was strange to them, and the positions they were forced to occupy soon brought on cramped muscles. The bidarka is a frail, narrow framework over which is stretched walrus skin, and it is so fashioned that the crew sits, one behind the other, in circular openings with legs straight out in front. To keep themselves dry each man had donned a native water garment--a loose, hooded shirt manufactured from the bladders of seals. These shirts--or kamlikas, as they are called--are provided with draw-strings at wrists, face, and bottom, so that when the skirt is stretched over the rim of the cockpit and corded tight, it renders the canoe well-nigh waterproof, even though the decks are awash. The whole contrivance is peculiarly aboriginal and unsuited to the uses of white men; and, while unusually seaworthy, the bidarka requires more skill in the handling than does a Canadian birch bark, hence the wits of the three travellers were taxed to the utmost.