The chief was not to be balked of his purpose, and kept edging toward the door of the barabbara. "Kill-um bad mans," he muttered. "Him steal." Rob, seeing that he was bent on this, and unable to dissuade him from his certainty that the fugitive was inside the hut, for the moment scarcely knew what to do. "No touch-um mans!" he finally commanded, sternly. "White mans come here by-and-by--Uncle Sam white mans. Suppose bad mans steal; Uncle Sam catch-um. You no touch-um bad mans!" The chief hesitated, for he knew perfectly well that all the villages of this island were under control of United States law, and although the natives sometimes kept their own counsel and wreaked their own punishment on those whom they held to be offenders, they were, if detected, certain to be held to account by the United States government, which holds control over all this country to the uttermost point of the Aleutian Islands, although little enough law reaches enactment in these far-off regions. As he hesitated the chief turned away from the door, and the Aleuts now began to jabber among themselves. They pointed to the meat, and made signs that they were hungry. "_Da, karosha!_" assented Rob, who was beginning to learn Aleut from his friend John. He motioned them to help themselves. Without much more ado the natives proceeded to take off pieces of the meat from the scaffold, and drawing a little apart they built a fire. Rob observed that they used matches, and so knew that they must be in touch with civilization at least once in a while. "It's all right, Jess," said he. "We're going to get out of here sure before very long. These people can take us to the settlements any time they feel like it. I only wish we could talk more of their language or they more of ours." The Aleuts for the time did not talk much of any language, for presently their mouths were too full for speech. Each would stuff his mouth full of meat, and then with his knife cut off a piece so close to his lips as would seem to endanger his nose. "We won't have much meat wasted if they stay around," remarked John, ruefully. "For my part, I wish they'd go. It's trouble enough to take care of one native, let alone more than a dozen." The chief seemed to be actuated with some sense of fair-play, or else wished to continue in the good graces of the whites. Some of the men began to boil a kettle and to make tea. The chief picked up the bag of tea and made a gesture of inquiry of Rob. "_Chi?_" he asked. Rob shook his head, and made a motion signifying that they had but very little. The chief poured out in his hands what must have represented to him considerable value in tea. "Now ask him for salt, John," said Rob. This was too much for John's knowledge of the Aleut language. He got a little red in the face as he admitted this. "Here, you mans," he said. "You got-ums salt?" The chief shook his head.