ed from his bed to the deck, revived by the sight of what seemed to be friendly land, and in such fashion as they could they celebrated their "happy return."
But though the land they found was very different from the Aleutian islands, and bore no volcano at its summit, they could not recognize it, nor did they find it hospitable. Medni island is a narrow backbone of rock, shaped like a crosscut saw, with wild cliffs and great reefs, over which the surf breaks on the deep green waves. There were no inhabitants, no harbors, no landing places, and the winds came down in wild gusts or "wil- lie-waugs" from the snow-covered craggy heights. A storm carried away their mainsail, and as they drifted along, to the northward, the island came to an end in a cluster of jagged rocks. So it could not be Kamchatka. Their joy gave way to direst distress. The sailors broke out in mutiny. Nobody cared for the ship. It drifted on to the west with the gentle wind beating against a little sail at its foremast, but the ship with neither helmsman nor commander.
Soon another island loomed up before them, a shore of great flat-topped mountains, ending in huge black vertical cliffs at the sea. In a clear night they came to anchor in a little bay to the north of a black promoncory now called Tolstoi Mys, the thick cape. In the great surf "the ship was tossed like a ball," the cable of their anchor snapped, and the vessel came near being crushed on the jagged rocks of the shore.
In the morning they landed in the lit- tle sandy bay north of Tolstoi, and set out in search for inhabitants. They found none, for Bering's men were the first who ever set foot on the twin Storm islands. The little bay was surrounded by high craggy steeps, without trees, overgrown by dense moss, and cut by swift brooks. The sailors, under Steller's direction, built a house in the sand, and covered it with driftwood and turf, and made its walls of the carcasses of the foxes they had killed for their skins. Everywhere swarmed the little foxes, blue foxes and white foxes, Eichkao and all his hungry family, and those of the sailors who died were devoured almost before they could be buried. Other little huts they made
of driftwood and foxes, their floors dug out of the sand.
Then Commander Bering, still helpless, was placed in one of these. The vessel, when he had left it, was beached by a storm, and the crew dragged it up into the sand, where it could be all winter. The blue fox, the most greedy and selfish of animals, hung around the camp all winter, attacking the sick and devouring the dead, almost before the eyes of their friends. Of the 77, 31 died, among them Bering himself. "He was," Steller said, "buried alive; the sand kept constantly rolling down upon him from the sides of the pit and covered his feet. At first this was removed, but finally he asked that it might remain, as it furnished him a little of the warmth he so sorely need- ed. Soon half his body was under the sand, and his comrades had to dig him out to give him a decent burial."
So perished the great commander at the age of 60 years. The island where he died has ever since then been called Bering island. The two great "Storm islands," Bering and Medni, or Copper island, have been called for him, Komandorski, the Islands of the Commander, and the great icy sea is known as Bering sea. And his life and work, says Lauridsen, will ever stand as "living testimony of what northern perseverance is able to accomplish, even with the most humble means." In the spring of 1742 Steller and the rest made of the wreck oi the St. Peter an open boat, in which they traversed the 150 miles of the icy sea between Bering island and Petropaulski, and we need not follow them further.
But their stay on Bering island is forever famous for the discovery of the "four great beasts" of the sea, on the account of which Steller's fame as a naturalist largely rests. These were the sea cow, the sea otter, the sealion and the sea bear.
In the giant kelp which grows on all the sunken reefs, like a great tawny mane, the sea cow had her home. A huge, blundering, harmless beast, feeding on kelp, shaped like a whale in body, but with a cow-like head, a split upper lip and a homely, amiable appearance, as befits a beast of great ugliness who lives
