Part 6 (2/2)
”There was nothing further for the captain to do but watch proceedings through the gla.s.s. I was not there, of course, so can only imagine what an exciting scene it must have been, for the captain in his crow's-nest to witness that man and bear fight.
”The doctor it seems was neither tall nor strong--a thin wiry little fellow, more fit to contend with a badger than a bear. He had armed himself with his longest amputating knife, which he had tied to his wrist and hand, in such a way that it could neither slip nor be dropped.
The captain saw the bear spring upon the man and rise with him, and fall again and roll with him, and he saw the doctor plunge the knife again and again into the brute's body; then both fell and both lay still. When the men arrived it was to find Bruin dead enough, and the surgeon just breathing. He was fearfully lacerated in the back and legs, but, strange to say, he survived, and before the s.h.i.+p returned to Lerwick he was clothed and in his right mind.
”I have a great respect for my friend the Arctic bear; I cannot help admiring his immensity, his power of endurance, his wonderful swimming capabilities, and his great sagacity, which latter he shows in a hundred different ways, known only to those who have thoroughly studied the tricks and the manners of the monster.
”A Polar bear has all the cunning of a fox, all the agility of an otter, and more than the strength of the largest lion.
”The she-bear is remarkably fond of her young, but not more so, I think, than the seal is of her offspring. A seal, indeed, is at most times one of the most timid and wary animals in creation, but she will, and often does, lay down her life for her young ones. If young seals are on a piece of ice with their dams, the latter will naturally take to the water on the approach of men on the ice or in boats; but if a young one cries, or is made to cry on purpose, the mother will appear again, and, defying all danger, make towards it, paying the penalty of death for this exhibition of her maternal instinct.
”I do not think that bears actually hibernate in a dormant state; but in very bad weather they no doubt take long spells of sleep in holes under the snow, and a capital way of pa.s.sing the time it must be; if mankind could only do the same, then sleep would be the poor man's best friend.
But your Arctic bear is fond of a good nap in the suns.h.i.+ne, even in summer; I was beset for nearly two months once, some little way south and west of the island of Jan Mayen. One day, with Dana's 'Two Years Before the Mast' in my hand, and my binocular slung across my shoulder, I wandered away from the s.h.i.+p. I had neither rifle nor club, not expecting to need either. I found myself at last by the foot of a very tall hummock, composed, I daresay, of bay-ice squeezed up at some time or other and finally snowed over. I like to get on tops of eminences, and this hummock looked like a small tower of Babel in the midst of the flat and wide expanse of snow-clad ice; so up I went, and sat down to read. On looking around me presently, I noticed a yellow mark or spot on the snow some hundred or hundred and fifty yards off. On bringing my gla.s.ses to bear on it, I found it was a bear; and he was moving or wriggling. He evidently had not seen me yet, nor scented me. I had no more heart to read Dana just then. I thought the best thing I could do would be to sit still, and keep semaphoring with my right arm and Dana towards the brute; the mate was in the crow's-nest, I thought, and would be sure to notice me soon, and know something was wrong. But the mate did not notice me. The truth is the steward had taken him some coffee, with a dose of rum in it, a drink of which he was inordinately fond, and he was smacking his lips over that. I semaph.o.r.ed with my right hand until it was temporarily paralysed; then I turned quietly round and semaph.o.r.ed with my left. This change of position necessitated my looking over my shoulder to the s.h.i.+p. On again turning round I was horrified to find that Bruin was up, and evidently wondering who or what I was, and what I meant. He came closer, and stood again to look, for bears are inquisitive. I kept up my motions--there was nothing else to be done, and my heart felt as big as a bullock's. Presently the bear commenced gyrating his great head and neck, the better to scent me, I suppose; only it looked as if he was mimicking my actions. So there the pair of us kept it up for what seemed to me about five hours, though it might not have been a minute. Then Bruin quietly turned stern and shambled off.
”An old authority describes the pace of a Polar bear as equal to that of the sharp gallop of a horse. I believe a bear can spring as far as a horse can jump, or nearly, but his pace is not even half as fast, nor anything like it.
”I have eaten a great many strange things in my time, but I should be sorry indeed to have to dine off Arctic bear in the seal season.
Everybody is not so particular, however, and the Norwegians make many a hearty meal off bear-beef. I was in the cabin of a Norwegian once when they had bear for dinner. There was the captain and first and second mate at table. In the centre stood a dish with an immense hunk of boiled bear on it; by the side of it was placed a large plate of potatoes, cooked in their skins. n.o.body used a fork, only the knife; so on the whole it was a pretty sight to see them. I was asked to partake.
I begged to be excused, and to escape from the odour of the fishy-fleshy steam, I ran on deck, and lit a cigar.”
CHAPTER SEVEN.
”SPRING IS COMING:--THE STORM.--THE FAIRY FOREST: A TALE.”
”The brown buds thicken on the trees, Unbound the free streams sing, As March leads forth across the leas The wild and windy Spring.
”When in the fields the melted snow Leaves hollows warm and wet, Ere many days will sweetly blow The first blue violet.”
”I have all my life possessed such a love for nomadic adventure, that I often wondered if I have any real gipsy blood in me.”
This was a remark I made an evening or two after Frank had told us all about his friends the Arctic bears. I was looking at the fire as I spoke, as one does who is in deep thought.
”What do you see in the fire?” asked Frank.
”I see,” I replied, without removing my eyes from the crackling logs and melting sea-coal, ”I see a beautifully fitted caravan, drawn by two nice horses, jogging merrily along a lovely road, among green trees, rose-clad hedgerows and trailing wild flowers. It is a beautiful evening, the clouds in the west are all aglow with the sunset-rays. I see figures on the broad _coupe_--female figures, one, two, three; and I can almost hear the jingle of the silver bells on the horses' harness.”
”Who are the ladies--can you distinguish them?” asked Frank.
”Not quite.”
”O! I know, it's me and ma and Maggie May.” This from little Ida.
”Ida,” I said, ”your language is alliterative, but hardly grammatical.”
”Never mind about the grammar,” said Frank, laughing. ”You've got an idea of some sort in your head, so just let us have it.”
”I have it already,” cried Maggie May, springing towards me with a joy-look in her eyes, and a glad flush on her cheek. ”I dreamt it,” she added. ”The caravan is already built, and you are going to take us all gipsying when summer comes.”
<script>