Part 39 (1/2)

All gazed around them. To the east and west, as well as the south, lay the long stretches of snow and ice. Northward were the same ice and snow, with numerous leads of clear, bluish water.

”There is our camp,” said the explorer, pointing to some dark objects in the distance.

”How far is it?” asked Chet.

”I can't say exactly. Probably two miles. Distances are very deceiving in this atmosphere.”

”There is that lead of water we must have followed yesterday,” said Andy, pointing.

”Yes,” answered Barwell Dawson. ”We won't go back that way, though--we'll try the route over yonder.”

They were soon down the hill again, and making for the spot where they had left the polar bear. Resuming the load, they struck off as best they could in the direction of the camp.

About half the distance had been covered when they found themselves quite unexpectedly on the edge of some ”young” ice,--that is, ice recently frozen. It did not seem safe, and Barwell Dawson decided to turn back, in the direction of the route they had followed when leaving camp. This brought them to the lead of the day previous, and they were surprised to note that the water was much wider than before.

”The ice must be moving,” said Barwell Dawson. ”I think the sooner we get back to camp the better.”

They had a small hill of ice before them, and started to skirt this.

Andy was in the lead, and as he pa.s.sed a rise of ice and snow, he heard a sudden roar that made him jump.

”What was that?” he cried, in alarm.

”A walrus!” answered Barwell Dawson. ”And close at hand, too. Get your guns ready, boys!”

CHAPTER XXV

CROSSING THE GREAT LEAD

In less than a quarter of a minute more they came in sight of the walrus, stretched out on the ice close to the lead. It was a large specimen, weighing a good many hundred pounds, and as awkward as it was heavy.

At the sight of the man and boys the beast raised itself up slightly and started as if to turn back into the water. As it did this, Barwell Dawson raised the rifle, took steady aim, and sent a bullet through its head.

”That's a fine shot!” exclaimed Andy as the walrus fell back, uttering a roar of pain. ”Shall I give it another?”

”Might as well,” was the explorer's answer, and the lad quickly complied, the shot scattering into the walrus's head, killing it almost instantly.

Scarcely had the echo of the discharge penetrated the air, when there came a number of loud roars from a little further around the icy hill.

The hunters advanced, and Chet uttered a yell:

”Look! look! Did you ever see so many walruses in your life!”

He pointed ahead, but there was no need to do this, for all saw, only a couple of hundred feet away, a veritable herd of walruses numbering at least a hundred if not twice that number. They had heard the death-cry of their mate, and were lumbering forward to see what was the matter.

”We can't fight such a crowd as that!” exclaimed Andy, aghast. ”We had better clear out.”

”I wish the Esquimaux were here,” returned Barwell Dawson. ”We could make a mighty haul of walrus meat, and that is what we need.” He looked at the boys. ”Who is the better runner of you two?” he asked.

”Andy,” answered Chet, promptly. ”He can outrun me twice over.”