The Winter Night. 285 



"Wednesday, December I3th. Before I was rightly 

 awake this morning- I heard the dogs ' at it ' stiil, and 

 the noise went on all the time of breakfast, and had, I 

 believe, gone on all night. After breakfast Mogstad 

 and Peter went up to feed the wretched creatures and 

 let them loose on the ice. Three were still missing. 



e> 



Peter came down to get a lantern ; he thought he 

 might as well look if there were any tracks of animals. 

 Jacobsen called after him that he had better take a 

 gun. No, he did not need one, he said. A little later, 

 as I was sitting sorrowfully absorbed in the calculation 

 of how much petroleum we have used, and how short 

 a time our supply will last if we go on burning it at 

 the same rate, I heard a scream at the top of the com- 

 panion. ' Come with a gun.' In a moment I was in 

 the saloon, and there was Peter tumbling in at the door, 

 breathlessly shouting, ' A gun ! a gun ! ' The bear had 

 bitten him in the side. I was thankful that it was no 

 worse, hearing him put on so much dialect* I had 

 thought it was a matter of life and death. I seized 

 one gun, he another, and up we rushed, the mate 

 with his gun after us. There was not much diffi- 

 culty in knowing in what direction to turn, for from 

 the rail on the starboard side came confused shouts 

 of human voices, and from the ice below the gangway 

 the sound of a frightful uproar of dogs. I tore out the 



* He says " ei borsja " for " a gun " instead of " en bosse." 



