The Winter Night. 289 



lantern-light. Flesh and skin and entrails were gone ; 

 there was nothing to be seen but a bare breast and back- 

 bone, with some stumps of ribs. It was a pity that the 

 fine strong dog should come to such an end. He had 

 just one fault : he was rather bad-tempered. He had a 

 special dislike to Johansen ; barked and showed his teeth 

 whenever he came on deck, or even opened a door, and 

 when he sat whistling in the top, or in the crow's-nest 

 these dark winter days, the ' Friend ' would answer with 

 a howl of rage from far out on the ice. Johansen bent 

 down with the lantern to look at the remains. 



" ' Are you glad, Johansen, that your enemy is done 

 for ? ' 



" ' No, I am sorry.' 



" ' Why ? ' 



'' ' Because we did not make it up before he died.' 

 And we went on to look for more bear-tracks, but found 

 none ; so we took the dead dogs on our backs and turned 

 homewards. 



" On the way I asked Peter what had really happened 

 with him and the bear. ' Well, you see,' said he, 

 * when I came along with the lantern we saw a few drops 

 of blood by the gangway ; but that might quite well 

 have been a dog that had cut itself. On the ice below 

 the gangway we saw some bear-tracks, and we started 

 away west, the whole pack of dogs with us, running on 

 far ahead. When we had got away a bit from the ship, 

 there was suddenly an awful row in front, and it wasn't 



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