140 



EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH 



uttered a roar of rage as he realized his disadvantage, and at 

 once turned back toward the shore which he had just quitted. 

 He held his head well out of the water and continued growling, 

 though he swam rapidly. I waited until he gained a foothold 

 at the shallow margin before I fired. The bullet struck a little 

 above his heart, rendering him helpless but not killing him. 

 He sank to the frozen earth through a foot of soft mud in which 

 he floundered and rolled until no longer recognizable as a bear. 

 It was not difficult then to finish him. We had not met on 

 equal terms, yet I had not felt altogether at ease in attempting 

 to approach and fire from the cranky little canoe which veered 

 quickly when I dropped the paddle to use the rifle, nor did I 

 relish the idea of "grabbing" a dying grizzly to keep him from 

 sinking. As there was no suitable camping place near at hand, 

 we towed the bear a quarter of a mile across the river. It re- 

 quired all of one man's strength to raise the body to the surface 

 in approaching the shore. It was a five-year old male, still in 

 prime condition. We celebrated the event by having a feast 

 of ducks and fresh bread. As I wished to preserve the skin for 

 mounting, it took us some time to remove it, and it was 3 a. m. 

 before we sought our tired pillows. 



On the fifth day we passed the last stunted and flat-topped 

 spruce; the channels were fringed with willows nearly to the 

 coast, which was reached the following day. The larger lakes 

 were still covered with ice, though the sea was open to the 

 horizon. 



We had been delayed while descending the river by the wind 

 which blew continually on our bows. Though our progress 

 was slow, we were not prevented from traveling, but through- 

 out the voyage before us, along a hundred miles of unprotected 

 sea coast, we would be driven ashore by ever)/ strong breeze, 

 unless it blew off the land. My pleasure at beholding the 

 Arctic Ocean at last, was mingled with apprehension at the 

 thought of how unsuitable was the craft with which I would 

 have to traverse its ice-laden waters. 



We had first to cross an indentation of the coast, called Shoal- 

 water Bay, which lies between the mouth of the westernmost 

 channel of the Mackenzie and the delta of a mountain stream 

 thrown out some miles from the hills. We were over an hour 

 making this traverse, where even a moderate wind would have 



