THE WHITE WORLD 



two hours. When we saw almost certain death from 

 starvation ahead of us, it became the general thought that 

 perhaps, after all, it would be better to go to sleep together 

 and end it painlessly, unconscious of the bitter cold and 

 the gnawing pangs of hunger. 



The camp was well stocked with guns, ammunition and 

 cooking utensils; I had always believed that the frozen 

 North abounded in certain game ; that there were fish in the 

 open water, and seals and polar bears in plenty. But I 

 had not reckoned rightly; had we been cast away on a raft 

 in mid-ocean we could scarcely have been more cut off 

 from all chance of obtaining fresh provision. There was 

 no game, though our rifles stood loaded; no fish, though 

 many weary hours we spent with lines dangling in the 

 water; no living thing save ourselves, only stretches of 

 ice and snow, the bitter cold and the solitude of the grave. 



This was the situation, and sometimes we gave up to 

 despair — I perhaps, more keenly, for I was the hunter of 

 the camp, and while the others remained behind, hoping 

 against hope, I traveled back and forth over the ice, praying 

 that some live thing might come within reach of my gun. 

 Day after day I dragged myself homeward, but always with 

 the same answer to my companions' anxious looks: 

 " Nothing, not even a track in the snow! " And so, day after 

 day, until only twenty-four hours stood between us and 

 starvation. 



That day, feeling that the task was useless, I had set 

 out with my gun across the ice and gone almost as far as 

 my strength would permit, when I chanced to come upon 

 a wide stretch of snow. More from force of habit than 

 through hope of being rewarded, I looked carefully across 

 the level field of white. Then my heart jumped so that I 

 thought it would tear loose from its fastenings; right in 

 front of me, showing as plainly as a map marked on the 

 palm of one's hand, were the tracks of a bear! 



The sight of that broad imprint upon the snow gave me 

 new strength. I think I forgot how cold it was, that my 

 knees were ready to give way under me, and that my 

 fingers were so numb I could scarcely hold my rifle. If I 

 shot a bear we were saved from the terror which stared 

 us in the face; I could almost hear the cheers of my com- 

 rades and their fervent "Thank God!" 

 104 



