WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 217 



whaler the St Ebba. His father used to go north, and once 

 took a farm hand from his home in the island of Nottero. 

 Hansen was no sailor, and was a little weak-minded, but 

 enormously strong physically. In the fo'c'sle, the crew 

 made him their butt, till one morning he rose in his simple 

 wrath and threw the crew out separately up the scuttle 

 on to the deck when they should have been at dinner, and 

 kept them out till they pleaded for mercy. Shortly after he 

 became their hero, for one day whilst they were all away on 

 the ice sealing they were signalled to, to return to the ship, 

 for the ice was breaking up, and all hands made a long run 



round an opening lane to get aboard, but big Hansen hooked 

 a piece of floating ice and started navigating himself across, 

 paddling with his ice pick, and he was not in the least put 

 out when he observed a big bear awaiting his landing. But 

 the bear seemed impatient and shoved off to meet him half- 

 way, and Hansen quietly waited and dealt it a mighty blow 

 with his pick into the brain as it came alongside, and killed it, 

 then towed it along with him, skinned it, and came to the 

 ship with its head and skin over his head and shoulders, 

 very bloody but very pleased. 



Last night we were fog-stayed, we could not get ahead 

 a thin fog with the midnight sun shining through. We 



