POLAR BEAR AT HERALD ISLAND 109 



Our expectation of Siberian hunting was dashed by the 

 absence of Baron von Kleist. Hopeless fog prevented us 

 hunting the sheep at Penkegnei Bay after we had taken 

 advice of the Russian officers and proved they were 

 there. We entered the Arctic successfully in spite of the 

 dismal weather. Our fears of shipwreck there, when we 

 lost the rudder, were lightened by finding that we could 

 navigate with a jury rudder. Congratulations succeeded 

 tense anxiety when we moored in Teller Harbor. Then 

 our hopes of a speedy repair were broken by the poverty 

 of the place as we found it. Coming upon a providential 

 rudder nearly made to hand, was almost offset by the 

 loss of a precious week in getting to sea again. Born's 

 threatened defection barely preceded the events which 

 formed his desire to get away from Teller in any way he 

 could. A quick run for two days up from Teller was 

 averaged down by adverse weather. Sun and fog, fair 

 and foul wind, a little gain and a little loss, — and our 

 feelings were constantly alternating between hope and 

 despair. 



But hardly had we come up with the ice, when the 

 greatest event of the voyage threw us to the height of 

 excitement; for, surveying with eye and glass the mar- 

 velous panorama spread beneath the crow's nest, I spied 

 a tiny chunk of ice in the water, and noticed that a black 

 speck on it shifted from side to side. It needed but a 

 glance through the binoculars to recognize it as a polar 

 bear, swimming toward the boat. Shouting, ''Bear!" I 

 came out of the rigging like a monkey and everybody on 

 the ship turned out instanter. 



Kleinschmidt brought up his moving-picture cameras. 

 The "Abler" changed her course and maneuvered to cut 

 the beast off repeatedly from the ice floes a quarter mile 



