THE FRIENDLY ARCTIC 215 



up ffom one of his dives when I first saw him, for he was in a hole 

 with his forelegs resting upon the ice on either side of him and with 

 his shoulders out of water. He seemed to be craning his neck to 

 look as far as possible, but apparently the ice would bear no more 

 than the forward third of his body. After a rest of a minute or so 

 and a good look around, he proceeded with a sort of overhand stroke, 

 swimming along the surface and breaking the ice. In five or eight 

 yards he became tired of this, made a dive, and in a few seconds 

 canae up through the ice about twenty yards nearer. Here he 

 rested as before, lifting himself and craning his neck as high as the 

 strength of the ice allowed, then swam forward a few yards and 

 dove again. This manner of locomotion was so interesting that I 

 called Storkerson and Ole. 



The bear made a landing about fifty yards from the camp and 

 just at that moment got the scent of it. He stood and sniffed and 

 then came towards us at a leisurely walk. The dogs had seen 

 him and were furiously barking and tugging at their chains. Ail 

 this outcry and commotion seemed to be of but mild interest, for 

 the bear gave them only a casual glance now and then as he walked 

 about five or ten yards from them straight for the stored seal meat. 

 I killed him with one shot when he was in a convenient place for 

 skinning. He was a fat bear, the largest we had secured so far, a 

 good deal over a thousand pounds. 



The fourth bear came while we were skinning number three. He 

 was a yearling and very timid. We had plenty of meat and I de- 

 cided I would not shoot unless he came straight into camp. After 

 studying us for five or ten minutes and sniffing the fresh smell 

 of the bear we were skinning, he evidently concluded that a closer 

 acquaintance would be undesirable and started off at a slow run 

 which must have been intended to be a dignified retreat, but which 

 I showed that he was really scared. 



i The fifth bear came on June 3rd, a visit more exciting than any 

 of the others. I was away on a walk about our island, examining 

 all sides to see if there were any chance to get off. Our dogs are 

 tied commonly by making with picks a sort of toggle in the ice 

 through which we pass the end of the tie line. Although ice is 

 readily broken with a sharp blow, one of these toggles is unbe- 

 lievably strong if subjected only to a steady strain. In the whaling 

 at Point Barrow, for instance, half a dozen ice toggles, each no 

 more than five inches in diameter, will stand the strain of hauling 

 a sixty- or seventy-foot whale out of a lead on to the ice. But in 

 this case thawing had weakened them, and when the dogs made a 



