THE ZoOLoGIst-—JANUARY, 1876. 4735 
too late. If you are armed the coolness of his adversary inspires 
the bear with a certain amount of respect. But the bear also 
deserves our compassion. His life is one continued pursuit of 
food, although he is protected from the cold by a layer of fat several 
inches thick. Once we found in the stomach of one that belonged 
to a besieging corps (which during the whole of the winter and 
spring had watched the frozen ship closely, and had forced us to 
be wonderfully cautious), nothing but a flannel lappet which our 
tailor had thrown away, and in the case of many others it is quite 
empty. Sometimes the stomach of a dead bear contains nothing 
but water and large pieces of sea-weed (Laminaria), so that hunger 
compels it to eat herbs. It is certainly no trifle in this world of 
frost, cold and darkness, with its horrible snow-storms, that moun- 
tains only offer sufficient obstacles to his wanderings for food 
amidst the chaotic crowding and towering ice-fields, surrounded 
by fissures, or floating out to sea on an ice-floe. Certainly its 
brown cousin in Europe lives in luxury compared to him, and is 
comparatively to be envied. In the early part of the year a layer 
of fat, which lies under the skin in the summer and autumn, quite 
fails. A large male bear, killed near the ship on the Ist of April, 
1870, was dreadfully lean; while a female, shot on Sabine Island, 
the 7th of July, 1870, was rather fat. 
With regard to the much-agitated question as to whether the 
bear hybernates, we could make no direct observation. But we 
can say at what time of year we saw them. On the 10th of January, 
1870, one came to the ship and we hunted him, but he escaped; on 
the 13th of January Theodore Klentzer was pursued by one; on the 
6th of March Dr. Bérgen was attacked by another; afterwards they 
visited us daily. When I add that Copeland fought with one near 
Cape Borlase Warren, on the 28th of October, 1869, one may easily 
see that their winter sleep, if they have any, must either be very short 
or very disturbed. On the 9th of March we saw a bear in a storm, 
wandering about with powerful strides, and seeming to think 
nothing of the bad weather, although a man, protected by the best 
of clothes, could scarcely have moved from the spot. The bear 
which we shot on the Ist of April, about three hundred steps from 
the ship, cost us the greatest exertions to drag away against the 
north wind. The smell of burnt fat draws the creatures from miles 
round. In their wanderings they climb high groups_of ice, and 
one can sometimes see them looking far out, with their snouts in 
