"What ails you?" Kit cried out. "What are you running from?"
"Oh! nothing—much," replied Donovan, panting. "Met—a—bear out here: that's all."
"Met a bear!" exclaimed Raed.
"Yes. I was going along, trying to get by some of the seals. All at once I was face to face with a mighty great chap, on the same business with myself, I suppose. Thought I wouldn't wait. He looked pretty big. I'd nothing but the pole, you know."
"We must have him!" exclaimed Wade.
"Best way will be to let down the boat, and work round the floe to prevent his taking to the water," advised the captain. "They will swim like ducks three or four miles at a time."
While the boat was being let down, Kit and I ran to load the muskets.
"I'm going to put the bayonets on our two," said Kit. "They'll be handy if we should come to close quarters with him."
Raed and Wade, with the captain, were getting ready to go out on the ice. Weymouth and Hobbs were already in the boat. Kit and I followed.
"Now be very careful about firing in this fog," the captain called after us. "We are going off to the right, round the edge of the floe on that side. You keep off on the left to see that he don't escape that way. Head him up toward the schooner if you can; but look out how you shoot."