"Stop, stop," cried the white man. "For God's sake, don't let him put his hands in there. That brute will bite them off."
"O no," said Eiseeyou. "I am not afraid. They are old friends."
To the astonishment of every one, the mighty bear arose and stood on all fours; then, reaching out his head, he licked the hands of Oumauk with his long, supple red tongue.
Then Oumauk passed his hands over the bear's face and he seemed as delighted as a dog.
When Oumauk had petted and talked to Whitie for a while, a fish was brought and to the surprise of every one but Eiseeyou, the bear took the fish and ate it greedily.
After this Oumauk spent most of his time by the side of the White Czar's cage, petting him and talking to him.
All went well with the little expedition for about a week, and then the unexpected happened. The course they were pursuing was entirely out of any steamship lane. Only sealing and whaling vessels and an occasional revenue cutter ever traversed this dangerous portion of the Seven Seas. Their course lay in almost the same direction as that of the icebergs that had been breaking away from the northern icefloe for several weeks and drifting away southward to mingle and melt in the great Atlantic. The floe of the bergs had nearly ceased, but hardly a day passed but that they saw many small cakes of ice. So for the past week they had kept a sharp lookout for these hidden dangers to unsuspecting ships.
It was about twelve o'clock on the eighth day from Eskimo Village and The Spray was off the Newfoundland banks.