“Now, Paul,” advised Remington, “shoot!”
The bear was less than twenty feet from the boat, but Paul was still in so high a state of excitement that he missed two shots, and it was only at the third attempt that he struck the animal in the head, and it collapsed.
“It’s a stunning big fellow!” Remington declared, while he slipped a rope over the animal’s neck to tow it to the ship.
“That was a splendid shot from the ship—I doubt if I could have made it,” said Ainsworth. “And you’ve got the first game of the trip, Paul.”
“’Twere a rare fine shot,” put in Dan. “I were standin’ by, an’ I’ve missed many a better.”
When the bear was at length hoisted on deck it proved indeed to be a monster polar bear, and Captain Bluntt declared it one of the largest he had ever seen.
Paul’s pleasure was beyond bounds. His face, which was already losing its sallow, yellow appearance, glowed with delight. He was in a fair way to have his head turned by the unstinted praise of his companions.
The fine smoking roast which came on the supper table that evening certainly had an appetizing appearance, but when Paul received a helping he fancied he detected a fishy odor, and when he tasted the meat he made a wry face and exclaimed:
“Ugh! Why, it’s strong with fish!”