“Bear!”
The next I knew, down the gangway onto the ice came the quartermaster, Nindemann, a rifle in his hand, running in his stockinged feet as hard as he could toward our stem. Sure enough, there galloping off past the bow, was a big polar bear who quickly faded from view, but that meant nothing as white bears naturally enough do not stand out long against an ice background. A bear! Fresh meat instead of salt beef, if we got him! But polar bears had a reputation for ferocity and there was Nindemann, single-handed, going after one. What might not the bear do to him among those hummocks? Chipp and I looked at each other questioningly. Being somewhat ungainly and rather stout, I can hardly say that Nature ever designed me for chasing bears, besides which, having just tramped thirty miles across the broken pack, I hardly felt equal to joining any bear hunts, and I was about to suggest we let the Indian, Alexey, go in support, leaving us to struggle with the dogs, when the problem was solved for us. Down the gangway, going four bells in Nindemann’s wake came Danenhower, also flourishing a rifle, and in no time at all after that, Collins and Newcomb, both armed, shot down the gangplank also and were off on the run. By the time our sledge made the gangway and we hauled our tired legs up the incline, not only the bear but all four hunters were out of sight among the hummocks.
As we came over the side, I looked questioningly round for the watch officer to report my return aboard, but except for Dunbar who was already half up the foreshrouds on his way to the crosstrees, undoubtedly to get a better view of the chase, there wasn’t a man in sight on deck, so without further ceremony, both Chipp and I laid below to the wardroom, where, furs and all, we planked ourselves wearily down at the mess table, calling loudly for Tong Sing and hot coffee. At the table, in no wise disturbed by the shouting on deck, was Captain De Long, still lingering over his breakfast. Eagerly he questioned us about Herald Island while we ate; his disappointment at our report, utterly dashing his hope that the island might ever serve him as a base, was plainly evident, though he tried to conceal it from us by changing the subject.
“Well, Chipp, there’s still Wrangel Land to look forward to.” He gazed listlessly up at the wardroom clock. “But that’ll have to wait. Right now I believe it’s time for Sunday inspection. Have Nindemann muster the crew immediately on deck.”
“Nindemann, sir?” asked Chipp puzzled, having just seen our quartermaster vanishing on a bear hunt.
“Yes, Nindemann of course. He has the watch now.”
“Sorry, captain,” answered Chipp, “but Nindemann went over the side just before we returned chasing a bear. He must be over a mile from here by now. However, now I’m back, sir, I’ll muster the crew myself.”
“Nindemann gone, you say? When he had the watch? Who gave him permission to leave; Danenhower, I wonder?” De Long frowned, then motioned to Tong Sing. “Tell Mr. Danenhower I want to see him right away.”
“Dan’s gone too, sir,” put in Chipp quickly before the steward could leave. “He followed Nindemann after that bear, to back him up, I suppose. I’ll arrange for the inspection, sir.”
De Long’s frown deepened perceptibly at this.