The ferocious white bear, the enemy and the dread of all other animals that come within its reach, is exceedingly tender and affectionate to its young, of which the following anecdote affords a striking and interesting example. While the "Carcase" was locked in the ice, early one morning the man at the mast-head gave notice that three bears were making their way very fast over the frozen ocean, and were directing their course towards the ship. They had no doubt been invited by the scent of some blubber of a sea-horse that the crew had killed a few days before, which had been set on fire; for they drew out of the flames a part of the flesh that remained unconsumed, and ate it voraciously. The crew from the ship threw great lumps of the flesh of the sea-horse, which they had still left, upon the ice, which the old bear fetched singly, laid every lump before her cubs as she brought it, and dividing it, gave to each a share, reserving but a small portion to herself. As she was fetching away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs and shot them both dead, and in her retreat they wounded the dam, but not mortally. It would have drawn tears of pity from any but unfeeling minds, to have marked the affectionate concern expressed by this poor beast in the dying moments of her expiring young. Though she was herself dreadfully wounded, and could but just crawl to the place where they lay, she carried the lump of flesh she had fetched away, as she had done others before, tore it in pieces, and laid it before them; and when she saw that they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon one and then upon the other, and endeavoured to raise them up, piteously moaning all the while. When she found she could not stir them, she went off, and when she had got at some distance, looked back and moaned; and that not availing her to entice them away, she returned, and smelling round them, began to lick their wounds. She went off a second time as before, and having crawled a few paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood moaning. But still her cubs not rising to follow her, she returned to them again, and with signs of inexpressible fondness, went round one and round the other, pawing them and moaning. Finding at last that they were cold and lifeless, she raised her head towards the ship, and uttered a growl of despair, which the murderers returned with a volley of musket balls. She fell between her cubs, and died licking their wounds.
The Sea-Otter is the last of the marine mammiferous animals that claim our attention. Although it is also found in the southern Pacific, yet its chief resort is in the Behring's Sea, along the chain of the Aleut Islands. It is but a small animal, yet its long-haired, beautifully fine and black fur, which is not seldom paid for with 400 or 500 rubles, renders it by far the most important product of those seas. It has even got an historical interest, since it has been the chief cause which led the Russians from Ochotzk to Kamtschatka, and from thence over the Aleut chain to the opposite coast of America.
Sea-Otter.
The Aleut islanders show a wonderful dexterity in the capture of this animal. In April or May they assemble at an appointed spot in their light skin-boats, or baidars, and choose one of the most respected tamols, or chiefs, for the leader of the expedition, which generally numbers from fifty to a hundred boats. Such hunting-parties are annually organised from the Kurile Islands to Kadjack, and consequently extend over a line of three thousand miles. On the first fine day the expedition sets out, and proceeds to a distance of about forty wersts from the coast, when the baidars form into a long line, leaving an interval of about two hundred and fifty fathoms from boat to boat as far as a sea-otter diving out of the water can be seen; so that a row of thirty baidars occupies a space of from ten to twelve wersts. When the number of the boats is greater, the intervals are reduced. Every man now looks upon the sea with concentrated attention. Nothing escapes the penetrating eye of the Aleut; in the smallest black spot appearing but one moment over the surface of the waters, his experienced glance at once recognises a sea-otter. The baidar which first sees the animal, rows rapidly towards the place where the creature dived, and now the Aleut, holding his oar straight up in the air, remains motionless on the spot. Immediately the whole squadron is in motion, and the long straight line changes into a wide circle, the centre of which is occupied by the baidar with the raised oar. The otter not being able to remain long under water, re-appears, and the nearest Aleut immediately greets him with an arrow. This first attack is seldom mortal; very often the missile does not even reach its over-distant mark, and the sea-otter instantly disappears. Again the oar rises from the next baidar; again the circle forms, but this time narrower than at first; the fatigued otter is obliged to come oftener to the surface, arrows fly from all sides, and finally the animal, killed by a mortal shot, or exhausted by repeated wounds, falls to the share of the archer who has hit it nearest to the head. If several otters appear at the same time, the boats form as many rings, provided their number be sufficiently great. All these movements are executed with astonishing celerity and precision, and amidst the deepest silence, which is only interrupted from time to time by the hissing sound of the flying arrows.
Banded Dipper.