“Right,” said Johannes. “Why, Mr Steve, you do not think that treacherous great brute would take all that trouble for nothing, do you?”
“I don’t know, I do not understand bears,” replied Steve; “I only say look at him. Why, Johannes, if we had had the boat through, what a capture we might have made—the bear and plenty of walrus!”
“Perhaps, sir,” replied the Norseman drily.
“What do you mean?”
“We might have failed to get within shot.”
“And if we had, lost the walrus all the same,” said Jakobsen.
“Yes,” said Johannes, “you are never sure of one of those great beasts.”
“Well, let’s follow the captain,” said Steve; “I’m getting a little cold.”
“Won’t you stay and see the end of the bear’s game, sir? He has finished his nap, and has begun to have another roll.”
The man was correct, for the bear had rolled itself over, turned, and had another roll over, bringing itself apparently within some twenty yards of a couple of the smallest calves, which were stretched out in clumsy bulk close to the edge of the ice, where it was about ten feet above the glistening water.