Chapter Ten.
Ursa Major at Home.
Those were exciting moments, as in the perfect silence which reigned the sharp clicking of the gun-locks sounded loud and strange. Directly after a low whine was uttered by the dog, which lay as if half stunned, what seemed like a light pat from the bear having been a tremendous blow. In answer, as it were, began a chorus of wailing cries, screams, and snapping sounds from the birds which came now wheeling round, a few at a time, till there was a perfect cloud.
The captain, doctor, and Steve held their pieces ready waiting to fire, but the two former hesitated, thinking that they could get a better opportunity; while Steve wondered whether he would be able to hold the heavy double gun steady, for it was visibly describing all kinds of figures with the muzzle, and felt moment by moment more weighty. The two Norsemen stood ready with their great spears levelled; and the bear, there in front, remained watching them, its head lowered and swung up and down, from side to side, with its nose at times almost touching the ground.
“Take care, Steve,” said the captain, without taking his eye from the bear. “Be ready to get behind one of the rocks. You, Johannes, stay by him.”
“Yes,” said the Norseman in a low tone.
“Shall we fire?” said the doctor huskily, as the bear stayed in its place, swinging its head about, making no sign of either attack or retreat.
“Not yet,” replied the captain. “Wait till we can get a shot at the shoulder; a head shot is bad.”
But the bear did not seem disposed to offer the side for the purpose of being shot, and turned first one eye and then the other to them—strange reddish-looking eyes, which looked them over in a furtive way, as the regular swinging motion of the head was kept up.