The Land of Desolation: Being a Personal Narrative of Observation and Adventure in Greenland

by I. I. Hayes

It took this family party somewhere near half an hour to get around to where the old one wanted to be, to satisfy herself as to whether the Panther was a friend or a foe. Once she seemed irresolute, and turned about as if she would retrace her steps and make off; but then she turned back again, and for some minutes after seemed to be dragged by two antagonistic impulses, first one way and then the other, with a general gain of force, however, on the string which drew her out to the point of ice.

By-and-by she got where she seemed to be satisfied, for she suddenly stopped short, threw up her head, gave a tremendous snort, wheeling around at the same time in a state of alarm, and looking about as if for some means of escape. After a moment’s reflection she took the back track. The alarm spread to the little ones, and the lively creatures ran around their mother as if they would inquire what the matter was, and if the show was over, and they were to have no more of it, while she seemed to be encouraging them by assurances that it was no great affair, but that it was necessary for them to use their legs as nimbly as possible, for they must get out of that. So their gambols were ended, and the little things whined piteously, and did their best. They appeared to be as unhappy as children caught in a thunder-shower on their way from a country fair. It was now not less amusing to watch them than before. In the confused state of their minds they grew utterly careless of what they were about, and they often sprang upon rotten places in the ice, and broke through, and by the time they had crawled out again the mother was some distance ahead, and was obliged to wait, and often to run back, if not actually to render assistance to her cubs, at least to encourage them. As for herself; she could readily have escaped; and she appeared to be quite conscious of the fact; but she would not leave her young: her devotion to them was indeed touching, and worthy of all admiration.

THE PANTHER AFTER THE BEARS.

Meanwhile the Panther had not been idle. The moment the old bear got the wind of us, and began to show symptoms of alarm, the captain rang his bell, “Ahead, full speed.” The screw began to revolve, and at the top of her speed the vessel bore down upon the ice, across the line of the bears’ retreat.

This was the captain’s plan from the beginning, and it now became a mere question of time; though on the Panther’s part there was in the minds of most of us a question of strength and power.

We came upon the ice as before with a grand crash, striking what appeared to be the weakest spot. The shock was worse than any thing we had yet felt, the ice being firmer than before; but the solid iron cut-water opened her way into it as formerly, and she rode up on it and crushed it down, and rode up again and settled once more; and in the conflict every body was very uneasy on his legs. The jar made lively work in the pantry, where the cabin-boy had retired when he had shouted “bergs” instead of bears, and, quite exhausted by the effort, had fallen fast asleep there, and was aroused by the soup-tureen coming down and landing, bottom up, on the crown of his head, which nearly cracked his skull, but saved the crockery, and in a measure woke up the young man. “Blob,” who was standing beside the coamings of the main hatch, making a sketch of the bears, turned a somerset into the coal-hole, where his picture was turned into a black bear instead of a white one. Otherwise no damage was done; but the ruse was altogether successful, as the captain had anticipated; for the force of the shock started the ice, and a crack opened right through in front of us to the water on the other side. The point to which the bears had gone was thus broken from the main body of the floe, and the game was now on a raft, and at our mercy.

The crack, opening very rapidly before the steady pressure of the vessel, gave us a free passage through, and seeing themselves thus headed off, and the steamer bearing down across their line of retreat, they took the back track, and now, all thoroughly frightened, ran across to the opposite side, behind us, thus compelling us to wheel about and return through the crack. At this moment the photographers came rushing on deck demanding the right of a “first shot.” Quick as a flash the camera was down and focused, a slide with a little hole in it was dropped before the lens, and the family group of polar bears was taken at a distance of about two hundred yards. To accomplish this feat required the very first degree of enterprise and skill. The camera was stationed upon the top-gallant forecastle, and the impression was obtained while both ship and bears were in motion. The brightness of the light, of course, greatly favored the success of this altogether novel experiment in the photographic art. The artists (Mr. John Dunmore, of Boston, and Mr. George Critchersen, of Worcester) deserve the highest commendation for their successful accomplishment of so difficult a feat. The bears now took the water with the manifest intention of swimming to the solid floe; but here we again anticipated them, and they wheeled about again, and swam back towards the ice which they had left but a few moments before. Putting the helm a-starboard, we now came directly in upon their wake, and when within fifty yards of them slackened speed.

At this moment they presented a magnificent sight, their beautiful long hair waving gracefully in the clear blue water, and their round, buoyant bodies floating along swiftly towards the ice and hoped for safety. The tender regard of the mother for her offspring was here as strikingly apparent as when on the ice. She would not abandon them; but, on the contrary, the nearer we approached the more she stuck by and encouraged them, still, as before, with one on either side. Once she invited them to dive, and, imitating her example, the three went down together and paddled themselves along for some distance about twenty feet below the surface, where we could easily see them striking out for dear life. When they came up we gave them a volley from our rifles, and the old mother and one of the cubs lay lifeless upon the blood-stained water.

The other cub, by some mischance, escaped with only a slight scratch, and reached the floe, where, as he rose, another ball entered his side, and sent him off with a mortal wound, whining piteously. The captain now jammed his steamer into the ice, and, clambering down over the bob-stays, gave chase. The bear soon stopped and hid himself behind a hummock, and when the captain came up with him he was disposed to make fight. His whine was converted into a defiant growl, and he charged his pursuer; but a well-aimed shot brought the game down and completed the hunt.