"Are you quite certain the animal is following us?"
"Yes, Mr. Clawbonny, he is reckoning on a good feed of human flesh!"
"Johnson!" exclaimed the Doctor, grieved at the despairing mood of his companion.
"He is sure enough of his meal!" continued the poor fellow, whose brain had begun to give way. "He must be hungry, and I don’t see why we should keep him waiting."
"Johnson, calm yourself!" "No, Mr Clowbonny, sine we must die, why prolong the sufferings of the poor beast? He is famished like ourselves. There are no seals for him to eat, and Heaven sends hiim men! So much the better for him, that’s all!"
Johnson was fast going mad. He wanted to get up and leave the hut, and the doctor had great difficulty in preventing him. That he succeeded at all, was not through strength, but by saying in a tone of absolute conviction, "Johnson, I shall kill that bear to-morrow!"
"To-morrow!" said Johnson, as if waking up from some bad dream.
"Yes, to-morrow."
"You have no ball!"
"I'll make one."