"He will also keep us warm," he said.
"Very well, keep the thing," exclaimed O'Donovan ungraciously, when Leslie translated the Russian's reply.
The cub willingly assented to be led into the shelter by its new master, while O'Donovan and the Russians set about skinning the dead bear to obtain the meat which, for the present, was more than enough for their needs.
A fire, which made sad inroads upon their scanty stock of fuel, was kindled, and after a good meal of bear steak, all hands felt much stronger and in better spirits.
Still there were no signs of the returning Polarity, so the Russians volunteered to take the sleigh back to the place where they had left the rest of their comrades.
The snow had now frozen hard, consequently they would be able to proceed far quicker, their idea being to take a supply of bear's meat to their unfortunate fellow-sufferers and to bring one at least of the injured men back to the hut on the edge of the glacier.
While they were gone on their self-imposed errand, O'Donovan, who was beginning to take an interest in the cub, and was being amused by its antics, volunteered to try to catch a seal.
Lashing his knife to the handle of an ice-spade, he made his way towards the open water, choosing a place where the ice had newly formed. Here he dug a circular hole, and with his improvised spear in hand, awaited the result of his quest.
Before very long the head of a young seal appeared above the water in the hole. For a few minutes the animal sniffed suspiciously, but the Irishmen made no movement. Deceived by the apparent lack of life, the seal drew itself clear of the ice and waddled clumsily towards the still motionless man.
Presently an older seal appeared. Scenting danger, she called to her young one, emitting a short bark resembling that of a dog. The latter turned to flee, but it was too late. Running recklessly on the ice, O'Donovan cut off its retreat, and with one thrust of his knife killed it on the spot.