As the bear, with lowered head and great haunches uplifted began his dive, he felt a terrible, grinding thrust in his left flank, and it seemed as if a rock from the floor of the channel rose up and smote him, half-lifting him from the water. The narwhal, his aim confused by the blinding of one eye, had again failed to strike true. The point of his tusk had caught the bear's flank on such a slant that it did not penetrate to any vital organ, but ran up, perhaps an inch below the hide, between the outermost curve of two of the upper ribs, and reappeared a little behind the shoulder. The tremendous force of that upward rush carried the great twisted horn right through to its very base.
Having delivered what he felt must be a fatal and final blow, the narwhal at once backed downward with powerful surges of his tail, trying to withdraw his horn. But now he found himself in a deadly trap. The bear, mad with pain, and held firmly, proceeded to enwrap his adversary's whole head in a frightful embrace. Slashing, tearing, ripping, with all four desperate paws at once, he was speedily shredding the narwhal's head to fragments. With mad thrashings the narwhal struggled to break loose, but in vain. Down he sank, till he lay upon the bottom, that destroying bulk still fixed upon his head. When he felt the solid ground beneath him he bent his mighty body like a bow, and sprung it, with a force that nothing could resist. His horn tore itself free, the bear was flung loose, and he lurched to one side with a violence that threw the swimming salmon overhead into confusion and sent great surges boiling to the surface. Then, blind, shattered, and jetting blood in torrents from his gaping throat, he settled upon the bottom, writhed feebly for a few minutes, and lay still.
"THEN, WITH THE LARGEST PRIZE IN HIS JAWS, HE SWAM SLOWLY TO THE ROCK."
The bear, plunging upward through the close ranks of the salmon, began to cough hoarsely as soon as he got his head above water. It was some moments before he could do more than keep himself afloat while he regained his breath. Then he began slowly swimming round and round in a circle, still full of battle rage, but not yet able to control his lungs. At last, he felt equal to seeking a renewal of the fight. Once more he dived, expecting at any instant to feel again that grinding thrust, that resistless upward blow. Below the salmon throng he peered about through the glimmer. Far down, he made out the shape of his opponent, lying motionless on the bottom. Obviously, there was nothing more to be feared from that still bulk, which seemed to sway gently in the current. The victor returned to the surface.
"LAY DOWN IN SULLEN TRIUMPH TO LICK HIS WOUNDS."
Lifting his head high above the water, he scanned the whole empty, pallid world. No enemy, no possible rival, was to be seen. Weak as he was and weary, he killed two or three more of the ceaselessly passing salmon just to reassure himself. Then, with the largest prize in his jaws, he swam slowly to the rock, crawled ashore, and lay down in sullen triumph to lick his wounds.