“Now, pressed more severely, the Bear makes for an iceberg, and stands at bay, while his two foremost pursuers halt at a short distance and await the arrival of the hunter. At this moment the whole pack are liberated; the hunter grasps his lance, and, tumbling through the snow and ice, prepares for the encounter.
“If there be two hunters, the Bear is killed easily; for one makes a feint of thrusting the spear at the right side, and, as the animal turns with his arms towards the threatened attack, the left is unprotected and receives the death-wound.
“But if there be only one hunter, he does not hesitate. Grasping the lance firmly in his hands, he provokes the animal to pursue him by moving rapidly across its path, and then running as if to escape. But hardly is its long unwieldy body extended for the solicited chase, before, with a rapid jump, the hunter doubles on his track and runs back toward his first position. The Bear is in the act of turning after him again, when the lance is plunged into the left side, below the shoulder. So dexterously has this thrust to be made, that an unpractised hunter has often to leave his spear in the side of his prey and run for his life. But even then, if well aided by the Dogs, a cool skilful man seldom fails to kill his adversary.”[153]
With regard to the value of the skins, Dr. R. Brown informs us that “The Royal Board of Trade in Greenland give the natives about five rigsdaler (11s. 3d.) for a skin. Occasionally, there are a number killed near Cape Farewell, which have come round on the Spitzbergen ice-stream. Here a curious custom prevails, viz., that whoever sights the Bear first—man, woman, or child—is entitled to the skin, and the person who has shot it only to the blubber and flesh.”
There are some dreadful tales prevalent as to the ferocity of the Polar Bear; but these, according to the same excellent observer, approach a good deal the nature of “yarns.” After having lived for some time in the Arctic regions, and hunted Bears again and again, he considers that “a great deal of the impressions which we have imbibed regarding its ferocity are more due to old notions of what it ought to be rather than what it is, and that the tales related by Barentz, Edward Pelham, and other old navigators, regarding its bloodthirstiness during the time they wintered in Spitzbergen, were a good deal exaggerated. When enraged, or emboldened by hunger, I can, however, quite well understand that, like all wild and even domesticated animals, it may be dangerous to man. On the East Coast of Greenland, where they know little of man, they are very bold. The members of the German Expedition, when making out-door observations, had to be continually on their guard against them. I have chased it over the floes of Pond’s Bay, and the Bear’s only thought seemed to be how best to escape from its pursuers. I should have hesitated a good deal before making so free with the Grizzly Bear of the Californian wilds (Ursus ferox), which is, perhaps, the most ferocious animal on the American continent. Though seemingly so unwieldy, the nennok runs with great speed, and being almost marine in its habits, it swims well. I have chased it with a picked crew of eight whalemen, and yet the Bear has managed to distance us in the race for the ice-fields. It would every now and again, when its two cubs were getting left in the rear, stop and (literally) push them up behind; and on reaching the steep edge of the ice-floe, finding that we were fast reaching them, it lifted each of them upon the ice with its teeth, seizing the loose skin at the back of the neck. Once on the ice, they were safe.
“Unlike its congeners, it does not hug, but bites; and it will not eat its prey until it is dead, playing with it like a Cat with a Mouse. I have known several men who, while sitting watching or skinning Seals, have had its rough hand laid on their shoulder. Their only chance then has been to feign being dead, and manage to shoot it while the Bear was sitting at a distance watching its intended victim. Though Eskimo are often seen who have been scarred by it, yet I repeat that, unless attacked or rendered fierce by hunger, it rarely attacks man. During our last trip to Greenland, none of our party saw one; indeed, they are only killed in the vicinity of Disco Bay, during the winter or spring, when they have either come or drifted south on the ice-floes. Six were killed in the vicinity of Omenak during the winter of 1866–67.”
The flesh of the Polar Bear is sometimes eaten by the Eskimo, but parts of it are said to be poisonous; this is especially the case with the liver. Scoresby relates that sailors who have incautiously partaken of the latter have been made very ill, and have died from its effects; and Kane, who wished to try for himself the truth of the statement, was upset by the first taste. The fat of this Bear is used for burning; it has not the disagreeable smell of train-oil.