We lie in a small bay the length of our small vessel, which is one hundred and ten feet in length, and to our left hand there is a bigger bay in the floe, about two hundred yards wide, and narwhals have appeared in it. So we dropped our whale-boat with the harpoon-gun loaded and put the line in order. This, of course, should have been all in order and ready, so time was lost. Then we tumbled on board by the port chains and rowed down to where the whales had last appeared; and waited for them to come up again.
It blew a little with cold, fine snow. As we waited someone on board shouted “A bear!” and we cast our eyes down wind to the ice-floe and got a glimpse of pale primrose passing amongst hummocks; and very quickly we got the harpoon out of the gun and backed down as fast as possible, getting into a bit of a sea, and as we approached the floe I got two 475 shells into the rifle. As we came within fifty yards up came Bruin, making towards us. It was very difficult to hold straight, for the sea was breaking in foam and the boat was tossed about amongst chunks of ice, so I held on and on, wishing to make sure—up and down we went, and round went the muzzle of the rifle, but still the bear came on, as if he wanted to board us. So lest he should change his mind and bolt, I let loose at about eight yards and tried to hit the middle of its chest, but I was a trifle off and hit the point of his starboard shoulder—with such a heavy rifle and big ball and cartridge we would have expected to knock him over, but it only turned it! The second barrel hit him a little high and back of the shoulder, and he tumbled out of sight over a hummock. So we made wild jumps on to broken ice in the foam and scrambled on to the floe and over very rugged hummocks for a few yards, and put in a third shot, which seemed to finish it, and Svendsen and two men hurried on to get the body, for the ice was closing round us, but they found it still breathing, so Gisbert and I, who were keeping the boat off the floe-edge, backed in again, and with difficulty handed the rifle to Svendsen, who put in another bullet, and with a rope the three dragged it over the snow towards the boat. It was a mighty drag even for the distance of a hundred yards. Then we backed in again through the surf at ice-edge and Svendsen and the men struggled into the boat with the line, and we hurriedly pulled and shoved off, for some heavy ice was closing round us, and got out just in time, with the bear floating in tow. In the rough water clear of ice, we managed, with another struggle and without upsetting, to pull the bear on board and rowed back to the ship, greatly rejoicing! Just as we got it heaved on board by the steam-winch, much to my relief, I spotted the narwhals again and off we set, three pairs of oars rowing hard, and as quickly as possible, the harpoon again in place.
I have been at the killing of much bigger whales, but this spotted black-and-white fellow with the horn in his nose, plus the bear, was to my mind as interesting a little hunt as any. Sometimes a rabbit stalk is of more interest than that of a deer! A fine black-and-white-spotted fellow showed with a great ivory unicorn, but out of shot. Then another, more brown in colour, appeared, and Svendsen let drive. The harpoon shot was excellent and very quick, away went the line, I do not know for how many fathoms—we passed it aft and all hauled in and let out and hauled in again, finally we came alongside the whale, with its circle of splashing and foam, and it raised its tail, and we put in a big bullet from the 475, which went from its stem to its bow, and it collapsed instantly. It was a surprisingly killing shot, for one bullet to kill the whale, and yet the bear took three to stop it. We hove our line in short, and set to work to tow the whale alongside and began to flense it—that is, to strip the blubber off the carcass—and were all very pleased, and were just drawing the harpoon from the gun, which we had reloaded, when again whales appeared in our little ice bay. So we again threw our oilskins into the boat and went off again. In our bay we waited twenty minutes by the watch, and up one came again, a better one than our first was leading: it was white, with black spots. Our first was brown, with white markings. We very nearly got the harpoon into it, but it only showed for a second or two each rise and it escaped. So more waiting in wet cold wind, with a lot of bears’ blood, and snow and water under foot: but this journey we had each a tot of aqua vite. So we waited and waited again, just as you wait for a rising trout—only with a little more subdued excitement and perhaps more than usual wet and cold: and again the handsome beasts appeared, and we dashed after them, three pairs of oars, but they went off under the floe and we waited again till endurance ceased, and, very wet, and cold, and shivering, we got aboard for supper at four in the morning. Three o’clock yesterday morning till four o’clock this morning makes a longish day of experience. I would have given two bears to have got the biggest narwhal with the splendid horn. Perhaps if we had harpooned one of the baby whales of the family we might have got the homed male, for narwhals, like sperm whales, stand by each other. Or we might have had his great ivory tusk through our boat, as has happened before. They have driven their spear through many inches of an oaken keel. You can see such a keel in Bergen Museum.
We cut up the narwhal and found it full of small cuttle-fish and shrimps—the bear was full of lead. These great 475 cordite seemed to have less effect than the higher velocity 250 mannlicher. I must try them again, but I begin to be a convert to the smaller bores and high velocity.
Now it is Archie’s turn for another bear, so I can retire to paint and bring up my game-book with four bears and a whale to enter—two bears with rifle, one with lasso, and one with pistol, and possibly the whale which was partly killed by harpoon, partly by rifle.
CHAPTER XXVIII
If I had not been writing these notes I would have harpooned a whale, I believe, for a few minutes after getting on board the narwhals appeared again, and by the time we were afloat and at the place they had appeared at, we were too late. So, to be out of temptation and the cold, I turned in at six A.M., after a long day of the unexpected. First, open sea! then the narwhals’ appearance, then the bears, and narwhals again. Quite good hunting if it were not for the persistent mist that worries all of us more or less and prevents our getting ahead.