It was a great lift getting his body on board, we hooked the chain of the winch round its neck, let on steam, and up it came to the boom on the foremast, and hung dripping over the deck.
I will here quote a line or two from Scoresby’s book on Greenland. He was the wonderful combination of almost a self-made man, a recognised authority as a scientist and splendid whaler.
I make this quotation to give some weight to the serious side of polar bear hunting. Nowadays it is rather the fashion to minimise dangers on land or sea. And in the time of Scoresby it was also more or less the fashion, but he frankly says: “I do not try to minimise the risks of sea life and whaling,” and he gives due thanks to his Maker for many hair-breadth escapes which we to-day might put down too much to our own efforts and straight powder.
“When the bear is found in the water,” he continues, “crossing from one sheet of ice to another, it may generally be attacked with advantage; but when on the shore, or more especially when it is upon a large sheet of ice, covered with snow—on which the bear, supporting itself on the surface, with its extended paws, can travel with twice the speed of a man, who perhaps sinks to the knee at every step—it can seldom be assailed with either safety or success. Most of the fatal accidents that have occurred with bears have been the result of rencounters on the ice, or injudicious attacks made at such disadvantage.”
I am inclined to think that each person feels differently about approaching a bear on the ice; depending on temperament and age. Personally I feel a faint chill—such as you have before diving off a rock into the sea, and after success something of the glow you have after you come out. But I rather think that younger people have a similar sensation before and after, only stronger. In fact, so strong as at first to make them a little pale, to upset their aim, and afterwards to make them gloriously jubilant.
The naked feeling, I am sure, is there, clothes and ordinary surroundings are of no account, there is the snow, the sky, and the big bear hundreds of times more powerful than yourself—and there is your rifle. Before you dive into the sea, you know you can swim a stroke or two; before you wander over the floe to Bruin, you know all you have to trust to is your aim, and your rifle.
