On hearing this Andrew unslung his rifle, and turning round, observed a large white animal, scarcely to be distinguished from the snow, not forty paces off, stealing towards them. To fly towards the ship, close as they were to her, would have invited the bears to pursue at a faster speed. Facing their foes, they halted, as they proposed—the bears stopped also, sitting down on their haunches to watch their proceedings.
“Archy, run on, and shout as you go—the watch on deck may hear you, and assistance may be sent to us in case we fail to beat off the bears.”
Archy ran on as he was directed. At length he got the ship clearly in sight, but still she seemed a long, long way off. He stopped, however, and shouted with all his might. No reply came, but he heard behind him a cry, and then a shot fired. He knew that it must be from Andrew’s gun. Once more he pushed forward, though his legs were ready to sink beneath him. Just then the moon arose bright and full. He had stopped to give another shout, when, looking back to see if his friends were coming, he discovered, to his dismay, a bear stealing towards him. He remembered Andrew’s caution, not to fly, and bravely facing the animal, he clapped his hands together, shouting even louder than before, in the hopes of frightening it away. At that instant a hail came from the ship—he hailed in return. The bear stopped, apparently astonished at the strange sounds which met its ears. Directly afterwards another hail was heard, and turning his head for an instant, he caught sight of a party of men coming towards him from the ship. The bear seemed unwilling to encounter so many foes, and began slowly to retreat. In another minute Archy was surrounded by a number of men, shouting to him in well-known tones.
“My friends out there want your help,” said Archy, not stopping to explain who he was.
They all had arms in their hands—while some stopped to fire at the retreating bear, others run on in the direction indicated. Some of the bullets took effect, and the bear was seen to drop on the snow. While most of them dashed forward towards the wounded bear, one of them remained by Archy.
“Where do you come from, lad—who are you?” he asked. Archy, with a bounding heart, recognised the voice. It was that of Captain Irvine.
“I am Archy Hughson, sir, and Andrew Scollay, and David Saunders, and Foubister, the carpenter of a ship which took us on board, are out there—I hope the bears have not hurt them.”
“I trust not,” said the captain; “but come along, laddie, to the ship—tell me more as you go. You seem scarcely able to stand.”
Archy was, indeed, gasping for breath, and well nigh dropping from fatigue and excitement. The kind captain supporting him, they made their way toward the ship; but Archy, though he tried to speak, had lost all power of utterance. One of the other men came quickly to their assistance, and Archy was lifted on board, and placed in the captain’s cabin, under the care of Dr Sinclair. In a short time the rest of the party arrived, bringing Andrew and Foubister unhurt, though well nigh exhausted; but poor Saunders had been severely wounded by one of the bears, two of which had, however, been killed.
Andrew, on being carried below, soon somewhat recovered. His first act was to kneel down, when, lifting up his hands, he returned thanks to that all powerful and merciful God who had preserved him and his companions.