Peter the Whaler

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“And now, my lads,” he said, when he had modestly accepted the office, “the first thing we must do is to build a snow-wall, to shelter us from the wind; and as soon as the wind moderates, we’ll have up a flagstaff on the top of the highest hummock, to show our friends where to look for us.”

According to this advice, we set to work to collect the snow, which did not lay more than three inches thick on the ice. We first made it into cakes, about four times the size of an ordinary brick, and then piled them up in a semicircular form, the convex side being turned to the wind. Over the top we spread a boat’s sail, which was kept down by lumps of snow being placed on the top of it. The canvas was also allowed to hang over a couple of lances lashed together in front, so that we had a very tolerable shelter. The snow was scraped away from the interior; and such spars and planks as we could get out of the boat were spread at the bottom, with a sail over them, to form our bed.

These arrangements were accomplished as the long twilight turned into total darkness. We lay down, and prepared to pass the dreary hours till the sun rose again as best we could. I thought of the time I had spent on the iceberg, and, remembering Andrew’s words, I did not despair. I slept, as did my companions, many of them with the careless indifference to danger which has become the characteristic of most British seamen.

I was awoke by the excessive cold, though we kept as close together within our shelter as we could, for the sake of the warmth. My companions were still asleep, and I was afraid if I moved of arousing them. The storm still raged furiously without, and I could not again compose myself to sleep for the noise it made.

I lay awake, listening to its whistling sound as it blew over the ice, when I fancied that I heard a low grumbling noise, like a person with a gruff voice talking to himself. At last this idea grew so strong on me, that I crept quietly to the curtain in front of our hut, and, lifting up a corner, looked out. The stars were shining forth from the sky, and there was a thin crescent moon, by the light of which I saw a white monster leaning over the gunwale of our boat, examining, it appeared to me, the things in her. I was not long in recognising the visitor to be a large, white, shaggy polar bear. He first took up one thing, and, smelling it and turning it over on every side, replaced it. When, however, he came to a piece of beef, or anything eatable, he without ceremony appropriated it, and was thus rapidly consuming our slender store of provisions. “This will never do,” I thought to myself. “If this goes on, we shall be to a certainty starved.”

We had fortunately brought the two guns into the hut, that they might run no risk of getting damp. They were both loaded; and, drawing back, I got hold of one, hoping to shoot the bear before he was disturbed. If I aroused my companions first, they to a certainty would make some noise, which would probably frighten away our visitor, and we should lose both the bear and the provisions.

When I again put my head from under the sail, he was still at work. I was on my knees, and had got the gun to my shoulder, when he saw me. He was fortunately on the other side of the boat; for no sooner did his eye fall on me, than he began slowly to walk along the side, holding on by the gunwale, evidently intending to get close to me. “My best chance is to hit him in the eyes,” I thought, “and blind him. If he once gets hold of me, he’ll give me a squeeze I shall not like.”

Before he had moved many steps I fired full in his face. The report of the gun, and the loud growl of rage and pain uttered by the brute, instantly awakened my companions. They started to their feet, but had some difficulty to understand what had happened. The bear, on being wounded, nearly fell headlong into the boat; but, recovering himself, he endeavoured to find his way round to the spot where he had seen me.

“A bear, a bear!” I sung out. “Get your lances ready and run him through.” Most fortunately I had hit the monster so directly in the eyes, that he could not see his way, and this prevented him from rushing directly on me; for though I might have leaped out of his way round the back of the hut, he would in all probability have seized upon one of my half-awake companions.

This momentary delay gave time to Andrew to spring to his feet, and to draw out a lance from under the sail. He appeared at the entrance of the hut, just as the bear, slightly recovering himself, was rushing forward, with his mouth open and covered with foam, and a stream, which I could see even in that light, trickling down his face. His paws were stretched out, and in another instant he would have had me in his deadly clutch, when Andrew dashed at him with his spear. The bear seized the handle, and endeavoured to wrench it from his assailant; but the iron had entered his breast, and, in his attempt to rush on, it pierced him to the heart.