“We can but pull our skates off if we do not make good progress,” said Philip; so they were sitting down to put them on when Charley exclaimed that he must have a look for the bear; if he was there he would find him out. Off he ran with his spear. He had not been absent half a minute when he came running back, crying out, “Here he is, sure enough, in among the roots of an old tree under the bank. Come, Phil; come, Harry, come; we shall have him, sure enough, for he does not seem inclined to move. I suspect the tap you gave him, Phil, with your axe, hurt him more than we fancied.”
The latter remarks were uttered as the three brothers, with their spears ready for action, hurried towards the spot Charley had indicated. There, indeed, was a brown heap, from out of which a set of sharp teeth and a pair of twinkling eyes appeared. “There, what do you think of that?” asked Charley. The bear lay in a sort of root-formed cavern, under the bank. Some snow had drifted into it, which had been protected from the rain; on the snow were wide stains of blood. His wound would certainly make the bear more savage, and might not have much weakened him. Still, forgetting the risk they were running, they all three made a rush at him with their spears. He attempted to get up, seizing Charley’s spear from his grasp, and biting furiously at it, but Philip’s and Harry’s pinned him to the bank. Still his strength was great, and it was not till Philip was able to get a blow at his head with his axe that his struggles ceased.
“Hurrah, hurrah! now we may live here for a week, like Robinson Crusoe,” shouted Charley, highly delighted with their success.
“And leave those at home to believe that we are lost,” said Philip.
“No, no, I don’t mean that; only if we were obliged to stop we might contrive to be very jolly,” said Charley.
They had no little trouble in dragging the bear up the bank, and it then became a question what they should do with him. They could not carry him away, that was very certain. Cutting him up was not a pleasant operation, yet they could not hang him up whole.
“We will secure his tongue, and we must come back for him as soon as we can,” said Phil.
They had been so busy that they had not observed that the rain had ceased, and that instead of it a thick fog had sprung up again, completely obscuring the shores. It was so warm that there could be no doubt that the ice must be rapidly melting. Had this happened at the end of winter it would not have signified, as it would have required many days then to weaken the ice materially. Still, if it had not been for the fog they could have pushed across without fear at once.
“Why did we come without a compass?” cried Philip, not for the first time. “Remember, you fellows, never to leave home without one. You do not know when you may require it in this country.” After sitting down on the bank for some time, Philip started up, exclaiming, “They will be breaking their hearts with anxiety about us. I must go. You two have plenty of food, and if you will promise me that you will not stir from the island till a boat comes for you, or till the weather clears and the ice hardens thoroughly, I will go across to the settlement and send on home overland. I know that I can hit it, as there is a breeze blowing, and I took the bearings before the rain came on.” Harry and Charley were very unwilling to let their brother go, but at length, when he had persuaded them that there was no danger to himself, they agreed to obey his wishes.
Having disencumbered himself of his axe and an overcoat, as well as of the remainder of D’Arcy’s fish, which he left for his brothers, Philip buckled on his skates, and taking one of the spears in his hand, away he glided; his brothers, standing on the shore, watched him—his figure growing less and less distinct, till he disappeared in the thick mist which hung over the lake. “I wish that we had not let him go,” cried Charley. “Suppose any accident should happen to him, how dreadful. Couldn’t we call him back? He would hear us if we shouted.”