Their provisions were getting low now, and it was felt that if they did not soon fall in with walruses or bears they must return as quickly as possible to the ship in order to avoid starving.  It was therefore a matter of no small satisfaction that, on turning the edge of an iceberg, they discovered a large bear walking leisurely towards them.  To drop their sledge-lines and seize their muskets was the work of a moment.  But, unfortunately, long travelling had filled the pans with snow, and it required some time to pick the touch-holes clear.  In this extremity Peter Grim seized a hatchet and ran towards the bear, while O’Riley charged it with a spear.  Grim delivered a tremendous blow at its head with his weapon; but his intention was better than his aim, for he missed the bear and smashed the corner of a hummock of ice.  O’Riley was more successful.  He thrust the spear into the animal’s shoulder; but the shoulder-blade turned the head of the weapon, and caused it to run along at least three feet just under the skin.  The wound, although not fatal, was so painful that Bruin uttered a loud roar of disapproval, wheeled round, and ran away!—­an act of cowardice so unusual on the part of a Polar bear that the whole party were taken by surprise.  Several shots were fired after him, but he soon disappeared among the ice-hummocks, having fairly made off with O’Riley’s spear.

The disappointment caused by this was great, but they had little time to think of it, for soon after a stiff breeze of wind sprang up, which freshened into a gale, compelling them to seek the shelter of a cluster of icebergs, in the midst of which they built a snow-hut.  Before night a terrific storm was raging, with the thermometer 40 deg. below zero.  The sky became black as ink, drift whirled round them in horrid turmoil, and the wild blast came direct from the north, over the frozen sea, shrieking and howling in its strength and fury.

All that night and the next day it continued.  Then it ceased, and for the first time that winter a thaw set in, so that ere morning their sleeping-bags and socks were thoroughly wetted.  This was of short duration, however.  In a few hours the frost set in again as intense as ever, converting all their wet garments and bedding into hard cakes of ice.  To add to their misfortunes their provisions ran out, and they were obliged to abandon the hut and push forward towards the ship with the utmost speed.  Night came on them while they were slowly toiling through the deep drifts that the late gale had raised, and to their horror they found they had wandered out of their way, and were still but a short distance from their snow-hut.  In despair they returned to pass the night in it, and spreading their frozen sleeping-bags on the snow, they lay down, silent and supperless, to rest till morning.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Unexpected arrivals—­The rescue party—­Lost and found—­Return to the ship.