and by the light of the remaining embers scrambled to the door.  It was choked up by snow.  The hunter immediately began to shovel it from the narrow hole through which they entered or left the hut, and then groped his way out.  The snow was falling so thick and fast that the traveling yourte was completely buried, and the wind being—­directly opposite to the door, the snow had drifted round and concealed the aperture.

The dogs now began to howl fearfully.  This was too serious a warning to be disdained.  They smelt the savage bear of the icy seas, which in turn had been attracted to them by its sense of smelling.  Scarcely had the sagacious animals given tongue, when Sakalar, through the thick-falling snow and amid the gloom, saw a dull heavy mass rolling directly toward the tent.  He leveled his gun, and fired, after which he seized a heavy steel wood-axe, and stood ready.  The animal had at first halted, but next minute he came on growling furiously.  Ivan and Kolina now both fired, when the animal turned and ran.  But the dogs were now round him, and Sakalar behind them.  One tremendous blow of his axe finished the huge beast, and there he lay in the snow.  The dogs then abandoned him, refusing to eat fresh bear’s meat, though, when frozen, they gladly enough accept it.

The party again sought rest, after lighting an oil-lamp with a thick wick, which, in default of the fire, diffused a tolerable amount of warmth in a small place occupied by six people.  But they did not sleep; for though one of the bears was killed, the second of the almost invariable couple was probably near, and the idea of such vicinity was anything but agreeable.  These huge quadrupeds have been often known to enter a hut and stifle all its inhabitants.  The night was therefore far from refreshing, and at an earlier hour than usual all were on foot.  Every morning the same routine was followed:  hot tea, without sugar or milk, was swallowed to warm the body; then a meal, which took the place of dinner, was cooked and devoured; then the dogs were fed, and then the sledges, which had been inclined on one side, were placed horizontally.  This was always done to water their keel, to use a nautical phrase; for this water freezing they glided along all the faster.  A portion of the now hard-frozen bear was given to the dogs, and the rest placed on the sledges, after the skin had been secured toward making a new covering at night.

This day’s journey was half on the land, half on the sea, according as the path served.  It was generally very rough, and the sledges made but slow way.  The dogs, too, had coverings put on their feet, and on every other delicate place, which made them less agile.  In ordinary cases, on a smooth surface, it is not very difficult to guide a team of dogs, when the leader is a first-rate animal.  But this is an essential point, otherwise it is impossible to get along.  Every time the dogs hit on the track of a bear, or fox, or other animal, their hunting instincts are developed:  away they dart like mad, leaving the line of march, and in spite of all the efforts of the driver, begin the chase.  But if the front dog be well trained, he dashes on on one side, in a totally opposite direction, smelling and barking as if he had a new track.  If his artifice succeeds, the whole team dart away after him, and speedily losing the scent, proceed on their journey.