Bears are particularly fond of and feed upon the blubber of seal and walrus, and resort to many tricks in order to procure it. The older generation of hunters studied the habits of the arctic creatures more carefully than do the Eskimo of to-day, and affirm many interesting things as to the bear’s tactics when on the prowl for food. They—the bears—know just as much about seal hunting as the tribesmen know, i.e., that these creatures lie about on the ice in the frozen bays, but are so wary of danger that they plunge out of sight in an instant through their “agloes” or seal holes at the slightest alarm. The bear goes nowhere near the sealing ground at first, but makes his way up any slight hill or eminence in the neighbourhood from which he can view the seals, and their adjacent holes. He impresses some sort of a map of it all, and of the safest route towards it, on his mind, and then makes the best haste he can towards the broken ice along-shore. He slides down the snow on his haunches like a tobogganist, carefully avoiding any rocks and obstacles projecting themselves in his path. After that, he creeps along with extraordinary caution towards the first sleeping seal he has marked down. He is all but invisible against the white background, and he is absolutely silent. He just glides towards his victim, and then at the last, when sufficiently close, he rushes forward and kills it with a single blow of his paw. In the latter part of the spring, when the seal holes have become so enlarged that several of the animals may be making use of the same one, the bear takes careful note of this fact and adopts a bolder plan of action. He creeps up to any neighbouring hole, examines it, dives down through it, and swims along under the ice towards the place where the seals are congregated. He suddenly pops up through their own particular hole, thus cutting off their retreat, kills them at his leisure, and gorges on their fat. When hunting walrus the bear adopts different tactics. He knows that these creatures are at a great disadvantage on land, but that they love to drag themselves up on to the rocks or shore ice, and lie there asleep or basking in the sun beneath some cliff, and safely screened from their principal enemy—man. When the bear sights a walrus in such a position, he risks no direct attack, but takes careful note of the situation, loads a massive piece of ice or rock upon his shaggy shoulder, and making a cunning détour, works his way to some spot directly behind and above his intended victim. Then he launches his missile down upon its head. The skull of the walrus is so thick it is almost impossible to smash it; but at least the animal is stunned, and the bear has only to scramble down and complete his work with a blow or two of his paw. (This method of hunting, incredible though it seems, has been emphatically affirmed by several ancient hunters.)