Right enough, there before us with the dispersing fog as a background the bear stands like a yellow shadow. In less than a second we have got the seal-boat out on the water; sportsmen and photographers all tumble in, in company with their guns and their oars, so that five men lie in a mixed heap at the bottom of the boat. It is not long before the oarsmen are in their places and bearing down towards the ice-floe where the polar bear is sending foam flecks flying over its shoulder. It is a few hundred yards away--nearer and nearer we approach and see the bear more and more distinctly. It is three or four years old, and those of us who have never seen the polar bear living in its natural surroundings are delighted to see it disporting itself on the floe. It has not yet noticed the boat approaching. Contented to play with the top of an ice-clump, it stands up on its hind legs, striking it with a fore paw, and sending the snowflakes flying around it. Then it turns a somersault, lies on its back and waves its four legs in the air, jumps up and starts to play “peek-a-boo” with itself round the ice-clump. We are close up to it ... twenty meters, ten meters.... Still it does not see us, for it is lying behind the clump. We round it, and just when we are five meters away the bear hears the splash of the oars. It rises up on its hind legs, stands like a statue for a second, gazes at us doubtfully, then turns round and rushes away in a heavy gallop over the floe, sending the snow flying in all directions. From the other side of the floe we hear a splash; it has jumped into the sea to try and save itself by swimming.... The three oarsmen bend their backs; we round the floe and see the bear swimming towards “Hobby.” It is a thrilling moment! Here are three strong men rowing until the boat trembles under their exertions: while the perspiration runs from them, the distance between boat and bear increases, and we believe for a moment that it will be able to get away by reaching an ice-floe on the other side of the vessel. Should it manage to get there, it has a good chance of saving its skin. But the poor beast cannot keep up this great speed for long; it swims more and more slowly and, catching sight of “Hobby,” decides to change its course towards a smaller floe onto which it jumps, gallops over it and slips into the sea on the other side. Our boat gains on it now with every stroke of the oars, and we can hear its heavy breathing. A little later we are close up to the bear; it lifts its head and gives a terrified glance at the boat, then turns towards “Hobby” and tries to cast itself underneath while Berge stands filming on the deck. We are three meters from the vessel’s side. The bear turns its tired shiny eyes towards the boat, opens its large mouth and gives a hoarse roar. An oar is stretched towards it which it bites into splinters.