"I'm not so particular about a dangerous beast," said the doctor; and, kneeling in the stem of the boat, he rested his elbows on the gunwale, took a long aim, and fired, the bullet striking the bear's shoulder with a dull thud. "Well done! splendid shot!" cried the captain. "Right to the heart. The brute hardly moved." But, all the same, as the smoke rose he stood ready to send another shot at the monster if it should prove only to be stunned. "Here, doctor," he said, "give him the other barrel, so as to make sure. I don't want any one to be clawed." The doctor, nothing loth, took aim again, and fired his second cartridge, this bullet also taking effect; but the bear did not move. "Dead enough," said the captain. "Give way, my lads." The men pulled, and the boat was rowed right up to a tiny valley in the ice, which just gave them room to land and group round the monstrous bear, the gentlemen with their guns ready for a shot, the two Norwegians with their spears over their shoulders. The doctor's eyes sparkled with delight, for this bear also was a magnificent specimen, with enormously long, fine hair, decidedly whiter than the coat of the brute they had destroyed at Jan Mayen. "I did not know that you were such a shot, Handscombe," said the captain. "Oh, a mere accident," said the doctor modestly. "Wasn't it a pity you let your chance go, Steve?" "Oh, I don't mind," said the lad, planting his foot on the bear's shoulder, and stooping to look for the wound. Then he started, and glanced at Johannes, who, like Jakobsen, stood leaning on his spear. He read confirmation in the man's quiet eyes, and he turned round excitedly to his companions. "Why, the bear's dead!" he cried. "Of course it is," said the captain, laughing. "We should not be standing here if it were not." "But I mean dead before Mr Handscombe fired!" "What!" cried the doctor, flushing red, while the captain went down on one knee to raise a paw. "Yes," he cried, "and frozen stiff. It must have been dead for many hours, eh, Johannes?" "Yes, sir," said the man, kneeling down to part the fur, "many hours. Yes, here it is! Look! in the chest. The walrus got his tusk well home." "Eh? What?" cried the captain, as the Norseman pointed to a great gaping wound; from which the blood had been washed by the sea. The wound was in the upper part of the animal's chest, in a position where a dagger-like stroke would penetrate to the heart; and the bear had evidently swum for some distance, crawled there, and, after drawing itself up, quietly died. "But I don't quite understand," said the captain. "It is the walrus we saw tumble the bear off the cliff into the sea yesterday." "What!" cried the doctor excitedly. "Then I did not kill it?" "No," said the captain, laughing. "You cannot kill a dead thing." "But--but--" stammered the doctor. "You see, doctor, your profession is curing, not killing," cried the captain, laughing. "Never mind: better luck next time."