Steve did look, to see that the boy's red hair was streaky, gummy, and shining, as he had been applying the grease wholesale--that is, with more liberality than care. For the bear's fat--some three hundred and fifty pounds' weight--was in the great caldron surrounded by steam, which hissed beneath it from the engine-boiler as the _Hvalross_ glided slowly along about half a mile from the low, regular ice cliff, which stretched away apparently without end, glittering and displaying its lovely delicate tints of pale blue wherever it was shattered or riven at the edge. "It does seem rum," said Steve to himself, "for the sun to be always up--let's see, what do you call it?--above the horizon." As he reached the caldron he found Jakobsen, with his sleeves rolled above his brawny elbows, busily at work superintending the rendering down, and he looked up and gave the boy a friendly nod. "Well, opposition cook!" cried Steve, laughing; "breakfast ready? What is it, bear-soup?" "No, sir," said the man seriously, "only the fat." "Ah, well, I won't taste that," said Steve; and he went on to where his comrades Andersen and Petersen were busy over the great outstretched bear's skin, which they were cleaning and dressing so that it should be perfectly preserved. Johannes was seated on a stool with a keg between his legs, the little tub being turned up to form a table, on which rested the great grinning head of the slain animal, whose skull he was carefully cleaning from every particle of flesh and fat, throwing the scraps overboard to the great cloud of sea-birds which wheeled and darted and pounced down upon every morsel thrown into the sea. "Ugh! what a disgusting job!" said Steve. "Think so, sir? Oh no, it's clean enough--quite fresh." And he threw over a handful of bear-flesh, after cutting it in small pieces. "Why did you do that?" asked Steve. "To give all the birds a chance." "Oh! I say, how hungry they seem!" "Yes, they do, sir. I often wonder how they live at all in the stormy times." Steve watched till the last scrap had been snatched from the crystal clear water, and then looked round as the Norseman flung in some more fragments which he had scraped from the massive skull. "Seems only fair, sir, eh? The bears get fat on the young birds when they can reach them on the cliffs, and now the birds can get fat on the bear." "Why, it's like making cannibals of them," said Steve, "eating their own children second-hand." "Yes, sir," said Johannes, pausing to whet his curious knife; "but that's how things are. One lives upon another. Birds, beasts, and fishes, they're all alike. But this will make a noble head when the skin's dressed, and a pair of glass eyes put in, and the whole stuffed out a little. It will make you think about killing it when you get home." "I don't want to think about killing the poor brute," said Steve shortly. "Here, where's my dog? Skeny!" There was a sharp bark in answer, but no dog appeared.