Right up to the vessel did the outrageous beast chase me, and then when I got on board and called for guns, it slunk away into the shadows of a berg and was seen no more. My feet were cut to the bone; I was frost-nipped in twenty places, and you may imagine I had had a poor enough time of it. But the thought of that canvas over-all which I had thrown away first kept me cheerful. It was indeed a very humorous circumstance. Ye see it was a borrowed one. I got down below to a berth, and the steward, who was rated as a doctor, tended me. But Captain Black put sourness on the whole affair. He came down to my bunk and said, "Where's that Henry?" "Lying quiet on the ice," said I. "Do you mean to say you left that rifle behind? My rifle!" "I did that same. The thing wasn't strong enough to fire a cartridge. I tried two." And then Black used violent and unjustifiable language. I was in no condition to give him a fair exchange. Besides, I made an unfortunate admission. I owned up to taking the rifle apart and cleaning her. I owned up, too, that I'd been free with the oil. Black stuck out his face at me, and his fringe of beard fairly bristled. "And you call yourself an engineer! You talk about having gone through the shops! Put your filthy engine-room oil on my Henry's locks, would you? Why, you idiot, have you yet to learn that oil freezes up here as hard as cheese, and you've made up the lock space of that poor rifle into one solid chunk?" "I never thought of that." "To look at your face, you've yet to start thinking at all." So we had it out, and as I was now aroused, I gave him some words on the inefficient way he ran his ship. At last I threatened to prophesy again, and this cooled him off. I offered to go hunting bears for him and he became quite polite. "I'll make you an offer touching those bears," he said. "For every skin you bring here aboard, I'll give you seven shillings [v]bonus above your share as a member of the ship's company. I'll give you another rifle, two rifles if you like, and a fine bag of cartridges. But, you beggar, I make one condition. You take yourself off and away from the ship to do your hunting. You may make yourself a snow house to stay in, and live on the meat you kill." "You wish to murder me?" "I wish to be rid of you, and that's the truth. Man, I believe you're Jonah resurrected. We've had no luck since first you put your foot on my deck planks. And, what's more, the crew is of my way of thinking. So, refuse my offer, and I'll put you in irons and keep you there till I can fling you ashore at [v]Dundee." Now there is no doubt Black meant what he said, and so I did not waste dignity by arguing with him. I had no taste for the irons, and as for being turned out on the ice--well, I had a plan ahead. But I didn't intend to leave Black more comfortable than I could help.