The regions where the walrus dwells are equally the abode of the white, or polar, bear, and it is possible that these two great creatures sometimes come into collision. Not that the walrus would ever interfere with the bear, but, in spite of its size, the converse may sometimes be the case, when the latter is pressed by hunger. In such an encounter I should think, myself, that the walrus would have the best of it. With his thick skin and still thicker blubber underneath it, he could hardly be very much injured by the teeth and claws of the bear, whereas a dig of his own tusks might well put the latter _hors de combat_, or even terminate his existence. For large and strong as a polar bear is—and he exceeds even the grizzly in size—he is inferior in both these particulars to the vast bulk and huge, though unwieldy, strength of the walrus. Doubtless he is aware of this fact, nor have I ever heard of such a combat being witnessed. Still, as I say, it might occur, and then what a sight it would be! What mighty blows and buffets! what horrible growlings and roarings!—the bear, no doubt, reared on its hind legs, striving to tear at the throat or neck of the walrus as the most vulnerable part. The great seal, however, swinging its huge head from side to side, would shake off, each time, the grasp of its shaggy assailant, and at length seizing an opportunity to which the methods of the latter would perhaps have contributed, might transfix his neck or shoulder with a terrific downstroke of its tusks; crushing him at the same time on to the ice or hardened snow, now all bloodstained with the conflict. But we will not pursue further an imaginary picture. But though they can defend themselves when the necessity arises, walruses are not of a combative disposition. They go in herds, the members of which are much attached to each other, so that an attack upon any one arouses the resentment, and may even provoke the retaliation, of the rest. When tamed, too, walruses have shown themselves as affectionate towards human beings as any dog could be. One brought alive from Archangel to St. Petersburg, in 1829, became deeply attached to its keeper—a lady, Madame Dennebecq by name.