They could tell that there was some mystery attached to the carefully-covered object in the stern, and it was useless for us to try and put them off by saying it was only a heap of bear robes, for now and again the object moved. They would have uncovered it to see what was there, but I sternly forbade them to do so. Guesses of all kinds were made as to what the mysterious heap consisted of, but although many tried to unravel the secret not one succeeded. Some guessed young bears, another a nest of foxes--others said seals, and one averred it could be nothing but a young walrus, from its size and shape, but none hit upon anything near the truth. The inlet was reached at last, the sledge travelling over the smooth ice of the haven at a great pace, but not before our gallant skipper was ready on the beach to welcome me and my men back. We shook hands, and I then told the men to stand back, as I had something I wished to tell the captain. They stood away a few yards, in a circle, so as to completely surround us and the sledge, as if they were afraid it contained something that might escape. Hurriedly I told the captain the principal points of our adventure. He was struck all of a heap, as our American cousins say, and was at first disinclined to credit my story of apparently superhuman return to life. However, he quietly lifted the blanket, and looking at the uncanny creature beneath, their eyes met. The captain started as if he had seen a savage lion, but quickly regaining his equanimity, gave orders for four hands to bring down a “barrow,” as the implement (which looks like a bier) is called. Twenty hands started for the barrow, and in five minutes the doctor was lying on it, while Chips and I walked behind with his surplus beard and hair coiled in our hands, to prevent it from trailing on the ground and throwing the bearers down. The doctor was put to bed, well fed for two or three days, at the end of which time he could stand, and even walk a short distance alone; and within three weeks was able to form one of the members of our shooting-parties, and although fifty-eight years of age, was as strong and hearty a man as any of us. * * * * * Spring at last came, and by July we had a full cargo; consequently, on the last of that month, we steered south-west, homeward bound for bonny Scotland and the relatives we had been parted from so long. The doctor, of whom we had grown fond, was a very cheery companion, and looked a strange figure as he walked about the deck, with his carefully-combed and brushed hair and beard coiled neatly round his waist, and usually fastened off with a bit of scarlet bunting.