Harry tremblingly pulled a match from his pocket and struck it. The arm was there, reaching and clawing, and behind it gleamed two fierce little eyes. Joe snatched the 45-70 from the corner and began pumping shot after shot at the little window. In the confines of the little room the report was deafening, and the match went out at the first shot. Harry lighted another. The arm hung limp and there was a heaving and straining without that fairly cracked the galley walls, then silence. “Ghost or devil or what all, I’ve finished him,” said Joe, after watching for a moment with pointed rifle. Harry relighted the lamp. His courage was coming back, but his nerves were still shaky. Then he flung wide the door while Joe held the rifle in readiness. Darkness was there, but neither sound nor ghost. Cautiously, lamp in hand and rifle ready, they entered the space between the ice and the galley sides, and there they saw their ghost motionless. He was bulky and white, so bulky that he filled the three-foot space tight, with his arm still stuck through the cabin window. “Well,” said Joe, “he’s white enough for a ghost, but he isn’t one. He’s a white bear, and a fine one. Let’s get him out of that and skin him before he freezes.” In the light of the ship’s lanterns they tugged and wrestled for an hour to get the great creature out through the igloo entrance to the deck. There they skinned him and cut him up, hanging the four quarters in what they henceforth named their refrigerator. The pelt was a fine one, in the full strength of the winter coat. In spite of the cold and dim light, they took it off carefully, muzzle, claws, and all. “There,” said Joe, “that skin will bring a hundred dollars in San Francisco, if we can ever get it there. It is a good night’s work, if we were scared to death. What do you suppose brought him?” “Don’t know,” replied Harry, “unless it was the smell of that salmon.” Both sniffed, and on the air from the igloo caught the faint odor of the salted salmon that they had put on the galley range to simmer and freshen. He was probably right. The white bear has a keen scent, and the odor of cooking will draw him a long way across the ice. They repaired the window, re-closed the igloo entrance, and though somewhat apprehensive, slept soundly and unmolested until daylight. Then they sought and found tracks showing where the bear had climbed a drift and come aboard by way of the stern. Other tracks seemed to show that their intruder had a companion that had circled the ship on the snow but had not boarded it. This adventure gave them fresh meat, the first for a long time, and they ate bear steaks till they were weary of them; but it also gave them an idea for the capture of more valuable pelts.