than slid to the
bottom. It was an awful plunge! I almost shut my eyes in horror--but--
but--kept them open. At the bottom there was a curve like a frozen
wave. I left the top of this curve and finished the descent in the air.
The crash at the end was awful, but I survived it. There was no time
for thought. I looked back. The bear, as I expected, had watched me in
amazement, and was preparing to follow--for bears, you know, fear
nothing. It sat down at the top of the slope, and stuck its claws well
into the ice in front of it. I ran back to the foot of the slope to
meet it. Its claws lost hold, and it came down thundering, like a huge
round stone from a mountain side. I stood, and, measuring exactly its
line of descent, stuck the butt of my spear into the ice with the point
sloping upwards. Then I retired to see the end, for I did not dare to
stand near to it. It happened as I had wished: the bear came straight
on my spear. The point went in at the breast-bone, and came out at the
small of the back; but the bear was not checked. It went on, taking the
spear along with it, and sending out streams of blood like the spouts of
a dying whale. When at last it ceased to roll, it lay stretched out
upon the ice--dead!"

The wizard paused, and looked round. There was a deep-drawn sigh, as if
the audience had been relieved from a severe strain of attention. And
so they had; and the wizard accepted that involuntary sigh as an
evidence of the success of his effort to amuse.

"How big was that bear?" asked Ippegoo, gazing on his master with a look
of envious admiration.

"How big?" repeated Ujarak; "oh, as big--far bigger than--than--the--
biggest bear I have ever seen."

"Oh, then it was an _invisible_ bear, was it?" asked Okiok in surprise.

"How? What do you mean?" demanded the wizard, with an air of what was
meant for grave contempt.

"If it was bigger than the _biggest_ bear you have ever seen," replied
Okiok, with a stupid look; "then you could not have seen _it_, because,
you know, it could not well be bigger than itself."

"Huk! that's true," exclaimed one, while others laughed heartily, for
Eskimos dearly love a little banter.

"Boh! ba! boo!" exclaimed Simek, after a sudden guffaw; "that's not
equal to what _I_ did to the walrus. Did I ever tell it you, friends?--
but never mind whether I did or not. I'll tell it to our guest the
Kablunet now."

The jovial hunter was moved to this voluntary