narl,
which you might have heard a mile, and, with her eyes flashing fire,
darted upon us. We received her in a body, all close together, with our
lances to her breast; but she was so large and strong, that she beat us
all back, and two of us fell; fortunately the others held their ground,
and as she was then on end, three bullets were put into her chest, which
brought her down. I never saw so large a beast in my life. I don't
wish to make her out larger than she really was, but I have seen many a
bullock at Smithfield which would not weigh two-thirds of her. After
that, we had some trouble in despatching her; and while we were so
employed, the wind blew up in gusts from the northward, and the snow
fell heavy. The men were for returning to the ship immediately, which
certainly was the wisest thing for us all to do; but I thought that the
snowstorm would blow over in a short time, and not wishing to lose so
fine a skin, resolved to remain and flay the beast; for I knew that if
left there a few hours, as the foxes could not get hold of the carcass
of the whale, which had not grounded, they would soon finish the bear
and the cub, and the skins be worth nothing. Well, the other men went
back to the ship, and as it was, the snow-storm came on so thick that
they lost their way, and would never have found her, if it was not that
the bell was kept tolling for a guide to them. I soon found that I had
done a very foolish thing; instead of the storm blowing over, the snow
came down thicker and thicker; and before I had taken a quarter of the
skin off, I was becoming cold and numbed, and then I was unable to
regain the ship, and with every prospect of being frozen to death before
the storm was over. At last, I knew what was my only chance. I had
flayed all the belly of the bear, but had not cut her open. I ripped
her up, tore out all her inside, and then contrived to get into her
body, where I lay, and, having closed up the entrance hole, was warm and
comfortable, for the animal heat had not yet been extinguished. This
manoeuvre, no doubt, saved my life: and I have heard that the French
soldiers did the same in their unfortunate Russian campaign, killing
their horses and getting inside to protect themselves from the dreadful
weather. Well, Jacob, I had not lain more than half-an-hour, when I
knew by sundry jerks and tugs at my newly invented hurricane-house that
the foxes were busy--and so they were sure, enough. There m