med down upon
the powder, and the howitzer pointed.

"Let old Trull do the shooting," whispered Kit. "He will be as likely
to hit as any of us."

"Mr. Trull," Capt. Mazard began, "we must look to you to shoot those
bears for us. Pepper 'em good, now!"

At that we all stood away from the gun. The old fellow grinned,
hesitated a moment, then stepped forward, evidently not a little
flattered by the confidence reposed in him. First he sighted the piece
very methodically. The schooner lay perfectly still. A better chance
for a shot could hardly have been asked for. Palmleaf now came up with
a bit of tarred rope lighted at the stove, and smoking after the
manner of a slow match, with a red coal at the end. Trull took the
rope, and, watching his chance till both the bears were in sight and
near each other, touched the priming,--_Tizz-z-z_-WHANG!

The carriage recoiled almost as smartly as my big rifle had done. Why
is it that a person standing near a gun--especially a heavy gun--can
never see what execution is done during the first second or two? He
may have his eye on the mark at the discharge, but somehow the report
always throws his ocular apparatus out of gear. In a moment I espied
one of the bears scrambling over an ice-cake. The other had already
disappeared; or else was killed, and had fallen down some fissure.

"Man the boat!" exclaimed Raed. "I'm anxious to see the result of that
shot! Bring up those muskets, Wade!"

"Who goes on the bear-hunt, and who stays?" cried the captain.

"I'll stand by the vassel," said old Trull. "Guard and I will look out
for things on board."

"Den I'll take his place, sar!" exclaimed Palmleaf, catching the
enthusiasm of the thing.

Wade appeared with the muskets. Five of them were already loaded.
Cartridges were soon clapped into six more. Wade handed us each one,
including Palmleaf.

"See that you don't shoot any of us with it, you lubber!" he said.

"Neber fear, sar," replied the negro with a grin. "I'se called a berry
good shot at Petersburg, sar. Fit there, sar,--on the Linkum side."

"You did?"

"Yes, sar. Called a berry sure shot, sar."

Kit and Raed began to laugh.

"Come, tumble in, boys!" shouted the captain, who didn't see the point
quite so clearly as we did.

We got into the boat,--eleven of us; about as many as could find room.
Hobbs and Bonney lay back at the oars. Kit steered us up to the low
ledges of the small island on the west side of the ice-packed