He's up to mischief of some sort still, and that's
proof positive that he's alive."

"But he may have perished in this piece of mischief," said Alf,
anxiously glancing up at the kite, which was dragging the heavily-laden
sledge rather slowly over the rough ice.

"I hope not, Alf. Shake the regulator, Butterface, and see that it's
clear."

"All right, Massa. Steam's on de berry strongest what's possible."

"Heave some o' the cargo overboard, Alf. We must make haste. Not the
meat, lad, not the meat; everything else before that. So. Mind your
helm, Chingatok; she'll steer wildish when lightened."

Captain Vane was right. When Alf had tumbled some of the heavier
portions of lading off the sledge, it burst away like a wild-horse let
go free, rendering it difficult at first for Chingatok to steady it. In
a few minutes, however, he had it again under control, and they soon
reached the berg.

"The dynamite must have gone off by accident," said the Captain to Alf,
as they stumbled over masses of ice which the explosion had brought down
from the roof of the cavern. "It's lucky it didn't happen in summer,
else the berg might have been blown to atoms. Hallo! what's this? Bits
of a polar bear, I do believe--and--what! not Benjy!"

It was indeed Benjy, flat on his back like a spread-eagle, and covered
with blood and brains; but his appearance was the worst of his case,
though it took a considerable time to convince his horrified friends of
that fact.

"I tell you I'm all right, father," said the poor boy, on recovering
from the state of insensibility into which his fall had thrown him.

"But you're covered from head to foot with blood," exclaimed the anxious
father, examining him all over, "though I can't find a cut of any sort
about you--only one or two bruises."

"You'll find a bump on the top of my head, father, the size of a
cocoa-nut. That's what knocked the senses out o' me, but the blood and
brains belong to the bear. I lay no claim to them."

"Where _is_ the bear?" asked Alf, looking round.

"Where is he?" echoed Benjy, bursting into a wild laugh.

"Oh! Massa Benjy, don't laugh," said Butterface solemnly; "you hab no
notion wot a awful look you got when you laugh wid sitch a bloody face."

This made Benjy laugh more than ever. His mirth became catching, and
the negro's solemn visage relaxed into an irrepressible grin.

"Oh, you japan-jawed porpoise!" cried Benjy, "you should have seen that
b