ed its feet, and lunged at Bobby.

CHAPTER XI

WHEN THE ICEBERG TURNED

But the bear had spent its vitality, and as Bobby sprang nimbly aside it
fell at the very spot upon which the young hunter had stood when he
delivered his last shot, struggled a little, gave a gasp or two, and
died. And when Jimmy came running up a moment later Bobby with great
pride was standing by the side of his prostrate victim.

"We got him, Jimmy! We got him!" said he in high glee, touching the
carcass with his toe.

"But, Bobby, what a chance you took!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Supposing you
hadn't stopped him!"

"No chance of that at all," declared Bobby in his usual positive tone.
"All I wanted was time to load, and I knew I'd get him."

"Well, I'm thankful you got him, instead of he getting you, and I was
afraid for a minute he was going to get us both," and Jimmy breathed
relief, as he placed his foot against the dead bear. "My, but he's a big
one! I don't think I ever saw a bigger one!"

"He _is_ a ripper!" admitted Bobby proudly. "Won't the folks be glad!"

And Bobby was justified in his pride. He had fired upon the beast in
the first instance, not through the lust of killing but because he was
prompted to do so by the instinct of the hunter who lives upon the
product of his weapons. In this far northern land it is the instinct of
self-preservation to kill, for here if man would live he must kill.

In Labrador they butcher wild animals for food just as we butcher steers
and sheep and hogs for food, and the only difference is that the wild
creature, matching its instincts and fleetness and strength against the
hunter's skill, has a reasonable chance of escape, while our domestic
animals, deprived of liberty, are driven helpless to the slaughter.

In our kindlier clime the rich soil, too, produces vegetables and fruits
upon which we might do very well, if necessary, without ever eating
meat; but in the bleak land where Bobby and Jimmy lived the summer is
short and the soil is barren, and there are no vegetables, and no fruits
save scattered berries on the inland hillsides. And so it is that here
men must depend upon flesh and fish for their existence and they must
kill if they would live.

Every lad on The Labrador, therefore, is taught from earliest youth to
take pride in his profession of hunter and trapper and fisherman--for on
The Labrador every man is a professional hunter and trapper and
fisherman--and to strive for s