wing us," answered Johnson.

"The bear which is following us?" repeated the doctor.

"Yes, the last two days."

"The last two days! Have you seen him?"

"Yes, he's a mile to leeward."

"And you didn't tell us, Johnson?"

"What was the use?"

"True," said the doctor; "we have no ball to fire at him."

"Not a slug, a bit of iron, nor a bolt!" said the old sailor.

The doctor was silent, and began to think intently. Soon he said to
the boatswain,--

"You are sure the bear is following us?"

"Yes, Doctor, he's lying in wait to eat us. He knows we can't escape
him!"

"Johnson!" said the doctor, touched by the despairing accent of his
companion.

"His food is sure," continued the poor man, who was beginning to be
delirious; "he must be half famished, and I don't see why we need keep
him waiting any longer!"

"Be quiet, Johnson!"

"No, Doctor; if we've got to come to it, why should we prolong the
animal's sufferings? He's hungry as we are; he has no seal to eat!
Heaven sends him us men; well, so much the better for him!"

Thereupon Johnson went out of his mind; he wanted to leave the
snow-house. The doctor had hard work to prevent him, and he only
succeeded by saying, as if he meant it,--

"To-morrow I shall kill that bear!"

"To-morrow!" said Johnson, as if he had awakened from a bad dream.

"Yes, to-morrow."

"You have no ball!"

"I shall make one."

"You have no lead!"

"No, but I have some quicksilver."

Thereupon the doctor took the thermometer; it marked +50 degrees. He
went outside, placed the instrument on the ice, and soon returned. The
outside temperature was -50 degrees. Then he said to the old sailor,--

"Now go to sleep, and wait till to-morrow."

That night they endured the horrors of hunger; only the doctor and the
boatswain were able to temper them with a little hope. The next
morning, at dawn, the doctor rushed out, followed by Johnson, and ran
to the thermometer; all the mercury had sunk into the bulb, in the
form of a compact cylinder. The doctor broke the instrument, and
seized in his gloved fingers a piece of very hard metal. It was a real
bullet.

"Ah, Doctor," shouted the old sailor, "that's a real miracle! You are
a wonderful man!"

"No, my friend," answered the doctor, "I am only a man with a good
memory, who has read a good deal."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"I happened to remember something Captain Ross related in the account
of his voyage: he said he shot th