e said, "about four bells in the middle watch,
just when the night was at its darkest. There was a bit of a moon, but
the clouds were blowing across it so that you couldn't see far from the
ship. John M'Leod, the harpooner, came aft from the foc'sle-head and
reported a strange noise on the starboard bow.

"I went forrard and we both heard it, sometimes like a bairn crying and
sometimes like a wench in pain. I've been seventeen years to the country
and I never heard seal, old or young, make a sound like that. As we
were standing there on the foc'sle-head the moon came out from behind
a cloud, and we both saw a sort of white figure moving across the ice
field in the same direction that we had heard the cries. We lost sight
of it for a while, but it came back on the port bow, and we could just
make it out like a shadow on the ice. I sent a hand aft for the rifles,
and M'Leod and I went down on to the pack, thinking that maybe it might
be a bear. When we got on the ice I lost sight of M'Leod, but I pushed
on in the direction where I could still hear the cries. I followed them
for a mile or maybe more, and then running round a hummock I came right
on to the top of it standing and waiting for me seemingly. I don't
know what it was. It wasn't a bear any way. It was tall and white and
straight, and if it wasn't a man nor a woman, I'll stake my davy it
was something worse. I made for the ship as hard as I could run, and
precious glad I was to find myself aboard. I signed articles to do my
duty by the ship, and on the ship I'll stay, but you don't catch me on
the ice again after sundown."

That is his story, given as far as I can in his own words. I fancy what
he saw must, in spite of his denial, have been a young bear erect upon
its hind legs, an attitude which they often assume when alarmed. In
the uncertain light this would bear a resemblance to a human figure,
especially to a man whose nerves were already somewhat shaken. Whatever
it may have been, the occurrence is unfortunate, for it has produced a
most unpleasant effect upon the crew. Their looks are more sullen than
before, and their discontent more open. The double grievance of being
debarred from the herring fishing and of being detained in what they
choose to call a haunted vessel, may lead them to do something rash.
Even the harpooners, who are the oldest and steadiest among them, are
joining in the general agitation.

Apart from this absurd outbreak of superstition