the rear.

A massacre of helpless and beautiful animals followed, for the next few
moments, for Regnar, with a single tap on the nose, killed two Greenland
seals; and following his example, Peter and Waring disposed of as many
more. Suddenly a loud cry from the latter broke the silent butchery.

[Illustration: "AND THE NEXT SECOND THE GLITTERING TEETH WERE ABOUT TO
CLOSE UPON HIS HELPLESS VICTIM." Page 237.]

"Look! Stop that old hood! That makes ten. My goodness! I never see such
seal! That's right, Peter, head him off. Hit him again, Waring! Take
that, you old bladder-nose!"

The seal, a monstrous one, a veteran male, had attempted to scale the
higher mounds, but surrounded by his more agile enemies, halted and
showed fight. In vain Waring and Peter showered tremendous blows upon
his head with their beechen clubs, and even the heavy axe of Orloff fell
upon his natural helmet of air-distended skin, with a violence whose
only effect was to increase the anger of the enraged amphibia, and fill
the scene of the strife with hollow sounds, like the hoarse booming of a
big drum.

At last Waring missed his aim, and his club, which was slung at his
wrist by a kind of sword knot, was seized in the jaws of the seal, and
his succeeding rush jerked the frightened lad from his footing beneath
the fore-flippers of the animal. It was only the work of an instant for
those terrible jaws to grind the club into splinters, and the next
second the glittering teeth were about to close upon his helpless
victim. At that juncture a huge rusty tube was thrust past Regnar's head
into the very face of the seal; a tremendous concussion threw him upon
the ice, stunned and deafened; and the monster, rearing into the air,
seemed to be fairly dashed to the ice, shivering with the tremor of
death.

"Are you hurt, George?" asked La Salle, breathless with haste and
restrained emotion.

"No, Charley; I am safe, thanks to you."

And the lad, still weak with his previous illness, fear, and excitement,
rose, threw his arms around his preserver's neck, and burst into a
passion of tears.

"Better look, Regnar. Guess blow him head off too," grumbled Peter, with
a strange mixture of vexation, pleasure, and humor in his tone, for he
loved Regnar, disliked to see men or boys cry, and knew that Regnar's
misadventure was more unpleasant than dangerous.

In a moment or so Regnar arose, holding his head with both hands, and an
evident feeling of uncertai