It was decided that the party should be made up of Mr. Dawson, the boys, Olalola, and several others. The Esquimau was to take along some provisions on the sledge, for it was thought the party might be out several days.

"This is something like it!" cried Chet, as they trudged along over the snow and ice. "I hope we bag about a hundred polar bears!"

"Why not make it two hundred while you are at it?" answered his chum, dryly.

The first day was a disappointment, as no game of any sort appeared in sight. But on the following morning Olalola said there were bears ahead, and they soon came upon unmistakable traces of the game.

They were going toward an icy hill, and rounding this they saw at least a dozen bears. Telling the Esquimau and the others to remain to the rear, Barwell Dawson crept up on the bears, taking Andy and Chet with him.

"Don't fire until I give the command," said the hunter, and both boys nodded to signify that they understood.

It was a thrilling moment for Andy and Chet, but they were used to hunting big game, so they did not get nervous. Coming up within gunshot, Mr. Dawson gave the signal, and all three fired their weapons. One bear fell dead, and another was badly wounded.

"Hurrah! that's the way to do it!" cried Andy. "Come on, let us bag some more!"

He ran forward, and Chet and Mr. Dawson followed. The polar bears were evidently dumfounded, and did not know for the moment what to do. Some turned to run away, but others arose on their hind legs to do battle.

"Some of 'em are coming for us!" cried Chet, in alarm, and then Mr.

Dawson's rifle spoke up, and another of the big fellows was laid low.

But the other bears leaped for the boys, as if to hug them to death or eat them up.

CHAPTER XXI

A FIGHT WITH POLAR BEARS

"Look out, he's coming for you!" shouted Barwell Dawson.

Both Chet and Andy heard the words, but paid no attention. Their guns were raised, and each was aiming at the bear nearest to him. Crack! went Andy's firearm, and the polar bear was halted by a wound in the forepaw.

Chet was not so fortunate, as his gun failed to go off. The next instant the polar bear leaped on him and bore him to the ice. As boy and beast went down, Barwell Dawson opened fire, and the bear was. .h.i.t in the side, a wound that made him more savage than ever.

Although Chet was sent sprawling, he did not lose his presence of mind.

As quick as a flash he rolled over, from under the very forepaws of the polar bear, and continued to roll, down a slight hill to one side.

By this time Andy and Mr. Dawson were firing again, and Olalola, coming up, used several spears with telling effect. At the increase in noise,--the Esquimau adding his yells to the cracks of the weapons,--one after another of the bears turned and commenced to run away.

"Don't go after them!" sang out Barwell Dawson. "They may turn again, if you do. Shoot them from a distance."

Once more he discharged his gun, and Andy did likewise. Then Chet scrambled up and used his firearm, the piece this time responding to the touch on the trigger.

Another of the bears was now killed outright, while the largest of the group was badly wounded in the hind quarters. This bear dropped behind the others and, drawing closer, Chet let him have a shot in the ear that finished him. The other beasts disappeared behind a hummock of ice, and that was the last seen of them.

"Are you hurt?" asked Andy of his chum, as soon as the excitement was over, and while all were reloading their weapons and the Esquimau was securing his spears.

"Got a scratch on the back of the neck," answered Chet. "It's bleeding a little, but that's all. Say, this is a dandy haul, isn't it?" he continued, enthusiastically.

"We must be more careful in the future," said Barwell Dawson. "Usually polar bears are timid and run away, but these chaps must have been very hungry, and that made them aggressive."

The largest of the polar bears was all of eight feet long, and correspondingly heavy. To lift him on the sledge was no easy task, and with the others, the hunters found they had all the game the dogs could drag over the ice and snow.

"We may as well start for the ship at once," said Barwell Dawson.

"Olalola thinks a snowstorm is coming, and we don't want to get caught out in it if we can help it."

They returned to where they had encamped for the night, and picked up the few belongings left there. Then they started direct for the shelters put up near the ship.

The last half-mile of the journey was covered in a heavy snowstorm, and all were glad when they caught sight of the _Ice King_. They found Captain Williamson and Professor Jeffer on the deck, watching for them.

"I was afraid you would be s...o...b..und," said the captain.

He and the professor were astonished at the sight of the polar bears.

The game was taken to one of the storehouses, where some of the natives were set to work to prepare it for use during the winter now close at hand.

It had been arranged that the Esquimaux and some of the sailors were to live on sh.o.r.e, while Barwell Dawson and his party, and the captain and engineer and two others, remained on the steamer. Thus all had more "elbow room" than if they had crowded the entire party in one place or the other. From the hold of the vessel several large lamps were produced and put into readiness for use.

"The darkness of the winter months is the worst feature of a trip to these parts," explained Barwell Dawson to the boys. "Of course, I hope for a great deal of moonlight, but even so the dark days are many, and lights are absolutely necessary."

"The darkness has a strange effect on some people," said Professor Jeffer. "I have heard of sailors going mad because of it. But I trust nothing of the sort happens to any one in our party."

After that, there was a good deal to do for a week around the ship and up at the hut, and the days pa.s.sed swiftly. Then, one clear morning, the explorer called to Andy and Chet.

"Come with me, if you want to get your last look at the sun for some months," said he.

They left the _Ice King_ and walked to the top of an icy cliff a mile away. Professor Jeffer was with them, and so were Dr. Slade and Mr.

Camdal.

On the top of the cliff they had to wait nearly an hour before the sun showed itself. The long beams of light flashed across the ice, and then gradually grew dimmer and dimmer, and then disappeared altogether.

"Gone!" said Chet, in a low tone. All had been very silent for several minutes.

"Yes," answered Barwell Dawson. "And you'll not see the sun again until next February!"

"What a night!" murmured Andy, and somehow his heart seemed to sink within him.

It was a silent party that returned to the ship. Andy and Chet both began to wonder how the long spell of darkness was going to affect them.

"It won't be so bad the first few days--or nights," said Andy. "But after that----" He finished with a grave shake of his head.

"Let us try to occupy our minds with work and by reading," answered Chet. "I guess it's the only way to keep from going crazy."

The lights were lit after that, and kept burning brightly all through the long winter--one large lamp on the deck of the _Ice King_, and another equally large in front of the hut on sh.o.r.e. Smaller lamps were likewise kept burning constantly indoors.

Hunting continued from week to week, and the boys aided in the shooting of more polar bears, and also in bringing down several large musk oxen.

The musk oxen, with heads resembling big buffalo bulls, were a source of great wonder to the lads.

"This is hunting, and no mistake," said Andy. "I wonder what the fellows in Maine would say to these, if they could see them."