Paddy was back in a moment. He had all his wits about him, and his first act was to free the seal club.

His next act was one which only a brave, merry-hearted Irishman would have thought of. He thrust the alpenstock into Bruin's mouth as if it had been a horse's bit, and, mounting the brute's back, pinned him by seizing the staff close to the side of each jaw.

"I've got him," he cried.

Crack went the alpenstock, and down went Paddy; but Byarnie was up, and in a second he had felled his terrible antagonist.

There lay the dead bear on his side, his tongue lolling out, his dead eyes turned to the sky, and there stood Byarnie and Paddy, both puffing.

"Did you ever see the loikes?" says Paddy.

"No," Byarnie replied; "but, thank Heaven, you are safe. Let us go home."

But Paddy carried out his tobogganing scheme all the same.

It was a very simple one, but afforded no end of capital exercise and genuine fun. Carpenter Jones, _alias_ "Chips," manufactured the tobogganing sledges. Chips said he was glad of the job--anything to keep his hands in. With the help of his a.s.sistants he made a score of them in a single day. Very simple they were, in shape somewhat similar to those used by the Canadians, only these seated four abreast, so there was, so Paddy said, four times the fun.

The tobogganing hill was high and round, but not very steep; the top of it was a tableland; at the foot was an enormous bank of drifted snow, and here the fun came in again, as you will presently see.

But let us go with the tobogganing party for just once in a way.

It is eleven o'clock in the forenoon. There is a shimmer of yellowish white light in the east. There is a moon also. Fancy moonlight at mid-day! What with these two lights, the aurora, which has been dancing so merrily for many hours, looks slightly pale, though the colours displayed are more glorious than any pantomimic transformation scene your mind could imagine. Alongside the _Icebear_ are two huge sledges; one is laden with the tobogganing boards and a few merry sailors, the other with men and officers, and such a row there is and such a din!

What with the wild shouts of Jack and Joe, the Eskimos; the cracking of whips; the snarling, barking, and yelping of the dogs, the noise is deafening and indescribable.

But they are off at last.

The men have breakfasted well, and, although it is very cold--ten degrees below zero--they are happy, nay, even boisterously merry. Paddy starts a song and all join in the chorus. Claude is there; he knows that Paddy is a favourite, and lets him do pretty much as he pleases.

The doctor is there also in case of an accident, and he sings and laughs like the rest, for he is quite a boy, although an old and very learned one.

Mercy on us! how those dogs do fly over the ground to be sure. They are as fleet as the reindeer. Now and then one falls and is dragged a little way, but always manages to scramble up again.

"Hoorup, Hooreeup, Hooree--e?" screams Joe. Crack, crack, crack goes the whip.

Higher and wilder rises Paddy's song and chorus. Never before were the echoes of the mountains awakened by such boisterous mirth. Even bears asleep in their dens and caves hear and arouse themselves to listen.

"Hoorup, Hooreeup, Hooree--ee--e?"

The sledge goes over a rough bank, and Tom Tatters tumbles out. Boy Bounce waves his cap and laughs at him, but on goes the sledge, over the hills and round the hills and across some frozen streams, and at last straight up the side of the tobogganing hill, and two more men fall out here, and all the rest are thrown on their backs with their heels in the air--what sailors call catching crabs.

"We--e, wee--e, woh--ip!"

The sledge comes to a standstill on the flat top of the mountain, and the dogs stand still also, their tongues lolling out, and panting.

The other sledge is coming up fast and furious, and soon is on the ground.

Then the fun begins.

Four men seat themselves on a tobogganing sledge, and others start them,--with a will too. Down they shoot, the others watching.

The sensation is like that of descending from a balloon with a sense of pleasure subst.i.tuted for that of danger. The moon and stars are hardly seen by those bold tobogganers. Faster and faster, they can hardly believe they have fairly started till they are at the bottom, and-- buried in the wreath of snow.

They are completely buried. Those above for some moments cannot see them at all.

Paddy O'Connell was in the first lot, and he declared that "the dacint burial at the foot av the hill was the best av it entoirely."

The fun has fairly commenced, and sledge follows sledge down the mountain-side, sometimes three abreast. Even Claude himself and the doctor embark at last, both in the same boat, and find the sensation so delightful that they keep it up.

The dogs have exercise at this game too, for they have to gallop along the plateau to haul the sledges up again.

It is a mad scene and a merry one.

But lo! while the fun is at its fastest, "Look! look!" cried Dr Barrett, pointing skywards; and every eye is turned upwards.

A little purple cloud!

It was twelve o'clock and almost daylight.

What a shout rent the air then!

The sun would rise to-morrow.

Claude and Dr Barrett shook hands, but neither spoke; their hearts were too full. Perhaps both were at that moment breathing a prayer of thankfulness to the kind Father who had hitherto protected them from every danger and from sickness itself.

There were great doings that night in the _Icebear_ and in the _Icebear's_ snow-house. A supper on board, a concert on sh.o.r.e!

Paddy's Irish jig was p.r.o.nounced to be "a caution out and out," so the men phrased it.

Boy Bounce's "break-down" almost outstripped it.

Even Byarnie must take the floor to dance all by himself a wild Norse "hoolichan."

If you can imagine a rhinoceros tripping it on the light fantastic toe, then you see honest Byarnie. If you cannot, then I have only to confess that figures of speech fail me.

The doctor played a selection of airs on his violin, that the engineer, who, like most good engineers, was a Scotchman, declared made him "laugh and greet (cry) by turns."

Why were those mariners--far away in the desolate regions of the Pole-- so happy, so gay?

Because they were hopeful. The purple cloud had done it all. The sun was returning. The long Arctic night had received notice to quit, and in two or three months at most summer would be with them; they would accomplish the object of their adventurous voyage, and bear up for home.

Home! What a charm it has for a sailor's heart!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE SUN'S RETURN--HOPES AND FEARS.

Both Claude and the doctor were on a high hill-top next day to watch for the coming of the sun. Nor were they disappointed. About noon the sun duly put in an appearance, looking fiery-fierce and angry through a kind of blue-grey haze that lay along the horizon.

The doctor was ready prepared to take sights, and did so coolly enough, despite the sun's angry glare--coolly in more ways than one, for as he could only work with bare hands, whenever his fingers came in contact with the bra.s.s parts of his instruments they seemed to freeze thereto, and the sensation was that of touching red-hot metal.