Chapter 37 Chapter 5 The Seal and the Bear

Hatteras and the doctor went back to the igloo. "You know," said the former. "Polar bears hunt seals as their main food. They spy around crevices all day long and whenever a seal appears on the ice, they crush it to death with their paws. A bear is not afraid to see a seal appear, quite the opposite .” "I thought I understood your plan," said the doctor. "It's dangerous." "But it has a chance of success," added the captain, "and it should be done this way. I'm going to slip on the ice in sealskin. Don't waste time, load your guns, and leave them to me."

The doctor was speechless: he too would do what his companions ventured; Go down to the sled. There Hatteras disguised himself as a seal, and put on the skin, which almost covered him. "Well," he said to the doctor, "go over to Johnson; I'll wait a while to disorient my adversary." "Courage, Hatteras!" said the doctor. "Quiet, don't come out until I shoot." The doctor quickly ran behind the mound where Johnson was hiding. "Are you ready?" asked the latter. "Okay, wait! Hatteras died to save us." The doctor was very agitated, and he looked at the bear, who looked very agitated, as if he had a premonition of impending danger.

A quarter of an hour later, the seal crawled on the ice, turned around and hid in the large ice block, in order to better confuse the bear; then it came to a distance of 100 meters from the bear.The latter saw it, and immediately shrank into a ball, trying to avoid it. Hatteras imitated the seal's movements so skillfully that the doctor would have been fooled had he not said so. "That's it! That's it!" Johnson whispered. The mammal ran alongside the beast, seemingly not seeing it, and it appeared to be looking for a gap to re-dive back to where it lived. On the bear's side, circling the iceberg, approaching it with great caution, its burning eyes beckoning that it had salivated; it had been hungry for a month, maybe two, and it happened to be Encountered the prey that insurance can get.

Presently the seal was only ten paces away from its enemy; the latter stretched out at once, made a great leap, stunned and terrified, and stopped three paces from Hatteras, who took the seal-skin Throwing it back, kneeling on one leg, it aimed for its heart. The gun went off, and the bear rolled on the ice. "Forward! Forward!" cried the doctor. The doctor and Johnson rushed to the scene of the fight. The beast stood up again, waving one paw in the air, while the other grabbed a handful of snow and jammed the wound. Hatteras did not move, he waited, knife in hand, but he aimed well, fired with surety, without shaking his hand, and had the whole knife in before his companions arrived. Into the animal's throat, the bear fell to the ground and did not move.

"Victory!" Johnson shouted. "Ulla! Hatteras! Ulla!" cried the doctor. Hatteras was not agitated at all, looking at the huge body with his arms folded. "It's my turn," Johnson said. "It's a good kill, but we can't wait until it's frozen like a rock, and our teeth and knives are useless." So Johnson began skinning the beast, which was almost the size of an ox, nine feet long and six feet in circumference; huge tusks the length of three thumbs protruding from its jaws. Johnson cut it open and saw that there was only water in its stomach. Obviously the bear hadn't eaten for a long time, but it was still very fat, weighing more than 1,500 pounds; it was divided into four parts, each with 200 pounds of meat, and the hunter They dragged the meat all the way to the igloo, not forgetting to take the animal's heart, which was still beating three hours later.

The doctor's companions wanted to devour the raw meat, but the latter stopped them, telling them to wait until it was cooked. When Crawford returned to the igloo, he felt that the room was extremely cold. He approached the stove and found that the fire was completely extinguished. The busyness and excitement of the morning made Johnson forget his usual duties. The doctor took on the responsibility of starting the fire, but he could not find a single spark in the already cold ashes. "Well, a little patience!" he said to himself. He went to the sled for tinder and asked Johnson for a lighter.

"The stove is out," he said to the latter. "It was my fault," Johnson replied. He looked in the pocket where he usually put the lighter, but he was surprised that he couldn't find it. He touched the other pockets, but still couldn't find them; he went back to the igloo and turned his overnight quilt inside out, but the result was still not good. "How?" cried the doctor. Johnson came back and looked at his companion. "You didn't have the lighter, Mr. Croubney?" he said. "No, Johnson." "And you, Captain?" "No," Hatteras replied.

"It was always yours," said the doctor again. "Well! I have no more..." murmured the old sailor, turning pale. "No more!" cried the doctor, trembling involuntarily. Without a lighter, this loss has dire consequences. "Look hard, Johnson," said the doctor. The latter ran behind the iceberg where he was spying on the bear, and then to the scene where he was skinning; but he found nothing.He came back in despair.Hatteras looked at him without showing any sign of blaming him. "The problem is serious," he told the doctor. "Yes," replied the latter.

"We didn't even have a tool, not a lens to remove the lens to make fire." "I know," replied the doctor, "that is a very bad thing, for the sunlight needs to be of a certain intensity to ignite the tinder." "Well," answered Hatteras, "we shall stuff ourselves with raw meat, and then we shall go on our way, as far as we can to the ship." "Yes!" said the doctor, lost in thought. "Yes, it is strictly possible, why not? We can try..." "What are you thinking?" Hatteras asked. "I have an idea..."

"An idea!" cried Johnson, "an idea of ​​yours! Then we're saved!" "Whether it will be successful or not," replied the doctor, "is still a question!" "What's your plan?" Hatteras asked. "We don't have a lens, so let's make one." "How?" Johnson asked. "Use a piece of ice we've chipped." "What? What do you think? . . . " "Why not? This is to gather the sun's rays into a common hearth, and ice will do this for us, like the best crystals." "Is it possible?" Johnson asked.

"Yes, except that I would prefer freshwater ice to saltwater ice; freshwater ice is clearer and stronger." "But, if I'm not mistaken," said Johnson, pointing to an ice mound less than a hundred paces away, "this gray-and-green-looking pile of ice shows that . . . " "You are right. Come, my friends, take your axe, Johnson." The three of them walked towards the designated ice mound, which was indeed formed by freshwater ice. The doctor cut off a piece of ice a foot in diameter, and at first he chiseled hard with the axe, then he smoothed the surface of the ice with a knife, and at last he polished it little by little with his hands, and soon he obtained a transparent lens, as if it were Manufactured from the highest quality crystal. Then he returned to the igloo, where he took a piece of tinder and began his experiments. The sun was quite dazzling; the doctor put the ice lens in the sun, and then connected it with tinder. The tinder ignited within seconds. "Ulla! Ulla!" Johnson cried, unable to believe his eyes. "Ah! Mr. Crawburn! Mr. Crawburn!" The old sailor could not conceal his delight; he ran to and fro like a madman. The doctor returned to the house, and a few minutes later the stove came up, and soon the smell of a delicious roast woke Bell from his torpor. One can guess how cheerful the meal was, but the doctor advised his companions to be moderate, and as he ate and preached to them, he spoke again. "We've had a happy day," he said, "and we've got enough food for the rest of our journey. But we can't sleep in Cap's carnival, and we'd better go on." "We're less than forty-eight hours away from the Perboise," said Altamon, speaking almost fluently. "I hope," said the doctor, laughing, "we can find something for the fire there?" "I can find it," replied the American. "Because, even if my lens is fine," the doctor continued, "it's hard to tell on days when there is no sun, and most of these days the distance traveled is less than 4° from the pole!" "After all," replied Altamon with a sigh; "less than 4°! Our ship is there, and no ship has ventured there before it!" "On the road!" Hatteras ordered decisively. "On the road!" repeated the doctor, casting anxious glances at the two captains. Immediately the travelers regained their strength, and the dogs ate mostly bear offal, and they soon headed north. On the way, the doctor wanted Altamon to clarify the reason for his long journey, but the answer from the American was evasive. "Take care of the two," said the doctor in the old sailor's ear. "Yes!" Johnson replied. "Hatteras never spoke to the Americans, who didn't seem to show much gratitude! It's a good thing I'm here." "Mr. Crowburn," answered Johnson, "I don't like the way the Yankee has been since he came to life." "Either I am mistaken," replied the doctor, "or he suspects Hatteras' plans!" "Do you believe that this stranger thinks as he does?" "Who knows, Johnson? Americans are bold, brave, and what an Englishman wants to do, an American wants to do!" "What do you think of Altamon? . . . " "I don't think of anything," replied the doctor, "but the state of his ship on the way to the Pole is incomprehensible." "But, Altamon said, he was dragged involuntarily!" "He did! Yes, but I found a strange smile at the corner of his mouth." "Damn! Mr. Crawburn, a rivalry between two determined men is a nasty situation." "I hope I am wrong, Johnson, because this situation will make the situation more complicated, and it may bring disaster!" "I hope Altamon doesn't forget that we saved his life!" "Didn't he save our lives? I admit he couldn't live without us; but what would we be without him, without the provisions he kept?" "Anyway, Mr. Crawburn, you are here, and I hope that with your help everything goes well." "I hope so, Johnson." The trip went on without incident, there was no shortage of bear meat, they cooked a good meal, and there was a certain friendliness in the little procession, thanks to the doctor's wisecracks and his kindness; A respectable man always finds in his bag of wisdom some lesson from facts and things.His health remained excellent; he was not too thin, despite the fatigue and hunger he had experienced; and his Liverpool friends had no trouble recognizing him.Especially because of his kind, unchanging temper. On Saturday morning, the character of the vast ice sheet changed markedly; distorted ice masses, more usual packs of ice packs, and piled-up ice mounds, indicated that the ice sheet was under great pressure; apparently, some strange continent, some new The islands produced this undulation as their paths shortened.Freshwater ice blocks are more frequent and larger, indicating a nearby coast. Not far off lay a new continent, with which the doctor was anxious to supplement the map of the northern hemisphere.He could not bear the joy of discovering strange shores and marking them with pencil.This was the Doctor's aim, and if Hatteras's aim was to set foot on the Pole, he was the first to take great pleasure in these new continental seas, straits, bays, and tiniest crooks which he would name.Of course, in these glorified technical terms, he does not ignore his companions, his friends, his "good God," the royal family; A glimpse of some "Crowburnie" headland. These thoughts occupied his mind all day.They camped as usual at night, each taking turns during the night spent near strange land. The next day, Sunday, the travelers ate a delicious and hearty bear's paw breakfast, and headed north, sloping a little to the west; the road was getting harder; but they were going fast. Altamon stood on the sled, watching the horizon with a kind of feverish attention, and his companions fell into a kind of reluctant apprehension.The last few observations of the Sun gave a precise latitude of 83°35' and a longitude of 120°15'; this was the exact position of the American ship; and this question of life and death was about to be resolved. At last, about two o'clock in the afternoon, Altamon stood up straight, shouted to stop the little procession, and pointed to the white pile, which any other eye would have taken away. It was confused with a nearby iceberg, and he cried out: "Perboise!"