The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 40: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

26 There was no use keeping up the getaway. I knew nothing of the land we were on. Of course, I had no idea the land contained savages. That it was an island I knew. And in those northern latitudes there are no savage islands. I had pummeled Ordway unmerci- fully. The only thing for me to do was to meet him, take my punishment, and then patch up our friendship again. As I saw him scrambling up the bank puffing and blowing from his ex- ertions in the water, I got myself in readiness to meet the shock of battle. “By cracky,” he bawled, as he stood upright and shook the cold water from his clothing, “ you did that in great shape. Shake, you cold-water lobster, shake. That's twice you’ve saved my life in spite of myself.” He held out his hand, and a broad grin spread over his face. I would have been less surprised had he knocked me down. I took his prof- fered hand. “T was afraid the ice Avould_ split and let you down between,” I ex- plained, rather lamely. | “So it would. Don’t you see where it chopped off? Right where I was lying.” “But what came over you? You wilted like a calf led to the slaughter.” “Dag, I’m no good as a collector for an ice company. Give me gas or electricity. Put me in a country where the thermometer sizzles at midnight and I’ll stand anything. But your con- founded frigidity knocks me _ out. Great smoke, though! If I'd caught you within a hundred feet Pd have drowned you.” I laughed. “T’m glad you didn’t catch me. But the plunge and exercise did us both good. How does it feel to have solid ground—ground made of dirt and stones—under your feet again?” “Bully. But what ground of dirt and stone is it? Have you any idea?”’ “No. I have lost all reckoning. I have no more notion what part of the THE ARGOSY. north Atlantic we are in than you have. Or if we are in the Arctic Ocean. But it’s land. That’s the main thing. It may be an island off the coast of Iceland, or even the coast of Iceland itself. It may be Spitzber- gen. But it’s land.” “Yes, it’s land. And now that we have this land under our feet, it seems up to us to do something, and do it quick. The temporary nerve that cold bath gave us will wear off. We want something to eat. We need—” “Run!” I yelled at him, and point- ed past him. He gave one look behind and followed me. A grayish white bear, big enough to knock our two heads together, was coming toward us at an awkward lope. There was nothing for us to do but run. Our guns were still in the ice, basin, and there was nothing at hand to serve as a weapon. And to me that healthy-looking bear seemed the em- bodiment of strength as, with his mouth open, his tongue lolling out, he came romping after us. \ Now, to stand in a zoological garden and look at a bear awkwardly march- ing up and down, with half his legs for feet, it seems as though it might be a simple matter to get away from one. But given a free run for his long bounds, a bear, like the sun, “ do move.” | The beast was gaining on us, and we rushed through a coppice of birch- trees, and.came out on a clearing. To my amazément, a small log cabin stood there, and in front of it a man. He looked at us with as much as- tonishment as we displayed in seeing him. “A bear!” I shouted, not knowing whether he could understand or not. At a glance I saw that he was white, but he was so enveloped in rudely shaped fur garments that nothing more could be distinguished except that he was larger, even, in build, than Ord- way. He was fully six feet tall, and his calm eyes took us in without a smile or other show of emotion. CoOMmicbook CO