I said to myself; 'There is a bear about somewhere.'

And after some five minutes I saw--I thought that I saw--it. The fog
had, if anything thickened; and it was now very near the end of my
watch.

It had entered the ship, I concluded, by the boards which slanted from
an opening in the port bulwarks down to the ice. Once before, in
November, a bear, having smelled the dogs, had ventured on board at
midnight: but _then_ there had resulted a perfect hubbub among the dogs.
_Now_, even in the midst of my excitement, I wondered at their
quietness, though some whimpered--with fear, I thought. I saw the
creature steal forward from the hatchway toward the kennels a-port; and
I ran noiselessly, and seized the watch-gun which stood always loaded by
the companionway.

By this time, the form had passed the kennels, reached the bows, and now
was making toward me on the starboard side. I took aim. Never, I
thought, had I seen so huge a bear--though I made allowance for the
magnifying effect of the fog.

My finger was on the trigger: and at that moment a deathly shivering
sickness took me, the wrangling voices shouted at me, with 'Shoot!'
'Shoot not!' 'Shoot!' Ah well, that latter shout was irresistible. I
drew the trigger. The report hooted through the Polar night.

The creature dropped; both Wilson and Clark were up at once: and we
three hurried to the spot.

But the very first near glance showed a singular kind of bear. Wilson