first thing I looked for, and there they were, sure enough,
in their racks, dozens of 'em--double-barrelled guns, and
repeating-rifles, and long pistols, and shiny plated revolvers.
I rang up the steward and ordered tea, with scones, and jam in
its native pots--none of your finicking shallow glass dishes;
and, when properly streaked with jam, and blown out with tea, I
went through the armoury, clicked the rifles and revolvers,
tested the edges of the cutlasses with my thumb, and filled the
cartridge-belts chock-full. Everything was there, and of the
best quality, just as if I had spent a whole fortnight knocking
about Plymouth and ordering things. Clearly, if this cruise came
to grief, it would not be for want of equipment.

Just as I was beginning on the lockers and the drawers, the watch
reported icebergs on both bows--and, what was more to the point,
coveys of Polar bears on the icebergs. I grasped a rifle or two,
and hastened on deck. The spectacle was indeed
magnificent--it generally is, with icebergs on both bows, and
these were exceptionally enormous icebergs. But I hadn't come
there to paint Academy pictures, so the captain's gig was in the
water and manned almost ere the boatswain's whistle had ceased
sounding, and we were pulling hard for the Polar bears--myself
and the rifles in the stern-sheets.

I have rarely enjoyed better shooting than I got during that
afternoon's tramp over the icebergs. Perhaps I was in specially
good form; perhaps the bears "rose" well. Anyhow, the bag was a
portentous one. In later days, on reading of the growing
scarcity of Polar bears, my conscience has pricked me; but that
afternoon I experienced no compunction. Nevertheless, when the