When we reached the shore our dogs were loosed from the sledges.
They swarmed up the hot trail, and we followed as best we could.
A little farther on we came to a deep canon, and as we could tell by the sounds, the dogs and the bear were at the bottom.

But where we stood the walls were too precipitous for even an Eskimo to descend, and we could not see our quarry.

He was evidently under some projecting ledge on our side.
Moving up the canon to find a place of descent, I heard Egingwah shout that the bear had started down the canon and was climbing up the other side.

Hurrying back through the deep snow and over the rough rocks, I suddenly saw the beast, perhaps a hundred yards away, and raised my rifle.

But I must have been too much winded to take good aim, for though I fired two shots at him the bear kept right on up the canon side.
Surely Tornarsuk was in him! I found that I had given the stumps of both my feet--my toes were frozen off at Fort Conger in 1899--some severe blows against the rocks; and as they were complaining with vehemence, I decided not to follow the bear any farther along the steep boulder-strewn bluffs.
Handing my rifle to Egingwah, I told him and Koolatoonah to go after the bear while I went back down the bluffs to the sledges and followed along the bay ice.