"That's its way of showing grief, I suppose." Guard was darting up to it, barking furiously: but the great beast did not at first seem to pay much attention to the dog; till on a sudden it turned, with another dreadful bellowing,--we thought the dog had bitten one of its tail flippers,--and came waddling after him, snorting, and gnashing its tusks.

Guard fell back toward our shelter.
"Shoot him!" Raed exclaimed.
Kit and Donovan both fired at the monster; but, with ferocious snorts, it kept after the dog.
"Run!" shouted Weymouth.

"Out of this!" for the dog was backing right in upon us.
We had to scurry out in a hurry to avoid being penned there.

Guard, like a fool, kept backing in that direction.

By the time we had got clear of the shelter, he had got himself backed into it; and, the sea-horse essaying to follow him, the oar that held up the skin in front was knocked away, and down it came, burying the dog, and partially covering the walrus.