great polar bear aswimmin' about inside it. It had only sunk about two feet in the water, and he was standin' inside the cage as prompt as you please, headed directly for the United States."
"O, O," cried Oumauk. "Whitie is drowned. I know he is; Whitie is drowned."
"Ef Whitie is what you call that great brute, he ain't drowned by a jugful. But he did get a good wetting. You see, men, it came about this way."
"My mate, Hank Jones, is allus a-dasting me to do suthing out of the ordinary. He is allus makin' fun of my mechanics. You see, I am a mechanical genius. So when Hank saw this bear, he dasted me to rig a pulley and pull him on board, cage and all. An' I tuck Hank's dast and had him aboard in about fifteen minutes. He is as high and dry as a salt codfish this very minute, there in the stern of the Three Bells."
"Oh, oh," cried Oumauk. "I am so glad Whitie is not drowned, and we can all go to Quebec just as we planned."
