222 THE WORLD OF ICE.

This good and sturdy limb
Had belonged to fightin’ Tim,
An’ scarcely had they sewed it on the socket O!
When up the hatch T flew,
An’ dashed among the crew,
Aw’ sprang on board the Frenchman like a rocket O!}
Pull, boys, ete.

‘Twas this that gained the day,
For that leg it cleared the way—
And the battle raged like fury while it lasted O!
Then ceased the shot and shell
To fall upon the swell,
And the Union Jack went bravely to the mast-head O!
Pull, boys, ete.

We need scarcely say that this song was enthusi-
astically encored, and that the chorus was done full
justice to by the audience, who picked it up at once
and sang it with lusty vehemence. At the last word
Ben Bolt nodded familiarly, thrust his hands into his
pockets, and swaggered off whistling “ Yankee Doodle.”
Tt was a matter of uncertainty where he had swageered
off to, but it was conjectured that he had gone on his
Journey to anywhere that might turn up.

Meanwhile, Blunderbore had been bobbing his head
up and down behind the hummock in amazement at
what he heard and saw, and when Ben Bolt made his
exit he came forward. This was the signal for the
two bears to discover him and rush on with a terrific
roar. Blunderbore instantly fetched them each a
sounding whack on their skulls, leaped over both
their backs, and bounded up the side of the iceberg,
where he took refuge, and turned at bay on a little
ice pinnacle constructed expressly for that purpose.