Their whaling ship was a dot in the distance. The sky had turned, becoming yet another Arctic night. The Northern Lights started their yellow,rose, and green dance.
Boris's face was bloody, his right ear partially torn. But Ivan, who had been thrown up onto the ice floe with him when the Sperm Whale's tail had flattened their harpoon boat, came to consciousness and saw Boris trying to say something. They both could see the whaling ship approaching. Rescue.
Ivan could barely hear Boris's whispering. Ice droplets formed on the fur coat surrounding Boris's greasy face, a greasy bloodstain crossing his appearance, cuts slashed across his face, from his right forehead and ear, a double gash across his right cheek; his nose streaming blood; his jaw bone white against his weatherbeaten Kamchatka face - the face of a whaler.
"Wha? Boris, Wha? Wha are you saying?"
Boris looked over to Ivan, whispering with force, "Nar! Narrr. NARRR!"
Ivan, cold and wet and barely conscious himself fell to the ice and nearly passed out. He heard Boris through a thin consciousness and he began to drift into lassitude and sleep. "Nar! Nar! NARRRR!"
Ivan raised his head just in time to see a huge polar bear round the piece of ice that Boris was resting against. Ivan saw blood pooling at the feet of the polar bear and below Boris's head. It was coming in for the final strike.
Ivan saw Boris summon his final words, "Nar! Nar! NAR NAR NAR!" And, from a hole in the ice a ghostly white form with a curled horn shot forth, its massive horn impaling the polar bear up through the throat and through its head. The polar bear reared back, but it was too late, the beast had dealt it a death blow.