Sunday, July 29. The polar bear died at dawn. A bullet had disabled one of the creature’s forelegs and Siku cut its throat with a length of wire. Next, the carcass was skinned and the meat stripped off the bones to be salted away in casks. After there hung in the air a dismal halitus of blood, eventually dissipated by a light wind that offered more than its customary relief. We have been in Bowdoin Bay for seven nights and it is remarkable to recall that only a few months ago we were in New York, waiting for the Invincible