The battle had now lasted three hours; the men were panting from exertion; the walrus, still bellowing, was clinging to the edge of the ice, which for several yards round the hole was covered with blood and foam.
"Wot a brute it is!" said Buzzby, sitting down on a lump of ice and looking at it in despair.
"We might have killed it lang ago had I not wet my gun," growled Saunders, regarding his weapon, which was completely drenched, with a look of contempt.
"Give it another poke, Awatok," cried Amos Parr; "you'll know best whereabouts its life lies; I can make nothin' o't." Awatok obeyed, and gave it a thrust under the left flipper that seemed to reach its heart, for it fell back into the water and struggled violently.

At the same moment Davie Summers mounted to the top of a hummock, part of which overhung the pool, and launched a harpoon down upon its back.

This latter blow seemed to revive its ferocity, for it again essayed to clamber out on the ice, and looked up at Davie with a glance of seeming indignation; while Buzzby, who had approached, fell backward as he retreated from before it.

At the same time Saunders succeeded in getting his musket to go off.

The ball struck it in the eye, and entering the brain, caused instant death, a result which was greeted with three enthusiastic cheers.
The getting of this enormous creature out of the water would have been a matter of no small difficulty had there not been such a large party present.