"You hold on," objected Guy. "Your hands are as raw as uncooked beefsteak. I'll have a shot at it. I saw how Hawke did the trick."
Somewhat reluctantly Leslie gave way, at the same time cautioning Guy not to get caught by the blades of the propellers when the engine fired.
Pluckily Guy tackled the job. He did not relish it, for he knew to his cost what a back-fire meant. Once he had received a heavy blow from the starting handle of a motor-car, and that had, figuratively, knocked the stuffing out of him. Yet he was a lad who could be relied upon to come up to the scratch in a tight corner; so, setting his jaw tightly, he gave the propeller a lusty swing. Nothing favourable resulted.
Again and again he swung the blades, till his forehead was covered with frozen beads of perspiration. Sheer exhaustion forced him to desist.
"I believe the petrol is frozen," he declared breathlessly.
Then Leslie tried his utmost, but without success. It seemed as if the sleigh with its three occupants were fated to be stranded miles from the ship.
"We'll have to drag the beastly thing," declared Guy. "It won't take much effort, once we get it going."
Leslie thought otherwise. He could see the former track of the runners fading into the distance. Between them and thePolaritywere obstacles in the shape of several small fissures and long ridges of ice that could not be overcome by manual labour.
Just then Hawke opened his eyes, wearily, like a man aroused from a deep slumber.
"What's up?" he asked vacantly.
Leslie came straight to the point.
"You've been badly knocked about by the bear. We've settled him all right. We want to take you back to the ship, but we can't restart the engine."
With a considerable effort Hawke turned his head and looked at the controls by the seat behind him.
"I don't wonder," he replied. "The ignition's switched off. Press that catch down and try again."
He attempted to rise, but being aware for the first time that his left arm was useless, he subsided with a groan.
"Knocked clean out," he murmured, loud enough for Leslie to overhear. "And Ranworth wants the big sleigh to start as soon as possible. I've kippered the whole scheme by letting that bear maul me. What a fool I was not to keep the rifle loaded."
At the next attempt the motor fired easily. Taking his seat, Leslie cautiously manipulated the controls. Away glided the sleigh, but at a broad angle to the previous tracks.
The lad grasped the tiller. He was soon to find out how sensitive the rudder of an ice-craft can be, for the sudden application of the helm all but capsized the sleigh.
"Steady, man!" shouted Guy warningly, at the same time keeping Hawke in his seat, for the injured man had fainted again.
A very little practice on the smooth ice convinced Leslie that he had the sleigh under control. He had yet to negotiate the hummocks and the gaps of open water.
As the sleigh gathered way and finally settled to a forty-mile-an-hour pace, the lust of speed possessed the youthful helmsman.
The exhilaration of the swift motion made him forget his surroundings. He was beginning to enjoy something akin to the sensation of flight. As a passenger he had revelled in the outward trip; now, as helmsman and operator, he knew what being in charge of the speedy sleigh meant.
The first hummock Leslie took almost "bows on." The sleigh, striking the slopes rather obliquely, seemed to leap upwards and sideways in the air; then, hitting the ice with tremendous force, it rocked from side to side for about a hundred yards, before it steadied itself on its main runners.
Suddenly Leslie saw before him a broad gap in the ice. It must have widened considerably since the outward journey.
Approaching the dangerous crevasse almost at the rate of an express train, there was no avoiding it. To attempt to swerve sufficiently would mean disaster; to take it otherwise than "bows on" would spell certain death. Even as it was, it seemed impossible for the sleigh to leap across the widening space.
"Neck or nothing," thought Leslie. He shut his jaws tightly and gave the motor full throttle.
As luck would have it, the breaking of the ice had resulted in a small mound being thrown near the edge of the gap. Like a bird the sleigh mounted the incline, and with its own momentum completely cleared the death-trap beyond. Well it was that the runners were strong and true, and that the body of the sleigh waswell sprung, for with a crash the swiftly-moving vehicle alighted on the far side.
"Twelve feet if it's an inch," murmured Leslie. "She took it splendidly, but all the same I don't want to have to repeat the experiment."
Fortunately, although there were other cracks in the ice, there were no obstacles of such size as the one they had just overcome, and without further incident the sleigh came to a standstill within twenty feet of the ship.
"What has happened?" asked Ranworth anxiously, as he caught sight of Aubrey Hawke's unconscious form.
Briefly Leslie related what had taken place.
"Hawke showed an error of judgment in not keeping his rifle loaded," commented Ranworth. "Of course, we are all apt to do that, but in his case it was most unfortunate. Goodness only knows what will happen as regards the electric sleigh. Our chief asset is now practically useless. But it is no use worrying. What is done cannot be undone."
"I brought this sleigh back, sir," began Leslie, then, self-conscious at his spontaneous boast, he stopped.
"Yes, you did remarkably well, my lad," agreed Ranworth.
"Then couldn't I have a shot at the big sleigh?" continued Leslie. "I understand the mechanism, and from what Mr. Hawke has told me the steering is very similar to that of the one I have just brought back. I'll do my level best, sir; and Guy will lend me a hand."
Ranworth paused before replying. He had already proof of Leslie's courage; he knew that the lad had a better knowledge of the giant sleigh than any other member of the expedition, Aubrey Hawke excepted. Since Aubrey Hawke was crippled with a broken arm, and suffering from shock, it was doubtful whether hewould again be able to take an active part in the expedition.
Yet, Ranworth reflected, Leslie Ward was but a lad. It seemed too risky to entrust him with the important mission of piloting the electric sleigh to the aid of the sorely-pressed explorers.
"Let the youngster have a cut at it, sir," broke in Captain Stormleigh. "If the worst comes to the worst, we can fetch him back by means of the other sleigh, and do our best to get in touch with your brother's party by tramping it. But it strikes me, sir, that the lad is one who gets there somehow, as they say in the States. Let him try his hand, sir."
"How long do you think will it take to cut a passage for thePolarity?" demanded Ranworth.
"Five days, sir, at the present rate of progress. Less, if the pack is breaking up; more if the ice is 'jamming' away to the nor'ard."
"And five days even may be too late," rejoined Ranworth. "Leslie, I must accept your offer, and may good fortune attend our efforts."
The amended plan was forthwith put into operation. The hatches were uncovered, and the huge sleigh hoisted out by means of a derrick and landed on the ice. While Leslie was superintending the fitting of the twin propellers, upon the delicate adjustment of which depended the easy running of the enormous fabric, Ranworth, assisted by the second mate, was busily engaged in loading up the sleigh with stores and provisions necessary for the trip.
Ranworth was to take charge of the rescue party, and to be responsible for the correct course from Desolation Inlet to Observation Camp. Having no experience in mechanism or electrical engineering, he was compelled to entrust the care of the motors to Leslie Ward.
On the lad's skill the success of the dash to Observation Camp would largely depend, for in the event of a mechanical breakdown that could not be rectified by the person in charge, the sleigh and its occupants would be helplessly stranded, while the chances of rescuing Claude Ranworth's party would be very slight.
Guy was to accompany Leslie as his assistant, while two seamen having previous experience in Polar work, completed the crew of the sleigh.
At length the preparations were complete. A preliminary trial of the motors alone was necessary before setting out on the dash into the unknown.
Accordingly, the sleigh was anchored by two stout ropes attached to grapnels imbedded in the ice. There was no need to swing the propellers; a patent starting device enabled the operator to work everything in connection with the motors from the seat within the for'ard cabin.
The engines started without a hitch. The huge contrivance trembled and strained at the mooring ropes, as if eager to dash into the fray. To Leslie's great satisfaction, the "pull" of each propeller was equal to the other. It was a triumph for his skill in adjusting the other.
"Everything correct, sir," he reported, after having switched off the current.
"Good," ejaculated Ranworth. "We'll start at once. Nothing overlooked in your department, Rogers; nor in yours, Payne?"
Both seamen expressed their opinion that the gear for which they were responsible was quite in order.
"Good-bye, my lads," exclaimed Ranworth, addressing the ship's company.
The work of cutting a channel for thePolarityhad been temporarily suspended in order that the menmight bid the rescue party God speed. Led by Captain Stormleigh, the men gave three rousing cheers, waving their ice-axes and crowbars with the utmost enthusiasm.
"Cast off, there!" ordered Captain Stormleigh.
Half a dozen of thePolarity'screw promptly released the grapnels. The sleigh was now free to proceed.
Ranworth turned towards Leslie and held up his hand.
A touch on a switch, and both propellers began to spin rapidly. For a brief interval the sleigh quivered, without making any definite progress; then, almost imperceptibly gathering way, she glided smoothly in the direction of Desolation Inlet.
IT did not take the sleigh more than five minutes from the time of starting to traverse the belt of comparatively smooth ice. In fact, Leslie had hardly begun to increase the speed of the motors before Ranworth signalled for them to be switched off.
Leslie promptly obeyed, while Guy, acting upon previous instructions, applied the brakes, two saw-edged supplementary runners, which when in action transferred the weight of the sleigh from the smooth steel ones.
Having brought his charge to a standstill, Leslie looked out from the forward observation scuttle.
Although the temperature of the open air was twenty-five degrees below freezing point, and that of the interior of the cabin of the sleigh was hovering around sixty, there were no signs of moisture upon the glass, which had been specially treated to prevent the inconvenience of condensation.
The lad was now able to understand the reason for the unexpected halt. The sleigh was about to make a sea voyage across the forty miles of open water between the northern limit of the drifting ice and the island of Nova Cania.
Between the smooth ice and the sea a barrier of driftice had piled itself up to a height of twenty feet. The irregular blocks appeared insurmountable, so steep did their visible face look when viewed through the cabin scuttle.
"Decapod!" ordered Ranworth, briefly.
"That lever, Guy; not too smart with it," exclaimed Leslie, indicating a small steel rod on the after bulkhead of the engine-room.
Acting upon instructions, Guy slowly depressed the lever. As he did so, he became aware of the fact that the whole fabric was rising. The sleigh was no longer supported by the runners, but by four flanged wheels; each pair coupled in a fore and aft direction by a broad spiked chain.
Throwing the clutch into the lowest gear, Leslie restarted the motors. At a speed of two miles an hour the huge vehicle moved towards the icy barrier. The motion was decidedly uncanny. It reminded Leslie of the erratic waddle of a tortoise. The lack of speed in spite of the fact that the motors were purring at a high rate of revolution, seemed to irritate him. He felt inclined to let the engine "all out."
Presently the sleigh began to tilt, the fore part rearing as the wheels encountered the stiff slope. Ranworth had chosen the easiest path, yet it necessitated a fifteen feet climb over a wall of ice, inclined at an angle of thirty degrees to the perpendicular.
Above the purr of the motors could be heard the crunching of the ice under the grip of the spiked wheels. Once or twice the vehicle faltered, then, recovering itself, slowly made its way up the steep incline.
Small projections of ice it simply pounded to a powder. Narrow fissures it bridged without any apparent effort, and although the crew had to hang on to the nearest support to prevent themselves sliding against the after-bulkhead, the lumbering "house on wheels" advanced with the ease of a fly walking on a ceiling.
Again Ranworth signalled for the motors to be switched off. The sleigh was now on the summit of the drift ice. In front of it lay the sea, the surface of which was quite twenty feet below the level on which the sleigh was perched.
"A tough job, Leslie," remarked Ranworth. "Think she'll do it?"
"She will right enough, sir," replied Leslie, confidently.
"Of course," added Ranworth, with a grim laugh. "But the question is, will she smash herself up in the attempt? There's no checking her, remember, once she gets over the brink."
"I'm willing to risk the dive, sir," replied Leslie.
The boy had abundant confidence in the specifications and plans his father had made. Provided the makers had implicitly followed Mr. Ward's instructions, the material of the sleigh was quite strong enough to resist the shock of a twenty-feet dive into the sea.
"And so am I," added Ranworth. "At the same time, there's a risk, and it is obviously unfair to keep all the crew on board when two will be ample for this occasion."
Despite the protestations of Guy and the two seamen, Rogers and Payne, the trio were ordered to leave the cabin and take their place on the ice. If things went amiss, and the cabin walls were stove in, the sleigh would sink like a stone, without the faintest chance of escape for Ranworth and Leslie. In that case, Guy and the two men would be able to retrace their way on foot to thePolarity.
Leslie felt sorry for Guy, as his chum exchanged thecomfort of the enclosed cabin for the bitter cold of the open air. In spite of his warm fur clothing, the keenness of the wind cut Guy like a knife.
With the deepest concern and anxiety, he saw the sleigh move slowly forward. At the very brink of the glacial wall it hung irresolute as the chain bands cut into the "rotten" ice. Then, tilting bows downwards, it toppled, and, like an arrow, plunged into the sea.
For several seconds the sleigh was invisible owing to the depth to which it had descended, and to the mighty column of spray it had thrown up on impact with the water.
Then, to Guy's intense satisfaction, the amphibious invention reappeared, bobbing buoyantly upon the surface. He watched it anxiously. Seconds passed, but the floating sleigh showed no signs of foundering. It had survived the shock and was undoubtedly watertight.
Under the sharp stern the water began to churn. Leslie had coupled up and was running the "nautical" propeller. To attempt to approach the wall of ice under the action of the twin aerial propellers, was to court disaster.
Adroitly manoeuvred, the sleigh was brought alongside the ice. By means of a rope fastened to a crowbar, which in turn was wedged tightly in a crevasse, Guy and the two seamen slid down to the roof—or, as Rogers expressed it, the upper deck—whence by means of a hatchway they regained the interior of the cabin.
Once clear of the ice, the floating sleigh was headed northwards, the aerial propellers were brought into action, and at a speed of twenty-five knots the unique craft glided with a hydroplane-like motion over the waves.
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[Illustration: TheBird of Freedomtoppled, and like an arrow, plunged into the sea.To face page 72.]
[Illustration: TheBird of Freedomtoppled, and like an arrow, plunged into the sea.To face page 72.]
Leslie was now at liberty to "stand easy." There was no immediate or apparent reason why the motors should be stopped or slowed down during the sea passage, unless small floes, rising sufficiently high out of the water, were encountered. Then the danger would arise of the aerial propellers striking the obstruction; hence to prevent such a possibility it would be necessary to use the marine propeller only.
Ranworth's decision to make use of the twin aerial propellers was determined solely by a desire to attain the greatest possible speed. In conjunction with the marine propeller, an increase of 25 per cent. in speed was obtainable.
"Going jolly well now, Leslie," observed Ranworth, enthusiastically, as the lad joined him at the foremost observation scuttle. "'Pon my word, you've managed to get a bit out of the motors."
"They're not going so badly," admitted Leslie modestly.
"It occurred to me that we ought to give the sleigh a name," continued Ranworth. "I've come to the conclusion that the word 'sleigh' is not sufficiently appropriate. What we have is really a combined cabin-boat on runners or wheels, or floating on the water according to circumstances. Hence, since she's a sort of boat, she ought to be named, Now, what do you suggest?"
"It's rather hard lines that the responsibility of giving her a name should rest with me, sir," objected Leslie, laughingly.
"Subject to mutual approval, of course," corrected Ranworth. "Now suggest something."
"TheBird of Freedom," replied Leslie.
"But she isn't an aeroplane; she doesn't fly in the air," remarked Guy.
"Neither does an ostrich, but it's a bird all the same," retorted Leslie. "This craft is certainly a flier both on the ice and on the water. She is proceeding to the rescue of Mr. Ranworth's brother and his companions; hence the allusion to freedom."
"The ayes have it," declared Ranworth. "TheBird of Freedomshe shall be. But stand by, Leslie; unless I'm much mistaken, there's trouble ahead."
At about a mile distant the open water seemed to end abruptly. So far as the eye could reach, the horizon was bounded by a line of ice, projecting with comparative regularity to a height of ten feet above the surface of the sea.
Leslie quickly reduced the speed of the motors, then, disconnecting the shafting of the aerial propellers, allowed theBird of Freedomto approach at a modest ten knots the hitherto unsuspected barrier.
It soon became apparent that the ice field consisted of a number of floes intersected by narrow channels, the width of which was constantly varying owing to the erratic motion of the whole extent of drift ice.
Had the floe been one continuous expanse, it would have been a difficult matter for theBird of Freedomto scale the almost perpendicular edge. Even if she were able to, no good result would be obtained, since the intersecting fissures were impassable.
"Now, if we could fly, what a difficulty could be overcome!" commented Ranworth. "But since theBird of Freedomcannot fly, nor swim under water, we must devise some other means."
"Perhaps there's a channel wide enough for her," suggested Guy.
"Possibly; I'll sound Rogers on the point."
The Polar veteran, on the suggestion being put before him, resolutely shook his head.
"Too jolly risky, sir," he said. "Not that I mind taking risks, sir, you'll understand. You see, sir, it's like this: the whole drift is 'lively.' The floes are all moving according to wind and tide. We might get her a couple of hundred yards in and find we're done: then before we could get clear we might be properly trapped. An' if this 'ere packet got nipped, she wouldn't stand a dog's chance. She'd be stove in like an egg-shell."
A continuous dull roar, as a thousand detached pieces of ice ground against each other, added weight to the sailor's objections.
"Then what do you suggest?" asked Ranworth impatiently, for the plight of the men he was on his way to rescue was always in his mind. "You've had experience in these matters."
"Yes, sir; in a triple-planked, heavily-timbered whaler, but not in a glorified band-box, if you'll pardon my way of expressing myself, sir," said Rogers. "Even then I remember quite well getting a nasty nip. Stove a hole in our port bow, but luckily above the water-line. The best thing to do, sir, is to sheer off and run a few miles to the westward. You'll probably find the drift doesn't extend very far; only a matter of an hour's run."
"Your advice sounds goods Rogers," remarked Ranworth.
"Sure, sir, it always is," rejoined the man, not from any motives of self-conceit. "I'll allow you'll find I'm right before another hour's past an' gone."
Keeping within half a mile of the edge of the newly-encountered barrier, theBird of Freedommaintained a steady, unswerving course. In order carefully to examine the ice for a possible passage, her speed had to be materially reduced.
Payne took the helm while Ranworth kept his binoculars upon the long, low-lying expanse of ice. Leslie and Guy, their work for the time being completed, took up their positions at one of the observation scuttles and watched the monotonous aspect of the Arctic sea.
Suddenly a column of water rose thirty or forty feet from the surface at about a hundred yards on the starboard bow.
In a loud voice that almost caused the two lads to start with alarm, Rogers shouted:
"There she blows!"
Then, realising his surroundings, the seaman added apologetically:
"Sure, I was forgetting myself entirely, sir; yon's a whale, an' for the moment I thought I was back on the old Sarah Ann of Hull."
"A true hunter's instincts, eh?"
"Don't know about that, sir," replied the imperturbable seaman. "All I know is that yonder a small fortune's goin' a-beggin', and there ain't a harpoon on board."
"Hadn't you better alter helm, Payne?" asked Ranworth. "We don't want to try conclusions with the animal."
"No need, sir," replied the helmsman reassuringly. "They're right down cowardly fish. They scoot like——"
His words were interrupted by the appearance of a dark, ill-defined object less than fifty feet from the port bow. The object resolved itself into the tail of an enormous whale.
Giving the water a blow that sounded like the explosion of a 6-inch gun, the mammal disappeared in a smother of foam and a violent upheaval of water thatcaused the buoyantBird of Freedomto surge and roll at an alarming angle.
"Jolly good thing we weren't closer to that fellow's tail," exclaimed Guy. "My word, what a smack."
"A miss is as good as a mile, Master Guy," declared Payne. "He's off this time—sounded, we call it. It'll be half an hour or more before he comes up again for a breather."
Guy did not feel so certain about it after the rapid collapse of Payne's previous attempt at prophecy. His doubts were soon confirmed, for a warning shout from Rogers announced the reappearance of the whale a couple of hundred yards astern.
"Well, of all the cool cheek!" he ejaculated. "Blest if I ever saw a whale do that before. Clap on steam, sir, he's coming for us."
The old whaler man was right, for the animal, possibly mistaking the sleigh for a mammoth after its own kind, was preparing to attack.
As quickly as possible Leslie coupled up the two aerial propellers, at the same time increasing the revolutions of the motor. With a decided jerk, theBird of Freedompicked up speed and fled.
"Hanged if we are even holding our own," exclaimed Ranworth, who with Guy and Rogers had gone aft to keep the pursuing whale under observation.
"We're not, sir," added Rogers calmly. "Can I have a shot at him?"
Ranworth assented. The seaman, taking a rifle from the rack, methodically adjusted the back sight. Then, unscrewing one of the two after scuttles, he rested the rifle upon the brass rim.
"Missed, by smoke!" he cried. "My own fault; the rattle of the scuttle did it. I ought to have known better."
Again levelling the weapon, Rogers took good care to hold it so that it did not come in contact with the vibrating metalwork. This time the bullet found a billet in the leather-like hide of the whale's back.
Infuriated by the pain, the animal thrashed the water with its tail and dived, only to reappear after a brief interval, and hold doggedly in pursuit.
"Can you get any more out of the motor?" asked Ranworth through a voice tube.
"She is doing her utmost, sir," replied Leslie.
The whale was now within fifty feet of the after part of theBird of Freedom. Owing to her light displacement, and small rudder area, the latter could not manoeuvre quickly, otherwise Ranworth would have attempted to shake off pursuit by a rapid use of the helm.
To him the situation appeared serious, especially as the small rifle bullet seemed to have no effect in bringing the pursuer's progress to a standstill.
"Never fear, sir," declared Rogers confidently. "I'll get him properly plugged in half a jiffy."
His rifle cracked as he spoke. More by good luck than good judgment the bullet struck the whale fairly in the left eye. Throwing up a column of blood-tinged water the animal dived and did not reappear.
"Your hour's nearly up, Rogers," said Ranworth, consulting his watch.
The crew had now gone for'ard again, and although theBird of Freedomhad traversed nearly fifty miles of water as she skirted the gigantic floe, no sign of an opening had yet presented itself.
The seaman merely shrugged his broad shoulders.
It wanted five minutes to the hour. "There's a likely place, sir," announced Payne,pointing to a part of the ice-barrier where, instead of ice ten to twenty feet of vertical cliff, the ice shelved towards the sea.
TheBird of Freedomwas headed towards the spot. As she drew nearer, it became apparent to the crew that the ice did not slope so gently as it seemed to at first sight. Yet with a little caution and skilful manoeuvring it might be possible to draw the huge bulk of the sleigh upon the level ice beyond.
"Yes, it looks scaleable," agreed Ranworth. "But we don't know what is beyond. It's no use if we find the ice is intersected by numerous crevasses. Easy with her, Leslie; we'll bring up close alongside, and get ashore. It will be worth the trouble."
Adroitly theBird of Freedomwas taken close in to the ice, and a couple of grapnels thrown ashore. Securely moored, the floating sleigh could be safely left for a brief interval, since there were no indications of a change in the weather.
Armed with an ice-axe, Rogers scrambled upon the shelving, slippery ice and proceeded to cut niches in the hard, smooth surface.
As soon as he had established a means of communication with the upper portion of the floe, a rope was thrown to him. This he made fast to the handle of his ice-axe, the after part of which was driven firmly into the ice. Steadying themselves by the rope, the rest of the party rejoined Rogers on the ice.
It was excessively cold. Coming direct from the comparatively warm cabin, the explorers noticed the change acutely in spite of their thick furs. Their limbs felt like lead, their faces were lacerated by the biting wind. To talk required a strenuous effort. Their exhaled breath, rapidly congealing, fell to the ground in the form of minute particles of ice.
On and on in single file plodded the five adventurers, bending as they faced the cutting northerly wind. Ranworth led the way, keeping a compass course, while, to make additionally sure of being able to retrace their steps, long scars were cut in the ice, pointing in the direction from which the party had come.
After traversing a mile, and meeting with no fissure in the ice sufficiently wide to impede the progress of the sleigh, Ranworth called a halt.
Sheltering under the lee side of a hummock, and huddled together for mutual warmth, the pioneers rested for a quarter of an hour. Hardly a word was spoken during the interval. The men were too exhausted, after stepping and stumbling over the rough ice and facing the biting wind.
Once more they resumed their slow march. Two more miles brought them within sight of open water. A passage had been found at the expense of hours of physical and mental exertion—a distance that could be covered in the sleigh in the space of five or six minutes.
"Best be getting back, sir," said Rogers huskily, pointing with his mittened hand towards the north. "There's snow falling beyond yon grey streak. Looks a regular blizzard."
The seaman was right. Before the party had traversed a quarter of a mile of the return journey, the watery-looking sun was hidden from sight. The wind rose until it blew with considerable violence, moaning dismally as it swept over the icebound plateau.
Each man was now tormented with the same thought, yet none dared express himself to the others. With the sudden springing up of the gale, theBird of Freedomwas in danger. Should the grapnels drag, or the securing ropes part under the strain, the sleigh would scud rapidlyalong away from the floe. The explorers, without provisions and means of shelter, would be doomed.
Then, accompanied by a rush of wind that almost threw the jaded men on their faces, came the blizzard.
WELL it was that Ranworth's party were walking with the wind, for progress against it would have been impossible. Everything within a few yards of them was blotted out by the hissing, stinging flakes of snow. In a very short time their landmarks were completely obliterated.
Everything in the matter of direction depended upon the little spirit compass that Ranworth held protected by his fur-covered mittens.
Not once, but many times, each member of the party slipped and came to the ground. At length Guy, numbed in body and mind, stumbled and fell upon the rapidly-increasing mantle of snow. It felt comfortable, did the snow. Lying there, he formed a firm resolve to rest and overtake the others later on. He was more than half asleep. With his head pillowed on his arms, there was peace.
Just then, something prompted Leslie to turn his head. Guy was missing.
Giving a shout that attracted the attention of his companion in front of him, Leslie pointed to a dark object just visible in the slanting avalanche of sleet.
Mechanically the others stopped, while Leslie turned and made his way back to the place where Guy was lying. Every step of the distance, as he faced thestinging wind, and whirling snow, was torture; yet, bravely staggering onwards, he reached his chum's side.
"Come on, old man," he said, kneeling by Guy's side and shouting into his ear. "You mustn't stop here."
Guy's only response was a drowsy movement of his head. Leslie in despair looked for his comrades. Three white figures, for the fur clothes were plastered in drifted snow, were looming up through the blizzard.
"Is he hurt?" shouted Ranworth.
"Don't think so," replied Leslie.
At a sign from their leader, Rogers and Payne assisted Leslie in setting Guy on his feet. Even then the lad showed a decided disinclination to budge.
Ranworth saw that it was a case for stern measures.
Raising his gloved hand, he gave Guy a smart blow on his face.
"Step out there!" he shouted roughly. "What do you mean by acting the goat?"
The action and the words had the desired effect. Roused by the sting of the blow, and dimly conscious that he was receiving an order, Guy stumbled forward. Leslie seized one arm, Payne took the other, and the tedious journey was resumed.
Of how long the weary tramp lasted Leslie had no idea. Suddenly he was aware that Ranworth held up one arm as a warning, and promptly sat down in the snow drift. It was the only way of checking his forward motion, so strong was the wind. At his feet was a chasm, too wide to leap across and too deep and steep to descend and climb the farthermost side.
Following their leader's example, the others threw themselves flat upon the snow. Even as they did so they saw the ice at the other side of the crevasse rock violently. Then, with a series of awe-inspiring crashes,the huge floe drifted farther away, causing the intervening abyss to increase in width.
Ten seconds later the mass of ice was lost to sight in the blizzard, while in its place was the open sea, sheltered for a short distance by the still intact part of the floe.
Beyond that space the surface of the water was lashed into a cauldron of foam by the wind and the driving, bullet-like flakes of snow.
The men clung together for mutual protection. Not a word escaped their lips, yet one and all knew the ghastly truth. The whole field of pack ice was breaking up. Already the outer portion had broken off; more than likely taking theBird of Freedomwith it.
"We'll have to go back a bit and dig ourselves in, sir," said Payne hoarsely. "It's our only chance. We may outlive the blizzard."
Back they went for nearly a hundred yards, literally battling every inch of the way, till they reached the lee side of a slight rise in the ice-field. Here the snow had drifted till it was nearly five feet deep.
Working desperately, the five men succeeded in scraping out a hole in the snow. Into this they crept, where, sheltered from the wind, they hoped to find a temporary shelter—at the best, so far as they could foresee, a brief respite ere death from cold and starvation overtook them.
"If this blizzard breaks up the ice-field, thePolaritywill be free," declared Ranworth. "We stand a chance of being picked up by her."
"Not much, sir," replied Rogers despondently. "We're miles to the west'ard of her course. 'Tain't no use mincing matters; we're properly kippered."
Ranworth made no reply. He knew that the seaman's candid words expressed the situation. Despair, for the first time, seized upon him.
Hour after hour passed. The men squeezed close together, listening to the howling of the wind and the hiss of the frozen rain, punctuated by the sharp crackle and deep rumble of the floe as it parted.
Occasionally Ranworth consulted his compass. The steadiness of the needle showed that up to the present the ice on which the doomed men were sheltering had not separated from the main field.
The pangs of hunger began to assail them. At Rogers's suggestion the men derived some relief by sucking pieces of ice. The almost overpowering desire for sleep was upon them.
At length the blizzard showed signs of abating. The speed of the wind decreased; the flakes of driving snow grew smaller and smaller, till presently they ceased.
The fatigued men were now able to review their position. They were within fifty yards of the open water.
During the storm, the floe had broken away considerably, since they had retired twice that distance a few hours previously. Yet the breaking up of the ice had affected only the immediate locality, for to the right and left the "pack" extended several hundred yards seaward, leaving a vast bay, dotted here and there with pieces of floating ice of varying sizes and shapes.
"Hanged if I can stick this, sir," declared Payne. "I'm off to see what's doing."
Ranworth made no reply. He had heard the seaman's remark, but an indifference owing to complete exhaustion and lack of food and sleep possessed him.
Awkwardly Payne bestirred himself and stood upright. For a brief period he remained gazing in the direction of the south-eastern part of the bay, then,stumbling and slipping, he went out into the piercing cold.
Silence fell upon the rest of the party.
An hour later Leslie yawned and attempted to move. His limbs seemed as heavy as lead. He felt that he must have been dozing. He was not cold. The warmth of his companions' bodies and the mantle of snow which had drifted into their place of shelter, tended to soften the rigours of the Arctic climate.
He had forgotten the horrors of the situation. Comparative comfort, following upon the strenuous fight in the blizzard, had dulled his brain and lulled his mind into a sense of false security. All he wished to do was to fall asleep.
"It's dangerous," he murmured drowsily, "but a few minutes' sleep won't hurt. I'll be right as rain after that."
His head fell forward, then with an exclamation of pain he bestirred himself. His cheek had come in contact with the edge of an ice-axe, and the keen metal had cut into his flesh.
Holding his mittened hand against the wound, Leslie sat up. He was annoyed, not so much at the accident, as at his companions' complete indifference to his cry of pain and surprise. Then it dawned upon him that there were only three of them, and all were sound asleep in the snow-drift—a slumber which, if prolonged, would be the sleep of death.
"Guy! Guy!" he bawled into his chum's ear.
Receiving no response, he vigorously shook the sleeping lad. The action, although it gave Leslie renewed vitality, failed to have any visible effect upon Guy.
"Perhaps he's dead already," thought Leslie, then desperately he began to pummel the unresisting form of his chum, until Guy moved, grumbled drowsily, andfinally opened his eyes. Nor did Leslie relax his efforts until his friend was able to show an intelligent knowledge of his surroundings.
"Buck up!" exclaimed Leslie. "We've got to tackle the others, if it's not too late."
Rogers gave very little trouble. As soon as he opened his eyes he seemed to realise the situation.
"Pity you didn't let us stop quiet," he said bluntly. "'Twould have been an easy snuff-out. Howsomever, now we've started we'd best carry on. Where's my mate?"
Neither Leslie nor Guy knew. They could offer no solution as to Payne's disappearance.
"Hard lines!" resumed Rogers. "He was a right good sort. But how about the Boss?"
The three now fully awakened members of the party proceeded to direct their attentions to Ranworth. While Leslie and Guy vigorously worked the unconscious man's arms and legs, Rogers rubbed his face with snow, until Ranworth opened his eyes.
"Up with him!" ordered Rogers.
They set the protesting Ranworth on his feet, and with justifiable roughness compelled him to walk.
Once, when through sheer want of breath they desisted, the patient's head immediately fell forward on his chest. But for the support given by his companion, Ranworth would have again collapsed upon the snow.
"Ahoy!"
A hail, sounding loud and clear, attracted the attention of Leslie and his comrades.
Looking across the bay, they saw at a distance of about a mile and a half the figure of a man. Owing to the rarefied atmosphere, the sound of his voice travelled with startling clearness.
"Ahoy!" replied Rogers. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Payne," was the response. "Fetch up here, sharp as you can. Here's the sleigh as sound as a bell."
"Thanks be!" ejaculated Rogers. "We're saved, Master Leslie. Mr. Ranworth, do you hear? Payne has found the sleigh. He says she's all right."
Ranworth's only reply was a deep snore. Still held in an upright position, he was fast asleep.
"Can you bring her alongside here?" shouted Rogers.
"No bloomin' fear," replied the distant Payne. "I'll not tackle a craft like that. Put your best leg for'ard and get a move on."
"P'r'aps it's as well," said Rogers to his companions. "We'll foot it. Take his other arm, Master Leslie. Master Guy'll relieve you presently. Keep him going."
Supported between Leslie and the seaman, Ranworth was compelled to walk. Stumbling in his sleep, he was urged forward, until the exercise restored his circulation. He began to protest, at first drowsily, then vehemently, and finally with less and less vigour until he, too, regained his senses.
Still supported by his companions, Ranworth found himself unable to stand alone, much less walk. Once or twice he had to be dragged feet foremost across inclined stretches of ice, which Rogers and the two lads had to negotiate on their hands and knees.
Although about a mile and a half directly across the bay, the place from which Payne had hailed them was nearly three miles distant by following the edge of the ice. When within a mile of their destination they were met by the fifth member of the crew of theBird of Freedom.
"Thank your lucky stars I toddled off, mates," began Payne.
"I'll thank you a jolly sight more if you'll bear a hand here," said Rogers pointedly, for he had stuck gamely to his task, having firmly declined to be relieved by either Leslie or Guy. "Considerin' as you owes me five bob, 'tain't to be wondered at that you toddled off."
"Let bygones be bygones, mate," rejoined Payne, as he took Ranworth's arm. "I'll admit I owes you two half-dollars, but you ain't got no call to remind me in the presence of these young gents."
Even in the solitude of the Arctic, while still beset by perils, the two seamen were on the point of quarrelling on the subject of a debt contracted in far-off Hull.
"Stop that!" ordered Ranworth sharply.
Notwithstanding his physical fatigue, Ranworth was quick to recognise the possibilities of friction between the two men. He knew that only stern measures would prevent them from committing a breach of discipline that would still more seriously endanger the safety of the expedition.
"Here we are, sir," reported Payne. "Best go slow; it's a bit tricky."
He pointed to a fairly steep slope of the ice, ending at the water's edge. Within twelve feet of the end of the barrier lay theBird of Freedom, moored fore and aft in almost the same position as Ranworth and his companions had left her.
Being on a weather shore, the floating sleigh had been protected by the ice wall, the only difference being that the slope had increased in steepness, owing to the melting away of the ice beneath the surface.
"I've cut fresh steps, sir," continued Payne. "P'r'aps I'd best nip on board and bring a coil of rope ashore. It might save some of us from having a bath."
Ten minutes later, the whole of the party were safely on board theBird of Freedom. Like men in a dream, they ravenously devoured a hastily prepared meal, then, completely worn out, threw themselves into their bunks. Now they could rest without the fear of sleeping the sleep of death.