"How is Mr. Ranworth?" asked Leslie, as the rescued crew of the airship were in the act of entering the huge sleigh—a contrivance which they viewed with ill-concealed interest and admiration.
"Jolly rotten!" replied Guy. "The fall must have caused more injuries than we at first supposed. I managed to persuade him to turn in, and now he can't move his arms. The muscles of his back and chest are badly strained."
"Let's hope he hasn't sustained internal injuries," said Leslie. "Luckily one of the Russians is a doctor. He'll have a look at him."
While Leslie and Guy got theBird of Freedom"under way," the Russian doctor made a careful examination of the injured man. He was able to pronounce that, to the best of his belief, Ranworth had sustained no internal injuries, but that the sudden jerk of the rope had badly bruised his flesh and had strained his muscles. Absolute rest was essential to recovery, and under favourable conditions the patient ought to be fit within a week.
With little delay theBird of Freedomreturned to Observation Camp. During her absence, O'Donovan had worked wonders with the men left under his charge. Two good meals and a liberal dose of lime juice had effectually checked the tendency towards scurvy inthose members of the expedition who had not already been attacked by the distressing malady; while the others were progressing favourably under the Irish seaman's treatment.
The total of the party at Observation Camp now amounted to twenty—four of the crew of theBird of Freedom, seven of the Claude Ranworth Expedition, and nine Russians; and since the sleigh could only accommodate sixteen, the question of a double journey to Desolation Inlet had to be seriously discussed.
Eventually it was decided that the two Ranworths, four Englishmen, and five Russians should be the first total of passengers, Leslie and Guy being in charge of the sleigh. O'Donovan was to remain with the rest of the two expeditions until theBird of Freedom, with an augmented crew, returned to Observation Camp. The stores taken from the sleigh were more than sufficient for a week, and since, with ordinary luck, the double journey ought not to take more than three days, there need be no anxiety on the score of hunger.
Just as theBird of Freedomwas about to start, an animated discussion took place between Petrovitch and his fellow countrymen.
After a while, the former explained to Leslie and Guy the meaning of the argument. It appeared to the lads a very simple matter, but the Russians took it quite seriously; they had just made the discovery that the complement of theBird of Freedomtotalled the unlucky number of thirteen.
"I suppose we must pander to the superstitious sentiment of our Russian friends," remarked Guy. "We'll either have to take an extra man or else leave one behind."
"Then we'll leave one behind," decided Leslie. "After all, it will make a fairer distribution of the load,and, honestly, I'm rather doubtful about the reserve of electricity in the accumulators. The needle of the volt-meter is pretty close to the working limit, and the less weight we have to take, especially on the up-grade, so much the better for us. I'll tell Petrovitch to drop one of his chums."
This arrangement the Russians accepted without demur. Once on board theBird of Freedom, they recognised the fact that Guy, although a stripling, was acting skipper, and loyally they carried out whatever orders he gave through the medium of the gigantic and good-natured Petrovitch.
"The cabin looks like a Red Cross ambulance van," declared Guy, glancing at the half-dozen patients lying either on the bunks or on the floor. "You'll have to go slowly, old man, when we get to the rough ice, or they'll have an awful time. I'm afraid Mr. Ranworth's out of the running for the rest of the trip."
"Eh, what's that?" demanded Ranworth, who had overheard the conversation. "Out of the running? Not much, my lads. I mean to see this business through, and I'll be at the helm when we start again for Observation Camp, or my name's not John Ranworth."
"I hope so, too," said Leslie.
"Not that I doubt your qualifications, my lads," Ranworth hastened to add, "but this is my show, you know. However, carry on. I'll say this: I've patted myself on the back many times when I remember what you two fellows have done for me. It was a lucky accident that brought you on board thePolarity."
Almost without incident, theBird of Freedomarrived at the defile where on the outward journey the mammoth had been found. It was now almost covered with snow and debris, for a fresh fall had occurred. Only the head and the gigantic tusks were visible.
"We must not stop," declared Ranworth when Guy reported the circumstance. "Next time, perhaps. I am really most anxious to secure that mass of ivory, but I don't think there will be another landslide before we pass this way again."
At length the critical test of the journeybecame imminent: thepassage over the glacier.
Leslie took the precaution of disconnecting the aerial propellers, and bringing the decapod wheels into action. Extreme caution was necessary, since the grade was all downwards, and the ice, except where it was impeded by boulders, smooth and very slippery.
In addition, a strong northerly breeze was piping up, and since the body of the sleigh offered considerable resistance to the wind, there was a danger of theBird of Freedomgetting out of control had she rested entirely on her runners.
Presently Guy gave the word to switch off the current, and, applying the locking brake to the wheels, brought theBird of Freedomto a standstill.
A hundred yards ahead lay the open waters of Desolation Inlet, but between lay the rough ice left by the violent disruption of the seaward end of the glacier.
"We'll see what it is like before we start any steeplechasing with the sleigh," declared Guy. "I'll get Petrovitch to give a hand, for it won't be safe to approach the edge unless we are roped together."
"It looks an awfully nasty bit to tackle," remarked Leslie, as the two, connected by twenty feet of rope, stood as near as prudence dictated to the edge of the glacier. "There's something of an incline away on the right. It will mean a leap of five or six feet to gain the surface of the sea, but there seems to be a good 'takeoff.'"
"That's the place," decided his chum. "At thesame time, I hardly like the idea of taking the sleigh over the edge with a cargo of sick and injured men."
"I quite agree with you," replied Leslie. "But what is the alternative?"
"Attract thePolarity'sattention, and get them to send boats. We can easily let the men down by means of ropes."
"Very good; we'll mention it to Mr. Ranworth," said Leslie.
The Russian, too, readily fell in with the suggestion. His faith in theBird of Freedomas a species of high diver was far from firm. The idea of a heavy mass of wood and machinery, with a full complement of men, being hurled bodily over the edge of the glacier, even though the vertical distance were but five or six feet, did not seem particularly inviting.
But when the matter was broached to the injured leader of the expedition, Ranworth was obdurate.
"She'll do it right enough," he declared optimistically. "It may shake us all up a bit, I'll admit, but it can't be helped."
"TheBird of Freedomwill have to get back to the summit of the glacier," Guy reminded him.
"Undoubtedly. She's tackled worse obstacles than that," replied Ranworth. "Besides, you must run alongside thePolarityto get the accumulators recharged. You must have forgotten that."
"Dash it all, sir, I did!" admitted the lad.
"Very well, carry on. Remember our promise to return to Observation Camp with the least possible delay."
"How do you propose to make the leap, sir?" asked Leslie. "Let her go full pelt under the action of the aerial propellers and alight on a fairly even keel; or let her go slowly and make a nose-ended dive?"
image: 08_toppled
image: 08_toppled
[Illustration: With a terrific crash theBird of Freedomtoppled completely over.To face page 151.]
[Illustration: With a terrific crash theBird of Freedomtoppled completely over.To face page 151.]
"Slowly," decided Ranworth. "Before her centre of gravity is over the brink of the ice her bows will be almost water-borne."
"Very good, sir!" said Leslie. And, a warning being given for all hands to Be Prepared for a slight shock, theBird of Freedom'smotors were set in motion.
For nearly two hundred feet she kept a course almost parallel with the end of the glacier; then, turning abruptly, she headed towards the shelving ice which the lads had selected as the best place for taking the water.
Suddenly the ice creaked and cracked ominously. There was no going back. The momentum of the sleigh was too great to allow its onward course to be checked.
The next instant, instead of descending an easy gradient, theBird of Freedomwas tilting sideways at an alarming angle. She had gained a large floe which had just become detached from the main portion of the glacier, and that floe was bodily capsizing.
The decapod wheels gripped the ice, until the angle of the smooth face of the floe became too acute. With a horrible, sickening movement, the sleigh began to slide sideways. It reminded Guy of a motor car skidding on a slippery road.
Leslie had the presence of mind to cut off the electric current. More he could not do. He braced himself for the impending catastrophe, for theBird of Freedomwas in imminent danger either of being thrown bodily against the hard face of an ice cliff or of being crushed by the overturning of the enormous floe.
He was dimly aware that the angle formed by the floor and one side of the cabin was filled with a crowd of struggling men, thrown thither like sheep by the extreme list of the sleigh; then, with a terrific crash, theBird of Freedomtoppled completely over.
A cascade of icy water poured in through a jaggedgap in the roof, which was now undermost. Then, like a cork, theBird of Freedomrighted herself, and tossed violently on the surface of the agitated sea, with two feet of water surging along the cabin floor and over the desperately struggling men.
Leslie, who had gripped one of the guard rails surrounding the motors, had performed a remarkable acrobatic feat on the impromptu horizontal bar, and as theBird of Freedomresumed her normal position he found himself lying across the engines, slightly bruised, but otherwise unhurt.
A quick glance through the nearest scuttle told him that for the present the water-borne sleigh was out of danger, unless she had sprung a leak below the water line.
"We're afloat all right!" he shouted.
His words had little or no effect upon the passengers, for those of the Russians who were not rendered unconscious were shouting as hard as they could. They were in a state of panic, fully expecting either to be crushed by the enormous mass of ice or else to be trapped like rats in the cabin of the foundering sleigh.
John Ranworth might have risen to the occasion and restored order, but he was lying stunned on the floor. His brother was in a similar plight, while Guy, pinned down by the body of a huge Russian, was incapable of moving hand or foot.
The panic, brought about by a fearful climax to a series of nerve-racking ordeals, was quickly over, and the rescued men began to sort themselves out from the tangled mass of humanity on the floor. Thanks to her design and build, theBird of Freedomhad come off lightly. Beyond a hole in the curved roof, caused by violent contact with a spur of sharp ice, there was no great damage. Everything not firmlysecured had been thrown about in utter confusion, while most of the stores and navigating instruments were lying in the water which flooded the floor.
"All right, Guy?" sang out his chum.
"All right," was the reassuring reply.
"Then stand by with the steering-wheel," continued Leslie. "The sooner we get alongside thePolaritythe better. There's plenty of work for the ship's surgeon, I guess."
At the first attempt to start the motors, there was a vivid flash, accompanied by a sharp report. The wet had caused one of the high-tension wires to fuse, and this had thrown the whole of the intricate machinery out of order.
"She'll drift all right," declared Guy. "The wind's right down the channel."
"Yes, broadside on," added his chum. "We can't steer her, and she'll be drawn ashore at the next bend."
"We'll get her under control yet," said Guy, whose nautical knowledge was far greater than that of his chum. "Make all hands come aft. That will raise her snout out of the water, and the wind will blow her round."
With the exception of Guy, who perforce had to remain at the steering-wheel, all on board went to the after end of the cabin. Even the sick and insensible ones were removed by their comrades.
The result was as Guy had foretold. TheBird of Freedom'sbows, caught by the wind, were turned until her stern pointed dead into the eye of the wind, while the third runner, which also acted as a rudder, was immersed to such an extent that it obtained a good grip upon the water.
Scudding before the wind, theBird of Freedomwas quite under control, rounding the dangerous point without difficulty. At Leslie's suggestion, three shotswere fired through one of the scuttles to attract the attention of the as yet invisiblePolarity, for two or three intervening spurs of cliff hid her from the sleigh.
Presently the ship came into view. Her crew manned the sides and gave three cheers for the returning sleigh. Seeing her coming "bows on," they erroneously concluded that she was under power.
In the lower reaches of the inlet it was now blowing hard. TheBird of Freedomwas scudding at a good twelve miles an hour, without means of bringing up.
Guy realised that if he approached too closely to thePolarity, a gust might drive the comparatively frail craft against her parent ship with disastrous results. If, on the other hand, he steered wide, theBird of Freedomwould drift helplessly to leeward of thePolarityand be in great danger of being blown into the open sea.
"Hang on to the helm, Leslie!" he exclaimed, and as his chum took his place at the steering-wheel, Guy snatched a couple of hand-flags from the locker and hurriedly made his way through the hatchway in the roof and gained the sloping and unsteady platform without.
The roof was slippery with ice. It was impossible to gain a foothold, without danger of sliding overboard as the sleigh rolled about helplessly.
Sitting on the combing, Guy began to signal. An answering call came from thePolarity.
"Not under control," signalled the lad. "Send a boat."
Back came Captain Stormleigh's reply:
"What's wrong with the grapnels? Too rough to lower a boat. Anchor and veer under our quarter."
"Pity we hadn't thought of that before," thought Guy. "It's blowing half a gale. We ought to have anchored much farther up the inlet."
Quickly descending from his perch, Guy, with the assistance of those of the passengers capable of bearing a hand, succeeded in bending the largest grapnel to a coil of rope. The treble glass plates in the foremost scuttle were removed, leaving an aperture just sufficient to admit the passage of the four-barbed anchor.
"Lower away!" ordered Guy. "Check the rope well in time."
The grapnel plunged to the bed of Desolation Inlet, taking with it the rope, which ran out so swiftly that the gun-metal rims of the scuttle were quite hot with the friction.
Then, as the rope took the strain, theBird of Freedomswung round as if on a pivot, almost capsizing every man on board who had neglected to obtain a firm grip. This was followed by a sudden jerk, and the sleigh, riding head to wind, brought up within ten feet of the starboard side of thePolarity.
It was quite near enough to be pleasant, for the ship was pitching violently, while theBird of Freedom, riding lightly on the white-crested waves, was at one moment level with thePolarity'sbulwarks; at another the ship towered thirty feet or more above the sleigh.
Now came the question of how to transfer the passengers and crew from the sleigh to the ship. An active man would have great difficulty in essaying the task, since it was impossible to get a foothold on the sloping deck. The sick and injured could not possibly be taken through the hatchway.
"We'll have to hang on till the wind moderates," declared Leslie. "I hope the rope will hold."
"It would be as well to get ready the spare grapnel and cable," said his chum. "It's jolly lucky that Desolation Inlet is practically tideless, or with the flood tide thePolaritywould be barging into us."
"I'll see how she's lying," said Guy. "I can't stop outside very long. It's too cold."
Barely had he thrust his head through the hatchway, when he announced that thePolaritywas swinging out her derrick. Captain Stormleigh was about to attempt the risky expedient of hauling the sleigh bodily out of the raging sea.
SLOWLY the steel wire hawser, terminating in a "span" with two enormous gun-metal hooks, was lowered through the block on the derrick.
"Sleigh ahoy!" roared Captain Stormleigh. "Send a couple of hands to engage the hooks."
It was much easier said than done. At about two feet from each end of theBird of Freedomwas a stout galvanised iron eyebolt. The "eye" projected above the rounded neck, while the bolt passed completely through and was secured by a nut to a massive crossbar on the underside of the floor.
Apart from the hazardous operation of engaging the hook of the span to the eyebolts—a task which necessitated two men making their way along the slippery, heaving deck—the sudden strain of the sleigh, which with motors and full complement weighed between ten and eleven tons, might burst the eyebolts asunder.
In calm weather the job would be a comparatively easy one, but the heaving and pitching of the ship and the sleigh made it impossible to obtain a gentle and gradually increasing strain on the wire hawser.
Guy looked at Leslie, and Leslie looked at Guy. They realised the terrible risk that was entailed, and that it was "up to them," as active members of the Britishparty on board the sleigh, to carry out Captain Stormleigh's instructions.
"Come on," said Leslie at length, and without further hesitation he clambered up through the hatchway and began to crawl cautiously towards the after ring-bolt.
"Hold on! Avast there!" shouted Captain Stormleigh. "Isn't there any man on board there?"
"No, sir," shouted Leslie in reply, for it was only by raising his voice to its utmost capacity that he could make himself understood in the terrific wind.
"Then get below at once," roared the skipper.
Only too glad to escape the task which was practically certain to be beyond their powers, the lads obeyed; but they left the hatch uncovered in order to follow the impending operations.
Presently a man, whom the lads recognised as Travers, the second mate, ascended the steel rope to the block at the end of the derrick. Then, transferring the weight to the outboard part of the rope, he descended till his feet came in contact with the large ring-bolt to which the two spans were attached.
Holding one of the hooks in his fur-gloved hands, Travers awaited his opportunity and deftly engaged the hook in the ring-bolt at the bow of the sleigh.
The derrick was slung aft so that the second mate could perform a similar operation there. This part of the business was a most difficult one. At one moment the engaged span was quite slack, at the next, as theBird of Freedomsank in the trough of the waves, it was as taut as an iron bar, while the sudden strain wellnigh jerked the plucky young officer from his precarious perch. In addition, he had to fight the telling effects of the numbing cold.
image: 09_deftly
image: 09_deftly
[Illustration: Holding one of the hooks in his gloved hand, Travers ... deftly engaged the hook in the ring-bolt at the bow of the sleigh.To face page 158.]
[Illustration: Holding one of the hooks in his gloved hand, Travers ... deftly engaged the hook in the ring-bolt at the bow of the sleigh.To face page 158.]
At the third attempt he succeeded in engaging the after hook. With a terrific jerk the sleigh was raised ten feet above the sea as thePolarityrolled to port. The next moment the return roll of the ship let the sleigh down with a resounding smack upon the white-foamed waves.
Travers, holding on like grim death to the span which he had now made fast, had slipped to the deck and was revolving round the chain in a vain endeavour to obtain a foothold upon the slippery platform.
The ship's donkey-engine was clanking. Slowly the wire rope was being wound round the drum of the windlass. Each jerk, as theBird of Freedomdropped with the waves, became less and less, until she drew entirely clear of the water.
Five minutes later the sleigh rested upon thePolarity'sdeck. Travers, with two fingers of his left hand smashed to a pulp, slid inertly from his precarious perch. Two of the crew were just in time to break his fall. Insensible he was carried below, another victim of the grim Arctic.
The sick and wounded men were quickly transferred from the sleigh to the main cabin of the ship, which speedily resembled a hospital ward. The ship's doctor was soon hard at it, assisted by plenty of voluntary workers. John Ranworth had already recovered consciousness, and his first question was how long it would take to get theBird of Freedomready for the second dash for Observation Camp.
Leslie and Guy, their work for the present accomplished, were sound asleep, worn out with fatigue. Aubrey Hawke, although unfit for active duty, was superintending the recharging of the accumulators and overhauling the defects in the wiring of the motors.
It was indeed wonderful that theBird of Freedomhad survived her fall from the glacier. Well it was thatthe engines had been strongly bolted to their bearers, for had the motors been wrenched from their beds they would have crashed through the roof of the sleigh and sealed the fate of all on board.
During the whole time the work of refitting the sleigh was in progress, Leslie and Guy slept like logs. It was not until twelve hours later that they awoke, to find Captain Stormleigh in the cabin.
"Mr. Ranworth insists upon going," declared the skipper ruefully. "He's not fit. I told him so, and he promptly remarked that my business was the safety and navigation of the ship. He's right there, of course, but I did my best to persuade him to give up the idea."
"How about the doctor?" asked Leslie. "Can't he put his foot down?"
Captain Stormleigh shook his head.
"He did, but it was of no use. Mr. Ranworth told him he had done his duty by expressing his opinion as a medical man. 'I'm going at my risk, not yours, Doctor,' he declared. 'So don't say any more about it.'"
"How is the weather, sir?" asked Guy.
"'Moderating," announced Captain Stormleigh. "The wind's veered a bit, so the creek is now fairly sheltered. The northerly wind is the only one we feel here. But what I'm here for is this: Mr. Ranworth sends his compliments and wishes to know whether you'll be ready by ten o'clock."
"Yes, sir, at ten o'clock," replied both lads promptly, and without more ado they proceeded to get ready for their second journey into the interior of the desolate Nova Cania.
As soon as they had had a good meal, the lads went on deck. ThePolaritywas no longer in her former berth. She had proceeded five miles farther up the creek, so asto be nearer to the only practicable landing-place, and in fact within sight of the glacier.
The damage to the roof of the cabin had already been made good. The motors were once more in working order, and charged ready for a thirty hours' run.
John Ranworth was standing with Captain Stormleigh under the break of the poop. His arm was in a sling, his face was pale and pinched, but the resolute look in his eyes was the same as ever. His indomitable spirit rose above bodily injuries. Rightly or wrongly, he was firmly resolved to take charge of theBird of Freedomin her second dash to Observation Camp.
"Good morning, lads," he exclaimed cheerily. "I thought you would raise no objection to accompanying me. We're taking a strong crew this time. There's Symonds, Purvis, Johnson, and Wilson."
The lads knew the men by name. They were all deck hands. Ranworth, out of consideration for the good service already performed by the lads, had refused the eager requests of some of the ship's officers to take part in the second rescue expedition.
If the next attempt were completely successful, theBird of Freedomwould have to carry fifteen on the return journey; for, in addition to her new crew, numbering seven, there were five Russians, two members of Claude Ranworth's party, and O'Donovan.
Before the sleigh set out on its errand, glasses were brought to bear upon the seaward end of the glacier.
It was found that, following the breaking away of of the ice, which had all but sealed the fate of theBird of Freedom, a comparatively easy gradient had been formed about eighty yards to the left of the spot where the sleigh had taken the water. Moreover, the iceappeared of a bluish tint, which meant that it was stronger and not so liable to break as the white ice.
Ranworth, in order to save his arm from additional injury, had taken his place in the cabin of the sleigh when theBird of Freedomwas lowered over the side by means of the derrick.
Leslie and Guy and the four seamen promptly clambered on board, and since there was very little motion, the task of disengaging the span hooks was a simple matter.
Amidst the good wishes of the rest of thePolarity'screw, expressed in the old-fashioned way of giving three rousing cheers, the sleigh gathered speed and steered for the selected landing-place on the glacier.
Although the wind was still blowing freshly from the nor'-west, theBird of Freedommade rapid progress. Without a hitch she surmounted the glacier and gained the open ground beyond.
An hour later she was passing through the defile in which the mammoth had been discovered. The strong wind had set a considerable portion of the landslide into further motion, with the result that the general slope of the debris was more gradual, while the gigantic frozen mammoth was uncovered as far as the forequarters.
"We'll have those tusks," reiterated Ranworth, "even if we have to make a third journey for them. If, however, we find that the sleigh makes light of her load, we'll stop and get the things on board on the return journey."
Ranworth, of course, could take no manual part in the management of the sleigh. He had to be content to sit at one of the two foremost scuttles, while Guy and the four seamen took turns at the steering-wheel. Leslie, having satisfied himself that the motors wererunning well, was able to "stand easy," since there seemed no immediate necessity to check their speed.
In exactly four hours from the time of starting from the ship, theBird of Freedomstopped at Observation Camp.
"All correct, sir," announced O'Donovan. "Faith, I'm far from being fed up with bear steaks yet. Sure, 'tis a fine place to cultivate an appetite. But what has happened to your arm, sir, if I may make so bold as to ax?"
Ranworth, as impatient as ever, was anxious to commence the return journey. The remaining members of the expedition were allowed to take their personal belongings. The Russians, having lost theirs, were soon ready.
One package only did Ranworth order to be brought into the cabin and the transporting of it was entrusted to Leslie and Guy. It was the lump of platinum, the value of which would more than cover twice the cost of the expedition.
By means of a rope made fast round the fur coverings, the lads dragged the precious metal to the side of the sleigh with little difficulty; but the task of lifting it up to the door in the side of the cabin was beyond them. Even when Symonds, the "strong man" of the party, bore a hand, the comparatively small package refused to be lifted from the ground.
"It's as heavy as lead," he growled.
"It so happens it's almost double the weight of an equal bulk of lead," remarked Leslie, "and it's ever so much more valuable than gold."
Eventually, by means of a tackle, the lump of platinum was taken on board and lashed down to the floor immediately in front of the engine-bed.
"I think we can dispense with a couple of hundredweight of those tinned provisions, Leslie," said Ranworth. "We won't need them, and they'll come in handy should we at some future time fit out another Nova Cania expedition. Get the men to stow them in one of the huts, only look sharp. The glass is falling, and I don't like the look of the sky. We are in for another blizzard, unless I'm much mistaken, so the sooner we get on board thePolaritythe better."
At length theBird of Freedomset out on her return, and, as the lads devoutly hoped, the final journey. By this time the wind had backed, and was now dead astern. With this circumstance in their favour, a speedy run was anticipated.
"We are in sight of the mammoth, sir," reported Guy, for Ranworth was resting in his bunk. "Do you wish us to stop?"
"How's the glass?" asked Ranworth.
"Still falling, sir."
"And with a northerly wind. It doesn't mean much."
Guy did not reply, but he recalled his chief's misgivings an hour previously.
"We'll stop," decided Ranworth. "I'll go with the men. Tell them to bring axes and saws, and some canvas and rope."
TheBird of Freedomwas brought to a standstill under the lee of a projecting part of the cliff, but at a sufficient distance to be out of danger of any landslide that might occur.
Ranworth, holding an iron-shod pole in his sound hand, led the way, accompanied by Guy and three seamen. Leslie remained on board with the Russians, the rest of the members of the original expedition, and Symonds and O'Donovan.
Scrambling up the sloping mass of rock and ice, themen began their task of sawing through the two enormous ivory tusks. It was a difficult business, for the tusks were as hard as iron, while frequently they had to run as hard as they could to avoid masses of rock, which tumbled over the cliffs.
"It's blowing jolly hard up there, Guy," remarked Ranworth. "We don't feel it much down here, and it's fortunate that thePolaritycame farther up the creek. She'd feel it pretty severely on her old moorings."
"It's beginning to snow, sir," said Guy, as a few flakes scuttled past.
"By Jove, yes. Hurry up, men. You've sawn enough. Clap a rope round the tusks and haul away."
Ranworth was sorry to have to give the order. It meant the risk of spoiling a portion of the ivory; but it was either that or having to abandon the tusks indefinitely.
The seamen obeyed promptly. They regarded the sawing as a hard, unnecessary task. The ivory meant nothing to them, beyond a relic of some worthless old fossil.
With a sharp crack the first tusk fell upon the frozen ground. The fracture was a clean one.
"Well done!" exclaimed Ranworth, as the men dragged the mass of ivory to where he stood. "Now for the other one."
Before the men could return to their task, the whole of the cliffs trembled violently. Disturbed by a violent gust of wind, the snow-field on the top of the surrounding hill was set in motion.
"Run for your lives, men," shouted Ranworth. "There's an avalanche upon you."
With a rush and roar thousands of tons of ice, snow, and rock swept over the edge of the cliff and crashed into the valley beneath. Almost by a miracle Ranworth and his companions escaped being buried by the irresistible fall of debris. When the powdered dust from the broken ice had subsided, neither the mammoth nor its severed tusk was visible. Both lay buried under thirty feet of snow and rubble.
"'So much for Buckingham!'" ejaculated Ranworth, as he viewed the scene of desolation. "Never mind, Let's get back to the sleigh. It might have been a jolly sight worse."
As the disappointed men retraced their steps, the snow began to fall heavily. The expected blizzard was upon them.
Suddenly a terrible uproar came from theBird of Freedom. Voices could be heard shouting discordantly, while above the crash of woodwork rang out the sharp crack of a pistol.
Without a moment's hesitation, Ranworth broke into a run, Guy and the seamen following his example; but, by the time they reached the sleigh, the uproar had entirely subsided.
"What's the matter, Leslie?" demanded Ranworth.
"Symonds, sir; the man must have suddenly gone off his head. We had to secure and gag him."
"Thank goodness it isn't any worse," murmured Ranworth. "I thought the Russians had cut up rough about something."
"They did," rejoined Leslie. "Luckily for us they saved the situation."
The cabin of theBird of Freedompresented a picture of utter disorder. In several places the interior panelling was smashed, fragments of cabin furniture lay scattered in all directions. On the floor bound hand and foot, and with a gag securely fixed in his mouth, was the seaman Symonds.
Leslie's surmise was correct. The man had suddenly gone mad. Under the delusion that the lump of platinum was his personal property, he had hurled himself upon one of the two Russians who unwittingly had touched the metal with his foot.
Although the Russian was a powerfully built fellow, he was weakened by the privations he had undergone, and was in consequence no match for the infuriated seaman.
His compatriot, coming to his aid, was threatened with a rifle which the madman had torn from the arms rack. Fortunately O'Donovan gave the weapon a sharp upward knock just as Symonds pressed the trigger, and the bullet went completely through the roof and mushroomed against the metal eye-bolt without.
Then ensued a fierce hand-to-hand struggle as O'Donovan and the Russians strove to overpower their unfortunate comrade. It was not until one of the Russians succeeded in slipping a running noose round the maniac's legs, that Symonds was capsized and bound hand and foot.
"Get her going, Leslie," said Ranworth, quietly. "We've lost enough time already."
During the last few minutes the blizzard had burst with all its fury upon the narrow valley. Although the wind was right aft, the whirling masses of snow made it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead.
"Decapods, sir?" asked Leslie.
"Yes—ten miles an hour. Come along, Guy, take the helm and keep your eyes skinned."
Gradually gathering way, theBird of Freedomploughed along through the newly-fallen snow. Her whole fabric trembled under the hammer-like blows of the wind.
So long as the sleigh was in the defile, there was little chance of getting out of the proper route, although there was always the danger of being crushed by the masses of debris which were continually falling from the cliffs.
On board, hardly a word was spoken. With the exception of the two foremost ones, all the observation scuttles were thickly caked with frozen snow. Unable to see anything without, the rest of the passengers and crew sat on the floor, since standing was attended with grave risks whenever the sleigh jolted over the drifts or tilted under the force of the wind.
Several times Guy was just in time to give the wheel half a turn and thus save theBird of Freedomfrom coming into violent contact with a projecting boulder. His coolness did not desert him in spite of the nerve-racking strain, yet he would have given almost anything to have handed the wheel over to some one else. "Hadn't we better slow down, sir?" he asked at length, for the snow was now falling with increasing violence.
"No, carry on," was Ranworth's reply. "It's all plain going now, until we approach the head of the glacier. We can't go wrong."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a gigantic boulder seemed to leap through the snow towards the sleigh.
Giving the wheel a sudden wrench, Guy strove to avoid the obstruction, but as theBird of Freedomswerved, a powerful gust of wind struck her fairly on her broadside. The next instant the sleigh, skidding violently, crashed into the mass of rock.
With a hideous rending of metal and woodwork, theBird of Freedomturned completely over on her side and slid bodily down a steep bank, finally bringing up against another jagged mass of hard granite.
Of what occurred during the next quarter of an hour, neither Leslie nor Guy knew. They were both in a semi-dazed condition, and barely aware that a calamity had happened. It was very dark in the upturned cabin, for the scuttles which were not crushed against the ice were covered in fallen snow.
Presently Guy put his hand to his forehead, and upon removing it, found it covered with warm and sticky moisture. His head was bleeding freely from a cut extending from his right eyebrow to his left temple.
"Leslie!" he exclaimed. "Are you there?"
"Hullo!"
In spite of his surroundings, Guy laughed.
"Sounds like a conversation on the telephone," he remarked. "But, I say, what a smash up!"
"Might have been worse," growled a deep voice which the lads recognised as Wilson's. "It's lucky there are some of us left alive. I thought I was the only bloke what wasn't knocked out."
"You ain't, then," chimed in another lusty voice—Johnson's this time. "Can't we get a light and see how things stand? Strikes me this ain't all shipshape and Bristol fashion."
Leslie thereupon remembered that in one of the racks was an electric torch. The rack was above his head, and out of arm's reach, for the other side of the cabin was the floor.
"Here you are, sir," announced Wilson. "I've been sitting on a hurricane lamp. The glass has gone to blazes, and most of the oil, but maybe you'll be able to get it to light."
"I've no matches," declared Guy.
"No more have I," added the seaman. "I'll collar Purvis' box. He's close to me, 'cause I can feel his beard and I guess he's in no fit state to object."
Wilson fumbled with the straps of his unfortunate comrade's fur coat, and presently succeeded in extricating a box of matches from the man's under coat pocket.
The lamp when lighted gave but a fitful glimmer, but it was sufficient to reveal the state of affairs within the overturned cabin.
Men were lying listlessly in every conceivable attitude. Most of them had been rendered unconscious by the terrific shock. In one corner a Russian was sitting up and stolidly supporting a broken arm. Two more of the airship's crew had escaped serious injury, and were philosophically keeping silence in spite of being bruised from head to foot.
Symonds, the man who had lost his reason, was dead. Examination showed that the lump of platinum had burst its securing lashings, and had crashed through the side of the cabin, instantly killing the madman in its wild course. Even now its weight was taking it slowly down to the bottom of the glacier, whence in the course of centuries it would be carried by the moving ice to the sea.
Quickly those who were able to move set to work to assist their less fortunate comrades. Buried beneath four unconscious forms, they found Ranworth, motionless, but still alive.
Of the fifteen who formed the complement of theBird of Freedom, eight were obviously unfit for further duty, most of them for many a long day. Only Leslie, Guy, O'Donovan, Johnson, Wilson, and two Russians were capable of taking any part in the task of extricating themselves from their dangerous position.
"What do you propose to do, O'Donovan?" asked Guy.
Although recognised as the acting skipper of theBird of Freedomwhile she was capable of motion, the lad now realised that O'Donovan's experience rendered him more suitable to direct operations.
"Do? Sure, sit tight for a bit," replied the seaman. "'Tis certain death to go out with this blizzard blowing. When the weather moderates, some of us will have to go for assistance. Have you any notion of how far we be from the inlet, Master Guy?"
"Only three miles, I think."
"Only three miles? You don't know what three miles means in these parts when you've got to foot every inch of the way. So I make so bold as to suggest that we tidy up a bit and wait."
"Suppose we are buried in the snow?" asked Leslie.
"Sure, we're that already," rejoined O'Donovan. "That's why it's so warm here considering there's half a dozen holes at least knocked through our hull. We can dig ourselves out in good time. What I don't like is the chance of another of those heavy launches."
O'Donovan's fear of another avalanche was justified, for the glacier was confined between two lowering cliffs from which ice and rubble were continually falling. At intervals the dull roar of the slipping debris could be heard distinctly by the occupants of the cabin.
For the next hour, first aid kept the seven men busily engaged. Then, having seen their patients as comfortable as possible on cushions spread upon the capsized side of the cabin, they prepared a meal.
"Two thousand pounds' worth of good machinery utterly wrecked, old man," said Leslie dolefully, as he examined the motors upon which he had lavished so much care and attention.
Even the stout metal bolts which held the motors to their bed-plates had been unable to withstand the sudden strain. The intricate machinery was only partly visible in a jagged gap in the side of the cabin, while the sulphuric and nitric acids were already eating away every bit of metal work with which they came in contact.
"What's that?" asked Guy anxiously, as a long-drawn creak sounded above his head.
"The weight of snow pressing on top of the cabin," replied O'Donovan. "Faith! 'Tis to be hoped it will hold, for there must be nigh on ten feet of snow above us. In three or four hours' time it will be frozen hard."
"We ought to be preparing for our dash to the inlet," said Leslie. "We have to consider what we're to take."
"We'll travel light, of course, sir," declared Wilson.
"And supposing it's too rough to get on board?"
"Then it won't be fit for us to make a move," rejoined Wilson with conviction. "But, perhaps, all the same, sir, we ought to take some grub and some firewood. One never knows."
Accordingly Leslie set aside a small quantity of provisions. He could not spare much, since, on Ranworth's orders, most of the tinned stuff had been left at Observation Camp. Firewood was necessary, since no fuel other than that brought ashore was obtainable.
The two uninjured Russians, on being told of the proposed journey, expressed their readiness to take part in the dash to the inlet; while, in order to transport the meagre stock of stores and provisions, they set to work to convert the cabin table into a small sleigh.
This they did by sawing the flap in halves lengthwise, since the breadth of the sleigh was limited to the widest dimensions of the hatchway. The runners they made from planks taken from the cabin floorand rounded off at each end so as to offer the least possible resistance to the frozen ground.
By this time there was nearly a foot of water in the cabin. Through the broken scuttles long cones of frozen snow were being forced by the pressure from without. These, melting in the warmth of the cabin, threatened to add considerably to the discomforts of the imprisoned men.
"Time to cut our way out," announced O'Donovan. "It would be better to knock up a snow hut for those who remain behind. If we're lucky, we ought to save all the provisions. Set to, mates, it's a long way to the top."
Thus encouraged, Wilson and Johnson, armed with an axe and shovel, threw open the hatch, which, formerly in a horizontal position, was now almost perpendicular.
Plying their tools vigorously, and heaping the displaced snow in one corner of the cabin, they commenced the tunnel to the open air, working in a diagonal direction in order to make communication with the cabin easier.
Every quarter of an hour the diggers were relieved, taking turns with the two Russians. At length daylight was seen to be filtering through the snow. The tunnel was nearing completion, steps being cut at regular intervals.
"We're through," shouted Wilson triumphantly; then he added: "And it ain't half snowing."
"Up with you!" exclaimed O'Donovan. "Every man take a shovel. We'll haul up some of that canvas. It may serve as a shelter until we build the hut."
Into the blinding snow the seven workers made their way. After strenuous efforts, a square of canvas was set up to prevent the snow blocking the newly-made tunnel, then all hands set to work to build a hut.
It was a toilsome task. Encumbered by their fur clothing and mittens, their faces cut with the frozen flakes, the seven manfully stuck to their work.
At the end of two hours a shelter measuring roughly fifteen feet by seven was erected and covered in by means of planks removed from the cabin. These were quickly covered with snow, which speedily froze into a solid block, while the drifts which accumulated on the weather side served still further to render the shelter proof against the strongest gales.
Yet there was no respite for the weary toilers. Furs were brought from the cabin and laid upon the floor of the hut. One by one the injured men were carried up the slanting tunnel and tenderly placed in the hut.
This done, the Russians hauled up their sleigh, which, until the men were ready to set out, was to serve as a door.
Thrice the lads descended into the now deeply buriedBird of Freedom, returning each time heavily laden with eatables, while the Russians busied themselves with obtaining fuel and oil.
On the fourth occasion, Leslie was half-way through the tunnel, when one of the Russians raced up the steps, and grasping the lad by the shoulders literally forced him back to the open air.
As he did so, the frozen snow shook beneath their feet, and with a rending crash the shell of theBird of Freedomcollapsed under the irresistible strain.
Once more Leslie Ward had escaped death by a hair's-breadth.