CHAPTER IV.NOVA ZEMBLA.
“Escaped them, by thunder!” cried Frank, exultantly.
“Thank Heaven for that!” exclaimed Dr. Vaneyke.
Barney and Pomp had gone down below to attend to the machinery.
The rooms were magnificently furnished, and consisted of a cabin, a dormitory, dining-room, kitchen, storeroom and engine-room.
Each apartment was equipped with electric lights and an electric heating apparatus of Frank’s invention.
The motive power was derived from a dynamo which was driven by a small petroleum engine; there was a special machine for the electric lights, and the mechanism of the gyroscopes worked by a large number of storage batteries.
Any height could be reached in the air, according to the speed at which the gyroscopes were run, and the huge driving wheel drove the ice ship along at a prodigious rate of speed.
Upon reaching an altitude of 1,600 feet, Frank slackened the speed of the gyroscopes to conform to the height at which he desired to remain, and put the driving screw in motion.
The machine was then steered for the northeastward, and glided through the air like an arrow.
The machinery worked exactly as Frank had designed, and the ship of the air operated beautifully.
Barney and Pomp were so delighted over the professor’s escape that the former got out his fiddle and the latter his banjo, whereupon a lively tune was struck up and they played and sang until a late hour.
On the following morning the air ship was hovering over the Atlantic.
Pomp had taken charge of the cooking department, and the Irishman attended to the machinery when it became necessary.
The professor was a very much relieved man.
“Had I been incarcerated for that crime,” said he to Frank, as they went out on deck after breakfast, “I could not have gone with you, and might have been hung.”
“For my part, I was determined that you should not fall into the detective’s hands,” replied the inventor, “for I was anxious to have you go with me on this cruise.”
They shook out the sails, as the Ranger was going with the wind, and as the white duck bellied out, speed was added to the boat.
“Do you think we will meet the Red Eric?” asked Vaneyke.
“She has considerable start, but we may be able to overhaul her, as we can make very rapid headway,” Frank replied. “I owe Captain Ben Bolt a grudge for the scalp wound he gave me, and I’ll avenge myself by wresting Walter Grey from his power.”
“What is your destination?”
“The Kara Sea and the island of Nova Zembla.”
“It will be very cold there now.”
“Well, the boat is well heated, and we have warm fur clothing on board,” said Frank. “If there is ice on the island, we can travel over it on the boat’s runners, to examine the remains of the mammoth you say you wish to get for the institute you represent.”
“Yes. A gentleman of known veracity saw the body of a huge beast buried on Nova Zembla, and sent word to that effect to the Smithsonian, with directions how to find it. This, of course, is why I was so anxious to go with you, for I have orders to get part of the remains.”
They then went inside.
The barometer showed a height of 2,000 feet.
Below them lay the north Atlantic, and a number of ships were seen dotting the surface in different places.
A constant watch with telescopes was maintained by those on duty for some sign of the Red Eric.
Having reached the British isles the ice ship crossed the North Sea and sailed along the western coast of Norway.
From there she passed over the Barentz Sea at the north of Russia.
Nothing was seen of the whaling ship, and the island of Nova Zembla finally appeared in the distance.
Every day that passed by found the temperature decreasing.
Our friends were obliged to put on fur clothing, and the electric heating apparatus was put in operation.
It made the interior of the Ranger warm and comfortable, and rendered its inmates quite cozy.
The mercury in the thermometer had gone down to within two degrees of zero, and the upper regions of the air became filled with fine needles of ice that stung the skin of our friends when exposed to it.
But little sunlight was seen each day owing to the winter season.
Moreover, the sky in this region was so filled with heavy leaden-hued clouds that the meager light was still further reduced.
Upon first observing the icy particles that constantly filled the air, Frank was very much amazed, and involuntarily cried:
“We have been driven adrift in a frozen sky.”
“There is the island of Nova Zembla now,” said the professor, pointing away to the northeastward. “It is a land the interior of which has never been explored yet.”
Frank did not like the appearance of the island.
It looked like an elongated crescent, 600 miles long by 60 wide, and lay between 70 degrees 30 minutes and 77 degrees N. latitude and 52 degrees and 60 minutes E. longitude.
Its northeastern extremity was west of the meridian of Yalmal peninsula, and its southern was separated from Vaygach island by Kara Strait, 30 miles wide.
Nova Zembla was cut through the middle by a narrow winding channel called the Matotchkin Shar connecting the Arctic Ocean with the Kara Sea.
Upon a nearer approach to it Frank closely examined the place with a glass, and gained a fair idea of the interior.
The western coast was greatly indented by fjord-like bays and studded with many islands, and was less ice-bound than might be supposed, as a continuation of the warm current of the Gulf Stream flowed along the coast.
In the interior was an alpine region with isolated mountain peaks, a complicated system of spurs and deep valleys extending even under the sea.
At the north was a vast swelling of land covered with an immense ice sheet descending north and south to the sea coast.
All this region was covered with fields of snow descending in broad strips along the slopes of the isolated peaks, and feeding mighty glaciers in the deeper valleys.
While Frank was sizing up the desolate place a dense fall of snow began that hid the island from his view.
It was impossible to see where they were going, and as the wind had shifted around, it became necessary to furl the sails.
Leaving the old professor at the wheel, Frank called the coon and the Irishman to help him, and they went out on deck.
Mingled with the great clouds of down-falling snowflakes were the dreadful needles of ice that stung their eyes, were inhaled in their lungs, and fairly penetrated their skin.
The halliards were slackened off, and as the canvas fell in lazy-jacks the work of furling was reduced to a minimum.
Down fluttered the square sails from the yards, while the staysails were hauled to the bowsprit by the down-hauls.
Barney was at the mainmast, Pomp at the foremast, and Frank had gone up forward.
The wind was driving the ice and snow in their faces.
As soon as the canvas was down on the yards, the darky and the Celt ran up the shrouds to tie it down with gaskets.
All hands worked like beavers.
The sails had nearly all been fastened when the coon and the inventor were suddenly startled by hearing a wild yell from Barney.
It was followed by a snap like a pistol shot.
The foot rope had parted under the Irishman.
He fell toward the deck.
As he felt himself going he flung out his hands.
They encountered a back stay, and he grasped it tightly.
There came a violent shock on the rope, and it parted under the weight of the Celt’s body, but he retained his hold on the lower portion of it, and took a rapid turn of it around his arm.
Down he shot like a stone.
A shout of alarm escaped Frank when he saw his friend flying through the air, and go over the railing.
“Lost!” gasped the inventor, in tones of dread.
He rushed to the side, and Pomp hastened down from the yards.
Barney gave himself up for lost, for the Ranger was then at a height of 2,000 feet from the sea, and he knew he was bound to perish before landing in the water.
When he had reached the end of the broken stay, however,he paused with a shock that nearly pulled his arm out of joint, and wrung a groan of agony from his lips.
His body bounced in the air, and came down again with another jerk that fairly made him howl with pain.
But the turn of the rope around his arm saved his life, and he swung there like a clock pendulum.
For a moment poor Barney was dazed.
As soon as he had sufficiently recovered his wits, though, he seized the rope with the other hand.
That eased the strain on his arm and relieved his pain.
“Be heavens! I’m aloive!” he gasped.
He was panting hard, but in a few moments he yelled:
“Help! Help!”
Just then Frank reached the railing.
Peering over he saw the Irishman.
“Thunder!” he cried, with a thrill of hope darting through him.
“Am he gone?” cried Pomp, reaching the deck.
“No; help me haul up the broken stay.”
“Wha? fo’?”
“He’s on the end of it.”
“Glory halleluyah!”
They both grasped the line and began to haul the Irishman up.
Barney was pulled half-way up to the deck in this manner, when suddenly there came a shout from the professor.
“The ice ship is falling!”
Such was the cry that startled Frank.
He glanced up at the gyroscopes.
They were moving very slowly compared to the speed at which they had been spinning.
The cause was apparent to Frank at a glance.
Holding the falling ice and snow, the metal spars were so cold that the flakes congealed around the pivots, choking them so that the ice thus formed interfered with their revolutions.