“THE SHIP! THE SHIP!”
Two days went by slowly--so slowly that they seemed a week--and nothing
out of the ordinary happened.
Nothing came near them in the shape of bird, beast, or man, and their
feeling of loneliness increased.
“It’s queer there aren’t any Esquimaux up here,” said Bob on the second
day, after a tramp of nearly a mile across the icy plain.
“They probably fear the fogs,” returned Barry. “But I don’t know
as you could call them Esquimaux, Bob. They’d more than likely be
Indians--down here.”
“Well, anybody would be better than nobody--providing they proved
friendly.”
“I agree with you.”
“What do you think has become of the Arrow?”
“I can’t imagine. For all we know she may be at the bottom of the
ocean.”
“If he managed to save the ship, surely Captain Gordon would do his
best to find us.”
“I don’t doubt that. But saving the Arrow couldn’t have been easy,
when the breaking up of the iceberg began.”
That night, while they were sleeping, came another scare. The icy plain
shook violently, sending the snow house tumbling about their heads.
There was crash after crash, and a grinding that was sickening to their
ears.
“Hellup!” shrieked Stults. “It vos an earthquake! Safe me!”
“I guess this berg has struck another berg,” said Barry. “It was an
awful shock. I wish it was daylight.”
They all wished that, but daylight did not come until several hours
later, and then with it came the fog once more, shutting out the view
as before.
All felt depressed, and Stults cuddled up in a heap beside the ruin of
the snow house.
“Vot’s der use?” he sighed. “Ve vos all going to been swallowed up by
dem icebergs sooner as later, udder else starved to death so soon as
der pear meat vos all gone. I dink me I vos sit town and die right avay
now alretty!”
“Come, cheer up, man!” cried Barry. “You mustn’t give way in this
fashion. Remember the old saying, ‘while there is life there is hope.’”
“Yah, but ven der pear meat gifes owit, Mr. Filmore, vot den, tole me
dot, vill you?”
“But the bear meat isn’t gone yet, and won’t be for some time.”
“Vosn’t you sick of dot meat alretty?”
“Certainly, but it’s all we have, and so there is no use in grumbling.
Come, let us go do a little exploring.”
“No, I vos sit right here. I got enough of dot exblorin’--mit dumbling
dot hole town and being carried der sky up. I vos sit here and die.”
“Gosh, but Stults has got ’em bad!” burst out Bob. He felt depressed
himself, but did not wish to show it. “He ought--Hark!”
There was no need for Bob to utter the last word, for every one of the
party had heard the sound and leaped to his feet in joy.
“A ship’s gun!” burst from Barry. “It must come from the Arrow!”
“We’ll fire an answering signal,” said Bob, and catching up the shotgun
he blazed away into the air.
Half a minute of intense suspense followed and then they heard the gun
again, coming from the westward, as near as they could judge.
“The ship! the ship!” cried Bob, dancing with joy. “Come on, both of
you!” And away he rushed over the icy plain.
The others were not slow to follow, even Stults being almost as quick
to run as Barry. The course was over the plain and around several
crevasses, and then up a long slope, where climbing was exceedingly
difficult.
As they advanced, the gun boomed out once more, and Barry lost no time
in answering with a shot from his rifle.
“We are getting closer!” said Bob. “Oh, I do hope it’s the Arrow!”
It seemed as if they would never reach the top of the icy slope. At one
point the way was so slippery they had to brace against each other to
keep from sliding clear down to the bottom.
“I can’t vos climb dot!” panted Stults. “I vos preak mine neck first!”
Bob was now crawling on hands and knees. He had his hunting knife in
his hand, and with this he dug into the ice as he proceeded.
Again the gun boomed forth, and now the sound filled them with dread.
“It is farther off!” groaned Barry. “They are leaving us!”
“No! no! They must not leave us!” panted Bob. “Oh, if only I was at the
top!”
On he went, clutching at the ice with his hand, and digging viciously
with the keen knife point. He was but a dozen feet from the summit, and
presently his head came on a level with the top, and he looked over.
“The ship! the ship!” he screamed in delight. “It is the Arrow!”
A perfect frenzy of joy seized him, and, standing on the icy summit, he
yelled with all the power of his lungs, and then took off his jacket
and swung it in the air.
Was the signal seen? He waited with his heart in his throat. The
Arrow was headed away from them, moving through a mass of loose ice
surrounding the big berg.
“Fire the rifle again!” he called to Barry. “Quick!”
The weapon was discharged twice over, and Bob continued to wave his
jacket. Then he saw the Arrow swing slowly around and come toward them.
“She sees us!” he gasped, “Come on!” And so speaking, he let himself
slide down the opposite side of the icy summit. The force of the
descent carried him to the very edge of the berg and there he stood
waiting for those on the Arrow to reach him.
The steam yacht came up to the side of the iceberg with ease, and by
this time Barry and Stults were also coming down the icy summit. Poor
Stults, unlucky to the end, could not stop his descent, as had Bob and
Barry, and went flying into the icy water, to be picked up later by
Captain Gordon with a boat-hook.
“Mine cracious, vot a path!” yelled the German cook, as soon as his
head came up. “Dake me out, or I vos froze so stiff as a cake of ice
alretty kvick!”
Bob was the first on board, and Barry quickly followed, and both they
and Stults were welcomed back as from the grave.
They had to tell their story in detail, not once but several times, and
to the narrative all those who had been left on the Arrow listened with
keen interest.
“We, too, have had our share of adventures,” said Captain Gordon. “When
that first breaking up of the iceberg came the Arrow almost turned
over, and we shipped so much water that we had to work lively to keep
from going to the bottom. Then we ran into a fog bank and got all
twisted around, and, after that, we met a whale that insisted on coming
on board, until we trained a gun on him and filled him with grape shot.
I reckon the whale was as hungry as those big birds you met.”
Captain Gordon told them that the icebergs and the Arrow were moving
steadily for the South Pole. It was decided to bring what remained of
the bear meat on board without delay and then continue the journey.
Stults refused to leave the ship again, and kept to his cook’s galley.
The meat was brought in by several sailors, accompanied by Bob, and the
next day those on board had fresh meat for the first time in many days.
“But I don’t want to go after any more,” said Bob. “At least not if it
is going to cost us as much trouble and worry as this meat has.”
“No, we’ll stick to the Arrow after this,” answered Barry. “To look
back on the days spent on that iceberg makes me shudder.”
They were now within ten degrees of the South Pole, and the ocean
itself was covered with an icy slush, the grinding up of thousands of
icebergs. The water here was intensely salt, and this saltiness was
what kept the ocean from becoming one vast field of ice.
“We are going to get to the South Pole after all,” said Barry. “We
haven’t much farther to go.”
Yet progress was slow, for the icy slush interfered greatly with the
Arrow’s screw. It was now night nearly all the time.
“It’s lucky we have a good stock of provisions on hand,” remarked Bob.
“It looks as if we might have to remain here for a long while.”
“Well, we haven’t enough provisions to last forever,” replied Barry.
Ten days later found them running along a shore of rocks, thickly
covered with ice and snow. It was clearer than usual, and for the first
time in a week the sun shone brightly, although well down toward the
horizon.
“I believe we’ll find it warmer directly at the South Pole than at a
distance from that point,” observed Captain Gordon. “It is certainly
warmer to-day than it was yesterday, and yesterday it was warmer than
the day before.”
“I have noticed that,” returned Bob. “I hope we do find it warmer.”
The hope seemed likely to be realized, for the next day it was warmer
still, so that everybody was glad enough to come to the deck for fresh
air. They were now less than two degrees from the South Pole.
“We’ll make it,” said Barry, on the following morning. “We lack less
than a dozen miles of the distance now!”
“But what desolation!” murmured Bob. “Nothing but snow, ice, and
water--not an animal, a bird, or a tree! It’s awful!”
The Arrow was moving along slowly but steadily, and before noon Captain
Gordon, who was studying several scientific instruments, gave a loud
hurrah.
“The South Pole! We have reached it at last!”
A ringing cheer followed. They had indeed gained the South Pole. How
the civilized world would stare at them upon their return!
“We must go ashore and erect some sort of monument,” said Barry.
This was agreed to, and soon the Arrow was running for the nearest
stretch of ice-covered rocks. The shore was still some distance away
when Bob let out what was little less than a scream.
“Look! look! The Black Eagle, the missing treasure ship!” he cried,
hoarsely. “And a man is on her deck waving his hand to us. Can it be my
father?”