A VISIT TO AN ICEBERG.
Frank came to the door of the pilot-house with an eager expression upon
his face.
“Come out here, Barney and Pomp,” he said. “We are pretty near the
Arctic regions now.”
“A’right, sah!” cried Pomp, as he tumbled out of the pilot-house.
Barney followed him.
There was no doubt but that they were getting into the cold latitudes,
for the air was keen and biting.
Also to the northward there was visible a fleet of white icebergs.
It was a beautiful sight.
The voyagers gazed upon it for a while, when an idea suddenly occurred
to Frank.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “I’d like nothing better than to visit yonder
berg. It would be well worth the while.”
“Begorra, I’m wid ye, Misther Frank!” cried Barney.
“Huh! don’ yo’ flattah yo’self, I’ish. I done reckon Marse Frank take me
along wid him.”
“We will see about that!” said Frank. “Head for that big berg yonder,
Barney.”
“All roight, sor.”
Barney went to the switchboard and set the Explorer’s course for the
distant berg.
Rapidly the berg drew nearer.
It was one of enormous size, seeming fully a half mile in length.
It was broken up into pinnacles and mighty peaks of clear, shining ice.
Truly in the sunlight it made a beautiful spectacle.
Frank and Barney went below and donned fur suits.
Pomp was ready to do the same, as they were now in latitudes
sufficiently cold for that.
It had been decided that Pomp was to remain aboard the Explorer.
Frank and Barney were armed with rifles and carried axes in their belts.
They also carried steel-tipped poles for climbing the ice cliffs.
Thus equipped they left the submarine boat.
This was done by running the boat close to a shelf of the berg, upon
which the two explorers stepped.
“We will soon return,” said Frank to Pomp. “Keep a lookout for us.”
“A’right, sah!” replied the darky.
Then Frank and Barney struck into a crevice of the cliff, through which
they climbed to heights above.
This brought them, to their surprise, to the mouth of a wonderful
cavern, which seemed to extend down into the heart of the berg, how far
they knew not.
“Wonderful!” cried Frank, excitedly. “I have never seen anything more
beautiful, Barney!”
“Shure, sor, there’s nothin’ short av Oireland loike this!” conceded
Barney.
“What a tremendous cavern!”
“Ay, sor!”
“Upon my word, it looks somewhat as if something or somebody had
inhabited it.”
Frank made this statement in all seriousness. It certainly did look as
if the cavern had been inhabited by some animal, or even human beings.
There seemed to be a well beaten path over the icy surface.
This extended into the cavern an indefinite way.
Frank was now interested.
He was determined to follow it.
Accordingly he thrust some fresh cartridges into the breech of his rifle
and started into the cavern.
Barney followed him.
For some way they kept on. The path was plain and well worn. But as yet
nothing had been seen of animal or human being.
The cavern was now enlarging into mighty arched chambers.
It was as light as day under those beautiful arches of ice, and truly a
sight beautiful beyond description.
The ice assumed all sorts of fantastic shapes, and the roof of the
mighty cavern seemed supported by huge pillars.
“This is like a trip to Fairyland!” cried Frank, rapturously.
But suddenly Barney clutched him by the arm.
The Celt’s face showed terror.
“Shure, sor, whativer is that?”
Frank felt a thrill of alarm.
A strange shock rang through the berg. This was followed by a distant
terrible boom like thunder.
For a moment it seemed as if the berg was coming to pieces.
There seemed good cause for terror.
The two explorers were much alarmed.
But the sound died out, and all was again tranquil.
“Och, hone, I thought the berg was afther goin’ to smash!” cried Barney.
“Shure, sor, I reckon we’d better get out av here at wanst, sor!”
“Oh, no, I reckon it’s all safe enough now,” said Frank, lightly. “It
was only the breaking off of some distant part of the berg. Let us go on
once more.”
With this the young inventor took a step forward.
But in that instant he felt something giving way beneath his feet, and
heard a warning cry from Barney.
It was an awful cry of terror, and the young inventor made a desperate
spring forward.
This was just in time.
He gained a firm footing and turned about with a thrill of horror to
witness an awful sight.
A tremendous hole yawned at his feet.
Down this Barney had plunged with awful certainty of going to his death.
For a moment Frank Reade, Jr., did not move or speak, so overcome with
horror was he.
Then he recovered from the lethargic spell upon him.
“My God!” he cried. “Barney, where are you? I hope you have not gone to
death!”
But no answer came back.
All was silent.
There was a distant rumbling, roaring sound coming to the hearing of
Frank Reade, Jr., from the depths.
That was all.
Frank, almost paralyzed with horror, crept to the verge of the abyss.
Leaning over the edge he peered down into the awful depths.
But his gaze could not go beyond a distance of twenty feet.
It seemed like a circular shaft, which extended in a crooked course down
into the heart of the berg.
The top of this orifice must have been covered with a thin coating of
ice and snow.
Barney’s weight had been just enough to break this in.
A thousand terrible reflections coursed through Frank’s mind.
He knew that Barney had fallen through this terrible shaft.
But whether he had gone to his death or not, of course he could not say.
Already in his terrified fancy he saw the Celt in the waters of the
Arctic under the berg.
This, of course, if the shaft really extended down through the berg. Of
course there was a possibility that it did not. What was to be done?
It was of no use to go for help, for that was not to be obtained.
If he returned to the Explorer it would avail nothing, for the boat
could not be left alone to allow of Pomp’s returning to his assistance.
It was a terrible position.
Frank made sure of the stability of the orifice, and then lying flat
upon his stomach shouted:
“Barney! Where are you? If you are alive and can hear me, answer!”
But no answer came back.
All was the stillness of the tomb.
Once Frank fancied that he heard a faint halloo. But he was not sure of
it.
The young explorer arose to his feet sick and faint.
A groan escaped his lips.
“Well,” he muttered, regretfully, “Barney is gone. Poor fellow! He was a
faithful servant and I feel his loss much.”
He turned away from the pit with a dull feeling about the heart.
But he would not yet wholly abandon hope.
He conceived the idea that Barney might have been carried into some
other part of the berg, and would yet turn up all right and safe.
With this faint hope, Frank went from one passage to another, looking
for a descending one.
But none seemed to exist.
In his excitement he did not take the pains to note just where his
footsteps were carrying him.
From one passage to another he went in a frantic way.
Suddenly he came to a narrow opening between walls of ice.
A beaten path seemed to lead through this. But this fact Frank did not
appear to notice.
He fancied that this passage might lead him into the berg deeper, so he
made an effort and squeezed through.
The next moment he was sorry that he did so.
He came into a square chamber about fifteen feet square.
What looked at first like a heap of white snow lay in his path.
But on the instant it became animated, and Frank to his horror saw that
it was alive.
It was really a mammoth specimen of the Polar bear.
The big brute sprang up with a low growl.
On the instant Frank saw that he was in for it.
He had advanced too far into the place, and as he rose to his feet the
bear was between him and the entrance. There was no retreat.
“By Jupiter!” gasped the young inventor. “I’m in for it!”
The bear was upon his hind legs and was uttering ferocious growls.
It was evident that he did not by any means like this intrusion into his
domains.
Frank was not slow in assuming the aggressive.
He knew that the advantage would undoubtedly rest with the one who got
at his work first.
Accordingly he instantly raised his gun and fired point blank at the
bear.
The bullet struck the brute full upon the skull.
But unfortunately it struck in such a way that it could not penetrate
the bone.
The bullet glanced from the bear’s skull, inflicting a wound that only
maddened the brute.
Before Frank could elevate the piece again the brute was upon him.
The rifle was dashed from his grasp like a straw, and he was hurled
several feet away.
He was upon his feet just in time to meet the brute again with his ax in
his hand.
But the brute’s weight carried him back, though he rained blow after
blow upon bruin’s skull. The situation was a desperate one for Frank
Reade, Jr.