ON BOARD THE "POLARITY"
HOURLY Leslie Ward's and Guy Anderson's chances of being sent back
diminished. The _Polarity_, forging steadily ahead on a northerly
course, never sighted a single sail until in the latitude of Bergen,
when she fell in with a Norwegian timber ship, homeward bound.
"There's a chance for you fellows," announced Ranworth, as the two
vessels exchanged the customary greetings of the sea. "They'll take
you into Bergen, and there you'll be pretty certain to find a British
vessel bound for Hull or Grimsby."
"If you don't mind, sir, we'd rather not."
Ranworth whistled.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Apart from the uncertainty of finding a ship----"
"There's still more uncertainty, so far as we are concerned, my lad."
"We don't mind that," Leslie hastened to explain. "Thanks to you, our
people know we are safe. I should just love to take part in a Polar
expedition."
Leslie spoke with conviction. The possibilities of a voyage to the
Arctic appealed to him. Guy was of different mould. Polar research
had very little or no interest for him. He could not understand why
men should risk their lives and suffer all the hardships of a winter
in Polar regions merely for the sake of it.
Often he would argue with his school chums on the subject, his
favourite question being, what definite advantage was derived from
the fact that explorers had discovered the North and South Poles?
Was the world in general one whit the better when the Yankee Stars
and Stripes were planted at the North Pole, and the Norwegian Ensign
at the South Pole? Apart from Captain Scott's heroic efforts, were
the results of his expedition worth the price in life and money?
Nevertheless, when Leslie had broached the subject of "getting round"
Mr. Ranworth and obtaining his permission to accompany the rescue
party, Guy offered no objection.
The love of adventure was strong within him. He would have preferred
vastly to have been _en route_ for a Central African expedition,
where territory likely to be of some use was to be explored.
Eventually he decided that even the chance of a Polar expedition was
better than swotting at a public school, and, after all, there was
the voyage out and home to be taken into consideration.
"You may be awfully keen," admitted Ranworth, "but there is another
side to the question. When I chartered this vessel and picked my
companions, it was with a definite object in view. I had heaps of
fellows--friends of mine--offering their services, but I was forced
to decline the lot. Every man on board has his particular job. Now,
I'll put a blunt question: What special qualifications have each of
you that can be usefully employed to further the success of this
expedition?"
Leslie and Guy were silent for a few moments.
"I'm a good shot with a rifle," announced Guy.
"We're not likely to fall in with cannibals or Somalis," Ranworth
reminded him.
Guy knitted his brows in perplexity. Reduced to rock-bottom level,
his qualifications seemed absurdly few.
"Can you cook a meal for twenty men?"
"Might, if it came to a push, sir," replied Guy. "At any rate, I'd
have a jolly good shot at it."
"A willing heart goes a long way, my lad," said Ranworth. "Now,
Leslie, what are you proficient at?"
"I have a fairly practical knowledge of electric motors," replied the
boy.
"Indeed--of what types?" inquired the leader of the rescue party.
"You're young to take up that profession; I should have imagined that
you were still at school."
"I have to thank my father for that."
"And his name is, I believe, Decimus Ward?"
"How did you know that, sir?" asked Leslie, somewhat astonished.
"That's a secret," replied Ranworth, winking at Guy. "As a matter of
fact, he designed the motor-sleigh we have on board."
"Then I do know something of that," declared Leslie. "The pater
showed me the plans and explained the details. Of course, he didn't
tell me the name of his client."
"You'd like to see the definite result of your father's ingenuity?"
asked Ranworth; then, receiving an eager affirmative, he added: "Very
well; come along; but before we go below you might ask Mr. Hawke to
see me."
Leslie and Guy had already made the acquaintance of Aubrey Hawke, the
motor specialist to the expedition. He was a dapper little man of
about thirty. In height he only just came up to Leslie's shoulder,
while he turned the scale at eight stone seven pounds. He had gained
considerable fame as an aviator, but owing to an accident he had
reluctantly been compelled to give up flying.
Surviving a fall from an aeroplane which would have ended fatally in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, Aubrey Hawke's vitality carried
him through a long illness.
One result of the accident was that he was a victim to nervousness,
but studiously concealing that failing, he had accepted a post with
the Nova Cania rescue expedition in the hope that he might even yet
recover his lost nerves.
"I've just discovered an assistant for you, Mr. Hawke," said
Ranworth, indicating Leslie. "He's rather keen, I believe, upon
electrical matters."
"So I understand," replied Hawke. "We've had one or two confidential
chats already."
The motor-sleigh was securely stowed in the main hold, which, like
the rest of the interior of the _Polarity_, was electrically lighted.
It was quite unlike the general type of sleigh. It reminded Guy of an
engine on the Underground Railway, for outwardly it consisted of a
double-ended contrivance, twenty-five feet in length and seven in
breadth, with sloping sides and a curved roof.
Round, brass-rimmed scuttles, fitted with thick plate glass, afforded
an outlook on all sides, while fore and aft were searchlight
projectors, protected from possible damage by massive gunmetal
guards.
Above the roof were three metal brackets, forming bearings for a
horizontal shaft, which was actuated by a chain driven with the
motors. For the present the two aerial propellers were unshipped, in
order to be safe from damage caused by the motion of the ship in a
heavy sea-way.
The sleigh was intended primarily for use on smooth ice, being
designed for a speed of forty miles an hour under the action of the
aerial propellers. But since smooth ice is the exception rather than
the rule within the Arctic circle, provision had to be made for
travelling over rough ground, and possibly open water.
To meet the former case, the motor-sleigh was fitted with four broad
wheels. Each fore and aft pair was connected by means of an endless
band of phosphor-bronze links, while on the actual face of the chain
were affixed broad plates of studded steel, after the manner of Army
"Decapod" traction engines.
By an ingenious contrivance, the sleigh-runners could be raised at
will, allowing the weight to be taken by the wheels; while, should
the contrivance be compelled to cross the open water, the body was
made boat-shaped and watertight, a subsidiary driving-chain for the
aerial propeller shafting actuating a marine propeller astern.
"Show the way in, Leslie!" exclaimed Ranworth, wishing to put the
lad's knowledge to a test. Making his way to the rearmost scuttle on
the righthand side, the youth deftly unscrewed the metal rim from its
flange. Then, inserting his arm through the opening, his hand came in
contact with a lever. This he depressed, with the result that a part
of the wall swung open, revealing a doorway of about four feet in
height and two in breadth. So well fitted was the door that at a very
short distance off it was not possible to detect the seams.
"Good man, Leslie!" exclaimed Ranworth, approvingly. "Now, Guy, in
you go; there's plenty of room inside for all."
The interior was lined with wood, a space of four inches separating
the inner lining from the outer metal shell. The intervening space
was packed with a patent fibre in order to render it so far as
possible impervious to the intense cold of the Polar regions. Even
the plate glass in the scuttles was duplicated.
Two-thirds of the interior space was devoted to accommodation for
passengers and "crew." Aft was the motor-room with its reserve
storage batteries, and a bewildering complication of switches and
levers.
"We carry a sufficient charge to run continuously for eight days,"
announced Aubrey Hawke. "If we are longer, then it will be a case of
get out and walk, since the sleigh is a little too heavy to push."
"I wonder you didn't have a petrol motor," remarked Guy. "There's
room to carry gallons of fuel."
"No, thank you; not for Arctic work," objected Ranworth. "The intense
cold does not agree with petrol motors. My brother took an aeroplane
with him, but I heard that it was not a success. I had no details,
but I should imagine that, apart from engine troubles, an aeroplane
within the Arctic circle is at the mercy of the frequent snowstorms.
It wouldn't take long for half a ton of snow to accumulate upon the
planes, you know. Now I'll leave you two fellows to Hawke's tender
mercies. He'll put you up to the practical side of the contrivance,
Leslie. Guy can tail on and make himself generally useful. Unless I'm
much mistaken, he'll come in jolly handy after all--not necessarily
to cook a meal for twenty men," he added with a chuckle.