THE DASH FOR OBSERVATION CAMP
"How's Aubrey Hawke?" asked Ranworth, without pausing in the midst of
his preparations.
"Still pretty groggy, sir," replied Travers.
"H'm; it's a pity. I'm afraid, Leslie, I must ask for your assistance
once more."
"Only too pleased, sir," replied the lad, his eyes sparkling with
delight.
"It's hard lines after having your skull well-nigh cracked, to say
nothing of other hardships."
"I hardly feel it," declared Leslie. "But how about Guy? Can he come,
too?"
"If he's quite willing," assented Ranworth. "It's well to have a
second substitute; but, on the other hand, don't press him, I can get
Baker or Long to assist you."
"What do you take me for?" demanded Guy, when, a minute later, Leslie
broached the matter to him. "Where you go I jolly well go, too; so
that settles the matter. It's only a matter of forty-four miles,
isn't it? The _Bird of Freedom_ will do that on her head."
"I would vastly prefer her to do it on her runners," laughingly
rejoined Leslie. "Anyhow, we're to make a start as soon as possible.
Do you know that we are a couple of days out? It's Thursday instead
of Tuesday."
"It might be Monday for all I know," said Guy. "This midnight sun
business has muddled me up entirely--not that I am complaining. I
only hope we won't have to put in a six months' night; that must be
horrible."
Within three hours of the _Bird of Freedom's_ arrival at Desolation
Inlet, she set out again for her dash to Observation Camp. This time
Ranworth took only one seaman.
For one reason, there was to be no more sea work; the sleigh's
course--except for the ascent of the inlet--lay across the frozen
plains, snow-clad mountains and treacherous crevasses. For another,
the carrying capacity of the _Bird of Freedom_ was somewhat limited.
It was just possible she could accommodate all the survivors of
Claude Ranworth's party. Failing that, two trips would have to be
made.
The new member of the relief expedition sleigh party was an
Irishman--Mike O'Donovan by name. He was a short, thick-set man, with
a little turned-up nose, a long upper lip and a profusion of shock
hair and bushy side whiskers. He was a thoroughly trustworthy fellow,
although inclined to be impetuous. The ship's company of the
_Polarity_ regretted his departure, from the fact that he was the
life of the fo'c'sle.
For three miles the _Bird of Freedom_ threaded her way up the
tortuous and ever-narrowing creek, until further progress by water
was barred by the abrupt termination of the water-way.
Ahead lay a forbidding-looking defile, enclosed on both sides by tall
cliffs. Through the valley thus formed, a glacier wended its way--a
gigantic river of ice mingled with masses of rock brought down by its
resistless march from the lofty interior of Nova Cania.
The cliffs were curious to behold. For eighty or a hundred feet above
the level of the glacier they were perfectly smooth, having been
polished by the flow of the ice river during countless centuries. No
doubt the size of the glacier was steadily diminishing. Above the
ice-worn portion of the cliffs the granite rocks were rugged and
fantastically shaped.
Cautiously the sleigh approached the end of the glacier. Here the ice
slid gently towards the waters of the inlet. The surmounting of the
glacier would be an easy matter provided the ice would bear, for the
surface, mottled by pieces of rock and small stones, afforded a good
grip to her decapod wheels.
Like a seal dragging itself clear of the water, the _Bird of Freedom_
began the ascent of the glacial river. Under her weight, the ice
creaked ominously.
Quite a hundred feet from the edge, and twenty feet above the sea
level, the sleigh made its way, till its progress was stopped by a
stretch of clear ice terminating at a ridge of large, smooth boulders
extending from side to side of the ravine.
"We want an aeroplane to surmount this lot," observed Guy. "How is it
these stones are found on the surface of the ice instead of at the
bottom?"
Leslie did not know. He appealed to Ranworth.
"In time, by the process known as regelation, the boulders will sink
through the solid ice," he explained. "What has happened fairly
recently is that an avalanche has toppled these stones upon the ice.
See, they have already sunk deeply into it. Nothing short of a
powerful explosion would shift them. Put her on the runners for
crossing this smooth patch, Leslie. We must find the most likely
place to make an attempt to surmount the ridge."
Almost on the extreme right of the ravine, the line of boulders was
lower than elsewhere, averaging four feet above the surrounding ice.
Even four feet of rock seemed to be a formidable obstacle.
Here Ranworth brought the sleigh to a standstill by putting her
keen-edged steel plate which served as a rudder hard over until it
was at right angles to the two main runners.
"Let us see what is beyond before we tackle this business," he said.
Leaving Leslie in charge, the rest of the crew alighted, and, with
considerable difficulty, for the cold seemed to cut through their fur
clothing and make their limbs sluggish and almost devoid of feeling,
surmounted the line of boulders. Beyond was a heap of small stones
which had quite recently slipped from the cliffs above.
"Hurrah!" shouted Ranworth. "These stones are priceless to us. Set to
and throw a lot of them over the ridge. In half an hour we can build
up an incline sufficient to allow the decapods to get a grip."
Ranworth worked his two assistants hard, but he did not spare
himself. Within the specified time a sloping rampart of stones had
been packed against the outside face of the barrier.
Then, having regained the sleigh, Ranworth gave the order for the
decapod wheels to be brought into play.
The inclined plane served its purpose. Crunching over the loose
stones, the _Bird of Freedom_ rolled ponderously up the hitherto
formidable obstruction.
Barely had she traversed ten yards beyond the surmounted obstacle,
when, with an appalling crash, the lower portion of the glacier broke
off and tumbled into the waters of Desolation Inlet. Where the sleigh
had been but a few seconds previously a yawning gulf appeared, while
the huge mass of ice, floundering violently in the agitated water,
moved slowly towards the sea.
The crew of the _Bird of Freedom_ had just witnessed Nature's method
of creating an iceberg. But there was no chance of watching further
developments in the career of the floating mountains of ice.
The portion of the glacier adjacent to the newly-formed abyss was in
a state of unrest. Ominous cracks appeared in all directions,
accompanied by weird noises as the ice rasped and settled over the
uneven ground.
The sleigh, rocking violently, was still in danger of being engulfed,
in addition to the peril of being crushed by continual falls of rock
and ice from the cliffs above; till, after five minutes of acute
suspense, the crew found themselves on the still firm ice towards the
upper part of the glacier.
"My word," ejaculated Leslie, as he turned over the runners in place
of the decapod wheels. "That was thick while it lasted."
"Never mind," remarked Ranworth. "The rock barrier has gone. It won't
trouble us on the return journey, and by that time the ice will have
subsided sufficiently to allow an easy descent of the water. Now,
keep her at it for all she's worth. It seems plain sailing now."
The _Bird of Freedom_ was now clear of the ravine. Ahead, the ground
ascended with comparative regularity. All around the land was covered
with a thick deposit of ice and snow.
Two hours later, Guy, who had relieved Ranworth at the steering
wheel, reported a ridge of hills ahead, pierced by two narrow passes.
"Which one shall I make for, sir?" he asked, Ranworth having rejoined
him.
"I don't think it matters much," was the reply. "Both diverge equally
on either side of our current compass course. Take the right hand one
for choice. Ease her down, Leslie, when we approach the defile. We
don't want to barge into anything if we can help it."
Contrary to Ranworth's expectations, the passage through the line of
hills was a fairly easy one. There were evidences of heavy falls of
snow and débris from the cliffs on either hand, but the centre of
the pass was almost unimpeded.
"What's that, sir?" asked Guy, as the sleigh rounded a gentle curve.
Projecting from a hole in the cliffs, was the largest animal the lad
had ever seen. It resembled an elephant, yet in place of short hair
it was covered with long whitish grey fur. The trunk was extended,
and on either side was a curved tusk fully fifteen feet in length.
"Make straight for it," ordered Ranworth.
Guy obeyed, wondering what his companion intended doing. The sleigh,
strong of build and powerfully engined, was not a fit object with
which to ram a gigantic beast such as this.
"Near enough," directed Ranworth. "It's a pity we can't stop and
examine the thing more closely. There's a fortune in those tusks."
"I thought it was alive, sir," said Guy.
"It was, countless centuries ago," replied Ranworth.
"It's a mammoth, and a unique specimen at that. Evidently this one
has only recently been uncovered by the unusual thawing of the ice.
So far as I could see, it was hardly damaged; no wonder you thought
it was alive. Others have been discovered in Northern Siberia, but
not so well preserved, We must have those tusks if there's time after
we've accomplished our mission. One thing is pretty certain; my
brother's party did not come this way. They made use of the left-hand
pass."
"How do you know that, sir?" asked Guy.
"Because Claude would have discovered the mammoth. He did not,
otherwise he would have sent a wireless report of the great discovery
to the Royal Society."
"Unless," Guy ventured to remark, "the mammoth has only appeared
since your brother's expedition passed."
Before Ranworth could reply, for a difficult piece of ground required
careful handling of the steering gear, a dark object rising clearly
above the waste of snow attracted his attention. It was a tent made
of skins with the fur still adhering to them.
Ordering the motor to be stopped, Ranworth put the balance rudder
hard over. For quite ten yards the hard steel ground itself edgewise
over the ice before the sleigh came to a standstill. All hands
alighted and hurried towards the solitary evidence of human
occupation.
Ranworth untied the carefully secured double flaps and entered the
tent.
It was deserted, and contained only a pile of fur rugs, neatly folded
and corded, and a tin box conspicuously labelled:
"_For emergency use only_. R.P.E."
"That's part of my brother's equipment," said Ranworth. "The initials
signifying 'Ranworth Polar Expedition' prove that. What else do you
deduce from the evidence before us, Leslie?"
"That the expedition came this way, and not by the left-hand pass;
that they were in no great hurry, and lastly that the mammoth we have
just seen was not exposed to view."
"I don't see how you can state that they were in no great hurry,"
expostulated Guy, "although I agree with you on the other points."
"Well, the tent was pitched carefully, the spare stores and furs
deliberately placed in position, and the flaps properly lashed. Men,
famished and in an exhausted condition, would not, and could not
pitch a tent in that way. It evidently points to the fact that Mr.
Ranworth's brother had planned his line of retreat from Observation
Camp and had placed tents in readiness at certain intervals."
"I quite agree," added Ranworth. "So we are bound to fall in with the
remnants of the expedition, should they decide through shortage of
provisions to make a desperate dash for Desolation Inlet."
Upon returning to the _Bird of Freedom_, the rescue party resumed
their journey. For another five miles the pass extended, the valley
gradually opening out into a vast, rolling plain, glistening white
with frozen snow.
"We must take precautions against snow-blindness," observed Ranworth,
and, visiting every scuttle in turn, he drew a sliding pane of tinted
glass across the various outlooks.
The sleigh was travelling well now, for the frozen ground made good
going. Leaving a cloud of powdered snow in her wake, like the dust
from a swiftly-travelling motor-car on a dry, chalky road, she was
averaging forty miles an hour.
"Hardly any need for compass work now," remarked Ranworth, as pole
after pole, set at intervals of about a mile, flashed by. "Here are
our finger posts. Do you know what they are?"
The lads shook their heads. At first they had failed to notice the
slender, wand-like objects away on their right, but as the track of
the sleigh and that of the poles gradually converged, they could not
help seeing the solitary landmarks.
"Skis," explained Ranworth. "It proves pretty conclusively that the
party found the ordinary Canadian pattern of snow-shoes more
satisfactory. They took plenty of both, I know; so they utilised the
skis for landmarks to guide them on their return journey. Another
half an hour ought to bring us within sight of Observation Camp.
Steady, Leslie," exclaimed Ranworth a few minutes later. "We're
approaching another difficult patch. Ease her down a bit and stand by
to put her on the decapods."
The warning was necessary, for the _Bird of Freedom_ was about to
cross the track of a former glacier.
Centuries previously, a river of ice wended its slow journey to the
sea; but, possibly owing to a volcanic disturbance, the path of the
glacier was diverted in a different direction. The "scour" could be
seen clearly, while the bed was encumbered with boulders of all
sizes, deposited there with the melting of the cut-off portion of the
glacier.
Fortunately the irregularities between the various sized stones had
been partly filled up with frozen snow, so that, by use of her
decapod wheels, the _Bird of Freedom_ could surmount the rough ground
with but little difficulty.
On the far side, a ridge of gaunt rocks had to be avoided,
necessitating a detour of nearly a quarter of a mile.
This done, Leslie was about to transfer the power to the twin aerial
propellers, when Guy exclaimed:
"Look! There's a snow-squall bearing down ahead."
Even as the approach of a squall at sea can be detected by the
peculiar ruffling of the water, so was the approach of the snowstorm
marked by a darkening of the glistening expanse of white; while, like
a deep-greyish, ill-defined cloud, the forefront of the blizzard
whirled rapidly upon the _Bird of Freedom_.
Well it was that the sleigh had a firm grip by means of the decapod
wheels. Had she been supported solely by her runners, there was a
great possibility of her being swept at a breakneck speed before the
well-nigh irresistible gusts.
The whole fabric of the sleigh quivered as the snow-squall struck it.
In less than ten seconds the observation scuttles exposed to the
direct force of the wind were completely obscured with snow.
"She's holding," announced Ranworth cheerfully. "But there's no
moving until the blizzard is over. It's much too thick to last long."
His surmise was correct, for almost as suddenly as it had begun, the
stinging torrent of snow ceased, and once more the watery sun shone
in the misty sky.
"We'll have to wait until the snow freezes before we can use the
runners," said Ranworth. "Meanwhile, we must do the best we can with
the decapod wheels. I'll go outside and clear the snow from the
scuttle."
As soon as Ranworth returned after completing his task, Leslie
started the motors, and applied the friction band which transmitted
power to the broad-flanged wheels. Instead of "taking up the load,"
the motors stopped abruptly.
"Bother it! What's up now?" asked Ranworth, in a mild panic; for,
much as he prized Leslie's services as an engineer, he had his doubts
whether the lad would be able to tackle a serious breakdown.
Throwing out the clutch, Leslie restarted the engines. They ran
without a hitch, but the moment the clutch was thrown in they stopped
as suddenly as before.
"It's not the fault of the motors, sir," reported Leslie. "I should
think that something jammed outside."
"It's frozen snow," declared Ranworth, after the crew had alighted.
"The cogs are literally stuffed up. Get a crowbar, Guy, and try to
shift the accumulation. And, O'Donovan, bring a couple of spades with
you and cut away some of the drift in front of us. We couldn't be in
a worse place for starting, although it protected us from the full
fury of the storm."
The effect of the wind upon the fallen snow was most remarkable. As
far as the eye could reach, the aspect resembled a frozen sea, the
snow being piled up in long undulations, like the Atlantic rollers
suddenly petrified. One of these snow waves had accumulated in front
of the _Bird of Freedom_. Even the decapod wheels would fail to find
support upon the soft, slanting bank of snow. Ranworth and O'Donovan
set to work to cut a passage through the obstruction.
"I'll bear a hand, too," volunteered Leslie, and, returning to the
sleigh for another spade, he surmounted the mound of snow and
vigorously began to attack the barrier.
"It's snowing again," declared Guy, as a few flakes drifted past.
"And the wind has changed," added Ranworth. "It's coming from almost
due south."
"So much the better for us--until we start on the return journey,"
declared Leslie. "If we----"
He paused abruptly, and pointed in the direction of the still
invisible Observation Camp. Trudging laboriously through the snow
were two men.