GUY IN COMMAND
"How is Mr. Ranworth?" asked Leslie, as the rescued crew of the
airship were in the act of entering the huge sleigh--a contrivance
which they viewed with ill-concealed interest and admiration.
"Jolly rotten!" replied Guy. "The fall must have caused more injuries
than we at first supposed. I managed to persuade him to turn in, and
now he can't move his arms. The muscles of his back and chest are
badly strained."
"Let's hope he hasn't sustained internal injuries," said Leslie.
"Luckily one of the Russians is a doctor. He'll have a look at him."
While Leslie and Guy got the _Bird of Freedom_ "under way," the
Russian doctor made a careful examination of the injured man. He was
able to pronounce that, to the best of his belief, Ranworth had
sustained no internal injuries, but that the sudden jerk of the rope
had badly bruised his flesh and had strained his muscles. Absolute
rest was essential to recovery, and under favourable conditions the
patient ought to be fit within a week.
With little delay the _Bird of Freedom_ returned to Observation Camp.
During her absence, O'Donovan had worked wonders with the men left
under his charge. Two good meals and a liberal dose of lime juice had
effectually checked the tendency towards scurvy in those members of
the expedition who had not already been attacked by the distressing
malady; while the others were progressing favourably under the Irish
seaman's treatment.
The total of the party at Observation Camp now amounted to
twenty--four of the crew of the _Bird of Freedom_, seven of the
Claude Ranworth Expedition, and nine Russians; and since the sleigh
could only accommodate sixteen, the question of a double journey to
Desolation Inlet had to be seriously discussed.
Eventually it was decided that the two Ranworths, four Englishmen,
and five Russians should be the first total of passengers, Leslie and
Guy being in charge of the sleigh. O'Donovan was to remain with the
rest of the two expeditions until the _Bird of Freedom_, with an
augmented crew, returned to Observation Camp. The stores taken from
the sleigh were more than sufficient for a week, and since, with
ordinary luck, the double journey ought not to take more than three
days, there need be no anxiety on the score of hunger.
Just as the _Bird of Freedom_ was about to start, an animated
discussion took place between Petrovitch and his fellow countrymen.
After a while, the former explained to Leslie and Guy the meaning of
the argument. It appeared to the lads a very simple matter, but the
Russians took it quite seriously; they had just made the discovery
that the complement of the _Bird of Freedom_ totalled the unlucky
number of thirteen.
"I suppose we must pander to the superstitious sentiment of our
Russian friends," remarked Guy. "We'll either have to take an extra
man or else leave one behind."
"Then we'll leave one behind," decided Leslie. "After all, it will
make a fairer distribution of the load, and, honestly, I'm rather
doubtful about the reserve of electricity in the accumulators. The
needle of the volt-meter is pretty close to the working limit, and
the less weight we have to take, especially on the up-grade, so much
the better for us. I'll tell Petrovitch to drop one of his chums."
This arrangement the Russians accepted without demur. Once on board
the _Bird of Freedom_, they recognised the fact that Guy, although a
stripling, was acting skipper, and loyally they carried out whatever
orders he gave through the medium of the gigantic and good-natured
Petrovitch.
"The cabin looks like a Red Cross ambulance van," declared Guy,
glancing at the half-dozen patients lying either on the bunks or on
the floor. "You'll have to go slowly, old man, when we get to the
rough ice, or they'll have an awful time. I'm afraid Mr. Ranworth's
out of the running for the rest of the trip."
"Eh, what's that?" demanded Ranworth, who had overheard the
conversation. "Out of the running? Not much, my lads. I mean to see
this business through, and I'll be at the helm when we start again
for Observation Camp, or my name's not John Ranworth."
"I hope so, too," said Leslie.
"Not that I doubt your qualifications, my lads," Ranworth hastened to
add, "but this is my show, you know. However, carry on. I'll say
this: I've patted myself on the back many times when I remember what
you two fellows have done for me. It was a lucky accident that
brought you on board the _Polarity_."
Almost without incident, the _Bird of Freedom_ arrived at the defile
where on the outward journey the mammoth had been found. It was now
almost covered with snow and debris, for a fresh fall had occurred.
Only the head and the gigantic tusks were visible.
"We must not stop," declared Ranworth when Guy reported the
circumstance. "Next time, perhaps. I am really most anxious to secure
that mass of ivory, but I don't think there will be another landslide
before we pass this way again."
At length the critical test of the journey became imminent: the
passage over the glacier.
Leslie took the precaution of disconnecting the aerial propellers,
and bringing the decapod wheels into action. Extreme caution was
necessary, since the grade was all downwards, and the ice, except
where it was impeded by boulders, smooth and very slippery.
In addition, a strong northerly breeze was piping up, and since the
body of the sleigh offered considerable resistance to the wind, there
was a danger of the _Bird of Freedom_ getting out of control had she
rested entirely on her runners.
Presently Guy gave the word to switch off the current, and, applying
the locking brake to the wheels, brought the _Bird of Freedom_ to a
standstill.
A hundred yards ahead lay the open waters of Desolation Inlet, but
between lay the rough ice left by the violent disruption of the
seaward end of the glacier.
"We'll see what it is like before we start any steeplechasing with
the sleigh," declared Guy. "I'll get Petrovitch to give a hand, for
it won't be safe to approach the edge unless we are roped together."
"It looks an awfully nasty bit to tackle," remarked Leslie, as the
two, connected by twenty feet of rope, stood as near as prudence
dictated to the edge of the glacier. "There's something of an incline
away on the right. It will mean a leap of five or six feet to gain
the surface of the sea, but there seems to be a good 'takeoff.'"
"That's the place," decided his chum. "At the same time, I hardly
like the idea of taking the sleigh over the edge with a cargo of sick
and injured men."
"I quite agree with you," replied Leslie. "But what is the
alternative?"
"Attract the _Polarity's_ attention, and get them to send boats. We
can easily let the men down by means of ropes."
"Very good; we'll mention it to Mr. Ranworth," said Leslie.
The Russian, too, readily fell in with the suggestion. His faith in
the _Bird of Freedom_ as a species of high diver was far from firm.
The idea of a heavy mass of wood and machinery, with a full
complement of men, being hurled bodily over the edge of the glacier,
even though the vertical distance were but five or six feet, did not
seem particularly inviting.
But when the matter was broached to the injured leader of the
expedition, Ranworth was obdurate.
"She'll do it right enough," he declared optimistically. "It may
shake us all up a bit, I'll admit, but it can't be helped."
"The _Bird of Freedom_ will have to get back to the summit of the
glacier," Guy reminded him.
"Undoubtedly. She's tackled worse obstacles than that," replied
Ranworth. "Besides, you must run alongside the _Polarity_ to get the
accumulators recharged. You must have forgotten that."
"Dash it all, sir, I did!" admitted the lad.
"Very well, carry on. Remember our promise to return to Observation
Camp with the least possible delay."
"How do you propose to make the leap, sir?" asked Leslie. "Let her go
full pelt under the action of the aerial propellers and alight on a
fairly even keel; or let her go slowly and make a nose-ended dive?"
[Illustration: With a terrific crash the _Bird of Freedom_ toppled
completely over.
To face page 151.]
"Slowly," decided Ranworth. "Before her centre of gravity is over the
brink of the ice her bows will be almost water-borne."
"Very good, sir!" said Leslie. And, a warning being given for all
hands to Be Prepared for a slight shock, the _Bird of Freedom's_
motors were set in motion.
For nearly two hundred feet she kept a course almost parallel with
the end of the glacier; then, turning abruptly, she headed towards
the shelving ice which the lads had selected as the best place for
taking the water.
Suddenly the ice creaked and cracked ominously. There was no going
back. The momentum of the sleigh was too great to allow its onward
course to be checked.
The next instant, instead of descending an easy gradient, the _Bird
of Freedom_ was tilting sideways at an alarming angle. She had gained
a large floe which had just become detached from the main portion of
the glacier, and that floe was bodily capsizing.
The decapod wheels gripped the ice, until the angle of the smooth
face of the floe became too acute. With a horrible, sickening
movement, the sleigh began to slide sideways. It reminded Guy of a
motor car skidding on a slippery road.
Leslie had the presence of mind to cut off the electric current. More
he could not do. He braced himself for the impending catastrophe, for
the _Bird of Freedom_ was in imminent danger either of being thrown
bodily against the hard face of an ice cliff or of being crushed by
the overturning of the enormous floe.
He was dimly aware that the angle formed by the floor and one side of
the cabin was filled with a crowd of struggling men, thrown thither
like sheep by the extreme list of the sleigh; then, with a terrific
crash, the _Bird of Freedom_ toppled completely over.
A cascade of icy water poured in through a jagged gap in the roof,
which was now undermost. Then, like a cork, the _Bird of Freedom_
righted herself, and tossed violently on the surface of the agitated
sea, with two feet of water surging along the cabin floor and over
the desperately struggling men.
Leslie, who had gripped one of the guard rails surrounding the
motors, had performed a remarkable acrobatic feat on the impromptu
horizontal bar, and as the _Bird of Freedom_ resumed her normal
position he found himself lying across the engines, slightly bruised,
but otherwise unhurt.
A quick glance through the nearest scuttle told him that for the
present the water-borne sleigh was out of danger, unless she had
sprung a leak below the water line.
"We're afloat all right!" he shouted.
His words had little or no effect upon the passengers, for those of
the Russians who were not rendered unconscious were shouting as hard
as they could. They were in a state of panic, fully expecting either
to be crushed by the enormous mass of ice or else to be trapped like
rats in the cabin of the foundering sleigh.
John Ranworth might have risen to the occasion and restored order,
but he was lying stunned on the floor. His brother was in a similar
plight, while Guy, pinned down by the body of a huge Russian, was
incapable of moving hand or foot.
The panic, brought about by a fearful climax to a series of
nerve-racking ordeals, was quickly over, and the rescued men began to
sort themselves out from the tangled mass of humanity on the floor.
Thanks to her design and build, the _Bird of Freedom_ had come off
lightly. Beyond a hole in the curved roof, caused by violent contact
with a spur of sharp ice, there was no great damage. Everything not
firmly secured had been thrown about in utter confusion, while most
of the stores and navigating instruments were lying in the water
which flooded the floor.
"All right, Guy?" sang out his chum.
"All right," was the reassuring reply.
"Then stand by with the steering-wheel," continued Leslie. "The
sooner we get alongside the _Polarity_ the better. There's plenty of
work for the ship's surgeon, I guess."
At the first attempt to start the motors, there was a vivid flash,
accompanied by a sharp report. The wet had caused one of the
high-tension wires to fuse, and this had thrown the whole of the
intricate machinery out of order.
"She'll drift all right," declared Guy. "The wind's right down the
channel."
"Yes, broadside on," added his chum. "We can't steer her, and she'll
be drawn ashore at the next bend."
"We'll get her under control yet," said Guy, whose nautical knowledge
was far greater than that of his chum. "Make all hands come aft.
That will raise her snout out of the water, and the wind will blow
her round."
With the exception of Guy, who perforce had to remain at the
steering-wheel, all on board went to the after end of the cabin. Even
the sick and insensible ones were removed by their comrades.
The result was as Guy had foretold. The _Bird of Freedom's_ bows,
caught by the wind, were turned until her stern pointed dead into the
eye of the wind, while the third runner, which also acted as a
rudder, was immersed to such an extent that it obtained a good grip
upon the water.
Scudding before the wind, the _Bird of Freedom_ was quite under
control, rounding the dangerous point without difficulty. At Leslie's
suggestion, three shots were fired through one of the scuttles to
attract the attention of the as yet invisible _Polarity_, for two or
three intervening spurs of cliff hid her from the sleigh.
Presently the ship came into view. Her crew manned the sides and gave
three cheers for the returning sleigh. Seeing her coming "bows on,"
they erroneously concluded that she was under power.
In the lower reaches of the inlet it was now blowing hard. The _Bird
of Freedom_ was scudding at a good twelve miles an hour, without
means of bringing up.
Guy realised that if he approached too closely to the _Polarity_, a
gust might drive the comparatively frail craft against her parent
ship with disastrous results. If, on the other hand, he steered wide,
the _Bird of Freedom_ would drift helplessly to leeward of the
_Polarity_ and be in great danger of being blown into the open sea.
"Hang on to the helm, Leslie!" he exclaimed, and as his chum took his
place at the steering-wheel, Guy snatched a couple of hand-flags from
the locker and hurriedly made his way through the hatchway in the
roof and gained the sloping and unsteady platform without.
The roof was slippery with ice. It was impossible to gain a foothold,
without danger of sliding overboard as the sleigh rolled about
helplessly.
Sitting on the combing, Guy began to signal. An answering call came
from the _Polarity_.
"Not under control," signalled the lad. "Send a boat."
Back came Captain Stormleigh's reply:
"What's wrong with the grapnels? Too rough to lower a boat. Anchor
and veer under our quarter."
"Pity we hadn't thought of that before," thought Guy. "It's blowing
half a gale. We ought to have anchored much farther up the inlet."
Quickly descending from his perch, Guy, with the assistance of those
of the passengers capable of bearing a hand, succeeded in bending the
largest grapnel to a coil of rope. The treble glass plates in the
foremost scuttle were removed, leaving an aperture just sufficient to
admit the passage of the four-barbed anchor.
"Lower away!" ordered Guy. "Check the rope well in time."
The grapnel plunged to the bed of Desolation Inlet, taking with it
the rope, which ran out so swiftly that the gun-metal rims of the
scuttle were quite hot with the friction.
Then, as the rope took the strain, the _Bird of Freedom_ swung round
as if on a pivot, almost capsizing every man on board who had
neglected to obtain a firm grip. This was followed by a sudden jerk,
and the sleigh, riding head to wind, brought up within ten feet of
the starboard side of the _Polarity_.
It was quite near enough to be pleasant, for the ship was pitching
violently, while the _Bird of Freedom_, riding lightly on the
white-crested waves, was at one moment level with the _Polarity's_
bulwarks; at another the ship towered thirty feet or more above the
sleigh.
Now came the question of how to transfer the passengers and crew from
the sleigh to the ship. An active man would have great difficulty in
essaying the task, since it was impossible to get a foothold on the
sloping deck. The sick and injured could not possibly be taken
through the hatchway.
"We'll have to hang on till the wind moderates," declared Leslie. "I
hope the rope will hold."
"It would be as well to get ready the spare grapnel and cable," said
his chum. "It's jolly lucky that Desolation Inlet is practically
tideless, or with the flood tide the _Polarity_ would be barging into
us."
"I'll see how she's lying," said Guy. "I can't stop outside very
long. It's too cold."
Barely had he thrust his head through the hatchway, when he announced
that the _Polarity_ was swinging out her derrick. Captain Stormleigh
was about to attempt the risky expedient of hauling the sleigh bodily
out of the raging sea.