Lost in the Air Part 14

Silently the great creature sank, but this time the foaming water showed a fleck of red where the walrus disappeared.

"Got him!" cried Bruce triumphantly.

But this time the strain on the lance was redoubled.

"Try--try to hit a vital--vital spot," panted Barney, as the strain lessened once more. "Behind front flipper--in the eye."

Again the water foamed. Again the rifle cracked. More blood! Another plunge, and again the strain seemed redoubled.

"I--can't--hold much--longer," Barney gasped.

Springing down from the pinnacle, Bruce ran to the edge of the pool, and, leaping upon a floating ice-cake, waited again.

This time his aim was better.

The strain when the walrus sank was not so great.

"Doing fine," breathed Barney. "Next time we'll--"

Again he did not finish, for, unexpectedly, his friend shot up in the air, to fall sprawling upon the cake of ice and cling there while it tilted to an angle of forty-five degrees. The walrus had risen beneath the cake and split it in two. Bruce was stunned by his fall, but Barney's warning cry roused him. One glance revealed his perilous position. The piece of ice to which he clung had been thrust toward the center of the pool. Even now the gap was too wide for him to leap. To plunge into the water, with the thermometer forty below, was to court death.

While he hesitated, the walrus rose to the surface. With a bellow that sprayed b.l.o.o.d.y foam about him, he charged the cake of ice. If ever there was need for a cool brain, it was now. Bruce, gripping his rifle, crouched and waited. Reaching the cake, the walrus hooked his tusks over its edge till it tilted to a perilous angle. Bruce's feet shot from under him, but by a quick movement he caught the upper edge of the ice.

Pulling himself up till he could brace his feet, he took steady aim at the beast's wild and bloodshot eye. It was a perfect shot. The walrus, crumpling, began to sink into the water. Seeing this, Bruce clung to the cake until the tusk slipped off. In another moment the uncertain raft was at rest.

"Well, we got him," he panted, sitting limply on the ice. "But for mine in the future, give me the cozy dangers of aviation. I don't see much relaxation in this game."

The ice-cake soon drifted so that Bruce could jump ash.o.r.e. With their combined efforts the boys were able to draw the dead walrus close in and tie him securely to the ice edge. Then they returned to camp to send a happy band of natives out for the meat and blubber.

"That head will make a fine trophy to hang in the front parlor of that five-room bungalow," laughed Barney, as a native brought it in that night.

"You may have it for your den," said Bruce with a shiver. "I never want to look a walrus in the face again."

"To-morrow," said the Major, as they prepared to retire, "the race will be resumed."

CHAPTER IX

FIGHTING THEIR WAY OUT

A careful examination of their "ivory jail" showed Dave and the submarine engineer that they were in a narrow chamber completely lined with walrus tusks. The tusks had been so ingeniously cut and fitted that only the grain of the glistening surface told where one tusk joined another. As for the door, so closely was it fitted that it was not to be located at all. In two corners were seal-oil lamps. These had feed-pipes of some form of dried sea-weeds. They could thus be fed from without. Two narrow openings, strongly barred with ivory tusks, one in the floor and one in the ceiling, permitted air to enter, but one peered through them into utter darkness.

"Tain't no wonder they left us our knives," grumbled Jarvis. "The bloomin' 'eathen knowed we'd wear 'em away before we made any h'impression on that ivory. But mind you, lad, this hain't the work of no bloomin' 'eathen--not no regular 'eathen it hain't. 'E hain't smart enough for that, your regular 'eathen hain't. 'Twas some one else, it was. Shouldn't be surprised if it was them three strangers."

As for Dave, he was worried less about himself than about his companions out in the bay. Knowing the growing impatience of the Doctor, he was prepared to expect him to attempt anything in case of their prolonged absence. Should he try to submerge the craft to bring her to land under the ice, it was an even chance every one on board would perish miserably--caught in the sunken "sub."

That he and Jarvis might be kept prisoners indefinitely seemed certain, for after some five or six hours, food was thrust in to them and they were left, apparently for the night. The food consisted of boiled fish and liver, probably walrus liver, soaked in rank seal oil. They ate a little fish and thrust the liver through the opening in the floor, the better to escape its nauseating odor.

"H'I'd die before h'I'd h'eat 'is bloomin' victuals," snarled Jarvis contemptuously, "that bloomin' 'eathen!"

He began poking about the narrow confines of the jail. Not being able to see to suit himself, he struck a match and touched it to the ma.s.s, placed on the edge of a br.i.m.m.i.n.g seal-oil lamp, in lieu of a wick. Immediately a line of fire was kindled and its light, reflected again and again by the dazzling whiteness of their prison walls, made the whole place as light as day. At once Jarvis gave a cry of surprise and began crawling toward the farthest side.

"H'I told you there was minerals," he exclaimed. "E's a rich un, this bloomin' 'eathen. H'it's gold, h'I'll be blowed!"

He began digging away with his knife at some yellow spots in the ivory.

They were bits of inlaid gold.

"What's the idea?" asked Dave in surprise. "Are all prisons up here made of ivory inlaid with gold?"

"Y' can't tell, lad. 'E's a queer one, the bloomin' 'eathen, and if h'I be 'anged," sputtered Jarvis, "what's one pole more or less, when you've gold calling to come and take it. What--"

He paused, his mouth agape, words unsaid. The door of the ivory den had been softly opened, and framed in it were the dark, crafty faces of the three natives who had brought about their captivity and imprisonment. In their hands gleamed knives with long blades of a curious oriental type.

But we must return to the Doctor and his crew of gobs who had been left on the submarine.

When the young captain and his chief engineer did not return at sunset, deep concern for their safety was felt. Three searching parties were sent out, while, from time to time, flares were lighted to show them the way to the submarine, should they chance to have lost their directions on the ice-floe. The flares guided the searching parties back to the boat, but so far as finding trace of the missing ones was concerned, neither flares nor searchers were of any avail.

In the meantime, the Doctor paced the deck anxiously. They were losing valuable time. If only they could find a way to sh.o.r.e, the damaged shaft might be repaired and, during the interval, the captain and engineer would doubtless turn up.

At the first hint of dawn the watch discovered a lead half-way through the ice-floe. At once the Doctor ordered the submarine run into this narrow channel. The result was what might have been expected; the ice closed in and the "sub" was locked in the center of the floe. There remained but one way it could move--down, under the ice. Otherwise, it might drift indefinitely in this solid ma.s.s of ice. They would be carried away from the bay, away from their friends, and all hope of rescuing them would be lost. It was, indeed, a terrible plight.

Just at this time a bright young gob, Tom Rainey, came forward with an ingenious scheme. The "sub" carried a sufficient length of steel cable to reach to the farther edge of the ice-floe. Why, he reasoned, might they not pole this cable beneath the rather loosely-joined ice ma.s.ses until they reached the open water, then submerge the submarine and, with a capstan, drag it like a hooked trout to the channel. It was a wild scheme, but the doctor was in a mood for anything. The crew were set to work at once, cutting holes in the ice-floes here and there and pa.s.sing the cable from opening to opening. It was slow and freezing work, but in time the job was done.

When the cable was ready, the Doctor insisted that a sufficient crew be aboard the submarine when she submerged to man her in case she broke loose. This was, indeed, a hazardous mission, but volunteers were not lacking. And, with all speed, the trial was made.

The scheme worked better than they had dared to hope. When the "sub"

pa.s.sed from beneath the ice-floe, the second engineer in his superabundance of joy hazarded a few turns of the disabled shaft.

This set the whole craft vibrating and drove her half-way across the narrow channel.

As the submarine rose to the surface the doctor saw a dark shadow pa.s.s over the gla.s.s window at the top. At the same time he felt a slight jar.

"Must have tilted a small cake of ice," he chuckled.

Then, as he lifted the hatch: "By Jove! No, it wasn't. It was a skin-boat full of natives! There they are in the water! Watch them scramble back into their boat. If we had a safer power, we'd go to their rescue. But they'll be all right. Now, they're all aboard."

That the natives were in a frenzy of fear while in the water, the doctor attributed to their dread of attack by a walrus. But when they began paddling away at top speed, he opened his eyes in wonder.

"Ah, well!" he said, at last, "who'd marvel at that? Ships are not in the habit of coming up out of the sea in the Arctic. And now I wonder--I just wonder, did they have anything to do with the disappearance of our friend Dave and the engineer?"

When all hands were on board lunch was served. By the time this was over the submarine had drifted to the solid sh.o.r.e-ice. She was at once tied up with the aid of ice-anchors, and preparations made for dragging her out of the water.

"But first," said the Doctor, "let us visit our friends, 'the bloomin'

'eathen,' as Jarvis styles them."

It was a strange sight that met their gaze as they entered the village.