Through the Air to the North Pole Part 31

He hit another of the brutes over the skull with some of the frozen stuff, and Washington, whose courage had returned, did likewise. Tom and Bill disabled the two dogs nearest them.

Mark aimed at once fierce beast, but missed his shot, and, slipping on the ice, fell right in the animal's path. In an instant the brute was upon him.

"Lie on your back and cover your head with your arms!" shouted Andy, as he ran toward the animal. Mark did as he was told. The dog endeavored to bite him, but the stout furs on his back prevented much damage being done. Then, having secured a large chunk of ice, Andy ran up behind the beast and stretched it out with a well-directed blow. Mark was saved, and scrambled to his feet uninjured.

Suddenly there sounded a series of sharp reports as if a rifle was being discharged. The refugees looked up, expecting to see some armed force coming to their aid. Instead, they beheld the Esquimaux driver approaching on the run. He was swinging his long-lashed whip, which he had secured from the crack in the ice where he had stuck it, and was snapping it vigorously.

At the same time he called in his native language to the dogs to lie down. The brutes heard the cracking of the cruel thong, whose force they knew but too well, and they recognized their master's voice. On came the Esquimaux, until, reaching the pack of dogs, he laid about among them with good will, the blows of the whip bringing blood.

Sticking their tails between their legs, the remaining dogs ran away with frightened yelps. The driver had come in the nick of time.

"That was quite a fright!" panted Andy, when the excitement was at an end. "My, but those were fierce brutes!"

While the dogs that were left alive among the pack, including several wounded ones, withdrew to a far end of the ice floe, the adventurers crawled back under the tent for a much-needed rest. The Esquimaux, with a silence worthy of an American Indian, took up his position in the small doorway.

It was growing much colder, and the big chunk of ice that served the refugees as a raft was moving quite rapidly over a choppy sea.

It was several hours later that the Esquimaux with a loud cry attracted all the others to the tent opening. He pointed ahead.

"I believe we're drifting back to sh.o.r.e!" shouted Andy.

CHAPTER XXVII

BACK TO THE SHIP

With anxious eyes the adventurers crawled out on the floe and gazed ahead. Across the black stretch of water could be seen a dim whiteness.

It looked like the main ice pack, but they realized that it might be only another floe or berg. The current was setting strong in the direction of it.

"We will soon learn our fate," said the professor. "We should be up to it in an hour."

In less time than that they were near enough to the white ma.s.s to tell that it was no floe or berg, but the main field of ice, part of that from which they had been separated.

"I don't know as we'll be much better off when we get there," said Andy.

"There are not dogs enough left to draw the sled, and if we have to walk back to where the airship is, providing this Esquimaux can find it, we'll freeze."

"Let us wait until we get to sh.o.r.e before we begin to find new trouble,"

counseled the professor.

In a little while the floating floe b.u.mped up against the main ice field with a grinding and crashing. No sooner had it touched than the dogs scampered off, and were soon lost to sight. The Esquimaux did not seem to worry much over their disappearance. He coolly righted the sled, having first demolished the temporary tent, and proceeded, unaided, to haul the vehicle ash.o.r.e.

"Give him a hand, Washington," said the professor. "He is our friend, and rendered us good service. We must help him."

Then, while Washington and the native dragged the sled, the others followed afoot, and in a short time were safe on the main ice.

"Now, the question is," said the inventor, "can our guide take us to the ship?"

But the Esquimaux guide seemed to be in no dilemma. He gave one look about, after reaching the main sh.o.r.e, and then, with Washington helping him pull the sled, started off across the ice.

It was no easy path for the adventurers to follow. There were little hills and hollows, many rough and few smooth places. Their feet were weary before they had gone two miles. But the native did not seem to tire.

"I declare to goodness I'se dat kerfl.u.s.teredcated dat I can't extradition myself forward in dis line ob progression de leastest moment longer!" exclaimed Washington at length, coming to a halt. "I'se prognosticated in de lower extremities!"

"I suppose he means he's too tired to go any further and his legs ache,"

translated Professor Henderson. "Well, he takes a lot of words, but I guess his condition is about like that of all of us. I'm tired too."

One after another all admitted that they felt the need of rest. At the professor's direction they came to a halt under the shelter of an ice hill, that kept off some of the wind. Here they made some sort of a meal of the condensed food.

This served to render their fatigue a little less, and, after an hour's rest, they started off again. There did not seem to be much need of dragging along the sled, which was useless without dogs to pull it, but the vehicles are scarce and hard to make, so, doubtless, the Esquimaux did not want to desert his property.

Mile after mile the refugees traversed. It was hard work and walking over the humpy ice was quite different from anything the adventurers were used to, and their feet ached very much. But they knew their only safety was in keeping on.

The cold was terrible. They had no instruments for telling how low the mercury might be, but the professor ventured a guess that it was at seventy degrees below zero. The wind, too, sprang up, and adding to the unpleasant situation the sky was overcast with heavy clouds that threatened a snow storm.

That would mean a calamity which might bring to an untimely end the brave men and boys who had dared so much in the search for the north pole. A blinding fall of the white flakes would result in the guide losing his way, and they might all perish. So they hurried on, anxious to get to the _Monarch_, if they were lucky enough to find her.

There was no use asking the guide any questions or trying to learn how much farther they had to go. Professor Henderson tried to learn from him if the journey would last much longer, but the Esquimaux only shook his head, pointed in advance, and uttered but one word:

"Ship!"

They kept on for several hours more. Their pace was slow, for all of the adventurers, men and boys, were foot-sore and weary. The guide, however, did not seem to mind it. Tom and Bill took turns relieving Washington at helping pull the sled.

At last the party came to a long hill of ice. It was the hardest kind of going to climb to the top, but the Esquimaux inspired hope in all their hearts by showing signs of excitement, while he exclaimed rapidly:

"Ship! Ship! Ship!"

Up the long slope they toiled, almost ready to drop at every step.

Finally they gained the top. The guide was in the lead. As he got to the summit he pointed down and gave a joyful cry.

Andy, weary as he was, hurried to his side. He gazed long and steadfastly in the direction the Esquimaux pointed.

"It's the _Monarch_ sure enough!" cried the old hunter. "I can make out the yellow gas bag against the snow bank! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" yelled Jack, Mark, Bill, Washington and Tom. Even Professor Henderson joined in, and the Esquimaux added his voice in a queer sort of native cheer that made all of the others smile.

"Now if we could only fly to her we'd be all right," exclaimed Mark.

The guide was busy overhauling the sled. He tightened some of the retaining thongs that had become loosened, and then, with guttural cries, he pointed to the vehicle, to the different members of the party and to the long slope that lay before them, and which led down almost to the abandoned airship.

"I believe he means for us to coast down the hill on the sled!" cried Andy. "That's a good scheme. It will beat walking all to pieces!"

Down, down, down the adventurers went, like an arrow shot from a stout bow. The bone runners of the sled glided over the frozen surface, which was as slippery as gla.s.s.

The speed was very swift and the wind caused by the rapid pa.s.sage cut in their faces so that all had to pull their fur hoods over their heads.

The ice, sc.r.a.ped up by the runners, flew in a shower on either side.