CHAPTER XXVII.
THE FATE OF THE DIRIGIBLE.
"Have you any idea what time the explosion will take place?" asked
Harry, anxiously, almost dumbfounded by the other's cool manner.
"Soon after dark has fallen. Don't be scared, it won't hurt us; at least I think not, but in the confusion that is certain to follow we must make a dash for the Golden Eagle."
"It's a desperate chance."
"We are in a desperate fix," was the brief reply.
An hour later something occurred which caused Frank, who had in the meantime communicated his plan to the others, considerable anxiety. The despoilers of the adventurers' treasure hoard returned to the ship laden down with bar gold and ivory and, from what the captain was saying to his minor officers, it seemed, though he spoke in a low tone, that it was planned to sail right off back to the camp of the men the boys had now come justifiably to regard as their enemies.
"If they do that, we are lost," said Frank, after he had whispered his fears to Harry.
"You mean they will discover the trick we have played on them?"
"No, I mean that the explosion will come off in midair and we shall all be dashed to death together."
"Phew!—Would it not be better to tell them what we have done and take our chances?"
"If the worst comes to the worst I shall do that. It would be imperiling our lives uselessly to go aloft with the overheated gas that is now in the bag."
But the "worst did not come to the worst." The little captain who had paid small or no attention to his prisoners, evidently realizing that they could not get away, didn't like the look of the weather, it seemed, and made frequent consultations of the barometer with his fellows. The glass was falling fast and there was evidently a blizzard or sharp storm of some kind approaching.
At this time a fresh fear crossed Frank's mind. What if the Japs had destroyed the Golden Eagle? So far as he could judge they had not molested her, evidently not thinking it worth while to waste time they judged better spent on looting the Viking ship of its treasure. But if they had disabled her, the boy knew that in the event of his companions escaping they faced an alternative between death by freezing and starvation, or being shot down by the rifles of their captors. However, Frank resolved to put such gloomy speculations out of his mind. It was useless to worry. Things, if they were as he half feared, would not mend for thinking about them.
Supper, a well-cooked, well-served meal, was eaten under this painful strain. The boys and the professor put the best countenance they could on things, considering that their minds were riveted on the great gasbag above them which even now, as they knew, was swollen almost to bursting point with its superheated gases.
"It is too bad that the weather threatens so," remarked their captor, who was politeness itself, to his prisoners; "otherwise we should now be in the air on our way back to my camp. In three more trips we shall be able, however, to carry off the rest of the treasure. We were well repaid for keeping our eyes on you."
The boys answered something, they hardly knew what. Frank in his nervousness looked at his watch. The strain was becoming painful. At last, to their intense relief, they rose from supper and the little officer shut himself in his own cabin. Outside, the boys could hear the feet of the two armed sentries crunching on the snow.
"The outrush of gas will stupefy them," whispered Frank, "we shall have nothing to fear from them after the explosion takes place."
"When is it due?" gasped Billy, with a ghastly attempt at a smile.
"At any moment now. It is impossible to calculate the exact time. But within half an hour we should know our fate."
Silently the boys and the professor waited, although the scientist was so nervous that he strode up and down the cabin floor.
Suddenly the silence was shattered by a loud shout from the engine room.
"The gas! The gas! We are—"
The sentence was never finished.
There was a sudden convulsion of the entire fabric of the big dirigible—as if a giant hand from without were shaking her like a puppy shakes a rat.
She seemed to lift from the ground in a convulsive leap and settled back with a crash that smashed every pane of glass and split her stout sides.
At the same instant, there was an ear-splitting roar as if a boiler had exploded and a flash of ruddy flame.
The exploding gas had caught fire—possibly from a spark from the electric radiators as the bag and their supporting framework was ripped apart by the explosion.
Dazed and half stunned, the boys groped about in total darkness; for the explosion had extinguished every light on the ship.
"Boys, where are you?"
It was Frank calling.
"Great heavens, what a sensation!" gasped the professor, half choked by the powerful fumes of the hydrogen gas which filled the air.
Rapidly the others answered to Frank and groped through the darkness toward his voice. Before them was the shattered side of the cabin. Through the gap was the sky. They could see the bright antarctic stars gleaming. Beyond the rent they knew lay freedom, provided the marauders had not molested their aeroplane.
It was the work of a second to stagger through the opening made by the explosion and gain the fresh air, which they inhaled in great mouthfuls. Then began the dash for the aeroplane.
In the wild confusion that reigned following the explosion, their absence, so far as they could perceive, had not been noticed. As Frank had guessed, the two sentries were knocked senseless by the explosion and the fugitives stumbled over their unconscious figures recumbent on the snow.
Gasping and staggering they plunged on in the direction they knew the Golden Eagle lay. It was not more than a mile distant, but before they reached their goal the professor gave out and the boys had to half-drag, half-carry him over the frozen surface. They were bitterly cold, too, and the thought of the blankets and warm clothing aboard the Golden Eagle lent them additional strength—as much so, in fact, as the peril that lay behind them.
"Can you see her?" gasped Harry, after about fifteen minutes of this heart-breaking work.
"Yes. I think so at least. There seems to be a dark object on the snow ahead. If only they have not molested her," panted Frank.
"If they have, it's all up," exclaimed Billy Barnes. At the same moment Harry breathed:
"Hark!"
Borne over the frozen ground they could hear shouts.
"They have discovered our escape!" exclaimed Frank, "it's a race for life now."
[Illustration: "It's a Race for Life Now.">[
His words threw fresh determination into all. Even the professor made a desperate struggle. A few more paces and there was no doubt that the dark object ahead was the Golden Eagle. Only one anxiety now remained. Was she unharmed?
Bang!
It was a shot from the men of the dirigible.
"They are firing after us," exclaimed Billy.
"They can fire all they want to if they come as wide of the mark as that," said Frank; "they are shooting at random to scare us."
A few seconds later they gained the side of the Golden Eagle and, worn and harried as they were, they could not forbear setting up a cheer as they found that the aeroplane was in perfect shape.
Hastily they cranked the Golden Eagle motor up, blue flame and sharp reports bursting from her exhausts as they did so. The engine was working perfectly,—every cylinder taking up its work as the sparks began to occur rhythmically.
"We've put the fat in the fire now," exclaimed Frank, as he took his seat at the steering wheel. "If they could not locate us before, the noise of the exhaust and the blue flame will betray us to them."
"Well, it can't be helped," shouted Harry, above the roar of the engine. "We've got to get every ounce of power out of her to-night."
The other lad nodded and as he did so a sound like a bee in flight fell on the adventurers' ears—a bullet.
It was followed by several reports.
"They've got the range," cried Harry.
"They won't have it long," said his brother as he threw in the clutch and rapidly the Golden Eagle sped forward, crashing faster and faster over the frozen surface as her young driver worked the engine up to full speed.
In a few seconds more they felt the aeroplane begin to lift and soar into the night air.
They were exploding skyward to safety, while far below them their baffled captors were firing aimlessly in the hope of a random shot shattering some vital part of the aeroplane.
But no such thing happened and as the boys sped toward the west, bound for Camp Hazzard, they sent out a wireless message. Again and again they tried but without success. They could not raise an answer.
"Of course we can't raise them. They are on the march!" shouted Frank suddenly.
"On the motor-sledge bound for the Viking ship," cried Billy, "they should be there to-morrow."
"Say, fellows, we have done it now," cried Frank, with a sudden twinge.
"What's the matter?" inquired the professor.
"Why, they will arrive there to find the others in possession and no sign of us. They'll think we ran away without even putting up a fight."
"We'll have to try to pick them up in the daylight," was the reply; "we know about the route along which they'll drive and from this altitude we can't miss them if they are anywhere within miles of us."
The boys were then at a height of about 1,500 feet. The air was bitter chill and warm wraps and furs had been donned long before. Suddenly the aeroplane gave a sickening sidewise dip and seemed about to capsize. Frank caught and righted her just in time. The gyroscopic balance whizzed furiously.
A curious moaning sound became perceptible in the rigging and a wind, which they had not noticed before, lashed their faces with a stinging sensation. The recollection of the falling barometer flashed across Frank's mind. They were in for a storm.
The boy gazed at the compass beneath its binnacle light. As he did so he gave a gasp.
"We are way off our course," he cried, "the wind is out of the north and it is blowing us due south."
"Due south!" exclaimed Harry.
"That's it. And the worst of it is I can do nothing. With this load on board I don't dare try to buck the wind and it's freshening every minute."
"But if we are being blown due south from here, where on earth will we fetch up?" cried Billy, in dismayed tones.
They all looked blank as they awaited the reply. Frank glanced at his watch and then at the compass and made a rapid mental calculation.
"At the rate we are going we should be over the South Pole, roughly speaking, at about midnight," he said.