CHAPTER XVII
"SO THIS IS THE POLE"
Many of the disasters which threaten us in this life pass us by. So it was with the impending disaster of piling ice near the submarine. It did not pile.
But there remained the problem of getting the submarine through that six-foot roof to the water beneath. How was it to be done?
The Doctor still paced back and forth, his unrest written in the furrows of his brow. The jackies, cheerful as ever, worked at their shift of repairing the craft, or, when not at work, played at "duck-on-rock" with chunks of ice. Once a seal appeared in a water-hole. Had he not departed promptly, there would have been fried seal steak and roast seal heart for supper. A lumbering bear, that had evidently never seen a human being before, was not so fortunate. His pelt was added to the trophies of the expedition, and his meat was ground into rather tough hamburger.
Finally the mechanics announced that the submarine was again in perfect condition. Now was the time to try Dave's last trick. Sending three men to stretch a hundred-fathom cable from the submarine, and to anchor its farther end to a great ice-pan, he dropped below to return at once with a package. Cautioning the men not to follow him, he walked away seventy-five yards, bent over the center of an ice-pan, seemingly to adjust certain things and put others in order. This done, he strung a black cord-like affair from his little pile of objects. He then measured off ten paces, and repeated these operations. He then lighted a small gasoline torch, and held the tip of the second cord-like affair to it, then raced to the other for the same purpose. When this was done, he sped away toward his companions. His actions were quickly understood by the watching crew. The furrows on the Doctor's brow had become mere lines. He was smiling hopefully. When Dave tripped over an ice boulder there was a cry of alarm, but he was up in a second, and found shelter with his men. Instinctively everyone ducked. Then came two roaring explosions in quick succession. Bits of splintered ice fell around them like hail. Before the ice fragments had ceased falling, everyone was climbing to the top of the ice-pile. What they saw caused a shout of joy. Where the ice-pan had been was a long stretch of black water that slowly widened until it was quite large enough to float the submarine and allow it to submerge.
At once every man was at his task. The submarine moved slowly toward the water. There followed a dip, a great splash, a wild "Hurrah!" and five minutes later they were once more on their way to the Pole.
But, during this time, Dave's active mind had been working on another problem, which might appear to have been settled, but had not been: the drift of the floe. If the ice did not pile when the floes came together, why was it? It seemed to him there could be but one answer; other water-channels beyond the drift, under which they now traveled, were being closed by counter-currents. And if they closed, one after the other, more rapidly than the advance of the submarine, what was finally to become of the submarine crew? Would they not perish for lack of air? Dave did not share the cheerful mood of the Doctor and the crew; it was his turn to look worried.
Many hours later, his worst fears having been realized, he found himself again in the little room of many wheels and dials. Hour after hour they had shot beneath the varying surface of the floe, but not for one hopeful second had they caught the dark shadow of open water. As near as he could reckon, allowing for the ever-present currents, Dave believed they were nearing the Pole. But his brain was now throbbing as if a hundred trip-hammers were pounding upon it. Moments alone would tell the tale, for the oxygen in the air was exhausted. Already half the crew were unconscious; others were reeling like drunken men. The Doctor had been the first to succumb to the poison of polluted air.
In this crisis Dave was not alone at the wheel. The Eskimo boy, Azazruk, was by his side. It was for just such a time as this that he had taught the bright young native something of the control of the mechanism.
Each wheel of the operating devices was numbered. He had taught the
Eskimo a formula by pains-taking repetition.
"If ever the time comes when all are sick, no one can move but you," he had said many times, "and if at that time you see black waters above, act quickly. One—seven—ten—three—five, remember that. One wheel at a time, quickly but surely; one—seven—ten—three—five."
"One—seven—ten—three—five," the Eskimo boy had faithfully repeated after him, and rolled his eyes half in amusement and half in terror.
"Wheel one is for rise, seven for fans, ten to stop, three to lift the outer-hatch, five the inner-hatch," Dave had explained. "But you only need to remember one—seven—ten—three—five."
Somehow, Dave had come to believe that this hardy young Alaskan, reared as he had been, under perfect conditions of food, air, light and exercise, could, if the test ever came, survive his civilized companions.
Now, as he reeled and a great wave of dizzy sickness came over him, while he sank to the floor, Dave was glad he had taught Azazruk; for the boy, with a strange, strained look of terror in his eye, stood still at the wheel.
Dimly he felt, rather than saw, a dark shadow pass over them. As in a dream he whispered the magic formula:
"One—seven—ten—three—five."
Faintly he heard the grind of the wheels, felt the fan's breath on his cheek, then all was lost in unconsciousness.
* * * * *
After ten solid hours of sleep the airplane party awoke to find their dogs whining and pawing at the entrance to their shelter.
"Guess they're hungry," said Barney, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Now if we could only locate a seal in some water-hole, it would help out our scanty supply of food."
"Suppose we try," said Bruce, slipping into his skin garments and looking to his rifle.
"All right," said Barney, and without delay they were hurrying to a pressure ridge of ice from whose top they might hope to locate the nearest water-lead. This took them some distance from their camp, but since the air was still and the moon flooded everything with light as of day, this did not worry them.
They had reached the height, and were scanning the long lead of water something like a mile to the left of them, when Bruce gave a cry of surprise, and, pointing to the south end of the lead, exclaimed:
"What's that immense black thing rising from the water? Can't be a whale up here, can it?"
"Impossible! And, look! There's something rising from the center of it!
It can't be—yes—it is! It's the submarine!"
Barney tumbled from the ice ridge and went sprinting away over the ice.
His boyhood pal, Dave Tower, was on that submarine.
With greater deliberation, Bruce attracted the attention of the Major.
Together they hurried after their companion.
The sight that met their eyes as they reached the edge of the water-channel filled them with consternation. The Eskimo boy and Barney were hurriedly carrying limp, motionless forms from the submarine into the outer air.
Their worst fears were groundless, however, for after two hours of faithful work they restored the last one of the crew to consciousness. The last to recover was the Doctor.
"Which goes to prove," smiled Dave, "that when you most need a doctor, that's the time he's most likely to be sick."
There was a moment of joyful reunion between the two pals, Barney and Dave. As for the explorers, after the danger had passed, they seemed to take little notice of one another.
The Doctor soon was able to rise unsteadily, and, supported by two of his men, he dragged himself back and forth across the ice. When, at last, he had full possession of his faculties, he suddenly darted into the submarine, reappearing a moment later with instruments.
At sight of these, the Major's attention once more turned to the task he had left. With backs turned, not twenty yards apart, the two great rivals began taking observations. Carefully they spread lines of mercury for an artificial horizon, and painstakingly adjusting their instruments, began to take readings. Then, turning to their nautical almanacs, they figured. For some time an awed silence fell on the little group. Presently the two men rose, facing one another. Smiles played about their lips. For a second they stood thus, then starting toward each other, they extended hands for a clasp—the grip of a mutual admiration.
"Gentlemen," said the Major, the huskiness in his voice betraying his emotion, "we are now within five miles of the Pole, and that is as close an observation as any man can hope to make."
"Might as well call it the Pole," smiled the Doctor. "I make it three miles."
For a time silence again reigned, then it was Dave who spoke.
"So this is the Pole!" he exclaimed. "Well, then, it's time for a bit of jazz. Bring on your instruments of torture."
Jazz always was imperfect music, and here, with untutored musicians and rude instruments, it was imperfection itself; but it is doubtful if any music ever soothed unstrung nerves as did this bit of jazz that rent the midnight silence at the top of the world.
The applause which followed awakened echoes among the ice-piles, and sent a lone doveky away into the shadows.
"Well," said the Doctor, as the echoes of the last burst of jazz died away, "Major, I suppose we are to have the pleasure of your company on our return journey. Am I right?"
"I am afraid so," the Major smiled a bit wanly. "Guess our plane is at last beyond repair."
"But I say," ejaculated Barney, "you can stow the remains of our plane somewhere below, can't you?"
"Why—er—yes," smiled the Doctor. "We've considerable space now, since using the fuel and food. But why freight the junk? What's the grand idea?"
"I think we can get a bunch of sled-timber and canvas from the whalers at
Point Barrow and rig her up again."
"Why? You'll be welcome to come with us all the way."
"Bruce here, and I," began Barney, and Bruce grinned at the mention of his name, "have a very special mission that takes us cross-country rather than by water. Much as we should like to accept your kind invitation, our mission makes the other route imperative, if it is at all possible to take it."
He told them the story of La Vaune, of Timmie and the ancient pay-roll.
"That being the case," agreed the Doctor, "I shall be glad to assist you by freighting your plane to Point Barrow, and I now release my entire crew to help you in demounting it and bringing it to the submarine."
As the gobs joined the two young aviators in a wild race across the ice-floes, with Jarvis straining after them, the Major turned a smiling face toward the Doctor, as he remarked:
"As fine a bunch as I ever saw."
"You're right," said the Doctor, "and deserving of a rich reward."
"Speaking of rewards," said the Major quickly, "how about that ten thousand which comes to some of us? I had promised it to my boys, had I won."
"And I the same," smiled the Doctor.
"The puzzle is, who's won!"
"Suppose we split, fifty-fifty, and, following our original plan, each give his share to his boys."
"Splendid! Just the right thing!" exclaimed the Major.
"It's a go!" The Doctor grasped the Major's hand.
And this was the glad news that awaited the men as they returned, some dragging poles, some carrying rolls of canvas, while others urged, pushed and pulled at the dog-team drawing a sled on which was loaded the Liberty motor. To the aviators was to go five thousand dollars; to the jackies, five thousand.
"Nothing of the kind!" exclaimed Bruce indignantly.
"I should say nix!" echoed Barney.
"Why, what could be fairer?" said the Doctor, a puzzled look on his face.
"Why," Barney declared, feeling sure he was also speaking for his partner; "we each get two thousand five hundred, and your men who have worked as hard and risked as much, each get a fraction of that sum. I say, nothing doing. Share and share alike, man for man, them's my sentiments. Get out your pencil and see how many times ten goes in ten thousand. A thousand times? A thousand apiece, that's something like! Enough to have a whale of a good time on, or buy a farm. Pay your money and take your choice. Step up, gents, and try your luck!"
When the gobs realized that this wild harangue meant that the aviators wished to split the whole reward with them, they were at first urgent in protest, and, when this availed them nothing, they went wild with cheers for the true sports of the aviation department.
Of course this all called for another burst of jazz, after which came the work of packing away the parts of the airplane, in which task the gobs showed an enthusiasm which told better than shouts what they thought of the young aviators.
After the stars and stripes had been planted on a high ice-pinnacle, a rather solemn supper was eaten in the lee of a giant ice-cake. Then, with the jazz band playing "Star Spangled Banner," the submarine sank and the homeward journey was begun.
A fortunate voyage brought them to Point Barrow in sixty-eight hours. There the aviators found the supplies they needed, and began at once preparing for the overland trip. The Doctor and the Major decided to proceed down the coast by dog-team to Cape Prince of Wales, where they would catch the first boat in the Spring. The submarine crew were put "on their own" and instructed to follow down the coast in a safe and leisurely fashion, to report their arrival at the naval station in Seattle.
Bruce and Barney succeeded in rigging out the plane in a very satisfactory manner, and one day in early Spring they again alighted in Timmie's stubble, much to the joy of the entire family. And a few days later they made a landing in the old athletic field of Brandon college, where a very happy girl, who had been watching the plane with a wistful eye, came rushing out to meet them.
When Bruce pressed into her hand a package, and told her of its contents, tears came to her eyes—tears of joy that her struggles were over, but also tears of thankfulness for the safe return of those who had done so much for her.
The submarine crew arrived in Seattle in due time. There, before they separated for a long leave, which was sure to be followed by honorable discharge, five of them agreed to pool their share of the prize money to charter a craft, preferably a submarine, and go in search of the treasure city of Siberia. There was talk, too, of an attempt to induce Bruce and Barney to join them on the expedition, as an airplane, which could be stowed in the submarine when not in use, would be of inestimable service to them.
Bruce and Barney in due time collected the reward offered for the destruction of the outlaw wireless station.
As for the Major and the Doctor, there is still much speculation in many quarters as to their identity. And, as for myself, I am not able to add any information on the subject.
* * * * *
The solving of the mystery of the City of Gold was, at last, left to David Tower and Jarvis. The story of this adventure will be told in the next volume of the Snell Mystery Stories for Boys series which will be entitled "Panther-Eye."