“Hurrah!” cried Rory. “Gather round the fire, boys; sit in, captain; sit in, Sandy; let us talk about home and what we all will do when we get there.”
Little, little did they know then the hardships that were in store for them.
Summer had fairly set in, but as yet there were not the slightest signs of the ice breaking up. Several balloon flights were made, the aeronaut always making most careful calculations for days before starting, and generally succeeding in catching a favourable time.
Then the principal adventure of the whole cruise was undertaken—a great sledging journey towards the Pole itself.
The sledges, specially prepared for the purpose, were got out and carefully loaded with everything that would be found necessary.
For a time the Arrandoon was to be left with but a few hands, or “ship-keepers,” as they are called, on her.
The great snowstorm of the previous winter McBain judged, and rightly too, would be in favour of the expedition; it smoothed the roughness of the ice, and made sledging even pleasurable. De Vere had two sledges, devoted to carrying his balloon and the means wherewith to inflate it.
Ted Wilson was left in charge of the ship, with little Ap, the cook, and carpenter’s crew, to say nothing of little Freezing Powders and Cockie.
“If you do find the North Pole,” cried Ted Wilson, as a parting salutation to one of his companions, “do fair Johnick, Bill, fair Johnick—bring us a bit.”
I have to tell of no terrible hardships or sufferings experienced by our heroes during this memorable sledge journey. They accomplished on an average about twelve miles a day, or seventy miles a week, and they invariably rested on the Sabbath, merely taking exercise on that day to keep up the warmth of their bodies.