"Perhaps," he said. "But in any case it bore my weight, so what did it matter, then?"
"I'm afraid it matters now," rejoined Guy. "It's pretty evident that it won't bear the weight of the sleigh and its crew. What do you propose?"
"We are not two versts from my companions' temporary habitation," said Petrovitch. "You have a rifle, I see. Why not fire a few shots to let them know we are close?"
"That won't help us much," objected Leslie, who, having stopped the motors, had joined in the council.
"If I could walk across, they can do the same," declared the Russian. "Therefore, let us fire signal guns."
Half a dozen rounds were fired at regular intervals, but no answering signal came from the direction of the wrecked airship. Petrovitch, nothing daunted at the failure of his plan, smiled broadly.
"Since they will not pay attention, I must needs go and bring them here," he declared. And, without further delay, he commenced to place tins of concentrated food and biscuits into a small haversack.
"Unless harm befall me, I return in three hours," he said.
"Guy, old man!" exclaimed his chum, "I can't let that fellow toddle off by himself. I'm going with him. It's not so very far, and the weather looks promising. The glass is steady, and the sun's looking clearer than for days past; so here goes. You stand by and look after Mr. Ranworth."
"All right," assented Guy. "Only, mind and take care of yourself. I wish to goodness I was going with you."