With the exception of Guy, who perforce had to remain at the steering-wheel, all on board went to the after end of the cabin. Even the sick and insensible ones were removed by their comrades.
The result was as Guy had foretold. The Bird of Freedom's bows, caught by the wind, were turned until her stern pointed dead into the eye of the wind, while the third runner, which also acted as a rudder, was immersed to such an extent that it obtained a good grip upon the water.
Scudding before the wind, the Bird of Freedom was quite under control, rounding the dangerous point without difficulty. At Leslie's suggestion, three shots were fired through one of the scuttles to attract the attention of the as yet invisible Polarity, for two or three intervening spurs of cliff hid her from the sleigh.
Presently the ship came into view. Her crew manned the sides and gave three cheers for the returning sleigh. Seeing her coming "bows on," they erroneously concluded that she was under power.
In the lower reaches of the inlet it was now blowing hard. The Bird of Freedom was scudding at a good twelve miles an hour, without means of bringing up.
Guy realised that if he approached too closely to the Polarity, a gust might drive the comparatively frail craft against her parent ship with disastrous results. If, on the other hand, he steered wide, the Bird of Freedom would drift helplessly to leeward of the Polarity and be in great danger of being blown into the open sea.
"Hang on to the helm, Leslie!" he exclaimed, and as his chum took his place at the steering-wheel, Guy snatched a couple of hand-flags from the locker and hurriedly made his way through the hatchway in the roof and gained the sloping and unsteady platform without.
The roof was slippery with ice. It was impossible to gain a foothold, without danger of sliding overboard as the sleigh rolled about helplessly.
Sitting on the combing, Guy began to signal. An answering call came from the Polarity.
"Not under control," signalled the lad. "Send a boat."