During the whole time the work of refitting the sleigh was in progress, Leslie and Guy slept like logs. It was not until twelve hours later that they awoke, to find Captain Stormleigh in the cabin.
"Mr. Ranworth insists upon going," declared the skipper ruefully. "He's not fit. I told him so, and he promptly remarked that my business was the safety and navigation of the ship. He's right there, of course, but I did my best to persuade him to give up the idea."
"How about the doctor?" asked Leslie. "Can't he put his foot down?"
Captain Stormleigh shook his head.
"He did, but it was of no use. Mr. Ranworth told him he had done his duty by expressing his opinion as a medical man. 'I'm going at my risk, not yours, Doctor,' he declared. 'So don't say any more about it.'"
"How is the weather, sir?" asked Guy.
"'Moderating," announced Captain Stormleigh. "The wind's veered a bit, so the creek is now fairly sheltered. The northerly wind is the only one we feel here. But what I'm here for is this: Mr. Ranworth sends his compliments and wishes to know whether you'll be ready by ten o'clock."
"Yes, sir, at ten o'clock," replied both lads promptly, and without more ado they proceeded to get ready for their second journey into the interior of the desolate Nova Cania.
As soon as they had had a good meal, the lads went on deck. The Polarity was no longer in her former berth. She had proceeded five miles farther up the creek, so as to be nearer to the only practicable landing-place, and in fact within sight of the glacier.
The damage to the roof of the cabin had already been made good. The motors were once more in working order, and charged ready for a thirty hours' run.