Nearly a twelvemonth previously, his brother, Claude Ranworth, had set out on a scientific and geological expedition to Nova Cania, a large island, hitherto but slightly explored, almost due north of Franz Josef's Land, and within five degrees of the Pole.
Owing to the peculiarities of the Arctic drift current, approach to Nova Cania is generally possible only during the latter part of August and September. At other periods of the year an impassable barrier of pack ice cuts off all possibility of direct communication.
Claude Ranworth's expedition had been equipped with a wireless installation of a range of about three hundred miles. Thus it was possible to communicate with the outside world for six months of the year by means of the international station at Thorsden, on Spitzbergen.
The expedition had been successful. Investigations resulted in the discovery of vast quantities of platinum, sufficient to disturb the commercial value of that hitherto highly precious metal.
Suddenly news was received that a disastrous blizzard had played havoc with the stores of the expedition. Unless rescue were speedily forthcoming, slow death by starvation stared them in the face.
At the same time reports from Danish whalers stated that the pack ice to the northward of Spitzbergen was dispersing considerably earlier than usual, and the experienced skippers expressed an opinion that it was quite possible to approach Desolation Inlet—the only safe harbour of Nova Cania—a fortnight or three weeks sooner than is usually the case.
Already in anticipation of going to bring his brother's expedition home, John Ranworth had chartered and fitted out the Polarity. The news that Desolation Inlet might be accessible did not therefore catch him napping. Within six hours of the momentous wireless news, the Polarity left Hull for the desolate Arctic.
Before the Polarity had rounded Spurn Head, an engine-room defect had caused her to put back for repairs, and twenty-four hours' delay was the result.
Now, when once more the ex-whaler was on her way, another delay chafed John Ranworth's highly-strung mind.
"By Jove, sir! It's a raft or something of the sort. There are two people in it. I can see their heads as the thing lists this way," reported Travers.