"This is a sort of preliminary canter before we start with the giant sleigh," explained Aubrey Hawke. "Hitherto I've had no experience in guiding a mechanically propelled sleigh, and I reckon it will take a bit of practice. Lie low, both of you, and keep your hoods well over your faces."
The lads did as they were directed, while Hawke, making his way to the front of the sleigh, prepared to start the motor. This he did by swinging the propeller, which made Guy wonder what would happen when the thing did start.
Would Hawke be in time to regain his seat before the sleigh darted off at forty miles an hour?
The motor was most refractory. Owing to the intense cold, the oil in the cylinders had frozen, but after a considerable amount of energy had been expended in swinging the engine, the petrol fired merrily. Yet the sleigh, beyond quivering under the vibration of the engine, made no attempt to move.
Almost leisurely Hawke strolled back to his seat, and having carefully adjusted his wrappings, touched several levers operating the controls.
Quickly the revolutions of the propeller increased, until the noise seemed deafening. With a jerk which almost threw the lads backward, the sleigh started, and soon attained a speed of forty miles an hour.
Three minutes were sufficient to bring the sleigh to the farthermost limits of the ice floe, then, slowing down, Hawke made a cautious turn to the left. Even then the left-hand runner rose quite two feet in the air, the tilt of the sleigh threatening to throw the crew upon the ice.
Once more on the straight, Hawke opened the throttle "all out." Like an object endowed with life, the sleigh bounded forward. Rifts in the ice it made light of, literally skimming across the deep yet narrow crevices. Hummocks of medium size it leapt at, surmounted, and, with hardly a perceptible jar, alighted upon smooth ice beyond. The only thing lacking was, in Leslie's opinion, the promised chance of steering the swiftly-moving and novel vehicle.
Suddenly Hawke throttled down and switched off the motor. Carried onwards by its own momentum, the sleigh travelled nearly two hundred yards before the pace appeared to diminish appreciably. It was a glide in glorious silence, compared with the roar of the propellers and the explosions of the engines. Only the sharp swish as the keen runners cut the ice and broke the stillness.
"A big hummock ahead," remarked Hawke, pointing to a rounded hill of ice. "It's too much for us to tackle in this affair. The big sleigh would simply do it as easy as winking. We'll pull up here and have a brisk walk. My limbs are half-frozen already."