The next three days were spent in flying the other kites, tying them on the boats, acquiring experience, and making preparations for the voyage. It was found that, with a moderate breeze, the kites towed the boats at the rate of ten miles an hour, which was beyond the most sanguine hopes of the Captain. Of course they could not beat to windward with them, but they could sail with a considerable slant, and they prevented the boats, while thus advancing, from making much leeway by means of deep leeboards, such as are used even at the present day by Dutch ships.
“But I can’t understand,” said Benjy, after several trials had been made, “why you should not have fitted sails to the boats, instead of kites.”
“Because a sail only a quarter the size of a kite would upset the boat,” said the Captain, “and one small enough to suit it would be little better than a pair of oars. This kite system is like fitting a gigantic sail to a lilliputian boat, d’ye see?”
“I see, father. But I wish it had been a balloon. It would have been greater fun to have gone to the Pole in a balloon!”
“A balloon will never go there, nor anywhere else, Benjy, except where the wind carries it, for a balloon cannot be steered. It’s impossible in the nature of things—as much so as that dream of the visionary, perpetual motion.”
On the fourth day after their arrival at Great Hope Island the wind blew strong and steady from the south, and the explorers prepared to start. The Eskimos had been told that they were to remain behind and shift for themselves—a piece of news which did not seem to affect them at all, one way or other. Those who were selected to go with the explorers were perfectly willing to do so. Chingatok, of course, was particularly ready. So were his corpulent mother and Tekkona and Oblooria; so also were Oolichuk, Ivitchuk, and Akeetolik.
It was a splendid sunny afternoon when the kites were finally flown and attached to the three boats which were commanded respectively by the Captain Leo, and Alf. These three sat at the bow of each boat manipulating the regulators, and keeping the kites fluttering, while the goods and provisions were put on board. Then the Eskimo women and crews stepped in, and the stern ropes were cast loose.
“Let go the check-strings!” shouted the Captain.
This was done. The huge kites began to strain at once, and the india-rubber boats went rushing out to sea, leaving the remainder of the Eskimo band speechless on the shore. They stood there motionless, with open mouths and eyes, the very embodiment of unbelieving wonder, till the boats had disappeared on the horizon.