CHAPTER XI. AT THE NORTH POLE.

This was quickly done.

Pomp was an adept at the business, and soon the six pelts were stored away on board the airship.

Then it was decided to ascend and continue the journey to the Pole.

“We ought to locate that very-much-sought spot in two days more,” declared Frank; “then we are homeward bound.”

Somehow the sound of the words “homeward bound” had begun to have a powerful charm for the explorers.

The time they had been absent and the thrilling experiences which had been theirs were certainly sufficient to satisfy the most fastidious seeker of wild adventure.

“Surely it will seem good to see home once more,” declared Gaston, warmly. “And think of the honor which awaits us!”

Pomp now lacked the co-operation of Barney in clearing the snow from the deck of the airship and its rigging.

But Frank and Gaston lent their services in this. Soon the deck was quite clear and ship-shape.

Then the rotascope was raised and the wings expanded.

The machinery was tried to see that no harm had come to it. Then all was in readiness for the start.

But just as Frank was about to enter the pilot-house a wild cry escaped Pomp’s lips.

“Fo’ de Lor’ sakes, Marse Frank!” he screamed, “jes’ cast yo’ eye ober yender!”

Frank did so. The sight which rewarded his gaze was a thrilling one.

Painfully clambering over an icy ridge near were two men. As they reached its summit and were in full view of the airship one of them shouted:

“Help! Help!”

“Great heavens!” was Frank’s wild cry, “that is Barney!”

“Barney!” gasped the professor.

“Yes, back from the dead!”

“Massy sakes, it am his ghostis!” cried Pomp, in terror. “Don’ go ober dere, Marse Frank!”

“Don’t be a fool!” cried Frank, angrily. “Come along, both of you!”

Gaston followed Frank instantly.

Barney it was, and but just alive. The Celt was covered with a coating of ice.

The man with him was shrunken to a shadow, with pale, cadaverous features. He could hardly creep along and blood marked his course over the snow.

“Barney!” cried Frank, rushing up to the spot. “Thank God you are alive! How did you come here, and who is this?”

“Begorra, Misther Frank, it’s a long swim I had!” replied Barney. “An’ it’s nigh dead I am wid me wet clothes. Shure, we’ll tell yez all about it whin we get warm!”

“Help us, for the love of God!” said the pallid wretch in a whisper.

Nothing more was said until the two exhausted men were helped aboard the airship.

Then Barney was undressed and thawed out, and both were given hot drink and food.

The Celt’s story was brief and succinct.

“Shure, whin I fell into that hole,” he declared, “fer toime me head was under wather. Then I cum up into the air an’ all was dark.

“I felt mesilf being carried along by the current, an’ thin all became loight agin an’ I kem out into daylight wanst more. I was carried about a moile below here, to a big, open basin av wather. I cloimbed out, an’ shure there in the ice I saw the hull av a big ship.

“Masts nor riggin’ there was none, only the hull. An’ whin I wint up to it this gintleman crawled out an’ spoke to me. Shure, he kin tell his story betther than me.”

“Golly! but I am done glad fo’ to see yo’ safe agin, I’ish!” cried Pomp, with glistening eyes.

“Shure, an’ it’s glad I am to be wid yez wanst again!” replied Barney.

The Arctic refugee now began, in a weak, quavering voice to tell his story.

“Three years I have passed in thus cursed clime!” he declared. “All has been solitude like unto death. Oh, God! the horror of that time!

“Three years ago our brig, the Valiant, in command of Captain Alexander Bent, was nipped by the ice and drifted hither, after many months of futile attempt to liberate her.

“I was the first mate, James Spencer, and I am to-day the only survivor. Within six months from the nipping of the ship every member of the crew of twelve men, save myself, were dead.

“A fearful disease struck us and all had it but me. I prayed to have it, but fate ordered otherwise.

“I buried them all, one by one, in the ice. Then I was left in solitude. For three years I lived on the stores of the ship.

“But last week the last biscuit gave out. I had no longer strength to hunt. I had given myself up to die when this man appeared before me. Even now it seems as if I must be dreaming.”

“No,” replied Frank, cheerily, “you are not dreaming. Cheer up, my good man, for you are sure of getting back home.”

“What!” cried the castaway. “Do not mock me. You are cast away here like me?”

“No; this is our ship.”

“Ah, but you will never sail it home. This ice will never break up.”

“You are wrong!” cried Frank. “This is an airship. We sail in the air.”

“An airship!” the poor fellow passed his hand across his brow in a troubled manner. “No, no; it is really a dream! I shall soon awake, as I have many times before.”

Then he lapsed into a revery.

“Let him be!” said Frank, compassionately. “Poor fellow, his brain is weak. He will be stronger soon.”

Barney was soon himself again and as chipper as ever. There was no reason now why the journey should not be continued.

Spencer, the castaway, was asleep. The airship was soon aloft in the air and speeding on its way.

Frank, as well as possible, took his bearings.

“Barely two days more!” he declared. “Then we shall reach the North Pole!”

“We have heard much of the open Polar sea,” declared Professor Gaston. “Now we shall have a chance to prove it.”

“Right!” cried Frank. “And it is really in existence!”

“You know that?”

“Yes, I do.”

The airship sped on for hours. As Frank had predicted, just two days were occupied in reaching the Pole.

In the meantime Spencer had come to himself and was overwhelmed with amazement at his position.

“An airship!” he exclaimed. “The impossible has come to pass! I really cannot realize that I am going home!”

Then great joy became his. Truly it was not to be wondered at, for he might regard it as being almost equivalent to being brought back from death to life.

When the exact locality of the Pole was reached all were disappointed.

It was a cold, blustering spot; a sort of elevation among hills of rugged rock, now, however, heavily coated with ice and snow.

“Now for home!” cried Frank. “Our journey is near its end!”

The mention of home had a magic sound. But thrilling events were yet in store.

The course taken by Frank was a straight line for the Arctic Islands and Hudson’s Bay.

For days the airship kept steadily on this course.

Baffin’s Land and many of the small islands in the Gulf of Bothnia were passed over in the flight.

Then the waters of Hudson’s Bay burst upon the view of the voyagers.

It was truly a wonderful sight.

The course was along the east shore of Hudson’s Bay. When near James Bay and at the mouth of the Great Whale River an astounding thing happened.

Suddenly and without warning the airship began to fall.

“Great heavens!” cried Professor Gaston. “What has happened?”

“Something is wrong!” cried Frank Reade, Jr., “the machinery has failed us!”

However this was it was certain that the airship was bound to reach the earth. The rotascope and wings seemed to have lost their power.

Barney, who was in the pilot-house, steered the Dart to a good landing place just in the verge of a forest of firs.

The waters of the bay were not one hundred yards distant.

Had the airship fallen into them the result would have been serious enough. It would have meant death.

But fortunately they were to alight on shore. Down settled the airship until it struck the earth.

Then Frank went over the machinery critically. He found the defect as he had believed he should in the machinery.

He located the break and then said to his anxious companions:

“It can be repaired, but it will require a couple of days to do it in.”

This meant a delay, and just at a time when all were anxious to reach home. Yet no demur was made.

The anchors were put out and then work was begun.

As Frank had predicted there was a couple of days’ work on the machinery. The job was pushed forward as rapidly as possible and had been nearly completed when an exciting incident occurred.

Suddenly in the water of the bay there appeared a number of the peculiar Esquimau canoes, known as kayaks.

In each was an Esquimau equipped for seal hunting.

They landed and approached the airship. Short and squatty in figure they were, with greasy countenances. A more villainous-looking set had never been seen by the voyagers.

They conversed with Frank for a while in broken English, and then went away. As they disappeared Frank said, with conviction:

“Do you know I do not believe we have seen the last of them. I feel sure that we shall have trouble.”

“You may be sure of that!” declared Spencer. “I know something about their race, and I tell you they are a bad lot.”

“Begorra, ther’s enough av us to whip them!” averred Barney.

“That may be true,” agreed Frank, “but it will put us to the unpleasant necessity of killing a few of them.”

That night a careful guard was kept. Barney and Pomp watched alternately. But it was not until the next day, that the real trouble came.