polaris of the snows by charles b. stilson all-story weekly _december 18, 1915-january 1, 1916_ "north! north! to the north, polaris. tell the world--ah, tell them--boy--the north! the north! you must go, polaris!" throwing the covers from his low couch, the old man arose and stood, a giant, tottering figure. higher and higher he towered. he tossed his arms high, his features became convulsed; his eyes glazed. in his throat the rising tide of dissolution choked his voice to a hoarse rattle. he swayed. with a last desperate rallying of his failing powers he extended his right arm and pointed to the north. then he fell, as a tree falls, quivered, and was still. his companion bent over the pallet, and with light, sure fingers closed his eyes. in all the world he knew, polaris never had seen a human being die. in all the world he now was utterly alone! he sat down at the foot of the cot, and for many minutes gazed steadily at the wall with fixed, unseeing eyes. a sputtering little lamp, which stood on a table in the center of the room, flickered and went out. the flames of the fireplace played strange tricks in the strange room. in their uncertain glare, the features of the dead man seemed to writhe uncannily. garments and hangings of the skins of beasts stirred in the wavering shadows, as though the ghosts of their one-time tenants were struggling to reassert their dominion. at the one door and the lone window the wind whispered, fretted, and shrieked. snow as fine and hard as the sands of the sea rasped across the panes. somewhere without a dog howled--the long, throaty ululation of the wolf breed. another joined in, and another, until a full score of canine voices wailed a weird requiem. unheeding, the living man sat as still as the dead. once, twice, thrice, a little clock struck a halting, uncertain stroke. when the fourth hour was passed it rattled crazily and stopped. the fire died away to embers; the embers paled to ashes. as though they were aware that something had gone awry, the dogs never ceased their baying. the wind rose higher and higher, and assailed the house with repeated shocks. pale-gray and changeless day that lay across a sea of snows peered furtively through the windows. at length the watcher relaxed his silent vigil. he arose, cast off his coat of white furs, stepped to the wall of the room opposite to the door, and shoved back a heavy wooden panel. a dark aperture was disclosed. he disappeared and came forth presently, carrying several large chunks of what appeared to be crumbling black rock. he threw them on the dying fire, where they snapped briskly, caught fire, and flamed brightly. they were coal. from a platform above the fireplace he dragged down a portion of the skinned carcass of a walrus. with the long, heavy-bladed knife from his belt he cut it into strips. laden with the meat, he opened the door and went out into the dim day. the house was set against the side of a cliff of solid, black, lusterless coal. a compact stockade of great boulders enclosed the front of the dwelling. from the back of the building, along the base of the cliff, ran a low shed of timber slabs, from which sounded the howling and worrying of the dogs. as polaris entered the stockade the clamor was redoubled. the rude plank at the front of the shed, which was its door, was shaken repeatedly as heavy bodies were hurled against it. kicking an accumulation of loose snow away from the door, the man took from its racks the bar which made it fast and let it drop forward. a reek of steam floated from its opening. a shaggy head was thrust forth, followed immediately by a great, gray body, which shot out as if propelled from a catapult. catching in its jaws the strip of flesh which the man dangled in front of the doorway, the brute dashed across the stockade and crouched against the wall, tearing at the meat. dog after dog piled pell-mell through the doorway, until at least twenty-five grizzled animals were distributed about the enclosure, bolting their meal of walrus-flesh. * * * * * for a few moments the man sat on the roof of the shed and watched the animals. although the raw flesh stiffened in the frigid air before even the jaws of the dogs could devour it and the wind cut like the lash of a whip, the man, coatless and with head and arms bared, seemed to mind neither the cold nor the blast. he had not the ruggedness of figure or the great height of the man who lay dead within the house. he was of considerably more than medium height, but so broad of shoulder and deep of chest that he seemed short. every line of his compact figure bespoke unusual strength--the wiry, swift strength of an animal. his arms, white and shapely, rippled with muscles at the least movement of his fingers. his hand were small, but powerfully shaped. his neck was straight and not long. the thews spread from it to his wide shoulders like those of a splendid athlete. the ears were set close above the angle of a firm jaw, and were nearly hidden in a mass of tawny, yellow hair, as fine as a woman's, which swept over his shoulders. above a square chin were full lips and a thin, aquiline nose. deep, brown eyes, fringed with black lashes, made a marked contrast with the fairness of his complexion and his yellow hair and brows. he was not more than twenty-four years old. presently he re-entered the house. the dogs flocked after him to the door, whining and rubbing against his legs, but he allowed none of them to enter with him. he stood before the dead man and, for the first time in many hours, he spoke: "for this day, my father, you have waited many years. i shall not delay. i will not fail you." from a skin sack he filled the small lamp with oil and lighted its wick with a splinter of blazing coal. he set it where its feeble light shone on the face of the dead. lifting the corpse, he composed its limbs and wrapped it in the great white pelt of a polar bear, tying it with many thongs. before he hid from view the quiet features he stood back with folded arms and bowed head. "i think he would have wished this," he whispered, and he sang softly that grand old hymn which has sped so many christian soldiers from their battlefield. "nearer, my god, to thee," he sang in a subdued, melodious baritone. from a shelf of books which hung on the wall he reached a leather-covered volume. "it was his religion," he muttered: "it may be mine," and he read from the book: "_i am the resurrection and the life, whoso believeth in me, even though he died_--" and on through the sonorous burial service. he dropped the book within the folds of the bearskin, covered the dead face, and made fast the robe. although the body was of great weight, he shouldered it without apparent effort, took the lamp in one hand, and passed through the panel in the wall. within the bowels of the cliff a large cavern had been hollowed in the coal. in a far corner a gray boulder had been hewn into the shape of a tombstone. on its face were carved side by side two words: "anne" and "stephen." at the foot of the stone were a mound and an open grave. he laid the body in the grave and covered it with earth and loose coal. again he paused, while the lamplight shone on the tomb. "may you rest in peace, o anne, my mother, and stephen, my father. i never knew you, my mother, and, my father, i knew not who you were nor who i am. i go to carry your message." * * * * * he rolled boulders onto the two mounds. the opening to the cave he walled up with other boulders, piling a heap of them and of large pieces of coal until it filled the low arch of the entrance. in the cabin he made preparations for a journey. one by one he threw on the fire books and other articles within the room, until little was left but skins and garments of fur and an assortment of barbaric weapons of the chase. last he dragged from under the cot a long, oaken chest. failing to find its key, he tore the lid from it with his strong hands. some articles of feminine wearing apparel which were within it he handled reverently, and at the same time curiously; for they were of cloth. wonderingly he ran his fingers over silk and fine laces. those he also burned. from the bottom of the chest he took a short, brown rifle and a brace of heavy revolvers of a pattern and caliber famous in the annals of the plainsmen. with them were belt and holsters. he counted the cartridges in the belt. forty there were, and in the chambers of the revolvers and the magazine of the rifle, eighteen more. fifty-eight shots with which to meet the perils that lay between himself and that world of men to the north--if, indeed, the passing years had not spoiled the ammunition. he divested himself of his clothing, bathed with melted snow-water, and dressed himself anew in white furs. an omelet of eggs of wild birds and a cutlet of walrus-flesh sufficed to stay his hunger, and he was ready to face the unknown. in the stockade was a strongly build sledge. polaris packed it with quantities of meat both fresh and dried, of which there was a large store in the cabin. what he did not pack on the sledge he threw to the eager dogs. he laid his harness out on the snow, cracked his long whip, and called up his team. "octavius, nero, julius." three powerful brutes bounded to him and took their places in the string. "juno, hector, pallas." three more grizzled snow-runners sprang into line. "marcus." the great, gray leader trotted sedately to the place at the head of the team. a seven-dog team it was, all of them bearing the names before which rome and greece had bowed. polaris added to the burden of the sledge the brown rifle, several spears, carved from oaken beams and tipped with steel, and a sealskin filled with boiled snow-water. on his last trip into the cabin he took from a drawer in the table a small, flat packet, sewn in membranous parchment. "this is to tell the world my father's message and to tell who i am," he said, and hid it in an inner pocket of his vest of furs. he buckled on the revolver-belt, took whip and staff from the fireside, and drove his dog-team out of the stockade onto the prairie of snow, closing the gate on the howling chorus left behind. he proceeded several hundred yards, then tethered his dogs with a word of admonition, and retraced his steps. in the stockade he did a strange and terrible thing. long used to seeing him depart from his team, the dogs had scattered and were mumbling their bones in various corners. "if i leave these behind me, they will perish miserably, or they will break out and follow, and i may not take them with me," he muttered. from dog to dog he passed. to each he spoke a word of farewell. each he caressed with a pat on the head. each he killed with a single grip of his muscular hands, gripping them at the nape of the neck, where the bones parted in his powerful fingers. silently and swiftly he proceeded until only one dog remained alive, old paulus, the patriarch of the pack. he bent over the animal, which raised its dim eyes to his and licked at his hands. "paulus, dear old friend that i have grown up with; farewell, paulus," he said. he pressed his face against the noble head of the dog. when he raised it tears were coursing down his cheeks. then paulus's spirit sped. two by two he dragged the bodies into the cabin. "of old a great general in that far world of men burned his ships that he might not turn back. i will not turn back," he murmured. with a splinter of blazing coal he fired the house and the dog-shed. he tore the gate of the stockade from its hinges and cast it into the ruins. with his great strength he toppled over the capping-stones of the wall, and left it a ruin also. 2. the first woman probably in all the world there was not the equal of the team of dogs which polaris had selected for his journey. their ancestors in the long ago had been the fierce, gray timberwolves of the north. carefully cross-bred, the strains in their blood were of the wolf, the great dane, and the mastiff; but the wolf strain held dominant. they had the loyalty of the mastiff, the strength of the great dane, and the tireless sinews of the wolf. from the environment of their rearing they were well furred and inured to the cold and hardships of the antarctic. they would travel far. polaris did not ride on the sledge. he ran with the dogs, as swift and tireless as they. a wonderful example of the adaptability to conditions of the human race, his upbringing had given him the strength and endurance of an animal. he had never seen the dog that he could not run down. he, too, would travel fast and far. in the nature of the land through which they journeyed on their first dash to the northward, there were few obstacles to quick progress. it was a prairie of snow, wind-swept, and stretching like a desert as far as eye could discern. occasionally were upcroppings of coal cliffs similar to the one where had been polaris's home. on the first drive they made a good fifty miles. need of sleep, more than fatigue, warned both man and beasts of camping-time. polaris, who seemed to have a definite point in view, urged on the dogs for an hour longer than was usual on an ordinary trip, and they came to the border of the immense snow-plain. to the northeast lay a ridge of what appeared to be snow-covered hills. beyond the edge of the white prairie was a forest of ice. millions of jagged monoliths stood and lay, jammed closely together, in every conceivable shape and angle. at some time a giant ice-flow had crashed down upon the land. it had fretted and torn at the shore, had heaved itself up, with its myriad gleaming tusks bared for destruction. then nature had laid upon it a calm, white hand, and had frozen it quiet and still and changeless. away to the east a path was open, which skirted the field of broken ice and led in toward the base of the hills. polaris did not take that path. he turned west, following the line of the ice-belt. presently he found what he sought. a narrow lane led into the heart of the iceberg. at the end of it, caught in the jaws of two giant bergs, hung fast, as it had hung for years, the sorry wreck of a stout ship. scarred and rent by the grinding of its prison-ice, and weather-beaten by the rasping of wind-driven snow in a land where the snow never melts, still on the square stern of the vessel could be read the dimming letters which spelled "yedda." polaris unharnessed the pack, and man and dogs crept on board the hulk. it was but a timber shell. much of the decking had been cut away, and everything movable had been taken from it for the building of the cabin and the shed, now in black ruins fifty miles to the south. in an angle of the ice-wall, a few yards from the ship, polaris pitched his camp and built a fire with timbers from the wreck. he struck his flame with a rudely fashioned tinder-box, catching the spark in fine scrapings of wood and nursing it with his breath. he fed the dogs and toasted meat for his own meal at the fire. with a large robe from the sledge he bedded the team snugly beside the fire. with his own parka of furs he clambered aboard the ship, found a bunk in the forecastle, and curled up for the night. several hours later hideous clamor broke his dreamless slumber. he started from the bunk and leaped from the ship's side into the ice-lane. every dog of the pack was bristling and snarling with rage. mixed with their uproar was a deeper, hoarser note of anger that came from the throat of no dog--a note which the man knew well. the team was bunched a few feet ahead of the fire as polaris came over the rail of the ship. almost shoulder to shoulder the seven crouched, every head pointed up the path. they were quivering from head to tail with anger, and seemed to be about to charge. whipping the dogs back, the son of the snows ran forward to meet the danger alone. he could afford to lose no dogs. he had forgotten the guns, but he bore weapons with which he was better acquainted. with a long-hafted spear in his hand and the knife loosened in his belt he bounded up the pathway and stood, wary but unafraid, fronting an immense white bear. he was not a moment too soon. the huge animal had set himself for the charge, and in another instant would have hurled its enormous weight down on the dogs. the beast hesitated, confronted by this new enemy, and sat back on its haunches to consider. knowing his foe aforetime, polaris took that opportunity to deliver his own charge. he bounded forward and drove his tough spear with all his strength into the white chest below the throat. balanced as it was on its haunches, the shock of the man's onset upset the bear, and it rolled backward, a jet of blood spurting over its shaggy coat and, dyeing the snow. like a flash the man followed his advantage. before the brute could turn or recover polaris reached its back and drove his long-bladed knife under the left shoulder. twice he struck deep, and sprang aside. the battle was finished. the beast made a last mighty effort to rear erect, tearing at the spear-shaft, and went down under an avalanche of snarling, ferocious dogs. for the team could refrain from conflict no longer, and charged like a flying wedge to worry the dying foe. replenishing his store of meat with strips from the newly slain bear, polaris allowed the pack to make a famous meal on the carcass. when they were ready to take the trail again, he fired the ship with a blazing brand, and they trotted forth along the snow-path to the east with the skeleton of the stout old _yedda_ roaring and flaming behind them. * * * * * for days polaris pressed northward. to his right extended the range of the white hills. to the left was the seemingly endless ice-field that looked like the angry billows of a storm-tossed sea which had been arrested at the height of tempest, its white-capped, upthrown waves paralyzed cold and dead. down the shore-line, where his path lay, a fierce wind blew continuously and with increasing rigor. he was puzzled to find that instead of becoming warmer as he progressed to the north and away from the pole, the air was more frigid than it had been in his homeland. hardy as he was, there were times when the furious blasts chilled him to the bone and when his magnificent dogs flinched and whimpered. still he pushed on. the sledge grew lighter as the provisions were consumed, and there were few marches that did not cover forty miles. polaris slept with the dogs, huddled in robes. the very food they ate they must warm with the heat of their bodies before it could be devoured. there was no vestige of anything to make fuel for a camp-fire. he had covered some hundreds of miles when he found the contour of the country was changing. the chain of the hills swung sharply away to the east, and the path broadened, fanwise, east and west. an undulating plain of snow and ice-caps, rent by many fissures, lay ahead. this was the most difficult traveling of all. in the middle of their second march across the plain, the man noticed that his gray snow-coursers were uneasy. they threw their snouts up to the wind and growled angrily, scenting some unseen danger. although he had seen nothing larger than a fox since he entered the plain, bear signs had been frequent, and polaris welcomed a hunt to replenish his larder. he halted the team and outspanned the dogs so they would be unhampered by the sledge in case of attack. bidding them remain behind, he went to reconnoiter. he clambered to the summit of a snow-covered ice-crest and gazed ahead. a great joy welled into his heart, a thanksgiving so keen that it brought a mist to the eyes. he had found man! not a quarter of a mile ahead of him, standing in the lee of a low ridge, were two figures unmistakably human. at the instant he saw them the wind brought to his nostrils, sensitive as those of an animal, a strange scent that set his pulses bounding. he _smelled_ man and man's fire! a thin spiral of smoke was curling over the back of the ridge. he hurried forward. hidden by the undulations of slopes and drifts he approached within a few feet of them without being discovered. on the point of crying aloud to them he stopped, paralyzed, and crouched behind a drift. for these men to whom his heart called madly--the first of his own kind but one whom he had ever seen--were tearing at each other's throats like maddened beasts in an effort to take life! like a man in a dream, polaris heard their voices raised in curses. they struggled fiercely but weakly. they were on the brink of one of the deep fissures, or crevasses, which seamed this strange, forgotten land. each was striving to push the other into the chasm. then one who seemed the stronger wrenched himself free and struck the other in the face. the stricken man staggered, threw his arms above his head, toppled, and crashed down the precipice. polaris's first introduction to the civilization which he sought was murder! for those were civilized white men who had fought. they wore garments of cloth. revolvers hung from their belts. their speech, of which he had heard little but cursing, was civilized english. pale to the lips, the son of the wilderness leaped over the snow-drift and strode toward the survivor. in the teachings of his father, murder was the greatest of all crimes; its punishment was swift death. this man who stood on the brink of the chasm which had swallowed his companion had been the aggressor in the fight. he had struck first. he had killed. in the heart of polaris arose a terrible sense of outraged justice. this waif of the eternal snows became the law. the stranger turned and saw him. he started violently, paled, and then an angry flush mounted to his temples and an angry glint came into his eyes. his crime had been witnessed, and by a strange white man. his hand flew to his hip, and he swung a heavy revolver up and fired, speeding the bullet with a curse. he missed and would have fired again, but his hour had struck. with the precision of an automaton polaris snatched one of his own pistols from the holster. he raised it above the level of his shoulder, and fired on the drop. not for nothing had he spent long hours practicing with his father's guns, sighting and pulling the trigger countless times, although they were empty. the man in front of him staggered, dropped his pistol, and reeled dizzily. a stream of blood gushed from his lips. he choked, clawed at the air, and pitched backward. the chasm which had received his victim, received the murderer also. polaris heard a shrill scream to his right, and turned swiftly on his heel, automatically swinging up his revolver to meet a new peril. another being stood on the brow of the ridge--stood with clasped hands and horror-stricken eyes. clad almost the same as the others, there was yet a subtle difference which garments could not disguise. polaris leaned forward with his whole soul in his eyes. his hand fell to his side. he had made his second discovery. he had discovered woman! 3. polaris makes a promise both stood transfixed for a long moment--the man with the wonder that followed his anger, the woman with horror. polaris drew a deep breath and stepped a hesitating pace forward. the woman threw out her hands in a gesture of loathing. "murderer!" she said in a low, deep voice, choked with grief. "oh, my brother; my poor brother!" she threw herself on the snow, sobbing terribly. rooted to the spot by her repelling gesture, polaris watched her. so one of the men had been her brother. which one? his naturally clear mind began to reassert itself. "lady," he called softly. he did not attempt to go nearer to her. she raised her face from her arms, crept to her knees, and stared at him stonily. "well, murderer, finish your work," she said. "i am ready. ah, what had he--what had they done that you should take their lives?" "listen to me, lady," said polaris quietly. "you saw me--kill. was that man your brother?" the girl did not answer, but continued to gaze at him with horror-stricken eyes. her mouth quivered pitifully. "if that man was your brother, then i killed him, and with reason," pursued polaris calmly. "if he was not, then of your brother's death, at least, i am guiltless. i did but punish his slayer." "his _slayer_! what are you saying?" gasped the girl. polaris snapped open the breech of his revolver and emptied its cartridges into his hand. he took the other revolver from its holster and emptied it also. he laid the cartridge in his hand and extended it. "see," he said, "there are twelve cartridges, but only one empty shell. only two shots were fired--one by the man whom i killed, the other by me." he saw that he had her attention, and repeated his question: "was that man your brother?" "no," she answered. "then, you see, i could not have _shot_ your brother," said polaris. his face grew stern with the memory of the scene he had witnessed. "they quarreled, your brother and the other man. i came behind the drift yonder and saw them. i might have stopped them--but, lady, they were the first men i had ever seen, save only one. i was bound by surprise. the other man was stronger. he struck your brother into the crevasse. he would have shot me, but my mind returned to me, and with anger at that which i saw, and i killed him. "in proof, lady, see--the snow between me and the spot yonder where they stood is untracked. i have been no nearer." wonderingly the girl followed with her eyes and the direction of his pointing finger. she comprehended. "i--i believe you have told me the truth," she faltered. "they _had_ quarreled. but--but--you said they were the first men you had ever seen. how--what--" polaris crossed the intervening slope and stood at her side. "that is a long tale, lady," he said simply. "you are in distress. i would help you. let us go to your camp. come." the girl raised her eyes to his, and they gazed long at one another. polaris saw a slender figure of nearly his own height. she was clad in heavy woolen garments. a hooded cap framed the long oval of her face. the eyes that looked into his were steady and gray. long eyes they were, delicately turned at the corners. her nose was straight and high, its end tilted ever so slightly. full, crimson lips and a firm little chin peeped over the collar of her jacket. a wisp of chestnut hair swept her high brow and added its tale to a face that would have been accounted beautiful in any land. in the eyes of polaris she was divinity. the girl saw a young giant in the flower of his manhood. clad in splendid white furs of fox and bear, with a necklace of teeth of the polar bear for adornment, he resembled those magnificent barbarians of the northland's ancient sagas. his yellow hair had grown long, and fell about his shoulders under his fox-skin cap. the clean-cut lines of his face scarce were shaded by its growth of red-gold beard and mustache. except for the guns at his belt he might have been a young chief of vikings. his countenance was at once eager, thoughtful, and determined. barbaric and strange as he seemed, the girl found in his face that which she might trust. she removed a mitten and extended a small, white hand to him. falling on one knee in the snow, polaris kissed it, with the grace of a knight of old doing homage to his lady fair. the girl flashed him another wondering glance from her long, gray eyes that set all his senses tingling. side by side they passed over the ridge. disaster had overtaken the camp which lay on the other side. camp it was by courtesy only--a miserable shelter of blankets and robes, propped with pieces of broken sledge, a few utensils, the partially devoured carcass of a small seal, and a tiny fire, kindled from fragments of the sledge. in the snow some distance from the fire lay the stiffened bodies of several sledge dogs, sinister evidence of the hopelessness of the campers' position. polaris turned questioningly to the girl. "we were lost in the storm," she said. "we left the ship, meaning to be gone only a few hours, and then were lost in the blinding snow. that was three days ago. how many miles we wandered i do not know. the dogs became crazed and turned upon us. the men shot them. oh, there seems so little hope in this terrible land!" she shuddered. "but you--where did you come from?" "do not lose heart, lady," replied polaris. "always, in every land, there is hope. there must be. i have lived here all my life. i have come up from the far south. i know but one path--the path to the north, to the world of men. now i will fetch my sledge up, and then we shall talk and decide. we will find your ship. i, polaris, promise you that." he turned from her to the fire, and cast on its dying embers more fragments of the splintered sledge. his eyes shone. he muttered to himself: "a ship, a ship! ah, but my father's god is good to his son!" he set off across the snow slopes to bring up the pack. 4. hurled south again when his strong form had bounded from her view, the girl turned to the little hut and shut herself within. she cast herself on a heap of blankets, and gave way to her bereavement and terror. her brother's corpse was scarcely cold at the bottom of the abyss. she was lost in the trackless wastes--alone, save for this bizarre stranger who had come out of the snows, this man of strange saying, who seemed a demigod of the wilderness. could she trust him? she must. she recalled him kneeling in the snow, and the courtierlike grace with which he kissed her hand. a hot flush mounted to her eyes. she dried her tears. she heard him return to the camp, and heard the barking of the dogs. once he passed near the hut, but he did not intrude, and she remained within. womanlike, she set about the rearrangement of her hair and clothing. when she had finished she crept to the doorway and peeped out. again her blushes burned her cheeks. she saw the son of the snows crouched above the camp-fire, surrounded by a group of monstrous dogs. he had rubbed his face with oil. a bright blade glittered in his hand. polaris was _shaving_! presently she went out. the young man sprang to his feet, cracking his long whip to restrain the dogs, which would have sprung upon the stranger. they huddled away, their teeth bared, staring at her with glowing eyes. polaris seized one of them by the scruff of the neck, lifted it bodily from the snow, and swung it in front of the girl. "talk to him, lady," he said; "you must be friends. this is julius." the girl bent over and fearlessly stroked the brute's head. "julius, good dog," she said. at her touch the dog quivered and its hackles rose. under the caress of her hand it quieted gradually. the bristling hair relaxed, and julius's tail swung slowly to and fro in an overture of amity. when polaris loosed him, he sniffed in friendly fashion at the girl's hands, and pushed his great head forward for more caresses. then marcus, the grim leader of the pack, stalked majestically forward for his introduction. "ah, you have won marcus!" cried polaris. "and marcus won is a friend indeed. none of them would harm you now." soon she had learned the name and had the confidence of every dog of the pack, to the great delight of their master. among the effects in the camp was a small oil-stove, which polaris greeted with brightened eyes. "one like that we had, but it was worn out long ago," he said. he lighted the stove and began the preparation of a meal. she found that he had cleared the camp and put all in order. he had dragged the carcasses of the dead dogs to the other side of the slope and piled them there. his stock of meat was low, and his own dogs would have no qualms if it came to making their own meals of these strangers of their own kind. the girl produced from the remnants of the camp stores a few handfuls of coffee and an urn. polaris watched in wonderment as she brewed it over the tiny stove and his nose twitched in reception of its delicious aroma. they drank the steaming beverage, piping hot, from tin cups. in the stinging air of the snowlands even the keenest grief must give way to the pangs of hunger. the girl ate heartily of a meal that in a more moderate climate she would have considered fit only for beasts. when their supper was completed they sat huddled in their furs at the edge of the fire. around them were crouched the dogs, watching with eager eyes for any scraps which might fall to their share. "now tell me who you are, and how you came here," questioned the girl. "lady, my name is polaris, and i think that i am an american gentleman," he said, and a trace of pride crept into the words of the answer. "i came here from a cabin and a ship that lie burned many leagues to the southward. all my life i have lived there, with but one companion, my father, who now is dead, and who sends me to the north with a message to that world of men that lies beyond the snows, and from which he long was absent." "a ship--a cabin--" the girl bent toward him in amazement. "and burned? and you have lived--have grown up in this land of snow and ice and bitter cold, where but few things can exist--i don't understand!" "my father has told me much, but not all. it is all in his message which i have not seen," polaris answered. "but that which i tell you is truth. he was a seeker after new things. he came here to seek that which no other man had found. he came in a ship with my mother and others. all were dead before i came to knowledge. he had built a cabin from the ruins of the ship, and he lived there until he died." "and you say that you are an american gentleman?" "that he told me, lady, although i do not know my name or his, except that he was stephen, and he called me polaris." "and did he never try to get to the north?" asked the girl. "no. many years ago, when i was a boy, he fell and was hurt. after that he could do but little. he could not travel." "and you?" "i learned to seek food in the wilderness, lady; to battle with its beasts, to wrest that which would sustain our lives from the snows and the wastes." much more of his life and of his father he told her under her wondering questioning--a tale most incredible to her ears, but, as he said, the truth. finally he finished. "now, lady, what of you?" he asked. "how came you here, and from where?" "my name is rose--" "ah, that is the name of a flower," said polaris. "you were well named." he did not look at her as he spoke. his eyes were turned to the snow slopes and were very wistful. "i have never seen a flower," he continued slowly, "but my father said that of all created things they were the fairest." "i have another name," said the girl. "it is rose--rose emer." "and why did you come here, rose emer?" asked polaris. "like your father, i--we were seekers after new things, my brother and i. both our father and mother died, and left my brother john and myself ridiculously rich. we had to use our money, so we traveled. we have been over most of the world. then a man--an american gentleman--a very brave man, organized an expedition to come to the south to discover the south pole. my brother and i knew him. we were very much interested in his adventure. we helped him with it. then john insisted that he would come with the expedition, and--oh, they didn't wish me to come, but i never had been left behind--i came, too." "and that brave man who came to seek the pole, where is he now?" "perhaps he is dead--out there," said the girl, with a catch in her voice. she pointed to the south. "he left the ship and went on, days ago. he was to establish two camps with supplies. he carried an airship with him. he was to make his last dash for the pole through the air from the farther camp. his men were to wait for him until--until they were sure that he would not come back." "an airship!" polaris bent forward with sparkling eyes. "so there _are_ airships, then! ah, this man must be brave! how is he called?" "james scoland is the name--captain scoland." "he went on whence i came? did he go by that way?" polaris pointed where the white tops of the mountain range which he skirted pierced the sky. "no. he took a course to the east of the mountains, where other explorers of years before had been before him." "yes, i have seen maps. can you tell me where, or nearly where, we are now?" he asked the girl. "this is victoria land," she answered. "we left the ship in a long bay, extending in from ross sea, near where the 160th meridian joins the 80th parallel. we are somewhere within three days' journey from the ship." "and so near to open water?" she nodded. * * * * * rose emer slept in the little shelter, with the grim marcus curled on a robe beside her pallet. crouched among the dogs in the camp, polaris slept little. for hours he sat huddled, with his chin on his hands, pondering what the girl had told him. another man was on his way to the pole--a very brave man--and he might reach it. and then--polaris must be very wary when he met that man who had won so great a prize. "ah, my father," he sighed, "learning is mine through patience. history of the world and of its wars and triumphs and failures, i know. of its tongues you have taught me, even those of the roman and the greek, long since passed away; but how little do i know of the ways of men--and of women! i shall be very careful, my father." quite beyond any power of his to control, an antagonism was growing within him for that man whom he had not seen; antagonism that was not all due to the magnitude of the prize which the man might be winning, or might be dying for. indeed, had he been able to analyze it, that was the least part of it. when they broke camp for their start they found that the perverse wind, which had rested while they slept, had risen when they would journey, and hissed bitterly across the bleak steppes of snow. polaris made a place on the sledge for the girl, and urged the pack into the teeth of the gale. all day long they battled ahead in it, bearing left to the west, where was more level pathway, than among the snow dunes. in an ever increasing blast they came in sight of open water. they halted on a far-stretching field, much broken by huge masses, so snow-covered that it was not possible to know whether they were of rock or ice. not a quarter of a mile beyond them, the edge of the field was fretted by wind-lashed waves, which extended away to the horizon rim, dotted with tossing icebergs of great height. polaris pitched camp in the shelter of a towering cliff, and they made themselves what comfort they could in the stinging cold. they had slept several hours when the slumbers of polaris were pierced by a woman's screams, the frenzied howling of the dogs, and the thundering reverberations of grinding and crashing ice cliffs. a dash of spray splashed across his face. he sprang to his feet in the midst of the leaping pack; as he did so he felt the field beneath him sway and pitch like a hammock. for the first time since he started for the north the antarctic sun was shining brightly--shining cold and clear on a great disaster! for they had pitched their camp on an ice floe. whipped on by the gale, the sea had risen under it, heaved it up and broken it. on a section of the floe several acres in extent their little camp lay, at the very brink of a gash in the ice-field which had cut them off from the land over which they had come. the water was raging like a millrace through the widening rift between them and the shore. caught in a swift current and urged by the furious wind, the broken-up floe was drifting, faster and faster--_back to the south_! 5. battle on the floe helpless, polaris stood at the brink of the rift, swirling water and tossing ice throwing the spray about him in clouds. here was opposition against which his naked strength was useless. as if they realized that they were being parted from the firm land, the dogs grouped at the edge of the floe and sent their dismal howls across the raging swirl, only to be drowned by the din of the crashing icebergs. turning, polaris saw rose emer. she stood at the doorway of the tent of skins, staring across the wind-swept channel with a blank despair looking from her eyes. "ah, all is lost, now!" she gasped. then the great spirit of the man rose into spoken words. "no, lady," he called, his voice rising clearly above the shrieking and thundering pandemonium. "we yet have our lives." as he spoke there was a rending sound at his feet. the dogs sprang back in terror and huddled against the face of the ice cliff. torn away by the impact of some weightier body beneath, nearly half of the ledge where they stood was split from the main body of the floe, and plunged, heaving and crackling into the current. polaris saved himself by a mighty spring. right in the path of the gash lay the sledge, and it hung balanced at the edge of the ice floe. down it swung, and would have slipped over, but polaris saw it going. he clutched at the ends of the leathern dog-harness as they glided from him across the ice, and, with a tug, into which he put all the power of his splendid muscles, he retrieved the sledge. hardly had he dragged it to safety when, with another roar of sundered ice, their foothold gaped again and left them but a scanty shelf at the foot of the beetling berg. "here we may not stay, lady," said polaris. he swept the tent and its robes into his arms and piled them on the sledge. without waiting to harness the dogs, he grasped the leather bands and alone pulled the load along the ledge and around a shoulder of the cliff. at the other side of the cliff a ridge extended between the berg which they skirted and another towering mountain of ice of similar formation. beyond the twin bergs lay the level plane of the floe, its edges continually frayed by the attack of the waves and the onset of floating ice. along the incline of the ridge were several hollows partially filled with drift snow. knowing that on the ice cape, in such a tempest, they must soon perish miserably, polaris made camp in one of these depressions where the deep snow tempered the chill of its foundation. in the clutch of the churning waters the floe turned slowly like an immense wheel as it drifted in the current. its course was away from the shore to the southwest, and it gathered speed and momentum with every passing second. the cove from whence it had been torn was already a mere notch in the faraway shore line. around them was a scene of wild and compelling beauty. leagues and leagues of on-rushing water hurled its white-crested squadrons against the precipitous sides of the flotilla of icebergs, tore at the edges of the drifting floes, and threw itself in huge waves across the more level planes, inundating them repeatedly. clouds of lacelike spray hung in the air after each attack, and cascading torrents returned to the waves. above it all the antarctic sun shone gloriously, splintering its golden spears on the myriad pinnacles, minarets, battlements, and crags of towering masses of crystal that reflected back into the quivering air all the colors of the spectrum. thinner crests blazed flame-red in the rays. other points glittered coldly blue. from a thousand lesser scintillating spires the shifting play of the colors, from vermilion to purple, from green to gold, in the lavish magnificence of nature's magic, was torture to the eye that beheld. on the spine of the ridge stood polaris, leaning on his long spear and gazing with heightened color and gleaming eyes on those fairy symbols of old mother nature. to the girl who watched him he seemed to complete the picture. in his superb trappings of furs, and surrounded by his shaggy servants, he was at one with his weird and terrible surroundings. she admired--and shuddered. presently, when he came down from the ridge, she asked him, with a brave smile, "what, sir, will be the next move?" "that is in the hands of the great god, if such a one there be," he said. "whatever it may be, it shall find us ready. somewhere we must come to shore. when we do--on to the north and the ship, be it half a world away." "but for food and warmth? we must have those, if we are to go in the flesh." "already they are provided for," he replied quickly. he was peering sharply over her shoulder toward the mass of the other berg. with his words the clustered pack set up an angry snarling and baying. she followed his glance and paled. lumbering forth from a narrow pass at the extremity of the ridge was a gigantic polar bear. his little eyes glittered wickedly, hungrily, and his long, red tongue crept out and licked his slavering chops. as he came on, with ungainly, padding gait, his head swung ponderously to and fro. scarcely had he cleared the pass of his immense bulk when another twitching white muzzle was protruded, and a second beast, in size nearly equal to the first, set foot on the ridge and ambled on to the attack. reckless at least of this peril, the dogs would have leaped forward to close with the invaders but their master intervened. the stinging, cracking lash in his hand drove them from the foe. their overlord, man, elected to make the battle alone. in two springs he reached the sledge, tore the rifle from its coverings, and was at the side of the girl. he thrust the weapon into her hands. "back, lady; back to the sledge!" he cried. "unless i call, shoot not. if you do shoot, aim for the throat when they rear, and leave the rest to me and the dogs. many times have i met these enemies, and i know well how to deal with them." with another crack of the whip over the heads of the snarling pack, he left her and bounded forward, spear in hand and long knife bared. awkward of pace and unhurried, the snow kings came on to their feast. in a thought the man chose his ground. between him and the bears the ridge narrowed so that for a few feet there was footway for but one of the monsters at once. polaris ran to where that narrow path began and threw himself on his face on the ice. at that ruse the foremost bear hesitated. he reared and brushed his muzzle with his formidable crescent-clawed paw. polaris might have shot then and ended at once the hardest part of his battle. but the man held to a stubborn pride in his own weapons. both of the beasts he would slay, if he might, as he always had slain. his guns were reserved for dire extremity. the bear settled to all fours again, and reached out a cautious paw and felt along the path, its claws gouging seams in the ice. assured that the footing would hold, it crept out on the narrow way, nearer and nearer to the motionless man. scarce a yard from him it squatted. the steam of its breath beat toward him. it raised one armed paw to strike. the girl cried out in terror and raised the rifle. the man moved, and she hesitated. down came the terrible paw, its curved claws projected and compressed for the blow. it struck only the adamantine ice of the pathway, splintering it. with the down stroke timed to the second, the man had leaped up and forward. as though set on a steel spring, he vaulted into the air, above the clashing talons and gnashing jaws, and landed light and sure on the back of his ponderous adversary. to pass an arm under the bear's throat, to clip its back with the grip of his legs was the work of a heart-beat's time for polaris. with a stifled howl of rage the bear rose to its haunches, and the man rose with it. he gave it no time to turn or settle. exerting his muscles of steel, he tugged the huge head back. he swung clear from the body of his foe. his feet touched the path and held it. he shot one knee into the back of the bear. the spear he had dropped when he sprang, but his long knife gleamed in his hand, and he stabbed, once, twice, sending the blade home under the brute's shoulder. he released his grip; spurned the yielding body with his foot, and the huge hulk rolled from the path down the slope, crimsoning the snow with its blood. polaris bounded across the narrow ledge and regained his spear. he smiled as there arose from the foot of the slope a hideous clamor that told him that the pack had charged in, as usual, not to be restrained at sight of the kill. he waved his hand to the girl, who stood, statuelike, beside the sledge. doubly enraged at its inability to participate in the battle which had been the death of its mate, the smaller bear waited no longer when the path was clear, but rushed madly with lowered head. strong as he was, the man knew that he could not hope to stay or turn that avalanche of flesh and sinew. as it reached him he sprang aside where the path broadened, lashing out with his keen-edged spear. his aim was true. just over one of the small eyes the point of the spear bit deep, and blood followed it. with tigerish agility the man leaped over the beast, striking down as he did so. the bear reared on its hindquarters and whimpered, brushing at its eyes with its forepaws. its head gashed so that the flowing blood blinded it, it was beaten. before it stood its master. bending back until his body arched like a drawn bow, polaris poised his spear and thrust home at the broad chest. a death howl that was echoed back from the crashing cliffs was answer to his stroke. the bear settled forward and sprawled in the snow. polaris set his foot on the body of the fallen monster and gazed down at the girl with smiling face. "here, lady, are food and warmth for many days," he called. under the ocean to the south pole or the strange cruise of the submarine wonder by roy rockwood author of "through the air to the north pole," "the rival ocean divers," "a schoolboy's pluck," etc. illustrated new york cupples & leon co. good books for boys by roy rockwood * * * * * =the great marvel series= through the air to the north pole or the wonderful cruise of the electric monarch under the ocean to the south pole or the strange cruise of the submarine wonder cloth. illustrated copyright, 1907, by cupples & leon co. * * * * * under the ocean to the south pole contents chapter page i. will the ship work? 1 ii. a land of ice 10 iii. running down a war ship 19 iv. in the midst of fire 27 v. a grave accusation 35 vi. on a runaway trolley 43 vii. off for the south pole 52 viii. ashore in the dark 60 ix. a price on their heads 68 x. attacked by a monster 75 xi. caught in a sea of grass 84 xii. fire on board 92 xiii. the ghost of the submarine 100 xiv. digging out the ship 108 xv. the strange shipwreck 117 xvi. the ghost again 126 xvii. attacked by savages 134 xviii. on land 143 xix. regaining the ship 152 xx. on a volcanic island 160 xxi. caught in a whirlpool 169 xxii. under fire 177 xxiii. caught in an ice floe 185 xxiv. the ship graveyard 193 xxv. caught by sea suckers 201 xxvi. land under ice 211 xxvii. attacked by an octupus 220 xxviii. out of the ice 228 xxix. the boiling water 235 xxx. the south pole--conclusion 240 under the ocean to the south pole chapter i will the ship work? "hand me that wrench, mark," called professor amos henderson to a boy who stood near some complicated machinery over which the old man was working. the lad passed the tool over. "do you think the ship will work, professor?" he asked. "i hope so, mark, i hope so," muttered the scientist as he tightened some bolts on what was perhaps the strangest combination of apparatus that had ever been put together. "there is no reason why she should not, and yet--" the old man paused. perhaps he feared that, after all, the submarine boat on which he had labored continuously for more than a year would be a failure. "is there anything more i can do now?" asked mark. "not right away," replied the professor, without looking up from the work he was doing. "but i wish you and jack would be around in about an hour. i am going to start the engine then, and i'll need you. if you see washington outside send him to me." mark left the big room where the submarine boat had been in process of construction so long. outside he met a boy about his own age, who was cleaning a rifle. "how's it going, mark?" asked this second youth, who was rather fat, and, if one could judge by his face, of a jolly disposition. "the professor is going to try the engine in about an hour," replied mark. "we must be on hand." "i'll be there all right. but if there isn't anything else to do, let's shoot at a target. i'll bet i can beat you." "bet you can't. wait 'till i get my gun." "now don't yo' boys go to disportin' yo'seves in any disproportionable anticipation ob transposin' dem molecules of lead in a contigious direction to yo' humble servant!" exclaimed a colored man, coming from behind the big shed at that moment, and seeing mark and jack with their rifles. "i s'pose you mean to say, washington," remarked jack, "that you don't care to be shot at. is that it?" "neber said nuffin truer in all yo' born days!" exclaimed washington earnestly. "de infliction ob distress to de exterior portion ob--" "the professor wants you," interrupted mark, cutting off the colored man's flow of language. "yo' mind what i tole yo'," washington muttered as he hurried into the work room. soon the reports of rifles indicated that the boys were trying to discover who was the best shot, a contest that waged with friendly interest for some time. the big shed, where the submarine ship was being built, was located at a lonely spot on the coast of maine. the nearest town was easton, about ten miles away, and professor henderson had fixed on this location as one best suited to give him a chance to work secretly and unobserved on his wonderful invention. the professor was a man about sixty-five years old, and, while of simple and kindly nature in many ways, yet, on the subjects of airships and submarines, he possessed a fund of knowledge. he was somewhat queer, as many persons may be who devote all their thoughts to one object, yet he was a man of fine character. some time before this story opens he had invented an electric airship in which he, with mark sampson, jack darrow and the colored man, washington white, had made a trip to the frozen north. their adventures on that journey are told of in the first volume of this series, entitled, "through the air to the north pole, or, the wonderful cruise of the _electric monarch_." the two boys, mark then being fifteen and jack a year older, had met the professor under peculiar circumstances. they were orphans, and, after knocking about the world a bit, had chanced to meet each other. they agreed to seek together such fortune as might chance to come to them. while in the town of freeport, n. y., they were driven away by a constable, who said tramps were not allowed in the village. the boys jumped on a freight train, which broke in two and ran away down the mountain, and the lads were knocked senseless in the wreck that followed. as it chanced professor henderson had erected nearby a big shop, where he was building his airship. he and washington were on hand when the wreck occurred and they took the senseless boys to the airship shed. the boys, after their recovery, accepted the invitation of the professor to go on a search for the north pole. as the airship was about to start andy sudds, an old hunter, and two men, tom smith and bill jones, who had been called in to assist at the flight, held on too long and were carried aloft. somewhat against their will the three latter made the trip, for the professor did not want to return to earth with them. the party had many adventures on the voyage, having to fight savage animals and more savage esquimaux. they reached the north pole, but in the midst of such a violent storm that the ship was overturned, and the discovery of the long-sought goal availed little. after many hardships, and a fierce fight to recover the possession of the ship, which had been seized by natives, the adventurers reached home. since then a little over a year had passed. the professor, having found he could successfully navigate the air, turned his attention to the water, and began to plan a craft that would sail beneath the ocean. to this end he had moved his machine shop to this lonely spot on the maine coast. the two boys, who had grown no less fond of the old man than he of them, went with him, as did washington white, the negro, who was a genius in his way, though somewhat inclined to use big words, of the meaning of which he knew little and cared less. andy sudds, the old hunter, had also been induced to accompany the professor. "i hunted game up north and in the air," said andy, "and if there's a chance to shoot something under the water i'm the one to do it." needing more assistance than either the boys, andy or washington could give, the professor had engaged two young machinists, who, under a strict promise never to divulge any of the secrets of the submarine, had labored in its building. now the queer craft was almost finished. as it rested on the ways in the shed, it looked exactly like a big cigar, excepting that the top part was level, forming a platform. the ship, which had been named the _porpoise_, was eighty feet long, and twenty feet in diameter at the largest part. from that it tapered gradually, until the ends were reached. these consisted of flattened plates about three feet in diameter, with a hole in the center one foot in size. weary months of labor had been spent on the _porpoise_, until now it was almost ready for a trial. the professor had discovered a new method of propulsion. instead of propellers or paddle-wheels, he intended to send his craft ahead or to the rear, by means of a water cable. through the entire length of the ship ran a round hole or shaft, one foot in diameter. within this was an endless screw worked by powerful engines. with a working model the professor had demonstrated that when the endless screw was revolved it acted on the water just as another sort of screw does in wood. the water coming in through the shaft served as a rope, so to speak, and the screw, acting on it, pulled the craft ahead or to the rear, according to the direction in which the screw was revolved. the submarine was a wonderful craft. it contained a powerful engine, electric motors and dynamos, and machinery of all kinds. the engine was a turbine, and steam was generated from heat furnished by the burning of a powerful gas, manufactured from sea water and chemicals. so there was no need to carry a supply of coal on the ship. the interior of the vessel was divided into an engine-room, a kitchen, combination dining-room and parlor, bunk rooms, and a conning tower, or place for the steersman. while the boys had been shooting at the target the professor and washington had been putting the finishing touches to the engine, tightening nuts here and screwed up bolts there. "i guess that will do," remarked the old inventor. "call the boys, washington." the colored man went to the door and gave three blasts on a battered horn that hung from a string. "coming!" called mark, as he and jack ceased their marksmanship contest and approached the shed. "now boys, we'll see if she works so far," said the professor. "if she does, we'll give her a trial under water." at the inventor's directions the boys started the gas to generating from the chemicals. soon the hissing of steam told them that there was power in the boiler. the professor entered the engine-room of the submarine. he looked over the various wheels, levers, handles, gages and attachments, satisfying himself that all were in proper shape and position. "three hundred pounds pressure," he muttered, glancing at the steam indicator. "that ought to be enough. are you all ready, boys?" "all ready!" cried jack. of course the test was only one to see if the engine worked, for the boat could not move until in the water. the professor opened a valve. the steam filled the turbine with a hiss and throb. the _porpoise_ trembled. then, with a cough and splutter of the exhaust pipes, the engine started. slowly it went at first, but, as the professor admitted more steam, it revolved the long screw until it fairly hummed in the shaft. "hurrah! it works!" cried mark. "it does!" chimed in jack. "gollyation! she suttinly am goin'!" yelled washington. "i think we may say it is a success," said the professor calmly, yet there was a note of exultation in his voice. "now that you've got her started, when are you goin' to put her in the water an' scoot along under the waves?" asked andy sudds. "in about a week," replied the professor. "and where are you goin' to head for?" went on the hunter. "we're going under the ocean to the south pole!" exclaimed the inventor, as he shut off the engine. chapter ii a land of ice "the south pole?" exclaimed mark. "way down dat way!" cried washington. "can you do it?" asked jack. "that remains to be seen," replied the professor, answering them all at once. "i'm going to try, at any rate." "hurrah!" yelled mark. "it will be better than going to the north pole, for we will be in no danger of freezing to death." "don't be so sure of that," interrupted the professor. "there is more ice at the south pole than at the north, according to all accounts. it is a place of great icebergs, immense floes and cold fogs. but there is land beyond the ice, i believe, and i am going to try to find it." "it will be a longer voyage than to the north pole," said jack. "jest de same," argued washington, "de poles am at each end ob de world." "yes, but we're quite a way north of the equator now, and we'll have to cross that before we will be half way to the south pole," explained jack. "but i guess the _porpoise_ can make good time." "if the engine behaves under water as well as it did just now, we'll skim along," said the professor. "and so you figure there's land down there to the south, do you?" asked old andy. "i do," replied the inventor. "i can't prove it, but i'm sure there is. i have read all the accounts of other explorers and from the signs they mention i am positive we shall find land if we ever get there. land and an open sea." "and other things as well," muttered andy, yet neither he nor any of them dreamed of the terrible and strange adventures they were to have. the next few days were busy ones. many little details remained to perfect in connection with the ship, and a lot of supplies and provisions had to be purchased, for the professor was determined to get all in readiness for the trip under the water. he believed firmly that his ship would work, though some of the others were not so positive. "we'll put her into the water to-morrow," announced the inventor after supper one night. "everything is complete as far as i can make it, and the only thing remaining is to see if she will float, sink when i want her to, and, what is most important, rise to the surface again. for," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "anybody can make a ship that will sink, but it isn't every one who can make one that will come to the surface again." "golly! i hope dis chile ain't goin' to git in no subicecream ship what'll stay down under de water so de fishes gits him!" exclaimed washington, opening his eyes wide. "dat's worser dan freezin!" "can't you swim?" asked mark with a wink at jack. "co'se i can swim, boy. i can swim like a starfish, but i can't wif ten thousand tons of a subicecream ship on my back." "a sub-ice-cream ship is a new one," commented the professor with a smile. "it's a submarine, washington." "i can't see no difference," persisted the colored man. "subicecream am good enough for me." that night mark and jack were thinking so much of the proposed test of the ship the next day that they each dreamed they were sailing beneath the waves, and jack woke mark up by grabbing him about the neck during a particularly vivid part of the vision. "what's the matter?" inquired mark, sleepily. "i thought the ship turned over and spilled me out and i was drowning," explained jack. "i grabbed the first thing i got hold of and it happened to be you." "well, as long as you're safe you can go to sleep again," said mark. "i dreamed i was chasing a whale with the _porpoise_." the boys were up early the next morning, and found the professor and washington before them. the inventor was inspecting the track which had been built from the shed down to the water's edge to enable the _porpoise_ to slide into the ocean. with him were the two machinists, henry watson and james penson. they had been busy since daylight making the ways secure. "she goes in after breakfast," announced the professor, "and i'm going to let you christen her, washington." "me? i neber christened a ship," objected the colored man. "nothing like learning," remarked mr. henderson. "has you got the bottle ob wine?" asked washington. "i guess soda water will do," said the inventor. "now look sharp, boys. get your breakfasts and we'll see if the ship will come up to our expectations." no one lingered over the meal. when it was finished the professor gave washington a few instructions about breaking the bottle over the nose of the _porpoise_ as she slid down to the water, for there was no bow to such a queerly shaped vessel as the submarine. at last all was in readiness. the two machinists knocked away the last of the retaining blocks and eased the ship slightly down the well-greased timbers of the ways. "there she goes!" cried the professor. "break the bottle, washington!" "in de name ob de stars an' stripes, in de name of liberty, de home of the free an' de land ob de brave, i names yo' _mrs. porpoise_!" cried the colored man, but he was so long getting the words out, and so slow in swinging the bottle of soda, that the ship was quite beyond his reach when he had finished his oration. he was not to be outdone, however, and, with a quick movement he hurled the bottle at the moving ship. it struck the blunt nose squarely, and shivered to pieces. "three cheers for de south pole!" yelled washington, and the others joined in. the next instant the _porpoise_ was riding the waves of the little bay, dancing about as lightly as a cork, though, from the nature of her construction, she was quite low in the water, only about three feet of freeboard showing where the platform was located. "well, she floats, anyhow," remarked the professor. "row out and fasten cables fore and aft," he went on, turning to the two machinists. in a few minutes the _porpoise_ was fastened to a small dock with strong ropes the two young men had carried out to her in rowboats. "we will go aboard in a little while," the professor said. "i am anxious to see if she rides on an even keel and how the sinking tanks work." aided by the boys, he and washington carried on board a number of tools and appliances. then, with the two machinists, they all descended into the interior of the craft through the small manhole in the middle of the deck or platform. inside the _porpoise_, the greater part of which was below the surface of the waves and consequently in darkness, the professor switched on the electric lights and then he proceeded to get up steam. the propelling power of the craft has already been described. in order to make the ship sink beneath the water all that was necessary was to incline the rudder and open certain valves in the four tanks, when the water, rushing in, would sink her. there was a tank on either side, and one each fore and aft. if it was desired to sink straight down all four tanks were filled at once. if the professor wanted to descend slanting either to the front or back, only one of the end tanks was filled, according to the direction desired. the deflecting rudder also aided greatly in this movement. to cause the ship to rise the tanks were emptied of the water by means of powerful pumps. the filling of the tanks, as well as the emptying of them, the starting or stopping of the engine that moved the boat, as well as the control of most of the important machinery on the craft could be accomplished from the conning or steering tower, as well as from the engine-room. there were numerous gages to tell the depth to which the ship had sunk, the steam pressure, density of the water, and other necessary details. there were dynamos to make light, motors to run the pumps, and a great storage battery, so that in case of a breakdown to the turbine engine the craft could be run entirely by electricity for a time. the cooking was all done by this useful current, and all that was necessary to make a cup of coffee or fry a beefsteak was to turn a small switch of the electric stove. the professor was busy over the machine for generating gas, that furnished the heat to create steam. soon a hissing told that it was working. in a few minutes the hum and throb of the engine told that it was ready to start. "we are only going down a little way," the professor said, "and only going to travel a short distance under water for the first time. i think there is no danger, but if any of you want to back out, now is your chance." no one seemed inclined to withdraw, though mark said afterward he thought washington got as pale as it is possible for a colored man to get. "we will all put on life preservers," the inventor went on, "and one of you will be stationed near the emergency exit. in case anything goes wrong, and i cannot make the ship rise, by pulling the lever the top of the craft will be forced off, and, we can at least save our lives. i think we are all ready now. mark, you clamp down the manhole cover, and jack, after you close the conning tower station yourself at the emergency lever after we have donned the life preservers." the cork jackets were adjusted and mark clamped the manhole cover on. the professor took one last look at the various levers and handles, and then turned the wheel that admitted water to all four tanks. there was a hissing sound as the sea water rushed in, and the _porpoise_ gave a sudden lurch. then they could all feel the submarine sinking. down and down she went. would she ever stop? would the professor be able to raise her again? there were questions that troubled everyone. down and down the craft sunk, until by the gage it was indicated that she was twenty feet below the surface. then the professor shut off the inrush of water and the _porpoise_ floated away below the surface of the waves. there was a clicking sound and all the lights went out. the boys and washington gave a gasp of terror. what did the sudden blackness mean. "open the side windows," called the professor's voice, and the two machinists obeyed. heavy steel doors that covered plate glass windows in either side of the craft were pulled back, and a cry of astonishment broke from the boys. they looked out and saw staring in at them, so close it seemed that they could touch them, scores of fishes that looked in through the glass bull's-eyes. for the first time they realized that they were in the depths of the ocean. chapter iii running down a warship "how do you like it?" asked the professor. "great!" exclaimed jack. "fine!" cried mark. "it am simply coslostrousness!" exploded washington. "'nebber in all my born days did i eber expansionate on such a sight!" "wish i had a fishing pole and line," remarked andy sudds. "there's some pretty nice specimens out there." "you'll see better ones than those before we finish our trip to the pole," remarked the professor. "now we will try moving forward. i am going into the conning tower." he turned on the lights once more, but the boys begged him to shut them off, as they could see out into the ocean when the interior of the ship was in darkness. so the professor obliged them. in the tower he switched on the powerful searchlight that illuminated the path in front of him. then he started the engine, slowly at first, and gradually increasing the speed. the _porpoise_ forged ahead, riding as evenly as an ordinary ship does on the surface. the professor steered her about in a large circle, bringing her back to the starting point. she worked as smoothly as if she had been used to under-water service for years. "now," said the inventor, "we will see if we can go up to the surface again," and there came a little note of anxiety into his voice. he slowed down the engine and started the powerful pumps that were to empty the tanks. for a moment there was a feeling of terror in the hearts of all. would the pumps work? then, slowly but surely, those aboard the _porpoise_ felt her beginning to rise. up and up she went as the tanks were emptied and the ship lightened. then, with a bounce like a rubber ball, the submarine shot upward to the surface and lay undulating on the waves caused by her emergence from the depths. "hurrah!" shouted jack. "we're all right!" "we shore am!" exclaimed washington. "it's a success!" professor henderson almost whispered. "the pumps worked. the _porpoise_ has fulfilled my greatest expectations!" then he steered the ship back to the dock, where she was moored, and the adventurers disembarked. "one or two little details to attend to, and we'll be ready for the great trip," remarked the professor. "i want to give her a little harder trial before i trust her, though she seems to be first-rate." they all went back to the combined machine shop and cabin, where they had lived during the building of the submarine. dinner was prepared and, after the meal the two machinists approached the professor. "i don't suppose you need us any more," remarked henry watson. "the ship is finished as far as we can do anything, and we may as well leave now. we have an offer to go to work in an electrical shop." "i haven't said much to you about my plans," the professor replied, "but if you would like to remain in my employ, i can promise you an interesting trip." "thank you, but i prefer to work above ground," said james pensen. "you have been very kind to us, and we would do anything we could for, but we don't want to take any long under-ocean trips if we can help it." "very well," answered the professor, though he seemed disappointed. "i will pay you what i owe you and you can go." for some time after the departure of the two young machinists the inventor seemed worried. "did you count on them staying with you?" asked mark. "i rather hoped they would," replied mr. henderson. "we need two more hands if we are to make the trip. they need not be machinists, but we will have to have someone, and i don't like to get strangers. they might talk too much about the ship." at that instant there came a rap on the door. washington answered it. "yas sir, perfesser henderson done lib here," he replied, in answer to a question from some one. "but he am bery busy jest at de present occasioness an' he'll be most extremely discommodated if yo' obtrude yo' presence on him at de conglomeration ob de statutory limitations, which am to say right now. come again!" "it's the same old washington!" said someone outside, laughing heartily. "just you tell the professor we want to see him most particular." at the sound of the voice the professor started and mark and jack wondered where they had heard it before. "show the gentlemen in, washington," called the inventor. "dere's two ob 'em," objected the colored man. "show them both in, then." washington opened the door of the cabin, and in came two men, who seemed much amused over something. "what can i do for you?" asked the professor, in rather a sharp voice. "he don't know us either, tom," remarked the taller of the two. "if it ain't bill jones and tom smith!" exclaimed andy sudds. "wa'al i'll be horn swoggled. where'd ye come from?" "right from the farm," replied bill. "and we've had a hard job locating you. i guess washington didn't know us since we raised beards," and bill stroked his wealth of brown whiskers. "and i guess we sort of fooled the professor," went on bill, "eh, tom?" "right!" said tom. "you see," he went on, "the farming business is almost over, as its coming on fall now, so bill and i thought it would be a good time to hunt up the professor. we heard he was down in this neighborhood so we come by easy stages. we didn't have any time to stop and make our toilets, hence our beards." "you've come at the right time," remarked the inventor, as he came forward to welcome the two young men. "do you remember the trip you made with me to the north pole?" "i guess we'll not forget it in a hurry," replied bill. "that's what made us hunt you up," put in tom. "we hoped you might have something similar on foot." "i have," answered the inventor. "what is it?" "a trip under the ocean!" for an instant the two young men hesitated. it was a new proposition to them. yet they recalled that they had come safely back from the journey through the air. "do you want to go along as part of the crew?" asked the inventor, after some further conversation. "you can count on me!" cried bill. "and if bill goes i'll go too!" exclaimed tom. "under the seas or over the seas, it'll be all one to us if professor henderson sails the ship!" went on bill. "we'll go!" "good!" ejaculated the professor. "you certainly came at just the right time." as tom smith and bill jones were hungry a hasty meal was prepared for them, during the eating of which they told of their experiences since landing from the airship. they had been on a farm until fired with a desire to go roving once more. for the next few days the professor, the boys, and the other four were busy making some improvements to the _porpoise_. tom and bill were much astonished at their first sight of the queer craft, but they soon became accustomed to her, and said they preferred her to the airship. "to-morrow we are going on a little longer trip than our first trial," announced the inventor one evening. "we will be gone all day if nothing happens to make the stay more lengthy," he added grimly. "so, washington, put plenty to eat aboard." a little later, when supplies had been put on the _porpoise_, and the machinery well overhauled, the professor explained that he intended making a trip, entirely under water, from the dock in the cove to a point off the massachusetts coast and return. early the next morning all were aboard. to each one was assigned a particular station. washington, with mark as an assistant, was in the engine-room. jack was to watch the various gages and registers to give warning of any danger. the professor, of course, would be in the conning tower and operate the craft. andy was to be with him, to watch out, with his sharp eyes, for any danger that might loom up in the path of the searchlight. tom and bill were to be ready to help where needed. with a hissing sound the water filled the tanks and the _porpoise_ sunk beneath the waves. the engine that worked the endless screw was started, and the threads, working on the water cable, shot the boat ahead. "we're off!" yelled washington. about sixty feet below the surface the craft was sent along. mile after mile was covered as shown by the patent log. the lights were turned off, and through the thick plate glass windows the strange inhabitants of the sea were observed. "i think i'll go a little nearer the surface," said the professor to andy. the inventor started the pumps that emptied the tanks. the craft rose slightly. "quick! stop her!" shouted the old hunter, grasping the captain's arm. something black, like a grim shadow, loomed up in the dull glare of the searchlight. "what is it?" cried the professor. "we're goin' to hit somethin' hard!" yelled andy. "it's the hull of a ship!" exclaimed the inventor as he jammed the reversing lever hard over. it was too late. the next instant the _porpoise_, with a shock that made her shiver from stem to stern, collided with the steel side of a small warship. chapter iv in the midst of fire "pull the secondary emergency lever!" cried the professor through the speaking tube to washington. "we must reach the surface at once!" "are we damaged?" asked andy, scrambling to his feet, for the shock had knocked him down. the professor had not fallen because he clung to the steering wheel. the ship gave a sudden lurch. "we're sinking!" cried bill, rushing to the conning tower from the engine-room. "that's only the action of one of the emergency levers," said the professor calmly. "it forces compressed air into the tanks the more quickly to empty them of water. i think we are safe." "what is it?" asked mark, as, followed by jack, he came forward. "we tried to do the torpedo act to one of uncle sam's ships," explained andy. the electric lights had been switched on, and, with the _porpoise_ flooded with the bright beams, those on board waited anxiously for what was to happen next. suddenly an upward motion was experienced. the next instant the craft bounced out of the water and fell back in a smother of foam, shaking and shivering, alongside a small armored warship that was anchored about two miles and a half from shore. "open the manhole," commanded mr. henderson. mark sprang up the iron ladder that led to the opening in the deck of the _porpoise_ and threw back the cams that held the heavy iron in place. then he swung the cover back and stepped out on the small platform, followed by the professor, andy and jack. they looked up to find themselves observed by a curious throng that crowded to the rail of the warship. [illustration: a curious throng crowded to the rail of the warship.--_page 28._] "what are you trying to do? ram me with a new-fangled torpedo?" asked an angry voice, and a man in a gold laced uniform, who, from his importance plainly showed himself to be the captain of the ship, shook his fist at mr. henderson. "i might ask what right your ship has to get in my path," replied the inventor. "it was all an accident." "mighty queer," muttered the naval commander. "looks very suspicious. how do i know but what you're a torpedo from some foreign nation?" "because this is not a torpedo," replied mr. henderson. "it is a new submarine boat of my invention, and i was giving it a trial spin." "i guess you'd better come aboard and do your explaining," went on the captain. "i don't like the looks of things. lower a boat!" he shouted, "and bring those chaps to my cabin. i want to question them." it did not suit professor henderson to have his plans upset in this fashion. nor did he care to give a detailed description of his ship to officers of the war department. he had many valuable inventions that were not patented. so he determined to outwit the pompous commander of the cruiser. the noise made in preparing the small boat for lowering over the side of the big ship could be plainly heard. "go below, all of you, and as quietly as you can," whispered mr. henderson. andy, mark and jack obeyed. at that instant the side of the warship was almost deserted, for the sailors who had gathered to observe the _porpoise_ had gone to lower the small boat. no sooner had jack, who was in the rear, disappeared through the manhole than the professor, with a quick jump, followed him. "here! come back!" shouted the warship's captain as he saw mr. henderson's head disappearing from view. "come back i say!" but with a quick movement the inventor pulled down the manhole cover and clamped it. then he sprang to the conning tower, and, with a jerk, opened the levers that admitted water to the tanks. the _porpoise_ began to sink slowly, and then more suddenly, so that, in less than a minute, she was out of sight beneath the waves, and the angry, gold-laced captain was staring in wonderment at the place where the submarine had been. the spot was marked only by a few bubbles and some foam. "i guess he'll wait some time for an explanation," spoke mr. henderson, as he started the big screw and sent the _porpoise_ ahead at a swift pace. "that was rather a narrow escape," observed jack, standing at the foot of the conning tower stairs and talking to andy and mr. henderson, who was steering. "it certainly was," agreed the professor. "i have not yet become used to seeing things very far ahead in the dimness caused by being under water. but we'll soon get used to it. luckily, the _porpoise_ was not damaged by the shock." for several hours the _porpoise_ was kept on her course. she behaved handsomely, and nothing excepting slight and easily remedied defects were found. the professor steered well out to sea, increasing both the forward speed and the depth to which the vessel sank. presently the craft came to a stop with a little jolt. "what's the trouble?" asked mark, somewhat alarmed. "nothing at all," replied the professor with a smile, as he stepped out of the conning tower and entered the engine-room. "i thought it was time for dinner so i stopped the ship. we are now resting on the ocean bed, about half a mile below the surface. look!" as he spoke he slid back the slides covering the plate glass windows. the boys saw that the ship rested in the midst of an immense forest of sea weed. some of the stalks were as large around as trees. in and out among the snake-like, waving branches swam big fishes. it was a weird, but beautiful sight. "come, washington, serve dinner," ordered mr. henderson, and the colored man soon had a good meal prepared. few repasts have been eaten under such strange circumstances. desiring to be back at his secluded dock by nightfall, captain henderson soon started the _porpoise_ up again. without any accidents the return trip was made and by nine o'clock the _porpoise_ rode safely at the dock where she had been launched. the night was spent in the cabin on shore. early the next morning mr. henderson paid a visit to the ship, to make a thorough examination by daylight, and see if the craft had suffered any damage. "i think you and mark will have to make a trip to town," he said to jack at the breakfast table. "i need a new monkey wrench and some other tools and some small pieces of machinery. i'll give you a list of them, and you can bring them back in a valise, for they will be quite numerous." after the meal the inventor made a record of what he needed and the boys started off. "in case the machine shop does not have everything and you have to wait for something, you had better stay in the town all night," the captain of the _porpoise_ said. "it is quite a long trip and i don't want you traveling after dark. put up at the hotel if you are delayed." provided with money for their purchase, and a large valise in which to carry them, the boys started off. they had to walk two miles to where a trolley line was built that ran to the town of easton, where they were to get the tools and parts of machinery. they made the trip safely and without incident. when they gave the machinist, to whom they had been directed by mr. henderson, the list of the things needed, the man looked puzzled. "i'll have to make one piece," he said. "you'll have to wait for it. can't promise it before to-morrow morning about eight o'clock." "that will be all right," remarked mark. "we'll call for it then." so, bearing in mind mr. henderson's instructions, the boys engaged a room at the hotel, which was quite a large one, for easton was a favorite summer resort and the town was filled with visitors. the lads strolled about the town, had their dinner, and then went for a bath in the surf. they retired early, for they were tired. in the middle of the night mark began to dream that he was on board the _porpoise_ and that the submarine blew up. there was a loud noise, he saw a bright flash of flame, and saw rolling clouds of smoke. so vivid was the vision that he thought he tried to leap out of the boat, and awoke with a jump, to find jack shaking him. "what's the matter?" inquired mark. "the hotel's on fire!" shouted jack. mark sprang out of bed and with jack rushed to the window, for their room was filled with thick smoke. they could see the dull glare of flames, which every moment were becoming brighter. the next instant a loud explosion shook the building. it swayed and seemed likely to topple over. outside the boys could hear excited shouts and the puffing and whistling of fire engines. "quick! run!" yelled mark. he opened the door leading into the corridor, but was driven back by a rush of flames and smoke that almost stifled him. "we must try the fire escape!" shouted mark. "don't forget the valise with the tools;" exclaimed jack, and mark hastened to where he had placed it under the bed. then the two boys rushed to the balcony on which their front windows opened, and whence the fire escapes led down to the streets. the lads had only time to slip on their coats, trousers, shoes and caps. as they were preparing to clamber down the iron ladders they heard someone on the balcony next to them shout: "here, you boys! stop! i want you!" chapter v a grave accusation "we haven't time now!" yelled back mark, looking in the direction of the voice, and seeing a short, stout man, who appeared greatly excited. "stop or i'll shoot!" the man exclaimed. "the fire must have made him crazy," said jack. "go on, mark, it's getting hot up above!" mark did not linger on the ladder and soon the two boys were in the street, surrounded by an excited crowd. "are you hurt?" asked several. "i guess not," replied mark. "what caused the fire?" "some sort of an explosion," answered a policeman. "part of the hotel was blown up. if you boys wish you can go to a station house where you'll be comfortable until morning." "i guess we will," said mark. they started to work their way through the crowd but did not notice that the strange man followed them. the fire was now burning fiercely, and once they had gotten clear of the press the lads halted to look at the spectacle. the hotel was now a mass of flames and the firemen were kept busy. what with the puffing of engines, the whistling of the steamers, the roar of the flames, and the shouts of the crowd, pandemonium reigned. the boys watched the fire for some time. gradually the flames came under the control of the men and the leaping tongues died out. "i guess we'd better go to the police station," suggested jack. mark agreed this would be a good thing to do, as both of them felt rather chilly in the night air with only half of their clothes on. they inquired their way of the first policeman they saw, and he volunteered to escort them. "sure an' you'll have plenty of company," he said. "the hotel was full an' the people have no place to go except to the lock-up. some swells will be glad to take a place behind the bars to-night i'm thinkin'. i wonder how some of those english aristocrats will like it?" "english aristocrats?" repeated jack. "are any here?" "sure. there's a lot of them burned out. lord peckham was stoppin' at the hotel with a big crowd of people, an' their apartments was all destroyed. some of 'em went to the police station." the boys followed their uniformed guide through the streets of easton, and were soon at the station house. there they were received by the sergeant in charge, while the matron gave them each a cup of hot coffee, a large pot of the beverage having been brewed. "i'll have to give you boys one bed between you," said the sergeant. "we're rather crowded for room to-night." "anything will do us," said jack with a laugh. just then there was some excitement at the entrance of the police station. "i tell you they're in here! i will see them!" a voice exclaimed. "i want them arrested at once!" "go easy now," counseled the doorman as he tried to hold back a short, stout, excited man who was pushing his way into the station. "there they are!" exclaimed the man, pointing to jack and mark. "why those boys are from the burned hotel," said the doorman. "i know it! they are the very ones i want!" "what do you of us?" spoke up mark. he recognized the man as the one who had called to him as he and jack were escaping. "i charge you with being sons of james darrow, the notorious english anarchist!" cried the little man, pointing his finger at the boys, "and i accuse you of trying to kill lord peckham with a bomb, the explosion of which set fire to the hotel!" for a moment the surprising charge so astonished every one that not a word was said. then the little man, advancing toward the boys went on: "i arrest you in the name of his royal highness, edward vii, king of england, scotland and wales." he threw back the lapel of his coat and showed a badge. "king of england, scotland and wales, is it!" exclaimed the doorman with a twinkle in his eye. "an' why didn't ye say ireland into the bargain." "ireland, of course," went on the little man. "i'm an officer of his most gracious majesty," he added, "and i demand the assistance of the united states authorities in general and the police of easton in particular in taking these desperate criminals into custody!" "hold your horses," advised the desk-sergeant. "those boys are not liable to run away. they're to stay here over night, and if you have any charge to make against them why you'll have to come and see the judge in the morning." "but they are sons of an anarchist! they are anarchists themselves!" exclaimed the man, "i must arrest them!" "you're not going to arrest anybody," said the sergeant, "until you get a warrant from the judge. this isn't england." "then i'm going to stay with these boys the rest of the night," insisted the man. "i can't take any chances on their giving me the slip." "this place is going to be crowded with people from the burned hotel," objected the sergeant. "there will be no room for you. besides, how do i know these boys are anarchists?" "look in their valise," cried the stranger. "it is filled with bombs." "you can't look in this satchel," exclaimed jack, for he remembered the valise contained parts of the professor's secret machines. "what did i tell you?" cried the englishman with triumph in his tones. "they are the guilty ones. they are afraid to open their valise." "we are, but not because it has bombs in it," said mark. "it has parts of an unpatented machine and the owner does not want any one to see them," for mark remembered mr. henderson's strict injunctions to let no one but the mechanist to whom they had gone catch a glimpse of the parts that were to be duplicated. the machinist was sworn to secrecy. "it's none of our affair," said the sergeant, though he seemed a little impressed by the englishman's words and the reluctance mark and jack showed to letting the valise be opened. "the boys will be here until morning, and then you can see the judge. now you'll have to get out. you boys get to bed." muttering threats, the stranger went from the station house, and mark and jack, in response to a nod from the doorman, followed him upstairs to a part of the police station used to detain witnesses. they were shown to a small room with a single bed. "are ye really anarchists?" asked the doorman. "not a bit," replied jack, and he told as much of their story as he dared. "i was kind-of hopin' ye was," said the officer with a twinkle in his eye. "it wouldn't do any harm to scare that uppish englishman a bit. sure he an' his kind have done enough to poor old ireland." "i'm sorry we can't oblige you," said mark with a laugh. "i guess ye're all right," went on the doorman. "i hope ye sleep good the rest of the night." then he left them alone. what with the excitement of the fire and the startling accusation against them, the boys' brains were too excited to let them sleep much. they had a few fitful naps throughout the remainder of the night. it was just getting daylight when mark was awakened by some one shaking him. "what is it?" he asked. "another fire?" "not this time," replied a voice, and mark, now that his eyes were fully opened, saw the doorman bending over him. "what's the matter?" asked jack waking up in his turn. "easy!" exclaimed the doorman in a whisper. "i happened to think ye might want to be leavin'." "leaving?" asked mark in bewilderment. "yes. ye know that englishman is liable to be back any minute, an' he may make trouble for ye. i know ye're innocent lads, an' i'd hate to see ye mixed up in a mess with that fellow. so i slips up here early, an' ye can leave by the back door if ye want to, an' the officer of his imperial majesty, king edward vii, will never know a thing about it." "it looks like running away," objected jack. "sure there's no charge agin ye," went on the doorman. "ye're free to come an' go as far as we're concerned, an' ye'd better go whilst ye have the chance." jack reflected. it was true that the charge of the englishman, baseless as it was, might make trouble for them, and cause them endless delays in getting back to professor henderson. suddenly jack made up his mind. "come on mark," he said. chapter vi on a runaway trolley "are you going to leave?" asked mark. "certainly. there is no use staying here and getting mixed up in something that englishman thinks we have done. it's easier to go away quietly and let him find out his mistake." "all right," agreed mark. "i wonder who he is, anyhow?" "he thinks he owns the earth, whoever he is," returned jack. "he's some sort of a special detective traveling with lord peckham's party," explained the doorman. "he told us a lot about himself last night after you boys went to bed. he came back to inquire how early the judge would be here. "he went on to tell how some english anarchists have vowed to kill lord peckham because he foreclosed a lot of mortgages on some poor people in ireland where he owned property," added the doorman. "there was some sort of explosions in the hotel, near where lord peckham had his rooms. maybe it was a bomb and, maybe ag'in it was only the boiler. anyhow, this detective jumped to the conclusion that anarchists had done it, and he thinks you are responsible. but you'd better be goin' now. it's gettin' daylight." so mark and jack, with what scanty clothes they had, and carrying their valise, went quietly out of the back door of the police station. "we'd better go to the machine shop for the rest of the stuff," suggested mark, "and then we can take the first trolley we see and get back to the professor." through quiet side streets the boys made their way toward the machine shop. they were somewhat amused to think how they had fooled the detective, but they would not have felt so jolly had they seen the roughly dressed man who had darted after them as soon as they left the police station. "i'll get you yet," the man muttered. "you needn't think to escape with the aid of these bloomin' american police." the lads found the machinist just opening his shop though it was quite early. the pieces of apparatus were finished and, after paying for them mark put the parts in the valise. "quite a fire in town," observed the machinist. "yes," answered mark, not wishing to get into a long conversation. "heard the hotel was blowed up by anarchists and that the police are after 'em," proceeded the man. "i believe i did hear something like that," admitted mark. "i guess we'll be going." he signalled to jack, and the two hurried out of the shop. as they did so, the trampish-looking man glided from behind a tree where he had been hiding and took after them. "say," exclaimed jack, "i forgot we haven't had any breakfast yet." "that's so," said mark, rubbing his stomach and making a wry face. near by was a bakery, and there the lads got some coffee and rolls which tasted fine. when they finished their simple meal a trolley came past and they ran to catch it. so did the man who had been following them, but this person bore no resemblance to the spruce little detective who had wanted to arrest the boys. "a couple of hours now and we'll be back at the cabin," spoke mark. "my, but i must say we have had strenuous times since we started away!" there were few passengers on the trolley so early in the morning and not many stops to make, so the motorman turned on the power full and made the vehicle speed along. mile after mile was covered and finally the car reached the top of a long hill. at the foot of this the line came to an end, and the boys had a two mile tramp before them to reach the lonely spot where the _porpoise_ was docked. down the hill the car started. the motorman shut off the electricity and let the vehicle run by its weight. faster and faster it ran, the dust flying in a cloud about it. "better put the brakes on a bit," called the conductor. "it's gettin' kinder speedy, hank!" the motorman twisted the handle. there was a grinding noise as the shoes took hold on the wheels. then a chain snapped and the car seemed to leap ahead. "the brake's busted! i can't stop the car!" yelled the motorman. vainly he twisted at the handle. then, seeing he could not stop the trolley car he made a desperate jump off the vehicle and landed in a heap on the side of the road, rolling over and over. "reverse the current!" cried one of the passengers, to the conductor. "that ought to stop her!" the conductor made his way to the front platform and turned the reversing lever. then he applied the current. but it was no use. with a blinding flash and a report like that of a gun a fuse blew out, and that crippled the car completely so far as the electric current was concerned. "everybody jump!" cried the conductor. "there's a curve at the foot of the hill, and we'll all be killed if we stay on!" one by one the passengers leaped from the car. several were badly hurt by the falls they got. meanwhile the trolley was tearing down the hill at a terrific rate of speed. "shall we jump?" asked mark of jack. "we'll be killed if we do," was jack's answer. "and we'll be killed if we stay aboard," said mark. "not if i can help it," cried jack as he started for the rear platform. "what are you going to do?" asked mark. "put on the other brake. they never thought to try this one! maybe it will work and stop the car!" then mark saw what jack was up to and went to help him. the shabbily dressed man seemed undecided what to do. he stood up, holding to the straps to prevent himself from being tossed from side to side as the runaway trolley swayed. he watched the boys curiously. the lads, reaching the rear platform, twisted at the brake handle with all their strength. they could feel that the chain was still intact. but would the shoes grip the wheels with force sufficient to stop the car? there was a shrill screech as the brakes were applied by the boys. with all their might they turned the handle, winding the chain up tighter and tighter. at last they could not budge it another inch. then they waited anxiously. the car never slackened its speed. so great was the momentum that had both sets of brakes been in working order it is doubtful whether they would have stopped the vehicle. the speed was so great now that one of the journals became hot and the oily waste that was packed in it caught fire, making what railroad men term a "hot box". "i guess we're done for," groaned mark. "we certainly haven't checked the speed any," jack admitted. "but wait a minute." he began stamping on the floor of the platform. "what you doing?" cried mark, for he had to shout to make his voice heard above the roar and rattle of the car. "putting on the sand," replied jack, as he kicked at the plunger which, being depressed, let a stream of fine gravel out on the rails. "the wheels are gripped i think, and are slipping on the rails. this may help some." "let me give you a hand," exclaimed a voice, and the boys turned to see the shabby man standing with them on the platform. he grasped the brake handle, and gave it an additional turn. his strength seemed remarkable for so small a man. the speed of the car was checked a little, but the vehicle was still speeding along at a rate that would soon bring it to destruction if not halted before the curve was reached. "that's a little better," observed mark. "it's a good thing you were here." "good for me, not so good for you," said the man with a peculiar smile. "what do you mean?" asked mark. "i mean that i shall have to place you under arrest for attempting to assassinate lord peckham!" exclaimed the man. "i am detective ducket, of scotland yard!" he stripped off a false beard he had donned, and threw back his coat, displaying his shield. he was the same man who had attempted to arrest the boys in the police station at easton. "i've got you just where i want you now," detective ducket went on. "there are none of those blooming american police to interfere." the next instant the car gave a sudden lurch. then it seemed to rise up in the air. jack felt himself flying through space, and he observed mark, who was clinging to the valise, following him. there was a terrific crash, a ripping, tearing splintering sound, and the runaway trolley smashed into a big oak tree at the foot of the hill. the vehicle had completely jumped the track at the sharp curve. jack's eyes grew dim, and he seemed to be sinking down in some dark pool of water. he heard a splashing beside him and began to strike out, trying to swim. he seemed to be choking. then the blessed air and daylight came to him, and he found he was floating on the surface of a pond. he dashed the water from his eyes and saw, over on the bank, the wreck of the trolley. then he noticed that mark was swimming beside him. "what happened?" asked jack. "a little of everything," panted mark. "lucky we weren't killed. we must have been flung off the rear platform into this duck pond." the boys soon made their way to shore, unhurt except for the wetting. the fall into the water had saved their lives. "where's the valise of machinery?" asked jack. "there it is," answered mark pointing to where it had fallen at the back of the pond. "and what became of detective ducket?" "he's here, at your service!" exclaimed a voice. "consider yourselves under arrest and don't you dare to leave this place without me." the boys looked in the direction of the sound and saw the english officer lying on the grass not far away. he seemed in pain, but had raised himself on his elbow and was pointing his finger sternly at the boys. chapter vii off for the south pole "are you hurt?" asked jack. "i think my leg is broken, but otherwise i'm not damaged," replied the detective. "even if i am disabled, it makes no difference, you are my prisoners. i command you to stay here until help comes." the boys did not know what to do. they did not like to see even an enemy suffer, but, at the same time, they knew he had no right to arrest them. "here comes a wagon," said mark, catching the sound of wheels. "well, fo' de land sakes! gollyation! what terrible catafterme hab occurred in dis unapproachable manner?" a voice demanded. "it's washington!" cried mark, as he saw professor henderson's colored assistant driving along the road. "dat's who it am!" exclaimed washington as he noticed the boys. "my! my! but am you boff dead?" "no, only one of us," said mark with a laugh, as he and jack ran toward the wagon. "ha! ha! dat's one ob yo' jokes," said washington. "but hurry up, boys. de perfessor he done sent me to meet you. he reckoned you'd becomin' ober on an early trolley. he's in a hurry to git away." "don't you boys dare to leave!" exclaimed detective ducket. "who's dat?" asked washington. "never mind," said mark. "he was hurt in the trolley smash, but not badly. we'll send help, from the first farm house we come to. come on, washington, we'll go with you." the boys jumped into the wagon, and washington started off. he explained that the inventor was anxious to make a start that day, as there would be an unusually high tide which would be followed a little later by a low one, and that would make it difficult to cross the harbor bar. "so i hired dis wagon an' come after you," said the colored man. at the first house they came to the boys stopped and told about the accident. the farmer agreed to go and get the detective and the others who were hurt and take them to a hospital. "i guess we're rid of that detective now," observed jack, as they started off again. "yes, but we're getting away under a cloud on our characters," said mark. "i'd like to stay and see the thing through, if we had time." "but we can't, and there's no use worrying over it," spoke jack. in a short time they were at the inventor's cabin, and related to mr. henderson all that had occurred. "well i guess your detective friend will have a hard time to find you in a few hours," said the old man. "we start on our trip for the south pole this evening." there were busy times for the next few hours. many supplies had to be placed on board, and, while the boys, with tom and bill, saw to this, the professor and washington were occupied with putting the last touches to the submarine boat's machinery. most of the supplies from the cabin were placed in the _porpoise_, including food and clothing and a good quantity of minerals that, with sea water, generated the gas that made steam. an early supper was made on shore, as the professor said they might be so busy for the first few hours of the starting trip that they would get no chance to eat. then the cabin and buildings where the submarine had been built, were securely fastened. "i guess we're all ready," announced the professor, taking a last look around. one by one they went aboard the _porpoise_ crawling down through the man hole. the inventor was the last one to enter. he clamped the cover on by means of the cam levers and switched on the electric lights. then he took his place in the conning tower with andy sudds. "forward, to the south pole!" exclaimed mr. henderson. with a turn of his wrist the inventor started the engines. the big screw in the shaft revolved, pulling the water in at one end of the craft and sending it out in a swirling stream at the other. the trip was fairly begun. for several miles the _porpoise_ glided along on the surface of the ocean. it was a calm evening, and the boys down in the cabin of the craft could look into the reflecting mirrors on the wall, which were connected with observation magnifying glasses in the conning tower, and view what was going on, though their heads were below the surface of the sea. as it grew darker the view of shore and water faded away. the engine kept up its speed with washington to see to it every now and then, oiling the bearings, some of which did not run quite smoothly because of their newness. "i'll send her down a bit now," observed the professor. "i don't want to run into any more warships or scare the crews by making them think we are a foreign torpedo boat." he opened the sea cocks in the ballast tanks and soon the _porpoise_ sunk about two hundred feet beneath the waves. the craft, which had been pitching and tossing under the influence of a ground swell, became more steady and quiet once it left the surface. the searchlight in the conning tower was turned on, and in the glare of it andy and the professor were able to steer properly, aided by the compass which gave them the true southern course. it was now quite dark. additional electric lights were switched on in the cabin, engine and dining room. andy came out of the conning tower and announced that captain henderson wanted washington to get supper. all the cooking was done by electricity, and, in addition to a supply of the usual and ordinary kinds of food, there was a big lot of patent condensed victuals to draw on. soup, broiled steak, potatoes, hot biscuits, rice pudding and coffee made up the repast which was enjoyed by all. toward the close of the meal professor henderson began to sniff the air of the cabin. "what's the matter? do you smell a storm brewing?" asked andy. "no, but the air is not as fresh as it should be," replied the inventor. "washington, release a little more of the supply from the compression tanks." the ship, which had been left to steer itself automatically while the professor was absent from the conning tower, was moving along at about half speed. the gage showed they were going at twenty miles an hour, and were three hundred feet below the surface. "washington and i will share the first night's watch between us," said the inventor, after the supper things had been cleared away. "there will not be much to do, as the ship will steer automatically in whatever direction i set her. still i want to see how she behaves. the rest of you might as well go to your bunks." the two boys were especially glad of a chance to go to bed, as they had had but little sleep the night before on account of the fire. so they lost no time in undressing and rolling up in the blankets, for it was quite cool so far down under the water. "well, we've slept on the earth, above the earth and now we're under the waters," observed jack. "there's only one place more to spend your time taking a snooze," said mark. "where's that?" "inside the earth." then they fell asleep. during the night and the next day the _porpoise_ forged on underneath the waves. washington relieved mr. henderson in the conning tower and reported the machinery to be working well. "keep her headed due south," was the order of the inventor, and the colored man did so. it was about four o'clock one morning that washington felt a slight jar to the submarine. "hope we ain't goin' to hit no more battleships," he said. he glanced at the speed-indicating gage. to his surprise it stood at zero. the craft was not moving forward a foot! yet the engines were going at half speed! in great alarm washington shut off the power and ran to acquaint professor henderson with the news. "suffin's ketched us!" cried the colored man. "nonsense!" said the inventor, yet he seemed alarmed as he slipped on his clothes and hastened to the conning tower. he peered ahead along the path of water illuminated by the glare of the searchlight, but nothing was to be seen. then he started the engine, increasing the speed gradually until the big screw in the shaft revolved more than one thousand times a minute. still the _porpoise_ never stirred. she remained in the same position, as if some giant hand grasped her. "reverse the engine," said the professor. washington did so. to the surprise of both of them the ship shot backward like a frightened crab. "now forward!" exclaimed the old inventor. but this time the _porpoise_ did not move. it was as if she was up against a stone wall. "what's the matter?" asked mark, who had been awakened by the excitement on board. "i do not know," replied mr. henderson gravely. "something mysterious has occurred. we can go no further!" chapter viii ashore in the dark "stop the engine," the captain commanded after he had peered through the lens in the conning tower for some time. "we must see what is the matter." he glanced at the depth gage and noted that they were now four hundred feet below the surface. then he consulted some charts. "there is a depth of one thousand feet about here," he remarked. "lower the ship, washington. let us see if by getting on the ocean bed we can get away from this obstruction." the colored man opened wider the sea cocks by which the tanks were filled. the increased ballast sunk the _porpoise_ still lower, and, in a few minutes a slight jar told the navigators that they were on the bottom of the ocean. "now we will see if we have cleared the obstruction," said the professor. he started the big screw to revolving, but the ship did not move. it shivered and trembled throughout its length but remained stationary. "maybe dar's a debil fish what hab circumulated dis ship in de exteror portion ob his anatomy," suggested washington, rolling his eyes until only the whites were visible. "i presume you mean that a giant squid or cuttle fish has attacked us," spoke the professor. "yas, sir," replied washington. "that's nonsense," went on the inventor. "however, we must make an investigation." "how are you going to do it?" asked mark. "you can't see the end of the tube from inside the ship, and, even if we went to the surface it would still be under water." "we are going to look at it while here, under the ocean," said the inventor. "well, maybe you're a good swimmer," put in jack, "but i don't believe you can stay under, in this depth of water, long enough to see what the trouble is." "i think i can," answered mr. henderson. "how?" "i'll show you. washington, bring out the diving suits." the colored man, his eyes growing bigger every minute, went to a locker and brought out what seemed quite a complicated bit of apparatus. "with the aid of these," said the professor, "i will be able to go out, walk along the ocean bed, and investigate the mystery. do you boys want to come along?" "is it safe?" asked mark, who was inclined to be cautious. "as safe as any part of this under-sea voyage," replied the professor. "these diving suits are something i have not told you about," he went on. "they are my own invention. besides the regular rubber suits there is an interlining of steel,--something like the ancient suits of chain mail--to withstand the great pressure of water. then, instead of being dependent on a supply of air, pumped into the helmet from an apparatus in a boat on the surface, each person carries his own air supply with him." "how is that?" asked jack, and mark also asked the question. "simply by attaching a little tank of the compressed gas to the shoulder piece of the suit," said the inventor. "there is enough air in the tank to last for nearly a day. it is admitted to the helmet as needed by means of automatic valves. in other respects the diving suit is the same as the ordinary kind, except that there is a small searchlight, fed by a storage battery, on top of the helmet." in spite of their fears at venturing out under the great ocean, the two boys were anxious to try the suits. so, after some hesitation, they donned them. "here, take these with you," said the professor, before their helmets were screwed on. he held out what looked like long sticks. "what are they?" asked jack. "electric guns," replied the professor. "but come on now, we have no time to lose." further conversation was impossible, for the boys had their heavy copper helmets on, and they were as tightly enclosed as if inside a box. they grasped their weapons and waited for the next move. the professor led the way to the stern of the ship. the boys found it hard to walk, as they were weighted down by the heavy suits, and also the boots, the soles of which were of lead. they followed the inventor into what seemed a small room. inside they found themselves in darkness. there was a clanking sound as washington fastened and clamped the door shut. then came a hissing. the boys felt water rising about them. they could experience its coldness, even through the diving suits. they were much afraid, but the professor put a reassuring hand on their shoulders. they seemed to feel a great weight. it gradually lessened, however, and, in a few minutes, they saw something move in front of them. the professor pushed them gently forward. in another instant they were walking on the bed of the ocean, having stepped from the _porpoise_. they had gone into a locked compartment, the inner door of which had been tightly closed, after which water from outside had been gradually admitted until the pressure was equal, and then the boys and the professor had merely to emerge out into the bottom of the sea when the outer portal was swung aside by washington, who worked the lever from inside. the boys were in intense darkness, but, suddenly a light glowed about them, and they saw that the professor had switched on his miniature search lamp. they remembered how he had told them to work the apparatus, and soon tiny gleams shot out from their helmets. the professor pointed ahead, for not a sound could be heard, and the boys followed him. it was a new sensation, this walking along the bed of the ocean. at first the great pressure of water, even though the steel lined diving suits kept most of it off, was unpleasant. gradually, however, the boys became used to it. they had to move slowly, for the water was denser than the air and impeded their progress. in a few minutes they reached the forward end of the _porpoise_. now they were to solve the mystery of what had stopped the submarine. for a few moments they could distinguish nothing. suddenly the boys felt the professor grasping their arms. they looked in the direction he pointed. there in the diffused glare from the search light and the illumination of their helmet lamps they saw, wrapped about the forward shaft opening a gigantic squid or devil fish. its soft, jelly-like body completely covered the opening of the shaft preventing any water from entering, and thus stopping any forward motion to the ship. this was what had caused all the trouble. the _porpoise_ had run into the monster, who feeling what it must have thought an enemy, had grasped the submarine with its long sinuous arms. the professor hesitated a moment. then he slowly raised his electrical gun, and took aim at the hideous mass. the boys followed his example. at mr. henderson's signal they all fired together. from the muzzles of the guns darted small barbs that carried with them a strong shock of electricity, from storage batteries in the shoulder pieces of the weapons. three of them were enough to produce death in an animal as large as a whale. the devil fish quivered. then the water about it suddenly grew black, and the boys and the professor were in dense darkness, for the squid had dyed the ocean with a dark liquid from the sack it carried for the purpose. the explorers groped their way to the left, having fortunately grasped hands after firing their guns, to prevent being separated in case the terrible fish began a death struggle. luckily professor henderson went in the right direction and managed to locate the _porpoise_. then, feeling along her steel sides, he led the boys through the inky blackness to the water chamber by which entrance could be had to the interior. in a few minutes all three were safely inside and had removed their diving suits. the others crowded about, anxious to learn what had happened. the inventor related it briefly. once more the engines were started. this time there was no hanging back on the part of the _porpoise_. the big screw revolved, the water came in the shaft and was thrust out of the rear end, making a current that sent the craft ahead swiftly. the gigantic fish had been killed, and its body no longer obstructed progress. "now we'll rise to the surface and see how it feels to sail along that way for a while," said the professor as he started the pumps that emptied the tanks. in a little while the ship was floating on the waves. it was now night, and the clouds overhead made it so dark that it was hard to see ten feet in advance. the professor did not want to use the searchlight for he did not care to have his presence discovered by curious persons. so he ran the ship at half speed. "where are we now?" asked mark, who had entered the conning tower, where the professor was steering. "somewhere's off the coast of south carolina," replied the inventor. the next instant there was a sudden shock and jar. the ship quivered from stem to stern, and came to an abrupt stop. "we've hit something!" exclaimed the professor, shutting down the engines with a jerk of the lever. chapter ix a price on their heads on board the _porpoise_ there was great excitement. washington, with andy, tom, bill and jack came running from the engine room. "what is it?" cried jack. "i don't know," answered the professor as calmly as he could. "we'll soon see, however." he switched on the searchlight and peered from the conning tower. "can you see anything?" asked andy, anxiously. "i can," announced the inventor. "what?" "land," replied mr. henderson. "we've hit the coast." "i hope we ain't done no damage," put in washington. "do you mean to the coast or to us?" asked the professor, with a smile. "i guess there isn't much danger in ramming the shore excepting to the _porpoise_. however, we do not seem to be in any immediate trouble." he tested various wheels and levers, and announced that, aside from the jar, which might have started some of the machinery, the _porpoise_ was unharmed. the cover of the man-hole was loosened and, one after another, the adventurers crawled out on the small deck or platform. it took them a little while to become accustomed to the darkness, but soon they were able to make out that they had run on the muddy bank of the ocean beach. the tide was low and the _porpoise_ had rammed her nose well into the soft muck, which accounted for the lack of damage. "well, i guess there is nothing to do excepting to wait for morning," said mr. henderson. "it doesn't look like a very lively neighborhood about here. i don't believe we'll be disturbed." save for the splash and lapping of the waves and the sound of the wind, it was as quiet as the proverbial graveyard. not a light showed on shore, and the gleam from the search lamp of the _porpoise_ cut the darkness like a small moonbeam. "if there's nothing to do i'm going to turn in," said andy. "i'm tired." the professor said this was a good suggestion, and, leaving instructions that washington and bill were to divide the night's watch between them, the inventor sought his bunk. the boys remained on deck a few minutes longer. "we certainly are getting our share of adventures," remarked jack. "i should say so," answered mark. "gollyation yes!" exclaimed washington. "you-uns done most been eat by dat air koslostrous specimen ob a parralleledon! i'm glad i didn't go. but i'se brave enough!" "what's that?" asked mark suddenly, pointing to an object floating on the water. washington turned to behold something white drifting along. "oh my good land ob mercy! it's a ghost!" the colored man yelled. "it's a ghost! land a' massy! hide me some where, quick!" washington fell on his knees and stretched up his clasped hands in supplication. the boys gazed curiously at the white object that was slowly floating toward the stranded ship. it rose and fell on the waves, with an odd motion. "i wonder what it is," said mark. "we'll soon see," spoke jack. "it's coming this way." "don't go near it! don't touch it, boys!" pleaded washington. "it'll put de evil eye on yo', suah! turn yo' haids away!" but the boys were not so easily frightened. the white thing did look queer, but jack reasoned correctly that the darkness of the night magnified it, and made it appear stranger than it probably was. "i'm going to try to get it," said mark. the white thing was now quite close. it resembled a bundle of rags, floating on top of the water, and, as it came nearer, it seemed to take on a curious form. "it's a baby! it's de ghost ob a little dead baby!" cried the colored man. "let it alone, i tell you!" indeed, now that washington had suggested it, the boys could see a resemblance to a child in the white object. but this did not deter them. jack secured a boat hook from where it was fastened to the platform. with it he gently poked at the white thing. the object seemed to collapse and jack was conscious of a strange feeling. then, with slow motions, he drew it close to the side of the ship. lying on his face he was able to get a good look at the thing. he muttered an exclamation. "what is it?" cried mark. "nothing but a newspaper!" announced jack with a laugh, as he threw it on the deck. "all our trouble for nothing." "i shore thought it were a ghost," cried washington as he got up from his knees. the boys went to their bunks. they were the first ones awake the next morning, and jack followed mark on deck. "there's the paper you rescued from drowning," said mark. "so it is," came from jack. "i wonder if there's any news in it." the sheet had dried out and jack spread it open. no sooner had he scanned the first page than he uttered a whistle. "something startling?" asked mark. "startling! i guess yes! look here!" mark looked over jack's shoulder. staring at them, from amid a mass of other news was the announcement in big black type: reward for boy anarchists! then followed an account of the burning of the hotel at easton, a vivid description with pictures, of how it had been blown up in an attempt to assassinate lord peckham, and how the two boys, sons of an english anarchist, had escaped. the rest of the story was given over to a description which jack and mark could see was meant for them though it was incorrect in several particulars. how the boys had escaped the detective, through the trolley car mishap, was related, and then came the startling announcement that the hotel authorities had offered a reward of $1,000 for the capture of either or both of the boy anarchists. to this lord peckham had added an equal sum. "well, it looks as if we were of some importance in the world," remarked jack. "rather," agreed mark. "think of having a price on our heads! well, that detective certainly is a hustler. when is that paper dated?" jack looked and saw that the sheet had been issued in charleston the day previous. it had probably been thrown overboard from some steamer, and had drifted toward shore. while the boys were speculating over the matter professor henderson came on deck. he saw something was up, and soon had the whole story from the boys. "i shouldn't worry about it," said the inventor. "they've got to catch you first, and it isn't like running away when you know you are guilty. you boys had no more to do with the fire than the man in the moon. and we'll soon be beyond the reach of rewards and newspapers." nevertheless, the boys brooded over the matter. it seemed that they were still under a cloud, and they wished very much that it could be cleared away. however there were soon busy times. the rising tide floated the boat, and soon it was riding safely at anchor. the professor needed some small bits of machinery, and had decided to send the boys to the nearest town for them. but the news in the paper changed his plans, and he sent bill and washington, who soon returned with the needed articles. "now we'll make another start," said mr. henderson, as soon as all were on board once more. "this time i hope we will keep on until we reach the south pole!" he started the engine, the _porpoise_ sank beneath the waves, and with a hum of the big screw that throbbed and vibrated, was away again. chapter x attacked by a monster for several days the _porpoise_ plowed her way beneath the surface of the ocean. obedient to the directing hand of professor henderson she rose or sank as the tanks were emptied or filled. he put the craft through several rather difficult movements to test her under all conditions. in each one she was a success. dinner was sometimes eaten five hundred feet below the surface. then while washington washed the dishes and cleaned up the galley, jack and mark looked from the side windows at the strange life under water. they were getting farther south now and the water was warmer as the equator was approached. this produced a great variety of animal life, and the ocean fairly swarmed with fishes, big and little, strange and curious that could be seen from the glass bull's-eyes. great sharks swam up alongside of the _porpoise_, keeping pace with her in spite of her speed. their cruel tigerish eyes and ugly mouths made the boys shudder as they looked at the creatures. then came odd creatures that seemed neither of the land or sea, but which swam along with their horrible bodies flapping up against the glass. one and all, the inhabitants of the ocean seemed to resent the intrusion of the submarine. one day the boys turned the light out in the cabin and sat in the darkness the better to observe the fishes. the sea, in the vicinity of the ship, was illuminated with a sort of glow that diffused from the searchlight. suddenly, as the boys were watching, there came a thud on the glass window at the port side. they glanced in that direction to see some horrible thing peering in at them through the window. at first they were greatly frightened. two big eyes of green, with rims of what looked like red fire, stared at them, and, there was an ugly mouth lined with three rows of teeth. "it's only a fish," said mark. "well, i wouldn't like to meet it outside," said jack. "i'd rather be here. my, but it's a nasty sight!" "let's give washington a little scare," suggested mark. "how?" "we'll go out and tell him some one in the cabin wants to see him. the fish will stay there. see, it is fastened to the glass by some sort of suction arrangement, like the octupus fish have on their arms. then we'll look in and see what wash does." jack agreed to the plan. the boys left the cabin, and mark called to the colored man, who was in the engine room. "i'll go right instanter this minute," said washington. "don't no grass grow under dis chile's feet!" "now listen," said mark as he and jack tiptoed after the colored man. washington had no sooner entered the darkened cabin, and caught sight of the horrible staring red and green eyes looking straight at him, than he let out a yell that could be heard all over the ship. then the colored man dropped on his knees and began to implore: "good please mr. satan fish, doan take washington white," he begged. "it's all a mistake. i didn't do nuffin. good please mr. satan fish, take some one else. it's disproportionate to de circumulation ob de interiorness ob dis subicecream ship, so kindly pass me by dis time!" "what's the matter?" asked amos henderson, as he came hurrying into the cabin, seeking the cause for washington's loud cry. jack and mark, who came in at that juncture, were a little bit ashamed of the trick they had played. "what is the trouble?" repeated mr. henderson. "we's all goin' to be devoured alibe!" cried washington pointing to the fish, that still clung to the glass. "ah, a sucker fish!" remarked the inventor. "a large specimen, too. don't be afraid washington, it can't hurt you." "he looks like he could," said the colored man. "look at dem teef!" indeed the creature's mouth was a horrible sight, as it opened and shut. "i'll show you how to get rid of him," said the professor. he turned on the electric lights in the cabin, flooding the room with a bright glow. the big fish darted off, and, when the lights were turned out again, the terrible eyes did not reappear, much to their satisfaction. "the lights scared it away," remarked the inventor. "but you mustn't get frightened so easily, washington. you'll see stranger sights than that before you're through with this voyage." "oh i wasn't 'fraid," spoke up washington. "i were jest 'stonished, dat's all." "what did you get down on your knees for?" asked mark with a grin. "i might hab been lookin' for my collar button, for all you knows," replied washington, with an air of great dignity, and went back to the engine room. for several days after this the _porpoise_ continued on her way south. now and then appearing on the surface to renew the supply of fresh air, and again skimming along under the surface, or deep down, the strange craft kept on. it grew much warmer, and even when some distance below the surface the heat could be felt in an uncomfortable manner. "we're getting near the equator," explained the professor. one afternoon, when dinner had just been finished, and the ship, under the direction of washington, was gliding along well under the sea, there came a sudden shock. "we've hit something!" exclaimed mr. henderson as he jumped for the conning tower. the shock was repeated. "what was it?" asked someone. "shut down the engine!" yelled the inventor to the colored man. "what do you want to go on ramming an object after you've once hit it? slow down the engine!" "power's shut off!" cried washington. "we didn't hit nothin'! something hit us!" "what do you mean?" asked mr. henderson. "somethin's rammin' us," went on washington. "it must be a big monster. i was sterrin' along an' there was nothin' in de road, when all of a suddint, ker-plunk! we's hit. look ahead, an' you can't see nothin'!" the professor, and the boys, who had followed him, gazed out of the conning tower window. there was nothing forward but a vast expanse of water. the next instant the ship careened as something struck her a violent blow on the port side. everyone almost toppled over from the force of the impact. "dar he goes agin!" cried washington. "we're attacked by a whale!" said the professor. "we must rise to the surface or it may damage the ship." "if it's a whale i'd like to get a shot at it," put in andy sudds, from the foot of the companion ladder leading into the tower. "i don't know that it is a whale," went on the inventor. "but it must be something very big and strong." "it's a monster of some sort," put in andy, "and i want a chance at him." "it's too risky," murmured the professor. "we couldn't get down to bottom here, as the water is several miles deep, and the pressure would crush the _porpoise_, strong as she is." once more came a terrible blow and the ship rocked in a swirl of foam beneath the waves. in quick succession two more fierce onslaughts were made by the unseen monster. "we'll have to do something," muttered andy. "you're right," agreed the professor. "our only chance is to rise to the surface, for i do not believe the creature will follow us there. empty the tanks, washington." the colored man started the pumps, and the professor watched the gages that told the depth of the craft. the pointer should have begun to swing around in a few seconds after the tanks began to empty. instead it remained stationary. "strange," said mr. henderson. "i wonder if anything is wrong with the machinery." "more like the whale, or whatever it is, is on top of the boat, holding her down," suggested andy. there was no doubt of this a moment later, for there were several violent blows on the upper part of the _porpoise_. the crew of the submarine were held prisoners below the surface by the unknown monster! for a few minutes the thought of the awful fate that would be theirs if the ship should be wrecked under the water made each one speechless. as they stood looking at each other, not knowing what to do, the attack was renewed on the port side. the big fish, whale or whatever it was, kept pounding away. "i have an idea!" cried andy suddenly. "what is it?" asked the professor quickly. "let me put a diving dress on," began the old hunter. "i tell you we can't sink to the bottom in this depth of water," interrupted the professor. "we don't need to," put in andy. "all i want is a diving suit and a chance to stand out in the diving chamber. i guess i can fix mr. whale, if i have one of those electric guns." "quick! get a diving suit, washington!" cried mr. henderson. he saw what the old hunter planned to do. in a few minutes andy was dressed in the suit. the attacks of the monster had redoubled in frequency, and the ship rocked as in a storm. andy stepped into the diving chamber, clasping the electric gun. the inner door was tightly closed and then the sea cocks that admitted water from the outside were opened. when the pressure inside the chamber was equal to that of the ocean outside some one pulled the lever that opened the outer door. andy knew better than to step outside. he remained in the chamber, like a sentinel hid in the embrasure of a wall, for the chamber was a sort of big dent in the side of the _porpoise_. once more the ship rocked from a terrific blow, and the old hunter was nearly thrown out and into the fathomless depths below. he clung to the door lever and peered out. through the big glass eyes of his copper helmet he saw headed straight at him a whale that seemed larger than the submarine. chapter xi caught in a sea of grass "it's all up with me and the ship, too," thought andy as he stood in the small chamber and watched the oncoming of the monster. however, he was not going to die without a fight, so he raised the electric gun. yet he knew it was a most forlorn chance. he aimed straight down the big open mouth and pulled the trigger. the next instant the water all about him was a mass of foam, through which he could dimly see that the whale had halted. and, as the old hunter watched, in awe and fear at what he saw, he noted that instead of one monster there seemed to be a pair. together they were threshing the sea into a bloody foam. then, turning on the searchlight in his helmet, andy beheld a terrible sight. the whale had been attacked by a gigantic swordfish at the moment the hunter had fired the shot, and it was that, and not the electric bullet, that had stopped the infuriated animal's rush at the ship. ancient enemies, the whale and swordfish, had met in mortal combat. the swordfish had engaged the whale just as it was about to strike what would probably have been a blow that would have disabled the submarine, for with the door of the diving chamber open, the onslaught might not have been withstood. rushing here and there, the whale seeking to destroy his enemy with a sweep of the enormous flukes, and the swordfish plunging his bony weapon again and again into the whale, the two monsters fought until the water about the ship was a mass of foam and blood. much as he wanted to see the end of the fight, andy knew it was dangerous to remain longer with the door open. he closed it, pressed the lever which started the pumps, forcing the water from the chamber and, in a few minutes, emerged into the interior of the ship. mr. henderson, realizing that something out of the ordinary was going on, had opened the slides of the bull's-eye windows, and those in the submarine saw part of the fight between the whale and swordfish. as soon as andy had removed his diving suit he advised that the ship be sent to the surface, as there might be danger should the monsters get too close in their struggles. accordingly the pumps, which had been stopped when it was found impossible to raise the ship, because of the weight of the whale, were started and the _porpoise_ was soon on the surface. the manhole cover was opened and andy, with jack and mark, went out on deck. they had no sooner stepped out on the platform than there was a commotion in the water. "they're going to fight up here!" exclaimed mark. a big body shot upward and fell back with a splash, rocking the submarine. "there's the whale," observed andy. "but i reckon he won't fight any more. he's dead." it was so. the swordfish had conquered, and the lifeless body of the whale floated on top of the water, only to sink a little later. "it was a great battle," said jack. "i'm glad i was inside the ship." the course was due south, and every minute it seemed to the boys that it was getting warmer, for they were approaching the equator. every hour brought them nearer the south pole, though they were still several thousand miles from it. after a while quite a wind sprang up, and as the sea roughened the professor decided to go down under the surface. the _porpoise_ sunk as the tanks filled and, in a little while, the submarine was in calm water, and was forging ahead at three-quarter speed. it was three days after the adventure with the whale when, as the ship was going along at a good rate, that there seemed to be a gradual slacking in the progress. "i wonder what washington is slowing down for," said the professor rising from the dinner table at which all save the colored man had been sitting. "i told him to keep right on. he must have seen something ahead. i'll take a look." the inventor went to the conning tower, where washington was steering. "what are you stopping for?" he asked. "i'm not slowin' down," replied the colored man. "guess another ob dem debil fishes has grabbed holt ob de ship. dey suttinly am de most koslostrous conglomerations ob inconsequence dat i eber see." "you must keep your big words for another time," remarked mr. henderson, who seemed worried. "hurry to the engine-room and see if the machinery is all right. we certainly are slowing down, from some cause or other." the _porpoise_ was now scarcely moving, though from the vibration it was evident that the engines were working almost at top speed. washington came back and reported that the big screw was revolving properly and that all the machinery was working well. "then we're caught in something," said the professor. "shut off the power, washington, i don't want to strain things." the ship was now scarcely making a foot a minute, and, a little later, when the colored man had turned off the engine, the submarine became stationary, merely undulating with the roll and heave of the ocean. hurrying to the cabin, captain henderson opened the side window shutters, turned off the electric lights and peered out. "i can't see anything," he said. "yet i should be able to, as we are not very deep." the gage showed that the ship was submerged only thirty feet, and at that depth there should have been no difficulty in seeing, at least dimly, objects under water. but the windows showed as black as night. "bring me one of the portable searchlights," called mr. henderson. washington brought one, operated by a storage battery. holding it so the reflector cast the beams out of the bull's-eye and into the water on the opposite side, the inventor peered forth. "i was afraid of this!" he murmured. "what is it?" asked jack. "we are caught in the sargasso sea," replied mr. henderson. "the sargasso sea?" repeated mark, in a questioning tone. "what is that?" "it is a great sea of grass," replied the captain. "an immense ocean of sea weed, that sometimes floats on the surface and sometimes a little below. the stalks or blades of the grass are very long and closely matted together." "is there any danger?" asked andy in some alarm. "very much," answered the professor quietly. "a ship, once fairly entangled in the grass or sea weed, seldom gets out. if it is a sailing ship the weed clings to the rudder, making steerage impossible, and even in a strong wind the ship cannot get free of the mass. the grass winds about the propellers of steamships, and holds them as tight as in a vise. "sometimes a great storm may tear the mass of weed loose from the bottom of the ocean, and then the ship is free. but the sargasso sea is the graveyard of many a fine vessel." the pumps were set going. anxiously everyone watched the gage. the pointer never moved, but remained at thirty feet. the _porpoise_ was caught. "well, since we can't go up, let us see if we can go down," said the inventor. "perhaps we can dive under the sea weed." the cocks of the tanks were opened and the water rushed in. under the weight of it the ship should have sunk to the bottom. instead it remained just where it was, thirty feet below the surface. "try the screw again," suggested andy, "maybe we can back out." the big propeller in the tube was started going in a reverse direction, but the _porpoise_ only moved a few feet and then stopped. to go forward was equally impossible. the submarine was held fast in the grip of the long, sinuous, snake-like fingers of the terrible sea grass. weak as one strand was, the thousands combined served to fasten the ship as securely as wire cables would have done. the weeds had entangled themselves all around the craft and refused to let go. "well," remarked mr. henderson when all efforts had failed. "we must think of a new plan." he spoke cheerfully, for he did not want the boys and other members of the crew to know how worried he was. this was a danger he had never counted on when he planned to go to the south pole. "there is no great hurry," mr. henderson went on in a few minutes. "we can stay here for several days if need be, and by that time a storm may tear the grass loose." "if we had our old hay sythes here," spoke bill, "me an' tom could put on divin' suits an' go out an' cut the sea weed." "i'm afraid that wouldn't work," answered mr. henderson. "i'll think up some plan, soon." he started toward the engine room to look over the machinery. he was met by washington, who seemed much alarmed. "what's the matter?" asked the inventor. "de air tank hab busted an' all de air is escapin' out!" cried the colored man. "we'll all smothercate!" chapter xii fire on board the professor jumped past washington and hurried into the room where the tanks were kept, carrying the reserve supply of air for breathing when the ship was under water. a loud hissing told that the leak was a large one. "quick! bring me some tools and a steel plug," shouted the captain. mark hurried in with the things the professor wanted. but before the plug could be put in the hole the air stopped hissing. "the leak is fixed!" cried jack. "no," said the professor in a strange voice. "but the air no longer rushes out." "for a good reason, there is no longer any air to rush out. it is all gone!" "do you mean to say that all the reserve stock has been lost?" exclaimed andy. "i fear so. the leak must have been a bad one. the air was stored in tanks under pressure, and, as you know, we released it as we needed it. now it is all gone." "all? then we shall smother," said jack, and his voice trembled. "not at once," went on mr. henderson in a calm voice. "there is enough air in the entire ship, including that which has leaked from the tanks to last us five hours. after that----" he paused and looked at his watch. "well?" asked andy. "after that?" "there is enough stored in the small tanks of the diving suits to last another two hours, perhaps. seven hours in all." "then what?" asked mark. "we shall smother to death," said the professor in a low tone. "that is," he went on, "unless before that time we can raise the _porpoise_ to the surface of the sea and get a fresh supply of air." "then we must work to raise the ship," put in bill. "let' get out and see if we can't cut through the sea weed." "it would be useless," said mr. henderson. "we can only depend on the power of the ship herself. but do not be discouraged. we may escape. come, washington, start the engine again. by keeping it going constantly we can, perhaps, break loose from the grass. it is our only hope." steadily the machinery worked. it might as well have remained stationary, however, as far as any noticeable effect was made on the boat's progress. the grass of the sargasso sea held the _porpoise_ in a firm grasp. four hours passed. there was nothing to do but wait and see what would happen. it all depended on the engines. silently the navigators of the realms under the ocean sat and hoped. now and then the professor would go to the engine room to adjust the machines. the atmosphere in the cabin was growing noticeably heavier. the boys' heads began to ring with strange noises, and there was a tightness across their chests. the lack of fresh air was beginning to tell. "we might as well use that in the diving suit reservoirs," remarked the professor. "we will feel better, at least for a little while." the helmets of the suits were brought in, and the vapor released from the small tanks. a change was at once noticed. the old stale air in the cabin was forced out of the exhaust pipes, and the fresh took its place. every one felt better. faster and faster revolved the big screw. the ship vibrated more and more. yet it did not move, nor did it rise. the crew were still prisoners beneath the water. for an hour or so conditions were fairly comfortable. then the same unpleasantness was experienced as was noticed before. "if we could only open a window," sighed mark, "and let in a lot of fresh air, how nice it would be." the air rapidly became more foul. soon washington was gasping for breath. tom and bill showed signs of uneasiness. "lie down on the floor," counseled the professor. "you will find the air a little fresher down there." they all did as he advised, the inventor himself stretching out at full length. a little relief was experienced. they knew it could not last long. even the professor seemed to have given up hope. the engine was not going to free the ship in time to save the lives of those on board. washington crawled to the engine room, as some of the bearings needed oiling. the professor seemed in despair. he opened one of the slides that covered the glass bulls eye windows. then he turned off the electric lights. the opening was black, showing that the sea of grass still surrounded them. with a groan mr. henderson turned aside. the last hope was gone. he sank down on the floor of the darkened cabin. just then mark happened to look at the bull's-eye. he saw a glimmer of light. then he noticed several fishes swimming about. the water was clear. the grass had disappeared from the vicinity of the window. "look!" cried mark to the professor. the inventor peered forth. as he did so he uttered a cry. then he staggered rather than ran to the engine room. "what are you doing?" he called to washington. "i jest let some ob de sulphuric acid out ob de storage battery tank," replied the colored man. "that's it! that's it!" exclaimed the professor. "quick, let some more out, washington. let out all there is in that tank. it will save our lives." wonderingly washington obeyed. the air in the ship was growing more foul every second. it was hard to breathe even on the floor, and all were gasping for breath. a few minutes more and they would all become unconscious and death would come in a little while if the air was not freshened. the professor staggered back to the main cabin. he looked out of the bull's-eye windows. then he exclaimed: "see, it is getting lighter! thank heaven we are saved!" the next instant the ship began to move backward. then with increasing speed it pulled out of the grip of the long grass, and in another minute was floating on top of the water, at the edge of the sargasso sea. "quick! open the man hole cover!" said amos henderson. washington threw back the lever cams, and in rushed the fresh air. it was a blessed relief from the terrible oppressiveness of the foul atmosphere of the boat. they all breathed deeply, and, in a few minutes the effects of their long imprisonment had passed off. they went out on the small deck. it was getting dusk, and the reflection of the red sunset shone brightly on the heaving water. "i 'spected i'd neber see dis again," said washington. "thought suah i was a gone chicken!" "we had a most fortunate escape," said the professor. "you did the trick for us when you let the acid run from that tank into the sea. it mingled with the water and burned or ate through the stems of the grass so they no longer held the ship. i saw what had happened as soon as i looked out of the bull's-eye, and that's why i had you turn out all the acid you could. it was just as if liquid fire had touched the sea weed and burnt it off." "golly!" exclaimed washington. "fust i know i'll be a perfessor myself!" supper was eaten with the ship on the surface of the ocean, for it was impossible to go below until the leak in the air tanks had been repaired. work was begun on this the next day, and though it proved a difficult job it was accomplished by mr. henderson and the boys. there were several minor repairs to be made to the machinery, and it was a week before all was in readiness for another descent beneath the waves. in the meanwhile the craft had moved slowly southward on the surface, where no very great speed was possible. toward evening, on the seventh day after their adventure with the sargasso sea, the travelers closed the man hole, and with air tanks well filled slowly sank beneath the waves. supper was eaten at a depth of sixty feet, and after the meal, while washington was washing the dishes, the others sat and looked out through the bull's-eyes at the big fishes which floated past. "i wouldn't like to catch one of them air things on my hook an' line," observed bill, as a particularly large fish went past. "i reckon i'd have trouble landin' him." "more likely he'd pull you in," said mark. for several minutes they watched the strange procession of deep-sea life. presently jack, who was sitting near the engine room door, sprang up. at the same instant there was the sound of an explosion. "what's the matter?" cried the professor. "come quick!" yelled washington. "it's a fire!" yelled jack. "one of the electrical fuses has blown out, and the ship is on fire!" chapter xiii the ghost of the submarine they all rushed toward the engine room. it was dark, because the lights had gone out all over the ship, and they could see only by the glare of the flames, which were increasing. "light one of the oil lanterns!" called the professor, and bill did so. "unreel the hose," the inventor continued, and mark and jack ran to do this. in a few minutes the line was stretched into the engine room, and water was being thrown on the flames, for washington had started the pump as soon as he saw the conflagration. the fire was in one corner, near the electrical switch board, and had been caused by the blowing out of one of the fuses, which occasioned the little explosion. the wood work near the switches was blazing fiercely, and soon the ship was filled with smoke. "empty the ballast tanks!" called the professor. "we must rise to the surface!" "we'll all be burned up!" cried tom. "first we nearly smother and then we get on fire. neber saw such luck!" with a rush the _porpoise_ began to rise, as her tanks were lightened. with steady hands, though with fear in their hearts, jack and mark continued to play the water on the flames, while the professor and washington got out a second line and aided them. "the fire is dying out!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "we'll soon get the best of it." in five minutes the worst was over, though it had been an anxious time, and one of danger. the ship came to the surface, and the open man-hole let out the thick smoke that had nearly suffocated the travelers. as soon as it was cool enough in the engine room an examination was made of the damage done. it was not as bad as the professor had feared, and the running part of the ship was not harmed. a new fuse was put in and the electric lights turned on. the night was spent with the ship floating on the surface of the ocean, only enough speed being kept up to give her steerage way. the professor did not want to go below the waves until he had repaired the switch board. watch was kept, for, though they were out of the regular line of ocean travel, there was no telling when a vessel might come along and run them down, for the _porpoise_ did not show above the waves more than a few feet, and carried no lights. mark had the watch just after midnight, and was sitting in the conning tower, the door of which opened out on the small deck. he had swept the surface of the water with powerful glasses and was sure there were no ships in sight. so, feeling that he would like to stretch his legs, he walked up and down on the platform. he had reached the after end, and was about to turn and go back, when he was startled to see between him and the conning tower a white object. at first mark thought it was a cloud of mist, or something the matter with his eyes. he rubbed them, but the object did not disappear. then it moved, and, to his horror mark saw that it had the shape of a man, tall and thin. the two arms were outstretched, and to mark's imagination seemed to be pointed toward him. in spite of trying not to be, mark was frightened. he did not believe in ghosts, and had always felt that all stories about them were due to persons' imaginations. now he saw something that was hard to explain. as he watched it, the white object turned and glided without making the slightest noise, toward the conning tower. it entered and mark breathed a sigh of relief. perhaps, after all, it was some one from down in the cabin, maybe the professor himself in his night shirt, who had come up to see that all was right. "i'll go and look," said mark to himself. he had to nerve himself for the ordeal, as, in spite of assuring himself that there were no such things as ghosts, he was frightened. it was absolutely quiet. the only sound was the gentle swish of the water against the sides of the ship. the engine was running so slowly that it caused no noise. half way on his journey to the conning tower mark paused. there, advancing toward him, was the white object. with outstretched arms it glided nearer and nearer until mark's heart was beating as if it would burst through his ribs. his mouth was dry and he could not have cried out had he tried. there was a splash in the water off to the left as some big fish sprang out and dropped back again. involuntarily mark turned in that direction. then he thought of the ghost and looked for it again. to his surprise the white object was nowhere to be seen! the boy waited a few minutes, and then, screwing up his courage, he went to the tower. there was no one inside, and, along the length of deck nothing was to be seen of the ghost. "i wonder if i have been asleep and dreaming," the boy asked himself. he gave his leg a pinch, and the sensation of pain told him he was not slumbering. "well, i'll say nothing about it," mark went on to himself. "they'll only laugh at me." entering the tower mark looked for the glasses in order to make another observation. he could not find them, yet he was sure he had left them on a shelf in the tower. "i wonder if the ghost took them," he said. he heard some one coming up the iron stairs of the small companionway that led down into the interior of the ship through the man-hole. at first he thought it was his queer midnight visitor returning. then the head and shoulders of jack appeared. "i've come to relieve you," said jack. "your watch is up; it's two o'clock. here are the night glasses. i found them on the cabin table. i thought you had them with you." "i did," replied mark. "then how did they get below?" "i--i don't know," said mark. the mystery was deepening, yet he did not want to tell jack just yet. "well, that's queer," remarked jack. "maybe the captain came up and got them while you were asleep." "i didn't go to sleep," answered mark rather crossly. jack said nothing more, but took his place in the conning tower, while mark went below. thinking to discover if the ghost might by any chance have been one of the persons on the _porpoise_, mark looked into each bunk. from the captain to washington, all the inmates were peacefully slumbering. "queer," murmured jack, as he took a look into the engine room before turning in. the engine needed no attention, as it worked automatically, and all there was to do was to steer the ship. even this needed little care as the course was a straight one, and the wheel could be locked, leaving the lookout little to do. "did you see anything during your watch?" asked mark of jack the next morning. "see anything? what do you mean?" "i mean anything unusual." "nothing, only a school of porpoises went past and gave me a little scare. they were like a lot of water kittens at play." mark concluded he would say nothing of the white visitor until he ascertained whether any one else had seen it. it was several nights later, when the ship was once more proceeding slowly along the surface of the water, that the ghost again appeared. this time washington had the midnight watch. but the colored man was not one to remain quiet when he had such a scary visitor, and his yells aroused the ship. "it's a ghostess! a big white ghostess!" yelled washington. "i don seen it wid my eyes, an' it waved his arms at me. i's goin' to die suah!" "what's all this nonsense?" demanded the professor sternly. then washington, more or less excitedly, told of what he had seen. it was just as it had happened to mark. "you were dreaming," said the professor to washington. "there are no such things as ghosts." every one, from old andy to tom and bill, had been roused by washington's cries, and listened to his story. at the close of the recital of how the white thing had suddenly disappeared, washington refused to continue his watch, unless some one stayed with him. mark volunteered to do this. he was anxious to see if the ghost would reappear to him. but nothing happened; and the rest of the night passed off quietly. the next day the _porpoise_ was taken below the surface, in order to allow of better speed being made. she was running along, submerged to a depth of two hundred feet, when there came a sudden jar, and the ship stopped. "more trouble!" exclaimed the professor. he opened the slide covering the bull's-eye windows and looked out. all about was swirling muddy water. "can you see anything?" the inventor called to jack, who was in the conning tower. "we've run into a mud-bank, and are stuck fast," called back the boy. chapter xiv digging out the ship "reverse the engine!" called the professor. "maybe we can back the ship out." washington set the big screw to revolving in the opposite direction. the _porpoise_ shook and shivered but the mud held her fast. "we must have gone in pretty deep," commented amos henderson. "luckily it was soft mud instead of a rocky reef or we'd have damaged the ship beyond repair." for several minutes the engines were kept on the reverse, but all to no purpose. the sticky mud was like glue in its holding power and the ship had buried her prow deep into it. "i guess we'll have to dig our way out," said the professor, after taking a careful view of the big mud bank from the conning tower. "washington, get out the diving suits and the spades." "are we really going out in the water to dig?" asked tom. "of course," said mr. henderson. "you'll be as safe as in the ship, wearing one of my diving suits. we'll all have to help, for it will be quite a task." the queer suits were brought out, and the reservoirs in the helmets were filled with compressed air. it was decided to have washington remain within the _porpoise_, to watch the machinery and start the engine when the digging was partly done, in order to see if the ship would not pull herself free when some of the mud had been removed from the prow. "and we may need washington for another purpose," said the professor. "what for?" asked mark. "well, he'll have to stay by the diving tank, to let us in quickly in case of emergency." "do you think there'll be an emergency?" asked jack. "you never can tell," was the answer. "we are in deep water, and i don't want any accidents to happen." in a few minutes all save washington were in their diving suits and ready to go out and walk on the bottom of the sea. they entered the tank, the door was closed, and then water was slowly admitted from the ocean. when the tank was full, led by the professor, they stepped out on the muddy floor of the ocean. at first the pressure of the water at so great a depth bothered them. but, as we know, the diving suits were reinforced with plates of steel, and so strong that little more than an extra weight of water was noticed. they soon became used to it. each one carried a spade, while the professor, andy and the boys each had, slung about their necks by straps, one of the electric guns. cautiously they walked toward the big mud bank. they had to go slowly because of the weight of the water above them, and because they might at any minute step into some muck hole and sink down. fortunately, however, they found there was a firm bottom right up to where the bank of mud reared upward. turning on the electric lights in their helmets, the voyagers were able to see quite distinctly. the _porpoise_ had rammed her nose into the under-water hill for a distance of about ten feet. it was going to be no easy matter to get her free, but the divers lost no time. vigorously they attacked the big hill of mud. they dug their spades in and tossed the earth to one side. it was a strange place to work. at first the weight of water hampered every one, but they soon became used to it and were able to proceed more rapidly. from the conning tower washington kept watch of their progress. when they had gone in about five feet he started the engines, hoping the _porpoise_ might now pull herself free. but the mud still held. by signs, for it was of course impossible for any one to hear or speak, attired as they were in helmets and suits, the professor motioned that they must dig deeper. once more they attacked the big mud bank with their shovels. farther and farther they went into the muck until it seemed that the nose of the submarine must be free. but when washington started the engines it was obvious that the ship was still held. again the digging was resumed. all at once, while every one was wielding his spade to best advantage, a shadow seemed to cover the water. it loomed up large and black, and the professor stopped and gazed upward. what he saw made him drop his spade and grab the gun that was about his neck. floating in the water above the diggers, were three immense sharks. their cruel mouths were partly open, showing three rows of big teeth, and they were slowly turning over on their backs to make a sudden rush and devour the men and boys. owing to the peculiar shape of its maw a shark can not bite until it turns over. the professor motioned for bill and tom to move behind him, and signalled for jack, mark and andy to stand close with their weapons ready. the sharks floated lazily downward as if they knew they had the diggers at their mercy. to run and escape was impossible, for no one could run hampered by the weight of water and his diving suit. one of the terrible fish opened its mouth wider and, with a flirt of its tail aimed straight for the professor. mr. henderson raised his gun, and took careful aim at the middle of the fish, half turned over. unerringly the electric bullet sped on its way. it entered the soft under part of the shark, and immediately the thing struggled in its death agony. the water was dyed with blood. at the same instant the other sharks rushed forward in a swirl of foam. the boys and andy fired as best they could, and must have hit one of the creatures for there was a greater commotion. but the fight was not over. instantly the ocean seemed alive with the giant fish. attracted by the blood of the killed ones, scores of the tigers of the seas rushed toward the scene of combat making matters livelier than ever. the professor, the boys and andy fired their guns at random. redder and more red became the water until their helmet lamps barely glowed in the crimson sea. it seemed that a whole army of the voracious sharks had attacked them. the professor realized that to stay and attempt to fight all the sharks in that part of the ocean was impossible. he motioned for the boys and andy to follow him. then he slowly led the way back to the ship. but the sharks were not to be gotten rid of so easily. several of the largest followed the diggers, their horrible eyes, and big mouths with rows of cruel teeth, striking terror to the hearts of all. one of the creatures made a rush for bill and tom who were close together. either or both of the men would have been bitten in twain, in spite of the protection of their diving suits, had not mark, with a snap shot, killed the fierce fish. it was now a running fight, and yet not so much that, because to run was impossible. however, they hurried all they could, and, by dint of quick firing kept the ugly creatures at bay until the side of the ship, where the diving tank was placed, was reached. the professor stepped to one side, and motioned for the others to proceed him in entering. little time was lost. as bill, the last one in, stepped past the steel door the inventor attempted to enter. to do so he had to let go of his gun. instantly one of the sharks made a rush for the old man. but andy was on the watch. he leaned forward, and, from his weapon sent a bullet straight down the throat of the monster. the electric missile did its work well, and the lifeless body of the shark was devoured by the others of its tribe. the professor pulled the door shut behind him. then he set the pump to work to empty the tank. as he did so there was a tremor to the ship. what could it mean? in a few minutes the tank was empty and the divers stepped out into the ship, freed from the oppressive weight of water. the ship continued to vibrate and seemed to be in motion. "what is it?" asked mark as soon as he had his helmet off. "de ship am free! we've got off de mud bank!" exclaimed washington, running in from the engine room. it was true. enough had been dug so that, with the power of the screw working backward, there was sufficient force to pull the _porpoise_ from her perilous position. "empty the tanks and rise to the surface," said the professor. in a few minutes the ship was on top of the waves, the adventurers freed from the double danger of the mud and sharks. they congratulated each other on the good outcome of the fight with the monster fishes. wearied with their labors and the battle under the waves, the travelers sat up on the deck breathing in the fresh breeze. then, after a while, supper was made ready and eaten with good appetites. it was decided hereafter to sail along near the surface at night, and not to submerge the ship deeply save during daylight, when it was easier to distinguish objects under the water. following this plan the _porpoise_ steamed along just awash that night, and the next day was sent down about fifty feet below the surface. one afternoon, when the travelers were resting, having partaken of a fine meal, the professor went on deck to make some observations, the ship having been raised for that purpose. he came down, somewhat excited. "well, we're half way to the pole," he announced. "how can you tell?" asked mark. "because we have just crossed the equator. we went over the imaginary line three minutes ago." "i was wondering what made it so warm," said jack. "i guess you dreamed it was hotter," spoke the professor. "it has been just as hot as this for the last few days. crossing the line makes no difference." "then we are really in the southern hemisphere now," said mark. "that's where we are," replied mr. henderson. he put his instruments away. "well, we may as well go below the surface again," he remarked. "come quick! hurry up!" yelled washington from the deck. "dar's a shipwreck up heah! somebody's on it!" chapter xv the strange shipwreck the professor, followed by the boys and tom, bill and andy hastened on deck. they saw washington pointing excitedly off to the west. there, rising and falling on the easy swell, was the wreck of a large vessel. she had been a three masted schooner, but now only the stumps of the masts remained and the craft was rolling to and fro. it had settled low in the water, and was quite deep by the head, so that, at times, the waves broke over the bow in a shower of spray. but what attracted the attention of the adventurers more than anything else was the sight of two figures near what had been the after cabin of the ship. there they stood, frantically waving their hands toward those on the submarine. across the water that separated the two craft, there came a faint hail. "i suppose they are nearly dead," exclaimed the inventor. "we must save them." he ordered the _porpoise_ sent ahead slowly toward the wreck. the distance was about half a mile, and was soon covered. as the submarine approached closer those on the schooner could be observed more plainly. "one of 'em is a woman!" exclaimed jack, who was using the glasses. "let me see," spoke the professor. "you're right," he added. "the other is a little girl." a few minutes later the _porpoise_ was alongside. the woman and child came to the rail of the schooner, which was barely five feet above the waves. "can you jump down, or shall i come aboard and get you?" asked mr. henderson seeing the woman hesitate. "i can jump down, if you will catch the child," said the woman. "oh i am so glad you came," she added. "we are almost dead from hunger and thirst, and the wreck is ready to sink and cannot last many hours longer." "pass the little girl down to me," spoke andy. "then you jump. we'll save you all right." the little girl reached the deck in safety, and the woman, who proved to be her mother, followed. "now take us to your ship," said the woman. "you must be a long way from her, as she is not in sight." "our ship is right here," spoke mr. henderson with a smile. "where, i don't see her," and the woman looked in all directions. "allow me to introduce you to profess amos henderson's famous submarine, the _porpoise_," spoke the inventor with a bow. "but come, let us go below. you must be suffering, and here i am making speeches." "indeed i am hungry, and thirsty too," said the woman. "so is nellie. but i thought this was merely a small boat, sent from some large ship to get us." the woman and girl descended to the cabin of the submarine, where washington set before them a fine meal. under the advice of the professor they partook sparingly of food and drink at first, as, having eaten nothing in many hours, the inventor said they must begin by taking a little at a time. as soon as they had finished and become somewhat rested, the woman told her story. she was mrs. johnson, a widow, her husband having once owned and been captain of the schooner that was wrecked. after his death she and her daughter, having become part owners of the craft, disposing of a third interest to the former mate of the ship, had set out on one of the voyages to south american ports. they had had good weather going, and took on a valuable cargo of lumber and rare woods. but the return trip was more perilous. heavy storms had buffeted the craft almost from the time of leaving port, and in one heavy blow, ten days before, the ship had been wrecked. "what became of the crew?" asked mr. henderson. "they took to the boats," replied mrs. johnson. "my little girl and myself were to go with the mate and his men. the waves were fearfully high, and, as they held the boat close to the schooner so we could get in, a big roller smashed the little craft. the men must have all been drowned for i never afterwards caught sight of one of them." "but the other boats?" asked the inventor. "they had gotten too far away to hail, supposing that i would be taken care of by the mate. there was nothing for nellie and i to do but stay on board, expecting the ship to sink every minute." "and you have been there ever since?" inquired andy. "ever since. that was ten days ago. every day i thought it would be our last. the storm passed away and the sea became calm but the ship kept settling lower and lower. only the fact that part of the cargo was wood kept her afloat so long. i managed to get some provisions and water up on deck, but the sea had spoiled most of the stuff. we had to eat only a little at a time, as i knew it would be some days before we could be rescued, if we ever were. two days ago we ate the last of the food and drank almost the last of the water." "then you had nothing since then," spoke jack. "only a few drops of rain that i caught on a piece of sail," answered mrs. johnson. "never mind, you can have all you want now, mother," said nellie, coming over to pat her parent's cheek. "oh," the child went on, "i was so thirsty i could just cry when i thought of such things as ice cream sodas." "i guess you could," agreed mark. "well, we can't give you any soda water, but we have plenty of the other kind." mrs. johnson was much interested in the _porpoise_ and professor henderson showed her all about the craft. though the quarters were rather cramped, a small cabin was fitted up for the lady and her daughter. "we will travel a bit under the water so you can get used to it," said the captain after a tour of the ship had been made. the tanks were filled, and the _porpoise_ sank beneath the waves. at first mrs. johnson was much frightened, and nellie cried. but when they saw how skillfully the ship was managed, and how easy it was to rise again, they lost their fears. for several days the voyage was continued. mrs. johnson and nellie remained aboard as there was no place to land them, and they said they wished to stay until they met some ship sailing north. one day, just at dusk, when the _porpoise_, after a long run under the water had come to the surface, the professor, came up on deck to take a look around. washington and andy accompanied him. "looks like land, off there to the left," remarked the old hunter. "get the glasses, washington," said mr. henderson. "it may be a ship." he took a long and careful look through the binoculars. "it's some sort of land," he announced. "we'll go over in the morning and see what it is. probably it's an island, for there's no main land in these parts. we are in the middle of the southern atlantic now." the next morning, after breakfast, the _porpoise_ was headed toward the dark spot on the surface of the water that the professor had gazed at the evening before. as they came nearer it was seen that the place was a large island. "but it's a mighty queer one," spoke mr. henderson. "it looks more like a big volcano than anything else." as the ship came nearer it was seen that this was true. the island rose abruptly from the surface of the sea in a big ridge, slightly rounded. there appeared to be no signs of life on the land, but in the air overhead hovered several big birds. these circled about and then fluttered down, seemingly about the middle of the island. "we'll sail around and see if there's a place to land," spoke the inventor. "there doesn't seem to be a good harbor on this side." slowly the _porpoise_ made the circuit. the island appeared to be almost round. when they had gone about half way around andy, who was staring ahead, cried out: "look out professor! don't go any nearer or we'll be sucked into the whirlpool!" the inventor looked where the hunter pointed. then he beheld the strangest sight he had ever seen. the island was low toward where andy pointed and they beheld the waters of the ocean pouring over the edge of it, and falling down into an immense hole with a roar like that of niagara falls. "reverse the ship!" cried professor henderson. "send her back quickly, washington, or we'll be sucked down!" the colored man lost no time, and the big screw was sent whirling in the opposite direction. and it was high time, for already the onward rush of the falling waters was slowly drawing the ship toward the big cavern. "that was a lucky escape," commented amos henderson. "well, as we can't land there we'll try the other way around." the ship was headed in the opposite direction, and, after an hour's sailing, a good harbor was discovered. the _porpoise_ was anchored in shallow water close to the shore and in a small boat the professor, andy and the two boys went to the strange island. they found it merely an immense circle of land with the middle part taken up by the big hole. and such a hole as it was! it was so wide across that they could not see the farther side, and the depth they could only guess at. looking down they could only see great rolling masses of clouds or vapor. "perhaps it's steam," suggested jack. "maybe it is," agreed the professor. "if this is a volcano, with lava in it, the water of the ocean, pouring in on the other side, may be changed to steam." "do you suppose this hole leads to the centre of the earth?" asked mark. "i've read somewhere, that the earth is hollow." "some scientists believe it," commented the professor. "this looks like a big enough hole to lead clear through to china. hark, you can hear the roar of the water now." they listened, and the wind brought to them the sound of the sea pouring down into the unfathomable depths. "let's throw a big rock down," suggested jack. "maybe we can hear it strike bottom." with the aid of mark he cast a big boulder down into the depths. they listened intently, but not the slightest sound echoed back. "i guess the bottom is too far away for you to hear the stone land," said the professor. chapter xvi the ghost again they spent some time looking down into the hole. the masses of vapor, or clouds, rolled and swirled hundreds of feet below them, but never broke sufficiently to allow of a clear sight. "well, we had better go back to the ship," remarked the professor. "we must continue our voyage." they were soon on the _porpoise_ and steaming away from the strange island, the inventor deciding to get far off out of the influence of the terrible waterfall. the night was, as usual, spent with the ship slowly steaming ahead on the surface of the water. it was getting on toward twelve o'clock and washington had the watch. he was to be relieved by jack. the latter had been awakened by the alarm clock at the head of his bed, which time-piece he had set to arouse him so that he might take washington's place. jack was just getting the sleep from his eyes by a vigorous rubbing when he heard a loud yell. "land a' massy!" cried washington from the deck above. "i's goin' t' die suah! de ghostess am after me ag'in!" without waiting to dress, jack sprang up the ladder and was soon out on the deck. he saw washington kneeling down in front of the conning tower door while, at the after end of the deck, was a mysterious white object; the same strange shape that had been observed before. "i'm going to solve this puzzle!" exclaimed jack to himself as he made a dive toward the object in white. "this ghost business will have to stop!" but, unfortunately for his plans, his foot slipped on the smooth steel deck, and he went down in a heap. when he got up the ghost was nowhere to be seen. washington, however, was still kneeling down and praying to be spared from the attack of the midnight visitor. jack limped over to the colored man. "keep still," said the boy. "it's gone now. what was it, anyhow?" "some ghost from de grabeyard," replied washington. "when did you see it first?" went on jack. "'bout ten minutes ago," replied washington. "well it's gone now," said jack, though he had to admit to himself that the affair was somewhat puzzling. professor henderson had been awakened by the yells of the colored man and came on deck to see what the trouble was. he appeared somewhat annoyed when washington told him what had happened. "there are no ghosts!" declared the inventor in positive tones. "you wouldn't say so, perfessor, if you'd seen him," spoke washington. "he were all in white, tall an' slim, an' big red eyes, an' a green nose, an' fire comin' from his mouth an'--" "nonsense," interrupted jack. "it was nothing but a white object, professor henderson. i saw it." "and what do you think it was?" asked the inventor. "i--i can hardly say," replied jack. "of course i don't believe in ghosts, but this--" "it was probably a mist from the ocean," interrupted the professor. "don't let me hear any more of it. washington, go below. your watch is up and jack will take charge. i don't believe there will be any more ghosts." nor were there that night. the _porpoise_ glided along, requiring little attention, and when morning broke was several miles nearer the southern pole. the journey was continued beneath the waves and it was found much cooler under them than upon the surface, for the ship was in the midst of the equatorial heat. about four o'clock in the afternoon, when all was quiet aboard, there came a sudden yell from the engine room. washington's voice could be heard calling for help. then it died away in a groan. "something has happened!" called jack. "washington is in trouble." he hurried toward where the machinery could be heard buzzing. the professor, with andy and mark followed. they expected to see the colored man caught in some shaft or belt, but he was nowhere in sight. "perhaps he has fallen into the ocean," suggested mark. "the engine room does not open into the sea," answered the professor. a deep groan came from some corner of the engine room. "there he is!" cried jack. but a careful search failed to reveal washington. still he could be heard to groan at intervals. bill and tom came and aided in the search, while mrs. johnson, who was worried at the unusual activity, asked what the trouble was. captain henderson did not tell her, for, as he said afterward, he did not want any women fainting away on his ship. at his request mrs. johnson went back to her cabin, and the hunt for washington continued. "here he is!" cried jack at last. the boy had climbed up on a small ladder that led to the big storage battery tanks. he had looked down, and there, in the large metal box had spied the colored man on the bottom. washington was unconscious and breathing heavily. "he has been overcome by the fumes of the sulphuric acid!" exclaimed the professor. "we must get him out quickly or he will die!" "i'll get him!" cried andy. the old hunter grabbed a small step ladder that stood against the wall of the engine room. with this on his shoulder he climbed up the steps which led to the top of the storage battery tank. then, by means of his ladder, he descended inside. he had to work quickly as the fumes were very strong, but he managed to hoist washington up so that bill and tom, from outside, could take hold of him. then the colored man was carried out on the deck, where the fresh air and some restoratives the professor used soon revived him. "is i dead," were washington's first words, as he sat up and looked about him. "not this time," replied the professor. "you had a close call, though. how did it happen?" washington explained that he started to clean the battery tank, when he lost his balance and fell in. he cried as he felt himself falling, but as soon as he struck the bottom of the tank the fumes of the chemicals made him unconscious. his deep breathing, which had sounded like groans, alone served to attract attention to his location. in a little while washington was all right save for a slight weakness. captain henderson made him go to his bunk, and ordered him to remain there until morning. during the excitement over washington's mishap all thought of steering the ship had been forgotten, and when mr. henderson went to the conning tower about five o'clock he found that the _porpoise_ was several points off her course and was headed to the east instead of to the south. how many miles out of her way the craft had steamed could only be guessed, but as she had been going wrong for nearly an hour, it must be quite a few the inventor calculated. however, he said, no great harm had been done. even this slight accident would not have happened had not bill, who was in the conning tower steering, forgotten to put the automatic device in operation when he left the wheel to join in the search for washington. "we'll soon make up the lost ground," said mr. henderson. "another week or ten days ought to see us at the end of our journey." "and what will we do when we get there?" asked jack. "we will make some important geographical and scientific observations," said the professor. "not only that, but we will have done something that no living person has ever accomplished. we reached the north pole, though we could not land on the exact spot. let us hope we will be more successful regarding the south pole." the professor set the ship on her course again. bill and tom got supper in place of washington, while mrs. johnson helped set the table. the meal was eaten, and then the inventor started the ship toward the surface, following the plan of not sailing beneath the waves after dark, in order to avoid accidents. the craft was making good speed ahead, with the big screw revolving in the tunnel and spurting the water from the rear, when there came a sudden jar, and everyone nearly toppled over from the quick stopping of the _porpoise_. at the same time the forward end seemed to go up in the air. "what has happened? are we sinking?" cried mrs. johnson. "i think we are going up," spoke the professor in cool tones. "in the air?" asked the lady. "on the land," answered the inventor. "i think we have struck shore and slid up on a beach." he ordered the engine stopped and hurried to the conning tower to make an observation. he turned on the searchlight and looked carefully at what the beams showed. then he came back to the cabin. "well, what is it?" asked mrs. johnson. "we have gone ashore, just as i supposed," said mr. henderson. "and whereabouts are we?" "on the coast of south america." "near where?" "near terra del fuego, the land of fire!" chapter xvii attacked by savages "are we in any danger?" asked mrs. johnson. "i hope not," replied the captain. "if the ship is not strained the rising tide will probably float her safely, and we can continue our trip. we will have to wait until morning to see, however." "and if the ship is damaged?" "we will have to do what we can. we will hope for the best, madam." the professor went on deck. his first opinion of the accident was confirmed. the _porpoise_, in emerging from the waves, had slid well up on a sandy shore, where she was held fast because the tide was rapidly falling. it would be twelve hours before there would be a chance of her floating again. the mishap had occurred because the ship had gotten off her course when washington's accident occurred, and had not been set right in time. however, as mr. henderson had said, there was no particular danger, unless it was found that some of the plates had been strained, which might cause a leak. the night was passed with the nose of the _porpoise_ well up on shore, and before morning, as the tide continued to fall, more and more of the craft became exposed until the whole steel body rested on the sloping beach. jack was the first to awaken. he was up with the sun, and went out on the deck to take a view of the country he had often heard about. a stretch of wild landscape met his eyes, and to the left and right of the ship the waves were breaking on jagged rocks. "it's a good thing we didn't hit the rocks," thought the youth. mark came up on deck, and the two boys looked over the scene. it was a strange one. beyond the beach was a low level country, green in places, with now and then a patch of what looked like trees. "and what are those brown spots moving about?" asked mark. "i guess they are herds of cattle," replied jack. "you know south america is a great place for them." for half an hour the two lads gazed about. except for the stern of the _porpoise_ all of the craft was now out of water, and one could have jumped from the low deck down to a mound of white sand of the beach. "let's go ashore and take a run," suggested mark. "i've almost forgotten how to walk on dry land." "go ahead," answered jack. "i'm with you." "all right." the boys lost no time in getting down to the beach. they found it hard and firm, and made their way to the strip of grass-covered land lying beyond. up and down they wandered, finding many curious and beautifully marked shells where the waves had washed them. suddenly jack gave a big jump and let out a yell. "what's the matter?" asked mark. "i thought i saw one of those cocoanuts move," answered jack, pointing to where several of the big shaggy fruits lay under a tree from which they had fallen. "i guess you're right," spoke mark. "i certainly saw one of them take a little side step. i wonder what does it." as the boys watched they were surprised, to see one of the cocoanuts come toward them, apparently advancing without any visible means of locomotion. "this is a queer country," remarked jack, getting ready to run in case the strangely moving cocoanut might be a warning of danger. "look! there's a whole lot of them moving," cried mark. sure enough a dozen or more of the nuts began to advance toward the lads. the boys were not so much afraid as they were surprised. but a few seconds later the reason for the strange sight was made plain. as they looked they saw one of the nuts roll down a little mound of sand. then they noticed that a big land crab was on the tiny hill and it was evident that the nut had fallen from his claws. "it's the crabs!" exclaimed mark. "i remember reading about them now. they come ashore from the water where they live part of the time and get the cocoanuts. then they smash the shells by pounding the nuts on a stone and eat the white meat inside. they are called cocoanut crabs." "i was beginning to think we were in some enchanted land," spoke jack. "well, it certainly looked queer," agreed mark. for some time the boys watched the strange sight. then they walked along the beach, seeing several large star fish, and some big horse-shoe crabs that had been stranded by the tide. "look at that immense turtle!" exclaimed mark, as one of the creatures scuttled over the sand toward the sea. "i'll bet she's been laying eggs!" "perhaps so." they made a rush for the tortoise but were not quick enough, for she slid into the water and made off. "here's her nest, anyhow," called jack, as he pointed to some eggs, thinly covered with sand. "let's go back and take them with us. i've heard they are good eating." jack and mark started to gather up as many of the eggs as they could in their hats. while they were thus engaged they heard a call from the ship and looked up to see coming toward them, all of the ship's company except washington. "i wonder if anything could have happened," spoke mark. he and jack dropped the eggs and started on a run toward the stranded ship. they were reassured, however, when they saw the professor waving his hand at them. when he got within hailing distance the inventor called: "it's all right, boys. we're just taking a little walk, before breakfast, for an appetizer. it's been some time since we were on land. washington says he'll have some fine fried ham for us in a little while." "and here are the eggs to go with it," spoke jack. "have you found a hen house?" asked mr. henderson in some wonder. "no, but we discovered a turtle, which is just as good," replied mark. the professor agreed with him, and called for washington to come and get the eggs. "wall i 'clare to goodness!" exclaimed the colored man as he gathered the product of the turtle up in his cook's apron. "dis suttinly am a queer contraption of a country to find eggs growin' in de sand." he shuffled back to the ship, while the others walked up and down on the beach. in about half an hour the professor suggested that they return. "washington must have breakfast ready by now," he said, "and i, for one, am hungry enough to enjoy it." they turned toward the stranded _porpoise_ but no sooner had their eyes taken in the sweep of the ocean that lay before them than they uttered cries of fear. spreading out from the beach in a big half circle that enclosed within its curve the submarine, were three score of canoes, each one filled with half naked savages. "the natives are going to attack the ship!" cried the professor. "we must hurry back or we are lost!" he started on the run, accompanied by the boys and men. mrs. johnson and her daughter brought up the rear. the adventurers had gone from one misfortune into another. at the top of their speed they approached the stranded ship. the natives saw them coming and the next instant hundreds of paddles broke the waves into a mass of sparkling water as the wily savages urged their canoes swiftly toward the submarine. "if we can only reach it first we can hold them off until the tide floats us, and then we can escape," said the professor. he increased his pace though the run was beginning to tell on his aged frame. the adventurers were now within an eighth of a mile of the ship, but the savages were closer, and had the advantage of being able to make greater speed. the two forces approached nearer and nearer. finally the first of the canoes reached the submerged end of the _porpoise_. with wild shouts a score of the brown men leaped from the boats and scrambled up the steel sides. an instant later they were joined by several canoe loads of their companions. they swarmed up on the deck, and some peered down the winding stairs that led to the interior of the ship. "too late!" cried the professor. "they have captured the _porpoise_!" "but washington is aboard!" shouted jack. as he spoke the colored man was seen clambering up out of the companion way. he gave one look at the wild natives who swarmed over the ship, and then, with a yell to be heard a long way off, disappeared below. the shouts and cries of the savages grew louder and they seemed to be doing a sort of war dance. "we must make one effort to drive them away," said the professor in desperation. "we haven't even a revolver," spoke andy. "let's use stones," suggested jack, grabbing up a handful from the beach. "look out!" yelled mark. "they are going to shoot some arrows!" a second later a flight of the weapons filled the air. fortunately the natives were too far away to permit the shots taking effect, but it showed that they intend to fight and take possession of the ship. even this did not frighten mr. henderson. his vessel was more than life to him and he kept on. several arrows fell dangerously close and he might have been hurt had not old andy run after him and induced him to go farther up the beach and out of harm's way. "they will kill washington!" cried jack as he thought of the colored man at the mercy of the savages. "there he comes!" yelled mark. he pointed toward the ship and as they all looked in that direction they saw the colored man climbing out on the deck. under one arm he bore a long narrow box, and in the other hand he carried one of the electric guns. "he's goin' to fight 'em!" exclaimed andy. "he's got a gun and he will show 'em what's what!" but washington did not seem to have any such intentions. with a yell that equalled the savage cries of the natives, he sprang over the side of the ship, onto the sand and ran toward the group of adventurers. a flight of arrows followed him, but he was not hit. chapter xviii on land "why don't he shoot his gun at 'em?" demanded andy, capering about on the sand. "he could soon scare 'em off!" "i'm afraid washington is too frightened to do anything like that," answered professor henderson. "he is lucky to have escaped alive." "wait until he gets here with that gun, an' i'll do some huntin' that will make them savages skip!" exclaimed andy. in a little while washington came up to where the others from the _porpoise_ stood on the beach. the colored man was panting from his run. "de most monstrous disproportionately extradition ob circumstantial occurrances dat ever transpositioned on my optical vasionariness!" he exclaimed as he laid his gun and the black box carefully down on the sand. "ten thousand naked imps of darkness swarmin' ober de ship an' not a pusson to say what dey ought to do an' where dey ought t' go! it am suttinly terrible!" "why didn't you shoot some of 'em?" demanded andy. "me?" exclaimed washington. "what for i want t' shoot 'em? s'pose i want 'em t' git mad at me?" "well, you're a great one," went on andy, picking up the gun. "i guess i'll have to take a few shots myself." "yes, sah." from washington the adventurers learned how the savages had silently come up in their canoes and surrounded the ship, gaining possession of it before he could make any effort at defense, even had he so desired. "what are we to do now?" asked mrs. johnson, when they had retreated out of sight of the savages. "the natives have possession of the boat, and how are we to regain her when there are so many of them?" "it certainly is a hard nut to crack," admitted the professor. "we will have to camp out on the beach for a while and see what happens. perhaps they may leave the vessel when they find it will do them no good. they can't run her." "but they can tear her all apart and damage the machinery," said jack. "then we would be in a pickle." "well, we won't hope for any such bad luck as that," interrupted the professor. "we will look for the best." "when are we going to have breakfast?" asked the little girl, after a long wait. "i'm hungry, mother." "we will have it pretty soon," replied mrs. johnson in order to quiet her daughter's mind. "but i want it now," continued nellie. "i'm very hungry." "hush!" said mrs. johnson. "an' i had de finest brekfust what was ever invented," said washington, rolling his big eyes. "mud turkle eggs, ham, preserves, coffee--" "that will do, washington," said the professor. "it only makes our mouths water to think about such things." at the mention of the turtle eggs jack nudged mark, and signalled him to walk to one side. when they were out of earshot of the others jack said: "what's the matter with cooking some of the eggs that are left on the sand? there are plenty of them, and there is no sense in our going hungry." "how you going to cook 'em?" asked mark. "i'll show you," replied jack. he scooped a hollow place out in the sand until he had quite a hole. this he banked up with stones until he had a small oven. by arching the stones over toward the top there was left a sort of circular opening. over this jack fitted a monster clam shell, with the concave side uppermost. this made an improvised stew pan. underneath was piled small bits of dry drift-wood, which a match soon set on fire. in a little while the water in the big shell was boiling. "now get some other shells for dishes," said jack to mark. soon mark had piled up a lot of smaller shells. "help me gather some eggs now," said jack, "and we'll put them in to boil. then we'll invite the rest of the folks to breakfast." the two boys soon uncovered from the sand a pile of the eggs, and in a little while they were steaming in the hot water. then jack arranged the shell-dishes on the sand. he went over to where the others were gloomily considering their plight. "breakfast is ready," he announced. "this isn't any time for joking," spoke professor henderson, rather sternly. "but i mean it," went on jack. "just come over and see. i'm not fooling you." wondering what he had done they all followed him. "welcome to hotel terra del fuego!" cried mark. "we haven't much of a variety, but what there is we can recommend." he began to dip the eggs out of the water with a bit of shell and placed them on the improvised dishes. "everyone sit down," commanded jack. "the bill of fare is ready." they all joined in the short laugh that followed, and soon were seated in a circle about the beach-oven. the eggs proved to be very good, even though there was no pepper. the salt of the sea water they were boiled in was more than sufficient. "now if there was only bread in that ammunition bag washington brought with the gun," said andy, "we wouldn't want a better meal." "he'p yo'se'f!" exclaimed the colored man with a grin as he extended a canvas bag that was tied to the stock of the electric gun. the old hunter opened it and found it filled with ship biscuits. "well i am stumped!" he exclaimed. "i grabbed up de wrong thing in my haste," washington explained. "i thought i had de electrical lightning bullets, but i didn't. howsomever de gun's got some in de chamber." "it's a lucky mistake," commented the professor as he munched a biscuit and an egg. "bullets are good but these are better, when one is hungry." they managed to make a fairly good meal, so that even hungry nellie was satisfied. the boys found a spring of fresh water up on shore, and this furnished something to drink, for which they were grateful. they sat about on the beach, after the breakfast and discussed what they had better do. it was evident that an attempt to regain possession of the ship, with their small force and only one weapon, was out of the question. "we've got to use strategy," said andy. "if we could play some trick on the savages we might scare them away. otherwise i don't see what we are to do." "it's a bad state of affairs," replied professor henderson. "even if we got the ship we might find it so badly damaged that it would be impossible to run it. it is a terrible thing," and he heaved a deep sigh. the hours passed with no change in the situation. the savages remained in possession of the submarine, and did not seem inclined to quit the vessel. most of them were inside, but quite a number paddled about the stranded craft in their canoes. there was nothing for the adventurers to do but to await developments. with no chance of attacking the force of natives, they might consider themselves lucky if the savages did not come ashore to give battle. the sun was high in the heavens when, in the shade of a big tree where they had all taken refuge from the heat, nellie again announced that she was hungry. "i guess the boys will have to provide another meal," said mr. henderson. jack and mark said they guessed they could find some more turtle eggs, and washington volunteered to accompany them. as they were looking for a nest in the sand they saw one of the tortoises scurrying down to the ocean. "git her, quick!" cried the colored man. "turn her ober on her back!" the boys did so, though they did not know what washington's object was. the big animal lay bottom side up, vainly moving its flippers. in a few minutes washington had killed the turtle and cut it out of the shell. "now we'll hab turtle soup!" he exclaimed. soon the fire was again blazing in the improvised stove, and a little later an appetizing smell filled the air. washington had made the soup, and, in addition, had cooked a number of the turtle eggs. big clam shells again served for dishes and a better meal than the breakfast was served. "now if we only had some dessert," spoke mr. henderson in a joking tone, "we wouldn't want much more. but i suppose dessert is out of the question." jack and mark looked at each other and, without a word went off toward the woods. in a little while they came back, their arms filled with cocoanuts. "how will these do for dessert?" asked jack. "fine!" cried mr. henderson. the fruit was broken open with stones and the delicious milk and soft pulp eaten with much relish. then the adventurers stretched out beneath the trees and rested. the thoughts of each one were busy with plans for recovering the submarine, though no one seemed to be able to suggest any thing. it was getting dusk, when, somewhat discouraged over the result of the visit of the savages, they were all seated on the beach. they were beginning to think again of something to eat when andy sudds, discovered the long black box which washington had brought with him in his flight from the _porpoise_, and dropped in a hollow. "i suppose you've got something very fine in there, washington?" "i declare to goodness i don't know what dat air contraption am conglomerated with," said the colored man. "i jest grabbed it up and run." the old hunter had, in the meanwhile, taken the cover off. "what in the world have we struck," he exclaimed. "sky rockets!" cried jack, with a glance at the contents of the box. "yes," said professor henderson. "i took some aboard in case we might have to signal for help on the water." "hurrah!" yelled andy. "what's the matter?" asked jack. "we'll use the sky rockets as weapons against the natives!" shouted the old hunter, capering about on the sand. chapter xix regaining the ship at first the others did not know what he meant. andy seemed much excited, and for a time the professor thought the heat and worry might have affected the hunter's mind. "we'll show 'em a thing or two!" cried andy. "i once scared a lot of indians this way so they didn't know whether they were on their head or their feet. hurrah!" "what are you talking about?" asked mr. henderson. "hadn't you better sit down and rest a bit?" "i'm all right," replied andy. "i'm talking about those sky rockets. they'll be better than bullets. you see," he went on, "after it gets dark we'll shoot the rockets over the ship. the savages will think they are in the midst of a lot of falling stars, and if they don't take to their boats and leave us the ship i'll miss my guess, that's all." "good!" exclaimed the inventor. "we'll try it." the rockets were taken out and examined. they were big affairs of several pound weight and were intended for far-off signalling at sea. andy, with the aid of the boys, tom and bill, soon constructed a rough sort of support from which to set off the fire-works. as soon as it grew dark, which it did about seven o'clock, preparations were made to try the experiment. with a whizz and roar the first rocket went sailing skyward. up through the black night it went, trailing behind it a shower of fire and sparks. then, with a loud report like that of a gun it burst directly over the ship and a rain of brilliantly colored globes of flame descended. "shot number one!" cried andy, who was setting off the rockets. for a few seconds after the first flight there came no sound from the natives at the ship. then, just as the second rocket was set off there issued a long-drawn howl, which was succeeded by cries of fear. "we've waked 'em up!" shouted jack. in rapid succession several more rockets were sent over the _porpoise_. by the light of them could be seen a mass of natives crowded out on the small deck, while others were in their canoes. "i think i'll try it a little lower this time," remarked andy. "maybe i can hit some of 'em!" he slanted the support closer to the ground and set off two rockets at once. straight across the sandy beach they flew, directly toward the crowd of natives on the ship. right into the midst of the savages the trailing comet of fire shot, with a hiss, roar and sputter that was enough to strike terror into the bravest heart. there was a long piercing howl of fear. then, as the natives felt the hot sparks scatter over their half-naked bodies, they broke into a wild stampede. over the side of the ship they plunged, into the sea, and swam off. those in boats paddled quickly away. for good measure andy sent another rocket into the midst of the fleeing ones, and this served to quicken their departure. by the light of the last one it could be seen that the ship was deserted, though the water all about her was black with the swimming savages, and the canoes. "i guess they won't come back in a hurry!" cried andy. "come on! we'll board the ship now, and get the electric guns to ward off any further attacks!" "that's the talk!" cried mark. toward the _porpoise_ all started on a run. as they neared her they found that the rising tide had floated her. "we must see if the natives damaged her," spoke mr. henderson as soon as he set foot on deck. "if they have it will be a hard matter to make repairs so far from civilization." a hasty examination, however, showed that the savages had disturbed little. the engine was soon set in motion, and, in ten minutes the ship was steaming away from the coast, headed toward the south, the goal they were so eagerly seeking. as soon as they were well out to sea, and all sight of the canoes of the savages had been lost, supper was served, and all brought good appetites to the table. for, though the improvised meals on shore had tasted good, there had not been much to them. for several days the _porpoise_ was kept on her course, sailing along under the water by day, and upon the surface at night. it was one pleasant afternoon, while nellie, jack and mark were sitting out on the deck, during one of the times when the boat had risen to the surface to renew the air supply, that a strange commotion was observed off their lee. the ocean seemed to be boiling. "what is that?" asked the little girl. the two boys looked to where she pointed. indeed the ocean seemed to be bubbling up and down in a strange manner. "it's a school of porpoises," said jack. just then the water became alive with big fish. they leaped over each other, springing high into the air and falling back into the sea with resounding splashes. "they're not porpoises! they're whales! baby whales!" yelled mark. "look out or some of the big ones may ram the boat!" as he spoke the water all about the submarine was seen to be fairly swarming with the small whales. there were scores of them, and, at times, they were so thick that it appeared possible to walk out upon them without getting very deep into the water. suddenly the ship careened to one side and the sea rushed over the deck. it was evident that one of the big whales, which were deeper down in the water, had struck the vessel. nellie screamed and tried to grab the hand rail that was about the platform. she missed her grip. the next instant she was floundering in the ocean, in the midst of the school of whales. "man overboard!" yelled jack, remembering vaguely that he had read this was the proper call to make in case of accident. his cry brought washington and the professor up the companionway on the jump. "launch the boat!" cried the inventor as he saw what had happened. mark was already in action. at the first sight of nellie slipping over the side he had thrown off his coat, broken the laces of his shoes in order the more quickly to remove the foot coverings, and had dived into the swirling water which surrounded the submarine. he struck out in the direction where the little girl had disappeared, and as her golden head appeared above the mass of foam he yelled in encouragement. by this time the small boat was launched and the colored man and jack were pulling toward him. mark succeeded in reaching nellie as she was going down the second time. he grabbed her long locks and managed to keep her up until the little craft was alongside of him. "git in quick, 'fore dem whales eat yo' up!" cried washington. he hauled the unconscious child in first, and then jack gave mark a hand. as if by magic all the whales had disappeared and the sea was quiet again. in a few minutes the rescuers and the rescued one went back again on the _porpoise_, where professor henderson soon brought nellie around again. beyond the shock and wetting neither she nor mark was harmed. it was jack's watch on deck that night. he had the tour from eight until twelve o'clock and when, about ten, every one but himself had retired, he took his position in the door of the conning tower and prepared to pass the time as best he could. the ship was moving along at half speed, and, as the automatic steering attachment was working jack had little to do. he sat looking at the stars that twinkled in the sky, the blazing southern cross showing among the constellations, when he heard a slight noise near the companionway. he looked in that direction and, to his horror, he saw the ghostly white shape that had, on previous occasions, caused him and the others fright. at first the boy resolved to shut himself up in the tower and wait until the uncanny thing had disappeared. then his courage came back and he thought he would try to solve the mystery. he argued that if the weird white object was human and could witness his movements the best thing to do would be to try and creep upon it unobserved. on the contrary, if the ghost was some natural phenomenon, or a supernatural agent, all he could do would be of no avail. so he decided the best thing to do would be to crawl upon the thing, keeping as near to the deck as possible and trying to hide himself. with this in view he put on a long rain coat that hung in the conning tower, and then, like a snake, commenced to wiggle his way toward the middle of the platform where the white object still stood. nearer and nearer to it jack came. his heart was beating fast and he was much frightened, but he nerved himself to continue. as he came closer he could see that the object looked more and more like a man, completely robed in white garments. jack was now within ten feet of the strange object. it was a man, he was sure of it, but whether a present or former inhabitant of the earth he could not decide. jack's hair was beginning to raise. a cold shiver ran down his spine as the white thing lifted an arm and seemed to point directly at him. at the same time it groaned in a deep tone. jack let out a yell that could be heard all over the ship. he made a spring for the object, determined to discover what it was or die. at that instant the whole ship seemed to rise in the air. it left the water and began moving skyward. right out of the waves the _porpoise_ was lifted until the big screw was clear of the water and it was churning around in the tunnel without any resistance, racing at top speed now that it had no water to thrust against. then the ghost seemed to vanish into thin air, and jack felt himself falling down the hatchway. chapter xx on a volcanic island in an instant the ship was in confusion. the professor, followed by old andy, washington, mark, bill and tom, came rushing from their berths, all in their night clothing, to see what the trouble was. they met in a tangled mass, stumbling over jack at the foot of the steps. "is the ship on fire?" called mrs. johnson from her cabin. "i hope not!" called the professor. "but something has happened. don't be frightened!" by this time jack, who had been somewhat stunned, recovered his senses and worked his way out of the mass of bodies. "the ghost! the ghost!" he cried. "i saw him again!" "land a' massy!" yelled washington. "what has happened to the ship?" cried the professor. "is it a tidal wave?" "i was on deck," panted jack. "i saw the white thing! i crept up on it! all at once the ship rose in the air!" "and it's still rising!" shouted the inventor. "i must see what this means!" he made his way to the deck, and his loud shout soon brought the others up to him. "shut off the engine!" mr. henderson called down to washington, who hurried to obey. "what has happened?" asked andy, rushing towards him. "we have run upon an island," answered the professor. "this is the worst thing that has yet happened to us." "what sort of an island is it that shoots you up in the air?" asked the old hunter. "it's hard to say," replied mr. henderson. "we will have to wait until morning to find out." the boys and men went up on deck and there beheld a curious sight. the _porpoise_ had been lifted bodily from the surface of the ocean where she had been sailing and was now raised about ten feet above the crest of the billows. it was too dark to see the extent of the island she rested on, but, from the circle of foam around the outer edge it did not appear to be very big. the excitement occasioned by the appearance of the ghost, jack's yells and fall, and the rising of the ship, had subsided somewhat. mrs. johnson and her daughter, who were much frightened, were assured there was no immediate danger, and the men and boys put on more substantial clothing than that of their night robes. it seemed as if morning would never come, but at length there was a pale light in the east and soon it changed to a rosy glow, showing that the sun was coming. the professor was early on deck, and mark and jack were not far behind. as soon as it was light enough they could see that the ship was held fast on top of a small rocky isle, about one hundred feet in diameter, which rose abruptly from the water. "it's a volcanic island," decided the professor. "we are in the midst of subterranean disturbances and this is probably one of the effects of some under-sea eruption. the pinnacle of rock rose from the ocean, forced up by some power underneath, just as our ship came over it. that accounts for the sudden rising into the air of the _porpoise_. no wonder we were all scared." "the next question," began old andy, "is how are we to get off?" "that's the point," agreed mr. henderson. "here we are, high and dry, and we might as well be a broken flying machine as a submarine for all the power we have." "will we have to stay here forever?" asked nellie, who had come up on deck. "i hope not," answered the professor, smiling for the first time since the accident. "we will find a way to get down, never fear, little girl." "i suppose we might dig some sort of a canal down to the water," remarked jack. "if we could we might float the ship." "i'm afraid you'd find it slow digging through this volcanic rock," answered andy. "it's like flint." "well, there's no use worrying over it," went on the professor in as calm a tone as he could muster. "it's time for breakfast, and we have to eat whether we're on the top of an island that shoots out of the water when you least expect it, or sailing along as we ought to." accordingly washington prepared the morning meal, and they all found they had appetites for it, in spite of their fright. afterward they all came on deck again and looked about them. they were in the midst of a wild waste of water. not a sign of land could be seen in any direction, and there was no evidence of a sail or steamship as far as the horizon showed. the little island which held the _porpoise_ so close a prisoner was a mere speck in the vast ocean, but it was large enough to put an end, temporarily at least, to the progress of the powerful submarine. the professor and the boys went over the side and climbed down to the rock. then the inventor verified his surmise that the rocky point was of volcanic origin. it was also seen that there was little chance to get the craft back into the ocean. "i guess we're doomed to stick here for some time," remarked mr. henderson, with a grim smile. "the rock has caught us squarely and nothing short of dynamite will free us. to use the explosive might mean the destruction of the ship, and i dare not risk it." gloom settled over the party in spite of the efforts the professor made to be cheerful. washington, after the first few minutes of fright, regained his usual good spirits, but, no matter how he laughed and joked, there was a feeling of terror in every heart. they realized their helplessness, and knew that unless another upheaval of nature occurred there was small likelihood of their release. on the third day of their strange adventure professor henderson resolved on a bold step. "we must use dynamite," he declared. "if we stay here on this desolate rock we are bound to perish sooner or later, for our food cannot last many months, though we have a large supply. we are out of the path of steamers and only by chance would one pass here. with care we may be able to blast the rock so that the ship will not be permanently damaged. what do you all say? i would like your advice, for this concerns all of us." one after the other all said they were willing to abide by whatever the inventor did. accordingly he made his preparations. washington, with a hammer and chisel, was set to cutting a fair sized hole in the big rock, as far away from the ship as possible. he was two days at the job, and, during this time those on the stranded _porpoise_ watched in vain for the sight of a vessel. "i am going to put the dynamite in," announced mr. henderson one morning. "we must all get into the small boat and row some distance away, as there is no telling what the result of the explosion may be." "suppose the submarine is destroyed?" asked mrs. johnson. "then we will have to sail for the nearest land in the small boat," replied the captain. "i will provision it and we will take all the precautions we can." it was with anxious hearts that the little party embarked in the little craft that was carried on the _porpoise_. it was barely large enough to hold them. the professor was the last in, and he lighted a long fuse that led to the dynamite before taking his seat. then with tom and bill at the oars the little craft moved away. "how long before the explosion will take place?" asked jack. "i timed the fuse for ten minutes," answered mr. henderson. "that will enable us to get far enough away so we will not be swamped by a wave." five minutes later mark, who was intently watching the volcanic rock, gave a loud cry. "there she goes!" he shouted. they all looked to behold a wonderful thing. as easily as though it was some conjuring trick the rock began to settle down in the water. lower and lower it went until only the tallest jagged points showed above the waves, whose crested tops the keel of the ship now almost touched. "that isn't the explosion!" exclaimed the professor. "the fuse has not had time to get to the powder yet." "but the rock is disappearing!" yelled andy. as he spoke the big pile of volcanic stone vanished completely and the _porpoise_ floated easily on the surface of the sea. "hurrah!" cried mark. "it am de most kloslostrous occurranceness dat eber transpositioned itself!" exploded washington. "let's row back to the ship now!" cried mark. "not yet!" said the professor quickly. "the dynamite has not gone off yet." "there it goes now," remarked jack. at that instant a big column of water shot upward and a dull rumbling could be heard. a few seconds later the little boat rocked violently from the effects of the waves. then the sea became calm, and the _porpoise_ could be seen dancing up and down on the heaving billows. "now we can go back in safety," spoke mr. henderson, and tom and bill bent to the oars. "what happened?" asked mrs. johnson. "the rock seemed to disappear before the explosion occurred." "that's exactly what it was," explained the inventor. "by some strange freak of nature the volcanic mass dropped back into the ocean a little before i was ready to blow it to pieces. in settling down it lowered the ship. then the explosion occurred beneath the waves. if i had waited a little while i need not have risked the dynamite." "well, there was no guarantee that the rock would go back where it came from," remarked jack. "no, we had to act," agreed the professor. "but now let us go aboard." they rowed back to the _porpoise_, which they found had sustained no damage from the queer experience it had been through. the motors were set in motion and in a little while the craft was again moving through the water out of the dangerous vicinity of the volcanic area. "who has the two watches to-night?" asked mr. henderson after supper had been served. "washington and andy," answered jack, who kept track of the matter. "i guess we'll change it, and have you and mark take them," went on the captain. he gave jack a peculiar look, and made a sign to him not to say anything. wondering what was to come jack went up on deck to watch the sunset. chapter xxi caught in a whirlpool the boy was joined a little later by the captain, who, coming close to him whispered: "i am going to try to discover the ghost to-night. that is why i wanted you boys on hand to help me. this thing must be stopped if it is a joke, and, if it isn't--" "do you think it is some one playing tricks?" asked jack. "i don't know what to think," answered mr. henderson. "we will see what happens to-night." mark came on deck a little while, and the three talked of the strange appearances of the mysterious white object. the boys told of their experiences, and jack related more fully his on the night the ship went up on the big rock upheaval. "i don't believe in ghosts," said mr. henderson, "i'm going to lay this one," and he smiled grimly. night settled down. jack, who had the first tour under the new arrangement, had made himself comfortable in the conning tower, and mr. henderson had hidden himself in the companionway. his idea was to thus guard both openings into the ship and ascertain whether the ghost came from within or without the craft. up to a short time before twelve o'clock nothing out of the ordinary happened. the only sound was the lapping of the waves on the steel sides of the _porpoise_, and now and then a splash as a big fish leaped out of the water. there was only the slightest breeze. jack who, somehow or other, felt much sleepier than usual, caught himself nodding several times. once he awoke with a start and realized that he had been dozing. "come, come," he remarked to himself, "this will not do at all. this is a fine way to watch for a ghost." he remained wide awake for perhaps five minutes. then he was off to the land of nod again. he was just dreaming that he was skating on a pond and was playing snap the whip with a lot of boys, when he awoke with a start. he felt something pressing on his chest and to his horror, as he looked up, he saw a big towering white object standing over him. a second glance showed him it was a man, or the semblance of one, and the thing's foot was on his chest. with a terrified scream jack sprang up, upsetting the ghost, which, the boy thought at the time, seemed rather heavy for an unearthly spirit. "did you catch it?" cried the professor. "no! yes! i don't know!" yelled jack, struggling to his feet in time to see the white object glide down the stairs that led from the conning tower into the forward cabin. "run after it! we must solve the mystery!" cried mr. henderson springing from the companionway up on deck. but at that moment the ship began to whirl about in a circle slowly at first, but with increasing speed until jack and the professor felt sick and dizzy. all about the water seemed to be bubbling and boiling, while, at the same time, there arose on the air a mournful howl. the professor jumped to the rail and looked over the side. what he saw made him recoil with horror. "quick! close the man-hole hatch!" he cried. "shut the door of the conning tower!" "what is it?" jack managed to ask. "we are caught in a whirlpool!" mr. henderson yelled as he leaped down the companionway and pulled the heavy steel cover after him. stricken with a nameless dread, jack closed the water-tight door of the conning tower and made his way to the cabin. he could hardly get down the stairs, so swiftly was the ship whirling about. he found the captain busy in the engine room and, in response to calls, washington and mark came hurrying in. they had been awakened by the commotion and the strange movements of the _porpoise_. "turn on all the lights," ordered the inventor. "we must prepare for the worst." the incandescents were soon glowing and in the glare the frightened adventurers gathered about mr. henderson, wondering what new terror had befallen them. "see!" exclaimed the inventor. "we are going comparatively slow now, but we are on the outer edge. wait until we reach the centre." he pointed to a compass and, as the needle pointed steadily to the north the card seemed to be going around like the hands of a clock that has lost the balance and escapement wheels. the ship made three complete circles a minute. pale and frightened, mrs. johnson came from her cabin, whence the terrified cries of nellie could be heard. "are we sinking?" she asked. "sinking will never harm the _porpoise_," replied mr. henderson. "this is something decidedly worse." "i know! it is a whirlpool!" exclaimed the lady. "i'm dizzy; i'm so dizzy!" wailed nellie. "please stop the ship from going round, mr. henderson." she came from her bed crying, and all her mother could do did not quiet her. meanwhile the submarine continued to whirl about faster and faster in the swirling waters. five times each minute now it made the circuit, and, like the coils of a boa constrictor that is enfolding its victim, the circles continually grew smaller. "we are being sucked down," said jack in a low tone as he glanced at the depth gage, and noted that it showed them to be thirty feet under water. "that is so," remarked mr. henderson quietly. "what will be the result?" asked mrs. johnson. "i do not know," was the answer, and the captain turned aside. he seemed to have lost all courage in the face of the new disaster. "can't we empty the tanks and rise to the surface?" asked andy. "the tanks are not filled," replied mr. henderson. "what is taking us down is the force of the whirlpool and not the weight of water." "then you fear for the worst?" asked andy. "i do," said the captain simply. "don't give up the ship!" exclaimed the old hunter suddenly. "never say die! it's a long lane that has no turns! hip! hip! hurrah!" they all turned to stare at the old man. "never mind," said mr. henderson in a soothing tone, that one would use toward a baby, or a person not right in their head. "never mind. we may be saved." "oh i'm not crazy!" exclaimed andy. he tried to caper about but the motion of the ship made him dizzy and he had to sit down. "i'm all right! i just happened to think of something!" "what is it?" asked the captain eagerly. "send the ship ahead!" exclaimed andy. "speed her as fast as she will go. try her strength against the force of the whirlpool! we may win!" "good!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "i was too much depressed to think of that! the ship has powerful engines. queer you should remember that instead of me. come, washington, start the screw going! we will try to beat the whirlpool!" the submarine was now whirling around so rapidly that it was difficult for any one to stand without leaning against the sides or holding on to something. it was going lower and lower down, as the gage showed. soon a throb that was felt through the length of the craft told that the engine had started. the vibration increased until it seemed that the ship would be torn apart. never had the big screw revolved at greater speed. for a while the struggle between the force of man represented by the engine, and the power of nature, embodied in the whirlpool, seemed equal. neither could gain the mastery. the ship continued to slide around in ever narrowing circles while the big cable of water, forced through the tunnel by the screw, was like a cataract. "which will win?" asked the professor softly to himself. he crawled to the gages and watched them. only by their needles could it be told when the battle had turned in favor of the adventurers. the circular motion, that was now terrible in its speed and power, seemed to culminate in a rush that almost overturned the ship. in the engine room washington was laboring to keep the machine at top speed. he put on the last ounce of power. "hurrah!" yelled the professor suddenly. "i think we shall win!" he pointed to the depth gage. the needle, which had showed a constantly increasing record, until it was now at two hundred feet, had stopped. it showed they were going no lower. then mr. henderson looked at the indicator which showed the progress straight ahead. the needle was beginning to tremble. as he watched he saw it move, slowly at first, until, as the powerful screw won a victory over the terrible whirlpool. the gage marked one, two and then three miles an hour. "we are leaving the swirling waters!" cried mr. henderson. then, all at once, as though it was an arrow shot from a gigantic bow, the _porpoise_ cleft the under-billows and shot ahead, free at last from the grip of the whirlpool. man had triumphed over nature! on rushed the ship like a race horse, for the engine was working as it never had before, and it did not have the pool to contend against. "slow down," said mr. henderson, "and we will go to the surface." two minutes later, under the buoyancy of her empty tanks, the _porpoise_ lay floating on the top of the waves, under the shining stars. chapter xxii under fire "i shouldn't want to go through that experience again," remarked mr. henderson, as he, with all of the ship's company except mrs. johnson and nellie went on deck. "i thought we were lost, sure." "lucky our engine didn't go disproportionatin' herself at de mostess criticless moment," put in washington. "golly, but she suttinly did hum!" "and you deserve credit for making her do the humming," went on the professor with a smile. "well, we didn't catch the ghost," remarked jack, "though i certainly saw him, it or her, whatever the thing is. i felt it too." "it's rather strange," spoke the professor. "every time, or nearly every time the ghost, as i suppose we must call it for the present, makes its appearance, something terrible happens to the ship. i hope it doesn't show up too often." it was three o'clock in the morning, and they had battled with the whirlpool over two hours. they talked of little else, and each one told how he or she felt. "it was just like twisting yourself up tight in the swing, and then letting the rope unwind," said nellie, and they all agreed that she had described the sensation perfectly. they laughed, also, a thing they had felt little like doing a short time previous. the engine had run so hard, and some of the bearings had become so warm, that for the rest of the night the professor decided to let the machinery remain stationary. this would give it time to cool down he said, and they could make up the time lost the next day. tired out with the night's worry and labors they all slept late the next morning, and it was nearly ten o'clock before breakfast was over. the ship was started on her course once more, and jack, who was steering, made the engine hum as the submarine scudded along, submerged about fifty feet. "when you have time i would like to talk to you," said mrs. johnson to captain henderson. "i'm at your service now," replied the inventor. "what are you going to do with nellie and me?" the lady went on. "take you to the south pole with us," was the answer, with a smile. "it's very kind of you, and i don't want to put you to any trouble," went on mrs. johnson. "but i would like to go back north." "i'd like to oblige you," returned the inventor, "but i hate to turn back now. we are well on our voyage, and i may never get another chance to locate the pole. don't you want to accompany us? think of the glorious achievement!" "i'd rather go back north," persisted the lady. "but i wouldn't ask you to turn the ship around. what i was going to suggest was to sail along on the surface for a few days and see if you cannot sight a homeward bound steamer or sailing vessel. then you could put me and nellie aboard her." "of course!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "i never thought of that. though we will be sorry to lose your company, and that of your little girl, i will do anything to oblige you. we will at once go to the surface." he called the necessary order to jack through a speaking tube which led to the conning tower. in a few minutes the ship shot upward, and emerged from the ocean in a little shower of foam and spray. she lay undulating on the surface, and was just beginning to move forward again, under the influence of the screw, when a dull boom echoed off to the left. jack looked from the observation windows in the conning tower and saw, about a mile away a big steamer. from her side a white cloud of smoke floated, and then the water splashed about fifty feet from the blunt nose of the submarine. once more came the boom, the white cloud of smoke and this time the water splashed only twenty-five feet away from the bow of the _porpoise_. a third time came the sound, and the splash was even nearer. "they're firing on us!" yelled jack. at his cry the professor ran on deck. he was just in time to see the fourth shot made, and this time the shell dropped into the water just astern of the _porpoise_ and so close that when it exploded it sent a shower of spray all over the deck. "here! stop that!" yelled mr. henderson, shaking his fist in the direction of the steamer. "you nearly hit us that time. do your practicing in some other direction!" "i don't think they can hear you," said jack. "and besides, i don't believe they are practicing." "then what in the world are they doing?" "shooting at us i guess." "why do they want to shoot at us? we haven't done them any damage." "perhaps they think we are a torpedo boat," suggested jack. "maybe that vessel's nation is at war with some other one and wants to sink us if it can." "i believe you're right!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "but this will never do. they must stop!" once more the big gun on the ship was fired and the shell came dangerously close. at the same time several other reports, less in volume were heard, and the water all about the submarine began to bubble as the missiles from the machine guns cut the waves. "maybe it's an english vessel sent to capture mark and me because of that anarchist trouble at the hotel," jack went on. "nonsense!" exclaimed the captain. "but whatever it is, we must stop it, or they will sink my ship. wave your handkerchief, jack." the boy sprang to the top of the conning tower, in order to permit those on the vessel to see him more plainly, and vigorously shook the white rag. that it was observed was evident when some one on the steamer wig-wagged back a reply. in a few minutes a boat was seen to put off from the ship, and soon a little launch, in command of a lieutenant in uniform, drew up alongside the _porpoise_. "who is captain of this craft?" asked the lieutenant as he came aboard. "i am," replied mr. henderson. "what do you mean by firing on me?" "i am lieutenant muchmore," said the other, saluting. "captain wackford, of the _sylph_, in his britannic majesty's service, presents his compliments, and asks you to pardon the occurrence. you see we took you for a derelict and were trying to sink you." "i thought perhaps war had broken out between some country and the united states since we left port," went on mr. henderson, "and that you were trying to make a capture." "no, it was only that we thought you a waterlogged craft, and a danger to navigation," repeated the lieutenant. "but what sort of a ship have you?" "come below and i'll show you the finest submarine that ever was built," answered the inventor with pardonable pride. "if you don't mind, give your launch orders to go back to the ship, and i'll show something that will make you open your eyes." anxious to see what the strange little craft could do lieutenant muchmore sent his launch back, and went below with captain henderson. he was astonished at what he saw, and unlike most englishmen was willing to say so. mr. henderson then went to the conning tower. he directed the man-hole cover to be clamped on, and then filled the tanks. the ship sank fifty feet below the surface and then shot forward. seated in the cabin the lieutenant was observing with wonder showing on his face at the accomplishment of sailing along under water. suddenly the lights were shut off, and the shutters moved back from the bull's-eye windows. the sea, glowing in the beams of the search light, was alive with fish, large and small, beautiful and hideous. "wonderful!" exclaimed the englishman. the bull's-eyes were closed, the lights switched on, and then, speeding the engine almost to the top notch the captain steered the submarine straight for the war-ship. he had carefully noted her direction before starting his own craft, and he resolved to do a little manoeuvering that would still further astonish the visitor. by careful reading of the different gages mr. henderson was able to come to the surface right in front of the _sylph_, to the no small astonishment of the men on the deck of the vessel. then, just to show what the _porpoise_ could do, the inventor darted around the war-ship in a circle. he sunk below the surface, went under the keel of the _sylph_ and came up on the other side. then he went the whole length of her, under water, starting at the stern and ending at the bow, where he brought the submarine to a rest in a smother of foam. "great! wonderful! surprising!" were some of the adjectives lieutenant muchmore used as he stepped from the conning tower, with captain henderson, onto the deck. at the appearance of the officer and the inventor a group of those on the _sylph_ gave three cheers for the little vessel. "is she for sale?" asked captain wackford. "no, thank you," replied mr. henderson with a laugh. "because if she is i'll give you free passage to england with her, on my ship," went on the commander. "my government would give a fortune for a boat that can do what yours does." "it is not for sale," repeated mr. henderson, "but i have some one on board who would appreciate a free passage to england, or any northern port." "who is it?" asked captain wackford. "a mrs. johnson and her daughter." chapter xxiii caught in an ice floe mr. henderson soon explained the finding of the lady and the little girl, and captain wackford readily agreed to give them passage to new york, as the _sylph_ was to call at that port. so nellie and her mother were put aboard the warship, after bidding farewell to the captain and crew of the submarine. mr. henderson and the boys promised to write to them as soon as they got back from their voyage to the south pole, and, amid a chorus of good-byes the _porpoise_ resumed her journey. for several days the submarine forged to the south, and the weather became noticeably cooler. some of the nights were chilly, and those on watch were glad of the heavy coats they had brought along. one morning, after a week of travel, when no interruptions had occurred by reason of accidents, old andy came up on deck, and sniffing the air, said: "we'll sight ice before night, or i'm a dutchman." "what makes you think so?" asked jack. "i can smell it," replied the hunter, whereat jack, and mark who had joined him, laughed. "that is no joke," put in professor henderson, who, coming up the companionway heard what was said. "old sea captains will tell you they can smell an iceberg long before they can see it." "i don't claim to be a sea captain," said andy, "but i once was on a whaling voyage and i learned to sniff ice in the air. i saved the ship from collision with a berg once." "let me see," began the inventor as the adventurers sat about the supper table after the meal was finished, "who have the watches on deck to-night?" "washington first and bill second," replied jack looking at the chart. "keep a sharp watch for the icebergs," advised the captain. "if you feel a sudden chill in the air, and see something white, stop the engine at once and call for me." when the _porpoise_ had been put in shape for the night, and the company, tired out from their labors over a general "house cleaning" which captain henderson had insisted on, went to bed, washington took his place in the conning tower. it was quite cold, but as the temperature for several days past had been steadily falling, nothing was thought of it. "i guess i'll git out my fur-lined sealskin coat," said the colored man to himself as he felt the chill night air, that seemed to increase in frigidity along about eleven o'clock. he went to the cabin to get his overcoat, and, returning on deck prepared to spend the rest of his hour of watch in ease and comfort. he stretched out on the bench in the conning tower, noted that the machinery was working right and that the proper course was being steered, and then he let his thoughts drift to the many adventures he and his employer had gone through of late, and also while on the trip "through the air to the north pole." washington gave one frightened, startled look, in a few minutes, so comfortable had he fixed himself, but happening to look forward through the glass-covered porthole of the tower, he saw something that made the cold chills run down his back. there, right in front of the _porpoise_, and not a cable-length away was a tall, mysterious, white thing which was shimmering in the pale light of the moon that had lately risen. washington gave one frightened, startled look, and then, with a tongue that could hardly move, he yelled out: "de ghost! de ghost! he'll git me suah!" then the colored man made a dive for the stairway leading to the cabin, but missed it and brought up with a crash on the steel floor of the conning tower. "what is it?" called professor henderson, springing out of his bunk. "de ghost!" wailed washington from the huddled up heap he was in. "catch him!" yelled the captain. "i dasn't," moaned washington. the next instant the ship quivered from stem to stern. there was a terrible shock, followed by a grinding, crashing sound. then the craft seemed to be pressed down by some great weight. it heeled over to one side, and the water began to pour down the open man-hole. "quick! clamp on the covers!" shouted mr. henderson as he felt the sea dashing into the interior of the boat. jack and mark sprang to obey. it took all their strength, for the water was running in like a mill-race. "what has happened?" asked andy, as he tried to climb up the companionway ladder, that was tilted backward. "i guess we've hit your iceberg!" cried mr. henderson. "i knew i smelled the frozen stuff," replied the old hunter. they got the covers on the manhole only just in time and they all crowded into the cabin, while jack switched on the electric lights. "is the ship damaged?" asked mark. "i think not," replied mr. henderson. "but we are sinking. look at the depth gage." the hand on the clock-face was moving slowly around. from ten it went to twenty feet, then to thirty and kept going until it stood at seventy. "look to the air tanks," ordered mr. henderson to washington, who, by this time had recovered from his fright. "see if they are all right." the colored man came back in a few minutes and reported that the supply of compressed atmosphere was safe and that there was plenty of it. "that's good," remarked mr. henderson. "whatever else happens we can breathe for a while." "but what has happened?" asked andy. "i think the top part of an iceberg toppled down on us," was the reply. "you know about nine-tenths of a berg is under water. sometimes there is a warm current of the ocean underneath the ice, and it melts. then it becomes top-heavy and tilts over. one of that sort must have caught us, and has shoved us down into the sea." "but why don't we rise again when the ice floe slips off us?" asked mark. "because, in all probability the ice will not slip off us," answered the professor grimly. "it may be so large that it has caught us like a bug under a barn door." "then we are fast in the ice under water," spoke andy after a pause. "it looks like it," came from the inventor. "however we will not give up yet. we may be able to make our way out. start the engine at full speed, washington." the machinery which the professor had shut down at the first cry of alarm was set going. soon the throb and hum told that the big screw was revolving. meanwhile the _porpoise_ had regained an even keel, and had stopped sinking, remaining at the depth of seventy feet below the surface. "we will first try to go straight ahead," said the captain. he turned on more power and they all waited in anxiety. the test would tell whether they could escape in that direction or not. but, though the powerful screw churned the water to foam in the tunnel, the _porpoise_ never budged. it was as if she was held in a vice. "it's of no use," remarked mr. henderson with a shake of his head as he watched the speed gage and noted that it remained stationary. "we must now try the other way." once more the big screw was set going, this time in the opposite direction, so as to pull the ship out of the ice if it was possible. but this, too, was of no avail. "it looks as if the ice had us," said andy, trying to speak in a cheerful tone. "but there's one way more to try." "what is that?" asked mr. henderson. "if we were in the air ship we could go up," replied the old hunter. "but, as it is, we had better go down. why don't you fill all the water tanks, and try to sink beneath the iceberg? it can't go down so very far into the water, and i reckon we could slip under it." "the very thing!" exclaimed the professor, whose mind was too sorely troubled over the happening to enable him to think of plans of escape. "that's the best thing to do." under the inventor's direction washington filled the tanks and then, ere the pumps had ceased working, the screw was started and the deflecting rudder inclined to cause the ship to dive. one, two, three minutes passed, and still the _porpoise_ did not move toward the bottom of the sea. she remained submerged and stationary. anxious eyes gazed at the dials. the indicating hands trembled under the throbbing of the engines, but did not move. "it will not work!" exclaimed mr. henderson in sorrowful tones. "what does it mean?" asked bill, who had come up to where the others stood. "it means that we are prisoners in the ice; caught between the upper and lower parts of a gigantic berg, and held here under the water." "can't we ever get out?" asked jack, a tremor coming into his voice. "can't we escape when the ice melts?" "the ice of the southern polar sea seldom melts in this latitude," replied the professor. an ominous silence followed his words. chapter xxiv the ship graveyard truly the adventurers were in a position that might well cause the stoutest heart to quail. with hundreds of tons of ice above, below, and on every side of them, their chances of escaping alive from this frozen tomb were very small. "can't we make an attempt to get out of this prison?" asked jack. "indeed we will," said the professor. "we will try all the means at our command. if they all fail--" he dared not finish the sentence, but they all knew what he meant. it was now about one o'clock in the morning. the ship had become stationary after the uneasy motion caused by the oscillation of the big berg. "we may as well turn in and get a little sleep," remarked mr. henderson. "we can all work better if we get some rest." it is doubtful whether any of them slept, for the horror of their position was too fresh in their minds. still, lying down in the bunks rested them. it was six o'clock when washington awoke. in spite of the dangers of the icy grave, he had managed to get a little sleep. he prepared breakfast and called the others. "make a good meal," advised mr. henderson. "we have plenty of work ahead of us." "are you going to free the ship?" asked mark. "i am going to try," was the answer. a little later the inventor was busy in one of the small store rooms aft when jack came up. the professor was carefully taking out a box labelled: dynamite! dangerous! "what are you going to do?" asked the boy. "i am going to try the same experiment we attempted on the volcanic island," was the reply. "only, this time, i am afraid we shall have to complete it to the end. there is little likelihood of the ice falling apart." "then you are going to blow it up?" went on jack. "that's what i hope to do," the inventor went on. "i see no other way, and, though there is a risk, it is not so great a one as to wait to be crushed in the ice as it freezes more solidly." under the directions of mr. henderson they got out the diving suits. the professor, the two boys and andy put them on. the dynamite, in specially prepared water-proof packages, with long fuses was laid in readiness close to the door of the diving chamber. into the cell, the four who were to make the perilous journey under the ice, took their places. the water was slowly admitted, and then, with the electric lights in their helmets throwing out powerful gleams, they started forward as the outer door swung open. it was well they had all taken the precautions to don thick undergarments and clothing, for, even through the heavy rubber diving suits, the terrible cold of the southern polar sea struck a chill to their very bones. as the professor had said, the ship was caught between the upper and lower parts of the iceberg. on either side, ahead and to the rear there was open water. beneath their feet there was a floor of ice. it was as if they and the ship had been placed between two great sheets of the frozen matter. their progress was slow, for the water hampered their movements and each one had some of the dynamite to carry. the footing, too, was insecure, for the icy bed of the ocean was slippery. as they were huddled together, the professor in the lead, and their lamps making a faint illumination in the darkness, they suddenly became aware of a great shadow over them. they looked up, and their hearts nearly ceased beating as they saw a gigantic sperm whale right over them, and between the ice. the terrible animal had observed them also, and, food being scarce in those frigid regions, had evidently made up its mind to dine on some choice morsels. the whale was nearly as large again as the submarine, and to the frightened voyagers seemed more immense than a house. with slow motions of the flukes the animal placed itself right over the boys and men, ready to rush at and take them into its terrible maw. old andy, who alone seemed to retain his presence of mind, stepped to the front. the professor and the boys wondered what he was going to do. then andy held up one of the electric guns. always thinking of his chosen calling, the old hunter had picked up the weapon as he was leaving the _porpoise_. he waited until the whale was within a short distance, so close in fact that the small eyes, out of all seeming proportion to the rest of the big body, could be seen. then andy fired one of the explosive bullets straight into the open mouth that was fringed with rows of the springy bone that is a part of a whale's eating apparatus. the shot took effect, and made a vital wound. in its death struggles the beast lashed the ocean to foam, and, but for the fact that andy as soon as he fired the shot crouched down, pulling the others toward the floor of ice, they might all have been killed. the whale turned and made a rush in the opposite direction to that of the divers. this was a welcome sign to the professor, for he knew the animal was seeking open water and this told him it must be somewhere in the vicinity. their hearts still beating loudly from the closeness of death, the adventurers continued their way. on every side were fish, big and little, and, though some of the larger ones thrust themselves to the men and boys, as if wondering what strange creatures they were, none of them offered to attack. led by the professor they made a complete circuit of the ship that was held fast in the ice. as the inventor had surmised, the _porpoise_ was nipped only above and below. if she could be freed at either of those points she could rise to the surface, or sink down under the ice. after making a careful examination of the position of the craft, mr. henderson motioned to have the dynamite placed on the ice, in front of, and about two hundred feet away from the nose of the ship. he connected the cartridges with the fuse and wires that were to explode them, and then, taking the free end, he started back toward the ship. washington was on the watch for them, and operated the diving chamber. soon the four were back in the _porpoise_. "now to see if our plan will work," said mr. henderson. "i am relying on the well known downward force of dynamite to blow a hole in the bottom part of the ice, so that we can drop below." "why not make a hole above so we can rise and escape?" asked bill. "because," replied the professor, "we are now in the region of perpetual ice. the ocean above us is one fast floe, or a number of smaller ones, so that, in any event our progress would be impossible. but we can sail far enough down under water to escape all the ice. that is the purpose of the _porpoise_. that is why i built her. we will now begin on the last part of our voyage; that is if we can get free of the fearful grip of this sea of ice." there was little they could do to protect themselves. they would either escape or be blown to pieces in case the explosive exerted too great a force. they all put on life preservers to guard against the contingency of the _porpoise_ being ripped apart and themselves cast into the water, yet they realized that without their ship, they could live but a little while in the ice-filled water near the south pole. the professor saw that everything was in readiness. he hesitated a moment and looked at the electric button in his hand, for this time the dynamite was to be detonated by a battery. how much might depend on one push of the finger! there was a slight movement to the muscles of the professor's hand. then it seemed as if a thunderbolt had fallen into the midst of the ocean about them. there was a dull rumble, but the confined space and the thick walls of the ship shut most of it out. it was followed by a sickening dizzy motion to the submarine. she seemed about to roll over and those in her grabbed frantically at the sides. the next instant the craft plunged down, down, down, into the water which was filled with broken cakes of ice, that rattled against the steel sides, like peas in a pan. down and down the _porpoise_ went, for her tanks were full. more and more rapidly she continued to sink, until it seemed she would fetch up in the deepest cavern of the ocean. "we's gwine t' mars davy jones's locker, suah!" washington exclaimed as he looked at the depth gages. [illustration: they were in the midst of a graveyard of wrecked ships.--_page 200._] "has the experiment succeeded?" asked andy of mr. henderson. "i think so," was the answer. "at any rate we are free from the ice, temporarily at least. we are sinking down through the hole the dynamite made, just as i hoped we would." "where will we end up?" asked jack. "no one knows," replied the captain. "but i would say--" at that instant the ship stopped sinking and brought up with a bump. "i should say we were at the end of this part of our journey," finished the inventor. he turned off the cabin lights and lighted the search lamps that threw a gleam so the water could be looked at from the bull's-eyes windows. the sight that met their gaze was an astonishing one. they were in the midst of a graveyard of wrecked ships, and, on every side, scattered over the ocean bed, were the broken hulks that had once been stately vessels. chapter xxv caught by sea suckers "what sort of a place is this?" asked andy, as he gazed at the last resting spot of the big ships. "they have probably drifted here with the ocean currents, become caught in the ice and have remained here hundreds of years," said mr. henderson. "some of the ships are very old, and, by their build must have sailed the waters centuries ago." "maybe some of them are treasure ships," suggested jack. "they might be," admitted the professor. "then we'll go aboard and get the gold," spoke mark. "i'm afraid you'll be disappointed," went on the inventor. "in the first place most treasure ships are looted before they sink. and it would be very dangerous for any of us to venture to explore those hulks." "why?" asked jack. "because they are rotten, and liable to fall to pieces any minute. if you happened to be in one at the time you would be caught in the wreckage and eventually drowned even though you had on a diving suit. then, again, the ice here is constantly shifting about, and a sudden motion of the under-water floe might carry you hundreds of miles away. so we will not try to hunt for any fortunes on the sunken ships." with this the boys were forced to be content. they stood at the small windows looking at the skeletons of ships that lay on every side of the _porpoise_. some of the craft were big steamers, and others were small sailing vessels. a few had jagged holes in the hulls, showing how they had been damaged. a few stood upright, with sails all set, as if disaster had suddenly come upon them. "well, what is the next move?" asked andy after a pause. "are we going to stay here?" "we are going to find the south pole," spoke mr. henderson suddenly. "that is what i set out to do, and i am going to accomplish it if possible. we have had many accidents and a harder time in some respects than when we made our trip to the north in the air ship. but i am sure we shall succeed. start the ship to the south, washington." "but we may run into an iceberg," objected the old hunter, who was inclined to be cautious. "i think not," answered mr. henderson. "i believe we are on a sort of level plane between two vast upper and lower fields of ice. we can go freely in any direction excepting up or down." "how is that?" asked mark. "i don't quite understand." "because there is, i believe, a big sheet of ice above us, one, say several hundred feet thick. the same thing is below us, between us and the real bed of the ocean." "but suppose we have to go up to renew our air supply?" asked jack. "we can't go," replied the inventor. "then we will die." "not necessarily. we will steam along until we come to a place where there is no ice above us." "but i thought you said there was nothing but ice above us now." "so there is, but i intend to head due south and there, i believe, we will find an open polar sea. if we do my theory will be proved and we will have made a great discovery." "forward then!" exclaimed jack. "let us strike for the open sea." the _porpoise_ began to move ahead. she steamed slowly, for mr. henderson realized that he was in dangerous waters. he took his position in the conning tower, and had jack with him to assist in looking for any obstructions that they might unexpectedly meet. the big searchlight gave a fine illumination, for the ice above and below reflected back the beams, and what would otherwise have been a sea of darkness was made one of daylight. the water swarmed with fish, but they were like none that the adventurers had ever seen or dreamed of before. there were monsters with hideous heads, and eyes so large that they occupied nearly half of the ugly bodies. then there were serpent-like forms, fish with long slender bodies and whip-fashioned tails, with jaws that extended before them for ten feet or more. others there were, great lumbering monsters that crawled along on the ice, somewhat as seals do. after several hours' travel the submarine ran into a school of fish that had shapes like those of polar bears, while their heads were like those of sharks. the creatures swarmed up to the side of the vessel, and some scratched with their claw-like fins on the glass windows of the conning tower and the side bull's-eyes. a meal was prepared by washington, and all the adventurers brought good appetites to the table. on and on rushed the ship, every hour coming nearer and nearer to the pole. professor henderson had turned the steering of the craft over to mark, who, with jack as an assistant was sending her along at a good speed, when suddenly the submarine seemed to slacken in her progress. "what's the matter now i wonder?" asked mark. "maybe the engine bearings got hot, and washington had to slow up to cool them," suggested jack. he looked through one of the side windows in the conning tower, a moment later, and uttered a cry of fear. "what is it?" asked mark. jack pointed with a hand that trembled from fright. staring at them through the thick glass of the bull's-eye the boys beheld the most hideous sea monster they had yet encountered. it seemed to be a vast circular mass of flesh, twenty feet in diameter, and, in the middle were two openings each three feet across. they were like big holes, and, at the farther end of them could be seen two unblinking eyes. in the centre was a horrible mouth, armed with a triple row of teeth. down below there was a short body, at the end of which was a smaller disk, armed with a sharp horny point. "what is it?" asked jack in a whisper. "i don't know," replied mark. a moment later mr. henderson came up the companionway into the tower. he caught one glimpse of the monster. "it is the great sucker of the polar seas!" he exclaimed. "quick! speed up the engine! if that one, and the mates of it, fasten on to us we will have trouble!" he pressed the signal that connected with the engine room, and told washington to start the engine at its greatest power. the next instant the ship throbbed and trembled under the vibrations of the big screw. "we may escape!" cried the professor. as he spoke the ship seemed to come to a sudden stop. the engine could still be felt moving, and the big screw still churned the water to foam in the tunnel, but the craft was stationary. "we are caught!" exclaimed the professor. "so we are!" the windows in the conning tower were darkened. the big sucker had thrown itself forward and spread itself over the glass, clasping its horrible form half way about the submarine. "let's look at the other windows! there may be only one of the creatures!" mr. henderson exclaimed, as he hurried down the companion way and into the main cabin. he threw back the slides covering the glass. the sight that met his eyes caused him to recoil in horror. there, pressing their shapes against the steel sides, and over the bull's-eyes of the ship were two more of the gigantic suckers! the ship had now ceased to move, and washington, in the engine room, feeling that something was wrong, had shut off the power. the adventurers were caught in a trap more terrible than that of the ice, the volcanic mountain, or the sargasso sea. it was a trap from which they might never escape. the suckers, thinking the submarine was perhaps a species of fish, like themselves, and one of their enemies, had fastened on it their fatal vice-like grip. to move through the water, with the weight of all that clinging flesh was impossible. "what sort of creatures are they?" asked jack, speaking in a whisper, so great was the terror inspired by the presence of the gigantic sea suckers. "i never saw any of them before," replied the professor, "but i have read about them. they live only in the polar regions and are a species of octupus, only more terrible. their powers of suction are enormous, and once they fasten on a fish or animal they never let go until they have absorbed it completely. they act in the same way that a star fish does on an oyster." "but they can't eat the ship," said jack. "no, i fancy the steel and iron sides will prevent them from making a meal of us." "then where is the danger?" "they will not let go until they discover that they cannot devour us, and it may take days. we can only remain under water a comparatively short time at the most. so you see where the danger is." "but can't we go out and kill them? then they would let go." "it would be most risky to venture out, protected even with a diving suit, and carrying the electric guns," the professor went on. "no, i must think of some other plan to free ourselves from the creatures." "blow 'em up wif dynamite an' send 'em inter disproportionately contrastedable circumferences!" exclaimed washington, who had been listening to the conversation. "this isn't any time to joke," mr. henderson said sternly. "i wasn't joking," replied the colored man. "can't we squirt acid on 'em or chop 'em up, or--or--" "we can do nothing for the time being," said the professor. "come, we will have a consultation on the subject. perhaps some one may be able to think of a plan of rescue." "let us hope so." they all gathered in the cabin. the professor explained the nature of the creatures, as far as he knew them from what he had read or heard. he pointed out, through the glass windows, over which the suckers were still clinging, how they maintained their grip, by exhausting, through their big mouths, the air between their saucer-like surfaces and the ship to which they were clinging. "can't we go out and fight 'em?" asked andy, who was always ready to use a gun. "i doubt if we could get out," replied the professor. "though we can not see them, i believe the creatures cover every part of the ship from stem to stern. we could never open the door of the diving chamber with that terrible sucker covering the iron portal." "maybe if we wait long enough a lot of sharks will come along and eat 'em up," put in jack. "i am afraid sharks will not come to these frozen waters," said the professor. "they like a warm climate." "and you don't think it would be feasible to use dynamite," asked mark. "we can't get out to place it where it would blow up the fish and not us," answered mr. henderson. "if we could it might serve." a silence fell on the group. they were in sore straits and there seemed no hope of rescue. the big disk-like bodies that covered the windows did not move, but remained there, staring with horrible persistency into the interior of the ship. chapter xxvi land under ice suddenly the craft began to move. slowly at first, then, with more speed it forged ahead through the water. "are we free?" asked andy, starting up. "who started the machinery?" demanded the professor. "no one," replied jack. "we are all here. there is no one in the engine room." "but we are moving," said mark. "it's dem sucker-fish!" exclaimed washington. "dey is takin' us off to der dens an' dere we'll all be eat up!" "i'm afraid part of it is true," said mr. henderson. "the creatures are certainly making off with us. how powerful they must be!" "will dey take us to a cave?" faltered washington. "will dey eat us up?" "i don't think they'll eat us up," spoke the inventor. "it would defy even their powerful sucking apparatus to bore through the steel sides of the _porpoise_. what i am afraid of is that they may move us to some hidden depth where we will be caught under the rocks or in the ice, and so lose what little chance there is of getting free." "and the worst of it is we can't do a thing to help ourselves!" exclaimed andy. "this is the worst game i was ever up against!" the adventurers were indeed helpless. they could not get out of their ship to attack the monsters, even had they dared to. their engine, powerful as it was, had proved no match for the creatures, and now they were being carried away, ship and all, to some unknown place. the ship did not go through the water fast. though the suckers seemed to be working in union their bodies were too unwieldly, and the ship so large, that their pace was slow. nevertheless they kept steadily on. several times, in their desperation, the adventurers tried the force of the big screw against that of the suckers. it was of no avail. neither was the device of emptying the tanks, and trying to force the craft up as far as the roof of ice would permit it to go. "it's of no use," announced mr. henderson with something that sounded like a groan. "we must prepare for the worst." "how long can we live here without going to the surface after a fresh supply of air?" asked bill. "about three days," was the answer. "i took the precaution to put a double supply into the tanks, in readiness for an emergency, but i never thought of such a terrible situation as this." the submarine seemed to be moving more rapidly now. it was useless to try to see through either the windows in the side or in the conning tower, for all the glass was covered by the horrible bodies. "what will they do with us when they get us where they want us?" asked andy. "what can they do except hold us prisoners until--until--" the professor broke off the sentence he dared not finish. for an hour or more the craft was moved through the water at moderate speed. then it came to a stop. those on board were alert for what might happen next. "i guess dey done got us in der cave," said washington with chattering teeth. "now dey'll begin to devour us wid dem terrible big mouths! golly, i wish i was home!" "stop that nonsense!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "be a man! there is no danger yet. the sides of the _porpoise_ will defy worse enemies than those attacking us!" at that instant the ship began to move again. it was hauled slowly through the water. "they are pulling us backward!" said andy, as he watched the needle of the compass. once more the submarine was stopped. then it moved forward at a more rapid pace than at any time since the suckers had seized it. an instant later it brought up against some solid object with such a jar that those inside were thrown off their feet. "something has hit us!" cried jack. "more likely we've struck something," said the professor. again the ship forged to the rear, and once again it was sent swiftly ahead. then came the second shock, harder than the first, which sent some of the party headlong. "they are banging us against a rock!" cried mr. henderson. "do you mean those sea suckers?" "yes. they have probably found that the shell of the _porpoise_ is too hard even for their powerful jaws. so they have taken us to some place where the rocks show and are banging us against them in order to break the ship, so they can get at what is inside." once more the ship was drawn backward and again dashed against the stone. the shock was a hard one and toppled over all who were not clinging to something. "they are ramming us bow on against the rocks," cried andy. "it will break us apart if they hit us many more times!" washington hurried forward. he came back with his eyes showing terror. "there's a lot of rocks right ahead ob us!" he exclaimed. "i see 'em through th' little window jest above th' screw. there's land under this here water!" "land under this ice do you mean?" asked the professor. "that's what i mean, an' we's bein' rammed agin th' rocks!" "there it goes again!" cried jack, as the ship shivered from stem to stern against the impact of the blow. "this can not last long," said mr. henderson. "if they strike us many more times some of the places will start, the water will come in, and we will drown!" "but what can we do?" asked jack. "let's go out now and see if we can't kill some of the beasts with the guns," suggested andy. "i cannot permit it," answered the inventor. "our position is bad enough as it is, but to go out would be to lose our lives for a certainty. the suckers would swallow us up in a moment. i must find some other way." there was a period of silence, while all waited anxiously for what was to happen next. it was not long in coming. the next impact of the ship against the rocks was the hardest yet, and it seemed that more of the suckers must have gripped the craft. "she's leakin' a little!" exclaimed washington coming back from an inspection forward. "de water am tricklin' in!" "we must fight them!" exclaimed andy. he ran to get a gun and his diving suit. "don't try to go out!" warned the professor. "you will surely be killed." "i'd rather be killed out there than die shut up in the ship!" cried the old hunter. "i'm going out!" "wait!" exclaimed jack suddenly. "i have a plan that may save us!" "what is it? speak quickly!" said mr. henderson. "we are in desperate straits!" as he spoke there came another crash against the rocks. "we must electrocute the suckers!" cried the boy. "electrocute them? what do you mean?" "take the wires from the electric light circuit, attach one to each end of the ship, and start the dynamo at full speed!" answered jack. "what good will that do?" "the ship is steel," went on the boy. "it will become charged with a powerful current. we can insulate ourselves by putting on rubber boots, but the shock of the electricity will kill the creatures!" "good for you!" exclaimed mr. henderson. "quick boys, everybody lend a hand! washington, detach the wires and run one to the bow and the other to the stern of the ship. then get out the boots." in a few minutes the dynamo was ready to send a death-dealing current through the entire ship. the professor and all the others put on the boots, that were a part of the diving equipment. the dynamo was started at full speed and the purring hum told that electricity of great power was being developed. the professor stood with his hand on a switch, ready to close the circuit as soon as sufficient power had accumulated. once more the suckers backed the ship in order to give it impetus for another impact on the stones. click! the professor snapped the switch shut. there was a burst of bluish-green flame, and the movement of the boat suddenly ceased. "i guess that does for 'em!" shouted andy. "wait a few minutes," advised the professor. "the suckers may not all be dead yet!" he kept the current flowing throughout the length of the ship for several minutes, and then turned it off. "now to see if the plan worked," he said. the windows in the cabin were eagerly scanned. "hurrah!" cried mark. "the suckers have gone!" "i guess the electricity killed them," spoke mr. henderson. "we will venture out now in our diving suits and see what sort of a place we are in." soon the adventurers were arrayed in the heavy suits. under them they wore thick clothing, and in each suit was placed a small flat heater, operated by a storage battery. the heaters were made of coils of fine wires, and the electric current, meeting with much resistance in passing through them, heated the coils, so there was considerable warmth. it was all needed as they found when they felt the water entering the diving chamber, for the fluid was as cold as an ocean full of icebergs could make it. protected however by the heavy suits, warm clothing and the heaters the divers were fairly comfortable. the outer door was opened and they all started back in amazement at the sight which met their eyes. before them lay a forest of real trees, with bushes growing among them, while the ground, instead of being like the usual ocean bed was covered with grass. as washington had said, on getting a small view of the place from the little window, it was real land under water. their first surprise at the strange spectacle over, the adventurers glanced about for a sight of the terrible sea suckers. but they need not have feared. lying in a huddled up mass toward the rear of the _porpoise_ were the dead bodies of the ugly creatures. the electricity had finished them. chapter xxvii attacked by an octupus they walked some distance away from the ship, for the land under the water was easy to travel on. it looked exactly as if some beautiful valley had suddenly been submerged in the middle of summer, when everything was fresh and green. they had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile from the _porpoise_ when professor henderson motioned to them that they had better return. on their way back they passed what looked to be a large cave in the side of a hill. wondering what could be in it, mark and jack paused to peer into the black opening. the next instant two long white things, like slender serpents shot out. with the rapidity of lightning they wrapped themselves, one about each boy, and, before the horrified companions of the lads could do anything the unfortunate youths were whisked out of sight into the cavern. for a few seconds no one knew what to do. to rush in to the rescue of the boys would have been foolhardy, as the terrible octupus, which they knew had grabbed the lads, would have been a match for all of the adventurers, unarmed as they were. it would be necessary to return to the ship and come back with some of the electric guns, which they had neglected to bring with them. in the meanwhile the beast might, and probably would, kill mark and jack. but there was nothing else to do. the professor motioned for andy to remain on the watch at the mouth of the cavern, so as to be on hand in case he could help the boys, while the others were hurrying toward the ship. then, leading the way, the professor signalled for tom and bill to follow him. they could not hurry much for the heavy suits and the resistance of the water impeded their progress. but they made all the speed they could, urged on by a terrible fear. meanwhile old andy stood in front of the cave, hoping against hope that there might be some way of aiding the boys. if it had happened above water he would not have hesitated to rush in and give battle to the beast, even though he was unarmed. if he had his knife now he would venture in, at the risk of his life. "oh, why didn't i bring my gun along!" thought andy regretfully. his hand dropped to his side and his fingers came in contact with a big knife in the belt of the diving suit. here was a weapon he had forgotten all about. he drew forth the blade. it seemed a small one with which to attack so large and terrible a creature as the octupus. yet to remain there, knowing the boys were being killed was more than old andy could stand. grasping the handle with a firm grip he started toward the cave. his foot caught in something, and he nearly fell. looking down to see what had tripped him he saw a long thin pole, straight as a lance. it had once been a tree limb, but all the branches were stripped off. "now if i only had an iron point for that," andy thought. then he recollected the knife in his hand. "the very thing," he remarked aloud, the words sounding startlingly loud in the confinement of the copper helmet. "if i only had something to fasten the knife on the pole i could make a spear to attack the octupus." then he saw long streamers of sea weed growing up from the ocean bed. they were very tough, a kind of wirey grass that was as strong as rope. andy cut several streamers and, with a hunter's skill bound the knife to the end of the staff. now he had a weapon formidable enough to venture in and give battle to the monster. he hesitated no longer, fearing that even the short delay might have been too much and that the boys were dead. he entered the cave. at first he could perceive nothing for it was quite dark. then, as his eyes became used to the gloom, which the lamp in his helmet faintly illuminated, he saw, far back in the rear, the horrible octupus. two dark objects, around which were wrapped several folds of the terrible arms, andy guessed to be mark and jack, and when he was a faint glow coming from them he was sure they were the boys, the gleams coming from the lamps in their helmets. warily the hunter approached the creature. if he had hoped to take it unawares he was disappointed, for, when he had come within ten feet, holding his improvised lance outstretched ready for a deadly thrust, the creature shot out two long arms toward andy. now the battle began. the snake-like feelers, armed with big saucer shaped suckers, lashed about in the water, seeking to clasp the hunter in their deadly embrace. but andy, who had fought many kinds of wild animals on land, did not lose his presence of mind in confronting this beast of the sea. nimbly, in spite of the handicap of the heavy diving suit, andy dodged the arms. watching his chance he thrust at one, and the sharp knife severed the end. but another arm shot out, while the wounded one was drawn in, and the battle was as much against the old hunter as before. once more he thrust his lance, and this time he severed one of the arms close to the ugly body. the creature, in its rage and pain, redoubled its efforts to clasp andy. the hunter decided to try to get to closer quarters where he could use his spear on the body of the beast. he stooped down and wiggled along on the bottom of the cave. but the creature saw him, and darted an arm out to pull the old man in. andy squirmed to one side, and then, being as close as he desired, he rose to his feet and, drawing back the pole thrust it with all his force straight at the centre of the whitish-yellow body that was like a horrible lump of soft fat directly in front of him. at the first touch of the knife the creature squirted out an inky substance that made the water about it as black as night. andy could not see, but he could feel that the lance was still in the body. he pulled it back a little and thrust again and again, turning it around to enlarge the wound he had made. then, what he had feared all along happened. two of the creatures arms found him, and he felt the terrible pressure as they wound themselves about him, the sucker-plates clinging fast. yet in it all he did not lose his presence of mind, nor did he let go of the pole. tighter and tighter the arms clasped him. he struggled with all his strength but he was in a grip more powerful than that of a boa constrictor. suddenly the pole he was holding snapped off. he let go the useless end and pulled the shorter part, to which the knife was bound, toward him. andy felt his senses beginning to leave him, but he determined to make one more effort. one hand was free, that holding the knife. with his last remaining strength he cut and slashed at the arms of the creature that were clasped about him. again and again he stuck the blade into the gristle like substance. could he win? could he save his own life, to say nothing of that of the two boys? the creature was lashing about now so that the water was a mass of black foam. the ink-color was beginning to fade away. andy could dimly observe the horrible front of the octupus, and see the wound his lance had made. then all seemed to grow dark again. he dimly remembered trying to thrust the knife into one of the saucer-shaped eyes, and then of a sudden his senses left him. when andy came to his senses he found himself lying on the ocean bed just outside the cave. about him stood the professor, washington, tom and bill. his head buzzed and he felt weak, but he knew he was uninjured, and that his diving suit had not been punctured in the fight with the octupus, for he could feel the fresh air entering from the tank at the back of his helmet. were the boys killed, andy wondered. had his fight to save them been in vain? he managed to stand up, and then, to his relief he saw mark and jack standing behind tom and bill. the boys seemed weak but otherwise uninjured. the professor motioned to know if andy could walk and the old hunter soon demonstrated that he could by stepping forward. then the party proceeded slowly to the ship. little time was lost by each one in divesting himself of his diving suit as soon as they had left the water chamber. the first thing andy asked when his helmet was off, was: "did i kill the beast?" "indeed you did," replied the professor. "and just in time, too. you were about done for when we came back with the guns, but they were not needed. my! but you must have had a terrible fight!" "i did, while it lasted," said the hunter. "but were the boys hurt?" "they can speak for themselves," replied mr. henderson. "i guess not, though." "having the wind almost squeezed out of us was the worst that happened," said mark. "the octupus must have recently dined when it grabbed us, for it didn't offer to eat us. and it didn't grip us as tightly as it might have or i reckon we wouldn't have come out alive. i thought sure we were going to be killed, however." "so did i," put in jack. "i don't want any more such fights this trip," said andy with a weak smile. chapter xxviii out of the ice worn out with their encounter with the octupus, andy and the boys were glad to take to their bunks. the others, too, who were weary from traveling under water, felt the need of rest, and so it was decided to let the ship remain stationary down on the bottom of the ocean for several hours before going on further. "when we get rested up we'll have a good meal, and then try to gain the surface of the ocean," said the professor. there was quiet on board the _porpoise_ for a long time. washington was the first to awake and he at once set about getting a meal. when it was ready he called the professor, and, one after another all the adventurers rose from their bunks and refreshed themselves with hot coffee, bacon, eggs and preserves, all prepared from condensed foods, of which a large supply had been brought. "now to see if we can make our way upward through the ice," announced mr. henderson. "we ought to be far enough south to strike the open polar sea which i believe exists." the engine was started after the small leaks in the bow, caused by the ramming of the boat on the rocks, had been stopped up, and the professor, entering the conning tower, turned her due south. the screw vibrated in the tunnel, the water rushed out in a big stream, the engines and dynamos hummed, and the hearts of all were lightened as they knew they were nearing the goal of their journey. several hours passed and the professor, who was keeping watch of the gages noted they had covered more than one hundred miles. as the supply of compressed air was getting low mr. henderson, not wanting to run any chances, decided to make an attempt to reach the surface and refill the tanks. accordingly the water tanks were emptied of their ballast, the rudder was set to force the ship to the surface, and soon the depth gage showed a constantly decreasing amount of water over the heads of the adventurers. "now, if we don't hit the ice above us we'll be all right," spoke mr. henderson. "we are within fifteen feet of the surface." hardly had he ceased speaking when the _porpoise_ brought up against something with a bump that jarred everyone. then the submarine went scraping along, hitting the conning tower every now and then. "not clear of the ice yet," said mr. henderson. "we must go down a little and try again." the tanks were filled with enough water to keep the boat about fifty feet under the surface, and at that depth she was sent ahead at full speed. the professor's face wore an anxious look, and when washington asked him if it was not time to replenish the air supply of the boat the inventor told the colored man to be very sparing of the contents of the compressing tanks. "i'm afraid we are not as near the open sea as i at first thought," mr. henderson finished. on and on rushed the _porpoise_. the engines were kept at full speed, and after two hours of this fast run another attempt was made to reach the surface. once more the thick ice intervened. "guess we'll have to blast our way out," observed andy. "we seem to have lots of trouble on this trip." "why not try to ram your way through," suggested jack. "how do you mean?" asked mr. henderson. "i mean to sink the boat say two hundred feet. then start her up obliquely and perhaps the sharp prow will cut a hole through the ice." "hardly through ice fifteen feet or more thick," said the captain despondently. "but it may be thinner now," persisted jack. "at any rate it will do no harm to try," the inventor admitted. "we can not last much longer down here." again the tanks were filled, and by the aid of the deflecting rudder the _porpoise_ went down into the depths. then the ballast tanks were quickly emptied, and the rudder turned so as to force the craft upward on a slant. the engine was set going at top speed. "hold fast everybody!" called the professor. "it is kill or cure this trip!" like an arrow from a bow the _porpoise_ shot upward. on and on it sped, gathering momentum with every foot she traveled. suddenly there came a terrible crash, a grinding sound and a rending and tearing. the ship trembled from end to end. every one was knocked from his feet. there were bumpings and scrapings all along the sides of the submarine. then, with one final spurt of speed, the little ship tore her way through the ice and emerged, with a splash and shower of foam into the open sea! quickly the man hole was opened and, half dead from lack of fresh air, the adventurers crawled out on deck. it was night and the stars glittered in the sky above. they were just beyond the edge of the ice field, and all about them was a wide open sea. "i was right after all," said the professor, "but i miscalculated the distance. had we gone on a few feet farther it would not have been necessary to break through the ice." "i guess it's a lucky thing we didn't try it before either," remarked andy. "we never could have bored through fifteen feet of the frozen stuff. where we plowed up it is less than two feet," and he pointed to where the immense floe came to an end. it was decided to go no farther that night, however, as the professor wanted to take some observations by daylight and ascertain his position. so filling their lungs with the air, cold and piercing though it was, the adventurers descended to their cabin, and lots were drawn to see who would stand the two night watches. it fell to mr. henderson to take the first, and washington the second. the captain accordingly took up his position in the conning tower and prepared to pass several hours. he was busy thinking over the exciting times he and his companions had passed through, and planning new trips to see more wonders of the world, when his attention was attracted by slight noise near the man hole leading to the amidship companionway. the professor looked up, and was startled to see a tall white object, with outstretched arms advancing toward him with slow and stealthy tread. "the ghost again!" exclaimed the inventor softly. "i must catch it now, and see what foolishness it is," for the professor did not believe in spirits. he got down on his hands and knees the better to escape observation, should the white thing prove to be a bodily substance, and started to crawl toward it. he came within ten feet of the thing, and could make out that it was a man, or at least the semblance of one, all clothed in white. nearer and nearer the inventor crawled to the thing. it turned to face him now and mr. henderson could not help feeling startled as he saw the object had no head. the neck ended in a white stump. in spite of a little feeling of qualmishness, which even his boasted disbelief in ghosts did not save him from, mr. henderson was about to spring upon the thing and solve the mystery. at that instant, however, washington, who was coming on deck to take up his watch, appeared at the head of the companionway, and caught sight of the terrible object. the yells of the colored man as he dove downward and back into the cabin, aroused the ship. determined to solve the mystery, in spite of everything, the professor made a leap forward. he slipped, and tumbled down the iron stairway. at the same time, the ghost, with a blood curdling yell, leaped over the professor's back, and disappeared down the stairs of the conning tower. in an instant the crew were rushing from their bunk rooms, seeking a meaning for the disturbance. "it was the ghost again," explained the professor as he picked himself up, not much the worse for his tumble. "i tried to catch it, but i didn't. come, washington, it is your turn to stand watch." "not to-night," said washington firmly. it was no use to urge him, so jack good-naturedly stood washington's trick. nothing further however occurred that night. in the morning the professor made several observations and found that he was within one hundred and fifty miles of the south pole. "we'll make it to-morrow, if we have luck," he said. chapter xxix the boiling water the hours passed and the strange voyage continued. the _porpoise_ traveled along at good speed, and the professor devoted most of his time to looking after the different scientific instruments and gages, for they were nearing the south pole. the deflecting compass, which when it came directly over the place corresponding to the pole, would point straight up and down, was assuming more and more of a perpendicular position. "we are getting there!" exclaimed the professor with delight. "a few hours more and we will have won the goal!" there was considerable excitement on board when the professor's announcement was made. though few of the adventurers cared as much for the scientific achievement as did mr. henderson, they were all glad he was about to succeed. to most of them the locating of the south pole was no different from visiting some new country, excepting that there were more adventures than on most voyages. at dusk the _porpoise_ went to the surface and during the night traveled along atop of the billows. in the morning she dived below again. the engine was started at high speed and the deflecting needle dipped still more. "we's gittin' dar!" exclaimed washington as he oiled the various bearings of the machinery. breakfast was served and hurriedly eaten, for the excitement was telling on every one. after the meal had been cleared away they all sat in the darkened cabin looking out at the water as it slipped past the glass windows. big and little fish swam up and peered into the bull's-eyes and then darted away. "that's sort of queer," remarked jack a little later. "what is?" asked mark, who was sitting near his chum. "all the fish seem to have suddenly disappeared," replied jack. "there were hundreds a little while ago, and now i haven't seen one looking in the windows for some time." "perhaps there's a big fish on their trail," observed mark. "that's what makes 'em take to the deep sea weed." "maybe so," replied jack. a little later professor henderson entered the room. he went over, looked at the thermometer, and then called to washington: "have you got the heat turned on?" "no, sah! i ain't done truned on no superheated vapor into de radiators," replied the colored man. "i were jest thinkin' dat we'd hit de south pole by de feel of it." "it is getting strangely warm," admitted mr. henderson. "ain't that what you expected at the south pole?" asked andy. "i thought it was hot at the south pole and cold at the north." "that's what lots of people imagine," said the professor, "but except for the open sea, which i have proved does exist, i guess it's just as cold at the south as at the north, especially in the winter. we have struck the summer season." "and a mighty warm one at that," observed jack. "whew! i've got to take off my coat." indeed it was getting uncomfortably warm in the ship, and the adventurers who had dressed in thick clothing to guard against the rigors of the icy climate, soon had to lay aside many of their garments. "no wonder!" exclaimed mr. henderson, as he looked at a thermometer. "it is eighty degrees in here!" "worse than workin' in a hay field," observed bill, as he wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead. "let us see what sort of water we are traveling through," suggested the professor, as he again turned off the lights in the cabin so that a view could be had from the bull's-eyes. wondering what would meet their gaze the adventurers peered out of the small circular windows. at first they could hardly believe their eyes. there, right before them, the sea was bubbling as if it was an immense tea kettle. steam formed on the glass, and big clouds of vapor could be seen. the atmosphere of the cabin became almost unbearable. "we are in the midst of a boiling hot ocean!" cried the professor. "are we sailing through hot water?" asked andy. "i should say so, from the feel of it," answered mr. henderson. "put your hand on the side of the cabin." andy laid his fingers against the steel plates. he drew back. "i burned myself!" he exclaimed. "what are we to do?" cried jack. "get out of this by all means!" exclaimed the inventor. "if we stay in this hot ocean we will be boiled alive like fishes in a pot. send the ship up, washington!" indeed it was high time. the thermometer marked one hundred and ten degrees, and was rising. the interior of the _porpoise_ was like that of a steam laundry three times heated. stripped to their undergarments the adventurers were obliged to lie down on the floor of the cabin where it was a little cooler. it was all washington could do, used as colored people are to the heat, to go into the engine room, and start the machinery that emptied the tanks, so as to allow the ship to mount to the surface. the _porpoise_ began to rise slowly, and to the suffering men and boys it seemed that she never went up so reluctantly. the heat was becoming unbearable. they could hear the water bubbling even through the steel sides of the submarine. chapter xxx conclusion could they live to reach the surface? was the thought in the mind of every one. the heat was terrific. they were breathing in gasps. professor henderson went to the water tank, thinking to throw some of the fluid over himself and his companions, but he found it so warm that it almost burned his hand. "keep up your courage!" exclaimed the inventor. "we will soon be at the top!" almost as he spoke the _porpoise_ bounded from the waves, and fell back in a splash of foam on the surface of the billows. they were at the surface. the professor rushed for the manhole and soon opened it. he crawled out on the deck, followed by the others. they breathed in deep breaths of the fresh air. the submarine continued to sail on. every minute the sea seemed to boil more violently, until at last the waves were covered with a cloud of steam, through which it was difficult to observe where they were going. "hadn't we better turn back," suggested mark. "our only hope is to press on," replied mr. henderson. "we may cross this zone of boiling water soon." he went into the conning tower to make an observation. he came on the deck the next minute, very much excited. "what's the matter? are we sinking?" asked andy. "we are directly over the south pole!" exclaimed the professor. "we have reached the goal! we have come to the spot hundreds of men have tried to reach! it has been left for us to succeed. look at the deflecting needle!" they crowded into the conning tower to note it. the slender hand of steel stood straight up and down, indicating that the ship was over the south pole, one of the two chief centres of magnetism of the earth. "if we only dared stop to make some scientific notes and observations," said the professor, "we could render much valuable aid to the seekers after truth. but it would be sure death to stay in the boiling water!" "i guess we'd better be getting out of this if we want to reach home alive," spoke andy. indeed they were all suffering very much, for the heat from the water was awful. "speed her up, washington!" called the professor. "we must get out of here!" "which way shall i steer?" asked the colored man. "straight ahead. we are now bound north!" "bound north!" cried jack. "certainly," answered the professor. "we have passed over the exact spot where the south pole is. the deflecting needle is beginning to tilt again. the compass is indicating a northerly direction. you know that after you go as far south as you can, you have to begin to go back north. well, we have gone as far south as we can. now we are going north. we have turned the southern end of the globe, and are on our way back." for several hours the _porpoise_ continued along on top of the water. by degrees, as they left the vicinity of the boiling ocean, it became cooler. the water ceased to seethe and bubble, and jack found, on experiment, that he could bear his hand in it. "hurrah!" he cried, "we are safe now." "next we'll have to prepare to freeze to death," spoke mark. "it's either one extreme or the other this trip. but we've had lots of fun and excitement." "plenty of the last," agreed jack. on and on went the submarine. once it was out of the range of the terrible heated zone, the atmosphere rapidly cooled, until the adventurers were glad to don their heavy garments again. "this marks the ending of the first half of the voyage," announced the professor. "now we are going back. we have accomplished something no other living man has done and i am proud of it. proud of all of you, and proud of the ship!" several hours later, when it was deemed safe, the _porpoise_ was sunk beneath the waves, and once more she speeded along through the water at a fast speed. the ship seemed to know she was going home, for never had she made better time. "we have solved every problem that we met," said the professor while he, with jack and mark, were in the conning tower, as washington was preparing a meal. "except two," said jack. "what are they?" "the ghost of the submarine, and the identity of the anarchists who blew up the easton hotel." "perhaps both riddles may be solved before we get back to maine," answered mr. henderson. they both were, sooner, and in stranger ways than either of the boys expected. that night it was jack's first watch on deck. the ship was speeding on, and by the air the boy knew they were approaching icebergs. at midnight a strange and sudden chill in the air made him look up. almost dead ahead was a big berg. he quickly shut off the engine, and narrowly avoided a collision. then happening to glance back he saw, standing near the companionway leading down into the man-hole a ghostly white shape. "i'll find out what you are this time, or go overboard with you," said jack to himself, clenching his teeth. he crawled along the deck until he thought he was within leaping distance of the weird white thing. then he made a leap. he landed on something soft, which, the moment he struck it, let out a yell that sounded loud on the quiet night. then the thing began to fight. but jack fought back and held on bravely. "here! what are you tryin' to do?" exclaimed a voice in his ear. "what are you trying to do?" asked jack indignantly, finding that the words came from the "ghost." "nice way to treat a man! half kill him!" the white thing went on. "just when i'm trying to get a little sleep you come along and pull me out of bed!" "why, it's bill jones," exclaimed jack, as the light from the conning tower lamp fell on the face of the "ghost." "of course it is; who did you think it was?" asked bill. "what are you doing on deck in your night shirt?" asked the boy, letting the helper rise. "me? on deck? ain't i in my bunk?" "i should say not," replied jack. "what are you doing on deck?" "well! well!" remarked bill, rubbing his eyes. "i've gone and done it again." "done what?" "walked in my sleep. i'm a great sleep walker. greatest you ever knew. once i climbed to the top of our barn when i was asleep." "so you're the ghost of the submarine," exclaimed jack. "that explains it." "i guess you're right," admitted bill, as the others came on deck to see what all the row was about. "i never thought of it when i heard about the ghost, but i can account for it now. i'd get out of my bunk, wander out on deck, and then crawl back again. of course, being barefoot, or in fur slippers, i made no sounds. i don't wonder you thought i was a spirit. queer i didn't wake up after some of the things i went through." "and you always managed to get back to your bunk in time so that we never caught you at it," said jack. "however, it's all over now." and so it was, for after that bill tied a chair in front of his bunk, and if he did get out in his sleep he stumbled against it and awoke before he had gone far. northward the _porpoise_ continued on her journey. she entered a vast field of ice, and only her ability to sink below the surface enabled her to get through it unharmed. there were few adventures going home. once a big whale rammed the ship, as had happened on the going voyage, and several times they were surrounded by hordes of wild polar fish and walrusses, but there were no accidents, and in a couple of weeks the ship entered the temperate zone. then came lazy happy days of sailing through the tropical region. they landed at several islands and renewed their supply of food. "i'm coming back this way some day," observed mr. henderson one afternoon as the ship was sailing along on top of the waves. "what for?" asked jack. "to investigate that strange island with a big hole in the middle that seems to lead to the centre of the earth," was the answer. "i have a fancy we can explore that by means of a balloon. i'm going to try." "will you take us along?" asked the two boys. "i'll see," replied the professor. and later on he did take them on a trip, a thousand miles underground,--but that is another story to tell. it was about a week later that the voyagers came within sight of key west. "off there lies the united states," said mr. henderson. "hurrah for home!" cried mark. three days later they landed at a small florida town. the sight of the _porpoise_ attracted throngs of people to the dock where she tied up. among them was a newsboy. "get me all the papers for the past month," said jack. "i want to see what the news is." "same here," put in mark, and the papers were soon brought. "hurrah!" exclaimed jack, as soon as he had looked at several of the sheets. "what is it?" asked mark, who was unfolding a paper. "anarchists confess," read jack. "two englishmen admit they blew up hotel where lord peckham was stopping. no suspicion attaches to two youths who so mysteriously disappeared!" "hurrah!" joined in mark. "those are only the head lines," went on jack. "there's a long story, and i guess it lets us out." the two boys were completely cleared of the slightest shade of suspicion of the outrage, and there was even an interview with the english detective in which he admitted that he was wrong. a week later the _porpoise_ tied up at her own dock, whence she was launched. "back again," remarked the professor as he stepped ashore. "i've been to the south pole, and to the north pole. i wonder where i shall go next?" "to the big hole and underground," suggested jack. "we shall see," said mr. henderson with a twinkle in his eyes. the end the dave dashaway series by roy rockwood author of the "speedwell boys series" and the "great marvel series." =12mo. illustrated. price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.= =never was there a more clever young aviator than dave dashaway. all up-to-date lads will surely wish to read about him.= [illustration: dave dashaway the young aviator] dave dashaway the young aviator _or in the clouds for fame and fortune_ this initial volume tells how the hero ran away from his miserly guardian, fell in with a successful airman, and became a young aviator of note. dave dashaway and his hydroplane _or daring adventures over the great lakes_ showing how dave continued his career as a birdman and had many adventures over the great lakes, and how he foiled the plans of some canadian smugglers. dave dashaway and his giant airship _or a marvellous trip across the atlantic_ how the giant airship was constructed and how the daring young aviator and his friends made the hazardous journey through the clouds from the new world to the old, is told in a way to hold the reader spellbound. dave dashaway around the world _or a young yankee aviator among many nations_ an absorbing tale of a great air flight around the world, of adventures in alaska, siberia and elsewhere. a true to life picture of what may be accomplished in the near future. dave dashaway: air champion _or wizard work in the clouds_ dave makes several daring trips, and then enters a contest for a big prize. an aviation tale thrilling in the extreme. * * * * * cupples & leon co., publishers, new york the fred fenton athletic series by allen chapman author of "the tom fairfield series," "the boys of pluck series" and "the darewell chums series." =12mo. illustrated. price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.= * * * * * a line of tales embracing school athletics. fred is a true type of the american schoolboy of to-day. * * * * * [illustration: fred fenton the pitcher] fred fenton the pitcher _or the rivals of riverport school_ when fred came to riverport none of the school lads knew him, but he speedily proved his worth in the baseball box. a true picture of school baseball. fred fenton in the line _or the football boys of riverport school_ when fall came in the thoughts of the boys turned to football. fred went in the line, and again proved his worth, making a run that helped to win a great game. fred fenton on the crew _or the young oarsmen of riverport school_ in this volume the scene is shifted to the river, and fred and his chums show how they can handle the oars. there are many other adventures, all dear to the hearts of boys. fred fenton on the track _or the athletes of riverport school_ track athletics form a subject of vast interest to many boys, and here is a tale telling of great running races, high jumping, and the like. fred again proves himself a hero in the best sense of that term. fred fenton: marathon runner _or the great race at riverport school_ fred is taking a post-graduate course at the school when the subject of marathon running came up. a race is arranged, and fred shows both his friends and his enemies what he can do. an athletic story of special merit. * * * * * cupples & leon co., publishers, new york _everybody will love the story of_ nobody's boy * * * * * by hector malot * * * * * [illustration: nobody's boy] the dearest character in all the literature of child life is little remi in hector malot's famous masterpiece _sans famille_ ("nobody's boy"). all love, pathos, loyalty, and noble boy character are exemplified in this homeless little lad, who has made the world better for his being in it. the boy or girl who knows remi has an ideal never to be forgotten. but it is a story for grownups, too. "nobody's boy" is one of the supreme heart-interest stories of all time, which will _make you happier and better_. _4 colored illustrations. $1.25 net._ =_at all booksellers_= * * * * * =cupples & leon co. publishers new york= the boys' outing library _12mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full color._ _price, per volume, 60 cents, postpaid._ [illustration: the saddle boys of the rockies] =the saddle boys series= * * * * * by capt. james carson * * * * * the saddle boys of the rockies the saddle boys in the grand canyon the saddle boys on the plains the saddle boys at circle ranch the saddle boys on mexican trails =the dave dashaway series= * * * * * by roy rockwood * * * * * dave dashaway the young aviator dave dashaway and his hydroplane dave dashaway and his giant airship dave dashaway around the world dave dashaway: air champion =the speedwell boys series= * * * * * by roy rockwood * * * * * the speedwell boys on motorcycles the speedwell boys and their racing auto the speedwell boys and their power launch the speedwell boys in a submarine the speedwell boys and their ice racer =the tom fairfield series= * * * * * by allen chapman * * * * * tom fairfield's school days tom fairfield at sea tom fairfield in camp tom fairfield's pluck and luck tom fairfield's hunting trip =the fred fenton athletic series= * * * * * by allen chapman * * * * * fred fenton the pitcher fred fenton in the line fred fenton on the crew fred fenton on the track fred fenton: marathon runner _send for our free illustrated catalogue._ * * * * * =cupples & leon company, publishers new york= * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page 3, "main" changed to "maine". (coast of maine) page 7, "stearsman" changed to "steersman". (for the steersman) page 16, "stearing" changed to "steering". (or steering tower) page 16, "beeksteak" changed to "beefsteak". (fry a beefsteak) page 19, "speciments" changed to "specimens". (pretty nice specimens) page 20, "steared" changed to "steered". (professor steered her) page 24, word "be" added to the text. (it'll be all) page 32, "lauched" changed to "launched". (she had been launched) page 36, "reined" changed to "reigned". (pandemonium reigned) page 56, "stear" changed to "steer". (to steer properly) page 57, "stear" changed to "steer". (ship will steer) page 63, "helmet" changed to "helmets". (their helmets were) page 67, "stearing" changed to "steering". (professor was steering) page 72, "assasinate" changed to "assassinate". (to assassinate lord) page 76, "want's" changed to "wants". (cabin wants to) page 82, "innner" changed to "inner". (inner door was) page 87, "stearing" changed to "steering". (washington was steering) page 89, "propellors" changed to "propellers". (about the propellers) page 90, "propellor" changed to "propeller". (big propeller in) page 140, "begining" changed to "beginning". (run was beginning) page 158, "wierd" changed to "weird". (weird white object) page 162, "subterreanean" changed to "subterranean". (of subterranean disturbances) page 182, "britanic" changed to "britannic". (his britannic majesty's) page 182, word "was" removed from text. (show something that) original read "show was something that". page 187, "beeing" changed to "being". (was being steered) page 187, "firghtened" changed to "frightened". (gave one frightened) page 192, "folowed" changed to "followed". (silence followed his) page 193, "oscilation" changed to "oscillation". (oscillation of the big) page 195, "preparel" changed to "prepared". (prepared water-proof) page 215, "impossile" changed to "impossible". (flesh was impossible) page 226, "hemlet" changed to "helmet". (his helmet was off) page 229, "see" changed to "sea". (polar sea which) page 236, "hurridly" changed to "hurriedly". (and hurriedly eaten) page 239, "degress" changed to "degrees". (and ten degrees) page 242, "seeth" changed to "seethe". (to seethe and bubble) page 243, extraneous word "more" removed. (once more she) original read "once more more she". seven instances of "manhole" and nine of "man-hole" were retained. "octopus" is spelled "octupus" in this volume. this was changed in the table of contents and a chapter header to reflect text usage. one instance each of penson/pensen was retained. the boy aviators' polar dash or facing death in the antarctic by captain wilbur lawton (pseudonym for john henry goldfrap) boy aviators' series by captain wilbur lawton 1 the boy aviators in nicaragua; or, in league with the insurgents. 2 the boy aviators on secret service; or, working with wireless. 3 the boy aviators in africa; or, an aerial ivory trail. 4 the boy aviators' treasure quest; or, the golden galleon. 5 the boy aviators in record flight; or, the rival aeroplane. 6 the boy aviators' polar dash; or, facing death in the antarctic. contents. chapter i. the polar ship ii. a mysterious robbery iii. off for the south pole iv. a message from the air v. a tragedy of the skies vi. a strange collision vii. adrift on a floating island viii. caught in the flames ix. a queer accident x. the professor is kidnapped xi. a battle in the air xii. adrift xiii. the ship of olaf the viking xiv. marooned on an ice floe xv. dynamiting the reef xvi. a polar storm xvii. the great barrier xviii. the professor takes a cold bath xix. facing the polar night xx. a mysterious light xxi. a penguin hunt xxii. the flaming mountain xxiii. adrift above the snows xxiv. swallowed by a crevasse xxv. the viking's ship xxvi. caught in a trap xxvii. the fate of the dirigible xxviii. the heart of the antarctic the boy aviators' polar dash or facing death in the antarctic chapter i. the polar ship. "oh, it's southward ho, where the breezes blow; we're off for the pole, yo, ho! heave ho!" "is that you, harry?" asked a lad of about seventeen, without looking up from some curious-looking frames and apparatus over which he was working in the garage workshop back of his new york home on madison avenue. "ay! ay! my hearty," responded his brother, giving his trousers a nautical hitch; "you seem to have forgotten that to-day is the day we are to see the polar ship." "not likely," exclaimed frank chester, flinging down his wrench and passing his hand through a mop of curly hair; "what time is it?" "almost noon; we must be at the eric basin at two o'clock." "as late as that? well, building a motor sledge and fixing up the golden eagle certainly occupies time." "come on; wash up and then we'll get dinner and start over." "will captain hazzard be there?" "yes, they are getting the supplies on board now." "say, that sounds good, doesn't it? mighty few boys get such a chance. the south pole,--ice-bergs--sea-lions,--and--and--oh, heaps of things." arm in arm the two boys left the garage on the upper floor of which they had fitted up their aeronautical workshop. there the golden eagle, their big twin-screw aeroplane, had been planned and partially built, and here, too, they were now working on a motor-sledge for the expedition which now occupied most of their waking--and sleeping--thoughts. the erie basin is an enclosed body of water which forms at once a repair shop and a graveyard for every conceivable variety of vessel, steam and sail, and is not the warmest place in the world on a chill day in late november, yet to the two lads, as they hurried along a narrow string-piece in the direction of a big three-masted steamer, which lay at a small pier projecting in an l-shaped formation, from the main wharf, the bitter blasts that swept round warehouse corners appeared to be of not the slightest consequence--at least to judge by their earnest conversation. "what a muss!" exclaimed harry, the younger of the two lads. "well," commented the other, "you'd hardly expect to find a wharf, alongside which a south polar ship is fitting up, on rush orders, to be as clean swept as a drawing-room, would you?" as harry chester had said, the wharf was "a muss." everywhere were cases and barrels all stenciled "ship southern cross, u. s. south polar expedition." as fast as a gang of stevedores, their laboring bodies steaming in the sharp air, could handle the muddle, the numerous cases and crates were hauled aboard the vessel we have noticed and lowered into her capacious holds by a rattling, fussy cargo winch. the shouts of the freight handlers and the sharp shrieks of the whistle of the boss stevedore, as he started or stopped the hoisting engine, all combined to form a picture as confused as could well be imagined, and yet one which was in reality merely an orderly loading of a ship of whose existence, much less her destination, few were aware. as the readers of the boy aviators in record flight; or, the rival aeroplane, will recall, the chester boys, in their overland trip for the big newspaper prize, encountered captain robert hazzard, a young army officer in pursuit of a band of renegade indians. on that occasion he displayed much interest in the aeroplane in which they were voyaging over plains, mountains and rivers on their remarkable trip. they in turn were equally absorbed in what he had to tell them about his hopes of being selected for the post of commander of the expedition to the south pole, which the government was then considering fitting out for the purpose of obtaining meteorological and geographical data. the actual attainment of the pole was, of course, the main object of the dash southward, but the expedition was likewise to do all in its power to add to the slender stock of the world's knowledge concerning the great silences south of the 80th parallel. about a month before this story opens the young captain had realized his wish and the southern cross--formerly a stanch bark-rigged whaler--had been purchased for uses of the expedition. their friend had not forgotten the boys and their aeroplane and in fact had lost no time in communicating with them, and a series of consultations and councils of war had ended in the boys being signed on as the aviators of the expedition. they also had had assigned to their care the mechanical details of the equipment, including a motor sledge, which latter will be more fully described later. that the consent of the boys' parents to their long and hazardous trip had not been gained without a lot of coaxing and persuasion goes without saying. mrs. chester had held out till the last against what she termed "a hare-brained project," but the boys with learned discourses on the inestimable benefits that would redound to humanity's benefit from the discovery of the south pole, had overborne even her rather bewildered opposition, and the day before they stood on the wharf in the erie basin, watching the southern cross swallowing her cargo, like a mighty sea monster demolishing a gigantic meal, they had received their duly signed and witnessed commissions as aviators to the expedition--documents of which they were not a little proud. "well, boys, here you are, i see. come aboard." the two boys gazed upward at the high side of the ship from whence the hail had proceeded. in the figure that had addressed them they had at first no little difficulty in recognizing captain hazzard. in grimy overalls, with a battered woolen cap of the tam o' shanter variety on his head, and his face liberally smudged with grime and dust,--for on the opposite side of the southern cross three lighters were at work coaling her,--a figure more unlike that of the usually trim and trig officer could scarcely be imagined. the lads' confusion was only momentary, however, and ended in a hearty laugh as they nimbly ascended the narrow gangway and gained the deck by their friend's side. after a warm handshake, frank exclaimed merrily: "i suppose we are now another part of the miscellaneous cargo, sir. if we are in the way tell us and we'll go ashore again." "no, i've got you here now and i don't mean to let you escape," laughed the other in response; "in my cabin--its aft there under the break in the poop, you'll find some more overalls, put them on and then i'll set you both to work as tallyers." harry looked blank at this. he had counted on rambling over the ship and examining her at his leisure. it seemed, however, that they were to be allowed no time for skylarking. frank, however, obeyed with alacrity. "ay, ay, sir!" he exclaimed, with a sailor-like hitch at his trousers; "come, harry, my hearty, tumble aft, we might as well begin to take orders now as any other time." "that's the spirit, my boy," exclaimed the captain warmly, as harry, looking a bit shamefaced at his temporary desire to protest, followed his brother to the stern of the ship. once on board there was no room to doubt that the southern cross had once been a whaler under the prosaic name of eben a. thayer. in fact if there had been any indecision about the matter the strong smell of oil and blubber which still clung to her, despite new coats of paint and a thorough cleaning, would have dispelled it. the engine-room, as is usual in vessels of the type of the converted whaler, was as far aft as it could be placed, and the boys noticed with satisfaction as they entered the officers' quarters aft, that the radiators had been connected with the boilers and had warmed the place up to a comfortable temperature. a japanese steward showed them into captain hazzard's cabin, and they selected a suit of overalls each from a higgledy-piggledy collection of oil-skins, rough pilot-cloth suits and all manner of headgear hanging on one of the cabin bulkheads. they had encased themselves in them, and were laughing at the whimsical appearance they made in the clumsy garments, when the captain himself entered the cabin. "the stevedores have knocked off for a rest spell and a smoke and the lighters are emptied," he announced, "so i might as well show you boys round a bit. would you care to?" would they care to? two hearty shouts of assent left the young commander no doubt on this score. the former eben a. thayer had been a beamy ship, and the living quarters of her officers astern left nothing to be desired in the way of room. on one side of the cabin, extending beneath the poop deck, with a row of lights in the circular wall formed by the stern, were the four cabins to be occupied by captain hazzard, the chief engineer, a middle-aged scotchman named gavin mackenzie, professor simeon sandburr, the scientist of the expedition, and the surgeon, a doctor watson gregg. the four staterooms on the other side were to be occupied by the boys, whom the lieutenant assigned to the one nearest the stern, the second engineer and the mate were berthed next to them. then came the cabin of captain pent barrington, the navigating officer of the ship, and his first mate, a new englander, as dry as salt cod, named darius green. the fourth stateroom was empty. the steward bunked forward in a little cabin rigged up in the same deck-house as the galley which snuggled up to the foot of the foremast. summing up what the boys saw as they followed their conductor over the ship they found her to be a three-masted, bark-rigged vessel with a cro' nest, like a small barrel, perched atop of her mainmast. her already large coal bunkers had been added to until she was enabled to carry enough coal to give her a tremendous cruising radius. it was in order to economize on fuel she was rigged for the carrying of sail when she encountered a good slant of wind. her forecastle, originally the dark, wet hole common to whalers, had been built up till it was a commodious chamber fitted with bunks at the sides and a swinging table in the center, which could be hoisted up out of the way when not in use. like the officers' cabins, it was warmed by radiators fed from the main boilers when under way and from the donkey, or auxiliary, boiler when hove to. besides the provisions, which the stevedores, having completed their "spell," were now tumbling into the hold with renewed ardor, the deck was piled high with a strange miscellany of articles. there were sledges, bales of canvas, which on investigation proved to be tents, coils of rope, pick-axes, shovels, five portable houses in knock-down form, a couple of specially constructed whale boats, so made as to resist any ordinary pressure that might be brought to bear on them in the polar drift, and nail-kegs and tool-chests everywhere. peeping into the hold the boys saw that each side of it had been built up with big partitions, something like the pigeon-holes in which bolts of cloth are stored in dry-goods shops--only much larger. each of these spaces was labeled in plain letters with the nature of the stores to be placed there so that those in charge of the supplies would have no difficulty in laying their hands at once on whatever happened to be needed. each space was provided with a swiveled bar of stout timber which could be pulled across the front of the opening in heavy weather, and which prevented anything plunging out. captain hazzard explained that the heavy stores were stowed forward and the provisions aft. a gallery ran between the shelves from stem to stern and provided ready access to any part of the holds. a system of hot steam-pipes had been rigged in the holds so that in the antarctic an equable temperature could be maintained. the great water tanks were forward immediately below the forecastle. the inspection of the engines came last. the southern cross had been fitted with new water-tube boilers--two of them--that steamed readily on small fuel consumption. her engine was triple expansion, especially installed, as the boilers had been, to take the place of the antiquated machinery boasted by the old thayer. "hoot, mon, she's as fine as a liner," commented old mackenzie, the "chief," who had taken charge of the boys on this part of their expedition over the vessel, which was destined to be their home for many months. "some day," said frank, "every vessel will be equipped with gasoline motors and all this clumsy arrangement of boilers and complicated piping will be done away with." the old scotch engineer looked at him queerly. "oh, ay," he sniffed, "and some day we'll all go to sea in pea-soup bowls nae doot." "well, a man in connecticut has built a schooner out of cement," declared harry. the engineer looked at him and slowly wiped his hands on a bit of waste. "i ken his head must be a muckle thicker nor that," was his comment, at which both the boys laughed as they climbed the steel ladders that led from the warm and oily regions to the deck. the engineer, with a "dour" scot's grin, gazed after them. "hoots-toots," he muttered to his gauges and levers, "the great ice has a wonderful way with lads as cocksure as them twa." chapter ii. a mysterious robbery. their inspection of the southern cross completed, the delighted boys accompanied captain hazzard back to the main cabin, where he unfolded before them a huge chart of the polar regions. the chart was traced over in many places with tiny red lines which made zig-zags and curves over the blankness of the region south of the eightieth parallel. "these lines mark the points reached by different explorers," explained the captain. "see, here is scott's furthest south, and here the most recent advance into south polar regions, that of sir ernest shackleton. in my opinion shackleton might have reached his goal if he had used a motor sledge, capable of carrying heavy weights, and not placed his sole dependence on ponies." the boys nodded; frank had read the explorer's narrative and realized that what captain hazzard said was in all probability correct. "it remains for your expedition to carry the stars and stripes further to the southward yet," exclaimed frank, enthusiastically, as captain hazzard rolled up the map. "not only for us," smiled the captain; "we have a rival in the field." "a rival expedition?" exclaimed frank. "exactly. some time this month a japanese expedition under lieutenant saki is to set out from yokahama for wilkes land. "they are to be towed by a man-of-war until they are in the polar regions so as to save the supply of coal on the small steamer they are using," went on the captain. "everything has been conducted with the utmost secrecy and it is their intention to beat us there if possible--hence all this haste." "how did our government get wind of the fact that the japs are getting ready another expedition?" inquired frank, somewhat puzzled. "by means of our secret service men. i don't doubt that the japanese secret service men in this country have also notified their government of our expedition. england also is in the race but the scott expedition will not be ready for some time yet." "you think, then, that the japs have secret agents keeping track of us?" was frank's next question. the captain's reply was cut short by a loud crash. they all started up at the interruption. so intent had they been in their conversation that they had not noticed the jap steward standing close behind them and his soft slippers had prevented them hearing his approach. the crash had been caused by a metal tray he had let drop. he now stood with as much vexation on his impassive countenance as it ever was possible for it to betray. "what on earth are you doing, oyama?" sharply questioned captain hazzard. "i was but about to inquire if the cap-it-an and the boys would not have some refreshments," rejoined the jap. "not now, we are busy," replied captain hazzard, with what was for him some show of irritation. "be off to your pantry now. i will ring if i want you." with an obsequious bow the jap withdrew; but if they could have seen his face as he turned into his small pantry, a cubby-hole for dishes and glasses, they would have noticed that it bore a most singular expression. "it seems curious that while we were talking of jap secret service men that your man should have been right behind us," commented frank. "i don't know that i ought to ask such a question--but can you trust him?" the captain laughed. "oh, implicitly," he said easily, "oyama was with me in the philippines, and has always been a model of all that a good servant should be." soon after this the conference broke up, the boys having promised to have their aeroplane on board early the next day. frank explained that the machine was all ready and in shape for shipping and all that remained to do was to "knock it down," encase it in its boxes and get a wagon to haul it to the pier. "say, harry," said frank earnestly, as the boys, having bade their leave of captain hazzard, who remained on board owing to press of business on the ship, made their way along the maze of wharves and toward a street car. "say it," responded harry cheerfully, his spirits at the tip-top of excitement at the idea of an almost immediate start for the polar regions. "well, it's about that jap." "oh that yellow-faced bit of soft-footed putty--well, what about him?" "well, that 'yellow-faced bit of putty,' as you call him, is not so easily dismissed from my mind as all that. i'm pretty sure that he had some stronger reason than the one he gave for coming up behind us as silently as a cat while we were talking." "but captain hazzard says that he has had him for years. that he can trust him implicitly," protested harry. "just the same i can't get it out of my mind that there is something wrong about the fellow. i wish he hadn't seen that map and the proposed route of our expedition." "oh bosh, you are thinking of what captain hazzard said about the jap secret service. our friend oyama is much too thick to be a secret service man." "he simply looks unimpressive," rejoined frank. "for that reason alone he would make a good man for any such purpose." "well, here comes a car," interrupted harry, "so let's board it and forget our japanese friend. depend upon it you'll find out that he is all o. k. long before we sight an iceberg." "i hope so, i'm sure," agreed frank; but there was a troubled look on his face as he spoke. however, not later than the next morning, as they were screwing up the last of the big blue cases that contained the various parts of the golden eagle, billy barnes, the young reporter who had accompanied the two boys in all of their expeditions, including the one to nicaragua, where, with their aeroplane they helped make central american history, as related in the boy aviators in nicaragua; or, leagued with the insurgents,--billy barnes, the irrepressible, bounced into the garage which they used as a workshop, and which was situated in the rear of their house on madison avenue, with what proved to be important news of the jap. "aha, my young scotts and shackletons, i behold you on the verge of your departure for the land of perpetual ice, polar bears and esquimaux," exclaimed the reporter, striking an attitude like that assumed by commander peary in some of his pictures. "hullo, billy barnes," exclaimed both boys, continuing their work, as they were pretty well used to the young reporter's unceremonious calls, "what brings you out so early?" "oh, a little story to cover in the yorkville court and i thought as i was up this way i'd drop off and pay my respects. say, bring me back a polar bear skin, will you?" "a polar bear skin?" laughed frank, "why there aren't any polar bears at the south pole." "no polar bears," repeated billy lugubriously, "what's the good of a pole without polar bears. me for the frozen north then. i suppose you'll tell me next there are no natives at the south pole either." "well, there are not," rejoined frank. "but there are sea-elephants and ice-leopards and--" began harry. "and sea-cats, i suppose," interrupted billy. "no," exclaimed harry, rather nettled at the young reporter's joking tone, "but there is the ship of olaf--" frank was up like a shot. "didn't we give our word to the captain not to mention a word about that?" he demanded. "that's so," assented harry, abashed, "but i just wanted to show this young person here that he can't treat our expedition with levity." "the ship of olaf, eh?" mused the young reporter, "sounds like a story. who was olaf, if i may ask?" "you may not ask," was frank's rejoinder. "as you know, billy, we have been frank with you, of course under the pledge of secrecy which we know you too well to dream of your breaking. you know we are bound for the south polar regions. you know also that the object of captain hazzard is to discover the pole, if possible; in any event to bring back scientific data of inestimable value; but there's one thing you don't know and of which we ourselves know very little, and that is the thing that harry let slip." "all right, frank," said the young reporter, readily, "i won't say any more about it, only it did sound as if it had possibilities. hullo! ten o'clock; i've got to be jogging along." "what are you going to court about?" inquired frank. "oh, a small case. doesn't look as if it would amount to a row of pins. a jap who was arrested last night, more for safe-keeping than anything else, i guess. he was found near the consulate of his country and appeared to be under the influence of some drug. anyhow, he couldn't look after himself, so a policeman took him to a station-house. of course, there might be a story back of it and that's why i'm on the job." "a jap, eh?" mused frank curiously. "yes; do you number any among your acquaintance?" inquired billy. "well, we do number one; don't we, harry?" laughed frank. at that moment the telephone bell rang sharply in the booth erected in the workshop in order to keep out noise when anyone was conversing over the wire. "wait a second, i'll see what that call is," exclaimed frank, bolting into the booth. he was in it several seconds and when he came out his face was flushed and he seemed excited. "what's the matter--trouble?" inquired billy, noting his apparent perturbation. "yes, it is trouble in a way," assented frank, "i guess we'll take a run to court with you and look over this jap of yours, billy." "think you know him?" "that's just what i want to see." "you seem very anxious about it. anything wrong?" "yes, very wrong. that was captain hazzard on the wire, and a mysterious theft has occurred on the southern cross." chapter iii. off for the south pole. the court-room was crowded as the boys entered it, but armed with billy's police card they soon made their way through a rail that separated the main body of the place from the space within which the magistrate was seated. on the way over frank had related his conversation over the wire with captain hazzard. it appeared that oyama, the jap, was missing and that several papers bearing on the objects of the expedition which were,--except in a general way,--a mystery to the boys themselves, had been stolen. putting two and two together, frank had made up his mind that the jap whose case billy had been assigned to investigate was none other than oyama himself, and as they entered the space described above his eyes eagerly swept the row of prisoners seated in the "pen." "i was sure of it," the boy exclaimed as his eyes encountered an abject, huddled-up figure seated next a ragged, besotted-looking tramp. "sure of what?" demanded harry. "why, that oyama was the man who stole the papers from the southern cross." "well?" "well, there he is now." frank indicated the abject object in the corner who at the same moment raised a yellow face and bloodshot eyes and gazed blearily at him. there was no sign of recognition in the face, however. in fact the jap appeared to be in a stupor of some sort. "is that little jap known to you?" frank turned: a gray moustached man with a red face and keen eyes was regarding him and had put the question. "he is--yes," replied the boy, "but----" "oh, you need not hesitate to talk to me," replied the stranger, "i am dr. mcguire, the prison surgeon, and i take a professional interest in his case. the man is stupefied with opium or some drug that seems to have numbed his senses." "do you think it was self-administered?" asked the boy. "oh, undoubtedly. those fellows go on regular opium debauches sometimes. in this case perhaps it is very fortunate for some one that he was imprudent enough to take such heavy doses of the drug that the policeman picked him up, for a lot of papers were found on him. they are meaningless to me, but perhaps you can throw some light on them." "the papers, we believe, are the property of captain hazzard, the head of the government's south polar expedition," exclaimed frank, whose suspicions had rapidly become convictions at the sight of the jap. "we have no right to examine into their contents, but i suppose there would be no harm in our looking at them to make sure. i can then notify the captain." "you are friends of his?" "we are attached to the expedition," replied frank, "but i must ask you not to mention it, as i do not know but we are breaking our promise of secrecy even in such an important matter as this." "you can depend that i shall not violate your confidence," promised dr. mcguire. it was the matter of few moments only to secure the papers from the court clerk. there was quite a bundle of them, some of them sealed. apparently the thief, elated over his success in stealing them, had indulged himself in his beloved drug before he had even taken the trouble to examine fully into his finds. one paper, however, had been opened and seemed to be, as frank could not help noticing, a sort of document containing "general orders" to the expedition. it consisted of several closely typewritten pages, and on the first one frank lit on the magic words,--"--and concerning the ship of olaf, the viking rover, you will proceed across the barrier, using all discretion, as a rival nation has also some inkling of the presence of the long-lost vessel and,--" though the boy would have given a good deal to do so he felt that he could not honorably read more. he resolutely, therefore, closed the paper and restored it to its place in the mass of other documents. there was, of course, no question that the papers were the property of captain hazzard, and that the jap had stolen them. the latter was therefore sentenced to spend the next six weeks on blackwell's island, by the expiration of which time the southern cross would be well on her voyage toward the great barrier. as the boys left the court, having been told that captain hazzard's papers would be sealed and restored him when he called for them and made a formal demand for their delivery, they were deep in excited talk. "well, if this doesn't beat all," exclaimed frank, "we always seem to be getting snarled up with those chaps. you remember what a tussle they gave us in the everglades." "not likely to forget it," was the brief rejoinder from harry. "i'll never forget winging that submarine of captain bellman's," put in billy. "well, boys, exciting as our experiences were down there, i think that we are on the verge of adventures and perils that will make them look insignificant," exclaimed frank. "don't," groaned billy. "don't what?" "don't talk that way. here am i a contented reporter working hard and hoping that some day my opportunity will come and i shall be a great writer or statesman or something and then you throw me off my base by talking about adventure," was the indignant response. "upon my word, billy barnes, i think you are hinting that you would like to come along." "well, would that be so very curious. oh cracky! if i only could get a chance." "you think you could get a leave of absence?" "two of 'em. but what's the use," billy broke off with a groan, "captain hazzard wouldn't have me and that's all there is to it. no, i'll be stuck here in new york while you fellows are shooting polar bears--oh, i forgot, there aren't any,--well, anyhow, while you're having a fine time,--just my luck." "if you aren't the most contrary chap," laughed frank. "here a short time ago you never even dreamed of coming and now you talk as if you'd been expecting to go right along, and had been meanly deprived of your rights." "i wonder if the captain----," hesitated harry. "would take billy along?" frank finished for him, "well, we will do this much. we have got to go over to the erie basin now and tell captain hazzard about the recovery of his papers. billy can come along if he wants and we will state his case for him, it will take three boys to manage that sledge anyway," went on frank, warming up to the new plan. "i think we can promise you to fix it somehow, billy." "you think you can," burst out the delighted reporter, "oh, frank, if you do, i'll--i'll make you famous. i'll write you up as the discoverer of the ship of olaf and--" "that's enough," suddenly interrupted frank, "if you want to do me a favor, billy, never mention any more about that till captain hazzard himself decides to tell us about it. we only let what we know of the secret slip out by accident and we have no right to speculate on what captain hazzard evidently wishes kept a mystery till the time comes to reveal it." "i'm sorry, frank," contritely said billy, "i won't speak any more about it; but," he added to himself, "you can't keep me from thinking about it." as frank had anticipated, captain hazzard agreed to ship billy barnes as a member of the expedition. he was to be a sort of general secretary and assist the boys with the aeroplane and motor sledge when the time came. the reporter's face, when after a brief conference it was announced to him that he might consider himself one of the southern cross's ship's company, was a study. it was all he could do to keep from shouting at the top of his voice. the contrast between the dignity he felt he ought to assume before captain hazzard and the desire he felt to skip about and express his feelings in some active way produced such a ludicrous mixture of emotions on billy's face that both the boys and the captain himself had to burst into uncontrollable laughter at it. laughter in which the good natured billy, without exactly understanding its cause, heartily joined. a week later the final good-byes were said and the southern cross was ready for sea. she was to meet a coal-ship at monte video in the argentine republic which would tow her as far as the great barrier. this was to conserve her own coal supply. the other vessel would then discharge her cargo of coal,--thus leaving the adventurers a plentiful supply of fuel in case the worst came to worst, and they were frozen in for a second winter. in case nothing was heard of them by the following fall a relief ship was to be despatched which would reach them roughly about the beginning of december, when the antarctic summer is beginning to draw to a close. the commander of the southern cross expected to reach the great southern ice-barrier in about the beginning of february, when the winter, which reaches its climax in august, would be just closing in. the winter months were to be devoted to establishing a camp, from which in the following spring--answering to our fall--the expedition would be sent out. "hurray! a winter in the polar ice," shouted the boys as the program was explained to them. "and a dash for the pole to cap it off," shouted the usually unemotional frank, his face shining at the prospect. as has been said, the southern cross was an old whaler. built rather for staunchness than beauty, she was no ideal of a mariner's dream as she unobtrusively cleared from her wharf one gray, chilly morning which held a promise of snow in its leaden sky. there were few but the stevedores, who always hang about "the basin," and some idlers, to watch her as she cast off her lines and a tug pulled her head round till she pointed for the opening of the berth in which she had lain so long. of these onlookers not one had any more than a hazy idea of where the vessel was bound and why. as the southern cross steamed steadily on down the bay, past the bleak hills of staten island, on by sandy hook, reaching out its long, desolate finger as if pointing ships out to the ocean beyond, the three boys stood together in a delighted group in the lee of a pile of steel drums, each containing twenty gallons of gasolene. "well, old fellow, we're off at last," cried frank, his eye kindling as the southern cross altered her course a bit and stood due south down the jersey coast. "that's it," cried billy, with a wave of his soft cap, "off at last; we're the three luckiest boys on this globe, i say." "same here," was harry's rejoinder. the blunt bows of the southern cross began to lift to the long heave of the ever restless atlantic. she slid over the shoulder of one big wave and into the trough of another with a steady rhythmic glide that spoke well for her seaworthy qualities. frank, snugly out of the nipping wind in the shelter of the gasolene drums, was silent for several minutes musing over the adventurous voyage on which they were setting out. thus he had not noticed a change coming over harry and billy. suddenly a groan fell on his ear. startled, the boy looked round. on the edge of the hatch sat billy and beside him, his head sunk in his hands, was harry. "what's the matter with you fellows?" demanded frank. at that instant an unusually large breaker came rolling towards the southern cross and caught her fair and square on the side of the bow. deep laden as she was it broke over her and a wall of green water came tumbling and sweeping along the decks. frank avoided it by leaping upward and seizing a stanchion used to secure the framework holding down the deck load. but neither harry nor billy moved, except a few minutes later when another heavy roll sent them sliding into the scuppers. "come, you fellows, you'd better get up, and turn in aft," said frank. "oh, leave me alone," groaned billy. "i'm going to die, i think," moaned harry. at this moment the new steward, a raw boy from vermont, who had been at sea for several years, came up to where the two boys were suffering. "breakfast's ready," he announced, "there's some nice fat bacon and fried eggs and jam and----" it was too much. with what strength they had left billy and harry tumbled to their feet and aimed simultaneous blows at him. it was a final effort and as the southern cross plunged onward toward her mysterious goal she carried with her two of the most sea-sick boys ever recorded on a ship's manifest. chapter iv. a message from the air. it was a bright, sunshiny morning a week later. the southern cross was now in sub-tropic waters, steaming steadily along under blue skies and through smooth azure water flecked here and there with masses of yellow gulf weed. the boys were in a group forward watching the flying fish that fled like coveys of frightened birds as the bow of the polar ship cut through the water. under dr. gregg's care billy and harry had quite recovered from their sea-sickness. "off there to the southeast somewhere is the treasure galleon and the sargasso sea," said harry, indicating the purplish haze that hung on the horizon. [footnote: see vol. 4 of this series, the boy aviators' treasure quest; or, the golden galleon.] "yes, and off there is the south pole," rejoined frank, pointing due south, "i wish the old southern cross could make better speed, i'm impatient to be there." "and i'm impatient to solve some of the mystery of this voyage," put in billy, "here we've been at sea a week and captain hazzard hasn't told us yet anything about that--that,--well you know, that ship you spoke about, frank." "he will tell us all in good time," rejoined the other, "and now instead of wasting speculation on something we are bound not to find out till we do find it out, let's go aft to the wireless room and polish up a bit." the southern cross carried a wireless apparatus which had been specially installed for her polar voyage. the aerials stretched from her main to mizzen mast and a small room, formerly a storeroom, below the raised poop containing the cabins had been fitted up for a wireless room. in this the boys had spent a good deal of time during their convalescence from sea-sickness and had managed to "pick-up" many vessels within their radius,--which was fifteen hundred miles under favorable conditions. frank was the first to clap on the head-receiver this morning and he sat silently for a while absently clicking out calls, to none of which he obtained an answer. suddenly, however, his face grew excited. "hullo," he cried, "here's something." "what?" demanded harry. "i don't know yet," he held up his hand to demand silence. "that's queer," he exclaimed, after a pause, in which the receiver had buzzed and purred its message into his ear. the others looked their questions. "there's something funny about this message," he went on. "i cannot understand it. whoever is calling has a very weak sending current. i can hardly hear it. one thing is certain though, it's someone in distress." the others leaned forward eagerly, but their curiosity was not satisfied immediately by frank. instead his face became set in concentration once more. after some moments of silence, broken only by the slight noise of the receiver, he pressed his hand on the sending apparatus and the southern cross's wireless began to crackle and spit and emit a leaping blue flame. "what's he sending?" asked billy, turning to harry. "wait a second," was the rejoinder. the wireless continued to crackle and flash. "cracky," suddenly cried harry, "hark at that, billy." "what," sputtered the reporter, "that stuff doesn't mean anything to me. what's he done, picked up a ship or a land station or what?" "no," was the astounding response, "he's picked up an airship!" "oh, get out," protested the amazed billy. "that's right," snapped frank, "as far as i can make out it's a dirigible balloon that has been blown out to sea. they tried to give me their position, and as near as i can comprehend their message, they are between us and the shore somewhere within a radius of about twenty miles." "are they in distress?" demanded billy. "yes. the heat has expanded their gas and they fear that the bag of the ship may explode at any moment. they cut off suddenly. the accident may have occurred already." "why don't they open the valve?" "i suppose because in that case they'd stand every chance of dropping into the sea," responded frank, disconnecting the instrument and removing the head-piece. "i have sent word to them that we will try to rescue them, but i'm afraid it's a slim chance. i must tell captain hazzard at once." followed by the other two, frank dashed up the few steps leading to the deck and unceremoniously burst into the captain's cabin where the latter was busy with a mass of charts and documents in company with captain barrington, the navigating commander. "i beg your pardon," exclaimed frank, as captain hazzard looked up, "but i have picked up a most important message by wireless,--two men, in an airship, are in deadly peril not far from us." the two commanders instantly became interested. "an airship!" cried captain hazzard. "what's that!" exclaimed captain barrington. "did they give you their position?" he added quickly. "yes," replied the boy, and rapidly repeated the latitude and longitude as he had noted it. "that means they are to the west of us," exclaimed captain barrington as the boy concluded. he hastily picked up a speaking tube and hailed the wheel-house, giving instructions to change the course. he then emerged on deck followed by captain hazzard and the boys. the next hour was spent in anxiously scanning the surrounding sea. suddenly a man who had been sent into the crow's nest on the main mast gave a hail. "i see something, sir," he cried, pointing to the southwest. "what is it," demanded the captain. "looks like a big bird," was the response. slinging his binoculars round his neck by their strap, captain barrington himself clambered into the main shrouds. when he had climbed above the cross-trees he drew out his glasses and gazed in the direction the lookout indicated. the next minute he gave a shout of triumph. "there's your dirigible, boys," he exclaimed, and even billy overcame his dislike to clambering into the rigging for a chance to get a look at the airship they hoped to save. viewed even through the glasses she seemed a speck, no larger than a shoe button, drifting aimlessly toward the south, but as the southern cross drew nearer to her she stood out in more detail. the watchers could then see that she was a large air craft for her type and carried two men, who were running back and forth in apparent panic on her suspended deck. suddenly one of them swung himself into the rigging and began climbing up the distended sides of the big cigar-shaped gas bag. "what can he be going to do?" asked captain hazzard. "i think i know," said frank. "the valve must be stuck and they have decided now that as we are so near they will take a chance and open it and risk a drop into the sea rather than have the over-distended bag blow up." "of course. i never thought of that," rejoined the captain, "that's just what they are doing." "that man is taking a desperate chance," put in professor simeon sandburr, who had climbed up and joined the party and looked with his long legs and big round glasses, like some queer sort of a bird perched in the rigging. "hydrogen gas is deadly and if he should inhale any of it he would die like a bug in a camphor bottle." interest on board the southern cross was now intense in the fate of the dirigible. even the old chief engineer had left his engines and wiping his hands with a bit of waste, stood gazing at the distressed cloud clipper. "the mon moost be daft," he exclaimed, "any mon that wud go tae sea in sic a craft moost be daft. it's fair temptin' o' providence." at that instant there was a sharp and sudden collapse of the balloon bag. it seemed to shrivel like a bit of burned paper, and the structure below it fell like a stone into the ocean, carrying with it the man who had remained on it. of the other, the one who had climbed the bag, not a trace could be seen. even as the onlookers gazed horror-stricken at the sudden blotting out of the dirigible before their eyes the loud roar of the explosion of its superheated gas reached their ears. "every pound of steam you've got, chief," sharply commanded captain barrington, almost before the dirigible vanished, "we must save them yet." the old engineer dived into his engine room and the southern cross, with her gauges registering every pound of steam her boilers could carry, rushed through the water as she never had before in all her plodding career. "heaven grant we may not be too late," breathed captain hazzard, as, followed by the boys, he clambered out of the rigging. "if only they can swim we may save them." "or perhaps they have on life-belts," suggested billy. "neither will do them much good," put in a voice at his elbow grimly. it was professor sandburr. "why?" demanded frank, "we will be alongside in a few minutes now and if they can only keep up we can save them." "the peril of drowning is not so imminent as another grave danger they face," spoke the professor. "what's that?" "sharks," was the reply, "these waters swarm with them." chapter v. a tragedy of the skies. it was soon evident that the two men were supporting themselves in the water. their heads made black dots on the surface beneath which the heavy deck structure of the dirigible had vanished. through the glasses it could be seen that they were swimming about awaiting the arrival of the vessel which was rushing at her top speed to their aid. soon the southern cross was alongside and a dozen ropes and life buoys were hastily cast over the side. but even as one of the men grasped a rope's end he gave a scream of terror that long rang in the boys' ears. at the same instant a huge, dark body shot through the water and then there was a whitish gleam as the monster shark turned on its back with its jaws open displaying a triple row of saw-like teeth. "quick, shoot him," cried captain hazzard. but nobody had a rifle or revolver. frank hastily darted into his cabin for his magazine weapon but when he reappeared there was only a crimson circle on the water to mark where the terrible, man-killing shark had vanished with his prey. attracted, no doubt, by the mysterious sense that tells these sea tigers where they can snap up a meal, other dark fins now began to cut through the water in all directions. the second man, almost overcome by the horror of his companion's fate, however, had presence of mind enough to grasp a rope's end. in a few seconds he had been hauled to the vessel's side and several of the crew were preparing to hoist him on board when two of the monsters made a simultaneous rush at him, frank's revolver cracked at the same instant and the sea tigers, with savage snaps of their jaws, which, however, fell short of their intended prey, rolled over and vanished. the rescued man when hauled on deck was a pitiable object. but even in his half famished condition and with the great beard that he wore there was something very familiar--strangely so--about him to the boys. frank was the first to solve the mystery. "ben stubbs," he exclaimed. "who's that that called ben stubbs," exclaimed the man over whom a dozen sailors and the doctor had been bending. "it's me," shouted frank, regardless of grammar, "frank chester." the amazement on the face of the old salt who had accompanied the boys in africa and the everglades and shared their perils in the sargasso sea, was comical to behold. "well, what in the name of the great horn-spoon air you boys doing here," he gasped, for harry and billy had now come forward and were warmly shaking his hand. "well, answer us first: what are you doing here?" demanded frank. "coming mighty near my finish like my poor mate," was the reply. "perhaps your friend had better come in the cabin and have something to eat while he talks," suggested captain hazzard to the boys. all agreed that that would be a good idea and the castaway was escorted to the cabin table on which hiram scroggs the vermonter soon spread a fine meal. "wall, first and foremost," began ben, the meal being dispatched, "i 'spose you want to know how i come to be out here skydoodling around in a dirigible?" "that's it," cried billy. "it's just this way," resumed the old sailor drawing out his aged pipe. "yer see, my pardner, james melville,--that's the poor feller that's dead,--and me was trying out his new air-craft when we got blown out ter sea. we'd been goin' fer two days when you picked up the wireless call for help he was sending out. i used ter say that wireless was a fool thing ter have on an air-ship, but i owe my life ter it all right. "ter go back a bit, i met melville soon after we got back from the treasure hunt. he was a friend of my sister's husband and as full of ideas as a bird dog of fleas. but he didn't have no money to carry out his inventions and as i had a pocketful i couldn't exactly figure how to use, i agreed to back him in his wireless dirigible. we tried her out several times ashore and then shipped her to floridy, meaning to try to fly to cuba. but day afore yesterday while we was up on a trial flight the wind got up in a hurry and at the same moment something busted on the engine and, before we knew where we was, we was out at sea." "you must have been scared to death," put in professor sandburr who was an interested listener. "not at first we wasn't. poor melville in fact seemed to think it was a fine chance to test his ship. he managed to tinker up the engine after working all night and part of yesterday on it and as we had plenty to eat and drink on board--for we had stocked the boat up preparatory to flying to cuba--we didn't worry much. "howsomever, early this morning, after we'd had the engine going all night we found we was still in the same position and for a mighty good reason--one of the blades of the propeller had snapped off and there we were,--practically just where we'd been the night before and with no chance doing anything but drift about and wait for help. melville never lost his nerve though. "'we'll be all right, ben,' says he to me, and though i didn't feel near so confident, still i chirped up a little for i had been feeling pretty blue, i tell you. "right after we had had a bite to eat he starts in hammering away at the wireless, sending out calls for help while i just sat around and hoped something would turn up. some observations we took showed that we had not drifted very much further from land in the night on account of there being no wind. this looked good for it meant that we were, or should be, in the path of ships. the only thing that worried me was that mighty few coasting vessels carry wireless, and i was surprised when we got an answer from what i knew later was the southern cross. "it was just as melville was getting your answer that i noticed the bag. the air had grown hot as an oven as the sun rose higher and about noon i looked up just to see if there wasn't a cloud in the sky that might mean a storm, and perhaps a change of wind that maybe would blow us back over land again. what i saw scared me. the bag was blown out as tight as the skin of a sausage, and it didn't look to me as if it could swell much more without busting. "i pointed it out to melville and he went up in the air--worried to death. "'the gas is expanding,' he explains, 'it's the sun that's doing it. if we don't let some gas out we'll bust.' "and if we do we'll drop into the sea," says i. "'yes, that's very likely,' he replied, as cool as a cucumber, 'when the evening comes and the gas condenses, with what we've lost, if we pull the valve open, we won't have enough to keep the ship in the air.' "'there's only one thing to do,' he went on, 'we must wait till this ship i've been speaking to by wireless comes in sight. then we'll take a chance. if the worst comes to worst we can float about till they pick us up.' "that seemed a good plan to me and i never gave the sharks a thought. but when you drew near and it seemed as if the bag was going to bust in a second's time and we tried to open the valve--we couldn't. the halliards that work it had got twisted in the gale that blew us out to sea and they wouldn't come untangled. "melville takes a look at the pressure gauge. then he gave a long whistle. "'if we don't do something she'll bust in five seconds,' he says. "then i suddenly made up my mind. without saying a word to him i kicked off my boots and started to climb into the rigging. "'what are you going to do?' asked melville. "open that valve, says i. "we saw you climbing and could not imagine what you were doing," put in billy. "wall," continued the old sailor, "i managed fine at first, although that thar gas sausage was stretched as smooth and tight as a drum. the network around it gave me a foothold though, and once i was half-way round the lower bulge of the bag--where i was clinging on upside down,--i was all right. "i had the valve lever in my hand and was just going to open it when i felt everything cave in around me like something had been pulled from under my feet--or as if i had been sitting on a cloud and it had melted. "the dirigible had blown up. "luckily i kept my wits about me and deliberately made a dive for the sea. it was a good height but i struck it clean. down and down i went till i thought i'd never come up again. my ear-drums felt like they'd bust and my head seemed to have been hit with an axe. but come up i did eventually as you know, and found poor george melville there, too. of the dirigible there was not so much of as a match-stick left. the rest you know." ben's voice shook a little as he reached the latter part of his narrative. the rugged sailor's face grew soft and he winked back a tear. the others said nothing for a few seconds and then captain hazzard looked up. "since you have become one of us in such a strange way, i presume you would like to know where we are bound for?" "wall, if it ain't askin' too much i would," rejoined the rugged adventurer. "we are bound for the south pole." ben never flicked an eyelid. "ay, ay, sir," was all he said. "i have a proposition to make to you," continued the captain. "we need a bos'n, will you sign on? if you do not care to we will put you ashore at the first convenient port or hail a homeward-bound ship and have you transferred." the old sailor looked positively hurt. "what; me lose an opportunity to see the south pole, to shoot polar bears--" "there aren't any," put in billy. "wall, whatever kind of critters there are there," went on the old man, "no, sir; ben stubbs ain't the man to hold back on a venture like this. sign me on as bos'n, and if i don't help nail uncle sam's colors to the south pole call me a doodle-bug." "a doodle-bug," exclaimed professor sandburr, "what kind of a bug is that? if you know where to find them i hope you will catch one and forward it to me." ben grinned. "i guess doodle-bugs is like south polar bears," he said. "how is that, my dear sea-faring friend?" "there ain't any," laughed ben, blotting his big, scrawling signature on the ship's books. on and on toward the pole plied the southern cross. one night when she was about two hundred miles at sea off the mouth of the amazon, the boys, as it was one of the soft tropical nights peculiar to those regions, were all grouped forward trying to keep cool and keeping a sharp lookout for the real southern cross. this wonderful, heavenly body might be expected to be visible almost any night now, captain hazzard had told them. old ben shared their watch. the little group was seated right on the forefoot or "over-hang" of the polar ship, their legs dangling over the bow above the water. beneath their feet they could see the bright phosphorous gleam as the ship ploughed onward. they were rather silent. in fact, except for desultory conversation, the throb of the engines and the regular sounding of the ship's bell as it marked the hours were the only sounds to be heard. it was past eight bells and everyone on the ship but the helmsman had turned in, leaving the boys and ben on watch, when there came a terrific shock that caused the vessel to quiver and creak as if she had run bow on into solid land. captain hazzard was thrown from his bunk and all over the vessel there was the wildest confusion. shouts and cries filled the air as captain hazzard, not able to imagine what had happened rushed out on deck in his night clothes. the sky had become overcast and it was terribly black. it was hardly possible for one to see his hand before his face. a heavy sulphurous smell was in the air. "what is it? what has happened? did we hit another ship?" shouted captain barrington, appearing from his cabin. the helmsman could give no explanation. there had been a sudden shock and he had been knocked off his feet. what had struck the ship or what she had struck he could not make out. captain barrington knew there were no rocks so far out at sea and he also knew that he could not be near land. the only explanation was a collision with another ship, but had that been the case surely, he argued, they would have heard shouts and cries on the other vessel. "send forward for the boys and ben stubbs, they had the watch," he commanded. a man hurried forward to execute his order but he was soon back with a white scared face. "the young lads and bos'n stubbs aren't there," he exclaimed in a frightened tone. "not there," repeated captain hazzard. "no, sir. not a trace of them. beggin' your pardon, sir, i think it's ghosts." "don't talk nonsense," sharply commanded his superior. "have the ship searched for them." "very good, sir," and the man, with a tug at his forelock, hastened away to spread the word. but a search of every nook and cranny of the ship only added to the mystery. neither the boys nor ben were to be found. had ghosts indeed snatched them into aerial regions, as some of the more superstitious men seemed inclined to believe they could not have vanished more utterly. chapter vi. a strange collision. we must now turn back and ascertain what has become of our young adventurers and their rugged old companion. we left them sitting on the bow--or rather perched there in positions none too secure in case of a sudden lurch of the ship. "i smell land," had been ben's sudden exclamation after one of the prolonged silences which, as has been said, possessed them that night. the boys laughed. "laugh away," declared ben, "but i do. any old sailor can tell it." "but we are two hundred miles at sea," objected frank. "don't make no difference, i smell land," stubbornly repeated the old sailor. "maybe the wind is off shore and that's the reason," suggested billy. "a sensible suggestion, youngster," approved ben. "i guess that is the reason for there is no island in this part of the world that i ever heard tell of. but say," he broke off suddenly, "what's come over the weather. it's getting black and the stars are blotted out. there's a storm brewing and a bad one, or i'm mistaken." the boys agreed that there did seem to be every indication of an approaching tropical disturbance of some kind. the air had suddenly grown heavy and sulphurous. there was an oppressive quality in it. "i'm going aft to tell the captain that there's a bad blow coming on or i'm a dutchman," exclaimed ben, starting to scramble to his feet. "better hold onto that stay or you'll topple overboard," warned frank, as ben, balancing himself, got into a standing posture. "what me, an old sailor topple over," shouted ben, "not much younker, why i--" the sentence was never finished. at that instant the shock that had aroused captain hazzard and terrified the whole ship's company hurled him headlong into the night and the boys, balanced as they were on the prow of the trembling ship, were shot after him into the darkness as if they had been hurled out of catapults. frank's feelings as he fell through the darkness he could not afterward describe, still less his amazement when, instead of falling into the sea, fully prepared to swim for his life, he found himself instead plunged into a sticky ooze. for several seconds, in fact, he was too amazed to utter a sound or move. it seemed he must be dreaming. then he extended his hands and almost gave a cry so great was his amazement. he had encountered an unmistakable tree trunk! he was on land--not dry land--for the boy was mired to the knees in sticky mud,--but nevertheless land. land in midocean. hardly had he recovered from his first shock of surprise when he heard a voice exclaim: "can anyone tell me am i awake or dreaming in my bunk?" "what's the matter, billy?" hailed frank, overjoyed to know that one at least of his comrades was safe. before billy could reply harry's voice hailed through the darkness. "i'm up to my neck in mud. where are we, anyhow?" "we're on dry land in midocean, shiver my timbers if we ain't," came a deep throated hail, which proceeded from ben stubbs. "thank heaven we are all safe anyhow," cried frank, "this mud is mighty uncomfortable, though." "well, if it hadn't been here we'd have been eaten by sharks by this time," billy assured them; an observation all felt to be true. "where can the ship be?" exclaimed harry's voice suddenly. "miles off by this time," said frank. "i don't suppose they have even missed us and even if they have it's so black they could never find us." "let's see where we are," suggested ben, "anyhow i'm going to try to get out of this mud. it's like a pig-pen." his observation struck the boys as a good suggestion and they all wallowed in a direction they deemed was forward and soon were rewarded for their efforts by finding themselves on real dry land. by stretching out their hands they could feel tree trunks and dense brush all about them. "it's no dream," declared frank, "we are really on land. but where?" "maybe the ship was way off her course and we are stranded on the coast of brazil," suggested harry. "not likely," corrected ben, "and besides if we'd hit land the ship would be ashore." "then what can we be on?" demanded frank. "give it up," said billy. "anybody got a match?" asked frank. luckily there were no lack of these and as the boys carried them in the waterproof boxes they had used on their previous expeditions they were dry. some were soon struck and a bonfire built of the brush and wood they found about them. it was a strange tropical scene the glare illuminated. all about were palm trees and tropic growth of various kinds; many of the plants bearing fruits unfamiliar to the boys. some large birds, scared by the light, flapped screaming out of the boughs above them as the bonfire blazed up. they could now see that they had been pitched out of the ship onto a muddy beach, the ooze of which stuck to their clothes like clay. the spot in which they stood was a few feet above the sea level. "well, there's no use trying to do anything till daylight," said frank, "we had better sleep as well as we can and start out to try and find a house of some sort in the morning." all agreed this was a good plan and soon they were wrapped in slumber. frank's sleep was restless and broken, however, and once or twice he had an uneasy feeling that something or somebody was prowling about the "camp." once he could have sworn he saw a pair of eyes, like two flaming points of fire, glare at him out of the blackness; but as it was not repeated, he assured himself that it was only his nervous imagination and composed himself to sleep once more. a sharp thunder storm raged above them shortly before daybreak and they were compelled to seek what shelter they could under a fallen tree trunk. the storm was the one that had blackened the sky some hours before. luckily it was as short as it was sharp, and when the sun rose it showed them a scene of glistening tropic beauty. but the boys had little eye for scenery. "what are we going to do for breakfast?" was billy's manner of voicing the general question that beset them all after they had washed off some of the mud of the night before. "tighten our belts," grinned harry. "not much; not while them oysters is there waiting to be picked," exclaimed ben pointing to some branches which dipped in the sea and to which bunches of the bivalves were clinging. "i've got some biscuits in my pocket," said frank, "i brought them on deck with me last night in case i got hungry on watch." "well, we'll do fine," cheerfully said ben, as having heated some stones he set the oysters to broil on them. despite his cheerful tone, however, not one of the little party was there that did not think with longing regrets of the snowy linen and bountiful meals aboard the southern cross. breakfast over, ben announced that the first thing to do was to try to find out where they could be. it was agreed for this purpose to advance along the beach for five miles or so in opposite directions, the group being formed into two parties for the purpose. harry and frank paired off in one party and ben stubbs and billy formed the other. they were to meet at noon or as soon thereafter as possible and compare notes. frank and harry tramped resolutely along the beach under a baking hot sun till they felt as if they were going to drop, but they held pluckily on, fortunately having found several springs along their line of march. from time to time they eagerly scanned the expanse of sparkling sea that stretched before them; but it was as empty of life as a desert. "do you suppose the ship will make a search for us?" asked frank. "how can we tell," rejoined his brother, "they will have found out we are gone by this time and will naturally conclude that we fell overboard and were drowned or eaten by sharks." both agreed that such was probably likely to be the fact and that if the coast on which they were cast away proved to be uninhabited their situation might be very serious. "on the other hand, the ship may have gone down after the collision," suggested harry, "how she ever came to graze this land and then escape i can't make out." "i've been puzzling over that, too," replied frank, "there's a lot that's very mysterious about this whole thing. the southern cross is, as you know, equipped with a submarine bell which should give warning when she approaches shallow water. why didn't it sound last night?" "because there must be deep water right up to this coast," was the only explanation harry could offer. "that's just it," argued his brother. "but what is a coast doing here at all. we are two hundred miles out in the south atlantic, or rather, we were last night." "the charts don't show any land out there, do they?" "not so much as a pin point. some of the deepest parts of the ocean are encountered there." "then the ship must have been off her course." "it seems impossible. she is in charge of experienced navigators. her compasses and other instruments are the most perfect of their kind." "maybe it is a dream after all, and we'll wake up and find ourselves in our bunks," was all harry could say. before frank could find anything to reply to this extraordinary suggestion he gave a sudden tense cry of: "hark!" both boys stopped and above their quick breathing they could hear the beating of their hearts. human voices were coming toward them. luckily frank had his revolver, having been using it the day before in shooting at huge turtles that floated lazily by. he had by a lucky oversight neglected to take it off when he had finished his target practice, merely thrusting it back into its holster. he drew the weapon now, and grasping harry by the arm pulled him down beside him into a clump of brush. "we'll hide here till we see who it is coming," he said. chapter vii. adrift on a floating island. the voices grew nearer and suddenly to his amazement frank heard his own name mentioned. the next moment both lads broke into a loud exclamation of surprise. those approaching their place of concealment were billy barnes and ben stubbs. it would be difficult to say which pair of adventurers were more astonished as they met on the beach. "shiver my timbers!" exclaimed ben, "whar did you boys come from? did you turn back?" "turn back?" echoed frank, "no, we've been keeping right on." "wall," drawled ben, "then what i was afeard of at first is true." "what's that, ben?" "why, that we are on an island." "on an island!" "yes, a floating island." for a moment they were all dumb with amazement. then ben went on: "i've heard old sailors tell of such things off of this yer coast. these islands--as they are called--are nothing more or less than huge sections of forest torn from the banks of the amazon when it is in flood and floated out ter sea on its current." "but how can they keep afloat?" asked harry. "why the tangled roots and tree limbs keep 'em up for a long time," rejoined ben, "and then they sink." "i hope our island isn't sinking," exclaimed frank, anxiously looking about him. "not much fear of that; but it's moving, all right," replied the old sailor, "just fix your eyes on that cloud for a minute." the boys did as directed, and, sure enough, the island, as they now knew it, was moving slowly along, doubtless urged by some current of the ocean. "suppose the ship never finds us," gasped billy. "now, just put thoughts like that out of your head, youngster," exclaimed ben sharply. "i've been in worse fixes than this and got out of them. what we had best do now is to gather up some of those big cocoanuts that's scattered about there and make waterholders out of them." "but there's plenty of water flowing from the springs. we passed several of them," objected harry. "that's just the water that has soaked into the ground after the rain," said ben. "it will soon dry up as the day goes on." the adventurers at once set to work gathering up cocoanuts and with their knives scooping out their shells so as to form sort of pots out of them. these were filled with water at the nearest of the little springs and placed in the shade. "now to gather some more oysters and we'll have dinner," said ben, when the boys had filled what he pronounced to be a sufficient number of the improvised pots. the boys set to work at the task at once, stripping from the low hanging branches the oysters that clung to them. these were roasted in the same manner as the previous night and washed down with water and cocoanut milk. "well, we shan't starve for a while, anyhow," said ben, as they concluded their meal. "if the worst comes to the worst i guess we can live on cocoanuts for a while." after some talk about their situation and the prospects of their being rescued from it ben announced that he was going to explore the interior of the island and see if he could find some tree up which it would be possible to swarm and attach a sort of signal or at any rate obtain an extended view of the sea. the boys, who felt tired and dispirited, said that they would remain in the camp--if camp it could be called. ben had been gone perhaps half an hour, when they were aroused by a sudden shout. at the sound they all sprang to their feet from the restful postures they had assumed. there was a note of terror in the cry. "help, boys, help!" the sound rang through the forest and then died away, as if the shouter had been suddenly silenced. "it's ben," shouted frank. "what can have happened?" gasped harry. "he is in trouble of some kind," shouted billy barnes. "come on, boys," exclaimed frank, drawing his revolver, "get your knives ready, we may need all the weapons we have." they plunged into the forest in the direction from which they judged the cries had proceeded and after a few minutes pushing through the dense brush, which greatly hampered their progress, they heard a tremendous noise of breaking tree limbs and a violent threshing about as if some huge body was rushing through the woods. "what can it be?" gasped frank, his face pale at the sound of the struggle. in almost the same breath his question was answered. pushing aside some brush the boys saw before them a small glade or clearing. in the midst of this stood ben, his face transfixed with horror and brandishing a seaman's knife. facing him, and seemingly about to dart forward, was the largest serpent they had ever seen; the sunlight checkered its bright colored folds. its red tongue darted wickedly in and out as it faced the brave seaman. "shoot, frank. shoot and kill it," implored harry. with a white, tense face the elder boy leveled his revolver. he pulled the trigger and, before the sharp report that followed had died away, the monstrous, snake was threshing its huge body about in agony. but as they started to cheer the effect of the shot a cry of horror broke from the boys. in its struggles the monster had convulsed its folds till frank, who was caught off his guard, was within their reach. in a second he was wrapped in the giant reptile's grip without having time to utter even an outcry. powerless, with only their puny knives with which to give battle to the serpent, the boys stood petrified with terror. even ben, to whom his rescue and frank's peril had been unfolded so swiftly that he was half-dazed, seemed unable to determine what to do. but indecision only held for a moment. then with a cry he jumped forward and picked up frank's revolver, which the boy had dropped when the serpent seized him. with a prayer on his lips the old sailor fired. almost with the rapidity of a single bullet the whole contents of the automatic's magazine poured out and every missile took effect in the reptile's huge head. in its death agony it straightened out its folds and frank's senseless body dropped from them, seemingly limp and lifeless. the boys started to rush in, but ben held them back with a warning hand. "hold on; it may not be dead yet," he warned. but a brief inspection proved that the great snake had succumbed to ben's fusillade and, this settled, they dragged frank to a low bank, where the extent of his injuries could be ascertained. "no bones broken," pronounced ben, after a careful examination. it was not long before the boy opened his eyes and in a short time he declared he felt as well as ever. the serpent on being measured with frank's pocket rule proved to be a trifle over twenty feet long and of great girth. "it's an anaconda," said ben, "there are lots of 'em up along the amazon and they are as deadly a snake as there is. i've heard tell they can crush a horse in their folds." "i hope there are no more of them on the island," exclaimed billy. "we shall have to be careful," rejoined ben, "there may be other dangerous creatures here, too. this island, as i should judge, must be all of six miles around and there's room for a lot of ugly critters in that space." leaving the dead body of the snake the adventurers made their way back to camp. the first thing that all wanted was a drink of water. they made for the place in which the drinking fluid had been left. as soon as his eyes fell on the row of improvised water pots frank gave an exclamation of dismay. "look here," he shouted, "there's some one on this island besides ourselves." "what!" was the amazed chorus. "there must be," went on the lad, "see here, there were twenty cocoanut shells of water when we went away, and now there are only fifteen." "five gone!" exclaimed ben in an alarmed voice, "and the spring has already dried up." "hullo! what's that?" suddenly cried billy, as something came crashing through the branches. the next moment one of the missing shells was rolled with great violence into the middle of the group of adventurers. before they had recovered from their astonishment a strange sharp scream filled the forest. there was a derisive note in its tones. a strange fear filled the boys' hearts. their faces paled. "the island is haunted!" shouted ben. chapter viii. caught in the flames. "nonsense," said frank, sharply, although he had been considerably startled by the inexplicable occurrence himself, "you know there are no such things as ghosts, ben." "and if there were they wouldn't throw cocoanut shells at us," went on harry. "wall," said ben, stubbornly, "what else could it have been?" "a wild man," suggested billy; "perhaps a whole tribe of them." this was not a pleasant suggestion. frank had but a few cartridges left and the others had only their knives. these would be small protection against savages if any of the forest dwellers had really gone adrift on the floating island. it was not a cheerful party that sat down to another meal of oysters and fruit that evening. moreover the water supply of the little party was almost exhausted and without water they faced a terrible death. because of the unknown dangers which, it was felt, surrounded them it was decided to set a watch that night and keep the fire burning through the dark hours. harry and ben were to share the first watch and frank and billy agreed to take the second one. nothing had occurred when ben, at midnight, aroused frank and the young reporter and told them it was time to go on duty. the boys had been on sentry duty for perhaps an hour with nothing but the lapping of the waves against the shore of the floating island to break the deep stillness, when suddenly both were startled by a strange and terrible cry that rang through the forest. with beating hearts they leaped to their feet and strained their ears to see if they could ascertain the origin of the uncanny cry, but they heard nothing more. hardly had they resumed their places by the fire, however, before the wild screams rang out again. "it's some human being," cried frank. "they are being killed or something!" cried the affrighted billy barnes. by this time ben stubbs and harry had awakened and were sitting up with scared looks on their faces. "seems to come from near at hand," suggested ben. suddenly the yell sounded quite close, and at the same instant it was echoed by the boys as a dozen or more dark forms dashed out of the dark shades of the forest and rushed toward them. half unnerved with alarm at this sudden and inexplicable attack, frank fired point-blank into the onrush, and two of the dark forms fell. their comrades, with the same wild shrieks that had so alarmed the boys, instantly turned and fled, awakening the echoes of the woods with their terrifying clamor. "a good thing i killed those two," cried frank; "throw some wood on the fire, ben, and we'll see who or what it is that i've shot." in the bright blaze the adventurers bent over the two still forms that lay on the ground as they had fallen. "why, they're great apes!" exclaimed frank in amazement; "what monsters!" "howling monkeys, that's what they call 'em," declared ben, "i've heard of 'em. no wonder we were scared, though. did you ever hear such cries?" "i wonder why they attacked the camp?" asked billy. "i don't suppose it was an attack at all," said frank, "most likely they smelled the food and thought they'd come and help themselves to some broiled oysters." "i'll bet it was the monkeys that took our water and then threw the shells at us," cried harry. "i guess you are right, boy," said ben; "them monkeys are terrors for mischief." "i hope they don't take it into their heads to annoy us any more," said harry. "not likely," declared ben, "i guess the firing of the revolver and the sight of them two mates of theirs falling dead scared them out of two years' growth." ben's surmise was right. the adventurers passed the remainder of the night in peace. as soon as day broke over a sea unmarred by a single ripple, there was an eager scrutiny of the horizon by all the castaways, but to their bitter disappointment not a sign of the southern cross, or any other vessel, could be descried. "looks like we'll have to spend some more time on 'monkey island'," said ben with a shrug. "we can't spend much more time," said frank, grimly. "why not?" demanded ben. "what are we to do for water?" things did, indeed, look black. breakfast was eaten in comparative silence, and after the meal was concluded, at frank's suggestion, it was decided to explore the island for a spring that could be tapped for further water supply. the boys all admitted to themselves that the chance of finding one was remote, but they determined to try and locate one in any event. at any rate frank felt it would keep their minds off their troubles to have something to do. the best part of the morning was spent in the search and although they came across occasional driblets of water,--the remnants of springs started by the heavy rain that marked their first night on the island,--they found nothing that promised an available supply. at noon they sat down in the shade of a huge palm to rest and made a meal off the nuts that lay at its foot. the milk of these proved cool and refreshing and was drunk out of the shell after one end of it had been hacked off with frank's hunting knife. "well, we might as well make a start back for our camp," suggested frank, after some moments had passed in silence. "camp," repeated harry, bitterly, "that's a fine camp. why, there's nothing there but trees and sand and howling monkeys." nevertheless a start was made for the resting place of the previous night, the party trudging along the narrow beach in indian file. all at once ben, who was in the lead, stopped short. "look!" he exclaimed, pointing overhead. the boys followed his finger and gave a shout of astonishment. "smoke!" cried frank. "hurrah," cheered harry, "it's the southern cross." he waved his hat at the dark wreaths of vapor that were blowing across the island overhead. the smoke scudded across the sky like small fleecy clouds, but it momentarily grew thicker and blacker. "she's smoking up all right," laughed billy barnes, all his fears gone now that rescue seemed at hand. ben alone of the party seemed troubled. "i'm not so sure that that's steamer smoke," he said slowly. "why, what else can it be?" demanded frank. "i don't know,"--sniff,--"but it seems to me,"--sniff,--"that's a whole lot of smoke for a steamer to be making, and"--sniff--"i don't like the looks of it." "what else could make such smoke?" demanded harry. for reply ben asked what seemed a strange question. "did you put the fire out when we left the camp?" in an instant they all perceived without his speaking a word, what the sailor feared. the island was on fire! a few minutes later the smell of the burning trees and the crash as they fell, while the flames leaped through the brushwood beneath them, was clearly borne to them. they were marooned on a floating island, and the island was in flames. the dense smoke of the fire had by this time blotted out the sky and all they could see above them was a thick canopy of smoke. it rose in a huge pillar blotting out the sky and poisoning the air. "what are we to do?" gasped billy. "i don't see what we can do," was frank's reply, "our escape is cut off. we shall burn to death." indeed it seemed as if the boys were doomed to death in the flames. with incredible rapidity the fire, undoubtedly started by their carelessness in not extinguishing their camp fire, came leaping and roaring through the forest. suddenly out of the woods directly in front of them leaped a lithe spotted form, and without glancing to right or left, the creature shot into the sea. it swam quite a distance and then sank. "a jaguar," exclaimed ben; "a good thing it was too scared to attack us." "yes, i haven't got a cartridge left," said frank, gazing ruefully at his empty revolver. "i don't think that would do us much good if you had; we might as well die by a jaguar's teeth and claws as by being burned to death," said harry. the boys were now witnesses of a strange scene. driven by the heat of the fire scores of terrified animals passed them. there were small agoutis or wild pigs, monkeys, birds of various kinds,--including huge macaws and numerous snakes. the creatures paid not the least attention to the boys, but, crazed with fear, made for the sea. the birds alone soared off and doubtless the stronger winged of them reached land. "if we only had the golden eagle here," sighed frank. "hurrah," suddenly shouted ben, capering about, "hurrah, i've got a plan." for a minute or two the boys regarded him as one might an insane person, but as he went on to explain his plan they grasped at it as a last resort. two large tree trunks lay near to where they stood. they had fallen apparently in some tropical storm, so that their bulk rested on some smaller trees. it was as if they were on rollers. "we will lash those together with some withes and make a raft," exclaimed ben. "how are you going to get them into the water?" asked billy. "by the natural rollers that are underneath them," replied the sailor; "come, we have no time to lose if we are to escape." indeed they had not. the fire was now so close that they could feel its ardent breath. sparks were falling about them in red-hot showers and already some of the brush in their vicinity was beginning to smoke. soon it would burst into flame and then they were doomed. feverishly they worked and soon had the two trunks lashed together firmly with long "lianas" or creepers of tough fibre that grew in great profusion everywhere. the work of getting the trunks into the water was, thanks to the natural rollers, not so hard as might have been anticipated. ben and frank managed the placing of the rollers, which were carried in front of the logs as fast as its hinder end cleared some of them. in this manner their "raft," if such it could be called, was soon afloat. it seemed a terribly insecure contrivance with which to risk a voyage, but they had no choice. the whole island, except the spot in which they had worked, was now one raging furnace, and had their situation not been so critical, the party would have been compelled to admire the wild magnificence of the spectacle. great red tongues of flame shot up through the blanket of dark smoke, dying it crimson. occasionally there would be a dull crash as some huge forest monarch fell prostrate, or the dying scream of some creature overtaken by the flames rang out. "quick, onto the raft," shouted frank as the clumsy craft floated at last. it did not take the adventurers long to follow his directions. the heat from the fire was now intense and they lost no time in putting the two branches they had cut to use as paddles into action. it was hard work but they found to their delight that their raft moved when they dug into the water with their clumsy means of propulsion. "hurrah!" shouted billy as they began to glide slowly over the waves, "we are saved from the floating island." "yes, but for how long," exclaimed frank; "we have no provisions and no water. how long can we live without them?" "we must hope to be picked up," said harry. "that is our only hope," rejoined frank, "if we are not---" there was no need for him to finish the sentence, even had he been able to, for while he was still speaking a startling thing happened. the raft was about twenty feet from the shore, but despite the distance a dusky form that had rushed out of the wood with a wild howl, shot through the air and landed fairly upon it. [illustration: "with a wild howl, shot through the air."] with its menacing eyes of green, like balls of angry flame, dull yellow hide, catlike form, and twitching tail, the boys had no difficulty in recognizing it for what it was. a giant panther. there was no possibility of escape. as the creature growled menacingly the boys realized that they were practically without means of protection against this new enemy. as the panther, too, realized its position, it drew back on its haunches and, lashing its tail wickedly, prepared to spring. chapter ix. a queer accident. it was no time for words. almost before any of them realized just what had happened, the savage creature that had taken refuge from the flames on their frail craft, launched its yellow body at them in a great leap. but the brute miscalculated its spring this time. with a howl of dismay it shot beyond its mark and fell into the sea. "quick, boys, get your knives ready," shouted ben, "we've got a fighting chance now." hastily the boys, though they felt skeptical as to the effectiveness of these small weapons against such a formidable enemy, got out their hunting knives. but they were not destined to use them. the howl of dismay which the panther had uttered as it found itself plunged into the water was quickly changed to a shrill scream of terror from its huge throat. at the same instant a number of triangular fins dashed through the water toward it. "sharks!" shouted harry. attracted by the number of animals that had taken to the water to escape the fire the creatures had gathered in great numbers about the island and were devouring the fugitives right and left. fully a dozen of the monsters rushed at the panther which, formidable as it was on land, was, like most of the cat tribe, at a great disadvantage in the water. it could make no resistance but a few feeble snaps to the avalanche of sharks that rushed at it, and a few seconds after the onslaught the water was crimsoned with the blood of the panther and the boys were safe from that peril. but the sharks now offered almost as great a danger as had the land monster. made furious by the taste of so much food they cruised alongside the rickety raft gazing with their little eyes at its occupants till shudders ran through them. the boys tried to scare them away by flourishing the branches used as oars, but this, while it scared them at first, soon lost its effect on the sea-tigers, who seemed determined to keep alongside the raft, evidently hoping that sooner or later they would get a meal. all the afternoon the boys took turns paddling with their branches and by this means, and impelled also by one of the ocean currents that abound in this latitude, the smoking island gradually drew further and further away. but the sharks still cruised alongside and now and again one bolder than the others would turn partly on his back and nose up against the raft, showing his cruel, saw-like teeth and monstrous mouth as he did so. "i don't wonder they call them sea-tigers," said frank, "more terrible looking monsters i never saw." the tropic night soon closed and darkness shut down with great rapidity. far off the boys could see the red glare cast by the flaming island. "that's queer," exclaimed frank suddenly. he had been regarding the island intensely for some time. "what's queer?" demanded billy. "why, do you see that long wavering ray of light shooting up near the island," he cried, pointing in that direction, "what can it be?" the others looked and to their amazement, as soon as ben's eyes fell on the strange ray of white light, the old sailor began dancing a sort of jig to the imminent danger of his tumbling in among the sharks. "hurray! hurray!" he shouted, "douse my topsails and keel-haul my main-jibboom, if that ain't the best sight i've seen for a long time." "have you gone crazy?" asked harry. "not much, my boy," shouted the old tar, "that queer light--as you call it--yonder is a ship's searchlight. the southern cross like as not." "she must have seen the smoke from the burning island and sailed in that direction," exclaimed frank. "how can we attract their attention?" cried billy. "easy enough," said ben, pulling off his shirt, "this is a good shirt, but i'd rather have my life than a whole trunk full of shirts. now for some matches and we'll make a night signal." the matches were soon produced and the old sailor set fire to the garment. it flared up brightly and made a fine illumination, but as the flare died out there was nothing about the movement of the searchlight to indicate that the signal had been seen. "we must try again," said ben. it was harry's turn to sacrifice a shirt this time, and he lost no time in ripping it off. as frank prepared to light it, however, an unfortunate--or even disastrous--accident occurred. the waterproof box of matches slipped from his fingers in his excitement, and before any of them could recover it, it was overboard. the rush of a great body through the water at the same instant told them that one of the watchful sharks had swallowed it. "i wish they'd burn his insides out," cried billy. "everybody search their pockets for a match," commanded frank. a prolonged scrutiny resulted in yielding just one match. it came from ben's pocket. frank lit it with great care. for one terrible moment, as they all hung breathless over it, it seemed as if it was going out. it finally caught, however, and flared up bravely. "now the shirt," cried frank. it was thrust into his hands and he waved the blazing garment above his head till the flames streaked out in the night. this time a cheer went up from the castaways on the raft. their signal had been seen. at least so it appeared, for the searchlight, which had been sweeping about near the island, suddenly shot its long finger of light in their direction. as the vessel bearing it neared them a bright glow enveloped the figures on the raft, who were alternately hugging each other and shaking hands over the prospect of their speedy deliverance. a few minutes later all doubt was dissolved. the approaching vessel was the southern cross, and the adventurers were soon answering to excited hails from her bridge. to lower a boat and get them on board once more did not take long, and it was not till late that night that, the story of their perils having been told and retold at least twenty times, they managed to get to their old bunks. never had the mattresses seemed so soft or the sheets so comfortable as they did to the tired boys. their heads had hardly touched the pillows before they were off in dreamland--a region in which, on that night at least, fires, panthers and sharks raged in inextricable confusion. before they retired they heard from the lips of captain hazzard the puzzle their disappearance from the ship had proved. the southern cross, it appeared, on the day following her collision with the floating island, had cruised in the vicinity in the hope of finding some trace of the castaways. her search was kept up until hope had been about abandoned. the sight of the glare of the blazing island had, however, determined her commander to ascertain its cause, with the result that while her searchlight was centered on the strange phenomenon the boys' tiny fire signal had been seen by a lookout in the crow's nest and the ship at once headed for the little point of light. for his part the commander was much interested in hearing of the floating island. it cleared up what had been a great mystery, namely, the nature of the obstruction they had struck, and proved interesting from a scientific point of view. captain hazzard told the boys that these great tracts of land were, as ben had said, not uncommon off the mouth of the amazon, but that it was rarely one ever got so far out to sea. two weeks later, after an uneventful voyage through tropic waters, during which the boys had had the interesting experience of crossing the equator, and had been initiated by being ducked in a huge canvas pool full of salt water placed on the fore deck, the southern cross steamed into the harbor of monte video, where she was to meet her consort, the brutus, which vessel was to tow her down into the polar regions. a few interesting days were spent in monte video and the boys sent many letters home and captain hazzard forwarded his log books and data as obtained up to date. professor sandburr spent his time among the natives collecting memoranda about their habits while the boys roamed at their leisure about the city. they saw a bull fight, a spectacle that speedily disgusted them, and witnessed the driving into the stock-yards of a huge herd of cattle rounded up by wild and savage-looking gauchos on wiry ponies. one day, while they were walking through a back street leading to some handsome buildings, they heard terrible cries coming from a small hut in unmistakably american tones. "come on, let's see what is the matter?" shouted frank. followed by billy and harry, the lad ran toward the mud hut from which the cries had issued. as they neared it a terrible-looking figure dashed out. its white duck suit was streaming with red and the same color was daubed all over its face and head. "oh, boys, save me!" it cried as it ran towards the three lads. "why, it's professor sandburr!" exclaimed harry, gazing at the crimson-daubed figure; "whatever is the matter?" "oh-oh-oh-oh," howled the professor, dancing about, "it's a woman in that hut. she threw some stinging stuff all over me." "why, it's chile con-carne!" exclaimed frank, examining the red stuff that daubed the unfortunate professor from head to foot; "good gracious, what a scare you gave us; we thought you had been attacked with knives and terribly cut." there was a trough of water near by and to it the boys conducted the professor, who was half-blinded by the stinging spanish dish, which is a sort of pepper stew. it took a long time to clean him, during which quite a crowd gathered and laughed and jeered, but at last they had the luckless scientist looking more presentable. "now tell us what happened?" asked frank, as they started back toward the city in a hired "volante," or native carriage, that had been passing, by good luck, as they finished their cleaning process. "well, my dear boys, it's an outrage. i will see the mayor or the president about it, or whoever is in charge of those things in this land. i saw a fine looking specimen of a hopping sand-toad going into that house and i dashed in after it with my net extended. as soon as i rushed in i upset a sort of baby carriage that stood by the door. two children, who were in it, started howling in a terrible manner. i know a little spanish and i tried to explain, but before i could do so the mother threw a whole pot of that hot stuff over me and called me a kidnapper, a robber, a thief. upon my word i think i may be considered lucky that she didn't shoot me." "i think you may, indeed," agreed the boys, who could hardly keep from laughing at the comical sight the professor presented with his head cocked on one side and all daubed with the traces of his "hot bath." early the next day the brutus passed a steel hawser to the southern cross and the two vessels proceeded out of the harbor of monte video. "well, we're really off for the pole at last," exclaimed frank, as the shores grew dim behind them and the long ocean swell made itself felt. "yes," rejoined the professor, who was busy getting specimens of jelly-fish in a bucket he lowered overboard by a line. "i wonder what sort of creatures i can catch in the ice there. i don't care so much about the pole, but i do want to get a 'pollywoginisius polaris.'" "whatever is that?" asked frank. "it's a sort of large pollywog with fur on it like seal," replied the professor gravely. "a sort of fur overcoat," suggested billy, nudging frank mischievously. "exactly," said the professor gravely; "if you see one will you catch it for me?" "i certainly will," replied billy gravely. for several days the brutus and the vessel she was towing kept on down the coast. at last one morning the captain announced that they were off the coast of patagonia, where the famous giant tribes of aborigines and a kind of ostrich are to be found. the professor was greatly excited at this and begged to have the ships stopped and be allowed to go ashore. "i am afraid that will be impossible," rejoined captain hazzard; "we must get into the polar regions before the winter sets in, and if we delay we shall not be able to do so. no, we must keep on, i am afraid." the brutus was making good speed at the moment, and her tow was cutting obediently through the water after her. sail had been set on all the masts, as there was a favoring breeze. suddenly there came a jarring shock that threw everybody from their feet. the tow-line parted under the strain with a report like that of a gun. "we have struck something," shouted the captain. "a sunken wreck, probably," said the professor, who did not seem at all disturbed. "is there any danger?" asked billy with rather a white face. "we cannot tell yet till the ship has been examined," replied the captain. he gave orders to sound the well and sent some men forward to examine the vessel's bow. soon the ship's carpenter and ben stubbs came hurrying aft with scared faces. "what is it?" demanded the captain, "are we seriously damaged?" "we have sprung a leak forward and the water is pouring in," was the alarming reply. chapter x. the professor is kidnapped. the faces of all grew grave. a leak at sea is a serious menace. the point at which the water was entering the southern cross was soon found to be through a sprained plank a little below the water line. captain hazzard ordered canvas weighted and dropped overboard around the leak so that the pressure of water would hold it there. the carpenter's gang then set to work to calk the hole temporarily. in the meantime the brutus had put back, blowing her whistle inquiringly. "send them a wireless message telling them what has happened," the commander ordered frank, who hastened to obey. the captain of the brutus ordered out his boat as soon as frank's message had been conveyed to him and came aboard the southern cross. he agreed, after a consultation with captain hazzard, that it would be necessary to put in somewhere to refit. "we are now off the mouth of the santa cruz river in patagonia," said captain barrington, "it is a good place to lie to. i was there once on a passenger steamer that met with an accident. we can shift the cargo to the stern till we have raised the bow of the southern cross, and then we can patch up her prow easily," he said. all agreed that this was a good plan. there was only one objection, and that was the so-called giants of patagonia, who are hostile to all strangers. in view of the large force of men on board the two ships, however, and the numerous weapons carried, it was agreed that there was not much to be feared from the patagonians. the broken steel hawser was at once detached and a new one put in place and the two vessels headed for the shore, about one hundred and fifty miles distant. they arrived off the mouth of the santa cruz river the next day and the boys, who had been up before dawn in their anxiety to get their first glimpse of "the land of the giants," were rather disappointed to see stretched before them a dreary looking coast with a few bare hills rising a short distance inland. there were no trees or grass ashore, but a sort of dull-colored bush grew abundantly. "i thought the giants lived in dense forests," said billy, disgustedly; "this place is a desert." "it was a fortunate accident though that brought us to this shore," said a voice behind them and professor sandburr's bony, spectacled face was thrust forward. "i would not have missed it for a great deal. i would like to capture a specimen of a patagonian alive and take him home in a cage. the patagonian dog-flea, too, i understand, is very curious." the boys all laughed at this, but the professor was perfectly serious. there is no doubt that he would have liked to have done so and caged up a patagonian where he could have studied him at his leisure. the brutus, with leadsmen stationed in her bows to test the depth of the water, proceeded cautiously up the river and finally came to anchor with her tow behind her about two miles from its mouth. the work of shifting some of the cargo of the southern cross to the stern so as to elevate her bow, was begun at once; as time was an important consideration. soon all was declared ready for the carpenters to start work and they were lowered on stages over the side and at once began to rectify the trouble. some of them worked from a boat secured to the bow. "do you think you can persuade the captain to let us go ashore with you?" asked frank of the professor, who was busy at once getting out all his paraphernalia in anticipation of going on what billy called "a bug hunt." "certainly," declared the scientist confidently, "come along. i should like above all things to have you boys go ashore with me. besides, i may teach you all to become faunal naturalists." the delighted boys followed the old man to captain hazzard's cabin, but, to their disappointment, he forbade the expedition peremptorily. "the patagonians are dangerous savages," he said, "and i will not assume the responsibility of allowing you to risk your lives." nor did any persuasion of which the boys or the professor could make have any effect in causing the commander to change his mind. he was firm as adamant and reluctantly the boys made their way forward and watched the carpenters fix the leak, and when that palled they were compelled to fall back on fishing for an amusement. the professor joined ardently in this sport despite his disappointment at not being allowed to go ashore. he managed to fix up a net attached to an iron ring with which he scooped up all kinds of queer fish out of the river, many of which were so ugly as to be repulsive to the boys. but the professor seemed to be delighted with them all. "ah, there, my beautiful 'piscatorius animata catfisio,'" he would say, as he seized a struggling sea monster with a firm grip and plunged it into one of his tin tanks. "i'll dissect you to-night. you are the finest specimen of your kind i have ever seen." the boys were suddenly interrupted in their fishing by blood-curdling yells from the old scientist. looking up in alarm they saw him dancing about on the deck holding his arm as if in great pain, while in front of him on the deck a queer-looking, flat fish with a long barbed tail flopped about, its great goggle eyes projecting hideously. frank ran forward to pick up the creature and throw it overboard, but as he grasped it he experienced a shock that knocked him head over heels. as he fell backward he collided with the professor and the two sprawled on the deck with the professor howling louder than ever. "no wonder they're hurt," shouted ben stubbs, coming up with a long boat-hook, "that's an electric ray." "an electric what?" asked billy. "an electric ray. they carry enough electricity in them to run a small lamp, and when they wish they can give you a powerful shock. they kill their prey that way." "ouch--," exclaimed the professor, who had by this time got up, "the ray nearly killed me. let me look at the brute so that i'll know one of them again." "why don't you put him in your collection?" asked frank with a smile, although his arm still hurt him where the electric ray had shocked it. "i want no such fish as that round me, sir," said the professor indignantly, and ordered ben to throw the creature overboard with his boat-hook. after supper that night the boys hung about the decks till bedtime. the hours passed slowly and they amused themselves by watching the moonlit shores and speculating on the whereabouts of the patagonians. suddenly billy seized frank's arm. "look," he exclaimed, pointing to a low ridge that stood out blackly in the moonlight. behind the low eminence frank could distinctly see a head cautiously moving about, seemingly reconnoitering the two ships. in a few seconds it vanished as the apparent spy retreated behind the ridge. "that must have been a patagonian," said frank. "just think, they are so near to us and we cannot go ashore," sighed the professor, who was one of the group. "i wonder if they have any dogs with them?" "i have a good mind to go, anyway," said the old man, suddenly, "i would like to write a paper on the habits of the patagonians and how can i if i don't study them at first hand?" "what if they chopped your head off?" asked billy. "they would not do that," rejoined the scientist, with a superior smile. "i have a friend who lived with them for a time and then wrote a book about them. according to him captain hazzard is wrong; they are not hostile, but, on the contrary, are friendly to white men." "then you think that captain hazzard doesn't know much about them?" asked billy. "i did not say that," replied the professor; "but he may be mistaken just like i was about the electric ray, which i thought was a south atlantic skate. just the same, i mean to find out for myself," he went on. "to-night when everyone is asleep but the man on duty, i am going to watch my opportunity and go ashore in the boat the carpenters left at the bow this afternoon. there are ropes hanging from the prow down which i can climb." soon after this the boys determined to turn in and, naturally, the professor's decision occupied a great deal of their conversation. "do you think we ought to tell the captain about what professor sandburr means to do?" asked frank of the others. "i don't think so," said billy. "he is much older than we are and doubtless he knows what he is about. at the same time, though, i think we should watch and if he gets into trouble should try and help him out of it." "very well, then we will all be out on deck at midnight," said frank, "and if we find that the professor is really serious in his intention to go ashore in the boat we will try and stop him. if he still persists we shall have to tell the captain." the others agreed that the course that frank recommended was the best one, and they all decided to adopt his plan. but the boys were heavy sleepers and besides were tired out when they sought their bunks, so that when frank, who was the first to wake, opened his eyes it was past one in the morning. with a start the boy jumped out of bed and hastily called the others. "we may not be too late yet," he said, as he hastily slipped into trousers, shirt and slippers. but the boys were too late. when they reached the bow they could see by peering over that the boat had gone and that the professor had penetrated alone into the country of the patagonians. suddenly there came a shot from the shore and a loud cry of: "help!" "it's the professor!" exclaimed frank; "he's in serious trouble this time." chapter xi. a battle in the air. to raise an alarm throughout the ship was the work of a few minutes and the watchman, whose carelessness had allowed the professor to slip away unnoticed, aroused the indignation of captain hazzard, who blamed him bitterly for his oversight. several shots followed the one the boys had heard and more cries, but they grew rapidly fainter and at the same time the sound of horses galloping away in the distance was heard. "they have carried him off," cried captain hazzard. "can we not chase them and rescue him?" asked billy, "we've got plenty of men and arms." "that would be of little use to us," was the reply, "the patagonians are mounted and by this time they have got such a start on us that we could never hope to catch up to them on foot." "not on foot," put in frank quietly, "but there is another way." "what do you mean, boy?" "that we can assemble the golden eagle in a couple of hours if you will give us the men to help." captain hazzard thought a minute. "it seems to be the only chance," he said at last, "but i don't know that i ought to let you assume such responsibility." "we will be in no greater danger than the professor is; much less, in fact," urged frank. "please let us go. if we can save his life it is worth running the risk." "perhaps you are right, my boy," said captain hazzard at length, "at any rate, promise me to run no unnecessary danger." the promise was readily given and with a cheer the men set to work to hoist the cases containing the sections of the aeroplane over the side and row them ashore. the work was carried on under the glare of the searchlights of the two ships. in two hours' time the golden eagle was ready for an engine test which showed her machinery to be in perfectly good trim. "she is fit for the flight of her life," declared frank, as he stopped the engine. "is everything ready?" asked captain hazzard. "yes," was the reply, "except for two canteens of water, some condensed soup tablets and two tins of biscuit." "you have your weapons?" "i have sent to the ship for two 'express' rifles, each carrying a heavy charge and explosive bullets. in addition we have our revolvers and some dynamite bombs--the ones that were designed to be used in blasting polar ice," said frank. "one moment," said captain hazzard. he turned and hailed the ship: "bring over six of the naval rockets from the armory!" he ordered. "if you should need help," he said, in explanation of his order, "send up a rocket. they are made so that they are visible by day as well as night. in the daylight their explosion produces a dense cloud of black smoke visible at several miles. they also make a terrific report that is audible for a long distance." the same boat that brought the boys' weapons carried the rockets and their provisions and at about four a. m. they were ready for their dash through the air. at the last minute it was decided to take billy barnes along as he knew something about handling an aeroplane and in a pinch could make himself useful. "good-bye and good luck," said captain hazzard fervently as the engine was once more started, with a roar like the discharge of a battery of gatling guns. from the exhausts blue flames shot out and the air was filled with the pungent odor of exploding gasolene. with a wave of the hand and amid a cheer that seemed to rend the sky the golden eagle shot forward as frank set the starting lever and rushed along over the level plane like a thing of life. after a short run she rose skyward in a long level sweep, just as the daylight began to show in a faint glow in the east. it rapidly grew lighter as the boys rose and as they attained a height of 1,500 feet and flew forward at sixty miles an hour above the vast level tract of gravelly desert, by looking backward they could see the forms of the two ships, like tiny toys, far behind and below them. on and on they flew, without seeing a trace of the professor or the band that had undoubtedly made him prisoner. "we must have overshot the mark," said frank, as he set a lever so as to swing the aeroplane round. "we shall have to fly in circles till we can locate the spot where the patagonians have taken him." they flew in this manner for some time, sometimes above rugged broken land with great sun-baked clefts in it, and sometimes above level plains overgrown with the same dull colored brush they had noticed fringing the coast. suddenly billy called attention to a strange thing. all about them were circling the forms of huge birds. some of them measured fully ten feet from wing tip to wing tip. they had bald, evil-looking heads and huge, hooked beaks. "they are south american condors, the largest birds in existence," cried harry, as the monstrous fowls, of which fully a hundred were now circling about the invaders of their realm, seemed to grow bolder and closed in about the aeroplane. "they mean to attack us," cried frank, suddenly. [illustration: "they mean to attack us."] as he spoke one immense condor drove full at him, its evil head outstretched as if it meant to tear him with its hooked beak. the boy struck at it with one arm while he controlled the aeroplane with the other and the monstrous bird seemed nonplussed for a moment. with a scream of rage it rejoined its mates and they continued to circle about the aeroplane, every minute growing, it seemed, more numerous and bold. "we shall have to fire at them," cried frank at last. "if they keep on increasing in numbers they may attack us all at once and wreck our airship." hastily harry and billy unslung their heavy "express" rifles and began firing. ordinarily it is no easy task to hit a bird on the wing with a rifle, but so large a target did the huge bodies present that four fell at the first volley. as they dropped some of their cannibal companions fell on them and tore them to ribbons in midair. it was a horrible sight, but the boys had little time to observe it. their attention was now fully occupied with beating off the infuriated mates of the dead birds, who beat the air about the aeroplane with their huge wings until the air-storm created threatened to overbalance it. again and again the boys fired, but failed to hit any more of the birds, although feathers flew from some of the great bodies as the bullets whizzed past them. all at once the condors seemed to come to a decision unanimously. uttering their harsh, screaming cries they rushed at the aeroplane, tearing and snapping with beak and claws. the machine yawed under their attack till it seemed it must turn over. still, so far, frank managed to keep it on an even keel. "bang! bang!" cracked the rifles again and again, but the loud angry cries of the birds almost drowned the sharp sound of the artillery. it was a battle in the clouds between a man-made bird and nature's fliers. suddenly frank gave a shout. "the dynamite bombs!" swiftly and cautiously harry got one of the deadly explosives ready. they were provided with a cap that set them off when they encountered any solid substance, as, for instance, when they struck the earth, but a small, mechanical contrivance enabled them to be adjusted also so that they could be exploded in midair. "isn't there danger of upsetting the aeroplane?" gasped billy, as he saw the preparations. "we'll have to chance that," was harry's brisk response, "the birds are too much for us." as he spoke he leaned out from the chassis and hurled the bomb high in the air. as he cast it out there was a slight click as the automatic exploder set itself. "hold tight," shouted frank, setting the sinking planes. the aeroplane rushed downward like a stone. suddenly a terrific roar filled the air and the boys felt as if their ear drums would be fractured. the aeroplane swayed dizzily and frank worked desperately at his levers and adjusters. for one terrible moment it seemed that the golden eagle was doomed to destruction, but the brave craft righted herself and soared on. the bomb had done its work. of the huge flock of condors that had attacked the golden eagle only a bare dozen or so remained. the rest had been killed or wounded by the bomb. the survivors were far too terrified to think of pursuing the boys and their craft further. "thank goodness we have escaped that peril," exclaimed harry, as they sailed onward through the air; "who would ever have thought that such birds would have attacked an aeroplane." "they frequently, so naturalists say, carry off babies and small animals to their rocky nests," was frank's response, "and birds as bold as that i suppose resented the appearance of what seemed another and larger bird in their realm." for an hour more the aeroplane soared and wheeled above the baking hot plains intersected by their deep gullies, but without result. the boys with sinking hearts were beginning to conclude that the professor had been carried off and hidden beyond hope of recovery, when harry, who had been peering ahead through the glasses, indicated a distant spot behind a ridge with much excitement. "i can see a horse tethered there," he cried. the aeroplane was at once shot off in that direction and soon all doubt that they were in the vicinity of a band of patagonians vanished. as the air craft rushed forward several tethered horses became visible and a column of smoke was seen rising from a deep gully behind the ridge. no doubt the patagonians thought themselves well hid. so secure did they feel, seemingly, that not even a sentry was visible. "do you think they are the same band that kidnapped the professor?" asked billy. "there's not much doubt of it," said frank. "at any rate we shall soon see," concluded harry, as the aeroplane shot directly above the encampment of the giant patagonians. gazing downward the boys could see one of the savages, a huge figure more than six feet tall, in a feather mantle and armed with a formidable looking spear, pacing up and down, as if he were a chief of some kind. this belief was confirmed when one of the other tribesmen approached the man in the long cloak and addressed something to him with a low obeisance. frank had by this time put the muffler in operation and throttled down the engine so that the aeroplane swung in lazy circles above the patagonians, entirely unnoticed by them. while they gazed the boys saw a figure led from a rude tent by several of the patagonians, of whom there seemed to be two or three hundred in the camp. instantly a loud yelling went up and several of the natives began a sort of dance, shaking their spears menacingly and wrapping their feather cloaks tightly about their tall figures. "it's the professor!" shouted frank, indicating the captive who had been taken from the tent. "they are going to burn him alive!" shouted harry in a voice of horror the next moment, pointing to the fire. indeed, it seemed so. the patagonians began piling fresh bundles of wood on their fire, the smoke of which the boys had seen from far off. their savage yells and cries filled the air. chapter xii. adrift! six of the huge warriors picked up the unfortunate professor, who was bound hand and foot, and were preparing to carry him toward the fire when there came a startling interruption to their plans. with a roar as if the desolate mountains about them were toppling about their ears one of the dynamite bombs carried by the boys was dropped and exploded a short distance from the camp. a huge hole was torn in the earth and a great cloud of dust arose. shrieks and cries filled the air and, although none of them was hurt, the patagonians rushed about like ants when some one has stirred up their nests. suddenly one of them happened to look upwards and gave a wild yell. instantly the tribesmen, without waiting to pick up any of their possessions, fled for their horses and mounting them rode out of sight without daring to look round. to accelerate their progress the boys sent another dynamite bomb and two rockets after them, and then descended to pick up the professor who, bound as he was, had been left on the ground and was quite as much in the dark as to what he owed his escape to as the indians were. "oh, boys!" he exclaimed, as the machine glided to earth and the boys stepped out, "you were just in time. i really believe they meant to make soup out of me. they were worse than the electric ray, a great deal. oh, dear, i wish i had obeyed captain hazzard, but i wanted to get a specimen of a patagonian dog-flea. they are very rare." "did you get one?" asked frank, laughing in spite of himself at the woe-begone figure of the professor, who, his bonds having been cut, now stood upright with his spectacles perched crookedly on his nose. "i did not," moaned the man of science, who seemed more grieved over his failure to collect the rare specimen than he did over his own narrow escape, "there is every other kind of flea around here, though, i found that out while i was in the tent." "come, we had better be going," said frank at length, after they had explored the camp and picked up some fine feather robes and curious weapons which the patagonians had left behind them in their hurry to escape. "the patagonians might take it into their heads to come back and attack us and then we should be in a serious fix." all agreed that it was wise not to linger too long in the camp and so a few minutes later the golden eagle was sent into the air again, this time with an added passenger. "dear me, this is very remarkable," said the professor, "quite like flying. i feel like a bird," and he flapped his long arms till the boys had to laugh once more at the comical man of learning. as they flew along the professor explained to them that after he had taken the boat he had heard a dog barking ashore, and being confident that the patagonians were friendly people and that it was a patagonian dog he heard, he determined to do some exploring in search of the patagonian dog-flea. he had only crawled a few steps from the river bank, however, when he felt himself seized and carried swiftly away. it was then that he had fired the shot the boys heard. later he had managed to break loose and then had discharged his revolver some more, without hitting anybody, however. the patagonians had then bound him and tied him to the back of a horse and rapidly borne him into the interior. they might not have meant any harm to him at first, he thought, but when they found him examining a dog with great care they were convinced the simple-minded old man was a witch doctor and at once sentenced him to be burned to death. "how about your friend that said that the patagonians were a friendly race?" asked billy, as the professor concluded his narrative. "i shall write a book exposing his book," said the professor, with great dignity. nothing more occurred till, as they drew near the ships, frank waved his handkerchief and the others fired their revolvers in token of the fact that they had been successful in their quest. in reply to these joyous signals the rapid-fire gun of the southern cross was fired and the air was so full of noise that any patagonians within twenty miles must have fled in terror. the professor, looking very shamefaced, was summoned to captain hazzard's cabin soon after he had arrived on board and put on clean garments. what was said to him nobody ever knew, but he looked downcast as one of his own bottled specimens when he left the cabin. by sundown, however, he had quite recovered his spirits and had to be rescued from the claws of a big lobster he had caught and which grabbed him by the toe as soon as he landed it on deck. in the meantime the aeroplane was "taken down" and packed up once more while the boys came in for warm congratulations on the successful outcome of their aerial dash to the rescue. captain hazzard himself sent for them and complimented them highly on their skill and courage. "i shall mention your achievement in the despatches i shall send north by the brutus," he said in conclusion to the happy boys. the damage to her bow being repaired, there was nothing more to keep the southern cross and her escort in the dreary river, and with no regrets at leaving such a barren, inhospitable country behind them, the pole-seekers weighed anchor early the next day. ever southward they forged till the weather began to grow chilly and warm garments were served out to the men from the storerooms of the southern cross. to the boys the cold was welcome, as it meant that they were approaching the goal of their journey. captain barrington doubled watches day and night now, for at any moment they might expect an encounter with a huge iceberg. in the antarctic these great ice mountains attain such bulk that they could crush the most powerful ship like an eggshell. it behooves all mariners venturing into those regions, therefore, to keep a most careful lookout for them. one day soon after dinner, while the boys were on the fore peak chatting with ben stubbs, the old bos'n suddenly elevated his nose, drew in a long breath and announced: "i smell ice." recollecting that ben had said that he "smelled land" on another memorable occasion, the boys checked their disposition to laugh, although the professor, who was trying to dissect a strange little fish he had caught the day before, ridiculed the idea. "ice being a substance consisting of frozen water and without odor, what you say is a contradiction in terms," he pronounced with much solemnity. "all right, professor," said ben, with a wink at the boys, "maybe ice ain't as easy to tell as an electric ray, but just the same i'm an old whaling man and i can smell ice as far as you can smell beefsteak frying." this was touching on the scientist's weak spot, for like many men of eminence, he was nevertheless fond of a good dinner and his alacrity in answering meal calls had become a joke on board. "you are arguing 'ad hominum,' my dear sir," spoke the professor with dignity. "ice and beefsteak have no affinity for one another, nor do they partake of the same qualities or analyses." whatever ben might have said to this crushing rejoinder was lost forever, for at this moment there was a great disturbance in the water a short distance from the ship. the boys saw a whale's huge dark form leap from the waves not forty feet from the bow and settle back with a crash that sent the water flying up in the air like a fountain. "whale ho!" shouted ben, greatly excited. "hullo," he exclaimed the next instant, "now you'll see some fighting worth seeing." as he spoke, a form dimly seen, so near to the surface was it, rushed through the water and crashed headlong into the whale. "what is it, another whale?" asked billy. "no, it's a monster sword-fish," cried ben, "and they are going to fight." the water grew crimson as the sword-fish plunged his cruel weapon into the great whale's side, but the monster itself, maddened by its wound, the next instant charged the sword-fish. its great jaws opened wide as it rushed at its smaller enemy, for which however, it was no match,--for the sword-fish doubled and swam rapidly away. the next instant it dived, and coming up rammed the whale with its sword once more. with a mighty leap the sea monster mounted clear of the water once more, the blood spouting from its wounds. but its strength was gone and it crashed heavily downward while it was in mid-spring. a warning shout from ben called the attention of everybody who had been watching the fight to a more imminent danger to the ship. the giant cetacean in falling to its death had struck the towing cable and snapped it under its huge bulk as if the stout hawser had been a pack thread. "we are adrift," shouted captain barrington, rushing forward with captain hazzard by his side. another cry of alarm mingled with his as he uttered it. "the iceberg!" cried ben. the old sailor pointed ahead and there, like a huge ghost drifting toward them, was a mighty structure of ice--the first berg the boys had ever seen. with its slow advance came another peril. the air grew deathly cold and a mist began to rise from the chilled sea. "signal the brutus!" shouted captain barrington, but the fires had been extinguished on the southern cross when she was taken in tow, and she had nothing to signal with but her rapid firing gun. this was fired again and again and soon through the mist there came back the low moan of the siren of the brutus. "they won't dare to put back after us in this," exclaimed captain barrington, as he stood on the bridge with the boys beside him, "we shall have to drift helplessly here till the iceberg passes or--" "until we are crushed," put in captain hazzard quietly, "wouldn't it be as well to have the boats made ready for lowering," he went on. "a good idea," agreed captain barrington. ben stubbs was summoned aft and told to give the necessary orders, and soon the men were at work clearing the life-boats in case things should come to the worst. the mist grew momentarily denser and the cold more intense, yet so critical was the situation that nobody thought of leaving the decks to don warmer clothing. the fog, caused by the immense berg chilling the warmer ocean currents, was now so thick that of the mighty berg itself they could perceive nothing. the knowledge that the peril was invisible did not make the minds of those on board the drifting vessel any the easier. "if only we had steam we could get out of the berg's path," said captain barrington, stamping his foot. "couldn't we hoist sail," suggested frank. "there is no wind. i wish there were," replied the captain, "then it would blow this mist away and we could at least see where we are driving to." in breathless silence and surrounded by the dense curtain of freezing mist the polar ship drifted helplessly on, those on board realizing that at any moment there might come the crash and disaster that would follow a collision with the monster berg. suddenly there came a shock that almost threw those on the bridge off their feet. hoarse cries and shouts sounded through the mist from the bow of the ship, which was no longer visible in the dense smother. above all the confused noises one rang out clear and terrible. "the berg has struck us. we are sinking!" was the terrible cry. chapter xiii. the ship of olaf the viking. "stop all that confusion," roared captain barrington through his megaphone, which he had snatched from its place on the bridge. silence instantly followed, only to be succeeded by a tearing and rending sound. the rigging of the foremast had caught in a projecting ridge of the berg and was being torn out. the ship trembled and shook as if a giant hand was crushing her, but so far her heavy timbers seemed to have stood the shock. presently the noises ceased and the air began to grow less chilly. "i believe we are free of the berg!" shouted captain hazzard. the rapid clearing away of the dense fog that had hung like a pall about the seemingly doomed ship confirmed this belief. by great good fortune the southern cross had been spared the fate of many ships that venture into the polar seas, and the boys gazing backward from the bridge could see the mighty berg, looking as huge as a cathedral, slowly increasing its distance from them, as it was borne along on the current. "hurrah, we are safe!" cried harry. "don't be too sure," warned captain barrington. "i hope we are, but the vessel will have to be examined before we can be certain. in any event our foremast and bowsprit are sad wrecks." the portions of the ship he referred to were, indeed, badly damaged. the shrouds supporting the foremast had been ripped out by the berg on the port or left hand side of the vessel, and her jibboom had been snapped off short where the berg struck her. two boats had, besides, been broken and the paint scraped off the polar ship's sides. "we look like a wreck," exclaimed billy. "we may think ourselves lucky we got off so easily," said captain barrington, "we have just gone through the deadliest peril an antarctic ship can undergo." the brutus now came gliding up, and after congratulations had been exchanged between the two ships, a new hawser was rigged and the southern cross was once more taken in tow. "i don't want any more encounters with icebergs," said billy, as the ship proceeded toward her goal once more. "nor i," spoke the others. "it's a pity this isn't at the north pole," said the professor, who was varnishing dried fish in the cabin, where this conversation took place. "why?" asked frank. "because, if it had been, there might have been a polar bear on that iceberg. i have read that sometimes they drift away on bergs that become detached and are sighted by steamers quite far south." "why,--do you want a polar bear skin," asked billy, "you can buy lots of them in new york." "oh, i don't care about the polar bear," said the professor quickly, "but the creatures have a kind of flea on them that is very rare." at the idea of hunting such great animals as polar bears for such insignificant things as fleas, the boys all had to laugh. the professor, who was very good-natured, was not at all offended. "small animals are sometimes quite as interesting as large ones," was all he said. the next day the rigging and bowsprit were refitted and further and further south steamed the brutus with the polar ship in tow. the fires of the southern cross had now been started and her acetylene gas plant started going as the heat and light were needed. icebergs were now frequently met with and the boys often remained on deck at night, snugly wrapped in furs, to watch the great masses of ice drift by. although they were as dangerous as ever, now that the ships were in cooler water the bergs did not create a fog as they did in the warmer region further north. by keeping a sharp lookout during the day and using the searchlights at night, captain barrington felt fairly confident of avoiding another encounter with an ice mountain. the damage the ship had sustained in her narrow escape from annihilation had proved quite difficult to repair, though before the vessel reached the sixtieth parallel it had been adjusted. "well, boys," announced captain hazzard one day at noon, "we are now not more than three hundred miles from the great barrier." "beyond which lies the polar mystery," exclaimed frank. captain hazzard glanced at him quickly. "yes, the polar mystery," he repeated, "perhaps now is as good a time as any for telling you boys the secret of this voyage. come to my cabin and i will tell you one of the objects of our expedition, which hitherto has been kept a secret from all but the officers." the excitement of the boys may be imagined as they followed the captain to his cabin and seated themselves on a seat arranged above the radiator. "it's the ship of olaf," whispered billy to harry. "of course," began captain hazzard, "the main object of this expedition is to plant the flag of the united states at 'furthest south,' even if not at the pole itself." "and to capture a south polar flea and a fur-bearing pollywog," put in the professor, who had included himself in the invitation to the boys. "exactly," smiled the captain, "but there is still another object scarcely of less importance than the ones that i and the professor," he added with a smile, "have enumerated." "you boys have all heard of the daring rovers who set out centuries ago in their ships to explore unknown oceans?" the boys nodded. "you mean the vikings?" asked frank. "yes," replied the captain. "well, some time ago a member of one of our great scientific bodies, while traveling in sweden, discovered in a remote village an odd legend concerning some sailors who claimed to have seen an old viking ship frozen in the ice near the great barrier. they were poor and superstitious whalemen and did not dare to disturb it, but they brought home the story." "and you think the ship is still there," broke in harry. "if they really saw such a thing there is every reason to suppose that it is," rejoined the lieutenant. "in the ice anything might be preserved almost indefinitely. providing the yarn of the whalemen is true, we now come to the most interesting part of the story. the scientist, who has a large acquaintance among librarians and custodians of old manuscripts in european libraries, happened to mention one night to a friend what he had heard in the little norwegian fishing village. his friend instantly surprised him by declaring that he had an idea what the ship was. "to make a long story short, he told him that years before, while examining some manuscripts in stockholm, he had read an account of a viking ship that in company with another had sailed for what must have been the extreme south pacific. one of the ships returned laden with ivory and gold, which latter may have been obtained from some mine whose location has long since been lost, but the other never came back. that missing ship was the ship of olaf the rover, and as her consort said, she had last been seen in the south pacific. the manuscript said that the returned rovers stated that they had become parted from the ship of olaf in a terrific gale amid much ice and great ice mountains. that must have meant the antarctic regions. this much they do know, that olaf's ship was stripped of her sails and helpless when they were compelled by stress of weather to abandon her. it is my theory and the theory of a man high in the government, who has authorized me to make this search, that the ship of olaf was caught in a polar current and that the story heard so many years after about the frozen ship in the ice is true." "then somewhere down there along the great barrier there is a viking ship full of ivory and gold, you believe?" asked frank. "i do," said the captain. "and the ice has preserved it all intact?" shouted billy. "if the ship is there at all she is undoubtedly preserved exactly as she entered the great ice," was the calm reply. "gosh!" was the only thing billy could think of to say. "sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?" gasped harry. "maybe some viking fleas got frozen up, too," chirped the professor, hopefully. "what a fine chance for me if we find the ship." "have you the latitude and longitude in which the whalers saw the frozen vessel?" asked frank. "i have them, yes," replied the captain, "and when the winter is over we will set out on a search for it. on our march toward the pole that will make only a slight detour." "was it for this that you wanted to have our aeroplane along?" asked frank, his eyes sparkling. "yes," was the reply, "in an airship you can skim high above the ice-fields and at a pace that would make an attempt to cover unknown tracts on foot ridiculous. if the viking ship is to be found it will have to be your achievement." captain hazzard was called out on deck at this juncture and the boys, once he was out of the room, joined in a war dance round the swinging cabin table. "boys, will you take me along when you go?" asked the professor anxiously. "if there is any chance of getting a viking flea i would like to. it would make my name famous. i could write a book about it, too." "but you've got a book to write already about the patagonians," objected frank. "bless me, so i have," exclaimed the absent-minded old man. "however that can wait. a viking flea would be a novelty indeed." at this moment loud tramplings on the deck overhead and shouts apprised them that something out of the ordinary must be occurring. just as they were about to emerge from the cabin the captain rushed in. he seemed much excited. "my fur coat, quick," he cried, seizing the garment from frank, who had snatched it from its peg and handed it to him. "what has happened?" asked frank. the words had hardly left his lips before there came a terrible grinding and jarring and the southern cross came to a standstill. her bow seemed to tilt up, while her stern sank, till the cabin floor attained quite a steep slope. "what can be the matter?" cried the professor, as he dashed out after the boys and the captain, the latter of whom had been much too excited to answer frank's question. chapter xiv. marooned on an ice floe. "we have struck a polar reef!" it was captain barrington who uttered these words after a brief examination. "do you think we will be able to get off?" frank asked ben stubbs, who with the boys and the rest of the crew was in the bow peering down at what appeared to be rocks beneath the vessel's bow, except that their glitter in the lanterns that were hung over the side showed that the ship was aground on solid ice. "hard to say," pronounced ben. "these polar reefs are bad things. they float along a little below the surface and many a ship that has struck them has had her bottom ripped off before you could say 'knife.'" "are we seriously damaged?" asked billy, anxiously gazing at the scared faces around him. "i hope not," said the old salt; "there is one thing in our favor and that is that we were being towed so that our bow was raised quite a bit, and instead of hitting the ice fair and square we glided up on top of it." another point in favor of the ship's getting off was that there had been no time to reshift the cargo, which, it will be recalled, had been stowed astern when her bow was sprung off patagonia, so that she rode "high by the head," as sailors say. so far as they could see in the darkness about twenty feet of her bow had driven up onto the polar reef. the brutus had stopped towing in response to the signal gun of the southern cross in time to prevent the towing-bitts being rooted out bodily or the cable parting. "there is nothing to be done till daylight," pronounced captain barrington, after an examination of the hold had shown that the vessel was perfectly dry. "the glass indicates fair weather and we'll have to stay where we are till we get daylight." little sleep was had by any aboard that night, and bright and early in the morning the boys, together with most of the crew, were on deck and peering over the bow. the day was a glorious one with the temperature at two below zero. the sun sparkled and flashed on the great ice-reef on which they had grounded, and which in places raised crested heads above the greenish surface of the sea. no water had been taken on in the night, to the great relief of the captain, and soon a string of gaudy signal flags were set which notified the brutus, lying at anchor about a mile away, to stand by. the hawser had been cast off over night and so the brutus was free to steam to any position her captain thought advisable. as soon as the signalling was completed he heaved anchor and stood for a point about half-a-mile to the leeward of the southern cross, where he came to anchor once more. breakfast, a solid meal as befitted the latitude in which they were, was hastily despatched and the boys bundled themselves up in polar clothes and hurried out on deck to see what was going forward. captain barrington, after a short consultation with captain hazzard, decided to order out boat parties to explore the length and depth of the ice-reef so that he could make plans to free his ship off her prison. the boys begged to be allowed to accompany one of the boat parties and so did the professor. their requests were finally acceded to by the two captains and they formed part of the crew of boat no. 3, in charge of ben stubbs. "wait a minute," shouted the professor, as, after the boat to which they were assigned lay ready for lowering, the boys clambered into her. "what's the matter?" demanded the boys. "i want to get my dredging bucket," exclaimed the man of science, "this is a fine opportunity for me to acquire some rare specimens." he dived into his cabin, the two ends of his woolen scarf flying out behind him like the tail of some queer bird. he reappeared in a second with the bucket, an ordinary galvanized affair, but with a wire-net bottom and a long rope attached, to allow of it being dragged along the depths of the sea. "all ready!" shouted frank, as the professor clambered into the boat. the "falls" rattled through the blocks and the boat struck the water with a splash, almost upsetting the professor, who was peering over the side through his thick spectacles as if he expected to see some queer polar fish at once. the crew swarmed down the "falls," and as ben gave the order, pulled away for the outer end of the reef, the station assigned to them. in accordance with their instructions when they arrived at the end of the reef, the crew, headed by ben stubbs, left the boat and tramping about on the slippery ice tried to ascertain its thickness and how far under water it extended. the boys soon tired of sitting idle in the boat and, as they had been forbidden to land on the treacherous ice of the reef, cast about for something to do. the professor soon provided a digression. "look there," he suddenly shouted, pointing at a black triangular shaped object that was moving about on the green water a short distance from the boat. "what can it be?" wondered billy. "some sort of rare fish, i don't doubt," rejoined the professor. "let's row out and see." the boys, nothing loath, shoved off, and as ben and the crew of the boat were far too busy sounding and poking about on the reef to notice them, they rowed off unobserved. the triangular object proved elusive, and after rowing some time, the boys found they had come quite a distance from the ship without getting much nearer to it. suddenly a great, shining black back curved itself out of the water and the boys saw that the sharp triangular thing was an immense dorsal fin attached to the back of a species of whale they had not so far seen, although they had sighted many varieties since entering the antarctic regions. "let's give it a shot," cried billy, and before any one could stop him, the young reporter fired at the creature. to their amazement, instead of diving, as do most whales when injured by a bullet or otherwise, the creature raised its blunt head and gazed at them out of a wicked little red eye. "what--what--what's the matter with him do you suppose?" gasped billy. as he spoke the whale began lashing the water with its tail till the white foam spread all about it, slightly flecked with red here and there, in token that billy's shot had struck it. "i'm afraid that we are in for serious trouble," suddenly said the professor. "why, you don't mean that the creature is bold enough to attack us?" gasped billy. "that's just what i do," exclaimed the professor, apprehensively. "the creature is a killer whale--an animal as ferocious as a shark and far more bold. i should have recognized what it was when i saw that sharp fin cruising about." "we must row back," shouted frank, and he and harry sprang to the oars. but they were too late. with a flashing whisk of its tail the ferocious killer whale dived, and when it came up its head was within twenty feet of the boat. "pull for that floe!" shouted the professor, pointing to a small island of ice floating about not far from them. it was their only chance of escape, and the boys gave way with a will. but pull as they would their enemy was faster than they. just as the nose of their boat scraped the floe the great "killer" charged. frank had just time to spring onto the floe and drag harry after him when the monster's head rammed the boat, splitting it to kindling wood with a terrible crackling sound. the stout timbers might as well have been a matchbox, so far as resistance to the terrific onslaught was concerned. billy jumped just as the boat collapsed under him, and gained the floe. but where was the professor? for an instant the terrible thought that he had perished flashed across the boys' minds, but just then a cry made them look round, and they saw the unfortunate scientist, blue with cold and dripping with icy water, come clambering over the other side of the little floe on which they stood. he had been hurled out of the boat when the whale charged and cast into the water. his teeth were chattering so that he could hardly speak, but he still had his bucket, and insisted on examining it to see if any creatures had been caught in it when he took his involuntary plunge. the whale, after its charge and the terrific bump with which it struck the boat, seemed to be stunned and lay quietly on the water a few feet from the floe, from which it had rebounded. "i'll bet he's got a headache," exclaimed billy. "headache or no headache, i don't see how we are going to get off this floe unless we can attract the attention of the ship, and we are drifting further away from it every minute," said frank, gravely. "let's fire our pistols," suggested billy. "i didn't bring mine," said frank. "nor i," said harry. "n-n-n-n-or i," chattered the shivering professor. "gee whitakers," shouted billy, "and to top the bad luck, i left mine in the boat. i laid it on a seat after i had fired at the whale." "b-b-b-b-boys, w-w-w-w-w-hat are we g-g-g-oing to d-d-d-do?" shivered the scientist. "shout," said frank; "come on, all together." they shouted at the tops of their voices, but in the clear polar air, rarified as it is, sound does not carry as well as in northern latitudes, and there was no response. all the time the floe, slowly revolving in the current like a floating bottle, was drifting further and further from the ships. the situation was serious, and, moreover, the scientist was evidently suffering acutely, although he made no complaint, not wishing to add to their anxieties. frank, however, insisted on their each shedding a garment for the professor's benefit, and although the scientist at first refused them, he finally consented to don the articles of dry apparel and seemed to be much comforted by their warmth. faster and faster the floe drifted, and they were now almost out of sight of the ships. the boys' faces, although they tried not to show their fear, grew very pale. there seemed to be no prospect of their being saved, and in the rigorous cold of that climate they knew they could not survive many hours without food or drink. suddenly frank, who had been gloomily watching the progress of the floe, gave a shout of surprise. "what's the matter?" said harry. "are we g-g-g-g-going d-d-d-d-down?" gasped the professor. chapter xv. dynamiting the reef. "no," shouted the boy, "not that, but i think i see a chance of our being saved!" "have they seen us from the ships?" asked billy. "no, but the floe has struck a different current and we are drifting back." "are you s-s-s-sure of t-t-t-this?" asked the professor. "certain," replied frank; "i have been watching the progress of other pieces of drifting ice and the current seems to take a distinct curve here and radiate backward toward the pole." "then we are saved--hurray!" shouted billy, dancing about on the slippery ice, and falling headlong, in his excitement, on the treacherous footing it afforded. "no use hollering till we are out of the woods," said frank; "the current may make another turn before we land near the ships." this checked the enthusiasm and the boys all fell to anxiously watching the course their floe was likely to pursue. "there's our whale," shouted billy, suddenly. "look what a smash on the nose he got." the great monster seemed to have recovered from its swoon and was now swimming in slow circles round the floe, eyeing the boys malevolently, but not offering to attack them. evidently it was wondering, in its own mind, what it had struck when it collided with the boat and the floe. the floe drifted onward, with the vessels' forms every moment growing larger to the boys' view. all at once a welcome sound rang out on the nipping polar air. "boom!" "they have missed us and are firing the gun," cried frank. "that's what," rejoined billy; "and we are going to get a terrible lecture when we get back on board, too." soon the floe, drifting steadily southward, by the strange freak of the antarctic current, came in view of the lookouts on the ships, who had been posted as soon as the boys were missed. the boats were at once despatched, and headed for the little ice island. the killer whale suddenly took it into his head, as the boats drew near, to try one more attack, but dr. watson gregg, the ship's surgeon, who stood in the bow of the first boat, saw the ferocious monster coming and, with three quick bullets from a magazine rifle, ended the great brute's career forever. his huge, black bulk, with its whitish belly and great jaws, floated on the surface for a few minutes, and the boys estimated his length at about thirty feet. "room enough there to have swallowed us all up," commented billy, as they gazed at the monster. "well, young men, what have you got to say for yourselves?" asked dr. gregg, as the boats drew alongside. the boys all looked shamefaced as they got into the boat, and two sailors assisted the half-frozen professor into it. they realized that they had been guilty of a breach of discipline in taking off the boat, and that, moreover, their disobedience had cost the expedition one of its valuable assets, for there was no hope of ever putting the smashed craft together again. on their return to the ship captain hazzard did not say much to them, but what he did say, as billy remarked afterward, "burned a hole in you." however, after a hearty dinner and a change of clothing, they all, even the professor--who seemed none the worse for the effects of his cold bath--cheered up a bit, more especially as captain barrington had announced that he had a plan for getting the ship off the reef. ben stubbs, who had, with his crew, been taken off the end of the obstruction by another boat, had announced that the depth of the obstruction did not seem to exceed twenty feet and its greatest width forty. where the ship's bow rested the breadth was about thirty feet and the depth not more than twenty. "my gracious," suddenly cried the professor as the boys came out from dinner; "i have suffered a terrible loss!" his face was so grave, and he seemed so worried, that the boys inquired sympathetically what it was that he had lost. "my bucket, my dredging bucket," wailed the scientist. "i was too cold to examine it thoroughly and i recollect now that i am sure it had some sort of sea-creatures in the bottom of it." "what has become of it?" asked frank, hardly able to keep from laughing. "i left it on the ice floe," wailed the professor. "i must have it." "well, if it's on the floe it will have to stay there," remarked frank. "there seems to be no way of getting it off." "i wonder if the captain wouldn't send out some men in a boat to look for it," hopefully exclaimed the collector, suddenly. "i shouldn't advise you to ask him," remarked ben stubbs, who just then came up, his arms laden with packages. "we've lost one boat through going after peppermints or specimints, or whatever you call 'em." "possibly, as you say, it would not be wise," agreed the professor; "never mind, perhaps i can catch a fur-bearing pollywog at the south pole." he seemed quite cheered up at this reflection and smiled happily at the thought of achieving his dream. "what have you got there, ben?" asked billy, pointing to the queer-looking boxes and packages the boatswain was carrying. "dynamite, battery boxes, and fuses," replied the old sailor. "whatever for?" asked the young reporter. "are you going to blow up the ship?" "not exactly, but we are going to blow her out." "dynamite the ice, you mean?" "that's it." "hurray, we'll soon be free of the ice-drift," cried harry, as they followed the boatswain forward and watched while he and several of the crew drilled holes in the ice and adjusted the dynamite on either side of the bow, at a distance of about two hundred feet from the ship in either direction. caps of fulminate of mercury were then affixed to the explosive and wires led from it to the battery boxes. "how will that free us?" asked the professor, who, like most men who devote all their time to one subject, was profoundly ignorant of anything but deep sea life and natural history. "it is the nature of dynamite to explode downwards," said frank. "when that charge is set off it will blow the ice away on either side and we shall float freely once more." "wonderful," exclaimed the professor. "i had better get my deep sea net. the explosion may kill some curious fish when it goes off." he hurried away to get the article in question, while the boys stood beside captain hazzard, who was about to explode the heavy charges. everybody was ordered to hold tight to something, and then the commander pushed the switch. "click!" a mighty roar followed and the ship seemed to rise in the air. but only for an instant. the next minute she settled back and those on board her broke out in a cheer as they realized that they once more floated free of the great ice-reef. the two ends of the obstruction having been blown off by the dynamite, the center portion was not buoyant enough to support the weight of the southern cross, and went scraping and bumping beneath her to bob up harmlessly to the surface at her stern. there was only one dissenting voice in the general enthusiasm that reigned on board at the thought that they were now able to proceed, and that was the professor's. he had been untangling a forgotten rare specimen of deep-sea lobster from his net, when the explosion came. in his agitation at the vessel's sudden heave and the unexpected noise, he had let his hand slip and the creature had seized him by the thumb. with a roar of pain the professor flung it from him and it flopped overboard. "hurray! we are off the reef, professor," shouted frank, running aft to help adjust a stern cable that had been thrown out when the southern cross grounded. "so i see, but i have lost a rare specimen of deep-sea lobster," groaned the professor, peering over the side of the ship to see if there were any hope of recapturing his prize. the anchor of the southern cross was dropped to hold her firmly while the steel hawser was reconnected with the brutus, and soon the coal ship and her consort were steaming steadily onward toward the barrier and the polar night. it grew steadily colder, but the boys did not mind the exhilarating atmosphere. they had games of ball and clambered about in the rigging, and kept in a fine glow in this way. the professor tried to join them at these games, but a tumble from halfway up the slippery main shrouds into a pile of snow, in which he was half smothered, soon checked his enthusiasm, and he thereafter devoted himself to classifying his specimens. great albatross now began to wheel round the vessel and the sailors caught some of the monster white and gray birds with long strings to which they had attached bits of bread and other bait. these were flung out into the air and the greedy creatures, making a dive for them, soon found themselves choking. they were then easily hauled to deck. captain hazzard, who disliked unnecessary cruelty, had given strict orders that the birds were to be released after their capture, and this was always done. the birds, however, seemed in no wise to profit by their lessons, for one bird, on the leg of which a copper ring had been placed to identify him, was captured again and again. the professor, particularly, was interested in this sport, and devised a sort of lasso with a wire ring in it, with which he designed to capture the largest of the great birds, a monster with a wing spread of fully ten feet. day after day he patiently coaxed the creature near with bits of bread, but the bird, with great cunning, came quite close to get the bread, but as soon as it saw the professor getting ready to swing his "lariat" it vanished. "ah-ha, my beauty, i'll get you yet," was all the professor said on these occasions. his patience was marvelous. one day, as the ships were plunging along through ice-strewn seas, not far to the eastward of the inhospitable and bleak shetland islands, the professor accomplished his wish, and nearly ended his own career simultaneously. the boys, who were amidships talking to ben stubbs, were apprised by a loud yell that something unusual was occurring aft, and ran quickly in that direction. there they saw a strange sight. the professor, with his feet hooked into a deck ring, was holding with both hands to the end of his lasso, while the albatross, which he had at last succeeded in looping, was flapping with all its might to escape. "help, help, he'll pull me overboard," screamed the professor. "let go the halliards!" roared ben, who saw that there was, indeed, danger of what the professor feared happening. "i can't let him escape. help me!" yelled the professor. "my feet are slipping!" he went on. "let go of the albatross," shouted the boys, who with ben were hastening up the ladder leading to the raised stern. it did not look, however, as if they could reach there before the professor was carried overboard like the tail of a kite, by the huge bird he had lassoed. suddenly, with a howl of terror, the professor, who never seemed to entertain the thought of letting go of the bird, was jerked from his foothold by a sudden lurch of the ship. ben stubbs was just in time. he sprang forward with wonderful agility and seized the professor's long legs just as the man of science was being pulled over the rail into space by the great albatross. "let go, dod gast you!" he bellowed, jerking the lasso out of the professor's hands, while the albatross went flapping off, a long streamer of rope hanging from its neck. "i've lost my albatross," wailed the scientist. "and blamed near lost yer own life," angrily exclaimed ben. "why didn't you let go?" "why, then i'd have lost the bird," said the professor, simply. "but i thank you for saving my life." "well, don't go doin' such fool things again," said ben, angrily, for he had feared that he would not be in time to save the bigoted scientist's life. the professor, however, was quite unruffled, and went about for some hours lamenting the loss of the huge antarctic bird. he consoled himself later, however, by shooting a beautiful little snow petrel, which he stuffed and mounted and presented to ben stubbs, who was quite mollified by the kind-hearted, if erratic, professor's gift. chapter xvi. a polar storm. early in february the voyagers, whose progress had been slow, found themselves in a veritable sea of "pancake ice." everywhere in a monotonous waste the vast white field seemed to stretch, with only a few albatrosses and petrels dotting its lonely surface. the thermometer dropped to ten below zero, and the boys found the snug warmth of the steam-heated cabins very desirable. there was a fair wind, and sail had been set on the southern cross to aid the work of towing her, and she was driving through the ice with a continuous rushing and crashing sound that at first was alarming, but to which her company soon grew accustomed. captain barrington announced at noon that day that they were then in lat. 60 degrees 28 minutes, and longitude 59 degrees 20 minutes west--bearings which showed that they would be, before many days had past, at the great barrier itself. excitement ran high among the boys at the receipt of this news, and frank and harry, who had fitted up a kind of work-room in the warmed hold, worked eagerly at their auto-sledge, which was expected to be of much use in transporting heavy loads to and from the ship to the winter quarters. before the two vessels reached the barrier, however, they were destined to encounter a spell of bad weather. one evening ben stubbs announced to the boys, who had been admiring a sunset of a beauty seldom seen in northern climes, that they were in for a hard blow, and before midnight his prediction was realized. frank awoke in his bunk, to find himself alternately standing, as it seemed, on his head and his feet. the southern cross was evidently laboring heavily and every plank and bolt in her was complaining. now and again a heavy sea would hit the rudder with a force that threatened to tear it from its pintles, solidly though it was contrived. somewhat alarmed, the boy aroused the others, and they hastened out on deck. as they emerged from the cabin the wind seemed to blow their breath back into their bodies and an icy hand seemed to grip them. it was a polar-storm that was raging in all its fury. as she rose on a wave, far ahead the boys could see the lights of the brutus. only for a second, however, for the next minute she would vanish in the trough of a huge comber, and then they could hear the strained towing cable "twang" like an overstretched piano wire. "will it hold?" that was the thought in the minds of all. in order to ease the hawser as much as possible, captain barrington, when he had noted the drop of the barometer, had ordered a "bridle," or rope attachment, placed on the end of the cable, so as to give it elasticity and lessen the effect of sudden strains, but the mountainous seas that pounded against the blunt bows of the southern cross were proving the stout steel strand to the uttermost. the boys tried to speak, but their words were torn from their lips by the wind and sent scattering. in the dim light they could see the forms of the sailors hurrying about the decks fastening additional lashings to the deck cargo and making things as snug as possible. suddenly there came a shout forward, followed by a loud "bang!" that made itself audible even above the roar of the hurricane. the cable had parted! considering the mountainous seas in which they were laboring and the violence of the storm, this was a terrifying piece of intelligence. it meant that at any moment they might drift helplessly into some mighty berg and be crushed like an egg-shell on its icy sides. captain barrington muffled up in polar clothes and oilskins, rushed past the boys like a ghost and ran forward shouting some order. the first and second officers followed him. presently the voice of the rapid-fire gun was heard, and the boys could see its sharp needles of white fire splitting the black night. a blue glare far away answered the explosions. it was the brutus signaling her consort. but that was all she could do. in the terrific sea that was running it would have been impossible to rig a fresh cable. the only thing for the two ships to do was to keep burning flare lights, in order that they might keep apart and not crash together in the tempest. "shall we go down, do you think?" asked billy, shivering in spite of himself, as a huge wave towered above them as if it would engulf the polar ship, and then as she rose gallantly to its threatening bulk, went careening away to leeward as if angry at being cheated of its prey. "we can only hope for the best," said a voice at his elbow. it was captain hazzard. "i have implicit confidence in captain barrington. he is a sailor of rare mettle." these remarks were shouted at the top of the two speakers' voices, but they sounded, in the midst of the turbulent uproar that raged about them, like the merest whispers. time and again it seemed that one of the great waves that came sweeping out of the darkness must engulf them, but so far the southern cross rode them like a race-horse, rising pluckily to them as they rushed at her. captain barrington and his officers were trying to get some headsail put on the vessel to keep her head up to the huge waves, but they were unwilling to imperil any one's life by ordering him out on the plunging bowsprit, that was now reared heavenward and again plunged downward as if pointing to the bottom of the sea. ben stubbs it was who finally volunteered to crawl out, and two other american seamen followed him. they succeeded, although in deadly peril half a dozen times, in getting the jib gaskets cast loose, and then crawled back half frozen to receive the warm plaudits of the officers and more substantial rewards later on. with her jib hoisted, the southern cross made better weather of it, but the seas were fast becoming more mountainous and threatening. the wind screeched through the rigging like a legion of demons. to add to the turmoil some casks got loose and went rolling and crashing about till they finally went overboard as a great wave toppled aboard. "we must see how the professor is getting on," said, or rather yelled, frank suddenly. he and the boys entered the cabin structure aft, which seemed warm and cosy with its light and warmth after the turmoil of the terrific battle of the elements outside. but a prolonged search failed to reveal any trace of the man of science. where could he be? a scrutiny of his cabin, even looking under the bunk, failed to reveal him. the boys began to fear he might have been swept overboard, when suddenly frank exclaimed: "perhaps he is in his laboratory." "hiding there?" asked billy. "no, i don't think so. the professor, whatever his oddities may be, is no coward," rejoined frank. "no, his search for the patagonian dog-flea proved that," agreed harry. frank lost no time in opening the trap-door in the floor of the main cabin, which led into what had formerly been the "valuables room" of the southern cross, but which had been fitted up now as a laboratory for the professor. "there's a light burning in it," announced frank, as he peered down. "oh, professor--professor sandburr, are you there?" he shouted the next moment. "what is it? is the ship going down?" came back from the depths in the voice of the professor. he seemed as calm as if it was a summer's day. "no, but she is having a terrible fight with the waves," replied the boy. "she has broken loose from the towing ship. the cable has snapped!" added harry. "is that so?" asked the professor calmly. "will you boys come down here for a minute? i want to see you." wondering what their eccentric friend could possibly wish in the way of conversation at such a time, the boys, not without some difficulty, clambered down the narrow ladder leading into the professor's den. they found him balancing himself on his long legs and trying to secure his bottles and jars, every one of which held some queer creature preserved in alcohol. the boys aided him in adjusting emergency racks arranged for such a purpose, but not before several bottles had broken and several strange-looking snakes and water animals, emitting a most evil smell, had fallen on the floor. these the professor carefully gathered up, though it was hard work to stand on the plunging floor, and placed in new receptacles. he seemed to place great value on them. "so," he said finally, "you think the ship may go down?" "we hope for the best, but anything may happen," rejoined frank; "we are in a serious position. practically helpless, we may drift into a berg at any moment." "in that case we would sink?" "almost to a certainty." "then i want you to do something for me. will you?" the boys, wondering greatly what could be coming next, agreed readily to the old scientist's wish. thereupon he drew out three slips of paper. he handed one to each of the boys. "i wrote these out when i first thought there was danger of our sinking," he said. the boys looked at the writing on their slips. they were all the same, and on each was inscribed: "the man who told me that the patagonians were a friendly race is a traitor to science. i, professor simeon sandburr, brand him a teller of untruths. for professor thomas tapper, who told me about the fur-bearing pollywog of the south polar seas, i have the warmest respect. i leave all my books, bottled fishes and reptiles to the smithsonian institute. my servant, james, may have my stuffed wogoliensuarious. my sister is to have my entire personal and real estate. this is my last will and testament. "simeon sandburr. "m.a.-f.r.g.s.-m.r.h.s.-etc., etc." "what are we to do with these papers?" asked frank, hardly able, even in the serious situation in which they then were, to keep from laughing. "one of you boys may escape, even if the ship does go down," said the professor, gravely: "if any of us should get back to civilization i want the world to know that the patagonians are not a friendly race, and that i died hoping to capture the fur-bearing pollywog of the south polar seas." at this moment a sudden shock hurled them headlong against the glass-filled shelves, smashing several bottles and releasing the slimy, finny contents, and sending them all in a heap on the floor. "we have struck something!" cried frank. "something terrible has happened!" shouted harry and billy. "we are sinking, boys," yelled the professor; "don't forget my last will and testament." chapter xvii. the great barrier. to rush on deck was the work of a few moments. if it was a scene of confusion the boys had left, the sight that now met their eyes was far more turbulent. "the boats! the boats! we are sinking!" "we are going down!" "the iceberg has sunk us!" these and a hundred other cries of terror filled the air, for the wind seemed to have died down, though the sea still ran high, and sounds were now more audible. off to the starboard side of the ship the boys perceived a mighty towering form, which they knew must be the iceberg they had encountered. the crew fought madly for the boats. suddenly a sharp voice rang out: "i'll shoot the first man that lays a hand on the boats!" it was captain barrington. he stood on the stern deck steadying himself against the rail. in his hands gleamed two revolvers. beside him stood captain hazzard, a look of stern determination on his face. ben stubbs and several other seamen, who had not lost their heads, were grouped behind them prepared to quell any onslaught on the boats. the members of the crew, who had become panic-stricken when the helpless ship encountered the iceberg, paused and looked shamefaced. "we've a right to save our lives," they muttered angrily. "and prove yourselves cowards," exclaimed captain barrington. "you ought to be ashamed to bear the names of american seamen! get forward, all of you, and let me see no more of this." the stern voice of their commander and his evident command of himself reassured the panic-stricken crew and they withdrew to the forecastle. their shame was the more keen when it was found that, while the southern cross had been severely bumped by the iceberg, her stout timbers had sustained no damage. by daybreak the sea had calmed down somewhat, and the wind had still further moderated. but the danger was by no means over till they could get in communication with the brutus. frank was set to work on the wireless and soon "raised" the towing ship, the captain of which was delighted to hear of his consort's safety. the position of the southern cross being ascertained, her bearings were wirelessed to the brutus, and she then cast anchor to await the arrival of the towing ship. as the line was once more made fast, having been spliced till it was as strong as new, the professor came up to the boys. he looked rather sheepish. "would you mind giving me back those papers i gave you last night," he said. "you mean the last will and testament?" frank could not help saying. "that's it. i have changed my mind. i will show up that patagonian fellow in a book." the professor, as he received the little slips of paper, scattered them into tiny bits and threw them overboard. "you are quite sure you have not been fooled also on the fur-bearing pollywog?" asked frank. "quite," replied the professor, solemnly. "professor tapper is one of our greatest savants." "but so was your friend who told you the patagonians were a friendly tribe," argued frank. "i am quite sure that professor tapper could not have been mistaken, however." "has professor tapper ever been in the south polar regions?" asked billy, seriously. "why, no," admitted the professor; "but he has proved that there must be a fur-bearing pollywog down here." "in what manner has he been able to prove it?" asked harry. "he has written three volumes about it. they are in the congressional library. then he contributed a prize-essay on it to the smithsonian institute, which has bound it up with my report on the canadian bull frog. he is a very learned man." "but the south polar pollywog is then only a theory?" "well, yes--so far," admitted the professor; "but it is reserved for me to gain the honor of positively proving the strange creature's existence." "and if there should be no such thing in existence?" asked frank. "then i shall write a book denouncing professor tapper," said the professor, with an air of finality, and turning away to examine the water through a pair of binoculars. on moved the ships and at last, early one day, captain barrington called the boys on deck and, with a wave of the hand, indicated a huge white cliff, or palisade, which rose abruptly from the green water and seemed to stretch to infinity in either direction. "the great barrier," he said, simply. "which will be our home for almost a year," added captain hazzard. the boys gazed in wonder at the mighty wall of snow and ice as it glittered in the sunlight. it was, indeed, a great barrier. at the point where they lay it rose to a height of 130 feet or more from the water, which was filled with great detached masses of ice. further on it seemed to sweep to even greater heights. this was the barrier at which lieutenant wilkes, on his unlucky expedition, had gazed. the mighty wall that shackleton and scott, the englishmen, had scaled and then fought their way to "furthest south" beyond. the names of many other explorers, french, english, danish, and german, rushed into the boys' minds as they gazed. were they destined to penetrate the great mysteries that lay beyond it? would their airship be successful in wresting forth the secret of the great white silence? "well?" said captain barrington, breaking the silence at length, with a smile; "pretty big proposition, eh?" the boys gazed up at him awe-struck. "we never dreamed it was anything like this," said frank. "i always pictured the great barrier as something more or less imaginary." "pretty solid bit of imagination, that ice-wall yonder," laughed captain hazzard. "how are we ever going to get on the top of it?" asked billy. "we must steam along to the westward till we find a spot where it shelves," was the reply. "then it is not as high as this all the way round the polar regions?" "no, in places it shelves down till to make a landing in boats is simple. we must look for one of those spots." "what is the nature of the country beyond?" asked frank, deeply interested. "ice and snow in great plateaus, with here and there monster glaciers," was the reply of captain hazzard. "in places, too, immense rocky cliffs tower up, seeming to bar all further progress into the mystery of the south pole." "mountains?" gasped billy. "yes, and even volcanoes. this has given rise to a supposition that at the pole itself there may be flaming mountains, the warmth of which would have caused an open polar sea to form." "nobody knows for certain, then?" asked frank. "no, nobody knows for certain," repeated captain hazzard, his eyes fixed on the great white wall. "perhaps we shall find out." "perhaps," echoed frank, quite carried away by the idea. "what is known about the location of the pole?" asked billy. "it is supposed to lie on an immensely high plateau, possibly 20,000 feet above sea level. shackleton got within a hundred miles of it he believes." "and then he had to turn back," added captain barrington. "yes; lack of provisions and the impossibility of traveling quickly after his manchurian ponies had died compelled him to leave the mystery unsolved. let us hope it remains for the american flag to be planted at the pole." "are there any animals or sea-creatures there, do you know?" inquired the professor, who had been an interested listener. "if there is an open polar sea there is no doubt that there is life in it," was the answer, with a smile; "but what form such creatures would assume we cannot tell." "perhaps hideous monsters?" suggested the imaginative billy. "more likely creatures like whales or seals," returned captain hazzard. "if there is such a thing as a creature with a south polar flea in its fur i would like to catch it," hopefully announced the scientist. "seals are covered with them," rejoined the officer. "pooh, those are just common seal-fleas," returned the professor. "i would like to find an insect that makes its home at the pole itself." "well, perhaps you will," was the rejoinder. "i hope so," said the professor. "it would be very interesting." all this time the two vessels were steaming slowly westward along the inhospitable barrier that seemed, as frank said, to have been erected by nature to keep intruders away from the south polar regions. as the professor concluded his last remark the lookout gave a sudden hail. "shipwrecked sailors!" "where away?" shouted captain barrington. "off to the starboard bow, sir," came back the hail. captain barrington raised his glasses and looked in the direction indicated. the boys, too, brought binoculars to bear. they were greatly excited to see what seemed to be four men standing up and waving their arms on a raft drifting at some distance away. "lower a boat," commanded captain barrington. the command was speedily complied with--in a few seconds one of the stanch lifeboats lay alongside. "do you boys want to go?" asked captain hazzard. "do we?" asked billy. "i should say." "all right, away with you." "can i go, too? i might get some specimens," asked the professor, eagerly. "yes, but don't try to catch any more killer whales," was the answer, which brought a general laugh. chapter xviii. the professor takes a cold bath. "give way, men!" shouted ben stubbs, who was in command of the boat; "them poor fellers must be perishin' of cold and hunger." the boat fairly flew through the water, skillfully avoiding, under ben's careful steering, the great floes of ice which were drifting about. the boys and the professor were in the bow, eagerly scanning the raft with the four black figures upon it. the castaways kept waving their arms in the most pitiable fashion. suddenly the professor exclaimed: "there's something queer about those men!" "you'd be queer, too, if you was drifting about the polar seas on an old raft," returned ben stubbs. all the men laughed at this and the professor said no more. but he scanned the "castaways" carefully, and so did the boys. as they drew nearer, the latter also began to observe that they were the funniest looking men they had ever seen. "they've got on long black coats with white waistcoats to their knees," cried billy. "so they have," exclaimed harry. "if it wasn't too ridiculous, you'd say they had on evening clothes." "they're not men at all," suddenly shouted the professor, with an air of triumph. "i thought i was not mistaken." "not men!" roared ben. "what are the poor critters, then--females?" "neither men nor women," was the astonishing reply. "they are penguins." all the men turned at this, and one of them, who had sailed in the polar regions before, announced, with a shout of laughter: "the doc is right. them's emperor penguins, sure enough--taking a joy-ride through the ice." the queer birds betrayed not the slightest excitement at the approach of the boat, but stood gazing solemnly at it, waving their little flippers,--somewhat like those of a seal, only feathered,--up and down in a rhythmic way. "they act like band leaders," was frank's remark. "better go back to the ship," said ben, much disgusted at the upshoot of the expedition, and somewhat chagrined, too, if the truth must be told, at the professor's triumph over him. "no, let us catch one," urged the professor. "i would like to see if it is possible to tame one." "yes, let's go up to them and see what they look like at close range," cried frank. "all right, if we don't waste too much time," agreed ben. "give way, men." they soon drew near the strange south polar birds who blinked solemnly at them as if to say: "and who may you be?" as they bobbed up and down on the piece of drift wood the boys had mistaken for a raft, the sight was so ludicrous that the boys burst into a hearty laugh. "hush," warned the professor, holding up his hand; "you may scare them." they were big birds of their kind, standing fully four feet, and it was not strange that from the ship they had been mistaken for shipwrecked men; indeed, it is not the first time such an incident has occurred in the south polar climes. "steady now, men," said the professor, bowing his lean form over the bow of the boat as they drew near to the penguins. "ah! my feathered beauties, if you will only stay there and not move, i will soon have one of you," he whispered to himself, as the boat,--the men rowing as silently as possible,--glided alongside. the birds made no sign of moving, and evidently had not the slightest fear of the strange beings, such as the newcomers must have seemed to them. instead, they seemed mildly curious and stretched their necks out inquiringly. "here, chick-chick-chicky," called the professor, by an odd inspiration, as if he were calling to the chickens in the barnyard at home. "here, chick-chick-chicky. pretty chick-chick-chicky." suddenly he made a grab for the nearest penguin, and at the same instant the boys gave a shout of dismay. as he seized it, the creature--affrighted when it felt the professor's bony arms about it,--had dived and the scientist, losing his balance, had followed it into the water. this might not have been so serious, but the other penguins, seeing the professor's plight, started to attack him, beating him back into the icy water every time he came to the surface. "ouch, you brute--oh, boys, help--o-o-o-h, this water is cold. get me out, somebody. scat, get away, you penguins." these were some of the cries uttered by the luckless professor, as he struggled to get to the inside of the boat. when they could, for laughing at the ludicrous plight, the men and the boys beat off the big penguins with the oars and hauled the professor into the boat. his nose was pecked badly and was of a ruddy hue from his misadventure. fortunately, one of the men had some stimulant with him and this was given to the professor to drink and the strong stuff quickly revived him. he sat up in the boat and talked with animation while the boat was being rowed back to the ship. "bless my soul, what an adventure," he puffed. "ouch, my poor nose. i thought the penguins would peck it off. boys, that penguin was as slippery as a greased pig and as fat as butter. oh, dear, what a misadventure, and i've ruined a good suit of clothes and broken a bottle of specimens i had in the pockets. never mind, i can catch some more." thus the professor rattled on, from time to time feeling his very prominent nose, apparently in some doubt as to whether he still retained the feature. "i guess you are cured of penguin hunting?" remarked frank. "who, i?" asked the professor, in mild surprise. "oh, no, my dear boy. i will get a penguin yet, even if i have to fight a regiment of them. i'll get one, never fear, and tame him to eat out of my hand." "i hope so, i'm sure," said frank, with a smile at the odd old man's enthusiasm. "hullo, what's that?" cried billy, suddenly pointing. "what?" chorused the boys. "why that creature off there on the ice flapping about,--it seems to be in distress." "there is certainly something the matter with it," agreed frank. what seemed to be a huge bird was struggling and flapping about on the floes at no great distance from them. "other birds are attacking it!" cried billy. it was so, indeed. numerous albatrosses and other large sea birds and gulls were hovering above the struggling creature, from time to time diving and pecking it. "what in the world can it be?" cried frank. "we might go and see, but the professor is wet and should get back to the ship," said ben. "oh, my dear sir, don't mind me," demurred that individual. "if i could have a little more of the stimulant--ah, thank you--as i was saying, i am never in a hurry to go anywhere when there is an interesting question of natural history to be solved." "very well, then," said ben, heading the boat about; "if you catch cold, don't blame me." "oh dear, no. i wouldn't think of such a thing," said the professor, his eyes eagerly fixed on the disturbance of the birds. "it's a big wounded albatross!" suddenly exclaimed billy, as the boat drew near to the object the other birds were attacking. "so it is," cried harry. "a monster, too," supplemented the professor. "it would be a great find for any collection." "perhaps we can catch it and stuff it," cried billy. "perhaps so; but we must hurry or the others will have pecked it to bits." the boat flew through the water, and soon they were near enough to drive the other birds away. the wounded albatross, however, did not rise, but lay flapping on the ice. "why, bless my soul, how very extraordinary!" cried the professor, forgetting his wet clothes and his chill in his excitement. "what is?" asked frank. "why something seems to be holding the bird down under water," was the answer. "it's a string!" suddenly cried ben, standing up in the stern of the boat. "a string?" echoed the professor. "sure enough," was the reply. and so it proved. the albatross was held down by a bit of string encircling its neck so tightly as to almost choke it, and which had become caked with ice till it was quite heavy. "i know that bird," shouted the professor, suddenly, as they drew alongside it. "you know it?" echoed the others, thinking the old man had taken leave of his senses. "yes, yes," cried the professor. "it's the one that nearly dragged me overboard. see whether the wire loop is still round its neck." "it sure is," exclaimed ben, as, disregarding the pecks of the big bird, he dragged it struggling into the boat and pinioned its wings. "well, this is a most extraordinary happening," smiled the professor, as happy as if he had been left a million dollars. "this will be most interesting to scientists and will make my name famous. 'the sandburr albatross, which flew many scores of miles with my lasso round its neck.' wonderful. poor creature. i suppose as it dipped into the waves for its food a thin film of ice formed on the cord till it grew too heavy for it to carry." "that's right," said ben, who had cut the lasso and released the creature from its hampering weight. "i'll bet this weighs ten or twelve pounds." he held out a huge chunk of ice for their inspection. "that's great weight for a bird to carry so many miles," said frank. "it is, indeed," said the professor, patting the bound albatross on the head. "that makes it all the more remarkable." "what are you going to do with the albatross, now that you have him?" inquired billy barnes. "i must make a cage for him out of packing cases, and perhaps we can tame him," said the professor. all agreed that this would be an interesting experiment, and the boat pulled back to the ship with one passenger more than she had left it with. as for the professor, he was in the seventh heaven of delight all the way back. he sat on a stern seat by the albatross, which was looking wildly about, and kept talking to it as if he thought it could understand him. "ah, my beauty, i'll astonish professor tapper with you when i get home," he said; "you are worthy to be ranked with the fur-bearing south polar pollywog. i will feed you till your feathers shine and you are the envied of all birds. i am the most fortunate man in the world." all hands enjoyed a hearty laugh as, on the return to the ship, their adventures were narrated. "the poor professor never seems to go out but what he gets into some pickle or other," laughed captain barrington, who was joined in his merriment by captain hazzard. "but, dear me," he went on, "where is the professor?" they ran out on deck and found the man of science seated in the boat, which had not yet been hauled up, as the vessels were not to weigh anchor till the next day,--the berth where they lay being a snug one. "why don't you come on board, professor?" asked captain hazzard, indicating the accommodation ladder, which had been lowered. "i-i'd like to, but i can't," responded the professor. "you can't? why, what on earth do you mean? you'll freeze to death down there," roared captain barrington. "i wish you'd send down a small stove," wailed the scientist. "a small stove; why, what do you want with that?" "why the fact is, i'm sozzen to the feet--i mean frozen to the seat, and if you can't send down a stove, send down another pair of trousers!" was the calm reply. when the perfect tempest of laughter at the poor professor's expense had subsided, he was hauled to the deck in the boat and handed a long coat. only till then would he consent to get up from the seat, an operation which was attended by a loud sound of ripping and tearing. "ha, ha, ha," roared captain hazzard. "first the professor nearly loses his life, and then he loses his trousers!" chapter xix. facing the polar night. after steaming for several hours the next day, the great barrier opened into a small bight with shelving shores, which seemed to promise an easy landing place. a boat party, including the professor and the boys, was organized and the pull to the shore begun, after the two ships had swung to anchor. the beach was a shelving one, formed of what seemed broken-off portions of volcanic rock. a short distance back from the shore there were several rocky plateaus, clear of snow, which seemed to offer a good site for pitching camp. from the height, too, the boys could see, at no great distance, stretched out on the snow, several dark forms that looked not unlike garden slugs at that distance. "what are they?" asked billy. "seals," replied the professor; "though of what variety i do not know, and it is impossible to tell at this distance." captain barrington and captain hazzard, after viewing the landing place and its surroundings, decided that a better spot could hardly be found, and the men were set to work at once marking out a site for the portable hut, which was to form the main eating and dwelling place, and the smaller structure in which the officers of the expedition were to make their homes. the work of setting up the main hut, which had double walls, the space between being filled with cork dust and felt, was soon accomplished, and it was then divided off into small rooms. in the center a big table was set up and at one end a huge stove was placed for heating and cooking. at the other end the acetylene gas-plant, for providing light during the antarctic night, was provided. a big porch provided means of entrance and egress. this porch was fitted with double doors to prevent any cold air or snow being driven into the house when it was opened. captain barrington and captain hazzard each had a small hut, another was shared by doctor gregg and the first officer, while the boys and the professor occupied still another. the engineer and ben stubbs were placed in charge of the main hut, in which the twelve men who were to be left behind after the brutus sailed north, were to find quarters. when everything had been fixed in position, a task that took more than a week, the work of unloading the provisions and supplies was begun. the cases which did not hold perishable goods, or ones likely to be affected by cold, were piled about the walls of the main hut as an additional protection against snow and cold. the glass jars of fruit and others of the supplies were stored inside the main hut, where they could be kept from freezing. the various scientific instruments of the expedition were stored in the huts occupied by captain barrington and captain hazzard. these huts, as well as the one occupied by the boys and professor sandburr, were all warmed by a system of hot-air pipes leading from the main stove in the hut. specially designed oil heaters were also provided. a short distance away the aeroplane shed or "hanger" was set up. the coal, wood, oil and fuel the expedition would need in its long sojourn were stored in a canvas and wood shelter some distance from the main camp, so as to avoid any danger of fire. when all was completed and big steel stays passed above the roofs of the huts to keep them in position, even in the wildest gale, a tall flag-pole, brought for the purpose, was set up and the stars and stripes hoisted. while all these preparations had been going on, the boys and the professor had made several hunting trips over the ice and snow in the neighborhood of the camp. some little distance back from the barrier they had been delighted to find two small lakes, connected by a narrow neck of water, which they promptly christened green lake. the water in these was warmish, and the professor said he had little doubt it was fed by volcanic springs. the lakes swarmed with seals, and the boys' first seal hunt was an experience they were not likely to forget. armed with light rifles, they and the professor set out for the seal grounds one morning on which the thermometer recorded seven degrees below zero. all wore their antarctic suits, however, and none felt the cold, severe as it was. as they neared the seal grounds the soft-eyed creatures raised their heads and regarded them with mild astonishment. a few of them dived into the waters of green lake, but the rest stood their ground. "there is one with a young one," shouted the professor, suddenly. "i must have it. i will tame it." he dashed upon the mother seal, who promptly raised herself up and struck the professor a violent blow with her fin. the professor was caught off his guard and, losing his footing, staggered back several steps. as he did so frank cried a note of warning. the steep icy bank above green lake was below the scientist's heel. before he had time to heed the boys' warning cry the professor, with a yell of amazement, slid backwards into the green pool, from which he emerged, blowing and puffing as if he had been a seal. luckily, the water was warm and he suffered no serious consequences, but thereafter he was much more careful. the boys could not bring themselves to kill the seals that seemed so gentle and helpless, but some of the men acted as butchers later on, for seal meat is a valuable ration in the antarctic. "wait till you lads encounter a leopard seal, or a sea elephant," said captain hazzard, when the boys confided their scruples to him. "sea leopards!" exclaimed frank. "sea elephants!" echoed harry. "yes, certainly," laughed the captain. "the creatures are well named, too. the sea leopard is as formidable as his namesake on land. the sea elephant is his big brother in size and ferocity." "i shall give them a wide berth," said the professor. "that killer whale was enough for me." "you will be wise, too," was the rejoinder, and the captain turned to busy himself with his books and papers, for this conversation occurred about noon in his hut. the next day there were good-byes to be said. the polar winter was near at hand, when the sea for miles beyond the barrier would freeze solid and it would have been foolhardy for the brutus, which had discharged all her coal but that necessary to steam north with, to have remained longer. she sailed early in the morning, bearing with her letters to their friends in the north, which the boys could not help thinking might be the last they would ever write them. unknown perils and adventures lay before them. how they would emerge from them they did not know. all experienced a feeling of sadness as the ship that had gallantly towed them into their polar berth lessened on the horizon, and then vanished altogether in the direction of the north. the southern cross alone remained now, but she was no longer their floating home, most of her stores and comforts having been removed to the shore. her boilers were emptied and piping disconnected in preparation for her sojourn in the ice. with so much to be done, however, the adventurers could not long feel melancholy, even though they knew their letters from home would not reach them till the arrival of the relief ship late in the next autumn. the first duty tackled by captain hazzard was to call all the members of the expedition into the main hut and give them a little talk on the dangers, difficulties and responsibilities that lay before them. the men cheered him to the echo when he had finished, and each set about the duties assigned to him. ben stubbs was ordered to set the watches for the nights and adjust any minor details that might occur to him. "i want to speak to you boys for a minute," said captain hazzard, as he left the hut and returned to his own. wondering what he could have to say to them the boys followed him. "as you boys know, we are not alone in our anxiety to reach the pole," he began. "there is another nation anxious to achieve the glory also. how much of our plans they have gained possession of, i do not know. no doubt, not as much as they would have in their possession if the jap had not been captured. i am pretty confident that they know nothing of the treasure ship, for instance. but it is probable that they will watch us, as they have some suspicion that we are after more than the pole itself, and have an ulterior object." "then you think that the japanese expedition has landed?" asked frank. "they must have, if they made any sort of time," replied captain hazzard. "our own progress down the coast was very slow, and they have probably established a camp already." "where?" "that, of course, i have no means of knowing," was the reply. "i suppose that they are somewhere to the west of us, however. what i wanted to impress on you, however, is that some time ago a big dirigible was purchased abroad, and it is believed that it was for the use of the japanese polar expedition, as it had means provided specially to warm the gas and prevent its condensation in extremely cold climates." the boys nodded, but did not interrupt. "it would be an easy matter for them to scout in such a ship and maybe discover our camp," said the captain. "for that reason i want to ask you boys to set an extra night watch of your own. nobody else need know anything about it. i feel that i can rely on you more than any of the other subordinates of the expedition, excepting ben stubbs, and he is too busy to do everything." the boys willingly agreed to keep out a watch for any airship that might appear, although privately they thought it was a bit of extra caution that was unnecessary. "i don't see why any one who could keep out of the cold at night, would want to go scooting around in an airship in the dark for," said billy, when they were all seated in their own hut. "captain hazzard knows best," said frank, shortly. "you and harry had better take the first watch tonight, and i and--" he stopped, puzzled. who was to take the other watch with him? after some reflection they decided on asking the captain if a colored man, who acted as cook, couldn't be placed on to be frank's companion. he was the only person they could think of whose duties would permit him to take the job, as his duties were only to cook for the officers, and were consequently light. moreover, he was a trustworthy man and not likely to gossip if he saw anything strange. captain hazzard readily gave his consent to the colored man, whose name was rastus redwing, being frank's companion on the night watch. "we can have our breakfast cooked by the other man," he said, "and then all rastus will have to do will be to prepare lunch and dinner and extra pay." but rastus, when the plan was broached to him, was by no means so willing. "wha' me tramp, tramp, tramp roun' in dat dar ice and snow all de night time?" he gasped. "laws a me massa frank, wha' kin' of man yo all tink dese yar darky am?" "it only means a few hours' more work, and you get double pay for it," said frank. "oh-ho, dat alters de circumference ob de question," said rastus, scratching his head, when this had been explained to him. "all right, massa frank, yo' count on me at twelve to-night fo' sho." "very well," said frank. "i shall--and see that you are there." "ah'll be dar, don' you nebbe fear fo' dat," chuckled the colored man. "huh-huh double pay and no brakfus' ter git. dat's what i calls livin'--yas, sah." as frank, well pleased at having adjusted the business of the night watches so easily, was striding over the snow-powdered rocks toward the boys' hut, he heard a sudden disturbance behind the main hut and loud cries of: "help! help!" the person who was uttering them seemed to be in great distress and was apparently in dire need of aid. "it's the professor," shouted frank, as the cries were repeated. "whatever can have happened to him now." as he spoke, the professor came dashing toward the camp, his arms were outstretched as if in entreaty, and his long legs going up and down like piston rods, at such speed was he running. "whatever is that caught to his coat tails?" exclaimed frank, as he saw that a large, heavy creature of some kind was clinging fast to the flying professor's garment. chapter xx. a mysterious light. "take him off,--take him off. if i were not running he'll bite me," shrieked the scientist as he sped along. "whatever is it?" shouted frank, regarding the strange sight with amazement. "it's a sea-leopard. ouch!--he bit me then. shoot him or something," screamed the professor, scooting round in circles like a professional runner; for he knew that if he stopped the creature would surely nip him hard. frank hastily ran into the hut for his rifle and returned in a moment followed by the others. half the occupants of the camp were out by this time to watch the outcome of the professor's quandary. frank raised his rifle and took careful aim--or as careful aim as he could with the professor rushing along at such a pace, but even as the rifle cracked the professor tripped on a snow hummock and down he came. the yell he set up echoed back from the naked, rocky crags that towered at the back of the camp. "don't holler so, the creature's dead," cried frank, as he and the boys came running up to where the recumbent professor lay howling in the snow. "oh, dear, i do seem to have the worst luck," moaned the scientist. "first, i'm nearly drowned by a killer whale, then i'm almost pollowed by a swenguin--no, i mean swallowed by a penguin, and now a sea leopard attacks me." as he spoke the professor got to his feet and the dead sea-leopard, as he called it, fell over on the snow. it was a ponderous creature, much like a seal, but with huge tusks and a savage expression, even in death. it was about five feet in length. "what made it tackle you?" asked harry. "i was down by the beach collecting some curious specimens of polar sea-slugs, when i felt a tug at my coat-tails," said the scientist. "i looked round and saw this creature glaring at me." "why didn't you shoot at it?" asked billy, noting the outline of the professor's revolver under his coattail. "i had placed a specimen of antarctic star-moss in the barrel of my revolver for safe-keeping, and didn't wish to disturb it," explained the professor; "so i thought the best thing to do under the circumstances was to run. i never dreamed the creature would cling on." "well it did, and like a bull-dog, too," said billy. "we'll have to be careful and not get snarled up with any sea-leopards," said harry, who had been examining the dead animal. "look at the monster's tusks." "yes, he could make a fine meal off any of you boys," remarked the professor. suddenly he fell on his knees beside the sea-leopard and began examining it carefully. "what in the world are you doing, now?" asked frank. "i thought i might find a sea-leopard flea," was the response of the engrossed scientist. "ah," he exclaimed, making a sudden dart; "here is one, a beauty, too. ah, ha, my fine fellow, no use your wriggling, i have you fast." as he spoke he drew out one of the bottles of which receptacles his pockets seemed to be always full, and popped the sea-leopard flea into it. "that will be a very valuable addition to science," he said, looking round triumphantly. a few days after this incident the polar night began to shut down in grim earnest. sometimes for days the boys and the other adventurers would be confined to the huts. entertainments were organized and phonograph concerts given, and, when it was possible to venture out, hunting trips in a neighboring seal-ground were attempted. all these things helped to while away the monotony of the long darkness. in the meantime the commanders of the expedition laid their plans for the spring campaign, when the boys' aerial dash was to be made. on one of the milder nights, when frank and rastus were on watch, their first intimation that a strange and mysterious presence shared their lonely vigil was made manifest. it was rastus who called frank's attention to what was eventually to prove a perplexing puzzle to the pole hunters. as the colored man and frank were pacing outside the huts, keeping their watch, the negro suddenly gripped the boy's arm. "fo' de lub ob goodness, man, wha's dat?" he exclaimed, getting as pale as it is possible for a negro to become. "what?" demanded the boy. "i can't see anything." he stared about him in the gloom. "ain't nuffin ter see," rejoined rastus, in a low, awed tone. "but, hark!" the negro's ears, sharper than those of the white boy, had caught a sound that later became audible to frank. it was a most peculiar sound. coming from no one direction that one could indicate with certainty, it seemed to fill the whole air with a buzzing noise that beat almost painfully on the eardrums. while he gazed about, in perplexity at the phenomenon, frank suddenly descried something that almost startled him into an outcry. in the sky far to the westward and, seemingly, high in the air, there hovered a bright light! the next instant it vanished so suddenly as to leave some doubt in the boy's mind as to whether he had really seen it,--and, if he had, if it might not have been a star or some other heavenly body. he turned to his companion. "rastus, did you see a light in the sky there a second ago?" the boy pointed in the direction in which the mystery had appeared. "a light--?" repeated the puzzled negro, still scared at the buzzing sound, which had now ceased. "you done say a light--a reg'lar light, light?" "yes, yes," impatiently; "did you see one?" "no, sah, no, indeedy," was the indignant response; "ah don' see no lights." "that's strange," said frank, half to himself. "you are quite sure?" again the negro denied all knowledge of having beheld such a thing. "ef ah'd done seed anyfing lak dat," he declared; "ah'd hev bin skedaddlin' fer ther hut lak er chicken wif a hungry coon afta' it,--yas, sah." thoroughly convinced that his imagination had played him a trick, frank did not mention the incident, to his fellow adventurers and soon almost forgot it. it was recalled to his mind in a startling manner a few nights later. this time it was rastus that saw the strange light, and the yell that he set up alarmed the entire camp. "oh, lordy--oo-o-o-o-ow, lawdy!" he shrieked; "ah done see a ghosess way up in dar sky, massa frank!" frank seized the black by the arm, as he started to run. "what do you mean, you big black coward," he exclaimed. "what's the matter with you?" "oh, dat dar light," wailed rastus. "dat ain't no human light dat ain't; dat light's a way up in dar sky. it's a polar ghosess, dat's wha' dat is--de ghos' ob some dead sailor." "don't talk nonsense," sharply ordered frank, as the others, hastily bundled in their furs, came rushing out. "whatever is the matter?" demanded captain hazzard, gazing sternly at the trembling negro. "oh, massa hazzard, ah done see a ghos' light in dar sky," he yelled. "silence, sir, and stop that abominable noise. frank, what do you know about this?" "only that i really believe he saw such a thing, sir." "what, a light in the sky!" echoed captain barrington. "did you see it, too?" "not to-night, sir." "then it has appeared before?" "yes, it has," was the reply. "but you said nothing of it," exclaimed captain hazzard. "no; i thought it might be imagination. it appeared for such a short time that i could not be certain if it was not a trick of the imagination." "well, it begins to look as if rastus is telling the truth," was the officer's comment. "yas, sah, yas sah, i'se tellin' de truf, de whole truf, and everything but de truf," eagerly stuttered the negro. "where did you first see the light?" demanded captain hazzard. "right ober de grable (gable) ob de ruuf ob de big hut," was the reply. "that's about where i saw it," burst out frank. "was it stationary?" asked captain hazzard. "yas, sah; it's station was airy, dat's a fac'," grinned rastus. "it was high up in de air." "that's not what i mean, at all," snapped captain hazzard. "was it moving or standing still?" "oh, ah see what yo' mean, captain hazzard,--no, sir, der was no circumlocution ob de objec', in fac', sah, it was standin' still." "for how long did you watch it?" "wall, sah, it jes flash lak de wink ob an eye and den it was gone." "possibly it was some sort of antarctic lightning-bug," ventured the professor, who had been intently listening to the account of the strange light. "hardly likely," smiled captain barrington. "tell us, rastus, what it looked most like to you--what did it resemble?" "wall, sah, it presembled mos'ly dat big laight what yo' see on a snortermobile befo' it runs ober you. yas, sah, cap't barranton, dat's what it looked lak, fo' sho." "does that tally with your impression of it, frank?" asked captain hazzard. "yes, sir, rastus has put it very well. it was more like an automobile headlight than anything else." "well, nobody could be driving an automobile in the sky," put in the professor, decisively, as if the matter were disposed of in this way without any more argument being wasted. "no, but there are other vehicles that are capable of rising above the earth," spoke captain hazzard, thoughtfully. "for instance--?" breathed frank, with a half-formed idea of what he meant. "for instance, airships," was the quiet reply. "airships," exclaimed captain barrington. "then you think---?" "that we have some very undesirable neighbors at close quarters," rejoined captain hazzard. chapter xxi. a penguin hunt. although, as may be imagined, a closer watch than ever was kept during the period of darkness, nothing more was seen that winter of the mysterious light. the dim twilight preceding spring began to appear in february without there being any recurrence of the mysterious incident. the coming of the season in which they hoped to accomplish such great things, found the camp of the adventurers in splendid trim. everyone from captain hazzard down to the professor's albatross, which by this time had become quite tame, was in fine health, and there had been not the slightest trace of illness among the adventurers. the motor-sledge was put together as soon as the september spring began to advance, and was found to work perfectly. as it has not been described in detail hitherto, a few words may be devoted to it at this point. it was a contrivance, about twenty feet long by three wide, supported on hollow "barrels" of aluminum. the sledge itself was formed of a vanadium steel frame with spruce planking, and was capable of carrying a load of a thousand pounds at thirty miles an hour over even the softest snow, as its cylindrical supports did not sink into the snow as ordinary wheels would have done. the motor was a forty-horse power automobile machine with a crank-case enclosed in an outer case in which a vacuum had been created--on the principle of the bottles which keep liquids cold or warm. in this instance the vacuum served to keep the oil in the crank-case, which was poured in warm, at an even temperature. the gasolene tank, which held twenty gallons, was also vacuum-enclosed, and as an additional precaution the warm gases from the exhaust were inducted around it, and the space used for storing extra cans of fuel. specially prepared oils and a liberal mixing of alcohol with the gasolene afforded a safeguard against any sudden freezing of the vital fluids. the engine was, of course, jacketed, but was air-cooled, as water circulation would have been impracticable in the polar regions. the test of the weird-looking contrivance was made on a day in early spring, when, as far as the eye could reach, a great solid sea of ice spread to the northward, and to the south only a vast expanse of snowy level was visible,--with far in the distance the outlines of some mountains which, in captain hazzard's belief, guarded the plateau on the summit of which perhaps lay the south pole. the southern cross lay sheathed in ice, and the open sea, through which she had approached the great barrier, was now a solid ocean of glacial ice. if it did not break up as the spring advanced the prospect was bad for the adventurers getting out that year, but at this time they were too engrossed with other projects to give their ultimate release much thought. but to return to the motor-sledge. with frank at the steering wheel in front and harry, billy barnes, the professor, and rastus distributed about its "deck," it was started across the snow, amid a cheer from the men, without a hitch. so splendidly did it answer that the boys drove on and on over the white wastes without giving much thought to the distance they traversed. with the return of spring, skua gulls and penguins had become plentiful and in answer to the professor's entreaties the boys finally stopped the sledge near a rookery of the latter, in which the queer birds were busy over the nests. these nests are rough piles of stones, on which the eggs are laid. soon the chickens--fuzzy little brown creatures--appear, and there is a lot of fuss in the rookery; the penguins getting their families mixed and fighting furiously over each small, bewildered chick. it was egg-laying time, however, when the boys rolled up on their queer motor-sledge to the neighborhood of the breeding ground the professor had espied. the man of science was off the sledge in a trice, and while the boys, who wished to examine the motor, remained with the vehicle, he darted off for the penguins' habitat. with him went rastus, carrying a large basket, which the professor had ordered him to bring in case they needed it to carry back any finds of interest. "perfusser, is dem dar penguins good ter eat?" asked rastus, as he and his learned companion strode through the snow to the rookery. "they are highly esteemed as food," was the reply. "former expeditions to the south pole have eaten them and declare that their flesh is as good as chicken." "as good as chicking!" exclaimed rastus, delightedly. "my, my, yo' make mah mouf watah. don' you fink we could ketch one an' hev a fricassee, perfusser?" "i am only going in search of eggs and would, of course, like to catch a flea--a penguin-flea, i mean," said the professor; "and i should not advise you to meddle with any of the creatures, rastus." "why, dey look as tame as elingfants in de zoo," protested the colored man, as he gazed at the penguins, who in turn gazed back at him with their beady black eyes. "yes, and ordinarily they are, but in the breeding season they get savage if molested, although it is safe enough to walk among them." "huh," grunted rastus to himself; "dis yer perfusser am a fusser fer sho. ef dem birds tas' lak chicking ah'm a-goin 'ter ketch one while he's a huntin' fer fleas and other foolishnesseses." "what's that you said, rastus?" inquired the professor, as they began to thread their way among the piles of stones, each of which marked a nest. "ah said de perfusser am a wonderful man wid his fleas and other scientificnesses," rejoined the colored man. "ah, rastus," cried the professor, highly flattered; "if i can only catch the fur-bearing pollywog, then i shall, indeed, have some claim on fortune and fame, till then--let us hunt penguin eggs." in the meantime the boys were busy examining the motor. they found that the specially prepared oil worked perfectly and that, although it changed color in the low temperature, it showed no disposition to freeze. the gasolene, too, was successfully kept at the right temperature by means of the vacuum casing of the tank. "we could go to the pole itself in this motor-sledge," cried billy, enthusiastically. "how would we pass the mountains?" asked frank, pointing to the south, where stood the snowy sentinels guarding the mystery of the antarctic. "that's so," agreed billy, hurriedly. "that's a job for the golden eagle." "and she's going to do it, too," rejoined frank, earnestly. "that is if it is humanly possible." "you bet she is," began harry, enthusiastically. "hullo, what's happened to the professor now?" he broke off. indeed, it seemed that some serious trouble had again overtaken the luckless naturalist. "oh, boys! boys!" came his cries from the direction of the penguin rookery. "help! the menguins are plurdering us--i mean the penguins are murdering us!" "fo' de lawd's sake, come quick!" came a yell in rastus's tones. "we're done bin eated alive by dese yar pencilguins." the rookery lay in a slight depression and was not visible from where the boys stood, so that they were unable to imagine what was taking place. "they are in serious trouble of some sort again," cried frank. "come on, boys, let's go to their rescue." the motor-sledge was soon speeding over the snow and in a few minutes was at the edge of the declivity in which lay the penguin rookery. gazing down into it the boys could hardly keep from laughing. indeed, billy did burst into loud roars of merriment as he beheld the strange figures cut by the professor and rastus, as they strove to escape the onslaught of the whole colony of penguins, which, with sharp shrieks of rage were attacking them with their beaks and beating them with their wings. [illustration: "they strove to escape the onslaught of the penguins."] "oh, please, good mistah pencilguins, i didn't mean no harm," roared rastus, who seemed to think the human-looking birds could understand him. "go afta' de perfusser, it was him dat tole me youalls tasted lak chicking." "stop that, you greedy black rascal," retorted the professor, laying about him with the egg-basket. "if you hadn't tried to grab that penguin we wouldn't have been in this trouble." this was true enough. the penguins had not seemed to resent their nests being interfered with at all, but had gathered round the invaders with much curiosity. the trouble all originated when rastus had sneaked up to a small penguin while the professor was busy extracting an egg from a nest, and with a cry of: "oh, you lubly lilly chickin, ah hev yo fer supper, sho nuff," had grabbed the creature. it instantly sent up a loud cry of fear and rage, which its mates seemed to regard as a battle cry, for they all fell on the rash invaders of their realm at once. as the boys dashed down the snowbank into the rookery, with their revolvers drawn, the professor, with a loud yell, fell backward into a well-filled nest. he arose with yellow yolks streaming from him and covered with down, feathers and eggshell, that made him look like a spectacled penguin himself. rastus fared no better and was being beaten and pecked unmercifully when the boys rushed down to the rescue. "fire your revolvers in the air!" cried frank. "don't kill the poor things." "fo' goodness sake kill dis big feller dat's a-peckin' mah nose off!" yelled rastus, struggling on the ground in the midst of a mass of broken eggs. the fusillade that went up from the boys' pistols made the penguins stop their attack and waddle off in affright, while the professor and rastus, both sorry figures, scrambled to their feet and tried to brush off some of the eggshells and yellow yolks that covered them from head to foot. "come on back to the auto," cried frank, when he saw they were safe. "what, aren't you going to kill some of the birds?" demanded the professor. "no, certainly not," replied frank. "what for?" "why they attacked us and frightened the life out of me," protested the professor. "an' dem pesky pencilguins mos' bited mah nose off," roared rastus, rubbing that not over prominent feature. "well, you had no business in their rookery, anyhow," rejoined frank, unfeelingly. "why did you go?" "why, my dear sir," said the professor, regarding him with sorrowful egg-stained countenance; "in the interests of science, of course. we would not have been attacked at all if rastus had not tried to catch a penguin. what for, i cannot imagine." "why, perfusser, you done say dey tas' lak chickin," ruefully cried the black man. "did i?" exclaimed the man of science. "well, bless my soul, so i did. that was very foolish of me. i ought to have known that rastus would not be able to resist such an idea." "ah dunno 'bout de idah," observed rastus, as he cranked up the machine, and the boys and the professor climbed on board; "but ah couldn' resis' de chicking." chapter xxii. the flaming mountain. a few days after the events described in the last chapter, captain hazzard summoned the boys to him and informed them that it was time to start out and establish "depots" for the storing of food and blankets as far as was practicable, in the direction of the pole. this was in order that any parties sent out to explore might not run the chance of being lost in the antarctic snows without having some place to which they could retreat. the "depots" were to be marked as rapidly as they were made with tall bamboo poles, each of which bore a black flag. the boys pitched in to this occupation with great enthusiasm and, with the aid of the motor-sledge, soon had established three depots, covering a radius of some eighty miles from the camp. this work brought them to the verge of the chain of snow-mountains, beyond whose white crests they believed lay the pole. somewhere along the coast line of this chain of mountains, too, so the lieutenant calculated, lay the viking ship, which, in the years that had elapsed since the whalemen had seen her, must have drifted towards their bases on the ever-shifting polar currents. for the great barrier, solid as it seems, is not stationary, and many scientists hold that it is subject to violent earthquakes, caused by the subsidence of great areas of icy land into the boiling craters of polar volcanoes. a careful study of the position, in which the whalemen set down they had spied the ship, and a calculation of the polar drift during the time that had elapsed from their discovery, had enabled captain hazzard to come, as he believed, very nearly locating the exact situation of the mysterious vessel. "somewhere to the southeast, at the foot of the snow-mountains, i firmly believe that we shall find her," he said. it was a week after the establishment of the last depot that the boys were ready to make their first flight in polar regions. the golden eagle's vacuum tank and crank-case were attached and a supply of non-freezing oils and gasolene drums, carefully covered with warm felt, taken on board. "your instructions are," were captain hazzard's parting words, "to fly to the southward for a distance of a hundred miles or so, but no further. you will report the nature of the country and bring back your observations made with the instruments." the golden eagle, which had been assembled earlier in the spring, was wheeled out of her shed and, after a brief "grooming," was ready for her first flight in the antarctic regions. "it seems queer," observed frank, "to be flying an aeroplane, that has been through so many tropical adventures, in the frozen regions of the south pole." "it does, indeed," said the professor, who, with billy barnes, had obtained permission to accompany the boys. captain hazzard, himself, would have come but that he and captain barrington had determined to make surveys of the ice surrounding the southern cross, in order to decide whether the ship had a speedy chance of delivery from her frozen bondage. the golden eagle shot into the icy air at exactly ten minutes past nine on the morning of the 28th of september. it was a perfect day, with the thermometer registering 22 above zero. so accustomed had they become to the bitter cold of the polar winter that even this low temperature seemed oppressive to the boys, and they wore only their ordinary leather aviation garments and warm underclothes. a plentiful supply of warm clothing was, however, taken along in case of need. plenty of provisions and a specially contrived stove for melting snow into water were also carried, as well as blankets and sleeping bags. the shout of farewell from the sojourners at the camp had hardly died out before the aviators found themselves flying at a height of three hundred feet above the frozen wastes. viewed from that height, the aspect stretched below them was, indeed, a desolate one. as far as the eye could reach was nothing but the great whiteness. had it not been for the colored snow goggles they wore the boys might have been blinded by the brilliancy of the expanse, as cases of snow blindness are by no means uncommon in the antarctic. on and on they flew toward the mighty snow mountains which towered like guardian giants ahead of them. the barograph showed that after some hours of flying they had now attained a height of two thousand feet, which was sufficient to enable them to clear the ridge. viewed from above, the snow mountains looked like any other mountains. they were scarred by gullies and valleys in the snow, and only the lack of vegetation betrayed them as frozen heaps. perhaps not mountains in the ordinary sense at all, but simply mighty masses of ice thrown up by the action of the polar drift. "look, look," quavered billy barnes, as they cleared the range and their eyes fell on the expanse beyond. the boy's exclamation had been called forth by the sight of an immense mountain far to the southward of them. from its summit was emerging a cloud of black smoke. "a volcano!" exclaimed frank, in blank astonishment. "such another as mount erebus and mount terror, also within the antarctic circle, but not either of which is as big as this one. i should imagine," said the professor. "boys, let us head for it," he exclaimed; "it must be warm in the vicinity of the crater and perhaps we may find some sort of life existent there. even the fur-bearing pollywog may reside there. who knows?" all agreed, without much argument, that it came within the scope of their duties to investigate the volcano, and they soon were winging toward it. as they neared the smoking cone they observed that its sides were formed of some sort of black stone, and with that, mingled with the smoke that erupted from its mouth, came an occasional burst of flame. "it's in eruption," gasped billy. "we'd better not get too near to it." "i apprehend no danger," said the professor. "both scott and shackleton and our own wilkes examined the craters of mounts erebus and terror, when steam and flames were occasionally spurting from them, without suffering any bad consequences." acting on the professor's advice the aeroplane was grounded at a point some distance from the summit of the mountain, on a small flat plateau. the warmth was perceptible, and some few stunted bushes and trees clung to the sides of the flaming mountain. the professor was delighted to find, flitting among the vegetation, a small fly with pink and blue wings, which he promptly christened the sanburritis antarcticitis americanus. he netted it without difficulty and popped it into a camphor bottle and turned, with the boys, to regarding the mountain. "let's climb it and examine the crater," exclaimed frank, suddenly, the instinct of the explorer strong in him. "bully," cried billy; "i'm on." "and me," exploded harry. "i should dearly love to," spoke the professor; "perhaps we can discover some more strange insects at the summit." the climb was a tedious one, even with the aid of the rope they had brought with them from the golden eagle; and with which part of the party hauled the others over seemingly impassable places. at last, panting, and actually perspiring in the warm air, they stood on the lip of the crater and gazed down. it was an awe-inspiring sight. the crater was about half-a-mile across the top, and its rocky sides glowed everywhere with the glare of the subterranean fires. a reek of sulphurous fumes filled the air and made the adventurers feel dizzy. they, therefore, worked round on the windward side of the crater, and after that felt no ill consequences. for a long time they stood regarding the depths from which the heavy black smoke rolled up. "there's no danger of an eruption, is there?" asked billy, somewhat apprehensively. "i don't apprehend so," rejoined the professor. "a survey of the sides of the crater convinces me that it is many years since the volcano was active." "it is a wonderful feeling to think that we are the first human beings who have ever seen it," exclaimed frank, impulsively. "it is, indeed," agreed the professor. "this is a great discovery and we must take possession of it in the name of the united states. let us call it mount hazzard in commemoration of this expedition." and so with a cheer the great antarctic volcano was named in honor of the leader of the expedition. at the foot of the flaming mountain, originated no doubt by the warmth, were numerous large lakes filled with water of a deep greenish blue hue. "i wonder if there aren't some fish in those lakes?" wondered the professor, gazing at the bodies of water so far below them. "at any rate there may be some kinds of creatures there that are very uncommon. conditions such as they must exist under would make them unlike any others on earth, provided the waters are inhabited." "it's easy enough to see," said frank. "how so?" "we can clamber down the mountain side and get in the aeroplane and fly down to examine the lakes," said the boy. "bless my soul, that's so," ejaculated the man of science. "do you know, for a moment i had quite forgotten how it was possible to get here. that is a wonderful machine that you boys have there." the climb down the mountain side was almost more difficult and dangerous than the ascent, but at last all, even the professor, were once more at the side of the golden eagle. they were soon on board, and in long spirals, frank dropped to the earth, landing not far from the edge of one of the small lakes. "how curiously honeycombed the rocks are," exclaimed frank, as they got out of the craft. indeed the face of the cliff that towered above the lakes did present a singular appearance, there being myriads of holes in its face at a height of a few inches above the surface of the water. "doubtless some freak of the volcanic nature of the earth hereabouts," explained the professor; "but they do, indeed, look curious." the water of the lake, on being tested, was found to be quite fresh and agreeable to the taste though it was warmish and seemed to have an admixture of iron in it. all about them--strangest freak of all--small geysers of hot water bubbled, sending up clouds of steam into the air. "this is like an enchanted land," was billy's comment, as he gazed about him. indeed, what with the towering black mountain above them with its perpetual cloud of smoke hovering above its crest, the green lakes of warm water and the bubbling, steaming geysers, it did seem like another world than ours. some time was occupied by a thorough investigation of the small lake and the boys and their scientific companion then advanced on a larger one that lay at some distance. "do you think it is wise to go so far from the aeroplane?" asked harry. "why, there's nothing here that could attack us," the professor was beginning, when he stopped short suddenly with an exclamation. "look there!" he exclaimed, pointing down at the ground. "a human track." the boys looked and saw the imprint of a foot! yet, on inspection, it was unlike a human foot and seemed more like the track of a bear. several other prints of a similar nature became visible now that they examined the spongy soil carefully. "whatever do you think it is?" frank asked of the professor, who was examining the imprints with some care. "i don't know, my dear boy," he replied. "it looks like the foot of a bear, and yet it appears to be webbed as if it might be that of some huge water animal." "yes, but look at the size of it," argued billy. "why, the animal whose foot that is must be an immense creature." "it's certainly strange," mused the professor, "and suggests to me that we had better be getting back to our aeroplane." "you think it is dangerous to remain here, then?" asked harry, with some dismay. "i do, yes," was the naturalist's prompt reply. "i do not know what manner of animal it can be that left that track, and i know the tracks of every known species of mammal." "perhaps some hitherto unknown creature made it," suggested billy. "that's just what i think, my boy," was the reply. "i have, as i said, not the remotest conception of what sort of a creature it could be, but i have an idea from the size of that track that it must be the imprint of a most formidable brute." "might it not be some prehistoric sort of creature like the mammoths of the north pole or the dinosauras, or huge flying-lizard?" suggested frank. "i'm inclined to think that that is what the creature is," rejoined the scientist. "it would be most interesting to remain here and try to get a specimen, but in the position we are in at present we should be cut off from the aeroplane in case an attack came from in front of us." "that's so," agreed frank. "come on, boys, let's get a move on. we can come back here with heavy rifles some day, and then we can afford to take chances. i don't like the idea of facing what are possibly formidable monsters with only a pistol." "my revolver can--," began billy, drawing the weapon in question--when he stopped short. the faces of all blanched as they, too, noted the cause of the interruption. a harsh roar had suddenly filled the air, booming and reverberating against the gloomy cliffs like distant thunder. suddenly billy, with a shout that was half a scream, called attention to the holes they had noticed at the foot of the acclivity. "look, look at that!" he chattered, his teeth clicking like castanets with sheer terror. "we are lost!" shouted the professor, starting back with blanched cheeks. from the strange holes they had previously noticed at the foot of the cliffs, dozens of huge creatures of a form and variety unknown to any in the party, were crawling and flopping into the lake. that their intentions were hostile was evident. as they advanced in a line that would bring them between the boys and their aeroplane, they emitted the same harsh, menacing roar that had first started the adventurers. "run for your lives," shouted frank, as the monsters cleaved the water, every minute bringing them nearer. chapter xxiii. adrift above the snows. "whatever are they?" gasped billy, as they ran for the aeroplane. "prehistoric monsters," rejoined the professor, who was almost out of breath. the next minute he stumbled on a bit of basalt and fell headlong. had it not been for this accident they could have gained the aeroplane in time, but, as it was, the brief space it took to aid the scientist to his feet gave the creatures of the cliff a chance to intercept the little party. as the creatures drew themselves out of the green warm water of the lake with hideous snarls the boys saw that the animals were great creatures that must have weighed several hundred pounds each and were coated with shaggy hair. their heads and bodies were shaped not unlike seals except that they had huge tusks; but each monster had two short legs in front and a pair of large flippers behind. their appearance was sufficiently hideous to alarm the most callous venturer into the antarctic. "we've got to make the aeroplane," exclaimed frank, "come on, get your guns out and fire when i give the word. if we can only kill a few of them perhaps the rest will take fright." "a good idea," assented the professor producing his revolver, a weapon that might have proved fatal to a butterfly, but certainly would not be of any effect against the shaggy foes they now faced. "fire!" cried frank, when the others had their heavy magazine weapons ready. a volley of lead poured into the ranks of the monsters and several of them, with horribly human shrieks, fled wounded toward the lake. a strong sickening odor of musk filled the air as the creatures bled. but far from alarming the rest of the monsters the attack seemed to render them ten times more savage than before. with roars of rage they advanced toward the boys, making wonderful speed on their legs and flippers. "let 'em have it again," shouted frank as he noted with anxiety that the first fusillade had been a failure, the rough coats and thick hide of the monsters deflecting the bullets. once more the adventurers emptied their pistols, but the shaggy coats of the great creatures still seemed to prevent the bullets doing any serious injury. the boys' position was ominous indeed. an order from frank to reload resulted in the discovery that he alone of any of the party had a belt full of cartridges; the others had all used up the few they had carried. "we're goners sure," gasped billy as the creatures hesitated before another scattering discharge of bullets, but still advanced, despite the fact that this time two were killed. suddenly, however, their leader with a strange cry threw his head upward and seemed to sniff at the air as if in apprehension. at the same instant a slight trembling of the ground on which the adventurers stood was perceptible. "it's an earthquake," cried billy, recollecting his experience in nicaragua. with wild cries the monsters all plunged into the lake. they seemed to be in terror. behind them they left several of their wounded, the latter making pitiful efforts to reach the water. "whatever is going to happen?" cried billy in dismay, at the animals' evident terror of some mysterious event that was about to transpire, and the now marked disturbance of the earth. as he spoke, the earth shook violently once more and a rumbling sound like subterranean thunder filled the air. "it's the mountain!" shouted the professor, who had been gazing about, "it's going to erupt." from the crater they had explored there were now rolling up great masses of bright, yellow smoke in sharp contrast to the dark vapors that had hitherto poured from it. a mighty rumbling and roaring proceeded from its throat as the smoke poured out, and vivid, blue flames shot through the sulphurous smother from time to time. "we've no time to lose," cried frank, "come on, we must get to the aeroplane in a hurry." they all took to their heels over the trembling ground, not stopping to gaze behind them. the monsters had all disappeared, and as they had not been seen to re-enter their holes they were assumed to be hiding at the bottom of the lake. as the boys gained the aeroplane and clambered in, frank uttered an exclamation: "where's the professor?" in a few seconds they espied him carefully bending over the dead body of one of the slain monsters several yards away. "come on, professor," they shouted, "there's no time to lose." "one second and i have him," the scientist called back. at the same instant he made a dart at the dead creature's shaggy fur and appeared to grasp something. he hastily drew out a bottle and dropped whatever he had seized into it and then started leaping and bounding toward the aeroplane, his long legs looking like stilts as he advanced over the uneven ground. he was just in time. as the aeroplane left the ground the water in the lakes became violently agitated and steam arose from fissures in the mountain side. flames shot up to a considerable height above the crater and a torrent of black lava began to flow toward the lakes, falling into them with a loud hissing sound that was audible to the boys, even after they had put many miles between themselves and the burning mountain. "that will be the last of those monsters, i expect," remarked harry as they flew steadily northward. "i don't know," observed the professor, "they may have caves under water where they can keep cool. they evidently knew what to expect when they felt the first rumblings and shaking of the earth and must have had previous experience. i guess i was mistaken in thinking the volcano inactive." "it was a piece of great good luck for us that the eruption came when it did," said frank. "it was a terrific one," commented billy. the professor laughed. "terrific," he echoed, "why, my boy, you ought to see a real eruption. this was nothing. see, the smoke is already dying down. it is over." "well, it may not have been a big one, but you were in a mighty hurry to get to the aeroplane," said billy with a grin. "that was so that i could get my volcano monster's flea back safe and sound," exclaimed the man of science. "see here." he took from his pocket and held up a small bottle. "look there," he exclaimed in triumph. "well," said the others, who, all but frank, who was steering, were regarding the naturalist. "well," he repeated somewhat querulously, "don't you see it?" "see what?" asked billy, after a prolonged scrutiny of the bottle. "why, the flea, the little insect i caught in the shaggy fur of the volcano monster?" "no," cried both boys simultaneously. the professor gazed at the bottle in a puzzled way. "bless my soul, you are right," he exclaimed, angrily, "the little creature eluded me. oh, dear, this is a bitter day for science. i was in such a hurry to pop my specimen into the bottle that i held him carelessly and he evidently hopped away. oh, this is a terrible, an irreparable, loss." although the boys tried to comfort him they could not. he seemed overcome by grief. "cheer up," said billy at length, "remember there is always the fur-bearing pollywog to be captured." "ah, yes," agreed the professor, "but a bug in the hand is worth two in the air." as they talked, there suddenly came a loud explosion from the engine and two of the cylinders went out of commission. the speed of the aeroplane at once decreased and she began to drop. the dismay of the boys may be imagined. they were several miles from the camp and below them was nothing but the desolate expanse of the snow wastes that lay at the foot of the barrier range. "shall we have to go down?" asked billy. "nothing else to do," said frank with a grave face, "there's something wrong with the engine and we can't repair it up here. if we were not in this rarified atmosphere we could fly on the cylinders that are firing all right, but this atmosphere would not support us." "do you think it is anything serious?" asked the professor. "i can't tell yet," was the grave reply, "that explosion sounded like a back-fire and that may be all that's the matter. in such a case we can drain the crank case and put in fresh oil; for if it was really a back-fire it was most likely caused by 'flooding.'" ten minutes later they landed on the firm, hard snow and lost no time in getting things in shape to spend the night where they were; for it was unlikely that repairs could be effected in time for them to fly back to the camp before dark. the canvas curtains at the sides of the aeroplane's body were drawn up, forming a snug tent. the stove was set going and soup and canned meats and vegetables warmed and eaten by the light of a lantern. in the meantime frank had discovered that the breakdown had been caused by a defect in the ignition apparatus which it would take some time to repair. both he and harry went to work on it after supper, however, and by midnight they had it adjusted. they were just preparing to turn in, the professor and billy having wrapped themselves in their blankets some time before, when a sudden sound, breaking on the stillness of the antarctic night, made them pause. both boys strained their ears intently and the sound came once more. this time there was no mistaking it. it was the same sound to which rastus had called frank's attention the night they were on watch outside the hut. pulling the curtain open, the boys gazed out, determined to unravel the mystery once and for all. the night was perfectly still except for the buzzing noise, and a bright moon showed them the snow lying white and undisturbed about them. the sound did not proceed from the ground, that was evident, but from the air. the atmosphere seemed filled with it. "what can it be?" exclaimed harry. "look--look there!" shouted frank, at the same instant clutching his brother's arm in his excitement. both boys gazed upward and as they did so a dark, shadowy form passed above them far overhead. for an instant a brilliant light gleamed from it and then it vanished, going steadily eastward with the strange thrumming sound growing fainter as it receded. the boys looked at each other in amazement and the words of captain hazzard flashed across frank's mind. "we have some very undesirable neighbors at close quarters," the captain had said. undoubtedly he was right. "what did you make it out for?" asked harry at length. "a dirigible and no small one," was the reply, "and you?" "same here. you can't mistake the sound of an airship's engine. the question is what is the explanation of it all?" "simple." "simple, well i--" "that aeroplane is the one which was bought in europe. it is specially provided with radiators which electrically heat its gas, allowing it to navigate in these regions without fear of the gas condensing and causing the ship to descend." "yes, but whose is it? what are they doing in it?" "the first question is easy to answer. that ship is the ship of the rival expedition." "the japanese one, you mean?" "that's it. it must have been the light of it that i saw during the winter. i suppose they were experimenting with it then." "experimenting--what for?" "for the work they are using it on to-night." "and that is?" "to forestall us in the discovery of the viking ship and the south pole." chapter xxiv. swallowed by a crevasse. the early morning following the discovery of the night trip of the dirigible saw the golden eagle rising into the chill air and winging her way to the camp. the boys, as soon as they descended, hastened to captain hazzard's hut and detailed their adventures. as may be supposed, while both the leader of the expedition and the captain of the southern cross were deeply interested in the account of the flaming mountain and the prehistoric seal-like creatures, they were more deeply concerned over the boys' sighting of the airship. "it means we have earnest rivals to deal with," was captain hazzard's comment, "we must set about finding the viking ship at once. the search will not take long, for if she is not somewhere near where i have calculated she ought to be it would be waste of time to seek her at all." full of excitement at the prospect of embarking on the search for the ship, before long the boys dispersed for breakfast only to gather later on in captain hazzard's hut. the officer informed them that they were to fly to the position he indicated the next day and institute a thorough search for the lost craft. the golden eagle was to carry her wireless and a message was to be flashed to the camp's wireless receiving station if important discoveries were made. in the event of treasure being found, the boys were to at once "wireless" full details and bearings of the find and a relay of men and apparatus for saving the treasure would be sent from the ship to their aid on the motor-sledge. in the event of their not discovering the viking ship they were to spend not more than three days on the search, wirelessing the camp at the end of the third day for further instructions. the rest of that day was spent in putting the golden eagle's wireless in working order and stretching the long "aerials" above her upper plane. the instruments were then tested till they were in tune for transmitting messages from a long distance. the apparatus, after a little adjustment, was found to work perfectly. captain hazzard warned the boys that, in the event of the rival expedition discovering them, they were on no account to resort to violence but to "wireless" the camp at once and he would decide on the best course to pursue. "but if they attack us?" urged frank. "in that case you will have to defend yourselves as effectively as possible till aid arrives," said the commander. early the next day, with a plentiful supply of cordite bombs and dynamite on board for blasting the viking ship free of the ice casing which it was to be expected surrounded her, the golden eagle soared away from the camp. the boys were off at last on the expedition they had longed for. the professor accompanied them with a formidable collection of nets and bottles and bags. he had had prepared a lot of other miscellaneous lumber which it had been explained to him he could not transport on an aeroplane and which he had therefore reluctantly left behind. the engine worked perfectly and frank anticipated no further trouble from it. as they sped along harry from time to time tested the wireless and sent short messages back to the camp. it worked perfectly and the spark was as strong as if only a few miles separated airship and camp. nor did there seem to be any weakening as the distance between the two grew greater. they passed high above snow-barrens and seal-rookeries and colonies of penguins, the inhabitants of which latter cocked their heads up inquiringly at the big bird flying by far above them. their course carried them to the eastward and as they advanced the character of the scenery changed. what were evidently bays opened up into the land and some of them seemed to run back for miles, cutting deep into the many ranges that supported the plateau of the interior on which they had found the volcano. these bays or inlets were ice covered but it was easy to see that with the advance of summer they would be free of ice. at noon, frank landed the aeroplane and made an observation. it showed him they were still some distance from the spot near which captain hazzard believed the viking ship was imprisoned. after a hasty lunch, cooked on the stove, the aeroplane once more ascended and kept steadily on her course till nightfall. as dark set in, the boys found themselves at a spot in which the water that lapped the foot of the great barrier washed--or would when the ice left it--at the very bases of the mountains, which here were no more than mere hills. they were cut into in all directions by deep gulches into which during the summer it was evident the sea must penetrate. "we are now not more than one hundred and fifty miles from the spot in which captain hazzard believes the ship is ice-bound," announced frank that night as they turned in inside the snugly curtained chassis. sleep that night was fitful. the thought of the discovery of which they might be even then on the brink precluded all thought of sound sleep. even the usually calm professor was excited. he hoped to find some strange creatures amid the mouldering timbers of the viking ship if they ever found her. dawn found the adventurers up and busily disposing of breakfast. as soon as possible the golden eagle rose once more and penetrated further into the unknown on her search. several wireless messages were sent out that day and the camp managed to "catch" every one of them. the wireless seemed to work better in that dry, cold air than in the humid atmosphere of the northern climes. the character of the country had not changed. deep gullies still scarred the white hills that fringed the barrier, but not one of these yielded the secret the boys had come so far to unravel. "i'm beginning to think this is a wild goose chase," began billy, as at noon frank landed, took his bearings, and then announced that they were within a few minutes of the spot in which the ship ought to lie. "she seems as elusive as the fur-bearing pollywog," announced the professor. "you still believe there is such a creature?" asked harry. "professor tapper says so," was the reply, "i must believe it. i will search everywhere till i can find it." "i think he was mistaken," said billy, "i can't imagine what such a creature could look like." "you may think he was mistaken," rejoined the professor, "but i do not. professor tapper is never wrong." "but suppose you cannot find such an animal?" "if i don't find one before we leave the south polar regions, then, and not till then, will i believe that he was mistaken," returned the man of science with considerable dignity. this colloquy took place while they were getting ready to reascend after a hasty lunch and was interrupted by a sudden cry from frank, who had been gazing about while the others talked. "what's that sticking above the snow hill yonder?" he exclaimed, pointing to a spot where a deep gully "valleyed" the hills at a spot not very far from where they stood. "it looks like the stump of a tree," observed the professor, squinting through his spectacles. "or-or-the mast of a ship," quavered harry, trembling with excitement. "it's the viking ship--hurray!" "don't go so fast," said frank, though his voice shook, "it may be nothing but a plank set up there by some former explorer, but it certainly does look like the top of a mast." "the best way is to go and see," suggested the professor, whose calm alone remained unruffled. the distance between the boys and the object that had excited their attention was not considerable and the snow was smooth and unmarked by impassable gullies. the professor's suggestion was therefore at once adopted and the young adventurers were soon on their way across the white expanse which luckily was frozen hard and not difficult to traverse. the boys all talked in excited tones as they made their way forward. if the object sticking above the gully's edge proved actually to be a mast it was in all probability a spar of the ship they sought. the thought put new life into every one and they hurried forward over the hard snow at their swiftest pace. the professor was in the lead, talking away at a great rate, his long legs opening and shutting like scissor blades. "perhaps i may find a fur-bearing pollywog after all," he cried; "if you boys have found your ship surely it is reasonable to suppose that i can find my pollywog?" "wouldn't you rather find a viking ship filled with gold and ivory, and frozen in the ice for hundreds of years, than an old fur-bearing pollywog?" demanded billy. "i would not," rejoined the professor with much dignity; "the one is only of a passing interest to science and a curious public. the other is an achievement that will go ringing down the corridors of time making famous the name of the man who braved with his life the rigors of the south polar regions to bring back alive a specimen of the strange creature whose existence was surmised by professor thomas tapper, a.m., f.r.g.s., m.z., and f.o.x.i.--ow! great heavens!" as the professor uttered this exclamation an amazing thing happened. the snow seemed to open under his feet and with a cry of real terror which was echoed by the boys, who a second before had been listening with somewhat amused faces to his oratory, he vanished as utterly as if the earth had swallowed him--which it seemed it had indeed. "the professor has fallen into a crevasse!" shouted frank, who was the first of the group to realize what had occurred. billy and harry were darting forward toward the hole in the snow through which the scientist had vanished when a sharp cry from the elder boy stopped them. "don't go a step further," he cried. "why not,--the professor is down that hole," cried harry, "we must do something to save him." "you can do more by keeping cool-headed than any other way," rejoined frank. "a crevasse, into one of which the professor has fallen, is not 'a hole' as you call it, but a long rift in the earth above which snow has drifted. sometimes they are so covered up that persons can cross in safety, at other times the snow 'bridge' gives way under their weight and they are precipitated into the crevasse itself,--an ice-walled chasm." "then we may never get the professor out," cried billy in dismay. "how deep is that crevasse likely to be?" "perhaps only ten or twenty feet. perhaps several hundred," was the alarming reply. chapter xxv. the viking's ship. suddenly, from the depths as it seemed, there came a faint cry. it was the professor's voice feebly calling for aid. frank hastened forward but dared not venture too near the edge of the hole through which the scientist had vanished. "are you hurt, professor?" he cried, eagerly, and hung on the answer. "no," came back the reply, "not much, but i can't hold on much longer." "are you at the bottom of the chasm?" "no, i am clinging to a ledge. it is very slippery and if i should fall it would be to the bottom of the rift, which seems several hundred feet deep." even in his extreme danger the professor seemed cool and frank took heart from him. luckily they had with them a coil of rope brought from the golden eagle for the purpose of lowering one of their number over the edge of the gulf onto the viking ship--if the mast they had seen proved to be hers. it was the work of a moment to form a loop in this and then frank hailed the professor once more. "we are going to lower a rope to you. can you grasp it?" "i think so. i'll try," came up the almost inaudible response. the rope was lowered over the edge of the rift and soon to their joy the boys felt it jerked this way and that as the professor caught it. "tie it under your arms," enjoined frank. "all right," came the answer a few seconds later. "haul away. i can't endure the cold down here much longer." the three boys were strong and they pulled with all their might, but for a time it seemed doubtful if they could lift the professor out of the crevasse as, despite his leanness, he was a fairly heavy man. he aided them, however, by digging his heels in the wall of the crevasse as they hoisted and in ten minutes' time they were able to grasp his hands and pull him into safety. a draught from the vacuum bottle containing hot coffee which frank carried soon restored the professor and he was able to describe to them how, as he was walking along, declaiming concerning the fur-bearing pollywog, the ground seemed to suddenly open under his feet and he felt himself tumbling into an abyss of unknown depth. as the chasm narrowed, he managed to jam himself partially across the rift and in this way encountered an ice-coated ledge. one glance down showed him that if he had not succeeded in doing this his plunge would have ended in death, for the crevasse seemed to exist to an unknown depth beneath the surface of the earth. "and now that i am safe and sound," said the professor, "let us hurry on. the fall hasn't reduced my eagerness to see the wrecked viking ship." "but the crevasse, how are we to pass that?" asked frank. "we must make a detour to the south," said the professor, "i noticed when i was down there that the rift did not extend more than a few feet in that direction. in fact, had i dared to move i might have clambered out." the boys, not without some apprehension, stepped forward in continuance of their journey, and a few minutes later, after they had made the detour suggested by the professor, realized to their joy that they had passed the dangerous abyss in safety. "and now," shouted frank, "forward for the viking ship or--" "or a sell!" shouted the irrepressible billy. "or a sell," echoed frank. with fast beating hearts they dashed on and a few minutes later stood on the edge of the mastmarked abyss, gazing downward into it. as they did so a shout--such a shout as had never disturbed the great silences of that region--rent the air-"the viking ship at last. hurray!" the gully was about thirty feet deep and at the bottom of it, glazed with the thick ice that covered it, lay a queerly formed ship with a high prow,--carved like a raven's head. it was the viking ship. after all the centuries that had elapsed since she went adrift she was at last found, and to be ransacked of the treasure her dead sailors had amassed. the first flush of the excitement over the discovery quickly passed and the boys grew serious. the problem of how to blast the precious derelict out of the glassy coat of ice without sinking her was a serious one. frank, after a brief survey, concluded, however, that the ice "cradle" about her hull was sufficiently thick to hold her steady while they blasted a way from above to her decks and hold. it was useless to linger there, as they had not brought the needful apparatus with them, so they at once started back for the golden eagle. frank's first care, arrived once more at the aeroplane, was to send out the good news, and it was received with "wireless acclaim" by those at camp hazzard. "will be there in two days by motor-sledge. commence operations at once," was the order that was flashed back after congratulations had been extended. as it was too late to do anything more that night, the boys decided to commence work on the derelict in the morning. after a hearty supper they retired to bed in the chassis of the aeroplane, all as tired out as it is possible for healthy boys to be. nevertheless, frank, who always--as he put it--"slept with one eye open," was awakened at about midnight by a repetition of the noise of the mysterious airship. there was no mistaking it. it was the same droning "burr" they had heard on the night following their discovery of the flaming mountain. waking harry, the two lads peered upward and saw the stars blotted out as the shadowy form of the air-ship passed above them--between the sky and themselves. all at once a bright ray of light shot downward and, after shifting about over the frozen surface for a time, it suddenly glared full on to the boys' camp. both lads almost uttered a cry as the bright light bathed them and made it certain that their rivals had discovered their aeroplane; but before they could utter a word the mysterious craft had extinguished the search glare and was off with the rapidity of the wind toward the west. "they must be scared of us," said harry at length, after a long awe-stricken silence. "not much, i'm afraid," rejoined frank, with a woeful smile. "well, they hauled off and darted away as soon as they saw us," objected harry. "i'm afraid that that is no guarantee they won't come back," remarked frank, with a serious face. "you mean that they--" "have gone to get reinforcements and attack us," was the instant reply, "they must have trailed us with the powerful lenses of which the japanese have the secret and which are used in their telescopes. they are now certain that we have found the ship and are coming back. it's simple, isn't it?" the professor, when he and billy awakened in the morning, fully shared the boys' apprehensions over the nocturnal visitor. "if they think we have discovered the ship they won't rest till they have wrested it from us," he said soberly. "i'm afraid that we are indeed in for serious trouble," said frank, in a worried tone. "you see, captain hazzard and his men can't get here, even with the motor-sledge, for two days." "well, don't you think we had better abandon the ship and fly back to the camp?" suggested billy. "and leave that ship for them to rifle at their leisure--no," rejoined frank, with lips compressed in determination, "we won't do that. we'll just go ahead and do the best we can--that's all." "that's the way to talk," approved the professor, "now as soon as you boys have had breakfast we'll start for the ship, for, from what you have related, there is clearly no time to be lost." the thought that their mysterious enemies might return at any time caused the boys to despatch the meal consisting of hot chocolate, canned fruit, pemmican, and salt beef, with even more haste than usual. before they sat down to eat, however, frank flashed a message to the camp telling them of their plight. "will start at once," was the reply, "keep up your courage. we are coming to the rescue." this message cheered the boys up a good deal and they set out for the viking ship with lighter hearts than they had had since the sighting of the night-flier. they packed with them plenty of stout rope, drills and dynamite. harry carried the battery boxes and the rolls of wire to be used in setting off the charges when they were placed. arrived at the edge of the gully, a hole was drilled in the ice and an upright steel brace, one of the extra parts of the aeroplane, was imbedded in it as an upright, to which to attach the rope. it was soon adjusted and frank, after they had drawn lots for the honor of being the first on board, climbed down it. he was quickly followed by the others, but any intention they might have had of exploring the ship at that time was precluded by the ice that coated her deck with the accumulation of centuries of drifting in the polar currents. with the drill several holes were soon bored in the glassy coating and sticks of dynamite inserted. these were then capped with fulminate of mercury caps, and harry climbed the rope to the surface of the narrow gully with the wires which were to carry the explosive spark. the others followed, and then, carrying the battery box to which the wires had been attached, withdrew to what was considered a safe distance. "ready?" asked frank, his hand on the switch, when all had been adjusted. "let 'er go," cried billy. there was a click, and a split of blue flame followed by a roar that shook the ground under their feet. from the gully a great fountain of ice shot up mingled with smoke. "i'm afraid i gave her too much," regretted frank apprehensively, as the noise subsided and the smoke blew away. "i hope we haven't sunk her." "that would be a calamity," exclaimed the professor, "but i imagine the ice beneath her was too thick to release her, even with such a heavy charge as you fired." "let's hope so," was the rejoinder. billy led the others on the rush back to the gulf. all uttered a cry of amazement as they gazed over its edge. the explosion had shattered the coating of ice above the vessel's decks and had also exposed her hold at a spot at which the deck itself had been blown in. "i can't believe my eyes," shouted billy, as he gazed. "it's there, right enough," gasped frank, "the old manuscript was right after all." as for the professor and harry, they stood speechless, literally petrified with astonishment. below them, exposed to view, where the deck had been torn away, was revealed the vessel's hold packed full, apparently, of yellow walrus ivory and among the tusks there glittered dully bars of what seemed solid gold. frank was the first down the rope. the explosion had certainly done enough damage, and if the ice "cradle" beneath the vessel's keel had not been so thick she must have been sunk with the shock of the detonation. the ice "blanket" that covered her though had been shattered like a pane of glass--and, with picks thrown down onto the decks from above the boys soon cleared a path to the door of a sort of raised cabin aft. then they paused. a nameless dread was on them of disturbing the secrets of the long dead vikings. before them was the cabin door which they longed to open but somehow none of them seemed to have the courage to do so. the portal was of massive oak but had been sprung by the explosion till it hung on its hinges weakly. one good push would have shoved it down. "say, billy, come and open this door," cried harry, but billy was intently gazing into the hold, now and then jumping down into it and handling the ivory and bar gold with an awe-stricken face. "well, are you boys going to open that door?" asked the professor at last. he had been busy in another part of the ship examining the rotten wood to see if he could find any sort of insects in it. "well--er, you see, professor--" stammered harry. "what--you are scared," exclaimed the professor, laughing. "no; not exactly scared, but--," quavered frank, "it doesn't seem just right to invade that place. it's like breaking open a tomb." "nonsense," exclaimed the scientist, who had no more sentiment about him than a steel hack-saw, "watch me." he bounded forward and put his shoulder to the mouldering door. it fell inward with a dull crash and as it did so the professor leaped backward with a startled cry, stumbling over a deck beam and sprawling in a heap. "w-w-what's the matter?" gasped harry, with a queer feeling at the back of his scalp and down his spine. "t-t-there's someone in there!" was the startling reply from the recumbent scientist. chapter xxvi. caught in a trap. "someone in there?" frank echoed the exclamation in amazed tones. "y-y-yes," stammered the scared professor, "he's sitting at a table." "it must be one of the long dead vikings," said frank, after a moment's thought, "in these frozen regions and incased in ice as the ship has been, i suppose that a human body could be kept in perfect preservation indefinitely." "i reckon that's it," exclaimed the professor, much relieved at this explanation, "but, boys, it gave me a dreadful start. he was looking right at me and i thought i saw his head move. perhaps it was olaf himself." "nonsense," said frank sharply, who, now that the door was actually open, had lost his queer feeling of scare; "come on, let's explore the cabin. that poor dead viking can't hurt us." followed by the others he entered the dark, mouldy cabin and could himself hardly repress a start as he found himself facing a man who must have been of gigantic stature. the dead sea rover was seated at a rough oak table with his head resting on his hand as if in deep thought. he had a mighty yellow beard reaching almost to his waist and wore a loose garment of some rough material. had it not been for a green-mold on his features he must have seemed a living man. the cabin contained some rude couches and rough bunks of dark wood lined its sides, but otherwise, with the exception of the table and chairs, it was bare of furniture. some curious looking weapons, including several shields and battle axes, were littered about the place and some quaint instruments of navigation which frank guessed were crude foreshadows of the sextent and the patent log, lay on a shelf. "how do you suppose he died?" asked billy in an awed whisper, indicating the dead man. "i don't know--frozen to death perhaps," was frank's reply. "but where are the others? the crew,--his companions?" "perhaps they rowed away; perhaps they went out to seek for food and never came back--we can't tell and never shall be able to," was the rejoinder. the bare, dark cabin was soon explored and the boys, marveling a good deal at the temerity of the old-time sailors who made their way across unknown seas in such frail ships, emerged into the air once more. they determined to throw off in work the gloomy feelings that had oppressed them in the moldering cabin of the viking ship. "the first thing to do," announced frank, "is to get all we can of this stuff to the surface." he indicated the hold. with this end in view a block and tackle was rigged on the surface of the plateau, and the ivory and gold hauled out as fast as the boys could load it. the professor at the top attended to the hauling and dumping of each load. soon a good pile of the valuable stuff lay beside him and he hailed the boys and suggested that it was time for a rest. nothing loath to knock off their fatiguing task for a while, the boys clambered up to the surface by the rope and soon were busy eating the lunch they had brought with them. they washed it down with smoking hot chocolate which they had poured into their vacuum bottles at breakfast time. the hot stuff was grateful and invigorating in the chill air, and they ate and drank with keen appetites. so excited were they by the events of the morning, and so much was there to talk about, that the big dirigible had entirely slipped from their minds till they suddenly were jolted into abrupt recollection by a happening that brought them all to their feet with a shout of alarm. from high in the air a voice had hailed them. they looked up with startled eyes to see hovering directly over them the mysterious dirigible. her deck seemed to be supporting several men, some of whom gazed curiously at the boys; but what caught the adventurers' attention, and riveted it, was the sight of several rifles aimed at them. "keep still, and we will not shoot," shouted a man who appeared to be in command, "we do not wish to harm you." "hum," said billy, "i don't see what they want to aim those shooting irons at us for, then." "it would be useless to try to run, i suppose," said the professor. "it would be dangerous to try it," decided frank, "those fellows evidently mean to kill us if we try to disobey their orders." as he spoke the dirigible was brought to the ground by her operators and as she touched the snow several of her crew gave a shout of surprise at the sight of the pile of treasure already excavated by the boys. they started to run toward it; but were checked by a sharp cry from their officer. they obeyed him instantly and marshaled in a motionless line waiting his next command, but he left them and strode through the snow toward the boys. he was a dapper little brown man, dressed in the uniform of the mikado's manchurian troops. a heavy, fur collar encircled his neck and a fur cap was pulled over his ears. "don't make any hostile move or it will mean your death," he warned as he advanced toward them. the boys stood motionless, but the professor, in a high, angry voice, broke out: "what do you mean, sir, by approaching american citizens in this manner? if it is the viking ship you are after we have already claimed it in the name of the united states." "that matters little here,--where we are," said the little officer, with a smile, "we are now in a country where might is right; and i think you will acknowledge that we have the might on our side." the boys gazed at the twelve men who stood facing them with leveled rifles and could not help but acknowledge the truth of these words. it seemed that they were utterly in the power of the japanese. "your government shall hear about this," sputtered the professor angrily. "it will not countenance such a high-handed proceeding. we are not at war with your country. you have no right under the law of nations, or any other law, to interfere with us." "you will oblige me by stepping into the cabin of my dirigible," was the response in an even tone. the others had paid not the slightest attention to the professor's harangue. "and if we refuse?" demanded the professor. "if you refuse you will be shot, and do not, i beg, make the mistake of thinking that i don't mean what i say." there was nothing to do, under the circumstances, but to obey and, with sinking hearts, they advanced in the direction of the big air-ship. with great courtesy the interloper ushered them inside. they found a warm and comfortable interior, well cushioned and even luxurious in its appointments. once they were well inside the little man, with a bow, remarked: "i now beg to be excused. you will find books and the professor something to smoke if he wishes it. don't make any attempt to escape as i should regret to be compelled to have any of you shot." he was gone. closing the door behind him with a "click," that told the boys that they were locked in. "prisoners," exclaimed billy. "that's it, and just as we have accomplished our wish," said frank bitterly; "it's too bad." "well, it can't be helped," said the professor, "let's look about and see if there is not some way we can get out if an opportunity presents itself." they approached a window and through it could see the new arrivals examining the edge of the gulf and peeping down at the viking ship. but as soon as they opened the casement and peered out a man with a rifle appeared, as if from out of the earth, and sharply told them to get inside. "well, we've got to spend the time somehow, we might as well examine the ship," said the professor closing the window. somewhat cheered by his philosophical manner, the boys followed him as he led the way from the main cabin through a steel door which they found led into the engine-room. the engines were cut off, but a small motor was operating a dynamo with a familiar buzzing sound. this was the sound the boys had heard when the ship passed above them at night. "what have they got the dynamo going for?" demanded harry. "i don't know. to warm the ship by electric current, or something i suppose," said frank listlessly. "i wonder where the engineer is? the ship seems deserted." "i guess he's out with the rest looking over our treasure," said the professor bitterly. "ours no longer,--might is right, you know," quoted harry miserably. frank had been examining the machinery with some care. even as a prisoner he felt some interest in the completeness of the engine room of the japanese dirigible. he bent over her twin fifty-horse-power motors with admiring appreciation and examined the other machinery with intense interest. the purring dynamo next came in for his attention and he was puzzling over the utility of several wires that led from it through the engine room roof when a sudden thought flashed into his mind. with a cry of triumph he bent over a small lever marked "accelerator," beside which was a small gauge. he rapidly adjusted the gauge, so that it would not register any more than the pressure it recorded at that moment and then shoved the lever over to its furthest extent. "whatever are you doing?" demanded harry, much mystified at these actions, at the conclusion of which he had strolled up. "you know that the gas in the bag of this dirigible is heated by electric radiators in order to avoid condensation of the gas?" was the seemingly incoherent reply. "yes," was the astonished answer, "but what has that--?" "hold on a minute," cried frank, raising his hand, "and that gas when expanded by heat soon becomes too buoyant for its container, and will, if allowed to continue expanding, burst its confines." harry nodded his head. "well, then," frank went on, "that's what's going to happen on this ship." "whatever do you mean? i suppose i'm dense, but i don't see yet." "i mean," said frank, "that i've fixed the gas-heating radiators so that in a few hours the bag above our head will be ripped into tatters by a gas explosion. the resistance coils are now heating and expanding the gas at a rate of ten times above the normal and the gauge i have adjusted so that an inspection of it will show nothing to be the matter." "but what good will that do us?" urged harry. "it may save our lives. in any event the viking treasure will never be taken from here by another nation." chapter xxvii. the fate of the dirigible. "have you any idea what time the explosion will take place?" asked harry, anxiously, almost dumbfounded by the other's cool manner. "soon after dark has fallen. don't be scared, it won't hurt us; at least i think not, but in the confusion that is certain to follow we must make a dash for the golden eagle." "it's a desperate chance." "we are in a desperate fix," was the brief reply. an hour later something occurred which caused frank, who had in the meantime communicated his plan to the others, considerable anxiety. the despoilers of the adventurers' treasure hoard returned to the ship laden down with bar gold and ivory and, from what the captain was saying to his minor officers, it seemed, though he spoke in a low tone, that it was planned to sail right off back to the camp of the men the boys had now come justifiably to regard as their enemies. "if they do that, we are lost," said frank, after he had whispered his fears to harry. "you mean they will discover the trick we have played on them?" "no, i mean that the explosion will come off in midair and we shall all be dashed to death together." "phew!--would it not be better to tell them what we have done and take our chances?" "if the worst comes to the worst i shall do that. it would be imperiling our lives uselessly to go aloft with the overheated gas that is now in the bag." but the "worst did not come to the worst." the little captain who had paid small or no attention to his prisoners, evidently realizing that they could not get away, didn't like the look of the weather, it seemed, and made frequent consultations of the barometer with his fellows. the glass was falling fast and there was evidently a blizzard or sharp storm of some kind approaching. at this time a fresh fear crossed frank's mind. what if the japs had destroyed the golden eagle? so far as he could judge they had not molested her, evidently not thinking it worth while to waste time they judged better spent on looting the viking ship of its treasure. but if they had disabled her, the boy knew that in the event of his companions escaping they faced an alternative between death by freezing and starvation, or being shot down by the rifles of their captors. however, frank resolved to put such gloomy speculations out of his mind. it was useless to worry. things, if they were as he half feared, would not mend for thinking about them. supper, a well-cooked, well-served meal, was eaten under this painful strain. the boys and the professor put the best countenance they could on things, considering that their minds were riveted on the great gasbag above them which even now, as they knew, was swollen almost to bursting point with its superheated gases. "it is too bad that the weather threatens so," remarked their captor, who was politeness itself, to his prisoners; "otherwise we should now be in the air on our way back to my camp. in three more trips we shall be able, however, to carry off the rest of the treasure. we were well repaid for keeping our eyes on you." the boys answered something, they hardly knew what. frank in his nervousness looked at his watch. the strain was becoming painful. at last, to their intense relief, they rose from supper and the little officer shut himself in his own cabin. outside, the boys could hear the feet of the two armed sentries crunching on the snow. "the outrush of gas will stupefy them," whispered frank, "we shall have nothing to fear from them after the explosion takes place." "when is it due?" gasped billy, with a ghastly attempt at a smile. "at any moment now. it is impossible to calculate the exact time. but within half an hour we should know our fate." silently the boys and the professor waited, although the scientist was so nervous that he strode up and down the cabin floor. suddenly the silence was shattered by a loud shout from the engine room. "the gas! the gas! we are--" the sentence was never finished. there was a sudden convulsion of the entire fabric of the big dirigible--as if a giant hand from without were shaking her like a puppy shakes a rat. she seemed to lift from the ground in a convulsive leap and settled back with a crash that smashed every pane of glass and split her stout sides. at the same instant, there was an ear-splitting roar as if a boiler had exploded and a flash of ruddy flame. the exploding gas had caught fire--possibly from a spark from the electric radiators as the bag and their supporting framework was ripped apart by the explosion. dazed and half stunned, the boys groped about in total darkness; for the explosion had extinguished every light on the ship. "boys, where are you?" it was frank calling. "great heavens, what a sensation!" gasped the professor, half choked by the powerful fumes of the hydrogen gas which filled the air. rapidly the others answered to frank and groped through the darkness toward his voice. before them was the shattered side of the cabin. through the gap was the sky. they could see the bright antarctic stars gleaming. beyond the rent they knew lay freedom, provided the marauders had not molested their aeroplane. it was the work of a second to stagger through the opening made by the explosion and gain the fresh air, which they inhaled in great mouthfuls. then began the dash for the aeroplane. in the wild confusion that reigned following the explosion, their absence, so far as they could perceive, had not been noticed. as frank had guessed, the two sentries were knocked senseless by the explosion and the fugitives stumbled over their unconscious figures recumbent on the snow. gasping and staggering they plunged on in the direction they knew the golden eagle lay. it was not more than a mile distant, but before they reached their goal the professor gave out and the boys had to half-drag, half-carry him over the frozen surface. they were bitterly cold, too, and the thought of the blankets and warm clothing aboard the golden eagle lent them additional strength--as much so, in fact, as the peril that lay behind them. "can you see her?" gasped harry, after about fifteen minutes of this heart-breaking work. "yes. i think so at least. there seems to be a dark object on the snow ahead. if only they have not molested her," panted frank. "if they have, it's all up," exclaimed billy barnes. at the same moment harry breathed: "hark!" borne over the frozen ground they could hear shouts. "they have discovered our escape!" exclaimed frank, "it's a race for life now." [illustration: "it's a race for life now."] his words threw fresh determination into all. even the professor made a desperate struggle. a few more paces and there was no doubt that the dark object ahead was the golden eagle. only one anxiety now remained. was she unharmed? bang! it was a shot from the men of the dirigible. "they are firing after us," exclaimed billy. "they can fire all they want to if they come as wide of the mark as that," said frank; "they are shooting at random to scare us." a few seconds later they gained the side of the golden eagle and, worn and harried as they were, they could not forbear setting up a cheer as they found that the aeroplane was in perfect shape. hastily they cranked the golden eagle motor up, blue flame and sharp reports bursting from her exhausts as they did so. the engine was working perfectly,--every cylinder taking up its work as the sparks began to occur rhythmically. "we've put the fat in the fire now," exclaimed frank, as he took his seat at the steering wheel. "if they could not locate us before, the noise of the exhaust and the blue flame will betray us to them." "well, it can't be helped," shouted harry, above the roar of the engine. "we've got to get every ounce of power out of her to-night." the other lad nodded and as he did so a sound like a bee in flight fell on the adventurers' ears--a bullet. it was followed by several reports. "they've got the range," cried harry. "they won't have it long," said his brother as he threw in the clutch and rapidly the golden eagle sped forward, crashing faster and faster over the frozen surface as her young driver worked the engine up to full speed. in a few seconds more they felt the aeroplane begin to lift and soar into the night air. they were exploding skyward to safety, while far below them their baffled captors were firing aimlessly in the hope of a random shot shattering some vital part of the aeroplane. but no such thing happened and as the boys sped toward the west, bound for camp hazzard, they sent out a wireless message. again and again they tried but without success. they could not raise an answer. "of course we can't raise them. they are on the march!" shouted frank suddenly. "on the motor-sledge bound for the viking ship," cried billy, "they should be there to-morrow." "say, fellows, we have done it now," cried frank, with a sudden twinge. "what's the matter?" inquired the professor. "why, they will arrive there to find the others in possession and no sign of us. they'll think we ran away without even putting up a fight." "we'll have to try to pick them up in the daylight," was the reply; "we know about the route along which they'll drive and from this altitude we can't miss them if they are anywhere within miles of us." the boys were then at a height of about 1,500 feet. the air was bitter chill and warm wraps and furs had been donned long before. suddenly the aeroplane gave a sickening sidewise dip and seemed about to capsize. frank caught and righted her just in time. the gyroscopic balance whizzed furiously. a curious moaning sound became perceptible in the rigging and a wind, which they had not noticed before, lashed their faces with a stinging sensation. the recollection of the falling barometer flashed across frank's mind. they were in for a storm. the boy gazed at the compass beneath its binnacle light. as he did so he gave a gasp. "we are way off our course," he cried, "the wind is out of the north and it is blowing us due south." "due south!" exclaimed harry. "that's it. and the worst of it is i can do nothing. with this load on board i don't dare try to buck the wind and it's freshening every minute." "but if we are being blown due south from here, where on earth will we fetch up?" cried billy, in dismayed tones. they all looked blank as they awaited the reply. frank glanced at his watch and then at the compass and made a rapid mental calculation. "at the rate we are going we should be over the south pole, roughly speaking, at about midnight," he said. chapter xxviii. the heart of the antarctic. the professor was the first to break the tense silence that followed frank's words. "into the heart of the antarctic," he breathed. there seemed to be something in the words that threw a spell of awed silence over them all. little was said as on and on through the polar night the aeroplane drove,--the great wind of the roof of the world harassing her savagely, viciously,--as if it resented her intrusion into the long hidden arcana of the polar plateau. it grew so bitter cold that the chill ate even through their furs and air-proofed clothing. the canvas curtains were hoisted for a short distance to keep off the freezing gale. they dared not set them fully for fear they might act as sails and drive the ship before the gale so fast that all control would be lost. at ten o'clock frank, his hands frozen almost rigid, surrendered the wheel to harry. it now began to snow. not a heavy snowfall but a sort of frozen flurry more like hail in its texture. frank glanced at his watch. eleven o'clock. "how's she headed?" shouted harry, above the song of the polar gale. "due south," was the short reply as the other boy bent over the compass. "well, wherever we are going, we are bound for the pole, there's some grim satisfaction in that," remarked frank. on and on through the cold they drove. the snow had stopped now and suddenly billy called attention to a strange phenomenon in the southern sky. it became lit with prismatic colors like a huge curtain, gorgeously illuminated in its ample folds by the rays of myriad colored searchlights. "whatever is it?" gasped billy in an awed tone as the mystic lights glowed and danced in almost blinding radiance and cast strange colored lights about the laboring aeroplane. "the aurora australis," said the professor in an almost equally subdued voice, "the most beautiful of all the polar sky displays." "the aurora australis," cried frank, "then we are near the pole indeed." half past eleven. the lights in the sky began to dim and soon the aeroplane was driving on through solid blackness. the suspense was cruel. not one of the adventurers had any idea of the conditions they were going to meet. a nameless dread oppressed all. suddenly frank, after a prolonged scrutiny of the compass, voiced what was becoming a general fear. "what if we are being drawn by magnetic force toward the pole?" "and be dashed to destruction as we reach it?" the professor finished for him. brave as they were, the adventurers gave a shudder that was not born of the gnawing cold as the possibility occurred to them. frank glanced at the barograph. fifteen hundred feet. they were then holding their own in altitude. this was a cheering sign. ten minutes to twelve. the strange lights began to reappear. glowing in fantastic forms they seemed alive with lambent fire. as the boys gazed at each other they could see that their features were tinted with the weird fires of the polar sky. twelve o'clock. frank gave a hurried dash toward the compass and drew back with a shout. "look," he shouted, "we are within the polar influence." the needle of the instrument was spinning round and round at an almost perpendicular angle in the binnacle with tremendous velocity. the pointer tore round its points like the hands of a crazy clock. "what does it mean?" quavered harry. "the south pole, or as near to it as we are ever likely to get," exclaimed frank, peering over the side. far below illuminated fantastically by the lights of the dancing, flickering aurora he could see a vast level plain of snow stretching, so it seemed, to infinity. there was no open sea. no strange land. nothing but a vast plateau of silent snow. "fire your revolvers, boys," shouted frank, as, suiting the action to the word, he drew from his holster his magazine weapon and saluted the silent skies. "the south pole--hurrah!" it was a quavering cry, but the first human sound that had ever broken the peace of the mysterious solitudes above which they were winging. suddenly in the midst of the "celebration" the aeroplane was violently twisted about. every bolt and stay in her creaked and strained under the stress, but so well and truly had she been built that nothing started despite frank's fears that the voyage to the pole was to end right there in disaster. the adventurers were thrown about violently. all, that is, but frank, who had now resumed the wheel and steadied himself with it. as they scrambled to their feet billy chattered: "whatever happened--did a cyclone strike us?" for answer frank bent over the compass and gave a puzzled cry. "i don't understand this," he exclaimed. "don't understand what?" asked harry, coming to his side. "why look here--what do you make of that?" "the needle has steadied and is pointing north!" cried harry, as he gazed at the compass. "north," echoed the professor. "there's no question about it," rejoined frank, knitting his brows. "what is your explanation of this sudden reversal of the wind?" asked the professor. "i know no more than you," replied the puzzled young aviator, "the only reason i can advance is that at the polar cap some strange influences rule the wind currents and that we are caught in a polar eddy, as it were." "if it holds we are saved," cried the professor, who had begun to fear that they might never be able to emerge from their newly discovered region. hold it did and daybreak found the aeroplane above the same illimitable expanse of snow that marked the pole, but several miles to the north. "i'm going down to take an observation," said frank, suddenly, "and also, has it occurred to you fellows that we haven't eaten a bite since last night?" "jiminy crickets," exclaimed billy barnes, his natural flow of spirits now restored, "that's so. i'm hungry enough to eat even a fur-bearing pollywog, if there's one around here." "boys," began the professor solemnly as billy concluded, "i have a confession to make." "a confession?" cried harry, "what about?" "why for some time i have entertained a doubt in my mind and that doubt has now crystallized to a certainty. i don't believe there is such a creature as the fur-bearing pollywog." "then professor tapper is wrong?" asked harry, amazed at the scientist's tone. "i am convinced he is. i shall expose him when we return--if we ever do," declared the scientist. a few minutes later they landed on the firm snow and soon a hearty meal of hot canned mutton, vegetables, soup, and even a can of plum pudding, warmed on their stove and washed down with boiling tea, was being disposed of. "and now," said frank, as he absorbed the last morsels on his plate, "let's see whereabouts on the ridgepole of the earth we have lighted." the boy's observation showed that they were at a point some two hundred miles to the southwest of the spot in which they had left the crippled dirigible and the viking ship. the wind had dropped, however, and conditions were favorable for making a fast flight to the place they were now all impatient to reach frank, after a few minutes' figuring, announced that dusk ought to find them at the viking ship and, if all went well, in communication with their friends. no time was lost in replenishing the gasolene tank from the reserve "drums," and carefully inspecting the engine and then a long farewell was bade to the polar plateau. without a stop the golden eagle winged steadily toward the northeast, and as the wonderful polar sunset was beginning to paint the western sky they made out the black form of the disabled dirigible on the snow barrens not far from the viking ship's gully. as they gazed they broke into a cheer, for advancing toward the other dark object at a rapid rate was another blot on the white expanse, which a moment's scrutiny through the glasses showed them was the motor-sledge packed with men on whose rifles the setting sun glinted brightly. the golden eagle ten minutes later swooped to earth at a spot not twenty yards from her original landing place and a few moments later the boys were shaking hands and executing a sort of war dance about captain barrington and captain hazzard, while ben stubbs was imploring some one to "shiver his timbers" or "carry away his top-sails" or "keel-haul him" or something to relieve his feelings. eagerly the officers pressed for details of the polar discovery, but frank, after a rapid sketching of conditions as they had observed them at the world's southern axis, went on to describe the events that had led up to their wild flight and urged immediate negotiations with the rival explorers. both leaders agreed to advance at once, convinced that their force was sufficiently formidable to overcome the japs. "steady, men, and be ready for trouble but make no hostile move till you get the word," warned captain hazzard, as the somewhat formidable looking party advanced on the stricken dirigible. at first no sign of life was visible about her, but as they neared the ship frank saw that the wrecked cabin had been patched up with canvas, and parts of the balloon bag that had not burned, till it formed a fairly snug tent. they were within a hundred paces of it before anyone appeared to have taken any notice of their arrival and then the little officer, who had directed the capture of the adventurers, appeared. as billy said afterward, he "never turned a hair," over the conditions that confronted him. he was a beaten man and knew it; but his manner was perfectly suave and calm. "good evening, gentlemen," was all he said, with a wave of his hand toward the viking ship and the pile of ivory and gold that still lay on the edge of the gully, "to the victors belong the spoils and you are without doubt the victors." he gazed at the array of armed men that backed up the two officers and the boys. "we have come to take formal possession in the name of the united states, of the remains of the viking ship," said captain hazzard, somewhat coldly, for, after what he had heard from the boys, he felt in no way amiably disposed toward the smiling, suave, little man. "if you have pen and ink and paper in your cabin we will draw up a formal agreement which will hold good in an international court," supplemented captain barrington. a flash of resentment passed across the other's face but it was gone in an instant. "certainly, sir, if you wish it," he said, "but, if it had not been for those boys we should by this time have been far away." "i do not doubt it," said captain barrington, dryly, "and, now, if you please, we will draw up and sign the paper." ten minutes later, with the boys' signatures on it as witnesses, the important document was drawn up and sealed with a bit of wax that captain hazzard had in his pocket writing-set. and so ended the episode of the attempt to seize the treasure of the viking ship. now only remains to be told the manner of its transporting to the southern cross and the last preparations before bidding farewell to the inhospitable land in which they had spent so much time. first, however, the castaways of the dirigible were given transportation on the motor-sledge to their ship which, to the astonishment of all the american party, they found was snugly quartered in a deep gulf, not more than twenty miles to the westward of the berth of the southern cross. this accounted for the light and the buzzing of the air-ship being heard so plainly by the southern crucians. the defeated japs sailed at once for the north, departing as silently as they had arrived. it took many trips of the motor-sledge before the last load of the viking ship's strange cargo was snugly stored in the hold of the southern cross. at captain hazzard's command the dead viking was buried with military honors and his tomb still stands in the "white silence." then came the dismantling of the golden eagle and the packing of the aeroplane in its big boxes. "like putting it in a coffin," grunted billy, as he watched the last cover being screwed on. all the time this work was going forward the nights and days were disturbed with mighty reports like those of a heavy gun. the ice was breaking up. the frozen sea was beginning to be instinct with life. the time for the release of the southern cross was close at hand. at last the tedious period of waiting passed and one night with a mighty crash the ice "cradle" in which the southern cross rested parted from the ice-field and the ship floated free. the engineers' force had been busy for a week and in the engine-room all was ready for the start north, but another tedious wait occurred while they waited for the field-ice to commence its weary annual drift. at last, one morning in early december, captain barrington and captain hazzard gave the magic order: "weigh anchor!" "homeward bound!" shouted ben stubbs, racing forward like a boy. a week later, as the southern cross was ploughing steadily northward, a dark cloud of smoke appeared on the horizon. it was not made out positively for the relief ship brutus till an hour had passed and then the rapid-fire gun crackled and the remainder of the daylight rockets were shot off in joyous celebration. in the midst of the uproar billy barnes appeared with a broom. "whatever are you going to do with that?" demanded captain hazzard, with a smile, as the lad, his eyes shining with eagerness, approached. "please, captain hazzard, have it run up to the main-mast head," beseeched billy. "have halliards reeved and run it up, hazzard," said captain barrington, who came up at this moment, "the lads have certainly made a clean sweep." so it came about that a strange emblem that much puzzled the captain of the brutus was run up to the main-mast head as the two ships drew together. "that's the boy aviators' standard," said billy, proudly surveying it. "we win." shortly afterward a boat from the brutus came alongside with the mail. "letters from home," what magic there is in these words to adventurers who have long sojourned in the solitary places of the earth! eagerly the boys seized theirs and bore them off to quiet corners of the deck. "hurrah," cried billy, after he had skimmed through his epistles. "i'm commissioned to write up the trip for two newspapers and a magazine. how's your news, boys, good?" the boys looked up from their pile of correspondence. "i'm afraid we're going to have a regular reception when we get home," said frank rather apprehensively. "hurray! brass-bands--speeches--red-fire and big-talk," cried billy. "none of that for us," said harry, "i guess we'll retire to the country for a while, till it blows over." but they did not escape, for on the arrival of the polar ships in new york the boys and the commanders of the expedition were seized on and lionized till newer idols caught the popular taste. then, and not till then, were they allowed to settle down in peace and quiet to tabulate the important scientific results of the expedition. as for the professor, what he wrote about professor tapper--a screed by the way that nearly caused a mortal combat between the two savants--may be read in his massive volume entitled "the confutation of the tapper theory of a south polar fur-bearing pollywog, by professor simeon sandburr." it weighs twelve pounds, and can be found in any large library. conclusion. and here, although the author would dearly like to detail their further adventures, we must bid the boy aviators "farewell." those who have followed this series know, however, that the lads were not likely to remain long inactive without seeking further aerial adventures. whether the tale of these will ever be set down cannot at this time be forecast. the chester boys adventures have been recorded, not as the deeds of paragons or phenomenons, but as examples of what pluck, energy, and a mixture of brains, can accomplish,--and with this valedictory we will once more bid "god speed" to "the boy aviators." the end. transcriber's note: our author had a very "informal" approach to grammar and syntax; so apparently did his editor. i corrected several obvious errors in the book and listed them at the end of the text. many more doubtful spellings and countless abbreviations remain as they appear in the text. i have deleted the symbols for "degree" "minute" and "second" which appear regularly throughout the text and substituted the full word. the symbols + and in relation to temperature are retained. south with scott by rear-admiral edward r. g. r. evans c.b., d.s.o, r.n. illustrated with maps and photographs london & glasgow collins' clear-type press to lashly and crean this book is affectionately dedicated preface the object of this book is to keep alive the interest of english-speaking people in the story of scott and his little band of sailor-adventurers, scientific explorers, and companions. it is written more particularly for britain's younger generations. i have to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance of miss zeala wakeford cox of shanghai and pay-master lieutenant-commander bernard carter of h.m.s. "carlisle." without their help, i doubt if the book would have found its way into print. edward r.g.r. evans. hong-kong february, 27, 1921. british antarctic expedition, 1910. personnel _shore parties._ robert falcon scott captain, c.v.o., r.n. (the "owner," "the boss"). edward r.g.r. evans lieut. r.n. ("teddy"). victor l.a. campbell lieut. r.n. ("the wicked mate") henry r. bowers lieut. royal indian marines ("birdie"). lawrence e.g. oates captain 6th inniskilling dragoons ("titus," "soldier"). g. murray levick surgeon r.n. edward l. atkinson surgeon r.n., parasitologist ("atch"). _scientific staff._ edward adrian wilson b.a., m.b. (cantab.), chief of the scientific staff, and zoologist ("uncle bill"). george c. simpson d.sc., meteorologist ("sunny jim.") t. griffith taylor b.a., b.sc., b.e., geologist ("griff"). edward w. nelson biologist ("marie"). frank debenham b.a., b.sc., geologist ("deb.") charles s. wright b.a., physicist. raymond e. priestley geologist. herbert g. ponting f.r.g.s., camera artist. cecil h. meares in charge of dogs. bernard c. day motor engineer. apsley cherry-garrard b.a., asst. zoologist ("cherry"). tryggve gran sub.-lieut. norwegian n.r., b.a., ski expert. _men._ w. lashly c. stoker, r.n. w.w. archer chief steward, late r.n. thomas clissold cook, late r.n. edgar evans petty officer, r.n. robert forde petty officer, r.n. thomas crean petty officer, r.n. thomas s. williamson petty officer, r.n. patrick keohane petty officer, r.n. george p. abbott petty officer, r.n. frank v. browning petty officer, 2nd class, r.n. harry dickason able seaman, r.n. f.j. hooper steward, late r.n. anton omelchenko groom. dimitri gerof dog driver. _ship's party._ harry l. l. pennell lieutenant, r.n. henry e. de p. rennick lieutenant. r.n. wilfred m. bruce lieutenant, r.n.r. francis r. h. drake assistant paymaster, r.n.(retired), secretary and meteorologist in ship. dennis g. lillie m.a., biologist in ship. james r. dennistoun in charge of mules in ship. alfred b. cheetham r.n.r., boatswain. william williams chief engine room artificer, r.n., engineer. william a. horton engine room artificer, 3rd class, r.n., 2nd engineer francis e. c. davies leading shipwright, r.n. frederick parsons petty officer, r.n. william l. heald late petty officer, r. n. arthur s. bailey petty officer, 2nd class, r.n. albert balson leading seaman, r.n. joseph leese able seaman, r.n. john hugh mather petty officer, r.n.v.r. robert oliphant able seaman. thomas f. mcleod able seaman. mortimer mccarthy able seaman. william knowles able seaman. charles williams able seaman. james skelton able seaman. william mcdonald able seaman. james paton able seaman. robert brissenden leading stoker, r.n. edward a. mckenzie leading stoker, r.n. william burton leading stoker, r.n. bernard j. stone leading stoker, r.n. agus mcdonald fireman. thomas mcgillon fireman. charles lammas fireman. w.h. neale steward. contents i. south polar expedition--outfit and aims ii. voyage of the "terra nova" iii. assembling of units--departure from new zealand iv. through stormy seas v. antarctica--through the pack ice to land vi. settling down to the polar life vii. arrangements for the winter viii. the winter closes in ix. preliminary explorations x. spring depot journey xi. preparations and plans for the summer season xii. southern journey--motor sledges advance xiii. the barrier stage xiv. on the beardmore glacier and beyond xv. return of the last supporting party xvi. the pole attained--scott's last marches xvii. the second winter--finding of the polar party xviii. adventures of the northern party xix. narrative of the "terra nova" chapter i south polar expedition--outfit and aims it is nine years since the last supporting party bid farewell to captain scott and his four brave companions, whose names are still fresh in the memory of those who were interested in captain scott's last polar expedition. the great war has come and gone and the majority of us wish to forget it, but the story of scott undoubtedly appeals still to a great number of people. it is a good story, and my only hope is that i can retell it well enough to make my volume worth while reading after so much has already been published concerning the work of the british antarctic expedition of 1910. the main object of our expedition was to reach the south pole and secure for the british nation the honour of that achievement, but the attainment of the pole was far from being the only object in view, for scott intended to extend his former discoveries and bring back a rich harvest of scientific results. certainly no expedition ever left our shores with a more ambitious scientific programme, nor was any enterprise of this description ever undertaken by a more enthusiastic and determined personnel. we should never have collected our expeditionary funds merely from the scientific point of view; in fact, many of our largest supporters cared not one iota for science, but the idea of the polar adventure captured their interest. on the other hand, a number of our supporters affected a contempt for the polar dash and only interested themselves in the question of advanced scientific study in the antarctic. as the expedition progressed, however, the most unenthusiastic member of the company developed the serious taste, and in no case did we ever hear from the scientific staff complaints that the naval members failed to help them in their work with a zeal that was quite unexpected. this applies more particularly to the seamen and stokers. captain scott originally intended to make his winter quarters in king edward vii. land, but altered the arrangement after the fullest discussion with his scientific friends and advisers, and planned that a small party of six should examine this part of the antarctic and follow the coast southward from its junction with the great ice barrier, penetrating as far south as they were able, surveying geographically and geologically. this part of the programme was never carried out, owing to the ice conditions thereabouts preventing a landing either on the barrier or in king edward vii. land itself. the main western party scott planned to command himself, the base to be at cape crozier or in mcmurdo sound, near the site of the "discovery's" old winter quarters at cape armitage, the exact position to be governed by the ice conditions on arrival. dogs, ponies, motor sledges and man-hauling parties on ski were to perform the polar journey by a system of relays or supporting parties. scott's old comrade, dr. e.a. wilson of cheltenham, was selected as chief of the scientific staff and to act as artist to the expedition. three geologists were chosen and two biologists, to continue the study of marine fauna and carry out research work in depths up to 500 fathoms. the expeditionary ship was to be fitted for taking deep-sea soundings and magnetic observations, and the meteorological programme included the exploration of the upper air currents and the investigation of the electrical conditions of the atmosphere. we were fortunate in securing as meteorologist the eminent physicist, dr. g. simpson, who is now head of the meteorological office in london. dr. simpson was to have charge of the self-recording magnetic instruments ashore at the main base. study of ice structure and glaciation was undertaken by mr. c.s. wright, who was also assistant physicist. the magnetic work of the ship was entrusted to lieut. harry pennell, r.n., an officer of more than ordinary scientific attainments and a distinguished navigator. lieut. henry rennick was given control of the hydrographical survey work and deep-sea sounding. two surgeons were lent by the royal navy for the study of bacteriology and parasitology in addition to their medical duties, and mr. herbert g. ponting was chosen as camera artist and cinematographer to the expedition. to my mind the outfit and preparations were the hardest part of our work, for we were not assure of funds until the day of our departure. this did not lighten scott's burden. the plans of the british antarctic expedition of 1910 were first published on september 13, 1909, but although scott's appeal to the nation was heartily endorsed by the press, it was not until the spring of 1910 that we had collected the first 10,000 pounds. personally, i was despatched to south wales and the west of england to raise funds from my welsh and west country friends. scott, himself, when he could be spared from the admiralty, worked newcastle, liverpool, and the north, whilst both of us did what we could in london to obtain the money necessary to purchase and equip the ship. it was an anxious time for scott and his supporters, but after the first 10,000 pounds had been raised the government grant of 20,000 pounds followed and the expedition came properly into being. several individuals subscribed 1000 pounds each, and government grants were subsequently made by the australian commonwealth, the dominion of new zealand and south africa. capt. l.e.g. oates and mr. apsley cherry-garrard were included in the donors of 1000 pounds, but they gave more than this, for these gallant gentlemen gave their services and one of them his life. an unexpected and extremely welcome contribution came from mr. samuel hordern of sydney in the shape of 2500 pounds, at a time when we needed it most. many firms gave in cash as well as in kind. indeed, were it not for the generosity of such firms it is doubtful whether we could have started. the services of paymaster lieut. drake, r.n., were obtained as secretary to the expedition. offices were taken and furnished in victoria street, s.w., and sir edgar speyer kindly consented to act as honorary treasurer--without hesitation i may say we owe more to sir edgar than ever we can repay. we were somewhat limited in our choice of a ship, suitable for the work contemplated. the best vessel of all was of course the "discovery," which had been specially constructed for the national antarctic expedition in 1900, but she had been acquired by the hudson bay company, and although the late lord strathcona, then high commissioner for canada, was approached, he could not see his way to obtaining her for us in view of her important employment as supply ship for the hudson bay trading stations. there remained the "aurora," "morning," "bjorn," "terra nova," shackleton's stout little "nimrod," and one or two other old whaling craft. the "bjorn," a beautiful wooden whaler, would have served our purpose excellently, but, alas! she was too small for the enterprise and we had to fall back on the "terra nova," an older ship but a much larger craft. the "terra nova" had one great defect--she was not economic in the matter of coal consumption. she was the largest and strongest of the old scotch whalers, had proved herself in the antarctic pack-ice and acquitted herself magnificently in the northern ice-fields in whaling and sealing voyages extending over a period of twenty years. in spite of her age she had considerable power for a vessel of that type. after a preliminary survey in newfoundland, which satisfied us as to her seaworthiness in all respects, the "terra nova" was purchased for the expedition by messrs. david bruce & sons for the sum of 12,500 pounds. it seems a high price, but this meant nothing more than her being chartered to us for 2000 pounds a year, since her owners were ready to pay a good price for the ship if we returned her in reasonably good condition at the conclusion of the expedition. captain scott handed her over to me to fit out, whilst he busied himself more with the scientific programme and the question of finance. we had her barque-rigged and altered according to the requirements of the expedition. a large, well-insulated ice-house was erected on the upper deck which held 150 cascases of frozen mutton, and, owing to the position of the cold chamber, free as it was from the vicinity of iron, we mounted here our standard compass and lloyd creek pedestal for magnetic work. our range-finder was also mounted on the ice-house. a new stove was put in the galley, a lamp room and paraffin store built, and store-rooms, instrument, and chronometer rooms were added. a tremendous alteration was made in the living spaces both for officers and men. twenty-four bunks were fitted around the saloon accommodation, whilst for the seamen and warrant officers hammock space or bunks were provided. it was proposed to take six warrant officers, including carpenter, ice-master, boatswain, and chief steward. quite good laboratories were constructed on the poop, while two large magazines and a clothing-store were built up between decks, and these particular spaces were zinc-lined to keep them damp-free. the ship required alteration rather than repair, and there were only one or two places where timber had rotted and these were soon found and reinforced. i shall never forget the day i first visited the "terra nova" in the west india docks: she looked so small and out of place surrounded by great liners and cargo-carrying ships, but i loved her from the day i saw her, because she was my first command. poor little ship, she looked so dirty and uncared for and yet her name will be remembered for ever in the story of the sea, which one can hardly say in the case of the stately liners which dwarfed her in the docks. i often blushed when admirals came down to see our ship, she was so very dirty. to begin with, her hold contained large blubber tanks, the stench of whale oil and seal blubber being overpowering, and the remarks of those who insisted on going all over the ship need not be here set down. however, the blubber tanks were withdrawn, the hold spaces got the thorough cleansing and whitewashing that they so badly needed. the bilges were washed out, the ship disinfected fore and aft, and a gang of men employed for some time to sweeten her up. then came the fitting out, which was much more pleasant work. scott originally intended to leave england with most of the members of the expedition on august 1, 1910, but he realised that an early start from new zealand would mean a better chance for the big depot-laying journey he had planned to undertake before the first antarctic winter set in. accordingly the sailing date was anticipated, thanks to the united efforts of all concerned with the fitting out, and we made june 1 our day of departure, which meant a good deal of overtime everywhere. the ship had to be provisioned and stored for her long voyage, having in view the fact that there were no ship-chandlers in the polar regions, but those of us who had "sailed the way before" had a slight inkling that we might meet more ships, and _others_ who would lend us a helping hand in the matter of naval stores. captain scott allowed me a sum with which to equip the "terra nova"; it seemed little enough to me but it made quite a hole in our funds. there were boatswain's stores to be purchased, wire hawsers, canvas for sail-making, fireworks for signalling, whale boats and whaling gear, flags, logs, paint, tar, carpenter's stores, blacksmith's outfit, lubricating oils, engineer's stores, and a multitude of necessities to be thought of, selected, and not paid for if we could help it. the verb "to wangle" had not then appeared in the english language, so we just "obtained." the expedition had many friends, and it was not unusual to find petty officers and men from the r.n.v.r. working on board and helping us on saturday afternoons and occasionally even on sundays. they gave their services for nothing, and the only way in which we could repay them was to select two chief petty officers from their number, disrate them, and take them poleward as ordinary seamen. it was not until the spring of 1910 that we could afford to engage any officers or men for the ship, so that most of the work of rigging her was done by dock-side workers under a good old master rigger named malley. landsmen would have stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at malley's men with their diminutive dolly-winch had they watched our new masts and yards being got into place. six weeks before sailing day lieut. campbell took over the duties of chief officer in the "terra nova," pennell and rennick also joined, and lieut. bowers came home from the indian marine to begin his duties as stores officer by falling down the main hatch on to the pig iron ballast. i did not witness this accident, and when campbell reported the matter i am reported to have said, "what a silly ass!" this may have been true, for coming all the way from bombay to join us and then immediately falling down the hatch did seem a bit careless. however, when campbell added that bowers had not hurt himself my enthusiasm returned and i said, "what a splendid fellow!" bowers fell nineteen feet without injuring himself in the slightest. this was only one of his narrow escapes and he proved himself to be about the toughest man amongst us. quite a lot could be written of the volunteers for service with scott in this his last antarctic venture. there were nearly 8000 of them to select from, and many eligible men were turned down simply because they were frozen out by those who had previous antarctic experience. we tried to select fairly, and certainly picked a representative crowd. it was not an all-british expedition because we included amongst us a young norwegian ski-runner and two russians; a dog driver and a groom. the norwegian has since distinguished himself in the royal air force--he was severely wounded in the war whilst fighting for the british and their allies, but his pluck and anglophile sentiments cost him his commission in the norwegian flying corps. dr. wilson assisted captain scott in selecting the scientific staff, while the choice of the officers and crew was mainly left to myself as commander-elect of the "terra nova." most polar expeditions sail under the burgee of some yacht club or other: we were ambitious to fly the white ensign, and to enable this to be done the royal yacht squadron adopted us. scott was elected a member, and it cost him 100 pounds, which the expedition could ill afford. however, with the "terra nova" registered as a yacht we were able to evade those board of trade officials who declared that she was not a well-found merchant ship within the meaning of the act. having avoided the scrutiny of the efficient and official, we painted out our plimsoll mark with tongue in cheek and eyelid drooped, and, this done, took our stores aboard and packed them pretty tight. the crown preserve co. sent us a quantity of patent fuel which stowed beautifully as a flooring to the lower hold, and all our provision cases were thus kept well up out of the bilge water which was bound to scend to and fro if we made any quantity of water, as old wooden ships usually do. the day before sailing the royal geographical society entertained scott and his party at luncheon in the king's hall, holborn restaurant. about 300 fellows of the society were present to do us honour. the president, major leonard darwin, proposed success to the expedition, and in the course of his speech wished us god-speed. he congratulated captain scott on having such a well-found expedition and, apart from dwelling on the scientific and geographical side of the venture, the president said that captain scott was going to prove once again that the manhood of our nation was not dead and that the characteristics of our ancestors who won our great empire still flourished amongst us. after our leader had replied to this speech sir clements markham, father of modern british exploration, proposed the toast of the officers and staff in the most touching terms. poor sir clements is no more, but it was he who first selected captain scott for polar work, and he, indeed, who was responsible for many others than those present at lunch joining antarctic expeditions, myself included. chapter ii voyage of the "terra nova" sailing day came at last, and on june 1, 1910, when i proudly showed scott his ship, he very kindly ordered the hands aft and thanked them for what they had done. the yards were square, the hatches on with spick-and-span white hatch covers, a broad white ribbon brightened the black side, and gold leaf bedizened the quarter badges besides gilding the rope scroll on the stern. the ship had been well painted up, a neat harbour furl put on the sails, and if the steamers and lofty sailing vessels in the basin could have spoken, their message would surely have been, "well done, little 'un." what a change from the smudgy little lamp-black craft of last november--so much for paint and polish. all the same it was the "terra nova's" indian summer. a close search by the technically expert would have revealed scars of age in the little lady, furrows worn in her sides by grinding ice floes, patches in the sails, strengthening pieces in the cross-trees and sad-looking deadeyes and lanyards which plainly told of a bygone age. but the merchant seamen who watched from the dock side were kind and said nothing. the old admirals who had come down to visit the ship were used to these things, or perhaps they did not twig it. after all, what did it matter, it was sailing day, we were all as proud as peacocks of our little ship, and from that day forward we pulled together and played the game, or tried to. lady bridgeman, wife of the first sea lord, and lady markham hoisted the white ensign and the burgee of the royal yacht squadron an hour or so before sailing. at 4.45 p.m. the visitors were warned off the ship, and a quarter of an hour later we slipped from our wharf in the south-west india docks and proceeded into the river and thence to greenhithe, where we anchored off my old training ship, the "worcester," and gave the cadets a chance to look over the ship. on the 3rd june we arrived at spithead, where we were boarded by captain chetwynd, superintendent of compasses at the admiralty, who swung the ship and adjusted our compasses. captain scott joined us on the 4th and paid a visit with his "yacht" to the r.y.s. at cows. on the 6th we completed a series of magnetic observations in the solent, after which many officers were entertained by captain mark kerr in the ill-fated "invincible." we were royally looked after, but i am ashamed to say we cleared most of his canvas and boatswain's stores out of the ship. perhaps a new 3 1/2-inch hawser found its way to the "terra nova"; anyway, if the "invincible's" stores came on board the exploring vessel she made good use of them and saved them their jutland fate. we left the solent in high feather on the following day. the "sea horse" took us in tow to the needles, from whence h.m.s. "cumberland," cadets' training ship; towed us to weymouth bay. this was poor scott's last naval review. he had landed at portsmouth and busied himself with the expedition's affairs and rejoined us at weymouth in time to steam through the home fleet assembled in portland harbour. we steamed out of the 'hole in the wall' at the western end of portland breakwater and rounded portland bill at sunset on our way to cardiff, where we were to be received by my own welsh friends and endowed with all good things. we were welcomed by the citizens of the great welsh seaport with enthusiasm. free docking, free coal, defects made good for nothing, an office and staff placed at our disposal, in fact everything was done with an open-hearted generosity. we took another 300 tons of patent fuel on board and nearly 100 tons of insole's best welsh steaming coal, together with the bulk of our lubricating oils. when complete with fuel we met with our first setback, for the little ship settled deeply in the water and the seams, which had up till now been well above the water-line, leaked in a way that augured a gloomy future for the crew in the nature of pumping. with steam up this did not mean anything much, but under sail alone, unless we could locate the leaky seams, it meant half an hour to an hour's pumping every watch. we found a very leaky spot in the fore peak, which was mostly made good by cementing. on the 15th june we left the united kingdom after a rattling good time in cardiff. many shore boats and small craft accompanied us down the bristol channel as far as breaksea light vessel. we hoisted the cardiff flag at the fore and the welsh flag at the mizen--some wag pointed to the flag and asked why we had not a leek under it, and i felt bound to reply that we had a leak in the fore peak! it was a wonderful send-off and we cheered ourselves hoarse. captain scott left with our most intimate friends in the pilot boat and we proceeded a little sadly on our way. after passing lundy island we experienced a head wind and the gentle summer swell of the atlantic. in spite of her deeply-laden condition the "terra nova" breasted each wave in splendid form, lifting her toy bowsprit proudly in the air till she reminded me, with her deck cargo, of a little mother with her child upon her back. our first port of call was madeira, where it was proposed to bunker, and we made good passage to the island under steam and sail for the most part. we stayed a couple of days coaling and taking magnetic observations at funchal, then ran out to the north-east trades, let fires out, and became a sailing ship. whilst lazily gazing at fertile madeira from our anchorage we little dreamt that within two months the distinguished norseman, roald amundsen, would be unfolding his plans to his companions on board the "fram" in this very anchorage, plans which changed the whole published object of his expedition, plans which culminated in the triumph of the norwegian flag over our own little union jack, and plans which caused our people a fearful disappointment--for amundsen's ultimate success meant our failure to achieve the main object of our expedition: to plant the british flag first at the south pole. under sail! quite a number of the scientists and crew had never been to sea in a sailing ship before, but a fair wind and a collection of keen and smiling young men moving about the decks were particularly refreshing to me after the year of fund collecting and preparation. we learnt to know a great deal about one another on the outward voyage to new zealand, where we were to embark our dogs and ponies. the most surprising personality was bowers, considering all things. officers, scientists, and the watch worked side by side trimming coals and restoring the 'tween decks as cases were shaken and equipment assembled. the scientific staff were soon efficient at handling, reefing, and steering. every one lent a hand at whatever work was going. victor campbell was christened the "wicked mate," and he shepherded and fathered the afterguard delightfully. wilson and i shared the captain's cabin, and when there was nothing afoot he made lovely sea sketches and water colour drawings to keep his hand in. certainly uncle bill (dr. wilson's nickname) had copy enough in those days of sunlit seas and glorious sunrises. he was up always an hour before the sun and missed very little that was worth recording with his artistic touch. wilson took cherry-garrard under his wing and brought him up as it were in the shadow of his own unselfish character. we had no adventures to record until the last week in july beyond the catching of flying-fish, singing chanties at the pump, and lillie getting measles. we isolated him in the dark room, which, despite its name, was one of the lightest and freshest rooms in the ship. atkinson took charge of the patient and lillie could not have been in the hands of a better or more cheery medico. not all of the members of the expedition had embarked in england, although the majority came out in the ship to save expense. captain scott had remained behind to squeeze out more subscriptions and to complete arrangements with the central news, which he was making in order to give the world's newspapers the story of the expedition for simultaneous publication as reports came back to civilisation in the "terra nova." he also had finally to settle magazine and cinematograph contracts which were to help pay for the expedition, and lastly, our leader, with drake and wyatt, the business manager, were to pay bills we had incurred by countless items of equipment, large and small, which went to fill up our lengthy stores lists. thankless work enough--we in the ship were much better off with no cares now beyond the handling of our toy ship and her safe conduct to lyttelton. cecil meares and lieut. bruce were on their way through siberia collecting dogs and ponies. ponting was purchasing the photographic and cinematographic outfit, griffith taylor, debenham, and priestley, our three geologists, and day, the motor engineer, were to join us in new zealand, and captain scott with drake at capetown. in order to get another series of magnetic observations and to give the staff relief from the monotony of the voyage as well as an opportunity for doing a little special work, we stopped at the uninhabited island of south trinidad for a couple of days, arriving on july 26. trinidad island looked magnificent with its towering peaks as we approached it by moonlight. we dropped anchor shortly after dawn, the ship was handed over to the wicked mate and boatswain, who set up the rigging and delighted themselves with a seamanlike refit. campbell had a party over the side scrubbing the weeds off, and many of the ship's company attempted to harpoon the small sharks which came close round in shoals and provided considerable amusement. these fish were too small to be dangerous. after breakfast all the scientists and most of the officers landed and were organised by uncle bill into small parties to collect birds' eggs, flowers, specimens, to photograph and to sketch. a good lunch was taken ashore, and we looked more like a gunroom picnic party than a scientific expedition when we left the ship in flannels and all manner of weird costumes. wilson, pennell, and cherry-garrard shot a number of birds, mostly terns and gannets, and climbed practically to the top of the island, where they could see the martin vaz islets on the horizon. wilson secured some trinidad petrels, both white breasted and black breasted, and discovered that the former is the young bird and the latter the adult of the same species. he found them in the same nests. we collected many terns' eggs; the tern has no nest but lays its eggs on a smooth rock. also one or two frigate birds were caught. nelson worked along the beach, finding sea-urchins, anemones, and worms, which he taught the sailors the names of--polycheats and sepunculids, i think he called them. he caught various fishes, including sea-perches, garfish, coralfish, and an eel, a small octopus and a quantity of sponges. trigger-fish were so abundant that many of them were speared from the ship with the greatest of ease, and rennick harpooned a couple from a boat with an ordinary dinner fork. lillie, who had recovered from measles, was all about, and his party went for flowering plants and lichens. he climbed to the summit of the island--2000 ft.--and gave it as his opinion that the dead trees strewn all round the base of the island had been carried down with the volcanic debris from higher altitudes. it was also his suggestion that the island had only recently risen, the trees which originally grew on the top of the island having died from unsuitable climate in the higher condition. gran went up with lillie and took photographs. "birdie" bowers and wright were employed collecting insects, and, with those added by the rest of us, the day's collection included all kinds of ants, cockroaches, grasshoppers, mayflies, a centipede, fifteen different species of spider, locusts, a cricket, woodlice, a parasite fly, a beetle, and a moth. we failed to get any of the dragonflies seen, and, to the great sorrow of the crews who landed with us, missed capturing a most beautiful chestnut-coloured mouse with a fur tail. land crabs, a dirty yellow in colour, were found everywhere, the farther one went inland the bigger were the crabs. the blue shore crabs were only to be seen near the sea or along the coast and water courses. several of these were brought off to the ship for dr. atkinson to play with, and he found nematodes in them, and parasites in the birds and fish. during the afternoon a swell began to roll in the bay and those on board the ship hoisted the warning signal and fired a sound rocket to recall the scattered parties. by 4.30 we had reassembled on the rocks where we had landed in the forenoon, but the rollers being fifteen feet high, it was obviously unwise to send off cameras and perishable gear, and since it was equally inadvisable to leave the whole party ashore without food and sufficient clothing and the prospect of an inhospitable island home for days, we all swam off one by one, the boat's crew working a grassline bent to a lifebuoy. the boat to which we swam was riding to a big anchor a hundred feet from the shore, just outside the surf. there were a few sharks round the whaler, but they were shy and left us alone. rennick worked round the boat in a small norwegian pram and scared them away. many trigger fish swallowed the thick vegetable oil which the boat's crew ladled into the sea to keep the surf down, and i think this probably attracted the sharks, though it was not very nice to swim through. none of us were any the worse for our romp ashore, but the long day and the hot sun tired us all out. nearly all the afterguard slept on the upper deck that night, and, but for the dismal roar of the swell breaking on the rocks and the heavy rolling of the "terra nova," we spent quite a comfortable night. dr. atkinson and brewster had been left ashore with the gear, but they got no sleep because all night the terns flew round crying and protesting against their intrusion. the wail of these birds sounds like the deep note of a banjo. the two men mostly feared the land crabs, but to their surprise they were left in peace. next day about 9 a.m. i went in with rennick, bowers, oates, gran, and two seamen to the landing place, taking a whaler and pram equipped with grass hawser, breeches buoy, rocket line, and everything necessary to bring off the gear. we had a rough time getting the stuff away undamaged by the sea, but the pram was a wonderful sea-boat and we took it in turns to work her through the surf until everything was away. at the last, when nearly everything had been salved and got to the whaler, the collections in tin boxes, wooden cases and baskets, and the two men, atkinson and brewster, were on board, a large wave threw the pram right up on the rocks, capsizing her and damaging her badly. her two occupants jumped out just before a second wave swept the boat over and over. then a third huge roller came up and washed the pram out to sea, where she was recovered by means of a grapnel thrown from the whaler. the two on the rocks had to face the surf again but were good swimmers, and with their recovery our little adventure ended. it was a pity we had bad weather, because i intended to give the crew a run on the island when campbell had finished with them. we remained another day under the lee of trinidad island owing to a hard blow from the south-east--a dead head wind for us--because i felt it would be useless to put to sea and punch into it. we were anchored one mile s. 4 degrees e (magnetic) from the ninepin rock, well sheltered from the prevailing wind. we left trinidad at noon on the 28th, well prepared for the bad weather expected on approaching the cape of good hope. whilst clearing the land we had an excellent view of south west bay and saw a fine lot of rollers breaking on the beach. i was glad we kept there that day, as, in my opinion, our anchorage was really the only fair one off the island. by noon on the 29th we had left south trinidad out of sight, the wind had freshened again and we could almost lay our course under sail for the cape. this next stage of the voyage was merely a story of hard winds and heavy rolls. the ship leaked less as she used up the coal and patent fuel. all the same we spent many hours at the pump, but, since much of the pumping was done by the afterguard--as were called the officers and scientists we developed and hardened our muscles finely. in the daytime the afterguard were never idle; there is always plenty to do in a sailing ship, and when not attending to their special duties the scientists were kept working at everything that helped the show along. whilst on deck they were strictly disciplined and subordinate and respectful to the ship's executive officers, while in the wardroom they fought these same officers in a friendly way for every harsh word and every job they had had imposed on them. campbell was a fine seaman; he was respected and admired by such people as oates and atkinson, who willingly pocketed their pride and allowed themselves to be hustled round equally with the youngest seaman on board. the wicked mate generally had all the afterguard under the hose before breakfast, as washing water was scarce and the allowance meagre on such a protracted voyage. in the hotter weather we nearly all slept on deck, the space on top of the ice-house and in the boats being favourite billets. there was no privacy in the ship and only the officers of watches and lookout men were ever left with their thoughts. one or two of the younger members confessed to being home-sick, for the voyage was long and it was not at all certain that we should all win back to "england, home, and beauty." those who were not sailor men soon acquired the habit of the sea, growing accustomed to meeting fair and foul weather with an equally good face, rejoicing with us sailor men at a fair wind and full sail and standing by top-gallant and topsail halyards when the prospects were more leaden coloured and the barometer falling. we numbered about forty now, which meant heaps of beef to haul on ropes and plenty of trimmers to shift the coal from the hold to the bunkers. one or two were always stoking side by side with the firemen, and in this fashion officers, seamen, and scientific staff cemented a greater friendship and respect for one another. on august 7, after drinking to absent friends, oates, atkinson, and gran, "the three midshipmen" were confirmed in their rank and a ship's biscuit broken on the head of each in accordance with gunroom practice, and after this day, during good and bad weather, these three kept regular watch with the seamen, going aloft, steering, and taking all the usual duties in their turn. from the start pennell, who was to relieve me in command of the ship on her arrival at the antarctic base, showed an astounding knowledge of birds, and wilson took the keenest interest in teaching him about bird-life in the great southern ocean and giving him a preliminary idea of the bird types to be met with in antarctica. reflecting back to these days one sees how well we all knitted into the places we were to fill, because a long sea-voyage searches out hidden qualities and defects, not that there were many of the latter, still one man developed lung trouble and another had a strained heart. one of these, to our great regret, was forced to leave the expedition before the ship went south, while the other had to be ruled out of the shore party--an awful disappointment to them both. we reached simon's town on august 15, and here the naval authorities gave us every assistance, lent us working parties and made good our long defect list. we were disappointed on arriving to find that captain scott was away in pretoria, but he succeeded in obtaining a grant of 500 pounds from the south african government and raised another 500 pounds by private subscription. when captain scott came amongst us again he wrote of the "terra nova" party that we were all very pleased with the ship and very pleased with ourselves, describing our state of happiness and overflowing enthusiasm exactly. those who could be spared were given leave here; some of us went up-country for a few days and had a chance to enjoy south african scenery. oates, atkinson, and bowers went to wynberg and temporarily forgot the sea. oates's one idea was a horse, and he spent his holiday as much on horse-back as he possibly could. in a letter he expressed great admiration for the plucky manner in which atkinson rode to hounds one day at wynberg. these two were great friends, but it would be hard to imagine two more naturally silent men, and one wonders how evident pleasure can be obtained with a speechless companion. scott now changed with wilson, who went by mail steamer to australia in order to organise and finally engage the australian members of our staff. our leader was without doubt delighted to make the longer voyage with us in the "terra nova" and to get away from the hum of commerce and the small talk of the many people who were pleased to meet him--until the hat was handed round--that awful fund-collecting. chapter iii assembling of units--departure from new zealand the trip from simon's town to melbourne was disappointing on account of the absence of fair winds. we had a few gales, but finer weather than we expected, and took advantage of the ship's steadiness to work out the details for the sledge journeys and depot plans. the lists of those who were to form the two shore parties were published, together with a skeleton list for the ship. the seamen had still to be engaged in new zealand to complete this party. a programme was drawn up for work on arrival at winter quarters, a routine made out for mcmurdo sound or cape crozier, if it so happened that we could effect a landing there, weights were calculated for the four men sledging-units, sledge tables embellished with equipment weights, weekly allowances of food and fuel, with measures of quantities of each article in pannikins or spoonfuls, provisional dates were set down in the general plan, daily ration lists constructed, the first season's depot party chosen and, in short, a thoroughly comprehensive hand-book was made out for our guidance which could be referred to by any member of the expedition. even an interior plan of the huts was made to scale for the carpenter's edification. it was an enormous advantage for us to have our leader with us now, his master mind foresaw every situation so wonderfully as he unravelled plan after plan and organised our future procedure. meantime, the seamen were employed preparing the sledge gear, sewing up food bags, making canvas tanks and sledge harness, fitting out alpine ropes; repair bags, thongs, lampwick bindings, and travelling equipment generally. gran overlooked the ski and assigned them to their future owners, petty officer evans prepared the sewing outfits for the two shore parties, the cooks assembled messtraps and cooking utensils, and levick and atkinson, under dr. wilson's guidance, assembled the medical equipment and fixed up little surgical outfits for sledge parties. by the time we arrived at melbourne, our next port of call, a great deal had been accomplished and people had a grasp of what was eventually expected of them. scott left us again at melbourne and embarked on yet another begging campaign, whilst i took the ship on to lyttelton, where the "terra nova" was dry-docked with a view to stopping the leak in her bows. the decks, which after her long voyage let water through sadly, were caulked, and barnacles six inches long were taken from her bottom and sides. whilst in new zealand all the stores were landed, sorted out and restowed. on a piece of waste ground close to the wharves at lyttelton the huts were erected in skeleton in order to make certain that no hitch would occur when they were put up at our antarctic base. davis, the carpenter, with the seamen told off to assist him, marked each frame and joist, the tongued and grooved boards were roughly cut to measure and tied into bundles ready for sledge transport in case it happened that we could not put the ship close to the winter quarters. instruments were adjusted, the ice-house re-insulated and prepared to receive the 150 frozen sheep and ten bullocks which were presented to us by new zealand farmers. stables were erected under the forecastle and on the upper deck of the "terra nova," ready for the reception of our ponies, and a thousand and one alterations and improvements made. the ship was restowed, and all fancy gear, light sails and personal baggage put ashore. we took on board 464 tons of coal and embarked the three motor sledges, petrol, and paraffin. we spent four weeks in port lyttelton, four weeks of hard work and perfect happiness. our prospects looked very rosy in those days, and as each new member joined the expedition here he was cordially welcomed into the "terra nova" family. mr. j. j. kinsey acted as agent to the expedition, as he had done for the national antarctic expedition of 1901-4, and, indeed, for every polar enterprise that has used new zealand for a base. new zealanders showed us unbounded hospitality; many of us had visited their shores before and stronger ties than those of friendship bound us to this beautiful country. when we came to lyttelton, meares and bruce had already arrived with nineteen siberian and manchurian ponies and thirty-four sledge dogs, and these were now housed at quail island in the harbour. all the ponies were white, animals of this colour being accepted as harder than others for snow work, and the dogs were as fine a pack as one could select for hard sledging and rough times. meares had had adventure in plenty when selecting the dogs and told us modestly enough of his journeys across russia and siberia in search of suitable animals. scott was lucky to get hold of such an experienced traveller as meares, and the "terra nova" gained by the inclusion of lady scott's brother, wilfred bruce, in the expedition. wilfred bruce was christened "mumbo," and, although a little older than the rest of the officers, he willingly took a subordinate place, and pennell, writing of him after the expedition was finished, said that he withheld his advice when it was not asked for and gave it soundly when it was. lieut. bruce joined meares at vladivostock, and he must have thought he was joining a travelling circus when he ran into this outfit. meares crossed by trans-siberian railway to vladivostock, thence made preparation to travel round the sea of okotsk to collect the necessary dogs. he started off by train to kharbarovsk, where he got in touch with the governor-general of eastern siberia, general unterberger, who helped him immensely, got him a good travelling sledge for the trip down the amur river to nikolievsk, and wrote a letter which he gave meares to show at the post-houses and whenever in difficulties. the governor-general ordered frozen food to be got ready for meares's journey. a thousand versts (roughly 660 miles) had to be traversed, and this only took seven days; the going was interesting at times, and meares had good weather on the sledge journey to nikolievsk, although the cold was intense and sometimes the road was very bad. the sledges were horse-drawn between the post-houses. mr. rogers, the english manager of the russo-chinese bank of nikolievsk, helped meares considerably in securing the dogs. most of them were picked up in the neighbourhood of that place, but were not chosen before they had been given some hard driving tests. in one of the trial journeys the dogs pulled down a horse and nearly killed it before they could be beaten off. some of them have a good deal of the wolf in their blood. a settlement of "fish-skin" indians was visited in the dog search, and meares told us of natives who dressed in cured skins of salmons. these people were expert hunters who trekked weeks on end with just a pack of food on their backs, their travelling being done on snowshoes. after taking great pains, thirty-four fine dogs were collected, all used to hard sledge travelling, and these meares shipped on board steamer which took him and his menagerie by river to kharbarovsk. the journey to vladivostock was by train. the russian officials allowed him to hitch on a couple of cattle trucks containing the dogs to the mail train for that part of the journey. russian soldiers and chinamen were detailed by the governor-general to assist the procession through the streets of vladivostock to their kennels here. a slight upset was caused by a mad dog rushing in amongst them, but fortunately it was killed before any of our dogs were bitten. some of them were flecked by the foam from the mad dog's jaws, but none were any the worse after a good carbolic bath. after the dogs were settled and in good shape the ponies were collected and brought from up-country in batches. on arrival at the siberian capital they were examined by the government vet., after which meares and an australian trainer picked the best, until a score were purchased. horse boxes were obtained now and feed tins made for the voyage and, after minor troubles with shipping firms, meares, bruce, and three russians sailed from vladivostock in a japanese steamer which conveyed them to kobe. here they transhipped into a german vessel that took then via hong-kong, manila, new guinea, rockhampton, and brisbane, to sydney. there the animals were inoculated for the n'th time and a good deal of palaver indulged in before they were again shifted to the lyttelton steamer. the poor beasts suffered from the heat, particularly the dogs, although they had been close-clipped for the long and trying voyage. at wellington, new zealand, meares was compelled to trans-ship the animals to yet another steamer. when the travelling circus was safely installed in quail island our dogs and ponies had undergone shipments, trans-shipments, inoculations and disinfectings sufficient to make them glad to leave civilisation, and we had to thank meares for his patience in getting them down without any losses. we sailed from lyttelton on november 25 for port chalmers, had a tremendous send-off and a great deal of cheering as the ship moved slowly away from the piers. bands played us out of harbour and most of the ships flew farewell messages, which we did our best to answer. some members went down by train to dunedin and joined us at port chalmers. we filled up here with what coal we could squeeze into our already overloaded ship and left finally for the great unknown on november 29, 1910. lady scott, mrs. wilson, and my own wife came out with us to the heads and then went on board the "plucky" tug after saying good-bye. we were given a rousing send-off by the small craft that accompanied us a few miles on our way, but they turned homeward at last and at 3.30 p.m. we were clear with all good-byes said--personally i had a heart like lead, but, with every one else on board, bent on doing my duty and following captain scott to the end. there was work to be done, however, and the crew were glad of the orders that sent them from one rope to another and gave them the chance to hide their feelings, for there is an awful feeling of loneliness at this point in the lives of those who sign on the ships of the "south pole trade"--how glad we were to hide those feelings and make sail--there were some dreadfully flat jokes made with the best of good intentions when we watched dear new zealand fading away as the spring night gently obscured her from our view. chapter iv through stormy seas after all it was a relief to get going at last and to have the expedition on board in its entirety, but what a funny little colony of souls. a floating farm-yard best describes the appearance of the upper deck, with the white pony heads peeping out of their stables, dogs chained to stanchions, rails, and ring-bolts, pet rabbits lolloping around the ready supply of compressed hay, and forage here, there, and everywhere. if the "terra nova" was deeply laden from cardiff, imagine what she looked like leaving new zealand. we had piled coal in sacks wherever it could be wedged in between the deck cargo of petrol. paraffin and oil drums filled up most of the hatch spaces, for the poop had been rendered uninhabitable by the great wooden cases containing two of our motor sledges. the seamen were excellent, and captain scott seemed delighted with the crowd. he and wilson were very loyal to the old "discovery" men we had with us and scott was impressed with my man, cheetham, the merchant service boatswain, and could not quite make out how "alf," as the sailors called him, got so much out of the hands--this little squeaky-voiced man--i think we hit on utopian conditions for working the ship. there were no wasters, and our seamen were the pick of the british navy and mercantile marine. most of the naval men were intelligent petty officers and were as fully alive as the merchantmen to "alf's" windjammer knowledge. cheetham was quite a character, and besides being immensely popular and loyal he was a tough, humorous little soul who had made more antarctic voyages than any man on board. the seamen and stokers willingly gave up the best part of the crew space in order to allow sheltered pony stables to be built in the forecastle; it would have fared badly with the poor creatures had we kept them out on deck on the southward voyage. a visit to the campbell islands was projected, but abandoned on account of the ship being unable to lay her course due to strong head winds on december 1. we therefore shaped to cross the antarctic circle in 178 degrees w. and got a good run of nearly 200 miles in, but the wind rose that afternoon and a gale commenced at a time when we least could afford to face bad weather in our deeply-laden conditions. by 6 p.m. i had to heave the ship to under lower topsails and fore topmast staysail. engines were kept going at slow speed to keep the ship under control, but when night fell the prospect was gloomy enough. captain scott had consented to my taking far more on board than the ship was ever meant to carry, and we could not expect to accomplish our end without running certain risks. to sacrifice coal meant curtailing the antarctic cruising programme, but as the weather grew worse we had to consider throwing coal overboard to lighten the vessel. quite apart from this, the huge waves which washed over the ship swamped everything and increased the deck weights considerably. ten tons of coal were thrown over to prevent them from taking charge and breaking petrol cases adrift. in spite of a liberal use of oil to keep heavy water from breaking over, the decks were continually swept by the seas and the rolling was so terrific that the poor dogs were almost hanging by their chains. meares and dimitri, helped by the watch, tended them unceasingly, but in spite of their combined efforts one dog was washed overboard after being literally drowned on the upper deck. one pony died that night, oates and atkinson standing by it and trying their utmost to keep the wretched beast on its feet. a second animal succumbed later, and poor oates had a most trying time in caring for his charges and rendering what help he could to ameliorate their condition. those of his ship-mates who saw him in this gale will never forget his strong, brown face illuminated by a hanging lamp as he stood amongst those suffering little beasts. he was a fine, powerful man, and on occasions he seemed to be actually lifting the poor little ponies to their feet as the ship lurched heavily to leeward and a great sea would wash the legs of his charges from under them. one felt somehow, glancing into the ponies' stalls, which captain scott and i frequently visited together, that oates's very strength itself inspired his animals with confidence. he himself appeared quite unconscious of any personal suffering, although his hands and feet must have been absolutely numbed by the cold and wet. in the middle watch williams, the chief engineer, reported that his pumps were choked and that as fast as he cleared them they choked again, the water coming into the ship so fast that the stoke-hold plates were submerged and water gaining fast. i ordered the watch to man the hand-pump, but that was soon choked too. things now looked really serious, since it was impossible to get to the pump-well while terrific seas were washing over the ship and the afterhatch could not be opened. consequently we started to bail the water out with buckets and also rigged the small fire-engine and pumped with this as well. the water in the engine room gradually gained until it entered the ashpit of the centre furnace and commenced to put the fires out. both williams and lashly were up to their necks in water, clearing and re-clearing the engine room pump suctions, but eventually the water beat them and i allowed williams to let fires out in the boiler. it could not be otherwise. we stopped engines, and with our cases of petrol being lifted out of their lashings by the huge waves, with the ponies falling about and the dogs choking and wallowing in the water and mess, their chains entangling them and tripping up those who tried to clear them, the situation looked as black and disheartening as it well could be. when dawn broke the greater part of the lee bulwarks had been torn away and our decks laid open to the sea, which washed in and out as it would have over a rock. the poor ship laboured dreadfully, and after consultation with captain scott we commenced to cut a hole in the engine room bulkhead to get at the hand pump-well. meanwhile i told the afterguard off into watches, and, relieving every two hours, they set to work, formed a chain at the engine room ladder way and bailed the ship out with buckets. in this way they must have discharged between 2000 and 3000 gallons of water. the watch manned the hand pump, which, although choked, discharged a small stream, and for twenty-four hours this game was kept up, scott himself working with the best of them and staying with the toughest. it was a sight that one could never forget: everybody saturated, some waist-deep on the floor of the engine room, oil and coal dust mixing with the water and making every one filthy, some men clinging to the iron ladder way and passing full buckets up long after their muscles had ceased to work naturally, their grit and spirit keeping them going. i did admire the weaker people, especially those who were unhardened by the months of physical training of the voyage out from england. when each two-hour shift was relieved, the party, coughing and spluttering, would make their way into the ward-room where hooper and neale, the stewards, mere boys, supplied them with steaming cocoa. how on earth the cooks kept the galley fires going i could never understand: they not only did this, but fed us all at frequent intervals. by 10 p.m. on the 2nd december the hole in the engine room bulkhead was cut completely. i climbed through it, followed by bowers, the carpenter, and teddy nelson, and when we got into the hold there was just enough room to wriggle along to the pump-well over the coal. we tore down a couple of planks to get access to the shaft and then i went down to the bottom to find out how matters stood. bowers came next with an electric torch, which he shone downwards whilst i got into the water, hanging on to the bottom rungs of the ladder leading to the bilge. sitting on the keel the water came up to my neck and, except for my head, i was under water till after midnight passing up coal balls, the cause of all the trouble. though, of course, we had washed out the bilges in new zealand, the constant stream of water which leaked in from the topsides had carried much coal-dust into them. this, mixed with the lubricating oil washed down from the engines, had cemented into buns and balls which found their way down and choked both hand and engine pump suctions. i sent up twenty bucketfuls of this filthy stuff, which meant frequently going head under the unspeakably dirty water, but having cleared the lower ends of the suction pipe the watch manning the hand pump got the water down six inches, and it was obvious by 4 o'clock in the morning that the pump was gaining. we therefore knocked the afterguard off bailing, and the seamen worked steadily at the pump until 9 a.m. and got the water right down to nine inches, so we were able to light fires again and once more raise steam. we made a serviceable wire grating to put round the hand pump suction to keep the bigger stuff from choking the pipes in future. it was days before some of us could get our hair clean from that filthy coal-oil mixture. one more pony died during the gale, but when the weather moderated early on the 3rd, the remaining seventeen animals bucked up and, when not eating their food, nonchalantly gnawed great gaps in the stout planks forming the head parts of their stalls. at last the sun came out and helped to dry the dogs. campbell and his seamen cleared up the decks and re-secured the top hamper in the forenoon, we reset sail, and after tea scott, oates, atkinson, and a few more of us hoisted the two dead ponies out of the forecastle, through the skylight, and over the side. it was a dirty job, because the square of the hatch was so small that a powerful purchase had to be used which stretched out the ponies like dead rabbits. we only made good twenty-three miles that day and, although the gale had abated, it left us a legacy in the shape of a heavy uncomfortable swell. most of the bunks were in a sad state, the ship having worked so badly that the upper deck seams opened everywhere and water had literally poured into them. looking at the fellows' faces in the ward-room at dinner that night there was no trace of anxiety, worry, or fatigue to be seen. we drank to sweet-hearts and wives, it being saturday evening, and those who had no watch were glad to turn in early. more fresh wind next day but finer weather to follow. gran declared he saw an iceberg on the 5th december, but it turned out to be a whale spouting. our runs were nothing to boast of, 150 miles being well above the average, but the lengthening days told us that we were rapidly changing our latitude and approaching the ice. chapter v antarctica--through the pack ice to land we sighted our first iceberg in latitude 62 degrees on the evening of wednesday, december 7. cheetham's squeaky hail came down from aloft and i went up to the crow's-nest to look at it, and from this time on we passed all kinds of icebergs, from the huge tabular variety to the little weathered water-worn bergs. some we steamed quite close to and they seemed for all the world like great masses of sugar floating in the sea. from latitudes 60 to 63 degrees we saw a fair number of birds: southern fulmars, whale birds, molly-mawks, sooty albatrosses, and occasionally cape-pigeons still. then the brown-backed petrels began to appear, sure precursors of the pack ice--it was in sight right enough the day after the brown-backs were seen. by breakfast time on december 9, when nearly in latitude 65 degrees, we were steaming through thin streams of broken pack with floes from six to twelve feet across. a few penguins and seals were seen, and by 10 a.m. no less than twenty-seven icebergs in sight. the newcomers to these regions were clustered in little groups on the forecastle and poop sketching and painting, hanging over the bows and gleefully watching this lighter stuff being brushed aside by our strong stem. we were passing through pack all day, but the ice hereabouts was not close enough nor heavy enough to stop us appreciably. the ship was usually conned by pennell and myself from the crow's-nest, and i took the ship very near one berg for ponting to cinematograph it. we now began to see snow petrels with black beaks and pure white bodies, rather resembling doves. also we saw great numbers of brown-backed petrels the first day in the pack, whole flights of them resting on the icebergs. the sun was just below the horizon at midnight and we had a most glorious sunset, which was first a blazing copper changing to salmon pink and then purple. the pools of water between the floes caught the reflection, the sea was perfectly still and every berg and ice-floe caught something of the delicate colour. wilson, of course, was up and about till long after midnight sketching and painting. the antarctic pack ice lends itself to water-colour work far better than to oils. when conning the ship from up in the crow's-nest one has a glorious view of this great changing ice-field. moving through lanes of clear blue water, cannoning into this floe and splitting it with iron-bound stem, overriding that and gnawing off a twenty ton lump, gliding south, east, west, through leads of open water, then charging an innocent-looking piece which brings the ship up all-standing, astern and ahead again, screwing and working the wonderful wooden ship steadily southward until perhaps two huge floes gradually narrow the lane and hold the little lady fast in their frozen grip. this is the time to wait and have a look round: on one side floes the size of a football field, all jammed together, with their torn up edges showing their limits and where the pressure is taken. then three or four bergs, carved from the distant barrier, imprisoned a mile or so away, with the evening sun's soft rays casting beautiful shadows about them and kissing their glistening cliff faces. glancing down from the crow's-nest the ship throws deep shadows over the ice and, while the sun is just below the southern horizon, the still pools of water show delicate blues and greens that no artist can ever do justice to. it is a scene from fairyland. i loved this part of the voyage, for i was in my element. at odd times during the night, if one can call it night, the crow's-nest would have visitors, and hot cocoa would be sent up in covered pots by means of signal halyards. the pack ice was new to all the ship's officers except myself, but they soon got into the way of conning and working through open water leads and, as time went on, distinguished the thinner ice from the harder and more dangerous stuff. on december 10 we stopped the ship and secured her to a heavy floe from which we took in sufficient ice to make eight tons of fresh water, and whilst doing this rennick sounded and obtained bottom in 1964 fathoms, fora-minifera and decomposed skeleton unicellular organs, also two pieces of black basic lava. lillie and nelson took plankton and water bottle samples to about 280 fathoms. a few penguins came round and a good many crab-eater seals were seen. in the afternoon we got under way again and worked for about eight miles through the pack, which was gradually becoming denser. about 2:30 p.m. i saw from the crow's-nest four seals on a floe. i slid down a backstay, and whilst the officer on watch worked the ship close to them, i got two or three others with all our firearms and shot the lot from the forecastle head. we had seal liver for dinner that night; one or two rather turned up their noses at it, but, as scott pointed out, the time would come when seal liver would be a delicacy to dream about. campbell did not do much conning except in the early morning, as his executive duties kept him well occupied. the polar sledge journey had its attractions, but campbell's party were to have interesting work and were envied by many on board. for reasons which need not here be entered into campbell had to abandon the king edward vii. land programme, but in these days his mob were known as the eastern party, to consist of the wicked mate, levick, and priestley, with three seamen, abbott, browning, and dickason. campbell had the face of an angel and the heart of a hornet. with the most refined and innocent smile he would come up to me and ask whether the eastern party could have a small amount of this or that luxury. of course i would agree, and sure enough bowers would tell me that campbell had already appropriated a far greater share than he was ever entitled to of the commodity in question. this happened again and again, but the refined smile was irresistible and i am bound to say the wicked mate generally got away with it, for even bowers, the incomparable, was bowled over by that smile. we crossed the antarctic circle on the morning of the 10th, little dreaming in those happy days that the finest amongst us would never recross it again. we took a number of deep-sea soundings, several of over 2000 fathoms, on this first southward voyage. rennick showed himself very expert with the deep-sea gear and got his soundings far more easily than we had done in the "discovery" and "morning" days. we were rather unfortunate as regards the pack ice met with, and must have passed through 400 miles of it from north to south. on my two previous voyages we had had easier conditions altogether, and then it had not mattered, but all with these dogs and ponies cooped up and losing condition, with the "terra nova" eating coal and sixty hungry men scoffing enormous meals, we did not seem to be doing much or getting on with the show. it was, of course, nobody's fault, but our patience was sorely tried. we made frequent stops in the pack ice, even letting fires out and furling sail, and sometimes the ice would be all jammed up so that not a water hole was visible--this condition would continue for days. then, for no apparent reason, leads would appear and black water-skies would tempt us to raise steam again. scott himself showed an admirable patience, for the rest of us had something to occupy our time with. pennell and i, for instance, were constantly taking sights and working them out to find our position and also to get the set and drift of the current. then there were magnetic observations to be taken on board and out on the ice away from the magnetic influence of the ship, such as it was. simpson had heaps to busy himself with, and ponting was here, there, and everywhere with his camera and cinematograph machine. had it not been for our anxiety to make southward progress, the time would have passed pleasantly enough, especially in fine weather. days came when we could get out on the floe and exercise on ski, and gran zealously looked to all our requirements in this direction. december 11 witnessed the extraordinary sight of our company standing bareheaded on deck whilst captain scott performed divine service. two hymns were sung, which broke strangely the great white silence. the weather was against us this day in that we had snow, thaw, and actually rain, but we could not complain on the score of weather conditions generally. practically all the ship's company exercised on the floes while we remained fast frozen. next day there was some slight loosening of the pack and we tried sailing through it and managed half a degree southward in the forty-eight hours. we got along a few miles here and there, but when ice conditions continued favourable for making any serious advance it was better to light up and push our way onward with all the power we could command. we got some heavy bumps on the 13th december and as this hammering was not doing the ship much good, since i was unable to make southing then at a greater rate than one mile an hour, we let fires right out and prepared, as captain scott said, "to wait till the clouds roll by." for the next few days there was not much doing nor did we experience such pleasant weather. constant visits were made to the crow's-nest in search of a way through. december 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and some sleet. affectionate memories of captain colbeck and the little relief ship, "morning," came back when the wind soughed and whistled through the rigging: this sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed to exaggerate any noise. i hated the overcast days in the pack. it was bitterly cold in the crow's-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them. the light, too, tired and strained one's eyes far more than on clear days. when two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly. we would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be encountered. december 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open water. a very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a fish was left stranded. it was a funny little creature, nine inches in length, a species of notathenia. several snow petrels and a skua-gull made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till one of us secured the fish from the floe. early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving beach like an island. we began to make better progress to the south-westward and worked into a series of open leads. we came across our first emperor penguin, a young one, and two sea-leopards, besides crab-eater seals, many penguins, some giant petrels, and a wilson petrel. that afternoon tremendous pieces of ice were passed; they were absolutely solid and regular floes, being ten to twelve feet above water and, as far as one could judge, about 50 feet below. the water here was beautifully clear. we had now reached latitude 68 degrees and, as penguins were plentiful, archer and clissold, the cooks, made us penguin stews and "hooshes" to eke out our fresh provisions. concerning the penguins, they frequently came and inspected the ship. one day wilson and i chased some, but they continually kept just out of our reach; then uncle bill lay down on the snow, and when one, out of curiosity, came up to him he grabbed it by the leg and brought it to the ship, protesting violently, for all the world like a little old man in a dinner jacket. atkinson and wilson found a new kind of tapeworm in this penguin, with a head like a propeller. this worm has since been named after one of us! we were now down to under 300 tons of coal, some of which had perforce to be landed, in addition to the 30 tons of patent fuel which were under the forward stores. i had no idea that captain scott could be so patient. he put the best face on everything, although he certainly was disappointed in the "terra nova" and her steaming capacity. he could not well have been otherwise when comparing her with his beloved "discovery." whilst in the pack our leader spent his time in getting hold of the more detailed part of our scientific programme and mildly tying the scientists in knots. we had some good views of whales in the pack. whenever a whale was sighted wilson was called to identify it unless it proved to belong to one of the more common species. we saw sibbald's whale; rorquals, and many killer whales, but no right whales were properly identified this trip. i very much wanted to show scott the island we had discovered in the first antarctic relief expedition and named after him, but when in its vicinity snow squalls and low visibility prevented this. on the 22nd bowers, wright, griffith taylor and myself chased a lot of young penguins on the ice and secured nine for our christmas dinner. we spent a very pleasant christmas this year, devoting great attention to food. we commenced the day with kidneys from our frozen meat store. captain scott conducted the christmas church service and all hands attended since we had no steam up and were fast held in the pack. the ward-room was decorated with our sledge flags and a new blue tablecloth generally brightened up our mess. we had fresh mutton for lunch and the seamen had their christmas dinner at this time. the afterguard dined at 6.30 on fresh penguin, roast beef, plum pudding, mince pies, and asparagus, while we had champagne, port, and liqueurs to drink and an enormous box of fry's fancy chocolates for dessert. this "mortal gorge" was followed by a sing-song lasting until midnight, nearly every one, even the most modest, contributing. around the christmas days we made but insignificant headway, only achieving thirty-one miles in the best part of the week, but on the 29th the floes became thin and the ice showed signs of recent formation, though intermingled with heavier floes of old and rotten ice. there was much diatomacea in the rotten floes. about 2.40 a.m. the ship broke through into a lead of open water six miles in length. i spent the middle watch in the crow's-nest, bowers being up there with me talking over the expedition, his future and mine. he was a wonderful watch companion, especially when he got on to his favourite subject, india. he had some good tales to tell of the persian gulf, of days and weeks spent boat-cruising, of attacks made on gun-running dhows and kindred adventure. he told me that one dhow was boarded while he was up the gulf, when the arabs, waiting until most of the boat's crew of bluejackets were on board, suddenly let go the halyards of their great sail and let it down crash over the lot, the boom breaking many heads and the sail burying our seamen, while the arabs got to work and practically scuppered the crowd. soon after 4 a.m. i went below and turned in, confident that we were nearing the southern extreme of the pack. captain scott awoke when i went into the cabin, pleased at the prospect, but after so many adverse ice conditions he shook his head, unwilling to believe that we should get clear yet awhile. i bet him ten sardine sandwiches that we should be out of the pack by noon on the 30th, and when i turned out at 8 o'clock i was delighted to find the ship steaming through thin floes and passing into a series of great open water leads. by 6 p.m. on the 29th a strong breeze was blowing, snow was falling, and we were punching along under steam and sail. sure enough we got out of the pack early on the 30th and, cracking on all our canvas, were soon doing eight knots with a following wind. later in the day the wind headed us with driving snow, fine rain, and, unfortunately, a considerable head swell. this caused the ship to pitch so badly that the ponies began to give trouble again. oates asked for the speed to be reduced, but we got over this by setting fore and aft sail and keeping the ship's head three or four points off the wind. new year's eve gave us another anxious time, for we encountered a hard blow from the s.s.e. it was necessary to heave the ship to most of the day under bare poles with the engines just jogging to keep the swell on her bow. a thin line of pack ice was sighted in the morning and this turned out to be quite a blessing in disguise, for i took the ship close to the edge of it and skirted along to leeward. the ice formed a natural break-water and damped the swell most effectually. the swell and sea in the open would have been too much for the ponies as it must be remembered that they had been in their stalls on board for five weeks. we had now reached the continental shelf, the depth of water had changed from 1111 fathoms on the 30th to 180 fathoms this day. the biologists took advantage of our jogging along in the open water to trawl, but very few specimens were obtained. at midnight the "youth of the town" made the devil of a din by striking sixteen bells, blowing whistles on the siren, hooting with the foghorn, cheering and singing. what children we were, but what matter! 1911 came like the opening of a new volume of an exciting book. this was the year in which scott hoped to reach the pole, the ideal date he had given being december 21. this was the year that campbell and his party were looking forward to so eagerly--if only they could be successful in landing their gear and equipment in king edward vii. land--and, for the less showy but more scientific sledgers, 1911 held a wealth of excitement in store. griffith taylor and debenham knew pretty well that next new year's day would see them in the midst of their western journey with the secrets of those rugged mountains revealed perhaps. i do not know what my own feelings were, it would be impossible to describe them. i read up part of shackleton's diary and something of what his companion wilde had written. just this: 12 _miles_, 200 _yards_.--1/1/08. "started usual time. quan (pony) got through the forenoon fairly well with assistance, but after lunch the poor chap broke down and we had to take him out of harness. shackleton, adams, and marshall dragged his sledge, and i brought the ponies along with the other load. as soon as we camped i gave quan the bullet, and marshall and i cut him up. he was a tough one. i am cook this week with marshall as my tent mate." the more one read into shackleton's story the more wonderful it all seemed, and with our resources failure appeared impossible--yet that telegram which captain scott had received at melbourne: "beg leave to inform you proceeding antarctic. ----amundsen." we all knew that amundsen had no previous antarctic sledging experience, but no one could deny that to norwegians ice-work, and particularly ski-ing, was second nature, and here lay some good food for thought and discussion. where would the "fram" enter the pack? where would amundsen make his base? the answers never once suggested anything like the truth. actually on new year's day amundsen was between 500 and 600 miles north of us, but of roald amundsen more anon. how strange to be once more in open water, able to steer whatever course we chose, with broad daylight all night, and at noon only a couple of days' run from cape crozier. practically no ice in sight, but a sunlit summer sea in place of the pack, with blue sky and cumulo stratus clouds, so different from the gray, hard skies that hung so much over the great ice field we had just forced. the wind came fair as the day wore on and by 10 p.m. we were under plain sail, doing a good six knots. high mountains were visible to the west-ward, part of the admiralty range, two splendid peaks to be seen towering above the remainder, which appeared to be mounts sabine and herschell. coulman island was seen in the distance during the day. what odd thrills the sight of the antarctic continent sent through most of us. land was first sighted late on new year's eve and i think everybody had come on deck at the cry "land oh!" to me those peaks always did and always will represent silent defiance; there were times when they made me shudder, but it is good to have looked upon them and to remember them in those post-war days of general discontent, for they remind me of the four antarctic voyages which i have made and of the unanimous goodwill that obtained in each of the little wooden ships which were our homes for so long. how infinitely distant those towering mountains seemed and how eternal their loneliness. as we neared cape crozier wilson became more and more interested. he was dreadfully keen on the beach there being selected as a base, and his enthusiasm was infectious. certainly scott was willing enough to try to effect a landing even apart from the advantage of having a new base. the cape crozier beach would probably mean a shorter journey to the pole, for we should be spared the crevasses which radiated from white island and necessitated a big detour being made to avoid them. as we proceeded the distant land appeared more plainly and we were able to admire and identify the various peaks of the snow-clad mountain range. the year could not have opened more pleasantly. we had church in a warm sun, with a temperature several degrees above freezing point, and most of us spent our off-time basking in the sunshine, yarning, skylarking, and being happy in general. we tried to get a white-bellied whale on the 2nd january, but our whale-gun did not seem to have any buck in it and the harpoon dribbled out a fraction of the distance it was expected to travel. the same glorious weather continued on january 2, and oates took five of the ponies on to the upper deck and got their stables cleared out. the poor animals had had no chance of being taken from their stalls for thirty-eight days, and their boxes were between two and three feet deep with manure. the four ponies stabled on the upper deck looked fairly well but were all stiff in their legs. rennick took soundings every forty or fifty miles in the ross sea, the depth varying from 357 fathoms comparatively close up to cape crozier to 180 fathoms in latitude 73 degrees. cape crozier itself was sighted after breakfast on the 3rd, and the great ice barrier appeared like a thin line on the southern horizon at 11.30 that morning. we were close to the cape by lunch time, and by 1.30 we had furled sail in order to manoeuvre more freely. the "terra nova" steamed close up to the face of the barrier, then along to the westward until we arrived in a little bay where the barrier joins cape crozier. quite a tide was washing past the cliff faces of the ice; it all looked very white, like chalk, while the sun was near the northern horizon, but later in the afternoon blue and green shadows were cast over the ice, giving it a softer and much more beautiful appearance. ponting was given a chance to get some cinema films of the barrier while we were cruising around, and then we stopped in the little bay where the ice barrier joins cape crozier, lowered a boat, and captain scott, wilson, myself, and several others went inshore in a whaler. we were, however, unable to land as the swell was rather too heavy for boat work. we saw an emperor penguin chick and a couple of adult emperors, besides many adã¨lie penguins and skua-gulls. we pulled along close under the great cliffs which frown over the end of the great ice barrier. they contrasted strangely in their blackness with the low crystal ice cliffs of the barrier itself. in one place we were splashed by the spray from quite a large waterfall, and one realised that the summer sun, beating down on those black foothills, must be melting enormous quantities of ice and snow. a curious ozone smell, which must have been the stench of the guano from the penguin rookeries, was noticed, but land smells of any sort were pleasant enough now for it brought home to us the fact that we should shortly embark on yet another stage of the expedition. pennell conned the ship close under the cliffs and followed the boat along the coast. the "terra nova" was quite dwarfed by the great rocky bluffs and we realised the height of the cliffs for the first time. whilst we were prospecting nelson obtained water-bottle samples and temperatures at 10, 50, 100, and 200 fathoms. the deep water apparently continued to the foot of the cliff in most places but there were two or three tiny steep beaches close to the junction of the barrier and ross island. captain scott being satisfied that no landing was possible, we in the boat returned to the ship and proceeded in her to the penguin rookery, a mile or so farther west. when half a mile from the shore, we found the bottom rapidly shoaling, the least depth being 9 1/2 fathoms. several small bergs were ashore hereabouts, but the swell breaking on the beach plainly told us that a landing was out of the question. after carefully searching the shore with glasses while the ship steamed slowly along it all, ideas of a landing were abandoned and we set course for mcmurdo sound. as soon as the ship was headed for her new destination we commenced to make a running survey of the coast to cape bird. this took until ten o'clock at night, and we found a great bight existed in ross island which quite changed its shape on the map. after 10 p.m. we ran into some fairly heavy pack ice, gave up surveying, and had a meal. i went up to the crow's-nest in order to work the ship to the best advantage, and spent eleven hours on end there, but the excitement of getting the "terra nova" round cape bird and into mcmurdo sound made the time fly. occasionally the ship crashed heavily as she charged her way through the ice masses which skirted the shore. whilst i conned the ship leadsmen sounded carefully, and i was able to work her close in to the coast near cape bird and avoid some heavy ice which we could never have forced. at 4.30 a.m. i broke through the cape bird ice-field and worked the ship on as far as cape royds, which was passed about 6.30 a.m. looking through our binoculars we noticed shackleton's winter hut looking quite new and fresh. leaving cape royds we made our way up mcmurdo's sound as far as inaccessible island, where we found the strait frozen over from east to west. skirting along the edge of the sea ice i found there was no way in, although i endeavoured to break into it at several points to reach what looked like open water spaces a mile or two from the ice edge. accordingly, we stopped and i came down to report on the outlook. captain scott, wilson, and i eventually went aloft to the cross-trees and had a good look round; we finally decided to land and look at a place where there appeared to be a very good beach. in "discovery" days this spot was known as the skuary, being a favourite nesting place for skua-gulls, a sort of little cape. i piloted the ship as close i could to this position, which is situate midway between cape bird and cape armitage on ross island. an ice anchor was laid out and then scott, wilson, and i landed on the sea ice and walked a mile or so over it to the little cape in question. it appeared to be an ideal winter quarters, and was then and there selected as our base. captain scott named it cape evans, after me, for which i was very grateful. wilson already had a cape named after him on the victoria land coast in latitude 82 degrees. we now returned on board and immediately commenced landing motor sledges, ponies, etc. for better working, once the various parties were landed, we adopted the standard time of meridian 180 degrees, in other words, twelve hours fast on greenwich mean time. we now organised ourselves into three parties and i gave up the command of the "terra nova" to pennell till the ship returned from new zealand next year. the charge of the transport over the one and a half miles of sea ice which lay between the ship and shore was given to campbell, whilst i took charge of the base station, erection of huts, and so forth, captain scott himself supervising, planning and improving. we continued getting stuff out on the ice until late at night, and by dinner time, 7 p.m., we had put two motor sledges, all the dogs and ponies ashore, besides most of the ordinary sledges and tents. next day we turned out all hands at 4.30, breakfasted at 5, started work at 6, and landed all the petrol, kerosene, and hut timber. most of the haulage was done by motors and men, but a few runs were made with ponies. we erected a big tent on the beach at cape evans and in this the hut-building party and those who were stowing stores and unloading sledges on the beach got their meals and sleep. we worked continuously until 10 p.m. with only the shortest of meal intervals, and then, tired but contented, we "flattened out" in our sleeping-bags, bunks, or hammocks. the following day the same routine was continued and nearly the whole of the provision cases came ashore and were stacked in neat little piles under bowers's direction. this indefatigable little worker now devoted himself entirely to the western party stores. he knew every case and all about it. each one weighed approximately 60 lb. we had purposely arranged that this should be so when ordering stores in london to save weight and space. the cases were made of venesta 3-ply wood. of course, the instruments and heavier scientific gear could not stow in these handy packages, but the sixty-pound-venesta was adhered to whenever possible. the ponies were not worked till the afternoon of the 6th, and then only the best of them with light loads. davis, the carpenter, had with him seaman ford, keohane, and abbot. their routine was a little different from ours: they worked at hut building from 7 a.m. till midnight usually, and their results were little short of marvellous. odd people helped them when they could, and of these pouting showed himself to be _facile princeps_ as carpenter. i never saw anything like the speed in which he set up tongued and grooved match boarding. day, nelson, and lashly worked with the motor sledges; the newest motor frequently towed loads of 2500 lb. over the ice at a six mile an hour speed. the oldest hauled a ton and managed six double trips a day. day, the motor engineer, had been down here before--both he and priestley came from the shackleton expedition. the former had a decidedly comic vein which made him popular all round. from start to finish day showed himself to be the most undefeated sportsman, and it was not his fault that the motor sledges did badly in the end. perhaps my diary from january 7, 1911, to the 8th gives a good idea of the progress we were making with the base station and of the general working day here. it reads as follows: "_saturday, january_ 7, 1911. "all hands hard at work landing stores. meares and dimitri running dog teams to and fro for light gear. "captain scott, dr. wilson, griffith taylor, debenham, cherry-garrard, and browning leading ponies. campbell, levick, and priestley hauling sledges with colossal energy and enormous loads, the majority of the ship's party unloading stores; bowers, two seamen, atkinson, and i unloading sledges on the beach and carrying their contents up to their assigned positions, simpson and wright laying the foundations for a magnetic hut, and so on. every one happy and keen, working as incessantly as ants. i took on the job of ice inspector, and three or four times a day i go out and inspect the ice, building snow bridges over the tide cracks and thin places. the ice, excepting the floe to which the ship is fast, is several feet thick. the floe by the 'terra nova' is very thin and rather doubtful. we, ashore, had dinner at 10 p.m. and turned in about 11." but the following day, although included here, was by no means typical. "_sunday, january_ 8. "this morning a regrettable accident took place. the third and newest motor sledge was hoisted out and, while being hauled clear on to the firm ice, it broke through and sank in deep water. campbell and day came in with the news, which captain scott took awfully well. "it was nobody's fault, as simpson and campbell both tested the floe first and found it quite thick and apparently good. however, there it is, in about 100 fathoms of water. "we stopped sledging for the day and those on board shifted the ship by warping, but could not get her into a satisfactory billet, so raised steam. "we spent the day working on the hut and putting chairs and benches together. captain scott put the sledge meters together and i helped him. these are similar to the distance meters on motor-cars. they register in nautical miles (6084 feet) and yards, to 25 yards or less by interpolation. "took a true bearing and found the approximate variation for simpson (149 degrees e.)." on the following day those on board the ship shifted her to a new position alongside the fast ice, just under a mile from our beach. the transportation of stores continued and we got ashore a great number of bales of compressed fodder, also some crown preserve patent fuel. as there was nothing much to do on the beach my party lent a hand with the landing of fodder, and i led the ponies miki, jehu, and blossom; the latter, having suffered greatly on the outward voyage, was in poor condition. still, most of the ponies were doing well, and at night were picketed on a snowdrift behind the hut. they occasionally got adrift, but i usually heard them and got up to make them fast, my small sleeping-tent being right alongside their tethering space. nelson continued working with me unless the requirements of his biological work called him away. in less than a week we had the whole of our stores and equipment landed, and from the beginning many of us took up our quarters at cape evans itself. we pitched several small tents on the beach; and it was an agreeable change to roll up and sleep in a fur bag after the damp, cold berths we had occupied in the ship. teddy nelson became my particular friend in the shore party and shared a sledging tent with me. the rest of the shore staff paired off and slept in the small tents, while captain scott had one to himself. we called it the "holy of holies," and from the privacy of this tiny dwelling scott issued his directions, supervised, planned, and improved whenever improvement could be made in anything. he had a marvellous brain and a marvellous way of getting the best possible work out of his subordinates, still he never spared himself. one did with extraordinary little sleep, and in the sunny days it became necessary to leave tent doors wide open, otherwise the close-woven wind-proof tent cloth kept all the fresh air out and one woke with a terrific head. to rightly get hold of our wintering place one must imagine a low spit of land jutting out into a fiord running, roughly north and south and bounded on both sides by a steep-to coast line indented with glaciers of vast size. here and there gigantic snow-slopes were to be seen which more gradually lowered into the sea, and all around ice-covered mountains with black and brown foothills. a few islands rose to heights of 300 or 400 feet in mcmurdo sound, and these had no snow on them worth speaking of even in the winter. the visible land was of black or chocolate-brown, being composed of volcanic tuff, basalts, and granite. there were occasional patches of ruddy brown and yellow which relieved the general black and white appearance of this uninhabitable land, and close to the shore on the north side of cape evans were small patches of even gritty sand. in the neighbourhood of our cape hard, brittle rocks cropped up everywhere, rocks that played havoc with one's boots. sloping up fairly steeply from cape evans itself we had more and more rock masses until a kind of rampart was reached, on which one could see a number of extraordinary conical piles of rock, which looked much as if they had been constructed by human hands for landmarks or surveying beacons--these were called debris cones. this part above and behind cape evans was christened the ramp, and from it one merely had to step from boulders and stones on to the smooth blue ice-slope that extended almost without interruption to the summit of erebus itself. from the ramp one could gaze in wonder at that magnificent volcano, white lady of the antarctic, beautiful in her glistening gown of sparkling crystal with a stole of filmy smoke-cloud wrapped about her wonderful shoulders. we used to gaze and gaze at that constantly changing smoke or steam which the white lady breathes out at all seasons, and has done for thousands of years. those were such happy days during the first cape evans summer. for the most part we had hot weather and could wash in the thaw pools which formed from the melting snow, and even draw our drinking water from the cascades which bubbled over the sun-baked rock, much as they do in summer-time in norway. the progress made by davis and his crew of voluntary carpenters was amazing. one week after our arrival at the cape, nelson, meares, and i commenced to cut a cave out of the ice cap above our camp for stowing our fresh mutton in. when knock-off work-time came bowers, nelson, and i made our way over to the ship with a hundred gallons of ice from this cave to be used for drinking water, it all helped to save coal and nobody made a journey to or fro empty handed if it could be helped. once on board we took the opportunity to bath and shave. in this country it is certainly a case of "where i dines i sleeps," so after supper on board we coiled down in somebody's beds and slept till 5.30 next morning when we returned to camp and carried on all day, making great progress with the grotto, which was eventually lit by electric light. we had plenty of variety in the matter of work; one part of the grotto was intended for simpson's magnetic work, and this was the illuminated section. whenever people visited the ice caves we got them to do a bit of picking and hewing; even roping in captain scott, who did a healthy half-hour's work when he came along our way. scott and wilson got their hands in at dog-driving now, as i did occasionally myself. nobody could touch meares or dimitri at dog-team work, although later on cherry-garrard and atkinson became the experts. the hut was finished externally on january 12 and fine stables built up on its northern side. this complete, bowers arranged an annexe on the south side from which to do the rationing and provision issues. how we blessed all this fine weather; it was hardly necessary to wear snow glasses, in spite of so much sunshine, for the glare was relieved by the dark rock and sand around us. when all the stores had been discharged from the ship she lightened up considerably, and campbell then set to work to ballast her for pennell. meares amused the naval members of our party by asking, with a childlike innocence, "had they got all the cargo out of the steamer?" there was nothing wrong in what he said, but the "terra nova," royal yacht squadron--and "cargo" and "steamer"--how our naval pride was hurt! incidentally we called the sandy strand (before the winter snow came, and covered it, and blotted it all out) hurrah beach; the bay to the northward of the winter quarters we christened happy bay. although our work physically was of the hardest we lived in luxury for a while. nelson provided cocoa for captain scott and myself at midnight just before we slept. he used to make it after supper and keep it for us in a great thermos flask. we only washed once a week and we were soon black with sun and dirt but in splendid training. in the first three weeks my shore gang, which included the lusty canadian physicist, wright, carried many hundreds of cases, walked miles daily, dug ice, picked, shovelled, handed ponies, cooked and danced. outwardly we were not all prototypes of "the sentimental bloke," but occasionally in the stillness of the summer nights, we some of us unbent a bit, when the sun stood low in the south and all was quiet and still, and we did occasionally build castles in the air and draw home-pictures to one another, pictures of english summers, of river picnics and country life that framed those distant homes in gold and made them look to us like little bits of heaven--however, what was more important, the stores were all out of the "terra nova," even to stationery, instruments, and chronometers, and we could have removed into the hut at a pinch a week before we did, or gone sledging, for that matter, had we not purposely delayed to give the ponies a chance to regain condition. it was certainly better to let the carpenter and his company straighten up first, and in our slack hours we, who were to live in the palatial hut, got the house in order, put up knick-knacks, and settled into our appointed corners with our personal gear and professional impedimenta only at the last moment, a day or two before the big depot-laying sledge journey was appointed to start. simpson and ponting had the best allotments in the hut, because the former had to accommodate anemometers, barometers, thermometers, motors, bells, and a diversity of scientific instruments, but yet leave room to sleep amongst them without being electrocuted, while the latter had to arrange a small-sized dark room, 8 ft. by 6 ft. floor dimension, for all his developing of films and plates, for stowing photographic gear and cinematograph, and for everything in connection with his important and beautiful work as camera artist to the expedition. ponting likewise slept where he worked, so a bed was also included in the dark room. before moving the chronometers ashore pennell, rennick, and i myself took astronomical observations to determine independently the position of the observation spot on the beach at cape evans. the preliminary position gave us latitude 77 degrees 38 minutes 23 seconds s. longitude 166 degrees 33 minutes 24 seconds e., a more accurate determination was arrived at by running meridian distances from new zealand and taking occultations during the ensuing winter, for longitude: latitudes were obtained by the mean results of stars north and south and meridian altitudes of the sun above and below pole. before getting busy with the preliminaries for the big depot journey, i took stock of the fresh meat in the grotto. the list of frozen flesh which i handed over to clissold, the cook, looked luxurious enough, for it included nothing less than 700 lb. of beef, 100 sheep carcasses, 2 pheasants, 3 ox-tails, and 3 tongues, 10 lb. of sweetbread, 1 box of kidneys, 10 lb. of suet, 82 penguins, and 11 skua-gulls! the cooks' corner in the hut was very roomy, and, if my memory serves me aright, our cooking range was of similar pattern to one supplied to the royal yacht, "alexandra." on january 19 a snow road was made over to the ice foot on the south side of cape evans in order to save the ponies' legs and hoofs. the siberian ponies were not shod, and this rough, volcanic rock would have shaken them considerably. a great deal of the bay ice had broken away and drifted out of the sound, so that by the 20th the ship was only a few hundred yards from hurrah beach. this day rennick, smiling from ear to ear, came across the ice with the pianola in bits conveyed on a couple of sledges. he fixed it up with great cleverness at one end of the hut and it was quite wonderful to see how he stripped it on board, brought it through all sorts of spaces, transported it undamaged over ice and rocky beach, re-erected it, tuned it, and then played "home, sweet home." what with the pianola going all out, the gramophone giving us melba records, and the ship's company's gramophone squawking out harry lauder's opposition numbers, ponting cinematographing everything of interest and worthy of pictorial record, little anton rushing round with nosebags for the ponies, meares and dimitri careering with the dog teams over ice, beach, packing cases, and what not, sailors with coloured tam-o'-shanters bobbing around in piratical style, the hot sun beating down and brightening up everything, one might easily have imagined this to be the circus scene, in the great antarctic joy-ride film. everything ran on wheels in these days, and it was difficult to imagine that in three months there would be no sun, that this sweltering beach would be encrusted with ice, and that the cold, dark winter would be upon us. the 21st was quite an exciting day. captain scott woke me at 4 a.m. to tell me that the ship was in difficulties. i got up at once, called the four seamen, and with uncle bill we all went out on to the floe. the ice to which the ship was fast had broken away, and so we helped her re-moor with her ice-anchors. petty officer evans went adrift on the floe, but we got him back in the pram. we turned in again at 5.15 and set a watch, but at 6.30 the "terra nova" hoisted an ensign at the main, a pre-arranged signal, and so all hands again went out and got her ice anchors; she slipped the ends of the wire hawsers holding them and stood out into the sound. the ice was breaking up fast, a swell rolling in causing the big floes to grind and crunch in rather alarming fashion. fortunately, pennell had raised steam, which was just as well for before he got clear the ship was only half a cable from cape evans, which lay dead to leeward--she was well out of it. we took the wire hawsers, pram and ice anchors to our winter quarters and kept them in readiness for the ship's return, then had a delightful breakfast, with appetites sharpened from the early morning exercise and chill wind. afterwards we continued the preparations for the depot trip and got eight out of eleven sledges fitted up with the bulk of their gear and a portion of stores. at about 3 p.m. the "terra nova" came in, and just as she was turning to come alongside the fast ice she struck a rock with only twelve feet of water on it. this pinnacle, as it proved to be, lay within twenty feet of a sounding of eleven fathoms. pennell immediately sounded all round, shifted several tons weight aft, and with the engines going full speed astern, he made his crew run from side to side and roll ship. scott sent me out in the whaler with a party to assist the ship; we sounded all round and quickly made a plan of the relative disposition of the soundings round the "terra nova." however, as we finished, the ship moved astern and successfully floated, the crew gave three cheers, and we cheered lustily from the whaler. pennell, as usual, was quite equal to the occasion when the ship struck; he was absolutely master of the situation, cool, decided, and successful. i was thankful to see the ship floating again, for, unlike the "discovery" expedition, we had no plans for a relief ship. when i told captain scott that the "terra nova" had run ashore he took it splendidly. we ran down to the beach, and when we beheld the ship on a lee shore heeling over to the wind, a certain amount of sea and swell coming in from the northward, and with the ultimate fate of the expedition looking black and doubtful, scott was quite cheerful, and he immediately set about to cope with the situation as coolly as though he were talking out his plans for a sledge journey. after the "terra nova" got off this intruding rock she was steamed round to the edge of the fast ice, near the glacier tongue which juts out between cape evans and cape barne. we placed her ice-anchors, and after that wilson and i went on board and had a yarn with pennell, whom we brought back to tea. scott was awfully nice to him about the grounding and told him of his own experience in 1904, when the "discovery" was bumping heavily in a gale just after freeing herself from the ice at hut point. nelson, griffith taylor, meares, and day helped me with the sledge packing until 11.30 p.m. when we rolled into our bunks tired out and immediately fell asleep. the next day, a sunday, was entirely devoted to preparing personal gear for the depot journey: this means fitting lamp wick straps to our fur boots or finnesko, picking from our kits a proportion of puttees and socks, sewing more lamp wick on to our fur gloves so that these could hang from our shoulders when it was necessary to uncover our hands. we also had to fit draw-strings to our wind-proof blouses and adjust our headgear according to our individual fancy, and finally, tobacco and smokers' requisites would be added to the little bundle, which all packed up neatly in a pillow-slip. this personal bag served also as a pillow. chapter vi settling down to the polar life the following members were selected for the depot journey which captain scott elected to lead in person: wilson, bowers, atkinson, oates, cherry-garrard, gran, meares, ford, crean, keohane, and myself. it was decided to take eight pony-sledges and two dog-sledges, together with about a ton of pony food, sledging rations, dog biscuit, and paraffin to a position on the great ice barrier as far south as we could get before the first winter set in. this decision was arrived at by scott after consultation with oates and others, and, as will be seen by reference to the list of those chosen for the journey, none of the scientific staff were included except wilson himself. the ponies selected were either those in the best condition or the weaker beasts which from oates's viewpoint would hardly survive the rigours of the winter. apart from the animals picked for this journey, we had nine beasts left to be taken care of by the little russian, anton, and the trusty lashly, whose mechanical knowledge and practical ability were needed to help get the base station going. on january 3 i was sent on board with all the sledges, including two for a western geological reconnaissance and a small spare sledge for use in case of breakdown or accident to the depot-laying people. by this time no ice remained in the bay north of cape evans and the transport out to the "terra nova" had perforce to be done by boat. i was glad to have this chance of working out the errors and rates of our chronometer watches, and, although i was up at 5 a.m., i could not resist having a long yarn, which continued far into the night, with those never-to-be-forgotten friends of mine, campbell, pennell, rennick, and bruce, the worthy and delightful lieutenants of the expedition. like little bowers, pennell and rennick have made the supreme sacrifice, and only campbell, bruce and myself remain alive to-day. january 24 was a busy day. captain scott was fetched from the shore directly after breakfast, and at 10 a.m. the ship left for glacier tongue to shadow as it were, the string of white siberian ponies which were being led round over the fast ice in the bay to the southward of cape evans. on arriving at the tongue, pennell selected a nice, natural wharf to put his ship alongside, and, this done, i got a picketing line out on the ice for the horses and then got the sledges on to the glacier. it is as well here to describe glacier tongue briefly, since frequent reference will be made to that icy promontory in this narrative. glacier tongue lies roughly six miles to the s.s.e. of cape evans and is a remarkable spit of ice jutting out, when last surveyed, for four miles into mcmurdo sound. soundings showed that it was afloat for a considerable part of its length, and as scott found subsequently, a great portion of it broke adrift in the autumn or winter of 1911 and was carried by the winds and currents of the sound to a position forty miles w.n.w. of cape evans, where it grounded, a huge flat iceberg two miles in length. glacier tongue was an old friend of mine, for it was here in the 1902-4 relief expedition that the crew of the little "morning" dumped twenty tons of coal for the "discovery" to pick up on her way northward, when the time came for her to free herself from the besetting ice which held her prisoner off hut point. the ponies were marched to their tethering place without further accident than one falling through into the sea, but he was rescued none the worse. oates showed himself to advantage in managing the ponies: he was very fond of telling us that a horse and a man would go anywhere, and i believe if we sailor-men had had the bad taste to challenge him he would have hoisted one of those chinese ma[1] up to the crow's-nest! [1: chinese for horse.] we all had tea on board and then, after checking the sledge loads and ascertaining that nothing had been forgotten, the depot party started out with full loads and marched away from glacier tongue for seven miles, when our first camp was made on the sea ice. to commence with i went with meares and no. 1 dog-sledge; the dogs were so eager and excited that they started by bolting at a breakneck speed and, in spite of all that we could do, took us over the glacier edge on to the sea ice. the sledge capsized and both meares and i were thrown down somewhat forcibly. we caught the sledge, however, and got the dogs in hand after their initial energy had been expended. scott and wilson managed their dog sledge better as meares gave them a quieter team. it was about nine o'clock when we camped, meares, wilson, scott and i sharing a tent. uncle bill was cook, and i must say the first sledging supper was delightful. we went back to glacier tongue the next day to relay the fodder and dog biscuit which was to be depoted. we had brought the provisions for depot along the eve before. i went in with meares and nelson, who had come out on ski to "speed the parting guest." we had a rare treat all riding in on the dog sledge at a great pace. had lunch on board and then captain scott gave us an hour or two to ourselves, for it was the day of farewell letters, everybody sitting round the ward-room table sucking pens or pencils, looking very wooden-faced and nonchalant despite the fact that we were most certainly writing to our nearest and dearest, sending through our letters an unwritten prayer that we should be spared after steadfastly performing our alloted tasks with credit to our flag and with credit to those at whose feet we yearned to lay the laurels we hoped to win. even as i wrote my farewell letters captain scott, wilson, bowers, and nelson found time to write to my wife; scott's letter may well be included here for it shows his thoughtfulness and consideration: "_january_, 25, 1911, glacier tongue, mcmurdo sound. "dear mrs. evans,--i thought you might be glad to have a note to tell you how fit and well your good man is looking, his cheery optimism has already helped me in many difficulties and at the present moment he is bubbling over with joy at the 'delights' of his first sledge trip. "he will have told you all the news and the ups and downs of our history to date, and you will have guessed that he has always met the misfortunes with a smile and the successes with a cheer, so that very little remains for me to say--except that i daily grow more grateful to you for sparing him for this venture. i feel that he is going to be a great help in every way and that it will go hard if, with so many good fellows, we should fail in our objects. "before concluding i should really like to impress on you how little cause you have for anxiety. we have had the greatest luck in finding and establishing our winter quarters, and if i could go shopping to-morrow i should not know what to buy to add to our comfort. we are reaping a full reward for all those months of labour in london, in which your husband took so large a share--if you picture us after communication is cut off it must be a very bright picture, almost a scene of constant revelry, with your husband in the foreground amongst those who are merry and content--i am sure we are going to be a very happy family and most certainly we shall be healthy and well cared for. "with all kind regards and hopes that you will not allow yourself to be worried till your good man comes safely home again. "yours sincerely, "r. scott." i said my good-byes after an early tea to the fellows of the "terra nova" and also to the eastern party, the lieutenants saw me over the side, and i went away with a big lump in my throat, then nelson and i took out a 10-ft. sledge with 530 lb. of fodder on it--rather too heavy a load, but it all helped, and the sea ice surface was none too bad. we did not get to camp till 10.35 p.m.: meares, with his usual good-heartedness, came out from the tent and helped us in for the last miles or so. he had driven the dogs out with another load after tea time. uncle bill had a fine pemmican supper awaiting us. my job kept me in camp next day to adjust theodolites, but the rest of the party went out to bring the final relay of depot stores from the "terra nova." during the following days we relayed the depot stuff along to a position near the edge of the barrier, and whilst so engaged most of us found time to visit hut point. while captain scott was selecting the position for dumping a quantity of compressed fodder bales the remainder of the party dug the snow out of the old hut left by the discovery in 1904. it looked a very deserted place, and the difference between the two winter quarters, hut point and cape evans, was amazing. one could quite understand the first expedition here selecting hut point for its natural harbour, but for comfort and freedom from unwelcome squalls and unpleasant gusts of wind commend me to cape evans. never in my life had i seen anything quite so dreary and desolate as this locality. practically surrounded by high hills, little sunshine could get to the hut, which was built in a hollow. of course, we saw the place at its worst, for the best summer months had passed. the hut itself had been erected as a magnetic observatory and it contrasted shabbily with our 50-ft by 25-ft. palace. we did not finish clearing the snow away, although with so many willing workers we made considerable progress. in parts the midsummer sun had melted the snow, which in turn had re-frozen into blue ice, and this we found troublesome because the slender woodwork of the hut would not stand any heavy pick work. we christened the place on the barrier edge fodder camp, and it was the general opinion that we could risk leaving the bales of hay here until the depot stuff had been taken south. accordingly, all the more important stores were relayed on january 29 to a position two miles in from the barrier edge. whilst doing this relay work i went in with meares to hut point to bring out some 250 lb. of dog biscuit, and our dogs, being very fresh, scented a seal, took charge of the light sledge, and, in spite of all the brakeing and obstructing meares and i put up, the dogs went wildly forward until they reached the seal. the second they came to it meares and i found ourselves in the midst of a snapping, snarling, and biting mixture, with the poor seal floundering underneath. while we were beating the dogs off the seal bit meares in the leg; he looked awfully surprised and showed great forbearance in not giving the seal one for himself with the iron-shod brake stick. i never saw anybody less vicious in nature than "mother" meares: he never knocked the dogs about unless it was absolutely necessary. even osman, the wild wolf-like king-dog, showed affection for him. whilst moving the sledging stores to safety camp, as we called the depot, two miles in, we came across two tents left by shackleton two or three years before. they contained a few stores and a primus stove, which proved to be most useful later on. on january 30 and 31 we completed the depot at safety camp and then reorganised the depot party, owing to atkinson's developing a very sore heel, which made it impossible for him to accompany us. it did not matter very much, because we had heaps of people to work the depot-laying journey, only it meant a disappointment for atkinson, which he took to heart very much. the question of sledging experience made us wish to have atkinson on this trip, but he gained it a few weeks later. accordingly, i took over crean's pony, blossom, whilst he took charge of our sick man and returned with him to hut point. scott himself took atkinson's pony, and on the 2nd february the caravan proceeded in an e.s.e. direction to make for a point in approximately 78 degrees s. 169 degrees e. most of the ponies had 600 lb. leads on their sledges, meare's dog team 750, and wilson's 600. we found the surface very bad, most of the ponies sinking deep in the snow. after doing roughly five miles we halted and had a meal. oates was called into our tent and consulted with a view to bettering the conditions for the ponies. as a result it was decided to march by night and rest during the day when the sun would be higher and the air warmer. there was quite a drop in the temperature between noon and midnight, and it was natural to suppose that we should get better and harder surfaces with the sun at its lower altitude. we still, of course, had the sun above the horizon for the full twenty-four hours, and should have for three weeks yet; the choice was altogether a wise one and we therefore turned in during the afternoon and remained in our sleeping-bags until 10 p.m. when we arose and cooked our breakfast. camp was broken at midnight and the march resumed. for three hours we plodded along, a little leg weary perhaps, on account of the unusual time for marching and working physically. we had lunch about 3 a.m. and rested the ponies for a couple of hours. the surface was still very bad, the ponies labouring heavily, and my own animal, blossom, suffered through his hoofs being very small, so that he sank into the snow far more than did the other horses. it was on his account that we only covered nine miles. i did some surveying work after our 7.30 a.m. supper and turned in at 10 o'clock until 7 p.m. captain scott took over cook in our tent and made the breakfast. for the next few days we continued marching over the great ice barrier, the distances covered depending on the condition of blossom and another pony, blã¼cher. both of these animals caused anxiety from the start, and, owing to their weakness the depot-laying distances scarcely exceeded ten miles daily. there is nothing to be gained from a long description of this autumn journey, it was merely a record of patiently trudging and of carefully watching over the ponies. generally speaking, the weather was not in our favour, the sky being frequently overcast, and we experienced an unpleasant amount of low drift. february 5 and 6 were blizzard days during which no move could be made, and it was not until nearly 11 p.m. on the 7th that the hard wind took off and the snow ceased to drift about us. the blizzards were not serious but were quite sufficient to try the ponies severely--blossom, blã¼cher, and a third animal, james pigg, could in no way keep up with the van, although their loads were lightened considerably. the bluejackets, forde and keohane, showed extraordinary aptitude in handling the ponies, but in spite of their efforts their animals were quite done up by february 12, as also was poor old blossom. it would have been cruel to continue with them, they were so wasted, and even their eyes were dull and lustreless. accordingly, scott decided to send blã¼cher, james pigg, and blossom back with forde, keohane, and myself. a reorganisation was made near the 79th parallel, and whilst the main party proceeded southward, forde, keohane, and i took our feeble ponies northward with the intention of getting them home to hut point before the temperature fell, until the cold would be too great for them to stand. it was annoying for me to be sent back, still there was plenty of survey work to be done between the turning-point and safety camp. blã¼cher failed from the start and lay down in the snow directly the depot party left us. forde lifted him up, but his legs were limp and would not support him. we rubbed the poor pony's legs and did what we could for him, poor old forde being practically in tears over the little beast. to give one an idea of this wretched animal's condition, when it was decided to kill him for humanity's sake and his throat was cut by keohane with a sailor's knife, there was hardly any blood to let out. it was a rotten day for all three of us, blowing too hard to travel until very late, and a second pony, blossom, was doing his best to die. we made some little way homeward, keohane, james pigg and myself pulling the sledge with our gear on it, and forde lifting, carrying, and pushing blossom along. i felt i ought to kill this animal but i knew how angry and disappointed scott would be at the loss, so kept him going although he showed so much distress. it was surprising what spirit the little brute had: if we started to march away blossom staggered along after us, looking like a spectre against the white background of snow. we kept on giving him up and making to kill him, but he actually struggled on for over thirty miles before falling down and dying in his tracks. we built a snow-cairn over him and planted what pony food we had no further use for on the top of the cairn. the third pony, james pigg, was kept fit and snug under a big snow-wall whenever we were not marching, and he won home to safety camp with very little trouble, frequently covering distances equal to our own marching capability. once safety camp had been regained we got good weather again and james pigg became quite frisky, ate all that we could give him, and, to our delight, his eyes regained their brightness and he began to put on flesh. we spent a couple of days at safety camp before captain scott returned with the dog teams. in order to cut off corners he shaved things rather fine, and getting rather too close to white island, the dog teams ran along the snow-bridge of a crevasse, the bridge subsided, and all the dogs of scott's and meares's sledge, with the exception of osman, the leader, and the two rear animals, disappeared into a yawning chasm. scott and meares secured their sledge clear of the snow bridge and with the assistance of their companions, wilson and cherry-garrard, who had the other team, they were lowered by means of an alpine rope into the crevasse until they could get at the dogs. they, found the poor animals swinging round, snapping at one another and howling dismally, but in an awful tangle. the dogs were rescued a pair at a time and, fortunately for all concerned, they lay down and rested when hauled up to the surface by uncle bill and "cherry." when all the animals were up and scott and meares themselves had regained safety, a dog fight took place between the two teams. apart from this excitement things had gone very well. scott was most enthusiastic about the capabilities of meares's dogs, and he then expressed an opinion that he would probably run the dogs light on the polar journey and do the final plateau march to the pole itself with them. what a pity he didn't! had he done so he might have been alive to-day. we learnt from the dog-drivers that the depot had been established in 79 degrees 30 minutes s. 169 degrees e., practically one hundred and fifty miles distant from the base, and here a ton or so of sledging stores awaited us preparatory for the great sledge journey to the pole. bowers, oates, and gran had been left to build up the depot and lead back the other five ponies with their empty sledges. we waited for them at safety camp before transporting some of the stuff we had left here out to corner camp, the position thirty-five miles e.s.e. of safety camp, where the crevasses ended. some of us went into hut point to see if the ship had been there with any message. little did we dream whilst we sauntered in over the ice of the news that awaited us. we found that the "terra nova" had been there the day before atkinson and crean had got there; she had also made a second visit on the 9th or 10th february, bringing the unwelcome news that amundsen's expedition had been met with in the bay of whales. the "terra nova" had entered the bay and found the "fram" there with the norwegians working like ants unloading their stores and hut-building in rather a dangerous position quite close to the barrier edge. amundsen's people had about 120 dogs and a hard lot of men, mostly expert ski-runners. they were contemplating an early summer journey to the pole and not proposing to attempt serious scientific work of any sort. further, to our chagrin, the eastern party had not effected a landing, for campbell realised that it would be profitless to set up his base alongside that of the norwegians. the ice conditions about king edward vii. land had been found insuperable, great masses of land ice barring the way to their objective, and so poor campbell and his mates left news that they were reluctantly seeking a landing elsewhere. we spent a very unhappy night, in spite of all attempts to be cheerful. clearly, there was nothing for us but to abandon science and go for the pole directly the season for sledging was advanced enough to make travelling possible after the winter. it now became a question of dogs versus ponies, for the main bulk of our stuff must of necessity be pony-drawn unless we could rely on the motor sledges--nobody believed we could. however, all the arguing in the world wouldn't push amundsen and his dogs off the antarctic continent and we had to put the best face on our disappointment. captain scott took it very bravely, better than any of us, i think, for he had done already such wonderful work down here. it was he who initiated and founded antarctic sledge travelling, it was he who had blazed the trail, as it were, and we were very very sorry for him, for such news, such a menace, could hardly be expected to give him a happy winter. scott did the best thing under the circumstances: he set us all to work on the 23rd february to get out three weeks' men provisions for eight men from the stores at safety camp, and these collected and packed, he, cherry-garrard, and crean took a 10-ft. sledge, and forde, atkinson, and myself a 12-ft. one, while keohane and james pigg pulled another big sledge containing oats and paraffin, and we all set out in a bunch for corner camp, thirty odd miles away. all this depot work meant an easy start next season, since the transport of great loads over sea ice and the deep, soft snow, which is usually encountered when first getting on to the barrier hereabouts, would strain the ponies' legs and break the hearts of the dogs. scott thought all this out and certainly overcame preliminary difficulties by getting so much pony food, provision, and paraffin out to one ton camp and corner camp. he felt the benefit next springtime. this second little run out is not worth describing; we sighted bowers's party coming back with the five ponies whilst we were camped one night, and we noted that they were travelling very quickly, which proved all was well with these animals. on arrival at corner camp scott left us in order to get back and see the five ponies safely conducted to hut point. he instructed me to make easy marches with our friend james pigg as there was no further work for him this season. cherry-garrard and crean accompanied scott, and the three pushed on at their utmost for blizzard weather had come again and the snow fall was considerable. we must now follow captain scott's and bowers's party, who, in conjunction, engaged on the problem of getting five ponies and two dog teams to hut point. there did not seem to be anything in doing this, but if ever a man's footsteps were dogged by misfortune, they surely were our leader's. scott sent cherry-garrard and crean with bowers and four ponies across the sea ice from the barrier edge to reach hut point on march 1. he himself had remained with oates and gran to tend the pony weary willie, a gutless creature compared to the others, which was showing signs of failing. weary willie died for no apparent reason, unless his loss of condition was due to the blizzards we encountered on the depot journey. bowers and co. made a good start, but the ponies they had were undoubtedly tired and listless after their hard journey, they were also in bad condition and frequently had to be rested. when they had advanced some way towards hut point over good strong sea ice, cracks became apparent and a slight swell showed bowers that the sea ice was actually on the move. directly this was appreciated his party turned and hastened back, but the ice was drifting out to sea. the ponies behaved splendidly, jumping the ever widening cracks with extraordinary sagacity, whilst bowers and his two companions launched the sledges over the water spaces in order not to risk the ponies' legs. eventually they reached what looked like a safe place and, since men and ponies were thoroughly exhausted, camp was pitched and the weary party soon fell asleep, but at 4.30 the next morning bowers awoke hearing a strange noise. he opened the tent and found the party in a dreadful plight--the ice had again commenced to break up and they were surrounded by water. one of the ponies had disappeared into the sea. camp was again struck and for five hours this plucky little party fought their way over three-quarters of a mile of drifting ice. they never for an instant thought of abandoning their charge, realising that scott's polar plans would in all probability be ruined if four more ponies were lost with their sledges and equipment. crean, with great gallantry, went for support, clambering with difficulty over the ice. he jumped from floe to floe and at last climbed up the face of the barrier from a piece of ice which swung round in the tideway and just touched the ice cliff at the right moment. cherry-garrard stayed with bowers at his request, for this undaunted little seaman would never give up his charge while a gleam of hope remained. for a whole day these two were afloat on a floe about 150 ft. square, all the ice around was broken up into similar floes, which were rising and falling at least a foot to the heavy swell. a moderate breeze was blowing from the eastward, and nothing was visible above the haze and frost smoke except the tops of two islands named white and black islands, and the hills around hut point. whilst crean was clambering over bits of ice and jumping by means of connecting pieces from one big floe to another, his progress was watched by bowers through the telescope of a theodolite. one can gather how delighted bowers must have been to see crean eventually high up on the barrier in the distance, for it meant that he would communicate with captain scott, whose intelligent, quick grasp, in emergency would surely result in gran being despatched on ski over to cape evans, for he alone could do this. once there, a boat could have been launched and the floe party rescued. bowers's satisfaction was short-lived, however, since killer whales were noticed cruising amongst the loose ice, and these soon became numerous, some of them actually inspecting the floe by poking their noses up and taking an almost perpendicular position in the water, when their heads would be raised right above the floe edge. the situation looked dangerous, for the whales were evidently after the ponies. the wind fell light as the day progressed and the swell decreased and vanished altogether. this fortunately resulted in the floes closing near to the barrier, and the open water spaces decreased then to such a degree that the party were able to bridge the cracks by using their sledges until they worked the whole of their equipment up to the barrier face, where bowers and cherry-garrard were rescued by scott, oates, gran, and crean. after a further piece of manoeuvring a pony and all the sledges were recovered, the three other ponies were drowned. only those who have served in the antarctic can realise fully what bowers's party and also scott's own rescue party went through. the incident which terminated in the loss of three more of our ponies cast a temporary gloom over the depot party when we reassembled in the safety of the old ramshackle magnetic lean-to at hut point. i use the word lean-to because one could hardly describe it as a hut, for the building was with out insulation, snow filled the space between ceiling and roof, and whenever a fire was kindled or heat generated, water dripped down in steady pit-a-pat until there was no dry floor space worth the name. it might be interesting to touch on the experiences of our friend james pigg, for this pony can only be described as a quaint but friendly little rogue. he and keohane seemed to have their own jokes apart from us. we were left to ourselves on the 27th february, while scott, as stated, pushed forward to safety camp, "we," meaning atkinson, forde, keohane, and myself. we were kept in camp on the 27th by a strong blizzard, and the next day when the weather abated, during our forenoon march james pigg fell into a crevasse, quite a small one, and his girth, through so much high feeding, jammed him by his stomach and prevented him falling far down. the whole situation was ridiculous. we parbuckled him out by means of the alpine rope, which was quickly detached from the sledge, james pigg taking a lively interest in the proceedings, and finally rolling over on his back and kicking himself to his feet as we four dragged him up to the surface. this done, keohane looking very irish and smiling, bent over and peered down into the bluey depths of the crevasse and, to our intense amusement, james pigg strolled over alongside of him and hung his head down too. he then turned to keohane, who patted his nose and said, "that was a near shave for you, james pigg!" we got to safety camp on the evening of march 1 and found two notes from captain scott directing us to make for hut point via castle rock, and notifying us that the sea ice was all on the move. we had an interesting climb next day, but a very difficult one, for we were on the go from 9 a.m. until after 11 that night. first we found our way over the barrier ice to the foot of the slope leading up to the ice ridge northward of castle rock. here we tethered james pigg and spent some hours getting our gear and sledges up the slope. we had no crampons for this work as they were all on scott's own sledge, so that it was necessary at times to pull up the slopes on hands and knees, assisted by our ski sticks, an unusual procedure but the only one possible to employ on the steeper blue ice. we took the sledges up one by one and then went down with an alpine rope to help james pigg. we found the pony very bored at our long absence; he neighed and whinnied when we came down to him, and, to our great surprise, went up the long, steep slope with far greater ease than we did ourselves. it was out of the question for us to proceed the four and a half miles along the ridges which led down to hut point, for darkness had set in and we had no wish to repeat the performance of an earlier expedition when a man lost his life hereabouts through slipping right over one of these steep slopes into the sea on the western side of the promontory ridge which terminates at hut point. it was snowing when we turned in and still snowing on march 3 when we turned out of our sleeping-bags. james pigg, quite snug, clothed in his own, blossom's, and blã¼cher's rugs, had a little horseshoe shelter built up round him. we did not know at this time of the pony disaster, but, thinking captain scott might be anxious if he got no word as to our whereabouts or movements, atkinson and i started to march along the ice ridges of castle rock and make our way to hut point. it was blowing hard and very cold, but the joy of walking on firm ice without a sledge to drag was great. when finally we came to the old "discovery" hut at lunch time, we found wilson, meares, and gran in very low spirits. they told us that bowers and cherry-garrard were adrift on an ice floe and the remainder of the party had gone to the rescue along the barrier edge. we were much downcast by this news, and after a meal of biscuit and tea, started back for our camp. the weather was now clearer, and we could see some way out over the barrier; we could also see the sea looking very blue against the white expanse of ice. on the way back we discussed a plan and arranged that we should leave keohane with the pony, take a sledge, and make our way along the ice edge of the barrier searching for scott and joining up with him, but just before descending to the hollow where our tent was we spied a sledge party on the barrier and, on reaching our camp, were delighted to see through my telescope six men. thank god! this meant that all were safe. we went out to meet the party, reaching them about 8 p.m. where they had camped, a couple of miles from cape armitage, between two pressure ridges that formed great frozen waves. bowers told me that when scott's party attempted to save the horses at the barrier edge, rotten ice and open water leads were the cause of their downfall, and when the horses slipped into the sea, that he had been compelled to kill his own pony with a pickaxe to save him being taken alive by one of the orcas or killer whales. the only horse saved was captain scott's, one of the best we had in that expedition. i think the irish sailors must have spoilt james pigg, for, when eventually we got scott's sledge loads up to the hill-crest where our camp was, james pigg, instead of welcoming the other pony, broke adrift, and jumping into the new-comer's shelter, leapt on him, kicked him and bit him in the back. on march 5 we all started for hut point, having previously sent in atkinson with the good news that no men's lives were lost. wilson and party met us near castle rock and led the ponies in while we dropped the laden sledges, full of pony harness, tents, and sledging gear, with a sufficiency of pony fodder for a fortnight, down the ski-slope to hut point. it was a fine bit of toboganning and captain scott showed himself to be far more expert than any of us in controlling a sledge on a slippery slope. we soon got into the way of climbing around on seemingly impossible slopes and could negotiate the steepest of hills and the slipperiest of steep inclines. it was largely a question of good crampons, which we fortunately possessed. the month of march and the first half of april, 1911, proved to be the most profitless and unsatisfactory part of the expedition. this was due to a long compulsory wait at hut point, for we could not cross the fifteen miles that lay between our position there and the cape evans station until sea ice had formed, which could be counted on not to break away and take us into the ross sea in its northward drift. time after time the sea froze over to a depth of a foot or even more and time and again we made ready to start for cape evans to find that on the day of departure the ice had all broken and drifted out of sight. as it was, we were safely, if not comfortably, housed at hut point, with the two dog teams and the two remaining ponies, existing in rather primitive fashion with seal meat for our principal diet. by the end of the first week in march we had converted the veranda, which ran round three sides of the old magnetic hut, into dog and pony shelters, two inner compartments were screened off by bulkheads made of biscuit cases, a cook's table was somehow fashioned and a reliable stove erected out of petrol tins and scrap-iron. our engineers in this work of art were oates and meares. for a short while we burnt wood in the stove, but the day soon came when seal blubber was substituted, and the heat from the burning grease was sufficient to cook any kind of dish likely to be available, and also to heat the hut after a fashion. round the stove we built up benches to sit on for meals, and two sleeping spaces were chosen and made snug by using felt, of which a quantity had been left by scott's or shackleton's people. the "soldier" and meares unearthed same fire bricks and a stove pipe from the debris heap outside the hut and then we were spared the great discomfort of being smoked out whenever a fire was lit. an awning left by the "discovery" was fixed up by several of us around the sleeping and cooking space, and although rather short of luxuries such as sugar and flour, we were never in any great want of good plain food. on march 14 the depot party was joined by griffith taylor, debenham, wright, and petty officer evans. taylor's team had been landed by the "terra nova" on january 27, after the start of the depot party, to make a geological reconnaissance. in the course of their journeying they had traversed the ferrar glacier and then come down a new glacier, which scott named after taylor, and descended into dry valley, so called because it was entirely free from snow. taylor's way had led him and his party over a deep fresh-water lake, four miles long, which was only surface frozen--this lake was full of algae. the gravels below a promising region of limestones rich in garnets were washed for gold, but only magnetite was found. when taylor had thoroughly explored and examined the region of the glaciers to the westward of cape evans, his party retraced their footsteps and proceeded southward to examine the koettlitz glacier. scott had purposely sent seaman evans with this party of geologists, reasoning with his usual thoughtfulness that evans's sledging experience would be invaluable to taylor and his companions. taylor and his party made wonderful maps and had a wonderful store of names, which they bestowed upon peak, pinnacle, and pool to fix in their memories the relative positions of the things they saw. griffith taylor had a remarkable gift of description, and his antarctic book, "the silver lining," contains some fine anecdotes and narrative. according to taylor's chart the koettlitz glacier at its outflow on to the great ice barrier is at least ten miles wide. the party proceeded along the north of the glacier for a considerable distance, sketching, surveying, photographing, and making copious notes of the geological and physiographical conditions in the neighbourhood, and one may say fearlessly that no antarctic expedition ever sailed yet with geologists and physicists who made better use of the time at their disposal, especially whilst doing field work. this party hung on with their exploration work until prudence told them that they must return from the koettlitz glacier before the season closed in. their return trip led them along the edge of the almost impenetrable pinnacle of ice which is one of the wonders of the antarctic. their journey led them also through extraordinary and difficult ice-fields that even surprised the veteran sledger evans. their final march took them along the edge of the great ice barrier and brought them to hut point on march 14. we now numbered sixteen at this congested station; the sun was very little above the horizon and gales were so bad that spray dashed over the small hut occasionally, whilst all round the low-lying parts of the coast wonderful spray ridges of ice were formed. we had our proportion of blizzard days and suffered somewhat from the cold, for it was rarely calm. some of us began to long for the greater comforts of the cape evans hut; there was no day, no hour in fact, when some one did not climb up the hillock which was surmounted by the little wooden cross put up in memory of seaman vince of the "discovery" expedition, to see and note the ice conditions. winter was coming fast and night shadows of cruel dark purple added to the natural gloom of hut point and its environments. wilson was the one man amongst us who profited most from our sojourn here. in spite of bad light and almost frozen fingers he managed to make an astonishing collection of sketches, portraying the autumn scenes near this corner of ross isle. how sinister and relentless the western mountains looked, how cold and unforgiving the foothills, and how ashy gray the sullen icefoots that girt this sad, frozen land. there was, of course, no privacy in the crowded hut-space, and when evening came it was sometimes rather a relief to get away to some sheltered corner and look out over the sound. the twilight shades and colours were beautiful in a sad sort of way, but the stillness was awful. whenever the wind fell light new ice would form which seemed to crack and be churned up with every cat's-paw of wind. the currents and tidal streams would slowly carry these pancakes of ice up and down the strait until the weather was calm enough and cold enough to cement them together till they formed floes, which in their turn froze fast into great white icefields strong enough to bear us and any weights we liked to take along. one often turned in, confident that a passage could be made over the frozen sea to glacier tongue at least, but in the morning everything would be changed and absolutely no ice would be visible floating in the sea. when taylor's party had rested a little at hut point they threw in their lot with the rest of us and made occasional trips out on the silent barrier as far as corner camp, to add sledge loads of provisions now and again to the stores already depoted there in readiness for the southern sledge journey, on which we built our hopes for ultimate triumph. eight of us went out for a week's sledging on march 16, but the temperatures were now becoming too low to be pleasant and touching 40 degrees or so below zero. what tried us more than anything else was thick weather and the fearfully bad light on days when no landmarks were visible to guide us to the depot. our sleeping-bags also were frozen and uncomfortable, thick rime collecting on the insides of our tents which every puff of wind would shake down in a shower of ice. when sitting round on our rolled-up sleeping-bags at meal times we could not help our heads and shoulders brushing off patches of this frost rime, which soon accumulated in the fur of the sleeping-bags and made life at night a clammy misery. the surfaces were very heavy, and dragging even light sledges when returning from the depot proved a laborious business. this autumn time gave a series of gales and strong winds with scarcely ever more than a few hours of calm or gentle breeze, sandwiched in between. sometimes we used ski, but there are occasions when ski are quite useless, owing to snow binding in great clogs underneath them. the norwegians use different kinds of paraffin wax and compositions of tar and other ingredients for overcoming this difficulty. gran had brought from christiania the best of these compositions, nevertheless there were days when whatever we put on we had difficulty with ski and had to cast them aside. there were people who preferred foot-slogging to ski at any time, and there were certainly days when teams on foot would literally dance round men pulling on ski. in the light of experience, however, the expert ski-runner has enormous advantage over the "foot-slogger," however good an athlete. what strikes me here is the dreadful similarity in weather condition, wind, temperature, etc., surface and visibility to that which culminated in the great disaster of our expedition and resulted in poor scott's death exactly a year later. here is a day taken haphazard from my diary: "from corner camp to hut point: "march 18, 1911.--called the hands at 6.15 and after a fine warming breakfast started off on ski. the light was simply awful and the surface very bad, but we did six miles, then lunched. after lunch carried on with a strong wind blowing, but after very heavy dragging we were forced to camp when only nine and a half miles had been laid between us--we really couldn't see ten yards. just after we camped the wind increased to about force 6, alternately freshening up and dying away, and a good deal of snow fell. temperature 32.5 below zero." one year later scott was facing weather conditions and surfaces almost identical, but the difference lay in that he had marched more than sixteen hundred miles, was short of food, and his party were suffering from the tragic loss of two of their companions and the intense disappointment of having made this great sledge journey for their country's honour to find that all their efforts had been in vain, and that they had been anticipated by men who had borne thither the flag of another nation. when scott found that we sledgers were getting temperatures as low as minus forty he decided to discontinue sledging rather than risk anything in the nature of severe frostbite assailing the party and rendering them unfit for further work, for it must be remembered that we had already been away from our base ten weeks, that many of us had never sledged before, and that the depot journey was partly undertaken to give us sledging experience and to point out what improvements could be made in our clothing and equipment. the first and second weeks in april brought the ice changes that we had so long awaited, and after one or two false starts two teams set out from hut point on april 11 to make their way across the fifteen miles of sea ice to cape evans. this turned out to be a somewhat hazardous journey, since it had to be made in the half light with overcast weather and hard wind. scott took charge of one tent and had with him bowers, griffith taylor, and petty officer evans, while i had in my party wright, debenham, gran, and crean. the seven who remained at hut point in charge of dogs and ponies helped us out a league or so for the first part of our journey. the route led first up the steep ice slope over-hanging hut point, and then to the summit of the ridge, which is best described as the castle rock promontory. our sojourn at hut point had given us plenty of chance to learn the easier snow roads and the least dangerous, and scott chose the way close eastward of castle rock to a position four miles beyond it, which his first expedition had named hutton cliffs. from castle rock onward the way took us to the westward of two conical hills which were well-known landmarks--a hitherto untrodden route--but the going was by no means bad. bitingly cold for faces and finger-tips, still, no weights to impede us. we camped for lunch after covering seven miles, for the light was bad, but it improved surprisingly whilst we were eating our meal. accordingly, we put on our crampons about 3 p.m. and struck camp, securely packing the two green tents on the sledges, and casting a careful eye round the loads, tightened a strap here, hitched there, and then led by scott we made a careful descent to the precipitous edge of the ice cap which overlays the promontory. we got well down to a part that seemed to overhang the sea and, to our delight, found a good solid-looking ice-sheet below us which certainly extended as far as glacier tongue. the drop here was twenty-five feet or so and taylor and i were lowered over the cornice in an alpine rope, then wright and then the sledges, after that the remainder of the party. an ash-pole was driven into the snow and the last few members sent down in a bowline at one end of the rope whilst we below eased them down with the other part. the two parts of the alpine rope working round the pole cut deeply into the over-hanging snow and brought a shower of ice crystals pouring over the heads and shoulders of whoever was sitting in the bowline. it was a good piece of work getting everything down safely, and i admired scott's decision to go over; a more nervous man would have fought shy because, once down on the sea ice there was little chance of our getting back and we had got to fight our way forward to cape evans somehow. when taylor and i got first down we were greeted with a weird and wonderful sight: constant drifts of snow had formed a great overhang and the ice cliff was wreathed in a mass of snowy curtains and folds which took all manner of fantastic turns and shapes. a fresh wind was blowing continuously that made it most unpleasant for those above, and it was a relief to us all when the last man was passed down in safety, it was scott himself. we quickly harnessed up again and swung out over the sea ice towards glacier tongue, the cliffs of which stood out in a hard, white line to the northward, a couple of miles away. arrived at the tongue, bowers and i clambered up a ten-foot cliff face by standing on wright's and crean's shoulders. we then reached down and hauled up the sledges and the others, harnessed up again, and proceeded to cross the glacier, which was full of small crevasses. we reached the northern side of it and went down an easy snow slope to the sea ice beyond. as far as one could see this ice continued right up to and around cape evans, seven miles away to the n.w. it was now 6.30 p.m.; scott halted us and discussed our readiness to make a night march into the winter quarters. there was not one dissentient voice, and we gladly started off at 8 o'clock for a night march to our snug and comfortable hut, picturing to ourselves a supper of all things luxurious. our feet seemed suddenly to have taken wings, but, alas, the supper was not to be, for thick weather set in, and when, by 10 o'clock the wind was blowing hard and it was pitch dark, scott suddenly decided to camp under the shelter of little razorback island, where by that time we had arrived. we passed a filthy night here, for the snow on the sea ice was saturated with brine and, in no time, our sleeping-bags became wet and sticky. next day we were called at six to find a blizzard with a high drift making it impossible to move, so we remained in our bags until 4 p.m., when we shifted on to the narrow platform of rock situated on the south side of little razorback. we had one small meal here, but our condition was not a pleasant one, since little food remained and fuel was short. there was undoubtedly a chance that the sea ice would break up and drift away in this high wind. had that happened we should have been left to starve on the tiny island. the position was not an enviable one. we got back into our bags, which were, as stated, wet and beastly, after a scanty supper and tried to sleep, but our feet were wet too, and cold, so that few of us could do more than close our eyes. the night passed slowly enough, and we turned out at 7 a.m. to cook what remained of our food before attempting to make cape evans. we were glad that it had stopped snowing and, although the light was bad enough, we could just make out the ice foot showing up bold and white on the south side of the cape. after the meal we struck camp, formed marching order, and started half running for winter quarters. covering a couple of miles we found, to our great relief, that the fast ice not only extended up to the cape but right round into north bay. we soon sighted the hut, and shortly after saw some people working outside. directly they saw us in they ran to bring the others out at full speed, and coming to meet us they cheered and greeted us, then hauled our sledges in. it appeared they were unable to recognise any of us owing to our dirty and dishevelled state. this was not to be wondered at, for we had not washed nor had we shaved for eighty days: we all talked hard and exchanged news. ponting lined us up to be photographed--the first nine bolshevists--we looked such awful blackguards. now, april 13, 1911, as communication had been established between hut point and cape evans, we settled down for the winter. i shall never forget the breakfast that clissold prepared for us at 10.30 that morning. it was delicious--hot rolls, heaps of butter, milk, sugar, jam, a fine plate of tomato soup, and fried seal cooked superbly. the meal over, we shaved, bathed, and put on clean clothes, smoked cigarettes, and took a day's holiday. at 10 o'clock that evening, by prearrangement, very's lights were fired to let them know at hut point of our safe arrival. our own signal was answered by a flare. gramophone records were dug out and we lazily listened to melba singing and to musical comedy tunes, those who had energy and sufficient inclination got the pianola going, and finally each man unfolded his little story to another member of the expedition who had taken no part in the sledging. captain scott was delighted at the progress made by those left in our hut under dr. simpson, everything was in order, the scientific programme in full swing, and nothing in the shape of bad news beyond the loss of an ill-tempered pony called hackenschmidt, and one more dog that appeared to have died from a peculiar disease--a minute thread-worm getting to his brain, this according to nelson who had conducted the post-mortem. chapter vii arrangements for the winter less than a fortnight from the day of our return to cape evans, on april 23 to be exact, the sun left us to remain below the horizon for four long weary months. of course, there was a considerable amount of twilight, and even on midwinter's day at noon there was some gray light in the north. different people took the winter in different fashion, according to their temperaments. there were some who never could have faced a second winter with any degree of cheerfulness, but taking it all round, we did well enough, and when summer came again our concrete keenness and zeal had not one whit abated. that is especially true in the case of those who were chosen to make the great journey southward, even though it was obvious that certain members could only accompany their leader for a mere fraction of the great white way. during the four months' winter darkness each one occupied himself with his special subject, and dr. wilson not only proved himself to be an efficient chief of our scientific staff, but a sound friend and companion to the executive members, bowers, oates, meares, and myself. uncle bill was our solomon and it was to him that we all went for sympathy and practical advice. it was to him the staff went, that is to say, the officers and scientists, for the smoothing over of those little difficulties, roughnesses, and unevennesses that were bound to arrive from time to time during the course of winter. the sailors came more to bowers, oates, and myself, for, in their conservative naval way, they could never quite get over the fact that the hut was not a ship and that there were other members who, although they had never come under any sort of naval or military discipline, were men of greater age and experience in fending for themselves than youngsters like bowers and myself. still, things went beautifully, and so they should have, when one considers the great care our leader had exercised in the selection of his personnel. if scott had had his choice again and if he had been allowed to select from the whole world, one can say without hesitation he would have chosen wilson to captain our splendid scientific team and to be his human book of reference. wilson was more nearly scott's own age than the other important members of this enterprise, and wilson, it must be remembered, had pulled shoulder to shoulder with scott on his southern sledge journey in 1902-3. before taking a peep at the individuals forming the rest of our party and at their delicate scientific work at the base station, i must not forget to mention that scott, with his indomitable energy, was away again four days after his return to cape evans with bowers, crean, and five fresh men to hut point for the dual purpose of replenishing that station with fuel, lighting material, etc., and getting those who should be at cape evans for certain work and duty back there. scott returned by the way we had come, i.e. the glacier tongue-castle rock route, and then left the dog-boy with meares to take charge of these animals, lashly and keohane to nurse and exercise the two ponies, and nelson and forde to get into the way of winter roughing it, besides which he left day over at hut point, where his clever fingers found plenty to do to ameliorate the condition of those living there. day had learnt much under shackleton in these parts, and by some of us he was nicknamed "handy andy." meares was now appointed "governor of hut point." as a matter of fact he and his dogs were better off here than at cape evans, because the dogs could use the big sheltered verandas already mentioned, whereas they had no such shelter at cape evans. scott was back in the hut by april 21, having left meares definite orders that james pigg and punch the ponies were not to leave hut point for cape evans until the entire journey could be made over the sea ice under conditions of absolute safety. this meant a wait of three weeks to a month before everything suited, and the "governor of hut point" did not come in until the 13th may, when he arrived in pomp and splendour with all the dogs and the two ponies fit and well--his party, black with soot and blubber, their wind-proof clothing smelly and greasy, a dirty but robust and cheerful gang. a glance at the accompanying plan shows whereabout we worked. starting at the left hand top corner we find simpson's laboratory, and we usually found simpson in it at work, always at work, except when he was engaged in scientific argument or when, just after lunch, he stretched himself out on his bunk at the end of a large cigar! simpson was no novice to work in the frigid zones, for he had already wintered within the arctic circle in northern norway. weather did not worry him much nor apparently did temperatures, for since his investigations midst the snows of the vikings' land, simpson had worked extensively in india. his enduring good humour and his smiling manner earned for him the sobriquet of sunny jim. in the first year the self-registering instruments that found themselves in simpson's corner, or in the small hut which contained his magnetic observatory, gave us an admirable record of temperatures, barometric pressures, wind force and direction, atmospheric electricity, sunshine when the sun did shine, and the elements of terrestrial magnetism. thanks to simpson, we also had investigations of the upper air currents, aurora observations, atmospheric optics, gravity determination and what is more, some fine practical teaching that enabled the various sledging units properly to observe and collect data of meteorological importance. simpson's place was essentially at the base station; and his consequent work as physicist and meteorologist prevented him from taking an active part in our sledge journeys. when he was recalled to simla in 1912 his work was ably continued by wright, our canadian chemist, who, as i have said elsewhere, accompanied us south to make a special study of ice structure and glaciation. wright lived in the bunk above simpson's, and when not devoting his energy and magnificent physique to sledging and field work, he gave himself up to the study of ice physics, a somewhat new scientific line of research. wright was originally introduced to the expedition by griffith taylor, and scott, advised by wilson, was so keen on the inclusion of this young canadian chemist in our scientific staff that really the study of ice structure and glaciation was made for wright and his science coined for him. he photographed ice flowers formed in the sea, he found out how long ice took to freeze down our way, cast aspersions on the bearing capabilities of our beloved sea ice and, generally, brought his intelligence to bear in a way that commanded the approbation of wilson and our chief. wright was one of the strongest members of our expedition, and he had the most powerful flow of language. he made some beautiful photographs of ice crystals and surprised the simple sailor like myself with his ability as a navigator and astronomer. moving along from wright and simpson we come to nelson and day. teddy nelson, our marine biologist, did both winters at cape evans, and he not only carried out biological work but studied the tides. his corner was pleasant to look upon, with its orderly row of enamelled and china trays and dishes. during the winter months holes were made in the sea ice through which were lowered tow-nets, for collecting drifting organisms and so on. special thermometers of german make were lowered by nelson through the ice holes to get sea temperatures, and likewise reversing water bottles were employed to obtain samples of sea-water daily. day, the motor engineer, was responsible for the lighting by acetylene. he was wonderfully clever as a mechanic and also a good carpenter. he took charge of our petrol, paraffin, and spirit store, and was never idle for a minute. moving along to the right we come to the last cubicle, where the "rubbleyubdugs" lived. these were tryggve gran, griffith taylor, and frank debenham. (all libel actions in connection with the ubdugs i am prepared to settle out of port in the long bar at shanghai.) quoting from the "south polar times": "'the ubdug burrow' is festooned with kodaks, candles and curtains; they (the ubdugs) are united by an intense love of the science of autobiography, their somewhat ambiguous motto is 'the pen is mightier than the sword, but the tongue licks them both!'" griffith taylor and debenham were both australians: the former was probably the wittiest man in the expedition, and, in my opinion, the cleverest contributor to the "south polar times," excepting of course the artistic side. the "south polar times" was our winter magazine, beautifully illustrated by wilson's water colours and ponting's photographs. taylor's motto was "advance, australia!"--most certainly he helped it to. people were always welcome in the ubduggery, where they seemed to have an unlimited supply of cigarettes and good novels. debenham was certainly nurse to the ubdugs, that is to say he was the least untidy, but then of course he was the smallest. in this cubicle the most voluminous of diaries were kept, and at least two books have been published therefrom. gran kept his diary mostly in norwegian, but there were many words coined in our expedition which had no scandinavian equivalent, and gran failed to translate them, in spite of his having more imagination than any one amongst us. crossing over the hut to the cubicle opposite one arrives at the somewhat congested space in which cherry-garrard was housed, with bowers above him. in their corner were store lists, books, and mystery bags which contained material for the "south polar times," toys and frivolous presents to liven us up at the midwinter and other festivities. bowers and cherry-garrard were, in a way, worse off than the others, for they had the darkest part of the hut, yet in this gloomy tenement all kinds of calculations were made and much other good work done. oates came next, with his bunk more free of debris than anybody else's, for he was the horse man, pure and simple, and his duties freed him from that superabundance of books, instruments, stationery, specimens, charts, and what-not with which we others had surrounded ourselves. any spare gear he kept in the saddle room, a specially cleared space in the stables, where he was assisted by the little russian groom, anton, who soon became devoted to his hard-working and capable master. the two men, so unlike in appearance and character, etc., and such miles apart in social standing and nationality, worked shoulder to shoulder in the stables throughout the long winter night. by the dim candle-light which illuminated our pony-shelter, one could see oates grooming his charges, clearing up their stall, refitting their harness, and fixing up the little improvements that his quick, watchful eye continually suggested. at the far end of his stables he had a blubber stove, where he used to melt ice for the ponies' drinking water and cook bran mashes for his animals. here he would often sit and help meares make dog pemmican out of seal meat--they made about 8 cwt. of this sustaining preparation. moving along from the chã¢teau, oates, meares's and atkinson's two bunks came next, meares above and atkinson below. these two sleeping berths likewise were not conspicuous by any superfluity of scientific oddments, for meares's work took him outside of the hut as a rule, unless he was engaged in making dog harness. meares and oates were the greatest friends, and these two, atkinson, cherry-garrard and bowers, were, if i remember rightly, known collectively as the bunderlohg. although numerically superior to their _vis-ã -vis_, the ubdugs, and always ready to revile them, the ubdugs kept their end up and usually came out victorious in discussions or in badinage. finally, the holy of holies, where captain scott and the library occupied one end and uncle bill and myself the far corner, with the ceaselessly ticking chronometers and many sledging watches. there was an air of sanctity about this part: all the plotting was done here, charts made and astronomical observations worked out. wilson worked up his sketches at the "plotting table," interviewed the staff here, and above his bunk kept a third of the shore party's library. we had two comfortable trestle beds up our end and our leader also had a bed in preference to the built-up bunk adopted by most of the afterguard. ours was the mayfair district: wilson and i lived in park lane in those days, whilst captain scott occupied grosvenor street! he had his own little table covered with "toney" green linoleum, and also had a multiplicity of little shelves on which to keep his pipes, tobacco, cigars, and other household gods. it was well illuminated in this part, and, although, hung around with fur mitts, fur boots, socks, hats and woollen clothing, there was something very chaste about this very respectable corner. for the rest of it we had our arctic library, and the spare spaces on the matchboard bulkhead, which fenced it on three sides, were decorated with photographs. in place of eiderdown scott's old uniform overcoat usually covered his bed, while peeping out from under his sleeping place one could espy an emblem of civilisation and prosperity in the shape of a very good suit-case. the foregoing pages illustrate sufficiently the grouping of the afterguard, and if one adds an anthracite stove, a 12 ft. by 4 ft. table, a pianola, gramophone, and a score of chairs, with a small shelf-like table squeezed in between the dark-room and simpson's corner, one completes the picture of the officers' quarters in the cape evans hut. a bulkhead of biscuit cases and so on divided us from the men's accommodation. they were very well off, each seaman having a trestle bed similar to captain scott's, unless he preferred to build a bunk for himself, as one or two did. they had a table 6 ft. by 4 ft., and the cook had a kitchen table 4 ft. square, and certainly no crew space was ever provided on a polar expedition that gave such comfortable and cosy housing room. chapter viii the winter closes in the closing down of the polar night was very swift now and the few hours of gray daylight were employed collecting what data was required by certain members for working on during the forthcoming days of darkness. young gran was handed over to me to help with the survey work and astronomical observations which had to be taken from time to time. he was a most entertaining assistant. without complaint, he stood patiently shivering in that cutting winter wind whilst i swung around the theodolite telescope and took angles for him to write down in my notebook. i don't think anybody has made a triangulated survey under conditions worse than we endured that epoch: the weather was beastly and we spent much time dancing when nearly sick with cold, our fingers tucked under our arms to recover their feelings. when one's extremities did get frost-bitten it was no joke--frost-bitten finger tips gave us little peace at night with their sharp burning pain. the most interesting part of the survey work was what is known to the surveyor as coast-lining. this meant walking along the edge of the sea ice, fixing one's position by sextant angle every five hundred yards or so, and sketching in a notebook the character and features of the ever changing coast between the various "fixes." one could keep warm doing this and one saw more of the land and ice formation than the others, for it meant following carefully round-cape and glacier edge, penetrating inlets and delineating every islet, promontory, cliff, and talus. in spite of the cold, the gloom, and the sad whistling wind that heralded the now fast approaching darkness, i felt glad to work with my sextant and sketch-book under the shadow of those fantastic ice-foots hung round with fringes of icicle. i loved to go with gran into the deep bays and walk for miles under the overhanging of the vast ice cliffs all purple in the reflection of the early winter noon, and to come out sometimes as we did on to the sea ice clear of a jutting glacier, to face suddenly northward over the frozen sea where nothing but a great waste of ice stretched away to meet the horizon and the rosy, copper glow of the departed sun's rays. some of the cloud effects at the end of april were too wonderful for mere pen or brush to describe. to appreciate them one must go there and see them, those wonderful half-light tints. then there were the ice caves and grottos which were formed in the grounded icebergs that had overturned before we came, and the still more wonderful caves in the ice-sheet where it over-rode ross island and formed a cliff-face between cape evans and glacier tongue, extraordinarily like the white chalk cliffs of studland bay i found them, with here and there outstanding pinnacles which a little imagination would liken to old harry rocks when the gray light was on them. at the most we could only take sextant and theodolite angles for two hours on either side of noon, so gran and i went without our lunch, taking a few biscuits and some chocolate out with us on our survey days, and as we worked farther and farther from our base we found it necessary to start out in the darkness in order to take full advantage of what light was vouchsafed us. it was good healthy work and we developed glorious appetites, so that our mouths ran with water when perhaps we met a couple of fellows leading the little white ponies on the sea ice for exercise, and they told us what they had had for lunch and what was being kept for us. we found it all most interesting and, although i detested that sunless winter, i loved the changing scenery, which never seemed monotonous when there was any daylight or moonlight. to mark our "stations" we used red and black bunting flags, and they showed up very well. we gave them all sorts of weird names, such as sardine, shark, and so forth, and we knew almost to a yard their distances from one another, as also their bearings, which helped us when we were overtaken by bad weather. eventually it became too dark for any survey work, but there was always plenty to do indoors for the majority of us. apart from our specialist duties some one was always to be found who could give employment to the willing--there were no idlers or unwilling folk amongst us. simpson, for example, would employ as many volunteers as he could get to follow the balloons which he frequently sent up to record temperature and pressure. to each of these balloons a fine silk thread was attached, or rather the thread was attached to the little instrument it carried. when any strain was put on the thread it broke the thread connecting the small temperature and pressure instrument to the balloon, the former dropped on to the ice and was recovered by one of the volunteers, who followed the silk thread up until he came to the instrument where it had fallen. one required good eyesight for this work as for everything else down here, and i have never ceased to marvel at the way cherry-garrard got about and worked so well when one considers that he was very short-sighted indeed. everybody exercised generously, whether by himself on ski, leading a pony, digging ice for the cook or ice to melt for the ponies' drinking water, or even with a whole crowd playing rather dangerous football on the sea ice north of cape evans. when the real winter came i used to walk, after winding the chronometers, until breakfast time to begin with. this gave me half an hour, then again before lunch i would put on ski and go for a run with anybody who had not a pony to exercise. the visibility was frequently limited, particularly on overcast days; one would glide along over the sea ice, which was in places wind-swept and in others covered with snow. nothing in sight but the gray-white shadow underfoot and the blue-black sky above, a streak or band just a mere smudge of daylight in the north, but this would be sufficient to give one direction to go out on. then slowly, dim, spectre-like shapes would appear which would gradually sort themselves out into two lots, black and white--these were titus's ponies--the white shapes, the black were the men leading them. on they came, seemingly at a great pace, and one heard a crunching noise as the hoofs of the ponies trod down the snow crust, but one could not hear the footfalls of the men. one exchanged a "hallo" with the leading man and passed on until a much bigger white shape loomed up in the obscurity of the noon-twilight, the going underfoot changed and skis fetched up against a great lump of ice which was scarcely discernible in the confusing darkness, and one realised that what little light there was to the northward had been blotted out by one of the big grounded icebergs. directly one realised which berg it was a new course would be shaped, say to the end of the barne glacier; the cliffs of this reached, one proceeded homeward a league to the hut. this could not be missed on the darkest day if the coast-line was followed, and, at last, when stomach cried out like a striking clock, one realised that it was 2 p.m. or so, and a little glow indicated the whereabouts of the hut. approaching it, one saw the tall chimney silhouetted against the sky, then the black shapes which oddly proclaimed themselves to be motor-sledges, store heaps or fodder dumps, and finally the hut itself. one stumbled over the tide-crack and up on to the much trodden snow which covered the cape evans's beach. six or seven pairs of skis stuck in the snow near the hut door indicated that most people had come in to lunch, so there was need to haste. off came one's own skis, and with a lusty stab in they went heel downwards into the snow alongside the other ones, so that when a new fall came they would stand up vertically and be easily found again. the sticks one took into the hut, because even in our well-appointed family there were pirates who borrowed them and forgot to replace them. entering the hut after kicking much snow from boots one passed first through the acetylene smelling porch--handy andy's pride--as we called day's gas plant, then in to the seamen's quarters, where the smell of cooking delighted and the sight of those great, hefty sailors scoffing the midday meal hustled one still more. in the officers' half of the hut most people were already busy with their knives and forks, two or three perhaps just sitting down, the night watch-man probably sitting up on the edge of his bunk putting on his slippers, and cheerfully accepting the friendly insults from his pals at table who told him the date and year--down went ski-sticks on the bed, room would be made at the table, and half a dozen dishes pushed your way, and although the mess-traps were enamelled, the food you shuffled down from the tin plate and the cocoa you lapped from the blue and white mug had not its equal at the carlton, the ritz, or the berkeley. concerning the night watchman and his duties, although we had so many self-recording instruments, there were certain things which called for attention during the silent hours. aurora observations had to be made which no instrument would record, movement of clouds had to be noted in the meteorological log, the snow cleared from the anemometer and so forth, then of course rounds had to be made in case of fire, ponies and dogs visited, the galley fire lit or kept going according to requirements, and so on. night watch-keeping duty was only undertaken by certain members chosen from the afterguard. scott himself always took a share in this, as he did in everything else that mattered. one came to welcome the night on, for the attendant work was not very strenuous and the eight hours' quietude gave the watchman a chance to write up a neglected diary, to wash clothes, work out observations, and perhaps make contributions to the "south polar times" undisturbed by casual well-wishers who were not meant to see the article in question until the day of publication. we were allowed to choose from the stores more or less what we liked for consumption in the stillness of the night watch. i always contributed special china or ceylon tea for the benefit of the lonely watchman--i had two big canisters of the beverage, a present from one of our new zealand well-wishers, mrs. arthur rhodes of christchurch, and these lasted the afterguard watch-keepers through the expedition. the auroras were a little disappointing this first winter as seen from cape evans, they were certainly better seen from the barrier. we only got golden bands and curtains splaying in the heavens, except for one or two rare occasions when there were distinct green rays low down amongst the shafts of weird light farthest from the zenith. in view of the possibility of a second winter one kept a few letters going which contained a little narrative of our work to date. we had most imposing note-paper which was used for these occasions: the crest consisted of a penguin standing on the south pole with the southern hemisphere underfoot, a garter surrounding this little picture inscribed with "british antarctic expedition--'terra nova' r.y.s." alas, some of the letters were never delivered, for death not only laid his hand upon certain members of the expedition, but also upon some of our older friends, supporters, and subscribers. one passed out of the hut hourly at least and, on moonlight nights especially, one found something beautiful in the scenery about cape evans. at full moon time everything turned silver, from towering erebus with gleaming sides to the smooth ice slopes of ross island in the north-east, while away to the southward the high black dellbridge islands thrust up from a sea of flat silver ice. even the conical hills and the majestic castle rock, fifteen miles away, stood out quite clearly on occasions. the weirdest thing of all was to hear the dogs howling in the middle of the night, they made one think of wolves and of siberia. all things considered, the winter passed quickly enough: we had three lectures a week, and our professional occupations, our recreations and different interests soon sped away the four months' winter darkness. the lectures embraced the technical and the practical side of the expedition; thus, besides each of the scientific staff lecturing on his individual subject, oates gave us two lectures on the care and management of horses; scott outlined his plans for the great southern journey, giving probable dates and explaining the system of supporting parties which he proposed to employ; ponting told us about japan, and illustrated his subject with beautiful slides made from photographs that he himself had taken; bowers lectured on burma, until we longed to be there; and meares gave us a light but intensely interesting lecture on his adventures in the lolo country, a practically unknown land in central asia. in connection with the work of simpson at the base station, i must not forget the telephones. certain telephones and equipment sufficient for our needs were presented to us in 1910 by the staff of the national telephone co., and they were very largely used in scientific work at the base station as well as for connecting cape evans to hut point, fifteen miles away. simpson made the cape evans-hut point connection in september, 1911, by laying the bare aluminium wire along the surface of the snow-covered sea ice, and for a long time there was no difficulty in ringing up by means of magnetos. however, when the sun came back and its rays became reasonably powerful, difficulty in ringing and speaking was experienced. we used the telephones almost daily for taking time, and simpson used to stand inside the hut at the sidereal clock whilst i took astronomical observations outside in the cold. we also telephoned time to the ice cave in which the pendulums were being swung when determining the force of gravity. telephones were quite efficient in temperatures of 40 degrees and more below zero. midwinter day arrived on june 22, and here one must pay an affectionate and grateful tribute to bowers, wilson, cherry-garrard, and clissold the cook. to start with, we had to discuss whether we would hold the midwinter festival on the 22nd or 23rd of june, because in reality the sun reached its farthest northern declination at 2.30 a.m. on the 23rd by the standard time which we were keeping. we decided to hold it on the evening of the 22nd, this being the dinner time nearest the actual culmination. a buszard's cake extravagantly iced was placed on the tea-table by cherry-garrard, his gift to us, and this was the first of the dainties with which we proceeded to stuff ourselves on this memorable day. although in england it was mid-summer we could not help thinking of those at home in christmas vein. the day here was to all intents and purposes christmas day; but it meant a great deal more than that, it meant that the sun was to come speeding back slowly to begin with, and then faster and faster until in another four months or so we should find ourselves setting out to achieve our various purposes. it meant that before another year had passed some of us, perhaps all of us, would be back in civilisation taking up again the reins of our ordinary careers which, of necessity, would lead us to different corners of the earth. the probability was that we should never all sit down together in a peopled land, for simpson was bound to be racing back to india with bowers and probably oates, whose regiment was at mhow; gran would away to norway, and the other ubdugs to australia. one or two of us had been tempted to settle in new zealand, and the old antarctics amongst us knew how useless it had been to arrange those antarctic dinners which never came off as intended. but to return to the menu for midwinter day. when we sat down in the evening we were confronted with a beautiful water-colour drawing of our winter quarters, with erebus's gray shadow looming large in the background, from the summit of which a rose-tinted smoke-cloud delicately trended northward, and, standing out from the whole picture a neatly printed tablet which proclaimed the nature of this much-looked-forward-to meal: consomme seal. roast beef and yorkshire pudding. horseradish sauce. potatoes a la mode and brussels sprouts. plum pudding. mince pies. caviare antarctic. crystallised fruits. chocolate bonbons. butter bonbons. walnut toffee. almonds and raisins. _wines._ sherry, champagne, brandy punch, liqueur. cigars, cigarettes, and tobacco. snapdragon. pineapple custard. raspberry jellies. and what was left of the buszard's cake! the menu was, needless to say, wilson's work, the exquisite dishes clissold produced, the maitre d'hotel was birdie, and cherry-garrard the producer of surprises in the shape of toys which adorned the christmas tree that followed on the dinner. everybody got something from the tree, which was in reality no tree at all, for it was a cleverly constructed dummy, with sticks for branches and coloured paper leaves. still, it carried little fairy candles and served its purpose well. then i must not forget the greatest treat of all: an exhibition of slides showing the life about our winter quarters and the general work of the expedition from the starting away in new zealand to this actual day almost in the hut. the slides were wonderful and they showed every stage of the ice through which we had come and in which we lived. there were penguin pictures, whales and seals, bird life in the pack, flash light photographs of people and ponies, pictures of erebus and other splendid and familiar landmarks, and, in short, a magnificent pictorial record of events, for ponting had been everywhere with his camera, and it is only to be regretted that the expedition did not take him to the pole. this was, of course, impossible, when everything had to give way to food. following the photographic display and the christmas tree came the only antarctic dance we enjoyed. few of us remember much about it for we were very merry, thanks to the wine, and there was considerable horseplay. i remember dancing with the cook whilst oates danced with anton. everybody took a turn, and associated with this dance i might mention that clissold so far forgot himself as to call scott "good old truegg." truegg was the composition used by us for cooking in various ways omelets, buttered eggs, puddings, and cakes of all kinds, and, although it was a great boon to the expedition, we had by this time tired of it. still, we used it as a term of endearment, but nobody in his sober senses would have dreamt of calling our much respected commander "good old truegg"; the brandy punch must have been responsible for clissold's mixing up of names! we had now arrived at the stage when it was time to shut up, the officers became interested in an aurora display and gradually rolled off to bed. it was left to me to see the seamen turned in; they were good-humoured but obstreperous, and not until 2 a.m. did silence and order once more reign in the hut. very wisely our leader decided on june 23 being kept as a day of rest; our digestions were upset and we took this time off to make and mend clothes, and returned to our winter routine, a little subdued perhaps, on june 24. chapter ix preliminary explorations so much for the winter life up to date; no great excitements, nothing untoward, but a remarkable bonhomie obtaining in our little company despite the tedium of so many days of winter gloom. on june 27 dr. wilson with bowers and cherry-garrard started on a remarkable journey to cape crozier, nearly seventy miles distant from cape evans, via hut point and the barrier. the object of these intrepid souls was to observe the incubation of the emperor penguins at their rookery, which was known to exist near the junction point of the barrier edge with the rocky cliff south of cape crozier. it must be borne in mind that this was the first antarctic midwinter journey, and that the three men must of necessity face abnormally low temperature's and unheard of hardships whilst making the sledge journey over the icy barrier. we had gathered enough knowledge on the autumn sledge journeys and in the days of the discovery expedition to tell us this, so that it was not without considerable misgivings that captain scott permitted wilson to carry the winter expedition to cape crozier into being. the scope of my little volume only permits me to tell this story in brief. no very detailed account has yet been published, although cherry-garrard, the only survivor of the three, wrote the far too modest memoir of the journey which has been published in volume ii of "scott's last expedition." apart from the zoological knowledge wilson hoped to gain from the cape crozier visit in mid-winter, there was a wealth of other information to be collected concerning the barrier conditions, particularly the meteorological conditions, but above all we knew that with such quick and reliable observers as wilson and his companions we must derive additional experience in the matter of sledging rations, for the party had agreed to make experiments in order to arrive at the standard ration to be adopted for the colder weather we must face during the second half of the forthcoming polar journey. wilson took two small 9 ft. sledges, and after being photographed was helped out to glacier tongue by a small hurrah party. in the bad light he was handicapped from the very first, and it took the party two days to get on to the ice barrier. their progress was dreadfully slow, which was not to be wondered at, for they were pulling loads of 250 lb. per man, the surfaces were beyond anything they had faced hitherto, and the temperatures seldom above 60 degrees. relay work had to be resorted to, and in consequence the party took eighteen days to reach cape crozier. they met with good weather, that is, calm weather, to begin with, but the bad surfaces handicapped them severely. after rounding cape mackay they reached a wind-swept area and met with a series of blizzards. their best light was moonlight, and they were denied this practically by overcast skies. picture their hardships: frozen bags to sleep in, frozen finnesko to put their feet in every time they struck camp, finger-tips always getting frost-bitten and sometimes toes and heels; no comfort was to be derived within camp, for, at the best, they could only sit and shiver when preparing the food, and once the bags were unrolled to sleep in more trouble came. it is on record that cherry-garrard took as long as three-quarters of an hour to break his way into his sleeping-bag, and once inside it he merely shook and froze. the party used a double tent for this journey, that is to say, a light lining was fitted on the inner side of the five bamboo tent poles, so that when the ordinary wind-proof tent cloth was spread over the poles an air space was provided. there was, i may say, a sharp difference of opinion as to the value of the tent; wilson's party swore by it and scott was always loud in its praise. the sailors hated it and despised it; they always argued, when consulted on the subject of the double tent, that it collected snow and rime and added much to the weights we had to drag along. perhaps they were right, and i remember one occasion when two members of the expedition dumped the inner lining after carrying it many hundred miles with the remark, "good-bye, you blighter, you've had a damn good ride!" the scene inside the little green tent baffles description: the three men's breath and the steam from the cooker settles in no time on the sides of the tent in a thick, white rime; the least movement shakes this down in a shower which brings clammy discomfort to all; the dimmest of light is given by the sledging lantern with its edible candle (for messrs. price and co. had made our candles eatable and not poisonous), everything is frozen stiff, fur boots, bags and fur mitts break if roughly handled, for they are as hard as boards. the cold has carved deep ruts in the faces of the little company who, despite their sufferings and discomforts, smile and keep cheerful without apparent effort. this cheerfulness and the fragrant smell of the cooking pemmican are the two redeeming features of a dreadful existence, but the discomforts are only a foretaste of what is to come--one night the temperature fell to 77 degrees below zero, that is 109 degrees of frost. there is practically no record of such low temperature, although captain scott found that roald amundsen in one of his northern journeys encountered something nearly as bad. one cannot wonder that wilson's party scarcely slept at all, but their outward experiences were nothing to what they put up with at cape crozier, which was reached on july 15. to get on to the slopes of mount terror near crozier the party climbed over great pressure ridges and up a steep slope to a position between the end of a moraine terrace and the conspicuous hillock known as the knoll. in the gap here the last camp was made in a windswept snow hollow, a stone hut was constructed behind a land ridge above this hollow, the party using a quantity of loose rocks and hard snow to build with. cherry-garrard did most of the building, while the others provided the material, for, in his methodical way, cherry had built a model hut before leaving cape evans. the hut was 800 ft. above sea-level, roofed with canvas, with one of the sledges as a rafter to support the canvas roof. on the 19th july the party descended by the snow slopes to the emperor penguin rookery. they had great trouble in making this descent, on account of crevasses in the ice slopes which overhung the level way under the rock cliffs. as a matter of fact, the attempt on the 19th proved abortive, although the little band got close to the rookery. they reached it successfully on the 20th when the light was almost failing, and were mortified to find only about one hundred emperor penguins in place of the two or three thousand birds which the rookery had been found to contain in the "discovery" days. possibly the early date accounted for the absence of emperors; however, half a dozen eggs were collected, and three of these found their way home to england. wilson picked up rounded pieces of ice at the rookery which the stupid emperors had been cherishing, fondly imagining they were eggs; evidently the maternal instinct of the emperor penguin is very strong. the party killed and skinned three birds and then returned to the shelter of the stone hut, not without difficulty, it is true. it is worthy of note that the three birds killed by the party were very thickly blubbered, and the oil obtained from them burned well. the ross sea was found to be frozen over as far as the horizon. when the party got back to their shelter two eggs had burst and saturated cherry-garrard's mitts. this optimistic young man found good even in this, for he said that on the way home to cape evans his mitts thawed out far more easily than bowers's did, and attributed the little triumph to the grease in the broken egg! that night they slept for the first time in the stone hut; perhaps it was fortunate that they did so for it was blowing hard and the wind developed into a terrific storm. one of the hurricane gusts of wind swept the roof of the hut away, and for two days the unfortunate party lay in their bags half smothered by fine drifting snow. the second day was dr. wilson's birthday; he told me afterwards that had the gale not abated when it did all three men must have perished. they had not dared to stir out of the meagre shelter afforded by their sleeping-bags. wilson prayed hard that they might be spared. his prayer was answered, it is true, but before another year had passed two of this courageous little band lost their lives in their eager thirst for scientific knowledge. when the three men crept out of their bags into the dull winter gloom they groped about and searched for their tent, which had blown away from its pitch near the stone hut. by an extraordinary piece of good fortune it was recovered, scarcely damaged, a quarter of a mile away. cherry-garrard describes the roar of the wind as it whistled in their shelter to have been just like the rush of an express train through a tunnel. wilson, bowers, and cherry-garrard started home after this, but were caught by another blizzard, which imprisoned them in their tent for another forty-eight hours. they were now running short of oil for warming and cooking purposes, but the little party won through after a very rough march full of horrible hardships and discomforts, and reached cape evans on the 1st august, when they had faced the dreadful winter weather conditions on the cruel ice barrier for five weeks. what forlorn objects they did look: it was pathetic to see them as they staggered into the hut. wilson, when he could give a collected account of what he and his party had faced, was loud in the praise of birdy and cherry. the party were examined by atkinson, who gave some direction and advice concerning their immediate diet--they seemed to want bread, butter, and jam most, and the little loaves provided by clissold disappeared with extraordinary speed. they were suffering from want of sleep, but were all right in a few days. one of the remarkable features of this journey was the increase of weights due to ice collecting in their sleeping-bags, gear and equipment. their three bags, which weighed forty-seven pounds on leaving cape evans, had increased their weight to one hundred and eighteen at the conclusion of the trip. other weights increased in the same proportion, and the sledge had dragged very heavily in consequence. the three men when they arrived were almost encased with ice, and i well remember undressing poor wilson in the cubicle which he and i shared. his clothes had almost to be cut off him. from this journey, as stated, we evolved the final sledging ration for the summit, it was to consist of: 16 ozs. biscuit. 12 " pemmican. 3 " sugar. 2 " butter. 0.7 " tea. 0.6 " cocoa. daily 34.3 ozs. it may seem little enough for a hungry sledger, but, no one could possibly eat that amount in a temperate climate; it was a fine filling ration even for the antarctic. the pemmican consisted of the finest beef extract, with 60 per cent. pure fat, and it cooked up into a thick tasty soup. it was specially made for us by messrs. beauvais of copenhagen. no casualties occurred during the winter, but dr. atkinson sustained a severely frost-bitten hand on july 4 when we had one of our winter blizzards. certain thermometers had been placed in positions on the sea ice and up on the ramp by simpson, and these we were in the habit of visiting during the course of our exercise; the thermometer reading was done by volunteers who signified their intention to simpson in order to avoid duplication of observation. on blizzard days we left them alone, but atkinson, seeing that the wind had modified in the afternoon, zealously started out over the ice and was absent from dinner. search parties were sent in various directions, each taking a sledge with sleeping-bags, brandy flask, thermos full of cocoa, and first-aid equipment. flares were lit and kept going on wind vale hill, simpson's meteorological station overlooking the hut. search was made in all directions by us, and difficulty was experienced due to light snowfall. atkinson fetched up at tent island, apparently, which he walked round for hours, and, in trying to make the cape again, became hopelessly lost, and, losing one of his mitts for a time, fell into a tide crack and did not get home till close upon midnight. search parties came in one by one and were glad to hear the good news of atkinson's return. my own party, working to the south of cape evans, did not notice how time was passing, and we--nelson, forde, hooper, and myself--fetched up at 2 a.m. to be met by captain scott and comforted with cocoa. atkinson's hand was dreadful to behold; he had blisters like great puffed-out slugs on the last three fingers of his right hand, while on the forefinger were three more bulbous-looking blisters, one of them an inch in diameter. for days and days the hand had constantly to be bandaged, p. o. evans doing nurse and doing it exceedingly well. considering all things, we were fairly free of frostbite in the scott expedition, and there is no doubt that atkinson's accident served as an example to all of us to "ca' canny." although we had our proportion of blizzard days i do not think our meteorological record showed any undue frequency of high wind and blizzards; but, as simpson in his meteorological discussion points out, we suffered far more in this respect than amundsen, who camped on the ice barrier far from the land. it is a bitter pill to swallow, but in the light of after events one is compelled to state that had we stuck to our original plan and made our landing four hundred miles or so to the eastward of ross island, we should have escaped, in all probability, the greater part of the bad weather experienced by us. comparison with framheim, amundsen's observation station, shows that we at cape evans had ten times as much high wind as the norwegians experienced. our wind velocities reached greater speeds than 60 miles an hour, whereas there does not appear to be any record of wind higher than 45 miles an hour at amundsen's base at the bay of whales. some of our anemometer records were very interesting. in the month of july, when wilson's party was absent, we recorded 258 hours of blizzards, that is, of southerly winds of more than 25 miles an hour speed. this was the record for the winter months, but while we were depot-laying and waiting for the sea to freeze over at hut point, no less than 404 hours of blizzard were recorded in one month--march. think of it, well over half the month was blizzard, with its consequent discomfort and danger. the blizzard which nearly caused the loss of the cape crozier party measured a wind force up to 84 miles an hour; no wonder the canvas roof of the stone hut there was swept away! our minimum temperature at the hut meteorological station was 50 degrees below zero in july, 1911, and the maximum temperature during the winter occurred in june when the thermometer stood as high as +19 degrees. our ten ponies stood the winter very well, all things being considered. one nearly died with cramp, but he pulled round in extraordinary fashion after keeping oates and myself up all night nursing him. in spite of the names we assigned to the animals, largely on account of their being presented to us by certain schools, institutions, and individuals, the ponies were called by names conferred on them by the sailors and those who led them out for exercise. the ten animals that now survived were james pigg, christopher, victor, nobby, jehu, michael, snatcher, bones, snippets, and a manchurian animal called chinaman, who behaved very badly in that he was always squealing, biting, and kicking the other ponies. a visitor to the stables, if he lent a hand to stir up the blubber which was usually cooking there, found himself generally welcome and certain to be entertained. oates and meares, his constant companions, had both served through the south african war, and had many delightful stories to tell of their experiences in this campaign; their anecdotes are not all printable, but no matter. of oates it is correct to say that he was more popular with the seamen than any other officer. he understood these men perfectly and could get any amount of work out of them, this was a great advantage, because he only had his russian groom permanently to assist him, and he generally used volunteer labour after working hours to carry out his operations. in the two lectures he gave us on "the care and management of horses," to which reference has been made, oates showed how much time and thought he had devoted to his charges, and to the forthcoming pony-sledge work over the great ice barrier. during the latter half of the winter oates and i saw a good deal of one another, as we daily exercised our ponies on the sea ice when wilson's party was away and afterwards also till the weather was light enough for me to continue surveying. oates led two ponies out generally-christopher, the troublesome, and jehu, the indolent while the care of the rogue pony, chinaman, devolved on myself. when the ponies went well, which was usually the case, when they did not suffer from the weather, we used to have long yarns about our respective services and mutual friends. oates would often discuss the forthcoming southern journey, and his ambition was to reach the top of the beardmore glacier; he did not expect to be selected for the southern party, which was planned to contain four men only--two of these must have special knowledge of navigation, to check one another's observations--the third would be a doctor, and it was expected that a seaman would be chosen for the fourth. so oates was convinced that he had no chance, never for a moment appreciating his own sterling qualities. by the spring the ponies were all ready to start their serious training for the southern journey, and the proper leaders now took charge to daily exercise their animals in harness. the older sledges were used with dummy loads, varying in weight according to the condition and strength of the pony. so well in fact and so carefully did oates tend his charges, that by the time they were required for the southern journey only jehu caused him any anxiety, even so this beast managed to haul a reasonable load for a distance of nearly 280 miles. as to the dogs, the list was as follows: poodle--killed during gale outward in ship. mannike rabchick (little grouse)--died from fall into crevasse. vashka--died suddenly, cause unknown. sera uki (gray ears)--died after cramp and paralysis of hind legs. seri do. do. deek do. do. stareek (old man)--sent back with first supporting party. deek the wild one. brodiaga (robber). biele glas (white eye). wolk (wolf). mannike noogis (little leader). kesoi (one eye). julik (scamp). tresor (treasure). vida. kumugai. biela noogis (white leader). hohol (little russian). krisraviza (beauty). lappe uki (lap ears). petichka (little bird). cigane (gipsy). giliak (indian). osman. seri (gray). sukoi (lean). borup. rabchick (grouse). ostre nos (long nose). makaka (monkey). chorne stareek (black old man). peary. _note._--borup and peary were from the american north polar expedition puppies. borup was used in dimitri's dog team which got right on to the beardmore glacier, but peary was never any use except for the other dogs to sharpen their teeth on. he was a regular pariah. apart from the sledge dogs, we had a bitch called lassie for breeding purposes, but she was a rotten dog and killed her puppies, so we might as well have left her in new zealand, where we got her. the dogs came through the winter very well, and during blizzards they merely coiled themselves up into round balls of fur and let the snow drift over them. meares and dimitri kept a very watchful eye over the dog teams, and protected them against the prevailing winds with substantial snow-shelters, always taking the weaker or sick animals into the annexe where birdie kept his stores, or else into the small dog hospital, which was made by dimitri and perfected by meares. the sun returned to us on the 22nd august. we were denied a sight of it owing to bad weather, for on the 22nd and 23rd august we had a blizzard with very heavy snowfall, and the drift was so great that, when it became necessary to leave the hut for any purpose, the densely packed flakes almost stifled us. we hoped to see the sun at noon on the 23rd when it was denied us on the previous day, but no such luck, the sun's return was heralded by one of our worst blizzards, which continued with very occasional lulls until august 26, when we actually saw the sun, just a bit of it. i saw the upper limb from out on the sea ice, and sunny jim at the same time got a sight of it from his observatory hill. how glad we were. we drank champagne to honour the sun, people made poetry concerning it, some of which--birdie bowers's lines--found their way eventually into the "south polar times." the animals went half dotty over it, frisking, kicking, and breaking away even from their leaders; they seemed to understand so well, these little ponies, that the worst part of the winter was gone--poor ponies! long before the sun again disappeared below the northern horizon the ponies were no more. there is not so very much in the statement that the sun had now returned, but the fact, of little enough significance to those without the antarctic circle, left something in our minds, an impression never to be effaced--the snowed-up hut surrounded by a great expanse of white, the rather surprised look an the dogs' faces, the sniffing at one's knees and the wagging of tails as one approached to pat their heads, the twitching of the ponies' ears and nostrils, and the rather impish attitude the fitter animals adopted, the occasional kick out, probably meant quite playfully, and above all the grins on the faces of the russian grooms. yes, we were all smiling when the sun came back, even the horizon smiled kindly at us from the north. the barne glacier's snout lost its inexorable hard gray look and took on softer hues, and erebus's slopes were now bathed in every shade of orange, pink, and purple. to begin with, we had very little of this lovely colouring, but soon the gladdening tints stretched out over morning and afternoon. we were never idle in the hut, but the sun's return seemed to make fingers lighter as well as hearts. chapter x spring depot journey however well equipped an expedition may be, there are always special arrangements and adaptions necessary to further the labour-saving contrivances and extend the radius of action. for this reason the short autumn journeys had been undertaken to test the equipment as well as to give us sledging experience and carry weights of stores out on to the barrier. and now that wilson had added yet more knowledge to what we were up against, we set evans and his seamen companions on to the most strenuous preparations for going south with sledges. thus, while one lot of men were skilfully fitting sledges with convenient straps to secure the loads against the inevitable bumping, jolting, and capsizing, and lashing tank-like contrivances of waterproof canvas on, to contain the component units of food, another set of people would be fastening light wicker or venesta boxes athwart the sledge ends for carrying instruments and such perishable things as the primus stoves and methylated spirit bottles. these sledges were under the particular charge of petty officer evans, and he took delightful pride in his office. what little gray dawn there was enabled him gleefully to inspect the completed sledges as they stood ready in their special groups outside our hut. the more general type would be the 12 ft. sledge, constructed of light elm with hickory runners. on it were secured venesta wood trays for the tins of paraffin, usually in front, the aforesaid capacious canvas tank, and behind everything the oblong instrument box surmounted by light wooden chocks for holding the aluminium cooker. all sledges had small manilla rope spans, secured in most seamanlike fashion, to take the towing strain and throw it fairly through the structure of these light but wonderfully strong sledges. while the sledging equipment advanced, bowers, aided by cherry-garrard, sorted out the rations, which he weighed and packed in the most business-like manner. bowers was always well served, for he had the happy knack of enlisting volunteers for whatever his particular purpose called. by september 1 scott must have felt that no portion of his preparations was incomplete, for the travelling equipment had been taken in hand with a thoroughness that was the outcome of zeal and thoughtful attention to detail. previous to the departure of the large caravan for the polar journey, a spring journey was proposed for the purpose of laying a small depot at corner camp and generally reconnoitring. on account of the low spring temperatures no animals were used for this trip, which was carried out by gran, forde, and myself. we started on ski, pulling a heavy load of over six hundred pounds. we marched from eight o'clock in the morning until nine at night, with a short interval for lunch, and that first day out we covered twenty miles and arrived on the great ice barrier at the close of our march. the barrier in its bleak loneliness is probably the most desolate portion of the earth's surface, with the possible exception of the high plateau which forms the ice cap of the great antarctic mountain ranges. although only twenty miles from our winter quarters at cape evans, the temperature was 21 degrees lower, as we afterwards found by comparison. we were all three anxious to acquit ourselves well, and although the temperature on camping was 42 degrees below zero we had not experienced any great discomfort until we encountered a sharp, cold breeze off cape armitage, which resulted in forde having his nose badly frost-bitten. directly this was noticed we quickly unpacked our sledge, erected our tent, and whilst gran cooked the supper i applied what warmth i could to forde's nose to bring the frozen part of it back to life. needless to say, the sharp air had keened our appetites, and we were all eager for the fragrant smelling pemmican. we sat round on our rolled-up fur sleeping-bags, warming our hands over the primus stove, and literally yearning for the moment to arrive when the pemmican would boil and we could absorb the delicious beverage and derive some badly needed warmth therefrom. following the pemmican and biscuit came a fine brew of cocoa. this finished, the bags were unstrapped and laid out, when the three of us soon curled up and, huddling together for warmth, endeavoured to get to sleep. the thermometer, however, fell to 60 degrees below zero, and the cold seemed to grip us particularly about the feet and loins. all night we shivered and fidgeted, feeling the want of extra beat in the small of our backs more than elsewhere. we got little or no sleep that night, and my companions were as glad as i was myself when daylight came and we got busy with our breakfast. we arrived at the old pony-food depot, safety camp, during the forenoon of september 9, and dug out the stores and bales of compressed hay, which we carefully tallied and marked by setting up a large black flag. then we continued towards corner camp. we covered only eight or nine miles this second day on account of spending much time in digging out the depot at safety camp. the temperature seemed to fall as we advanced into the barrier, and this night the thermometer fell to 62 degrees below zero, which meant more shivering and even more discomfort, because now the moisture from our bodies and our breath formed ice in the fur of our sleeping-bags, especially at the head, hips, and feet. one can never forget the horrible ice-clammy feeling of one's face against the frozen fur. how i yearned for a whiff of mild new zealand air and an hour of its glorious sunshine to thaw my frozen form. in spite of the low temperature we did sleep this second night, for we were tired men, and nature nursed us somehow into a sort of mild unconsciousness. on the third day of our march a considerable effort was necessary to bring the sledge out of its settled position in the hard snow, but we soon got going, like willing horses swaying at our load. the day was very cold and our breath came out grayly steaming in the clear, crisp air. at first our faces, feet, and fingers were quite painful from the cold, which bit right through, but as the march progressed the temperature rose kindly, until towards noon it was only about 30 degrees below zero, warm enough after what we had experienced earlier. as we trudged along we watched the mist which clothed the distant hills uncurl from their summits and roll back into rising sheets of vapour which finally dispersed and left a cloudless sky. the awful absence of life struck strong notes within us. even our feet made no noise at all, clad in their soft fur boots, for we could no longer pull on ski owing to the increasing weight of ice collecting in our sleeping-bags and on the sledging equipment. we were disappointed as the day progressed, for the sky became overcast and the wind blew stronger and stronger from the w.s.w: with low drifts, and at 8.30 p.m., it being too dark to see properly, we camped. by the time our tent was pitched a fair blizzard was upon us, and by 10 o'clock the camp was well snowed up. in spite of the howling wind we made all snug inside, and the temperature rose to such an extent that we got quite a good night's rest. the blizzard continued throughout the night, but on the following day the wind took off somewhat, and by the afternoon it was fine enough for us to make a start again, which we did in a biting cold wind. we marched on until nightfall, covering about seven and a half miles. on the 13th september, having shivered in my bag all night, at five o'clock i told my companions to get up, both of them being awake. the cold had been so dreadful that none of us had slept a wink, and we were not at all surprised on looking at the thermometer when we found the temperature was 73.3 degrees below zero, fahrenheit. we cooked a meal and then prepared to scout for corner camp. i got a glimpse of observation hill, a well-known landmark, and took a bearing of that and another hill. this gave me our whereabouts, and then we struck southward for a short distance until we saw just the top of the flagstaff of corner camp, which had been entirely buried up by the winter's snow-drifts. when we reached the camp we pitched our tent and dug out all the forenoon, until eventually we had got all the stores repacked in an accessible fashion at the top of a great snow cairn constructed by the three of us. it was about the coldest day's work i ever remember doing. the job finished, we made ourselves some tea and then started to march back to hut point, nearly thirty-five miles away. we proposed to do this distance without camping, except for a little food, for we had no wish to remain another minute at corner camp, where it was blowing a strong breeze with a temperature of 32 degrees below zero all the time we were digging, in fact about as much as we could stick. when four miles on our homeward journey the wind dropped to a calm, and at 10.30 we had some pemmican and tea, having covered nine and a half miles according to our sledge meter. we started again at midnight, and, steering by stars, kept our course correct. the hot tea seemed to run through my veins; its effect was magical, and the ice-bitten feeling of tired men gave way once more to vigour and alertness. as we started out again we witnessed a magnificent auroral display, and as we dragged the now light sledge onward we watched the gold white streamers waving and playing in the heavens. the atmosphere, was extraordinarily clear, and we seemed to be marching in fairyland, but for the cold which made our breath come in gasps. we were cased lightly in ice about the shoulders, loins, and feet, and we were also covered with the unpleasant rime which our backs had brushed off the tent walls when we had camped. on we went, however, confident but silent. no other sound now but the swish, swish of our ski as we sped through the soft new snow. in the light of the aurora objects stood out with the razor-edge sharpness of an after-blizzard atmosphere, and the temperature seemed to fall even lower than at midnight. our fingers seemed to be cut with the frost burn, and frost bites played all round our faces, making us wince with pain. we were marching, as, it were, under the shadow of erebus, the great antarctic volcano, and on this never-to-be-forgotten night the southern lights played for hours. if for nothing else, it was worth making such a sledge journey to witness the display. first, vertical shafts ascended in a fan of electric flame, and then the shafts all merged into a filmy, pale chrome sheet. this faded and intensified alternately, and then in an instant disappeared, but more flaming lights burst into view in other parts of the heavens, and a phantom curtain of glittering electric violet trembled between the lights and the stars. no wonder wilson and bowers stated that the aurora effects were much better and more variegated in colour this southern side of mount erebus. the awful splendour of this majestic vision gave us all a most eerie feeling, and we forgot our fatigue and the cold whilst we watched. the southern lights continued for some hours, only vanishing with the faint appearance of dawn. with daylight the well-known hills which surrounded our winter quarters thrust themselves into view, and gladdened by this sight we redoubled our efforts. at 5 a.m. we had alight breakfast of tea and biscuits. we were off again before six, and we continued marching until we came to the edge of the great ice barrier shortly before 1 p.m. we did not stop for lunch, but marched straight to hut point, arriving at three o'clock at the hut. we cooked ourselves a tremendous meal, which we ate steadily from 4 to 5.30, and then we discussed marching on to our winter quarters at cape evans, fifteen miles farther. had we started we might have got in by 3 a.m., but not before. we had marched all through one night, and besides digging out corner camp, we had covered nearly thirty-five miles, which on top of a day's work we considered good enough. we therefore prepared the hut for the night; two of us turned in about seven and soon fell asleep. gran remained sitting at the stove, as his bag was in such a shockingly iced-up condition that he could not yet get into it. he awoke us about 10 p.m. with more food, cocoa and porridge, both of which were excellent. i full well remember that he put about four ounces of butter into each bowl of porridge, which we mightily enjoyed. we then slept again till morning--a long, warm, dreamless sleep. we had an easy march back to cape evans on the sea ice, and arrived in the evening at the main hut, which appeared to us like a palace after our cold spring journey. chapter xi preparations and plans for the summer season whilst the spring depot-laying party was absent, scott, on september 15, took a small sledge party counting bowers, seaman evans, and simpson away westward. they covered over 150 geographical miles, and commenced by taking over to butter point a quantity of stores for griffith taylor's forthcoming western summer journey. the provisions deposited, scott marched up the ferrar glacier to cathedral rocks and did some scientific work and surveying. he found that the ferrar glacier moved 32 feet in seven months. he then came back down the glacier and continued his march on sea ice, following the coast into the five mile deep bay known as new harbour, thence outward and north eastward to cape bernacchi and on past marble point, where the broken-off portion of glacier tongue was found aground as stated already. after an examination of this ice mass the party pressed on past spike point to dunlop island, sledging coastwise parallel to the piedmont glacier, named by griffith taylor after dr. wilson. a thorough examination was made of dunlop island, revealing many facts of extraordinary scientific interest. on 24th september the sledge team retraced their steps from dunlop island to a camp near marble point, and, after spending a night close to the remnant of glacier tongue, they shaped course direct for cape evans, which was reached about 1 a.m. on 29th september. travelling mostly on sea ice, and well away from the frigidity of the ice barrier, scott was not troubled with any particularly low temperatures, but he experienced a nasty blizzard on the two days preceding his return to headquarters. apart from the value of this journey in observations of a technical nature, scott gleaned much information, which he was able to impart to griffith taylor concerning the very important journey to be undertaken by the latter. once back in the hut, scott set to work to put the final touches to his elaborate plans, drew up instructions, got his correspondence in order lest he should miss the "terra nova" through a late return from the pole, and even wrote a special letter urging that special promotion to commander's rank should be given to pennell and myself. about this time he called on us severally to relieve him if we could of the responsibility of paying us for the second season. most of us signed the document, but not all could afford to do so. the general outline plan for the polar journey was now understood by all concerned in it to be as follows: _the motor party._--day, lashly, hooper, and myself to leave winter quarters about october 22, the two motors dragging fuel and forage. _the pony party,_ consisting of scott, wilson, oates, bowers, cherry-garrard, atkinson, wright, petty officer evans, crean, and keohane, to be independent of the success of the motors, to work light loads and easy distances out to corner camp, full loads and easy distances to one ton camp, and full distances beyond this point. _the dog teams,_ starting later, to rejoin scott at one ton camp. the first object was to get twelve men with 43 weekly food units provision (four men per weekly unit) to the foot of beardmore glacier. thence, with 3 units of four men and 21 units of provision, it was hoped to extend the advance unit (polar party of four men) the required distance. the route intended was the actual one taken, as shown on the accompanying map. all our instructions were clear, and we knew what was expected of us long before the start for the southern journey was made. the plans and instructions complete, we had a full month for our own individual work. i had plenty to do in conjunction largely with debenham, and accordingly he, i, and gran set out on september 23 with sledge, tent, and a week's food supply to complete and extend our surveys, and in debenham's case to "geologise." we had an interesting but somewhat chilly time. theodolite and plane table work are not suited to very cold climates. we all three worked long hours, usually turning out between 5 and 6 a.m. and not wasting time over meals. whilst away surveying we mostly worked on the sea ice, and pitched our tent there. on october 2 at, midnight a terrific squall struck our tent. we knew what wilson's experience had been and consequently we were out of our bags in a moment. being close to land we got gran to collect rocks on the valance, while debenham and i held on for our lives to it, otherwise the tent would have blown away via mcmurdo sound into the ross sea. eventually all was serene, the tent securely anchored by rocks piled close around, and we three were snoring in our bags. we lay still until the following afternoon, by which time the blizzard had abated, and one could see a mile or two; accordingly we were up and about, so that when the visibility suited, debenham and i were once more at work and gran was away to cape evans for the purpose of replenishing our food bag. it is worthy of mention that gran could easily carry sixty pounds weight in a "rygsaek," (norwegian knapsack for ski running and towing) and hung about him whilst keeping up a speed on ski that made the best of us sweat. debenham whilst in the neighbourhood of the turk's head found much of interest to geologists, and was pleased at what we collected in the way of information. "deb" was one of the best cooks in the expedition, so we fared well whilst he was with gran and myself. gran kept us alive with his reminiscences, which were always amusing, and he certainly possessed the liveliest imagination in the expedition. he ought to have been a brigand chief. sometimes his imaginative foresight led him to commit slight breaches of discipline, as the following anecdote will show. on midwinter night when our table was gay and festive gran noticed an unopened pint bottle of champagne towards the end of the feast, when "bubbley" was being superseded by port and liqueurs. cleverly he coaxed the champagne bottle on to his lap, under his jersey, and finally into his bunk, where it remained hidden until such opportunity should arise for its consumption. gran was too generous to finish it himself, and too wise to divide it with many--a pint was for two and no more. it so happened that whilst we two were working around glacier tongue this spring doing survey work we had to come in to cape evans for some purpose. we had a hard run out on ski to our camp, and my short legs found great effort necessary to keep pace with the swarthy ski-runner. once arrived at the survey camp i puffed and blew and sank nearly exhausted on my sleeping-bag in the tent. i told gran we must have some tea before re-commencing work, and reached out to get the cooker ready. gran asked me what i fancied most in the world, and my reply was--a pint of champagne. he laughed and asked me what i would give him for that same, to which i articulated, "five pounds," and sank my tired head between my knees. noiselessly the norwegian glided from the tent to reappear with the stolen champagne bottle. i smiled delightedly, and soon we were hard at work cooking the champagne into its liquid state once more, for it was of course hard frozen in the low temperature. when we got the stuff melted it had lost its "fizz," but it tasted nectar-like even from our aluminium sledge mugs, and such was the stimulus from it that we worked until darkness had set in. i have never paid the five pounds, for the reason that gran chose a dinner party at the grand hotel, christiania instead: from a financial point of view i should have gained by paying--but that is another story and has no connection with the frozen south. on october 13 we finished the coast survey in mcmurdo sound: generally the weather was wretched, but this notwithstanding we got along fairly well with our work. once back in the hut there was plenty to be done preparing for the southern journey. my particular work consisted of rating chronometers, sewing, packing, stowing, making sundials, calibrating instruments, and preparing little charts which could be rolled up on a bamboo stick and carried in the instrument boxes of the sledges. poor clissold, our cook, fell off an iceberg while posing for ponting, and was on account of his severe shaking unable to accompany the motor party for which scott had detailed him. after dinner on october 17 day started his motors, and amidst a perfect furore of excitement he got one motor sledge down on to the sea ice. at the ice foot, alas, one of the rear axle cases fractured badly and the car was out of action 30 yards from the garage. the other car wouldn't start. from the 18th until the 24th october, day and lashly were at work repairing the disabled car, and they made an excellent job of it, so that there was no delay in the starting date for the pioneer party with the motors. we got all news by telephone from hut point with reference to the state of the surface on the great ice barrier, as meares and dimitri returned on october 15 from a flying journey to corner camp and back with depot stores. meares's dogs on this trip covered the seventy statute miles, out and home, in thirty-six hours, including their resting time. scott handed me my instructions on october 20, which read as follows: _instructions for motor party._ proceed at convenient speed to corner camp, thence to one ton camp, and thence due south to latitude 80 1/2 degrees south. if motors successful (i) carry forward from corner camp 9 bags forage, 1 bag of oilcake; _but_ see that provision for ponies is intact, _viz._: 3 sacks oats, 1 bag oilcake, 4 bags of forage. if motors pulling very well you can also take 9 cases emergency biscuit. (ii) in addition carry forward from one ton camp all man food and fuel in depot, _viz._: 7 units bagged provisions, 4 boxes biscuit, 8 gallons paraffin, but see that provision for ponies is intact, _viz._: 5 sacks oats; and deposit second bag of oil-cake brought from corner camp. if motors pulling very well you can also take 2 or 3 bales of compressed fodder. it being important that i should have latest news of your success i am arranging for dog teams to follow your tracks for some distance. if motors break down temporarily you will have time for repairs. if motors break down irretrievably, take 5 weeks' provision and 3 gallons extra summit oil on 10 foot sledge and continue south easy marches. arrange as best you can for ponies to overtake you three or four marches due south one ton camp. advance as much weight (man food) as you can conveniently carry from one ton camp, but i do not wish you to tire any of party. the object is to relieve the ponies as much as possible on leaving one ton camp, but you must not risk chance of your tracks being obliterated and pony party missing you. (signed) r. f. scott. on october 23 i wrote my final letters to my wife and friends lest i should get back to cape evans after the departure of the "terra nova": we had by now decided that another winter was imperious, and as far as possible those who were likely to remain a second winter wrote to this effect, and left their letters in simpson's charge. before my departure with the motors i also spent some time with my leader, and he gave me all his instructions to the various parties to read. they are so explicit and comprehensive that i may well append certain of them here, for they clearly show how scott's organisation covered the work of the ship, the base, the western party, the dog teams, and even the arrangements for campbell's party. i.--instructions for commanding officer, "terra nova." _october_, 1911. the expedition suffered a considerable loss of ponies in march, but enough remain to carry out the southern plan, under favourable circumstances. this loss and experience with the remaining animals have decided me to start the southern journey at a later date than originally intended. as at present arranged the southern party leaves at the end of this month (october), and it is estimated that if all goes well the earliest date at which the most advanced party can return to mcmurdo sound is march 15. as it is probable the ship will be obliged to leave the sound before this party has returned, arrangements have been made to pass a second winter at cape evans, and as is clearly desirable, the scientific staff will remain to continue their work. if fresh transport is brought by the ship, other members of the expedition will remain to work it, and it is probable that an attempt will be made to cross the barrier in a s.s.e.ly direction in 1912-13. the ship must be prepared to return to the sound in 1912-13 to relieve those that remain for the second winter. details concerning past events can be learned from the bearers of these instructions. in all that follows i want you to understand clearly that you should proceed in accordance with your judgment rather than the letter of these instructions, where the further information you possess may cause it to appear more expedient. subject to this condition i wish you to carry out the following programme:-i assume that you arrive at the rendezvous, granite harbour, on or about january 15, and pick up the western geological party as arranged. the party will consist of griffith-taylor, debenham, gran, and forde. the first copy of this document may be found by you at the depot made by this party on the bluff at the entrance of the harbour, but i hope that taylor himself will hand it to you. in case the party should be absent it is well to quote taylor's plan in brief: to november 10--exploring along coast north of granite harbour. november 14 to 28--exploring coast and inland south of granite harbour. december 8 to january 8-exploring inland of granite harbour region. taylor will make every effort to return to granite harbour in time to meet you, and should the party be absent you may assume that it has probably been delayed inland. on the chance that it may have been cut off you may proceed to search the coast in a southerly direction if ice conditions permit. the time occupied in the search must be left to your judgment, observing that the party will reach granite harbour with sufficient provision to last till april, 1912, and should be able to work its way back to this depot. all things considered, i do not think you need be anxious about the party, even if you find a search impracticable, having regard to your future movements, and you will remember that the search will be more easily prosecuted as the season advances. should the party be recovered at once, as is most probable, i wish you to take it to evans coves, and land it without delay. the provisions carried by the party should be sufficient to support it for about two months, to provide for the possibility of the failure of the ship to return. i imagine this landing will be effected about january 18 or 19, and the party should be instructed to be prepared to be re-embarked on february 15. it will, of course, be under your orders, and you should be careful that the place for relief is thoroughly understood by all concerned. after landing this party you will proceed to cape evans, and should you reach it on or about january 23 you will have three weeks in mcmurdo sound before proceeding to finally relieve the geological party. there will be a great deal of work to be done and very little assistance: the order in which it is performed must depend on the state of the ice, etc., but of course the practical work of relieving the station must take precedence in point of importance. simpson will remain in charge of the station, and is provided with complete lists of the stores remaining, together with the requirements for the future. bowers will have left a letter for you concerning these matters. it is probable that a good many of the stores you bring will not be required on shore, and in any case you will easily determine what is wanted. if 10 tons of patent fuel remain, we shall not require more than 15 tons of additional fuel. in addition to stores i hope you will be landing some fresh transport animals. oates has drawn a plan for extending the stable accommodation, which will be left with simpson. the carpenter should be landed for this work and for the few small alterations in the hut accommodation which may be necessary. the discovery hut at cape armitage has now been put into fairly good order, and anticipating that returning parties may have to remain there for some time, as we did last year, i am arranging to transport a quantity of stores to hut point. in case the ponies are unable to finish this work, i should like you to complete it at some convenient season. according to circumstances you will probably wait till the ice has broken well back. mails and letters for members of the southern party should be taken to hut point and left in clearly marked boxes. simpson will inform you of the plan on which the southern journey is being worked. the first returning parties from the south should reach hut point towards the end of january. at as early a date as convenient i should like you to proceed to the western side of the sound (i) to find a snug berth in which the ship can take shelter during gales. (ii) to erect the meteorological hut if you have brought it with you. from a recent sledge trip to the west i am inclined to think that excellent shelter could be found for the ship alongside the fast ice in the ferrar glacier inlet or in new harbour, and it might be well to make headquarters in such a place in time of disturbance. but it would be wise to keep an eye to the possibility of ice pressure across the sound. it might be possible to moor the ship under the shelter of butter point by a hawser secured to balks of timber buried deep in the snow; she should he easy at a long scope. in regards to the hut my idea is to place it in as sheltered a spot as possible, at or near a spot which commands a view of the strait, the main object being to make it a station from which the phenomena of blizzards, etc., can be observed. simpson, who was with me in the west, will give you some idea of our impressions. you will understand that neither of the above objects are of vital importance. on the proper date you will return to evans coves to pick up the geological party. i must assume that campbell has been landed in the region of robertson bay in a place that is fairly accessible at this season. if this is so i think it is desirable that you should visit his station after leaving evans coves to communicate fresh instructions to him. campbell was directed to be prepared to embark on february 25, and it is probable that he will have returned a few days before that date. in view of the return of the ship in 1912-13 i propose to give campbell's party the choice of remaining another winter in their station under certain conditions or of returning to new zealand. should they decide to stay, the necessary stores for them can now be landed. should they decide to return, inform priestley that he is at liberty to remain at cape evans for a second winter if he wishes to do so. should the party be absent from the station you must leave the instructions and return to mcmurdo sound. i do not think you should delay beyond february 24 on this service. you should be back in mcmurdo sound at the end of february or march, and after collecting fresh news, i hope you will be able to moor the ship and await developments for at least ten days. the term of this stay must be left entirely to your judgment, observing that whilst it is highly undesirable for you to miss the latest possible news, it would be more undesirable for you to be caught in the ice and forced to winter. concerning this matter i can only give you information as to what had happened in previous years: last year the bays froze permanently on march 24. last year the sound froze permanently on may 7 or 8. by the bays i mean the water south of hut point, inside turtle back island, south of glacier tongue, inside the islands north of glacier tongue, and, i think, the western shores of the sound. the following gives the ice movements in the sound in more detail: march 24.-25. ice forming and opening with leads. " 26. sea clear. " 27. strait apparently freezing. " 28 (early). ice over whole sound. " 29. all ice gone. " 30. freezing over. april 1. ice out, etc. this sort of thing continued till may, with lengthening intervals, but never more than three days of frozen sea. the dates of freezing over in 1902 were approximately the same, except that the sound continued to open beyond the glacier tongue throughout the winter. in 1903 the bays did not break out, but the sound was freezing and opening in march and april as in the other years. i think it is certain that the old ice lately broken as well as all the broken young ice drifts to the west, and that a ship on the western side of the sound would be pretty certainly entangled at this season of the year. i think it more than probable that you will find all the old ice broken out when you return from the north, and the bay south of cape armitage completely open. if so, this seems to me to be a good place for you to wait, moored to the edge of the barrier, if possible. young ice will constantly form about you, but i do not think you need fear its detaining you until after the third week in march. i am afraid it may be very cold and unpleasant waiting in such a situation, and possibly better and safer conditions for the ship can be found farther to the west and nearer to the decayed glacier ice south of black island. moored here the ship would have a clear sea to leeward, whereas in the bay beyond cape armitage she might have a lee shore. you will know best how to make a good permanent ice anchor. there are shoals off cape armitage which may extend for one or even two miles, and careful navigation is needed in this immediate vicinity. the shoals off hut point and the west side of the peninsula do not extend more than a ship's length from the shore. otherwise, except inside the islands, i believe the sound to be free from such dangers. in case you choose to wait in a spot somewhat remote from hut point i am arranging to attract your attention in the following manner:--very's lights will be discharged and as large a flare as possible will be burnt at hut point at midnight or noon (you will remember we are keeping time for 180th meridian). as large a flag as possible will be displayed on the skyline of the heights near by, and attempts to heliograph with a looking-glass will be made. with a keen lookout for such signals you need not frequently approach the hut. in the above i have referred to the young ice in the sound only; there is no means of knowing what is happening farther north, but i am of opinion that as long as the "terra nova" is free to move in the southern bays, she will have no great difficulty in leaving the ross sea. you will understand that the foregoing remarks are intended as helpful suggestions and that i do not wish them to interfere with your judgment of the situation as it stands; above all, i would not have them to prompt you to take a risk in detaining the ship beyond the time which you think proper for her departure. i fully realise that at this critical time, when gales are very frequent, your position will be beset with difficulties, and i much regret that it is necessary to ask you to undertake such an uncomfortable service. apart from, but concurrently with, the services which have been discussed, i know that you will be anxious to help forward the scientific objects of the expedition. having regard to your interests in such matters, they also are left mainly to your judgment, and i wish only to specify some lines on which any soundings taken would be especially important. these seem to be: 1. in the space occupied by the old glacier tongue (some two miles of the tongue was broken off last summer). 2. across the sound in one or two places to give a section of the bottom elevations. 3. across any fiords on the coast such as the ferrar glacier inlet. 4. off the end of ice tongues or the edge of ice walls. 5. off the old pinnacled ice north of black island. 6. from a boat near the barne glacier. 7. from a boat around grounded bergs. i have now to mention various matters of lesser importance to which i should like attention given if time and circumstances permit. 1. the hut galley is not in a very satisfactory condition. i should like williams to overhaul it and try to make it more serviceable for a second season. 2. the coast of victoria land has been redrawn over the "discovery" track. i should be glad to have definite evidence on this point. any replotting of coast will of course be valuable. 3. boot-leather, stout boot-nails, and useful paper are requirements which i hope you will be able to supply sufficiently for a second season. 4. the only want for the second season which i can foresee is reindeer pelts for repairing sleeping-bags. i very much fear you will not have brought any: anything you can provide to make good the want would be acceptable. 5. if convenient williams might look at the blubber cooking stove in the discovery hut and provide some sheet metal, etc., to keep it in good repair. 6. one of the old blubber stoves adapted as in stables and some chimney pipe should be placed in the meteorological hut if it is erected to the west. 7. to provide for possible difficulty in keeping up supply of blubber for discovery hut stove in march and april it might be useful to have a few bags of coal there, if you can spare them and land them conveniently. last year we managed very well without coal. 8. if when erecting the stables, etc., the carpenter has not time to see to smaller matters, such as the repairing of the porch entrance, etc., will you please leave sufficient wood for the purpose. a drift screen would be an advantage outside door of porch. 9. if you erect the meteorological hut, and can conveniently do so, it would help for you to leave a few cases of provisions in it. bowers leaves a note with simpson on this point. 10. if at any time during the season it is convenient to you without undue expenditure of coal to land at cape crozier, i should like you to leave a small depot of provisions there. the object of this depot is to support a sledge party to visit the region early next season. bowers leaves a note with simpson concerning the stores required. they should be placed near the discovery record post. 11. to assist the signalling to you from hut point you might land rockets or port-fires. in regard to the constitution of the wintering party for the second winter, much must remain in doubt. the following members will return in any case: 1. taylor, whose leave of absence transpires. 2. ponting, who will have completed his work. 3. anton, who has had enough of it. _anton_ took the dark season very badly; it preyed on his superstitions, but he has worked like a trojan and is an excellent little man. please recommend him highly if he wants to get work in new zealand. _meares_ may possibly return; it depends on letters from home. the following are certain to stay: bowers, simpson, debenham, wright, nelson, atkinson, clissold, hooper, dimitri. the movements of the following depend (i) on the date of the return from the south; (ii) on the fresh transport which you have brought: myself, wilson, evans, oates, cherry-garrard, gran, day, and the seamen. if you have brought fresh transport the probability is that all these will remain. if you have not brought fresh transport the majority, if not all, who are able to catch the ship will return. the decision is in every case voluntary and subject to alteration on receipt of home news or from other causes. it is impossible for me to speak too highly of any member of the expedition who has remained in this party, and you must do your best to see that the reasons of returning members are generally understood. in regard to my agreement with the central news i am leaving with simpson under separate cover a telegraphic despatch concerning the doings of this party, containing about 3000 words. i hope you will duly receive letters from me through returning sections of the southern party. i must leave it to you to complete the despatch with this material, with news from campbell, and with an account of your own doings. you will remember that the agreement is for a minimum of 6000 words, and we must not fail in the performance of our part, drake must take special care to have the "hereward" message correct. as a matter of form, it will be well for you to remind every one returning in the ship of the terms of the ship's articles. ponting will be in charge of all the photographic material returning, and will see to the observance of the various agreements concerning it. his own work is of the greatest importance, and it is probable that he will wish to be in the ship during your trip to recover the geological party and communicate with campbell. i should like you to give him every facility you can for his work, but of course you will remember that he is an enthusiast, and in certain circumstances might undervalue his own safety or that of the ship. i don't want you to run risks to get pictures. i have hitherto made no mention of amundsen, as we have no news of him beyond that which you brought. the circumstances do not appear to me to make it incumbent on you to attempt to visit his station. but should the "fram" not have been heard of, or public opinion seem to point to the advisability, you are of course at liberty to go along the barrier and to rearrange this programme as necessary for the purpose. finally, i wish you every sort of good fortune in the work that is to do, and better weather than you encountered last year. i am sure that you will do all that is possible under the circumstances. (signed) r.f. scott. ii.--instructions to dr. g. c. simpson. my dear simpson,--in leaving you in charge of the cape evans station i have little to do beyond expressing the hearty wish that all may be well with yourself and the other members of the expedition remaining with you. i leave in your charge a box containing instructions for the commanding officer of the "terra nova" and other documents which i wish you to deliver to the proper persons. i think you are fully aware of my plans and wishes, beyond their expression in the various statements you have seen, and that it is needless to go further with written explanations. as you know, it is arranged for ponting, hooper, and anton to make a journey to the s.w. in december. ponting will leave with you a written statement giving an outline of his intended movements. later in the season he will probably visit cape royds and other interesting localities: please give him what assistance you can in his important work. from time to time meares may be visiting the station, and i hope that by this means, or through the telephone, you may receive information as to the progress of the southern party. the thawing of the drifts in summer will have to be carefully watched and such measures as are necessary taken to avoid injury to the hut and the stores. cases should not be exposed to wet or tins to rust. the breaking of the sea ice should be carefully watched, noted, and reported to hut point when possible. bowers will leave notes with you concerning store requirements and desirable expenditure. i anticipate the ship may have some difficulty in reprovisioning the station. you will of course render all the assistance you can. details as to the improvement of the hut for a second winter will become more evident as the season advances. in addition to the probable renovation of the stables i can only suggest the following points at present: 1. an extension or rebuilding of the entrance porch so that the outer door faces north. regard must be had to the possibility of bringing sledges into hut. 2. a shelter extension to latrine. 3. the construction of an air-tight embankment or other device at the base of the hut walls to keep the floor warmer. 4. the betterment of insulation in your corner, and the provision of a definite air inlet there. 5. the caulking of small holes and slits in the inner roof. 6. the whale boat should be looked to and probably filled with water under advice from ship. after departure of southern party all mattresses and bedding should be rolled up, and as opportunity occurs they should be thoroughly dried in the sun. you will remember that as the summer advances certain places in the solid floe become dangerously weak. it should be well to keep watch on such places, especially should they occur on the road to hut point, over which parties may be travelling at any time. it is probable there will be a rearrangement of the currents in the region of tent island since the breaking of the glacier tongue. (signed) r.f. scott. iii.--instructions leader of western party. 1911. the objects of your journey have been discussed, and need not here be particularised. in general they comprise the geological exploration of the coast of victoria land. your party will consist of debenham, gran, and forde, and you will cross the sound to butter point on or about october. you will depart from butter point with provision as under: 11 weeks' pemmican. 10 gallons oil. 18 weeks' remainder. 25 lb. cooking fat. and make along the coast to granite harbour. you will leave at butter point two weeks' provision for your party, for use in case you are forced to retreat along the coast late in the season, and for the same eventuality you will depot a week's provision at cape bernacchi. on arrival in granite harbour you will choose a suitable place to depot the main bulk of your provision. as the commanding officer of the "terra nova" has been referred to the bluff headland, shown in the photograph on page 154 "voyage of the 'discovery'," as the place near which you are likely to be found, it is obviously desirable that your depot should be in this vicinity. i approve your plan to employ your time thereafter approximately as follows: during what remains of the first fortnight of november in exploring north of granite harbour. during the last fortnight in november in exploring south of granite harbour. the only importance attached to the observance of this programme, apart from a consideration of the work to be done, lies in the fact that in case of an early break up of the sea ice and your inability to reach the rendezvous, the ship is directed to search the coast south of granite harbour. you should act accordingly in modifying your plans. it will certainly be wise for you to confine your movements to the regions of granite harbour during the second week in january. you will carry a copy of my instructions to the commanding officer of the "terra nova," which you are at liberty to peruse. this should be left at your depot and the depot marked, so that the ship has a good chance of finding it in case of your absence. you will, of course, make every effort to be at the rendezvous at the proper time, january 15, and you need not be surprised if the ship does not appear on the exact date. the commanding officer has been instructed in the following words: "i wish the ship to be at granite harbour on or about january 15.... no anxiety need be felt if she is unable to reach this point within a week or so of the date named." you are now in possession of all the information i can give you on this point, and it must be left to your discretion to act in accordance with unforeseen circumstances. should the ship fail to find you it is probable she will not make a protracted search before going to cape evans to gather further particulars and land stores; it is to be remembered also that an extent of fast ice or pack may prevent a search of the coast at this early season. should the ship fail to appear within a fortnight of the date named you should prepare to retreat on hut point, but i am of opinion that the retreat should not be commenced until the bays have refrozen, probably towards the end of march. an attempt to retreat over land might involve you in difficulties, whereas you could build a stone hut, provision it with seal meat, and remain in safety in any convenient station on the coast. in no case is an early retreat along the coast to be attempted without the full concurrence of the members of your party. should the ship embark you on or about the proper date, you will take on board your depot stores, except one week's provision. these stores should serve your travelling needs for the remainder of the season. whilst expressing my wishes to the commanding officer of the "terra nova," i have given him full discretion to act according to circumstances, in carrying out the further programme of the season. you will, of course, be under his orders and receive his instructions concerning your further movements. in your capacity as leader of a party i cannot too strongly impress on you the necessity for caution in your movements. although you will probably travel under good weather conditions, you must remember that violent storms occasionally sweep up the coast and that the changes of weather are quite sudden, even in summer. i urge this the more especially because i think your experiences of last year are likely to be misleading. i am confident that it is not safe for a party in these regions to be at a great distance from its camp, and that, for instance, it would be dangerous to be without shelter in such storms as that encountered by the "discovery" off coulman island early in january, 1902. with camp equipment a party is always safe, though it is not easy to pitch tent in a high wind. i can forsee no object before you which can justify the risk of accident to yourself or to the other members of your party. i wish you to show these instructions to debenham, who will take charge of the party in case you should be incapacitated. i sincerely hope you will be able to accomplish your work without difficulty, and i am sure that pennell will do his best to help you. yours, (signed) r.f. scott. iv.--instructions for dog teams. _october_ 20. dear meares,--in order that there may be no mistake concerning the important help which it is hoped the dog teams will give to the southern party, i have thought it best to set down my wishes as under: assuming that you carry two bags of oilcake to hut point, i want you to take these with five bags of forage to corner camp before the end of the month. this will leave two bags of forage at hut point. if the motors pass hut point en route for the barrier, i should be glad to get all possible information of their progress. about a day after they have passed if you are at hut point i should like you to run along their tracks for half a day with this object. the motors will pick up the two bags of forage at hut point--they should be placed in a convenient position for this purpose. the general scheme of your work in your first journey over the barrier has been thoroughly discussed, and the details are contained in table viii of my plan of which you should have a copy. i leave you to fix the date of your departure from hut point, observing that i should like you to join me at one ton camp, or very shortly after. we cannot afford to wait. look for a note from me at corner camp. the date of your return must be arranged according to circumstances. under favourable conditions you should be back at hut point by december 19 at latest. after sufficient rest i should like you to transport to hut point such emergency stores as have not yet been sent from cape evans. at this time you should see that the discovery hut is provisioned to support the southern party and yourself in the autumn in case the ship does not arrive. at some time during this month or early in january you should make your second journey to one ton camp and leave there: 5 units x.s. ration. 3 cases of biscuit. 5 gallons of oil. as much dog food as you can conveniently carry (for third journey). this depot should be laid not later than january 19, in case of rapid return of first unit of southern party. supposing that you have returned to hut point by january 13, there will be nothing for you to do on the southern road for at least three weeks. in this case, and supposing the ice conditions to be favourable, i should like you to go to cape evans and await the arrival of the ship. the ship will be short-handed and may have difficulty in landing stores. i should like you to give such assistance as you can without tiring the dogs. about the first week of february i should like you to start your third journey to the south, the object being to hasten the return of the third southern unit and give it a chance to catch the ship. the date of your departure must depend on news received from returning units, the extent of the depot of dog food you have been able to leave at one ton camp, the state of the dogs, etc. assuming that the ship will have to leave the sound soon after the middle of march, it looks at present as though you should aim at meeting the returning party about march 1 in latitude 82 or 82.30. if you are then in a position to advance a few short marches or "mark time" for five or six days on food brought, or ponies killed, you should have a good chance of affecting your object. you will carry with you beyond one ton camp one x.s. ration, including biscuit and one gallon of paraffin, and of course you will not wait beyond the time when you can safely return on back depots. you will of course understand that whilst the object of your third journey is important, that of the second is vital. at all hazards three x.s. units of provision must be got to one ton camp by the date named, and if the dogs are unable to perform this service, a man party must be organised. (signed) r.f. scott. v.--instructions to lieut. victor campbell. cape evans, _october_, 1911. my dear campbell,--this letter assumes that you are landed somewhere to the north of this station and that pennell is able to place it in your hands in the third week of february before he returns to mcmurdo sound. from pennell's instructions, which i have asked him to show you, you will see that there is a probability of some change in the future plans whereby some members of the expedition remain for a second winter at cape evans. you will learn the details of the situation and the history of this station from pennell and others, and i need not go into these matters. if things should turn out as expected, arrangements will have to be made for the "terra nova" to return to the ross sea in the open season 1912-13. under these circumstances an opportunity offers for the continuance of useful work in all directions. i have therefore to offer you the choice of remaining in your present station for a second year or of returning in the "terra nova." i shall not expect you to stay unless: (1) all your party are willing or can be replaced by volunteers. (2) the work in view justifies the step. (3) your food supplies are adequate. (4) your party is in a position to be relieved with certainty on and after february 25, 1913. (5) levick and priestley are willing to forgo all legal title to expeditionary salary for the second year. i should explain that this last condition is made only because i am in ignorance of the state of the expeditionary finances. should you decide to stay i hope that pennell may be able to supply all your requirements. should you decide to return please inform priestley that he is at liberty to stay at cape evans for the second winter. the same invitation is extended to yourself should you wish to see more of this part of the continent. we could not afford to receive more of your party. should you not have returned from your sledge trip in time to meet the "terra nova" when she bears this letter, you will understand that the choice of staying or returning is equally open to you when she returns in march. in this case it would of course be impossible for any of your party to stay at cape evans. should you see pennell in february and decide to return, you could remain at your station till the ship sails north in march if you think it advisable. being so much in the dark concerning all your movements and so doubtful as to my ability to catch the ship, i am unable to give more definite instructions, but i know that both you and pennell will make the best of the circumstances, and always deserve my approval of your actions. in this connection i conclude by thanking you for the work described in your report of february last. i heartily approve your decision not to winter in king edward's land, your courteous conduct towards amundsen, and your forethought in returning the two ponies to this station. i hope that all has been well with you and that you have been able to do good work. i am sure that you have done everything that circumstances permitted and shall be very eager to see your report. with best wishes, etc., (signed) r.f. scott. chapter xii southern journey--motor sledges advance on october 24, 1911, the advance guard of the southern party, consisting of day, lashly, hooper, and myself, left cape evans with two motor sledges as planned. we had with us three tons of stores, pony food, and petrol, carried on five 12 ft. sledges, and our own tent, etc., on a smaller sledge. the object of sending forward such a weight of stores was to save the ponies' legs over the variable sea ice, which was in some places hummocky and in others too slippery to stand on. also the first thirty miles of barrier was known to be bad travelling and likely to tire the ponies unnecessarily unless they marched light, so here again it was desirable to employ the motors for a heavy drag. we had fine weather when at 10.30 a.m. we started off, with the usual concourse of well-wishers, and after one or two stops and sniffs we really got under way, and worked our loads clear of the cape on to the smoother stretch of sea ice, which improved steadily as we proceeded. hooper accompanied lashly's car and i worked with day. a long shaft protruded 3 ft. clear each end of the motors. to the foremost end we attached the steering rope, just a set of man-harness with a long trace, and to the after end of the shaft we made fast the towing lanyard or span according to whether we hauled sledges abreast or in single line. many doubts were expressed as to the use of the despised motors--but we heeded not the gibes of our friends who came out to speed us on our way. they knew we were doing our best to make the motors successful, and their expressed sneers covered their sincere wishes that we should manage to get our loads well on to the barrier. we made a mile an hour speed to begin with and stopped at razorback island after 3 1/2 miles. we had lunch at razorback, and after that we "lumped," man-hauled, and persuaded the two motors and three tons of food and stores another mile onward. the trouble was not on account of the motors failing, but because of a smooth, blue ice surface. we camped at 10 p.m. and all slept the sleep of tired men. october 25 was ushered in with a hard wind, and it appeared in the morning as if our cars were not going to start. we had breakfast at 8 a.m. and got started on both motors at 10.45, but soon found that we were unable to move the full loads owing to the blue ice surface, so took to relaying. we advanced under three miles after ten hours' distracting work--mostly pulling the sledges ourselves, jerking, heaving, straining, and cursing--it was tug-of-war work and should have broken our hearts, but in spite of our adversity we all ended up smiling and camped close on 9 p.m. the day turned out beautifully fine and calm, but the hard ice was absolutely spoiling the rollers of both cars. whilst we were preparing for bed, simpson and gran passed our tent and called on us. they were bound for hut point. i told simpson our troubles about the surface, and he promised to telephone from hut point to captain scott. next day we got going with certain difficulties, and met gran and simpson four miles from hut point. they told us that a large man-hauling party was on its way out from cape evans to assist us. the weather was superb and we all got very sunburnt. captain scott and seven others came up with us at 2 p.m., but both motors were then forging ahead, so they went on to hut point without waiting. meantime we lunched, and afterwards struck a bad patch of surface which caused us frequent stops. we reached hut point at 8 p.m. after stopping the motors near cape armitage, and spent the night in the hut there, camping with scott's party, meares and dimitri. the motor engines were certainly good in moderate temperatures, but our slow advance was due to the chains slipping on hard ice. scott was concerned, but he made it quite clear that if we got our loads clear of the strait between white island and ross isle, he would be more than satisfied. meares and bowers cooked a fine seal fry for us all, and we spent a happy evening at hut point. the hut, thanks to meares and dimitri, was now, for these latitudes, a regular mayfair dwelling. the blubber stove was now a bricked-in furnace, with substantial chimney, and hot plates, with cooking space sufficient for our needs, however many, were being accommodated. on october 27 i woke the cooks at 6.30 a.m., and we breakfasted about 8 o'clock, then went up to the motors off cape armitage. lashly's car got away and did about three miles with practically no stop. our carburettor continually got cold, and we stopped a good deal. eventually about 1 p.m. we passed lashly's car and made our way up a gentle slope on to the barrier, waved to the party, and went on about three-quarters of a mile. here we waited for lashly and hooper, who came up at 2.30, having had much trouble with their engine, due to overheating, we thought. when day's car glided from the sea ice, over the tide crack and on to the great ice barrier itself, scott and his party cheered wildly, and day acknowledged their applause with a boyish smile of triumph. as soon as lashly got on to the barrier, scott took his party away and they returned to cape evans. it would have been a disappointment to them if they had known that we shortly afterwards heard an ominous rattle, which turned out to be the big end brass of one of the connecting rods churning up--due to a bad casting. luckily we had a spare, which day and lashly fitted, while hooper and i went on with the 10 ft. sledge to safety camp. here we dug out our provisions according to instructions and brought them back to our camp to avoid further delay in repacking sledges. we then made day and lashly some tea to warm them up. they worked nobly and had the car ready by 11 p.m. we pushed on till midnight in our anxiety to acquit ourselves and our motors creditably. the thermometer showed -19.8 degrees on camping, and temperature fell to -25 degrees during the night. october 28 was my birthday; all hands wished me many happy returns of the day, and i was given letters from my wife and from forde and keohane, who somehow remembered the date from last year--these two, with browning and dickason, i had brought into the expedition from h.m.s. "talbot," one of my old ships. but to continue: we were all ready to start at 11 a.m. in a stiff, cold breeze, when i discovered that my personal bag had been taken off by the man-hauling party that came to assist us, so i put on ski and went to hut point, six miles back. i found meares there, and he gave me a surprised but hearty welcome and wished me "happy returns, teddy." i explained what had happened; it had been done of course the night before when my namesake had taken my personal bag in to hut point from cape armitage to save me the trouble of carrying it after a hard day's work with the motors. as i had had no need of it, i never noticed its presence at hut point, so there it was. meares made me laugh by an in the most friendly way, as if i was calling on him in his english home, "stay and have lunch, won't you, teddy?" of course i did, but as i was wanted by the motor party it was a somewhat hurried meal, fried seal liver and bacon. we were not allowed to eat bacon on account of scurvy precaution, but still, it was my birthday, and nobody let me forget it. feeling much better and less angry after this unlooked for ski-run, i swung out to the barrier edge, over the sea ice, up the barrier slope, and on to the barrier itself, where i picked up the tracks of the motors and followed them for seven miles. i remember that ski run well: i felt so very lonely all by myself on the silent barrier, surrounded as i was by lofty white mountains, which lifted their summits to the blue peaceful heavens. i thought over the future of the southern party and wondered how things would be one year hence; this was indeed facing the unknown. i enjoyed the keen air, and the crisp surface was so easy to negotiate after my former barrier visits with a heavy sledge dragging one back, but the very easiness i was enjoying made me think of amundsen and his dogs. if the norwegians could glide along like this, it would be "good-bye" to our hopes of planting queen alexandra's flag first at the south pole. as a matter of fact, while i was then making my way along to overtake the motors, amundsen and his polar party were beyond the 80th parallel, forcing their way southward and hourly increasing their distance from us and from captain scott, who had not even started. yes, amundsen was over 150 miles farther south, and his sledge runners were slithering over the snow, casting its powdered particles aside in beautiful little clouds while i was rapidly overhauling the motors with their labouring, sorely taxed custodians, day, lashly, and hooper. it seems very cruel to say this, but there's no good in shutting one's eyes to truth, however unpleasantly clad she may be. i caught the motors late in the afternoon after running nine miles; they had only done three miles whilst i had been doing fifteen. we continued crawling along with our loads, stopping to cool the engines every few minutes, it seemed, but at 11 p.m. they overheated to such an extent that we stopped for the night. i was fairly done, but not too tired to enjoy the supper which hooper cooked, with its many luxuries produced by him. hooper had informed bowers of my birthday, and obtained all kinds of good things, which we despatched huddled together in our tents; for it was about 20 degrees below zero when we turned in well after midnight. we intentionally lay in our bags until 8.30 next morning, but didn't get those dreadful motors to start until 10.45 a.m. even then they only gave a few sniffs before breaking down and stopping, so that we could not advance perceptibly until 11.30. we had troubles all day, and were forced to camp on account of day's sledge giving out at 5 p.m.--we daren't stop for lunch earlier, for once stopped one never could say when a re-start could be made. we depoted here four big tins of petrol and two drums of filtrate to lighten load of day's sledge. started off at six and soon found that the big end brass on no. 2 cylinder of this sledge had given out, so dropped two more tins of petrol and a case of filtrate oils. we thereupon continued at a snail's pace, until at 9.15 the connecting rod broke through the piston. we decided to abandon this sledge, and made a depot of the spare clothing, seal meat, xmas fare, ski belonging to atkinson and wright, and four heavy cases of dog biscuit. i left a note in a conspicuous position on the depot, which we finished constructing at midnight. we wasted no time in turning in. the clouds were radiating from the s.e., a precursor of blizzard, we feared, and sure enough we got it next day, when it burst upon us whilst we were putting on our footgear after breakfast. there was nothing for it but to get back into our sleeping-bags, wherein we spent the day. on the 31st we were out of our bags and about, soon after six, to find it still drifting but showing signs of clearing. after breakfast we dug out sledges, and lashly and day got the snow out of the motor, a long and rotten job. the weather cleared about 11 a.m. and we got under way at noon. it turned out very fine and we advanced our weights 7 miles 600 yards, camping at 10.40. p.m. as will be seen, these were long days, and although he did not say it, day must have felt the crushing disappointment of the failure of the motors--it was not his fault, it was a question of trial and experience. nowadays we have far more knowledge of air-cooled engines and such crawling juggernauts as tanks, for it may well be argued that scott's motor sledges were the forerunners of the tanks. on november 1 we advanced six miles and the motor then gave out. day and lashly give it their undivided attention for hours, and the next day we coaxed the wretched thing to corner camp and ourselves dragged the loads there. arrived at this important depot we deposited the dog pemmican and took on three sacks of oats, but after proceeding under motor power for 1 1/2 miles, the big end brass of no. 1 cylinder went, so we discarded the car and slogged on foot with a six weeks' food supply for one 4-man unit. our actual weights were 185 lb. per man. we got the whole 740 lb. on to the 10 ft. sledge, but with a head wind it was rather a heavy load. we kept going at a mile an hour pace until 8 p.m. i had left a note at the corner camp depot which told scott of our trying experiences: how the engines overheated so that we had to stop, how by the time they were reasonably cooled the carburettor would refuse duty and must be warmed up with a blow lamp, what trouble day and lashly had had in starting the motors, and in short how we all four would heave with all our might on the spans of the towing sledges to ease the starting strain, and how the engines would give a few sniffs and then stop--but we must not omit the great point in their favour: the motors advanced the necessaries for the southern journey 51 miles over rough, slippery, and crevassed ice and gave the ponies the chance to march light as far as corner camp--this is all that oates asked for. it was easier work now to pull our loads straight-forwardly south than to play about and expend our uttermost effort daily on those "qualified" motors. even day confessed that his relief went hand in hand with his disappointment. he and hooper stood both over six feet, neither of them had an ounce of spare flesh on them. lashly and i were more solid and squat, and we fixed our party up in harness so that the tall men pulled in front while the short, heavy pair dragged as "wheelers." scott described our sledging here as "exceedingly good going," we were only just starting, that is lashly and myself, for we two were in harness for more than three months on end. i was very proud of the motor party, and determined that they should not be overtaken by the ponies to become a drag on the main body. as it happened, there was never a chance of this occurrence, for scott purposely kept down his marches to give the weaker animals a chance. as will be seen, we were actually out-distancing the animal transport by our average marches, for in spite of our full load we covered the distances of 15 1/2 to 17 miles daily, until we were sure that we could not be overtaken, before arriving at the appointed rendezvous in latitude 80 degrees 30 minutes. now was the time for marching though, fine weather, good surfaces, and not too cold. the best idea, of our routine can be gleaned by a type specimen diary page of this stage of the journey: "_november_ 4, 1911.--called tent at 4.50 a.m. and after building a cairn started out at 7.25. marched up to 'blossom' cairn (lat. 78 degrees 2 minutes 33 seconds s. long. 169 degrees 3 minutes 25 seconds e.) where we tied a piece of black bunting to pull crean's leg--mourning for his pony. we lunched here and then marched on till 6.55 p.m., when we camped, our day's march being 15 miles 839 yards. i built a snow cairn while supper was being prepared. surface was very good and we could have easily marched 20 miles, but, we were not record breaking, but going easy till the ponies came up. all the same we shall have to march pretty hard to keep ahead of them. minimum temperature: -12.7 degrees, temperature on camping +5 degrees." we were very happy in our party, and when cooking we all sang and yarned, nobody ever seemed tired once we got quit of the motors. we built cairns at certain points to guide the returning parties. we had a light snowfall on november 6 and occasional overcast, misty weather, but in general the visibility was good, and although far out on the barrier we got some view of the victoria land mountain ranges. very beautiful they looked, too, but their very presence gave an awful feeling of loneliness. i must admit it all had a dreadful fascination for me, and after the others had got into their sleeping-bags i used to build up a large snow cairn, and whilst resting, now and again i gazed wonderingly at that awful country. the bluff stood up better than the rest, as of course it was so much nearer to us, and the green tent looked pitifully small and inadequate by itself on the barrier, nothing else human about us. just the sledge trail and the thrown-up snow on the tent valance, a confused whirl of sastrugi leading in no direction particularly, a glistening sparkle here, there, and everywhere when the sun was shining, and the far distant land sitting sphinx-like on the western horizon, with its shaded white slopes, and its bare outcrops of black basalt. wilson in our "south polar times" wrote some lines entitled, "the barrier silence"--sometimes the silence was broken by howling blizzard, then and only then, except by the puny handful of men who have passed this way. only in scott's first and shackleton's "nimrod" expedition had men ever come thus far. we reached one top depot on november 9, and took on four cases of biscuits and one pair of ski, which brought our loads up to 205 lb. per man. even this extra weight permitted us to keep our marches over 12 miles, but we had the virtue of being very early risers, a sledging habit to which i owe my life. we snatched many an hour outward and home, ward due to this. in latitude 80 degrees we found an extraordinary change in the surface: so soft in fact that we found ourselves sinking in from 8 to 10 inches--this gave us a very hard day on 13th november when, with load averaging over 190 lb. per man, we hauled through it for 12 miles. fears were expressed for the ponies at this stretch, for here they would be pulling full loads. the 14th offered no better conditions of surface, but we stuck it out for 10 hours' solid foot slogging, when we camped after hauling 12 miles. apart from the surface we enjoyed the weather, a wonderful calm and beautiful blue sky. on november 15, after building a guiding snow cairn, we continued southward to lat. 80 degrees 31 minutes 40 seconds s. long. 169 degrees 23 minutes e., where we camped to await scott, his party, and the ponies. i proposed to build an enormous cairn here to mark the 80 1/2 degree depot, so after lunch we inspected ourselves and found nothing worse than sunburnt faces and a slight thinning down all round. we commenced the cairn after a short rest. november 16 passed quietly with no signs of the ponies, and on november 17 we remained in camp all day wondering rather why the ponies had not come up with us. we thought they must be doing very poor marching. to employ our time we worked hours at the cairn, which soon assumed gigantic proportions. we called it mount hooper after our youngest member. day amused us very distinctly at mount hooper camp. day, gaunt and gay, but what a lovable nature if one can apply such an adjective to him. he entertained the rest of us for a week out of "pickwick papers." the proper number of hours in the forenoon were spent in building the giant depot cairn, then lunch, and then the cosy sleeping-bags and day's reading. it was unforgettable, and i think we all watched his face, which took somehow the expression of the character he was reading about. we put in a good deal of sleep in those days and went walks, such as they were, in a direct line away from the tent and directly back to the tent. we must surely have been the first in the world to spend a week holiday-making on that frozen sahara, the great ice barrier. there is little enough to record during this wait at mount hooper. we could have eaten more than our ration, and to save fuel we occasionally had dry hoosh for supper, which means that we broke all our biscuits up and melted the pemmican over the primus, half fried the biscuit in the fat pemmican, and made a filling dish. the temperature varied between twenty below zero and a couple of degrees above. november 20 found us growing impatient, for i find in my diary that day: "once again we find no signs of the ponies: we all say d---and look forward to the next meal: day reads more pickwick to us and keeps us out of mischief. i got sights for error and rate of chronometer watches, but these are not satisfactory with so short an epoch as our stay at mount hooper, when change in altitude is so slow. beyond working out the sights i did really nothing. temperature at 8 p.m. +7 degrees, wind south-west 3-4. cirrus clouds radiating from s.w. minimum temperature -14 degrees." but at last relief from our inactivity came to us. on 21st november, just before 5 a.m., lashly woke me and said the ponies had arrived. out we all popped to find atkinson with poor, old "jehu," wright with "chinaman," and keohane with my old friend "james pigg." they looked tired, the ponies' leaders, and we looked as though we had come out of a bull fight in a barn, with our hair grown long and full of the loose reindeer hairs from the sleeping-bags, all mixed with our beards and jerseys. after hallos and handshakes, smiles and grunts, we asked for news, and were gratified to find that all was well with men and beasts alike. what delay there was was due to blizzards and to the marches being purposely kept down to give the weaker animals a chance: day facetiously remarked, "we haven't seen anything of amundsen"--seeing that the valiant norseman was in latitude 85 degrees 30 minutes s. nearly eleven thousand feet up above the altitude of the barrier at this date one is not surprised. for all our peace of mind it was well we did not know it. we yarned away about ourselves and our experiences, then got our cooker under way to have breakfast and to await the arrival of captain scott and the seven lustier ponies. they arrived before our breakfast was ready; more greetings and much joy in the motor party. scott expressed his satisfaction at our share in the advance, hurriedly gave us further instructions, and then proceeded, leaving us to join at their camp 3 1/2 miles farther south: accordingly we deposited a unit of provisions at the cairn, put up a bamboo with a large black flag on it, left two of the boxes of biscuit from one ton depot and three tins of paraffin, and then set out. we came up to the main camp at 10 o'clock in the forenoon, pitched our tent, had a conference with captain scott, cadged some biscuits, and then cooked lunch and got into our sleeping-bags to await the hour of 6 p.m. before commencing our southward march as pioneers and trail breakers. scott had with him the following, leading ponies: wilson, oates, bowers, cherry-garrard, edgar evans, and crean, besides the aforesaid three with the "crocks." meares and dimitri drove dog teams and every one was in good health and sparkling spirits. our leader ordered the motor party, or man-hauling party, as we were now termed, to go forward and advance 15 miles daily, and to erect cairns at certain prearranged distances, surveying, navigating, and selecting the camping site. the ponies were to march by night and rest when the sun was high and the air warmer. meares's dogs were to bring up the rear--and start some hours after the ponies since their speed was so much greater. so we started away at 8.15 p.m., marched 7 miles and a bittock to lunch, putting up a "top-hat" cairn at 4 miles, two cairns at the lunch camp, one cairn three miles beyond, and so on according to plan. atkinson's tent gave us some biscuit, cheese, and seal liver, so that day we lived high. after lunch we continued until the prescribed distance had been fully covered. we noticed that there were ice crystals like spikes, with no glide about them, and the surface continued thus until 3 a.m. when there was a sudden change for the better. quite substantial pony walls were built by the horsemen when they camped--all these marks ensuring a homeward marching route like a buoyed channel. chapter xiii the barrier stage depots were made every 65 miles: they were marked by big black flags flying from bamboos, and we saw one of them, mount hooper, nine miles away. each depot contained one week's rations for every returning unit. that outward barrier march will long be remembered, it was so full of life, health, and hope--our only sad days came when the ponies were killed, one by one. but hunger soon defeated sentiment, and we grew to relish our pony-meat cooked in the pemmican "hoosh." on november 24 oates slew poor old "jehu" by a pistol shot in latitude 81 degrees 15 minutes--this being the first pony to go. the dogs had a fine feed from the poor animal's carcass, and meares was very glad, likewise dimitri. incidentally, the dogs were not the only ones who feasted on "jehu's" flesh. pony-meat cooks very well, and it was a rare delicacy to us, the man-haulers. as will be gathered, scott proposed to kill pony after pony as a readjustment to full load became possible with the food and fodder consumption. the travelling now was a vastly different matter to the work of the autumn. the weather was fine and the going easy. every day made sledging more pleasant, for the ponies had got into their swing, and the sun's rays shed appreciable warmth. although we spoke of day and night still, it must be remembered that there was really no longer night, for the sun merely travelled round our heavens throughout the twenty-four hours. its altitude at midnight would be about 12 or 13 degrees, whilst at noon it would have risen to 28 or 29. some of the days of travel were without incident almost, the men leading their ponies in monotonous file across the great white waste. the ponies gave little trouble; meares's dogs, with more dash, contained their drivers' attention always. day and hooper turned back in latitude 81 degrees 15 minutes at "jehu's" grave, and atkinson, his erstwhile leader, joined the man-haulers. the two who now made their way homeward found considerable difficulty in hauling the sledge, so they bisected it and packed all their gear on a half sledge. they were accompanied by two invalid dogs, cigane and stareek, and their adventures homeward bound were more amusing than dangerous--the dogs were rogues and did their best to rob the sledge during the sleeping hours. in due course day and hooper reached cape evans none the worse for their barrier trudge. wright's pony, chinaman, was shot on november 28, and the canadian joined the man-haulers. we were glad of his company and his extra weight. on november 29 we passed scott's farthest south, (82 degrees 17 minutes), and near this date had light snow and thick weather. on november 30 we had a very hard pull, the barrier surface being covered with prismatic crystals--without any glide we felt we might as well be hauling the sledges over ground glass, but diversion in the shape of land-oh: i think i sighted mount hope refracted up, and pointed it out to captain scott. on december 1 we began to converge the coast rapidly, and we were only thirty miles from the nearest land. the view magnificent, though lonely and awful in its silence. one would very soon go mad without company down here. december 1 saw the end of "christopher," but as the soldier fired his pistol at him the pony threw up his head and the bullet failed to kill, although passing through the beast's forehead. christopher ran to the lines bleeding profusely, but keohane and i kept him from the other ponies, and oates shortly after put another bullet into the wretched animal, which dropped him. christopher was no loss, as he gave endless trouble on the barrier march. however, he was tender enough, as we found when meares cut him up for the dogs and brought our tent a fine piece of undercut. on december 2 we had a trying time, starting off in a perfectly poisonous light, which strained our eyes and made them very painful. it snowed almost incessantly throughout the day. nevertheless we had a dim, sickly sun visible which helped the steering. as the pony food was running short the pony "victor" was shot on camping. i visited meares and dimitri in the dog-tent, and they gave me some "overs" in the shape of cocoa and biscuit, for which i was truly grateful, as i had been hungry for a month. a blizzard started on december 4, which delayed us for some hours. our party found it had a surplus of 27 whole biscuits--no one could account for this; we told bowers, however, and he did not seem surprised, so i think he shoved in a few biscuits here and there. he told me that some tins carried 2 lb. more than was marked on them. we covered about 13 miles despite the bad weather beginning the day. on december 4 we arrived within 12 miles of shackleton's gap or southern gateway: we could see the outflow of the beardmore glacier stretching away to our left like a series of huge tumbling waves. as we advanced southwards hopes ran high, for we still had the dogs and five ponies to help us. scott expected to camp on the beardmore itself after the next march, but bad luck, alas, was against us. the land visible extended from s.s.w. through s. to n.w. more wonderful peaks or wedge-shaped spines of snow-capped rock. the first and least exciting stage of our journey was practically complete. a fifth pony was sacrificed to the hungry dogs--"michael," of whom cherry garrard had only good words to say--but then the altruistic cherry only spoke good words. we did over 17 miles on december 4, heading for the little tributary glacier which shackleton named the gap; it bore s. 9 degrees e. fifteen miles distant when we put up our tent. whilst marching well ahead of the pony party we unconsciously dropped into a hollow of an undulation, and foolishly did not spot it when we paused to build a cairn. continuing our march we looked back to find no cairn. this first indicated to us the existence of undulations in the neighbourhood, and we frequently lost the ponies to view. we appreciated that we were outdistancing them, however, and camped at 8 p.m. it being my cooking week, and, as we fondly imagined, our penultimate day on the great ice barrier, combined with a very good march and a very bright outlook, we had an extra fine hoosh; it contained the full allowance of pemmican, a pannikin full of pony flesh cut in little slices, about 1 1/2 pints of crushed biscuit from our surplus, and some four ounces of cornflour with pepper and salt. i also had the pleasure of issuing four biscuits each, or twice the ration, meares and dimitri having given us eight whole biscuits which they spared from their supply. the dog drivers were not so ravenous as the man-hauling party, which was natural, but still it was uncommonly generous of them to give us part of their ration for nothing. i made an extra strong whack of cocoa, as we still had some of my private tea left, so could save cocoa. i brought tea in lieu of tobacco in my personal bag. at least that night the man-hauling party turned in on full stomachs. we were all tired out and asleep in no time, confident and expectant, but before enjoying the comfort and warmth of our sleeping-bags had an admiring look at the land stretched out before us, and particular application of the eye to the gap or southern gateway, which seemed to say "come on." so far on the journey i have not mentioned the word "blizzard" seriously, for we had not hitherto been hampered severely. the 5th december was in truth a black day for all. once more the demon of bad luck held the trump cards against us. another blizzard started, which tore our chances of any great success to ribbons--it was the biggest knock-down blow that scott sustained in the whole history of his expedition to date. here he was, a day's march from the beardmore glacier, with fourteen men, in health and high fettle, with dogs, ponies, food, and everything requisite for a great advance, but it was not to be, our progress was barred for four whole days, and during that period we had essentially to be kept on full ration, for it would have availed us nothing to lose strength in view of what we must yet face in the way of physical effort and hardship--we were but one day's march from mount hope, our ponies had to be fed, the dogs had to be fed, but they could do no work for their food. there was nothing for it but cheerful resignation. our tent breakfasted at the aristocratic hour of 10.15 a.m., and atkinson and i went out to fill the cooker afterwards--the drift was terrible and the snow not fine as usual, but in big flakes driving in a hard wind from s.s.e. it was not very cold, perhaps it would have helped things later if it had been. our tents quickly snowed up for nearly three feet to leeward. in the camp we could only sleep and eat, the tent space became more and more congested, and those lying closest to the walls of the tents were cramped by the weight of snow which bore down on the canvas. the blizzard on the second day pursued its course with unabated violence, the temperature increased, however, and we experienced driving sleet. the tent floor cloths had pools of water on them, and water dripped on our faces as we lay in our sleeping-bags. outside the scene was miserable enough, the poor ponies cowering behind their snow walls the picture of misery. their more fortunate companions, the dogs, lay curled in snug balls covered in snow and apparently oblivious to the inclemency of the weather. our lunch at 5.30 broke the monotony of the day. we had supper somewhere near 9 p.m. and then slept again. december 6 found still greater discomfort, for we had sleet and actually rain alternating. the wind continued and ploughed and furrowed the surface into a mash. our tents became so drifted up that we had hardly room to lie down in our bags. i fancied the man-haulers were better off than the other tents through having made a better spread, but no doubt each tent company was sorrier for the others than for itself. we occasionally got out of our bags to clear up as far as we were able, but we couldn't sit around and look foolish, so when not cooking and eating we spent our time in the now saturated bags. the temperature rose above freezing point, and the barrier surface was 18 inches deep in slush. water percolated everywhere, trickling down the tent poles and dripping constantly at the tent door. we caught this water in the aluminium tray of our cooker. the ponies arrived at the state of having to be dug out every now and again. they were wretchedness itself, standing heads down, feet together, knees bent, the picture of despair. hard and cruel as it may seem, it was planned that we should keep them alive, ekeing out their fodder until december 9, when it was proposed that we should use them to drag our loads for 12 miles and shoot them, the last pound of work extracted from the wretched little creatures. i am ashamed to say i was guilty of an unuttered complaint after visiting the ponies, for i wrote in my diary for december 6 concerning the five remaining siberian ponies: "i think it would be fairer to shoot them now, far what is a possible 12 miles' help? we could now, pulling 200 lb. per man, start off with the proper man-hauling parties and our total weights, so why keep these wretched animals starving and shivering in the blizzard on a mere chance of their being able to give us a little drag? why, our party have never been out of harness for nearly 400 miles, so why should not the other eight men buckle to and do some dragging instead of saving work in halfpenny numbers?" still, it is worthy of mention that on the day the ponies did their last march every man amongst their leaders gave half his biscuit ration to his little animal. this dreadful blizzard was a terrific blow to oates. he of all men set himself to better the ponies' state during the bad weather. the animals lost condition with a rapidity that was horrible to observe. the cutting wind whirling the sleet round the ponies gave them a very sorry time, but whenever one peeped out of the tent door there was oates, wet to the skin, trying to keep life in his charges. i think the poor soldier suffered as much as the ponies. he had felt that every time he re-entered his tent (which was also captain scott's) that he took in more wet snow and helped to increase the general discomfort. this being the case when he went out to the ponies, he stopped out, and kept his vigil crouching behind a drifted up pony-wall. we others could not help laughing at him, after the blizzard, when he wrung the icy water out of his clothing. his personal bag was in a fearful state, his sodden tobacco had discoloured everything, and as he squeezed his spare socks and gloves a stream of nicotine-stained water flowed out. i am unable to reproduce his observations on the subject--they were dry, picturesque, and to the point, and even our bluejackets, who were none too particular about language, looked at oates with undisguised astonishment at the length and variety of his emergency vocabulary. december 7 showed no change: the blizzard was continuous, food our only comfort. personally i read atkinson's copy of "little dorrit," for it sufficed nothing to despair; we could not move, and one had to be patient. next day we had less wind, but it snowed most of the day. we did, all the same, get glimpses of the sun and one of the land. dug out all sledges and hauled them clear, then tried the surface, and to scott's and our own surprise my party hauling on ski dragged the sledge with four big men sitting on it over the surface as much as we chose. i had thought it beyond our power, it is true. we then returned to camp. without ski one sank more than knee deep in the snow. the horses were quite unable to progress, sinking to their bellies, so no start was made. we shifted our tent and re-spread it on new snow well trampled down. this brief respite from our sleeping-bags freed our cramped limbs. weather improved and we did not find it necessary after all to get back into our bags, for it was still warm and quite pleasant sitting in the tent. what a sight the camp had presented before we started digging out. the ponies like drowned rats, their manes and tails dank and dripping, a saturated blotting-paper look about their green horse cloths, eyes half closed, mouths flabby and wet, each animal half buried in this antarctic morass, the old snow walls like sand dunes after a storm. the green tents just peeping through the snow, mottled and beaten in, as it were, all sledges well under, except for here and there a red paraffin oil tin and the corner of an instrument box peeping out. our ski-sticks and ski alone stood up above it all, and those sleeping-bags, ugh--rightly the place was christened "shambles camp." on december 9 the blizzard was really over; we completed the digging out of sledges and stores and wallowed sometimes thigh-deep whilst getting the ponies out of their snow-drifted shelters. then we faced probably the hardest physical test we had had since the bailing out in the great gale a year ago. we had breakfast and got away somewhere about 8 a.m. my party helped the pony sledges to get away for a mile or two; the poor brutes had a fearful struggle, and so did we in the man-hauling team. we panted and sweated alongside the sledges, and when at last captain scott sent us back to bring up our own sledge and tent we were quite done. arrived at the shambles camp we cooked a little tea, and then wearily hauled our sledge for hour after hour until we came up with the boss, dead cooked--we had struggled and wallowed for nearly 15 hours. the others had certainly an easier time but a far sadder time, for, they had to coax the exhausted ponies along and watch their sufferings, knowing that they must kill the little creatures on halting. oh, lord--what a day we had of it. fortunately we man-haulers missed the "slaughter of the innocents," as some one termed the pony killing. when we got to the stopping place all five ponies had been shot and cut up for dog and man food. this concluded our barrier march: the last was tragic enough in its disappointment, but one felt proud to be included in such a party, and none, of us survivors can forget the splendid efforts of the last five ponies. meantime roald amundsen had a gale in lat. 87-88 degrees on december 5, with falling and drifting snow, yet not too bad to stop his party travelling: he was 11,000 feet above our level at this time and covering 25 miles a day. he also experienced thick weather but light wind on the 7th december and on the day of our sorrowful march he was scuttling along beyond shackleton's farthest south, indeed close upon the 89th parallel. it is just as well we did not know it too. chapter xiv on the beardmore glacier and beyond probably no part of the southern journey was enjoyed more thoroughly than that stage which embraced the ascent of the beardmore glacier. those who survive it can only have refreshing reminiscences of this bright chapter in our great sledge excursion. scientifically it was by far the most interesting portion travelled over, and to the non-scientific it presented something interesting every day, if only in the shape, colour, and size of the fringing rocks and mountains--a vast relief from the monotony of the barrier travel. first we had mount hope at the lower end of the glacier. mount hope is a nunatak of granite, about 2800 feet in height, of which the summit is strewn with erratics, giving evidence of former glaciation of far greater extent. this was the first land we had passed close to since leaving hut point six weeks previously, and now we had roughly 150 miles of travelling, with something to look at, some relief for the eyes to rest on in place of that dazzling white expanse of barrier ice, with its glitter and sparkle, so tiring to the eyes. we knew that we must expect crevasses now, hidden and bare, and we also knew that we must every day rise our camps until we reached the plateau summit in 10,000 feet. the beardmore itself is about 120 miles in length and from 10 to 30 miles wide. we had no geologist with us, but specimens have been collected by shackleton's people, and our own members, particularly scott's polar sledge party, which are sufficient to give a history of this part of antarctica. december 10 showed our party on to the glacier, but we were not "out of the wood" by this date. for we had some hard graft marching up the steep incline called by shackleton the southern gateway. we had made a depot of three ten-foot sledges in good condition to be used for the homeward journey over the barrier by each returning unit--realising that the descent of the glacier would knock our sledges about and most likely break them up to some extent. we were now organised into three teams of four, pulling 170 lb. per man, and in this formation we made the advance up the glacier. the teams were as follows: 1.--scott. 2.--evans (lieut.) 3.--bowers. wilson. atkinson. cherry-garrard oates. wright. crean. evans (seaman). lashly. keohane. with us we kept the dog teams pulling 600 lb. of our own weights and the 200 lb. gross for placing in the lower glacier depot. soft snow made the dragging very heavy, and in the afternoon, working on ski, i am sorry to say my party dropped astern and got into camp an hour late--it could not be helped, we had borne the brunt of the hard work; lashly and i had man-hauled daily for five weeks, and atkinson and wright for some time also. i had a long talk next morning after breakfast with captain scott. he was disappointed with our inability to keep up with the speed of the main party, but i pointed out that we could not expect to do the same as fresh men--the other eight had only put on the sledge harness for the first time on december 10: scott agreed, but seemed worried and fretful. however that may be, we got into the lunch camp first of the three sledges, to have our short-lived triumph turned to disaster by a very poor show after the meal--scott was much disappointed and dissatisfied: he appeared to think atkinson was done; wilson said wright was played out and lashly tired. they both seemed to think i was all right, but all the same i felt that my unit had been called on to do more than its share and was suffering as a natural consequence. the depot was built in a conspicuous position, and this done, meares's work ended. he and dimitri came along with us for a while and then turned back for a long, lonely run over the inhospitable barrier. to help us meares and the russian dog-boy had travelled farther south than their return rations allowed for, and for the 450 mile northward march to cape evans the two of them went short one meal a day rather than deplete the depots. it is a dreadful thing on an antarctic sledge journey to forfeit a whole meal daily, and meares's generosity should not be forgotten. the advance of scott's men up the beardmore was retarded considerably by the deep, wet snow which had accumulated in the lower reaches of the glacier. panting and sweating we could only make 4 mile marches until the 13th december, and even then the soft snow was 18 inches deep. on the 14th we made a good 9 miles, but only by dint of our utmost efforts--we worked on ski, and i tremble to think what we should have done here without them. the aneroids gave us a rise of about 500 feet a day. things were improving now, and on december 15 we passed the 84 degree parallel--about this time we succeeded in covering 9 to 10 miles daily, and to do this we marched that same number of hours. a good deal of snow covering the mountain ranges, but some remarkable outcrops of rock to vary the scenery. the temperature was very high, and we were punished severely on this account, for the snow was like beef dripping, and we flopped about in it and hove our sledges along with no glide whatever to help us move forward. such panting, puffing, and sweating, but all in good humour and bent on doing our best. snowing hard in the latter part of the afternoon just as the surface was improving--we were forced to camp before the proper time on this account. on camping we calculated that we were 2500 feet above the barrier, the surface promising better things, for there was hard blue ice six inches from the surface, and the snow itself was fairly close-packed and good for ski. on december 16 we were out of our sleeping bags at 5 and we were under way by 7 a.m., marching till noon, when we lunched and took sights and angles. the surface remained fairly good until 2 p.m., when it took an unaccountable turn for the worse. we covered 12 miles. several of us dropped a leg down crevasses here and there, nothing alarming. we reached 3000 feet altitude, and the day ended in the most perfect weather. for the first time since leaving corner camp we felt that our ration was sufficient; we had now commenced the "summit ration," which contained considerable extra fats. snow-blindness caused trouble here and there, due principally to our removing our goggles when they clouded up--due to sweating so much in the high temperature. the goggles, which wilson was responsible for, served excellently. yellow and orange glasses were popular, but some preferred green. as we progressed and our eyes had to be used for long periods without glasses for clearing crevasses, etc., we found that a double glass acted best, and used this whenever the going was easy and goggles could be used. the contrast between the goggled and the ungoggled state was extraordinary--when one lifted one's orange-tinted snow glasses it was to find a blaze of light that could scarcely be endured. snow-blindness gave one much the same sensations as those experienced by standing over a smoking bonfire keeping eyes open. sunday, december 17, differed from the preceding days, for we got into huge pressure ridges--we hauled our sledges up these and tobogganed down the other sides, progressing half the forenoon thus. we wore our excellent crampons and made lighter work of our loads than we had done since facing the beardmore, and now that the summer season was well advanced the surface snow on the glacier had mostly disappeared through the effects of the all day sun added to the early summer winds. the clouding of our goggles made the crevasses more difficult to spot, and one or other of the party got legs or feet down pretty often. this and the following day were precursors to good marches and easy times. we made the mid-glacier depot in latitude 84 degrees 33 minutes 6 seconds s., longitude 169 degrees 22 minutes 2 seconds e., and set therein one half-week's provision. we marked the depot cairn with bamboo and red flag to show up against the ice as well as to contrast with the land. hitherto only black flags had been employed to mark depots. the weather and surface were both in our favour at last. it was sunny, warm, and clear now, and there was nothing to impede us. wilson did a large amount of sketching on the beardmore--his sketches, besides being wonderful works of art, helped us very much in our surveys. fringing the great glittering river of ice were dark granite and dolerite hills, some were snow-clad and some quite bare, for their steepness resisted the white cloak of this freezing clime. the new hills were surveyed, headlands plotted, and names bestowed where shackleton had not already done so. of course we had shackleton's charts, diaries, and experience to help us. we often discussed shackleton's journey, and were amazed at his fine performance. we always had full rations, which shackleton's party never enjoyed at this stage. after december 17 our marches worked up from 13 to 23 miles a day. shackleton bestowed the name of queen alexandra range on the huge mountains to the westward of the beardmore. the most conspicuous is the "cloudmaker," which he gives as 9.971--i like the 1 foot when heights are so hard to determine hereabouts! to the three secondary ranges, on the s.w. extreme of the beardmore, nearly in 85 degrees, he gave the names adams, marshall, and wild, after his three companions on the farthest south march. to get into one's head what we had to look at on the upper half of the beardmore, imagine a moderate straight slope: this is the glacier like a giant road, white except where the sun has melted the snow and bared the blue ice. looking up the glacier an overhang of ice-falls and disturbances, with three nunataks or mountains sticking through the ice-sheet like islands--the disturbance is mostly to the left (eastwards) of these, and the road here looks cruelly steep even where it is not broken up. down the glacier the great white way is broken here and there where tributary glaciers join it, and above the cloudmaker the glacier is cut up badly in several places, how badly we were not to know until the middle of january, 1912--but of that more anon. to the left (s.e.) a great broad river of ice, the mill glacier, and so on. the land is extraordinary--gigantic snow drifts like huge waves breaking against a stone pier beset the lower cliff faces and steeper slopes, then dark red-brown rock carved by glaciers long since vanished, and above this rocky bands of limestone, sandstone; and dolerite. some rocky talus showing through the big snow drifts, and in some cases talus alone. from my letter to be taken by the next homeward party in case i missed the ship: "the wild range is extraordinary in its curious stratification, and one feels when gazing at it some-thing of a wish to scramble along the crests, if only to feel land underfoot instead of ice, ice, ice. "the prevailing colours here are blacks, grays, reds, like the cliffs at teignmouth and exmouth, and another more chocolate red. then the whites in all kind of shade--fancy different shades of white, but there are here any amount of them, and a certain sparkle of blue ice down the glacier where the sun is shining on it that reminds one of a tropical sea. except when marching we don't spend much time out of our tents, but i take a breather now and again when surveying, and then i sit on a sledge-box and wonder what is in store for us and where all this will lead us. amundsen has certainty not come this way, although dogs could work here easily enough." on december 20 scott came into our tent after supper and told us that the first return party would be atkinson (in charge), wright, cherry-garrard, and keohane, and that they would turn back after the next day's march. we were all very sad, but each one thus detailed loyally abided by the decision of our chief. i worked till nearly midnight getting out copy of route and bearings for wright to navigate back on. here is a specimen page of my diary: "_december_ 21. "out at 5.45 a.m. and away at 8. had a very heavy pull up steep slope close to s.e. point of buckley island. passed over many crevasses and dropped into some. once i fell right down in a bottomless chasm to the length of my harness. i was pulled out by the others, bowers and cherry helping with their alpine rope. not hurt but amused. all of us dropped often to our waists and atkinson completely disappeared once, but we got him out. we got into a very bad place at noon, and a fog coming on had to stop and lunch as one could not see far. this has been our worst day for crevasses up to now, some of them are 100 feet across, but well bridged. "it was very cold, with a sharp southerly wind when we started, but later on got quite warm. we rose 1130 feet in the forenoon and made 5 miles 1565 yards up to lunch. we started again at 3 o'clock, and the fog lifting, we made a good march for the day: 11 miles 200 yards geographical (stat. 12 miles 1388 yards). in the afternoon we had a very heavy drag and did not camp till 7.30 p.m., about 4 miles s. 30 degrees w. of mount darwin (summit), latitude 85 degrees 7 minutes s., longitude 163 degrees 4 minutes e. "our height above the barrier is 7750 feet by aneroid. "had a fine hoosh with a full pannikin of pony meat added to celebrate our 'de-tenting,' which takes place to-morrow morning. we make a depot here with half a week's provision for two parties." we repacked the sledges after breakfast. this place was called the upper glacier depot--and it marked the commencement of the third and final stage of the poleward journey. we said good-bye to atkinson's party, and they started down the glacier after depositing the foodstuffs they had sledged up the beardmore for the polar party and the last supporting party. atkinson and his tent-mates now had to face a homeward march of 584 miles. they spent christmas day collecting geological specimens, and reached cape evans on january 28. they had some sickness in the shape of enteritis and slight scurvy, but dr. atkinson's care and medical knowledge brought them through safely. captain scott with his two sledge teams now pushed forward, keeping an average speed of 15 miles per day, with full loads of 190 lb. a man. when we started off we were: scott. self. wilson. bowers. oates. crean. seaman evans lashly. we steered s.w. to begin with to avoid the great pressure ridges and ice falls which barred our way to the south. we began to rise very perceptibly, and, looking back after our march, realised what enormous frozen falls stretch across the top of the beardmore. i noted that these, with scott's consent should be called "the shackleton ice falls," according to _his_ track he went _up_ them. when we looked back on starting our march we could see the depot cairn with a black flag tied to a pair of 10 foot sledge runners for quite three miles--it promised well for picking up. next day we were away early, marching 8 1/2 miles to lunch camp, and getting amongst crevasses as big as regent street, all snow bridged. we rushed these and had no serious falls; the dangerous part is at the edge of the snow bridge, and we frequently fell through up to our armpits just stepping on to or leaving the bridge. we began now to experience the same tingling wind that shackleton speaks of, and men's noses were frequently frost-bitten. on christmas eve we were 8000 feet above the barrier, and we imagined we were clear of crevasses and pressure ridges. we now felt the cold far more when marching than we had done on the beardmore. the wind all the time turned our breath into cakes of ice on our beards. taking sights when we stopped was a bitterly cold job: fingers had to be bared to work the little theodolite screws, and in the biting wind one's finger-tips soon went. over 16 miles were laid behind us on christmas eve when we reached latitude 85 degrees 35 minutes s., longitude 159 degrees 8 minutes e. i obtained the variation of the compass here--179 degrees 35 minutes e., so that we were between the magnetic and geographical poles. the temperature down to 10 degrees below zero made observing unpleasant, when one had cooled down and lost vitality at the end of the day's march. christmas day, 1911, found our two tiny green tents pitched on the king edward vii. plateau--the only objects that broke the monotony of the great white glittering waste that stretches from the beardmore glacier head to the south pole. a light wind was blowing from the south, and little whirls of fine snow, as fine as dust, would occasionally sweep round the tents and along the sides of the sledge runners, streaming away almost like smoke to the northward. inside the tents breathing heavily were our eight sleeping figures--in these little canvas shelters soon after 4 a.m. the sleepers became restless and occasionally one would wake, glance at one's watch, and doze again. exactly at 5 a.m. our leader shouted "evans," and both of us of that name replied, "right-o, sir." immediately all was bustle, we scrambled out of our sleeping-bags, only the cook remaining in each tent. the others with frantic haste filled the aluminium cookers with the gritty snow that here lay hard and windswept. the cookers filled and passed in, we, gathered socks, finnesko, and putties off the clothes lines which we had rigged between the ski which struck upright in the snow to save them from being drifted over in the night. the indefatigable bowers swung his thermometer in the shade until it refused to register any lower, glanced at the clouds, made a note or two in his miniature meteorological log book, and then blew on his tingling fingers, noted the direction of the wind, and ran to our tent. inside all had lashed up their bags and converted them into seats, the primus stove burnt with a curious low roar, and peculiar smell of paraffin permeated the tent. by the time we had changed our footgear the savoury smell of the pemmican proclaimed that breakfast was ready. the meal was eaten with the same haste that had already made itself apparent. a very short smoke sufficed, and captain scott gave the signal to strike camp. out went everything through the little round door, down came both tents, all was packed in a jiffy on the two 12-foot sledges, each team endeavouring to be first, and in an incredibly short space of time both teams swung southward, keeping step, and with every appearance of perfect health. but a close observer, a man trained to watch over men's health, over athletes training, perhaps, would have seem something amiss. the two teams, in spite of the christmas spirit, and the "happy christmas" greetings, they exchanged to begin with, soon lost their springy step, the sledges dragged more slowly, and we gazed ahead almost wistfully. yes, the strain was beginning to tell, though none of us would have confessed it. lashly and i had already pulled a sledge of varying weight--but mostly a loaded one--over 600 miles, and all had marched this distance. during the forenoon something was seen ahead like the tide race over a rocky ledge--it was another ice fall stretching from east to west, and it had to be crossed, there could be no more deviation, for since atkinson's party turned we had been five points west of our course at times. alas, more wear for the runners of the sledge, which meant more labour to the eight of us, so keen to succeed in our enterprise--soon we are in the thick of it; first one slips and is thrown violently down, then a sledge runs over the slope of a great ice wave. the man trying to hold it back is relentlessly thrown, and the bow of the sledge crashes on to the heel of the hindermost of those hauling ahead with a thud that means "pain." but the victim utters no sound, just smiles in answer to the anxious questioning gaze of his comrades. something happened in the last half of that christmas forenoon. lashly, whose 44th birthday it was, celebrated the occasion by falling into a crevasse 8 feet wide. our sledge just bridged the chasm with very little to spare each end, and poor lashly was suspended below, spinning round at the full length of his harness, with 80 feet of clear space beneath him. we had great difficulty in hauling him upon account of his being directly under the sledge. we got him to the surface by using the alpine rope. lashly was none the worse for his fall, and one of my party wished him a "happy christmas," and another "many happy returns of the day," when he had regained safety. lashly's reply was unprintable. soon after this accident we topped the ice fall or ridge, and halted for lunch--we had risen over 250 feet, according to aneroid; it seemed funny enough to find the barometer standing at 21 inches instead of 30. lunch camp, what a change. the primus stove fiercely roaring, the men light up their pipes and talk christmas--dear, cheery souls, how proud scott must have been of them; no reference to the discomforts of the forenoon march, just brightness and the nicest thoughts for one another, and for "those," as poor wilson unconsciously describes them, by humming: "keep our loved ones, now far absent, 'neath thy care." after a mug of warming tea and two biscuits we strike camp, and are soon slogging on. but the crevasses and icefalls have been overcome, the travelling is better, and with nothing but the hard, white horizon before us, thoughts wander away to the homeland--sweet little houses with well-kept gardens, glowing fires on bright hearths, clean, snowy tablecloths and polished silver, and then the dimpled, smiling faces of those we are winning our spurs for. next christmas may we hope for it? yes, it must be. but with the exception of lashly and crean that daydream never came true, for alas, those whose dearest lived for that christmas _never_ came home, and the one other spared lost his wife, besides his five companions. the two teams struggled on until after 8 p.m., when at last scott signalled to camp. how tired we were--almost cross. but no sooner were the tents up than eyes looked out gladly from our dirty, bearded faces. once again the cooker boiled, and for that night we had a really good square meal--more than enough of everything--pemmican with pieces of pony meat in it, a chocolate biscuit, "ragout" raisins, caramels, ginger, cocoa, butter, and a double ration of biscuits. how we watched bowers cook that extra thick pemmican. had he put too much pepper in? would he upset it? how many pieces of pony meat would we get each? but the careful little bowers neither burnt nor upset the hoosh: it was up to our wildest expectations. no one could have eaten more. after the meal we gasped, we felt so comfortable. but we had such yarns of home, such plans were made for next christmas, and after all we got down our fur sleeping-bags, and for a change we were quite warm owing to the full amount of food which we so sorely needed. after the others in my tent were asleep, little birdie bowers, bidding me "good-night," said, "teddy, if all is well next christmas we will get hold of all the poor children we can and just stuff them full of nice things, won't we?" it was unthinkable then that five out of the eight of us would soon be lying frozen on the great ice barrier, their lives forfeited by a series of crushing defeats brought about by nature, who alone metes out success or failure to win back for those who venture into the heart of that ice-bound continent. our latitude was now 85 degrees 50 minutes s., we were 8000 feet above the barrier. temperature -8 degrees, with a fresh southerly wind, but we didn't care that night how hard it blew or whether it was christmas or easter. we had done 17 miles distance and success lay within our grasp apparently. on the following day we were up at six and marched a good 15 miles south with no opposition from crevasses or pressure ridges. the march over the plateau continued without incident--excepting that on december 28 my team had a great struggle to keep up with captain scott's. the surface was awfully soft, and though we discarded our outer garments we sweated tremendously. at about 11 a.m. scott and i changed places. i found his sledge simply glided along whereas he found no such thing. the difference was considerable. after lunch we changed sledges and left scott's team behind with ease. we stopped at the appointed time, and after supper captain scott came into our tent and told us that we had distorted our sledge by bad strapping or bad loading. this was, i think, correct, because oates had dropped his sleeping-bag off a few days back through erring in the other direction and not strapping securely--we meant to have no recurrence and probably racked our sledge by heaving too hard on the straps. the 29th was another day of very hard pulling. we were more than 9000 feet up--very nearly at the "summit of the summit." quoting my diary i find set down for december 30 and 31 as follows. "saturday, _december_ 30. "away at 8 a.m. had a hell of a day's hauling. we worked independently of the other sledge, camping for lunch at 1 p.m. about half a mile astern of them. then off again, and hauled till 7.15 p.m., when we reached captain scott's camp, he being then stopped 3/4-hour. the surface was frightful and they had a heavy drag. our distance to-day was 12 miles 1200 yards statute. we all turned in after our welcome hoosh, too tired to write up diaries even. "bill came in and had a yarn while we drank our cocoa. "we are now about 9200 feet above the barrier, temperature falls to about -15 degrees now. position 86 degrees 49 minutes 9 seconds s., 162 degrees 50 minutes e." "_december_ 31. "out at 5.45, and then after a yarn with captain scott and our welcome pemmican, tea and biscuit. we in our tent depoted our ski, alpine rope, and ski shoes, saving a considerable weight. we then started off a few minutes ahead of captain scott, and his team never got near us, in fact they actually lost ground. we marched for 5 1/2 hours solid, and had a good heavy drag, but not enough to distress us. we stopped at 1.30 p.m., having done 8 miles 116 yards statute. after our lunch we made a depot and put two weekly units in the snow cairn, which we built and marked with a black flag. the seamen (evans and crean) and lashly spent the afternoon converting the 12 foot sledges to 10 foot with the spare runners, while the remainder of us foregathered in captain scott's tent, which evans fitted with a lining to-day, making it beautifully warm. we sat in the tents with the door open and the sun shining in--doing odd jobs. i worked out sights and wrote up this diary, which was a few days adrift. temperature -10 degrees. "we are now past shackleton's position for december 31, and it does look as if captain scott were bound to reach the pole. position 86 degrees 55 minutes 47 minutes s., 175 degrees 40 minutes e. "at 7 p.m. captain scott cooked tea for all hands. "at 8 p.m. the first sledge was finished and the men went straight on with the second. this was finished by midnight, and, having seen the new year in, we had a fine pemmican hoosh and went to bed." new year's day found us in latitude 87 degrees 7 minutes s. height, 9300 feet above barrier--a southerly wind, with temperature 14 degrees below zero. on 2nd january i found the variation to be exactly 180 degrees. a skua gull appeared from the south and hovered round the sledges during the afternoon, then it settled on the snow once or twice and we tried to catch it. did 15 miles with ease, but we were now only pulling 130 lb. per man. on january 3 scott came into my tent before we began the day's march and informed me that he was taking his own team to the pole. he also asked me to spare bowers from mine if i thought i could make the return journey of 750 miles short-handed--this, of course, i consented to do, and so little bowers left us to join the polar party. captain scott said he felt that i was the only person capable of piloting the last supporting party back without a sledge meter. i felt very sorry for him having to break the news to us, although i had foreseen it--for lashly and i knew we could never hope to be in the polar party after our long drag out from cape evans itself. we could not all go to the pole--food would not allow this. briefly then it was a disappointment, but not too great to bear; it would have been an unbearable blow to us had we known that almost in sight were amundsen's tracks, and that all our dragging and straining at the trace had been in vain. on 4th january we took four days' provision for three men and handed over the rest of our load to scott. then we three, lashly, crean, and myself, marched south to latitude 87 degrees 34 minutes s. with the polar party, and, seeing that they were travelling rapidly yet easily, halted, shook hands all round, and said good-bye, and since no traces of the successful norwegian had been found so far, we fondly imagined that our flag would be the first to fly at the south pole. we gave three huge cheers for the southern party, as they stepped off, and then turned our sledge and commenced our homeward march of between 750 and 800 statute miles. we frequently looked back until we saw the last of captain scott and his four companions--a tiny black speck on the horizon, and little did we think that we would be the last to see them alive, that our three cheers on that bleak and lonely plateau summit would be the last appreciation they would ever know. this day the excitement was intense, for it was obvious that with five fit men--the pole being only 140 geographical miles away--the achievement was merely a matter of 10 or 11 days' good sledging. oates's last remark was cheerful: "i'm afraid, teddy, you won't have much of a 'slope' going back, but old christopher is waiting to be eaten on the barrier when you get there." chapter xv return of the last supporting party scott had already made a great geographical journey in spite of adverse weather conditions, which had severely handicapped him throughout, but he was nevertheless behindhand in his expectations, and although the attainment of the pole was practically within his grasp, the long 900 mile march homeward from that spot had to be considered. it was principally on this account that captain scott changed his marching organisation and took bowers from the last supporting party. after the first day's homeward march i realised that the nine hours' marching day was insufficient. we had to make average daily marches of 17 miles in order to remain on full provisions whilst returning over that featureless snow-capped plateau. although the first day northward bound was radiantly fine and the travelling surface all that could be desired, we were compelled to push on until quite late to ensure covering the prescribed distance--for a short march on the first day would have augured a gloomy future for us. reluctant as i was to confess it to myself, i soon realised that the ceding of one man from my party had been too great a sacrifice, but there was no denying it, and i was eventually compelled to explain the situation to lashly and crean and lay bare the naked truth. no man was ever better served than i was by these two; they cheerfully accepted the inevitable, and throughout our home-ward march the three of us literally stole minutes and seconds from each day in order to add to our marches, but it was a fight for life: the rarified air made our breathing more difficult, and we suffered from shortness of breath whenever the inequalities of the surface became severe, and sudden jerks conveyed themselves to our tired bodies through the medium of the rope traces. day after day we fought our way northward over the high polar tableland. the silence now that we had no other party with us was ghastly, for beyond the sound of our own voices and the groaning of the sledge runners when the surface was bad there was no sound whatever to remind us of the outer world. as mile after mile was covered our thoughts wandered from the expedition to those in our homeland, and thought succeeded thought while the march progressed until the satisfying effect of the last meal had vanished and life became one vast yearning for food. three days after leaving captain scott we encountered a blizzard and were forced to continue our marches although faced with navigational difficulties which made it impossible for us to maintain more than a very rough northward direction. muffled up tightly in our wind-proof clothing, -we did all in our power to prevent the dust-fine snow-flakes which whirled around from penetrating into the tiniest opening in our clothes. the blizzard blinded and baffled us, forcing us always to turn our faces from it. the stinging wind cut and slashed our cheeks like the constant jab of a thousand frozen needle points. this first blizzard which fell upon us lasted for three whole days, and at the end of that time we found ourselves considerably wide of our course. on the 7th january, in spite of a temperature of 22 degrees below zero, a fresh southerly wind and driving snow, lashly, crean, and myself laid 19 miles behind us. on the 8th we again covered this distance, although the weather was so bad that we entirely lost the track, and on the following day, when the blizzard was at its worst, we fought our way forward for over 16 miles. when the blizzard eventually abated we had hazy weather, but got an occasional glimpse of the sun, with which we corrected our course, and on the 13th january my party found itself right above the shackleton icefalls, and gazed down upon the more regular surface of the beardmore glacier hundreds of feet below us. to reach the glacier we were faced with two alternatives: either to march right round the icefalls, as we had done coming south, and thus waste three whole days, or to take our lives in our hands and attempt to get the sledge slap over the falls. this would mean facing tremendous drops, which might end in a catastrophe. the discussion was very short-lived, and with rather a sinking feeling the descent of the great ice falls was commenced. we packed our ski on the sledge, attached spiked crampons to our finnesko, and guided the sledge through the maze of hummocks and crevasses. the travelling surface was wind-swept and consequently too easy, for the sledge would charge down a slippery slope of blue ice and capsize time after time. in places the way became so steep that our united efforts were needed to avoid the yawning chasms which beset our path. we were compelled to remain attached to the sledge by our harness, for otherwise there was always the danger of our slipping into one of the very crevasses that we were keeping the sledge clear of, and in this manner, with the jumping and jolting of that awful descent, frequent cases of over-running occurred, the sledge fouling our traces and whisking us off our feet. we encountered fall after fall, bruises, cuts, and abrasions were sustained, but we vied with one another in bringing all our grit and patience to bear; scarcely a complaint was heard, although one or other of us would be driven almost sick with pain as the sledge cannoned into this or that man's heel with a thud that made the victim clench his teeth to avoid crying out. the whole forenoon we worked down towards the more even surface of the great glacier itself, but the actual descent of the steep part of the shackleton icefalls was accomplished in half an hour. we came down many hundred feet in that time. none of us can ever forget that exciting descent. the speed of the sledge at one point must have been 60 miles an hour. we glissaded down a steep blue ice slope; to brake was impossible, for the sledge had taken charge. one or other of us may have attempted to check the sledge with his foot, but to stop it in any way would have meant a broken leg. we held on for our lives, lying face downwards on the sledge. suddenly it seemed to spring into the air, we had left the ice and shot over one yawning crevasse before we had known of its existence almost--i do not imagine we were more than a second in the air, but in that brief space of time i looked at crean, who raised his eyebrows as if to say, "what next!" then we crashed on to the ice ridge beyond this crevasse, the sledge capsized and rolled over and over, dragging us three with it until it came to a standstill. how we ever escaped entirely uninjured is beyond me to explain. when we had recovered our breath we examined ourselves and our sledge. one of my ski-sticks had caught on a piece of ice during our headlong flight and torn itself from the sledge. it rolled into the great blue-black chasm over which we had come, and its fate made me feel quite cold when i thought of what might have happened to us. when my heart had stopped beating so rapidly from fright, and i had recovered enough to look round, i realised that we were practically back on the beardmore again, and that our bold escapade had saved us three days' solid foot slogging and that amount of food. so we pitched our little tent, had a good filling meal, and then, delighted with our progress, we marched on until 8 p.m. that night in our sleeping-bags we felt like three bruised pears, but being in pretty hard condition in those days, our bruises and slight cuts in no way kept us from hours of perfect, contented slumber. i see in my diary for january 13, 1912, i have noted that we came down 2000 feet, but i doubt if it really was as much--we then had no means of measuring. january 14 found us up at 5.45 (really only 4.45, because in order not to make my seamen companions anxious i handicapped my watch after first day's homeward march, putting the hands on one hour each morning before rising, and back when i got the chance, so that we marched from 10 to 12 hours a day). we hauled our sledge for six hours until we reached the upper glacier depot under mount darwin. here we took 3 1/2 days' stores as arranged, and after sorting up and repacking the depot had lunch and away down the glacier, camping at 7.30 p.m. off buckley island, fairly close to the land. temperature rose above zero that night. next day we were away at 8 a.m. with our crampons on, we came down several steep ice slopes, blue ice like glass, lashly hauling ahead and crean and i holding on to the sledge. we bumped a lot, and occasionally the sledge capsized. but we made good nearly 22 miles. we covered between 18 and 20 miles on january 16, and were in high glee at our progress. we camped, however, in amongst pressure ridges and huge crevasses, 14 miles from the cloudmaker or mid-glacier depot. we hoped next day to reach this depot. january 16 was a pleasant day, its ending peaceful, with a sufficiency of excellent sledging rations and the promise of a similar day to succeed it. on this day hopes had run high; our clothes were dry, the weather mild and promising, besides which, we were camped in the full satisfaction of having a good many miles in hand. we cheerfully discussed our arrival at the next depot, after which we knew that no anxieties need be felt, given even moderately good luck and weather, that did not include too great a proportion of blizzard days. the musical roar of the primus and the welcome smell of the cooking pemmican whetted our appetites deliciously, and as the three of us sat around the cooker on our rolled up fur bags, the contented expression on our dirty brown faces made our bearded ugliness almost handsome. we built wonderful castles in the air as to what luxuries lashly, who was a famous cook, should prepare on our return to winter quarters. there we had still some of the new zealand beef and mutton stored in my glacier cave, and one thing i had set my heart on was a steak and kidney pudding which my friend lashly swore to make me. after the meal we unrolled our sleeping-bags and luxuriantly got into them, for the recent fine weather had given us a chance to dry thoroughly the fur and get the bags clear of that uncomfortable clamminess due to the moisture from our bodies freezing until the sleeping-bags afforded but little comfort. the weather looked glorious, there was not a cloud in the sky, and towards 10 o'clock the sun was still visible to the s.s.w. we could see it through the thin, green canvas tent wall as we turned in, still in broad daylight, and the warmth derived from it made sleep come to us quite easily. i woke at five the next morning, and, rousing my companions, we were up and about in a minute. the primus stove and cooking apparatus were brought into the tent once more; our sleeping foot-gear was changed for our marching finneskoe and good steel-spiked crampons fixed to the soft fur boots to give us grip in places where the ice was blue and slippery. by 6 a.m. the little green tent was struck, the sledge securely packed, and the three of us commenced a day's march, the details of which, although it occurred over nine years ago, are so fresh in my memory that i have not even to refer to my sledging diary. we commenced the day unluckily, for a low stratus cloud had spread like a tablecloth over the beardmore and filled up the glacier with mist. this added tremendously to our difficulties in steering, for we had no landmarks by which to set our course, although i knew the approximate direction of descent and could make this by means of a somewhat inadequate compass. the refinements in steering were not sufficient to keep us on the good blue ice surface down which we could have threaded our way had we commanded a full view of the glacier. our route led us over rougher ice than we should normally have chosen, and the outlook was distinctly displeasing. the air was thick with countless myriads of tiny floating ice crystals, and the great hummocks of ice stood weirdly shapen as they loomed through the frozen mist. i appreciated that we were getting into trouble, but hoped that the fog would disperse as the sun increased its altitude. we fell about a good deal, and to my consternation the surface became worse and worse. we were, however, covering distance in an approximately northward direction, and our team achieved with stubborn purpose what would have appeared impossible to us when we first visited this great, white, silent continent. it was no good going back, and we could not tell whether the good track was to the right or the left of our line of advance. as new and more troublesome obstacles presented themselves, the more valiantly did my companions set themselves to win through. crean and lashly had the hearts of lions. the uncertain light of the mist worried us all three, and we were forced to take off our goggles to see to advance at all. we continued until midday, when to my great relief the mist showed signs of dispersing, and the sun, a sickly yellow orb, eventually showed through. it was surrounded by a halo which was reflected in rainbow colouring in the minute floating ice crystals. i looked round for a spot suitable for camping, for we were pretty well exhausted, and it was worth while waiting for the mist to disperse. no time would be wasted since the halt would do for our lunch. with the greatest difficulty we found amongst the hummocky ice a place to set up our tent. a space was found somehow, and rather gloomily the three of us made a cooker full of tea. we munched our biscuit in silence, for we were too tired to talk. from time to time i went outside the tent, and certainly the atmosphere was clearer. odd shapes to the east and west showed themselves to be the fringing mountains which so few eyes had ever rested on. gradually they took form and i was able more or less to identify our whereabouts. we finished our lunch, crean had a smoke, and then we got under way. a little discussion, a lot of support, and a wealth of whole-hearted good-fellowship from my companions gave me the encouragement which made leading these two men so easy. warmed by the tea, cheered by the meal, and rested by the halt, we pushed on once more, although to go forward was uncertain and to work back impossible since we were too exhausted to do such pulling upward as would be necessary to reach a place from whence a new start could be made, even if we succeeded in re-discovering our night camp of yesterday. for hours we fought on, sometimes overcoming crevasses by bridging them with the sledge where its length enabled this to be done. the summer sun had cleared the snow from this part of the glacier, laying bare the great blue, black cracks, and they were horrible to behold. if the breadth of a crevasse was too large to be crossed we worked along the bank until an ice bridge presented itself along which we could go. as the sun's rays grew more powerful, the visibility became perfect, and i must confess we were disappointed to see before us the most disheartening wilderness of pressure ridges and disturbances. we were in the heart of the great ice fall which is to be found half-way down the beardmore glacier. we struggled along, for there is no other expression which aptly describes our case. had we not been in superb physical training and in really hard condition all three of us must have collapsed. we literally carried the sledge, which weighed nearly four hundred pounds. when the afternoon march had already extended for hours we found ourselves travelling mile after mile across the line of our intended route to circumvent the crevasses. they seemed to grow bigger and bigger. at about 8 p.m. we were travelling on a ridge between two stupendous open gulfs, and we found a connecting bridge which stretched obliquely across. i saw that it was necessary to move round or across a number of these wide open chasms to reach the undulations which we knew from our ice experience must terminate this broken up part of the glacier. in vain i told myself that these undulations could not be so far away. to cross by the connecting bridge which i have just spoken about was, to say the least of it, a precarious proceeding. but it would save us a mile or two, and in our tired state this was worth considering. after a minutes rest we placed the sledge on this ice bridge, and, as crean described it afterwards, "we went along the crossbar to the h of hell." it was not all misnamed either, for lashly, who went ahead, dared not walk upright. he actually sat astride the bridge and was paid out at the end of our alpine rope. he shuffled his way across, fearful to look down into the inky blue chasm below, but he fixed his eyes on the opposite wall of ice and hoped the rope would be long enough to allow him to reach it and climb up, for he never would have dared to come back. the cord _was_ sufficient in length, and he contrived finally to make his way on to the top of the ridge before him. he then turned round and looked scaredly at crean and myself. i think all of us felt the tension of the moment, but we wasted no time in commencing the passage. the method of procedure was this. the sledge rested on the narrow bridge which was indeed so shaped that the crest only admitted of the runners resting one on each side of it; the slope away was like an inverted "v" and while lashly sat gingerly on the opposite ridge, hauling carefully but not too strongly on the rope, crean and i, facing one another, held on to the sledge sides, balancing the whole concern. it was one of the most exciting moments of our lives. we launched the sled across foot by foot as i shouted "one, two, three--heave." each time the signal was obeyed we got nearer to the opposite ice slope. the balance was preserved, of course, by crean and myself, and we had to exercise a most careful judgment. neither of us spoke, except for the launching signal, but each looked steadfastly into the other's eyes--nor did we two look down. a false movement might have precipitated the whole gang and the sledge itself into the blue-black space of awful depth beneath. the danger was very real, but this crossing was necessary to our final safety. as in other cases of peril, the tense quiet of the moment left its mark on the memories of our party for ever. little absurd details attracted all our attention, for instance, i noticed the ruts in the cheeks of my grimy _vis-ã -vis_, for crean had recently clipped his beard and whiskers. my gaze was also riveted on a cut, or rather open crack caused in one of his lips by the combined sun and wind. thousands of little fleeting thoughts chased one another through our brains, as we afterwards found by comparison, and finally we were so close to lashly that he could touch the sledge. he reached down, for the bridge was depressed somewhat where it met the slope on which he sat. he held on tight, and somehow crean and i wriggled off the bridge, sticking our crampons firmly into the ice and crawling up to where lashly was. we all three held on to the alpine line, and in some extraordinary fashion got to the top of the ridge, where we anchored ourselves and prepared to haul up the sledge. as i said before, it weighed about 400 lb., and to three exhausted men the strain which came upon us when we hauled the sledge off the bridge tested us to the limit of our strength. the wretched thing slipped sideways and capsized on the slope, nearly dragging us down into that icy chasm, but our combined efforts saved us, and once again the perils of the moment were forgotten as we got into our sledge harness and started to make the best of our way to the depot. by now we were exhausted, rudely shaken, and our eyes were smarting with the glare and the glint of the sun's reflections from that awful maze of ice falls. i felt my heart would burst from the sustained effort of launching that sledge, which now seemed to weigh a ton. there seemed no way out of this confused mass of pressure ridges and, crevasses. we were "all out," and come what may i had to change our tactics, accordingly i ordered a halt. no room could be found to pitch our tent and i could not see any possibility of saving my party. we could stagger on no farther with the dreadfully heavy sledge. the prospect was hopeless and our food was nearly gone. some rest must be obtained to give us strength for this absolute battle for life. the great strain of the day's efforts had thoroughly exhausted us, and it took me back to the last day of the december blizzard which caused the eventual loss of the polar party and the ruin of captain scott's so excellently laid plans. i remembered the poor ponies after their fourteen hours' march, their flanks heaving, their black eyes dull, shrivelled and wasted. the poor beasts had stood, with their legs stuck out in strange attitudes, mere wrecks of the beautiful little animals that we took away from new zealand, and i could not help likening our condition to theirs on that painful day. the three of us sat on the sledge--hollow-eyed and gaunt looking. we were done, our throats were dry, and we could scarcely speak. there was no wind, the atmosphere was perfectly still, and the sun slowly crept towards the southern meridian, clear cut in the steel blue sky. it gave us all the sympathy it could, for it shed warm rays upon us as it silently moved on its way like a great eye from heaven, looking but unable to help. we should have gone mad with another day like this, and there were times when we came perilously close to being insane. something had to be done. i got up from the sledge, cast my harness adrift, and said, "i am going to look for a way out; we can't go on." my companions at first persuaded me not to go, but i pointed out that we could not continue in our exhausted condition. if only we could find a camping place, and we could rest, perhaps we should be able to make a final effort to get clear. i moved along a series of ice bridges, and the excitement gave me strength once more. i was surprised at myself for not being more giddy when i walked along the narrow ice spines, but the crampons attached to my finneskoe were like cat's claws, and without the weight of the sledge i seemed to develop a panther-like tenacity, for i negotiated the dangerous parts with the utmost ease. after some twenty minutes hunting round i came to a great ice hollow. down into it i went and up the other side. this hollow was free from crevasses, and when i got to the top of the ice mound opposite i saw yet another hollow. turning round i gazed back towards where i had left our sledge. two tiny, disconsolate figures were silhouetted against the sunlight--my two companions on our great homeward march, one sitting and one standing, probably looking for my reappearance as i vanished and was sighted again from time to time. i felt a tremendous love for those two men that day. they had trusted me so implicitly and believed in my ability to win through. i turned northward again, stepped down into the next hollow and stopped. i was in an enormous depression but not a crevasse to be seen, for the sides of the depression met quite firmly at the bottom in smooth, blue, solid ice. in a flash i called to mind the view of the ice fall from the glacier on our outward journey with captain scott, i remembered the huge frozen waves, and hoped with all my optimistic nature that this might be the end of the great disturbance. i stood still and surveyed the wonderful valley of ice, and then fell on my knees and prayed to god that a way out would be shown me. then i sprang to my feet, and hurried on boldly. clambering up the opposite slope of ice, i found a smooth, round crest over which i ran into a similar valley beyond. frozen waves here followed in succession, and hollow followed hollow, each less in magnitude than its forerunner. suddenly i saw before me the smooth, shining bed of the glacier itself, and away to the north-west was the curious reddish rock under which the mid glacier depot had been placed. my feelings hardly bear setting down. i was overcome with emotion, but my prayer was answered and we were saved. i had considerable difficulty in working back to the party amongst the labyrinth of ice bridges, but i fortunately found a patch of hard snow whereon my crampons had made their mark. from here i easily traced my footmarks back, and was soon in company with my friends. they were truly relieved at my news. on consulting my watch i found that i had been away one hour. it took us actually three times as long to work our sledge out into the smooth ice of the glacier, but this reached, we camped and made some tea before marching on to the depot, which lay but a few miles from us. we ate the last of our biscuits at this camp and finished everything but tea and sugar, then, new men, we struck our little camp, harnessed up and swept down over the smooth ice with scarcely an effort needed to move the sledge along. when we reached the depot we had another meal and slept through the night and well on into the next day. consulting my old antarctic diary i see that the last sentence written on the 17th january says, "i had to keep my goggles off all day as it was a matter of life or death with us, and snow blindness must be risked after ..." (a gap follows here until 29th january). the next day i had an awful attack of snow blindness, but the way down the glacier was so easy that it did not matter. i forgot whether lashly or crean led then, but i marched alongside, keeping in touch with the trace by hitching the lanyard of my sundial on to it and holding this in my hand. i usually carried the sundial slung round my neck, so that it was easy to pick it up and consult it. that day i was in awful pain, and although we had some dope for putting on our eyes when so smitten, i found that the greatest relief of all was obtained by bandaging my eyes with a poultice made of tea leaves after use--quaint places, quaint practices but the tip is worth considering for future generations of explorers and alpine climbers. our homeward march continued for day after day with no very exciting incidents. we met no more crevasses that were more than a foot or so wide, and we worked our way down on to the great ice barrier with comparatively easy marches, although the distances we covered were surprising to us all--seventeen miles a day we averaged. on the 30th january lashly and i had been fourteen weeks out, and we had exhausted practically every topic of conversation beyond food, distances made good, temperatures, and the weather. crean, as already set down, had started with the main southern party a week after lashly and i had first set out as the pioneers with those wretched failures, the motor sledges. by this time i had made the unpleasant discovery that i was suffering from scurvy. it came on with a stiffening of the knee joints, then i could not straighten my legs, and finally they were horrible to behold, swollen, bruised, and green. as day followed day my condition became worse: my gums were ulcerated and my teeth loose. then finally i got haemorrhage. crean and lashly were dreadfully concerned on my behalf, and how they nursed me and helped me along no words of mine can properly describe. what men they were. those awful days--i trudged on with them for hundreds of miles, and each step hurt me more. i had done too much on the outward journey, for what with building all the depot cairns ahead of the pony party, and what with the effects of the spring sledge journey, too much had been asked of me. i had never been out of harness from the day i left hut point, for even with the motor sledges we practically pulled them along. crean had had an easier time, for he had led a pony up to the foot of the beardmore glacier, and lashly had not done the spring sledging journey, which took a certain amount out of me with its temperatures falling to 73 degrees below zero. the disappointment of not being included in the polar party had not helped me much, and i must admit that my prospects of winning through became duller day by day. i suffered absolute agonies in forcing my way along, and eventually i could only push myself by means of a ski-stick, for i could not step out properly. i somehow waddled on ski until one day i fainted when striving to start a march. crean and lashly picked me up, and crean thought i was dead. his hot tears fell on my face, and as i came to i gave a weak kind of laugh. they rigged the camp up once more and put me in my bag, and then those two gallant fellows held a short council of war. i endeavoured to get them to leave me when they came in with their suggestions, but it was useless to argue with them, and i now felt that i had shot my bolt. i vainly tried to persuade them to leave me in my sleeping-bag with what food they could spare, but they put me on the sledge, bag and all, and strapped me as comfortably as they could with their own sleeping-bags spread under me to make for greater ease. how weary their marches must have been--ten miles of foot slogging each day. i could see them from the sledge by raising my head--how slowly their legs seemed to move--wearily but nobly they fought on until one day a blizzard came and completely spoilt the surface. the two men had been marching nearly 1500 miles, their strength was spent, and great though their hearts were, they had now to give up. in vain they tried to move the sledge with my wasted weight upon it--it was hopeless. very seriously and sadly they re-erected our tent and put me once again inside. i thought i was being put into my grave. outside i heard them talking, low notes of sadness, but with a certain thread of determination running through what they said. they were discussing which should go and which should stay. crean had done, if anything, the lighter share of the work, as already explained, and he therefore set out to march thirty-five miles with no food but a few biscuits and a little stick of chocolate. he hoped to find relief at hut point. failing this, he would go on if possible to cape evans. crean came in to say good-bye to me. i thanked him for what he was doing in a weak, broken sort of way, and lashly held open the little round tent door to let me see the last of him. he strode out nobly and finely--i wondered if i should ever see him, again. then lashly came in to me, shut the tent door, and made me a little porridge out of some oatmeal we got from the last depot we had passed. after i had eaten it he made me comfortable by laying me on crean's sleeping-bag, which made my own seem softer, for i was very, very sore after being dragged a hundred miles on a jolting, jumping sledge. then i slept and awoke to find lashly's kind face looking down at me. there were very few wounded men in the great war nursed as i was by him. a couple of days passed, and every now and then lashly would open up the tent door, go out and search the horizon for some possible sign of relief. the end had nearly come, and i was past caring; we had no food, except a few paraffin saturated biscuits, and lashly in his weakened state without food could never have marched in. he took it all very quietly--a noble, steel true man--but relief did come at the end of that day when everything looked its blackest. we heard the baying of the dogs, first once, then again. lashly, who was lying down by my side quietly talking, sprang to his feet, looked out, and saw! they galloped right up to the tent door, and the leader, a beautiful gray dog named krisravitsa, seemed to understand the situation, for he came right into the tent and licked my hands and face. i put my poor weak hands up and gripped his furry ears. perhaps to hide my feelings i kissed his old hairy, siberian face with the kiss that was meant for lashly. we were both dreadfully affected at our rescue. atkinson and the russian dog-boy, dimitri, had come out hot-foot to save us, and of all men in the expedition none could have been better chosen than "little aitch," our clever naval doctor. after resting his dogs and feeding me with carefully prepared foodstuffs, he got me on one sledge and lashly on the other, the dogs were given their head, and in little more than three hours we covered the thirty-five miles into hut point, where i was glad to see crean's face once more and to hear first hand about his march. it had taken him eighteen hours' plodding through those awful snows from our camp to hut point, where fortunately he met atkinson and dimitri and told them of my condition. after the expedition was over the king gave lashly and crean the albert medal for their bravery in helping me win through. it is little enough tribute that i have dedicated this book to these two gallant fellows. chapter xvi the pole attained--scott's last marches the details of scott's final march to the pole, and the heartrending account of his homeward journey, of evans's sad death, of oates's noble sacrifice, and of the martyr like end of wilson, bowers, and scott himself have been published throughout the length and breadth of the civilised world. in "scott's last expedition"--vol. i. the great explorer's journals are practically reproduced in their entirety. mr. leonard huxley, who arranged them in 1913, had had to do with scott's first work, "the voyage of the 'discovery'," and, as mr. huxley has said, these two works needed but little editing. scott's last fine book was written as he went along, and those of us who have survived the expedition and the great war, and we are few, are more than proud to count ourselves among the company he chose. a synopsis of his march from 87 degrees 35 minutes to the south pole, and a recapitulation of the events which marked the homeward march must certainly find their way into this book, which is after all only the husk of the real story. however much the story is retold--and it has been retold by members of the expedition as well as by others--the re-telling will never approach the story as told by scott himself: for the kernel one must turn to volume i, of "scott's last expedition": however, perhaps i can give something of interest; here is what little bowers says in extracts from his diary, given me by his mother: "_january_ 4.--packed up sledge with four weeks and three days' food for five men, five sleeping-bags, etc. i had my farewell breakfast with teddy evans, crean and lashly. teddy was frightfully cut up at not going to the pole, he had set his heart on it so. "i am afraid it was a very great disappointment to him, and i felt very sorry about it. poor teddy, i am sure it was for his wife's sake he wanted to go. he gave me a little silk flag she had given him to fly on the pole. after so little sleep the previous night i rather dreaded the march. "we gave our various notes, messages, and letters to the returning party and started off. they accompanied us for about a mile before turning, to see that all was going on well. "our party was on ski with the exception of myself. i first made fast to the central span, but afterwards connected up to the bow of the sledge, pulling in the centre between the inner ends of captain scott's and dr. wilson's traces. "this was found to be the best place, as i had to go my own step. teddy and party gave us three cheers and crean was half in tears. they had a featherweight sledge to go back with, of course, and ought to run down their distance easily. "we found we could manage our load easily, and did 6.3 miles before lunch, completing 12.5 by 7.15 p.m. our marching hours are nine per day. it is a long slog with a well-loaded sledge, and more tiring for me than the others as i have no ski. however, as long as i can do my share all day and keep fit, it does not matter much one way or the other. "we had our first north wind on the plateau to-day, and a deposit of snow crystals made the surface like sand latterly on the march. the sledge dragged like lead. in the evening it fell calm, and although the temperature was 16 degrees it was positively pleasant to stand about outside the tent and bask in the sun's rays. it was our first calm since we reached the summit too. our socks and other damp articles which we hang out to dry at night became immediately covered with long feathery crystals exactly like plumes. "socks, mitts, and finneskoe dry splendidly up here during the night. we have little trouble with them compared with spring and winter journeys. i generally spread my bag out in the sun during the 1 1/2 hours of lunch time, which gives the reindeer hair a chance to get rid of the damage done by the deposit of breath and any perspiration during the night...." he seemed to have made no entry for some days after this, but he is interesting to quote later. the polar party covered the 145 geographical miles that remained in a fortnight; on the 7th january they reached apparently the summit of the plateau, 10,570 ft. in latitude 88 degrees 18 minutes 70 seconds s. longitude 157 degrees 21 minutes e., but their marches fell short of expectations due to the bad surfaces met with. scott kept copious notes in his diary of everything that mattered. he was delighted with his final selection, and as usual pithy and to the point when describing. here, for example, is something of what he wrote of his companions: (from scott's last expedition, vol. 1) "wilson.--quick, careful and dexterous, ever thinking of some fresh expedient to help the camp life; tough as steel on the traces, never wavering from start to finish. "petty officer evans.--a giant worker, with a really remarkable headpiece--he is responsible for every sledge, every sledge-fitting, tents, sleeping-bags, harness, and when one cannot recall a single expression of dissatisfaction with any one of these items, it shows what an invaluable assistant he has been.... "bowers.--little bowers remains a marvel--he is thoroughly enjoying himself. i leave all the provision arrangements in his hands, and at all times he knows exactly how we stand ... nothing comes amiss to him, and no work is too hard.... "oates.--each is invaluable. oates had his invaluable period with the ponies: now he is a foot slogger and goes hard the whole time, does his share of camp work and stands the hardships as well as any of us. i would not like to be without him either. so our five people are perhaps as happily selected as it is possible to imagine." certainly no living man could have taken scott's place effectively as leader of our expedition--there was none other like him. he was the heart, brain, and master. on january 11 just the slightest descent had been made, the height up being now 10,540 ft., but it will be noticed that they were then getting temperatures as low as 26 degrees below zero: my party on that date got 10 degrees higher thermometer readings. surface troubles continued to waylay them, and their distances, even with five men, were disappointing, due undoubtedly to this. on 13th both bowers and scott write of a surface like sand, and of tugging and straining when they ought to be moving easily. on 14th some members began to feel the cold unmistakably, and on the following day the whole party were quite done on camping. the saddest note on the outward march is struck on january 16 when bowers sighted a cairn of snow and a black speck, which turned out to be a black flag tied to a sledge runner, near the remains of a camp--this after such a hopeful day on the 15th, when a depot of nine days food was made only 27 miles from the pole--and scott wrote in his diary: "... it ought to be a certain thing now, and the only appalling possibility the sight of the norwegian flag forestalling ours...." still, there it was, dog tracks, many of them, were picked up and followed to the polar area. scott, wilson, oates, bowers, and seaman evans reached the south pole on 17th january, 1912, a horrible day, temperature 22 degrees below zero. the party fixed the exact spot by means of one of our little four-inch theodolites, and the result of their careful observations located the pole at a point which only differed from amundsen's "fix" by half a mile, as shown by his flag. this difference actually meant that the british and norwegian observers differed by _one scale division on the theodolite_, which was graduated to half a minute of arc. experts in navigation and surveying will always look on this splendidly accurate determination as a fine piece of work by our own people as well as by the norwegian expedition. lady scott has remarked on the magnificent spirit shown by her husband and his four specially-selected tent-mates when they knew that queen alexandra's little silk union jack had been anticipated by the flag of another nation. scott and his companions had done their best, and never from one of them came an uncharitable remark. in our expedition committee minute book it is recorded that the following were found at the pole: a letter from captain amundsen to captain scott: "poleheim, 15th _december_, 1911. "dear captain scott,--as you probably are the first to reach this area after us, i will ask you kindly to forward this letter to king haakon vii. if you can use any of the articles left in the tent please do not hesitate to do so. the sledge left outside may be of use to you. with kind regards i wish you a safe return. "yours truly, roald amundsen." also another note: "the norwegian home, poleheim, is situated in 89 degrees 58 minutes s. lat. s.e. by e. compass 8 miles. (signed) roald amundsen. "15th _december_, 1911." the norwegian explorers' names recorded at poleheim were: roald amundsen, olaf bjaaland, helmer hanssen, oskar wisting, sverre hassel. scott left a note in the norwegian tent with the names of himself and his companions, and in his diary he agreed that the norwegian explorers had made thoroughly sure of their work and fully carried out their programme. scott considered the pole to be 9500 feet above the barrier--1000 feet lower than the plateau altitude in 88 degrees. bowers took the sights to fix the south pole. on the 19th january the northward march was commenced: the party had before them then a distance of over 900 miles (statute). bowers writes on this date quite nonchalantly: " ... a splendid clear morning, with fine s.w'ly wind blowing--during breakfast time i sewed a flap attachment on to my green hat so as to prevent the wind from blowing down my neck on the march. we got up the mast and sail on the sledge and headed north, picking up amundsen's cairn and our outgoing tracks shortly afterwards. along this we travelled until we struck the other cairn and finally the black flag where we had made our sixth (?) outward camp. we then with much relief left all traces of the norwegian behind, and i headed on my own track till lunch camp, when we had come 8.1 miles. in the afternoon we passed no. 2 cairn of the british route, and fairly slithered along with a fresh breeze. it was heavy travelling for me, not being on ski, but one does not mind being tired if a good march is made. we did 16 altogether for the day, and so should pick up our last depot to-morrow afternoon. the weather became fairly thick soon after noon, and at the end of the afternoon there was considerable drift with a mist caused by ice crystals and parhelion. "_january_ 20.--good sailing breeze again this morning; it is a great pleasure to have one's back to the wind instead of having to face it. it came on thicker later, but we sighted the last depot soon after 1 p.m. and reached it at 1-15 p.m. the red flag on the bamboo pole was blowing out merrily to welcome us back from the pole, with its supply of the necessaries of life below. we are absolutely dependent on our depots to get off the plateau alive, and so welcome the lovely little cairns gladly. at this one, called the 'last depot,' we picked up four days' food, a can of oil, some methylated spirit (for lighting purposes), and some personal gear we had left there. the bamboo was bent on to the floor-cloth as a yard for our sail instead of a broken sledge runner of amundsen's, which we had found at the pole and made a temporary yard of. as we had marched extra long in the forenoon in order to reach the depot, our afternoon march was shorter than usual. the wind increased to a moderate gale, with heavy gusts and considerable drift. we would have had a bad time had we been facing it. after an hour i had to shift my harness aft so as to control the motions of the sledge. "unfortunately the surface got very sandy latterly, but we finished up with 16.1 miles to our credit and camped in a stiff breeze, which rendered itself into a blizzard a few hours later. i was glad we had our depot safe. "_january_ 21.-wind increased to force 8 during night, with heavy drift; in the morning it was blizzing like blazes, and marching was out of the question. the wind would have been of great assistance to us, but the drift was so thick that steering a course would have been next to impossible, so we decided to await developments and get under way as soon as it showed any signs of clearing. fortunately it was short lived, and instead of lasting the regulation two days it went off in the afternoon, and 2.45 found us off with our sail full. it was good running on ski, but soft plodding for me on foot. i shall be jolly glad to pick up my dear old ski. they are nearly 200 miles away yet, however. the breeze fell altogether latterly, and i shifted up into my old place, a middle number of the five. our distance completed was 5.52 miles when camp was made again. our old cairns are of great assistance, also the tracks, which are obliterated in places by heavy drift and hard sastrugi, but can be followed easily. "_january_ 22.--we came across evans's sheep-skin boots this evening. they were almost covered after their long spell since they fell off the sledge. the breeze was in from the s.s.w., but got bright and light. at lunch camp we had completed 8.2 miles. in the afternoon the breeze fell altogether and the surface acted on by the sun became perfect sand-dust. the light sledge pulled by five men came along like a drag without a particle of slide or go in it. we were all glad to camp soon after 7 p.m. i think we were all pretty tired out. we did altogether 19.5 miles for the day. we are now only 30 miles from the 1 1/2 degree depot and should reach it in two marches with any luck. "_january_ 23.--started off with a bit of a breeze which helped us a little. after the first two hours it increased to force 4 s.s.w., and filling the sail we sped along merrily, doing 8 3/4 miles before lunch. in the afternoon it was even stronger. i had to go back in the sledge and act as guide and brakesman. we had to lower the sail a bit, but even then she ran like a bird. we are picking up our old cairns famously. evans got his nose frost-bitten, not an unusual thing with him, and as we were all getting pretty cold latterly, we stopped at a quarter to seven, having done 15 1/2 miles. we camped with considerable difficulty owing to the force of the wind. "_january_ 24.--evans got his fingers all blistered with frostbites, otherwise we are all well, but thinning, and in spite of our good rations getting hungrier daily. "i sometimes spend much thought on the march with plans for making a pig of myself on the first opportunity. as this will be after a farther walk of 700 miles they will be a bit premature. it was blowing a gale when we started, and it increased in force. finally, with the sail half down, one man detached tracking ahead, and titus and i breaking back, we could not always keep the sledge from over-running. the blizzard got worse and worse, till having done only 7 miles we had to camp soon after 12 o'clock. we had a most difficult job camping, and it has been blowing like blazes all the afternoon. i think it is moderating now--9 p.m. "we are only 7 miles from our depot and the delay is exasperating. "_january_ 25.--it was no use turning out at our usual time (5.45 a.m.) as the blizzard was as furious as ever. "we therefore decided on a late breakfast and no lunch unless able to march. we have only three days' food with us and shall be in queer street if we miss the depot. "our bags are getting steadily wetter, so are our clothes. "it shows a tendency to clear off now (breakfast time), so, d.v., we may march after all. i am in tribulation as regards meals now, as we have run out of salt, one of my favourite commodities. it was owing to atkinson's party taking back an extra tin by mistake from the upper glacier depot. "fortunately we have some depoted there, so i will only have to endure another two weeks without it. "10 p.m.--we have got in a march after all, thank the lord. "assisted by the wind we made an excellent run down to our 1 1/2 depot, where the big red flag was blowing out of driving drift. here we picked up 14 cans of oil, and one week's food for five men, together with some personal gear depoted. "we left the bamboo and the flag on the cairn. i was much relieved to pick up this depot; now we have only one other source of anxiety in the endless snow summit, viz., the third depot in latitude 86 degrees 56 minutes s. in the afternoon we did 5.2 miles. it was a miserable march, blizzard all the time and our sledge either sticking on sastrugi or overrunning the traces. we had to lower the sail half down, and titus and i hung on to her--it was most strenuous work as well as much colder than pulling ahead. most of the time we had to brake back with all our strength to keep the sledge from overrunning. bill got a bad go of sun-glare from following the track without goggles on. "_january_ 26.--this day last year we started the depot journey. i did not think so short a time would turn me into an old hand at polar travelling, neither did i imagine all the time that i would be returning from the pole. "_january_ 29.--our record march to-day. with a good breeze and improving surface we were soon in amongst the double tracks where the supporting party left us. then we picked up the memorable camp where i transferred to the advance party. how glad i was to change over. the camp was much drifted up, and immense sastrugi . . . etc." day's marches, temperatures, and so on, then his diary commences missing days out and only contains two line entries in short, sharp notes such as: "_january_ 31.--picked up depot 11.20 a.m. picked up my ski 6.15 p.m. no wind latterly--heavy surface. 13 1/2--bill's leg--evans's fingers--extra biscuits, etc."; and "_february_ 11.--very heavy surface--ice crystals--movement of upper currents--evans cook--finer weather--lower temperature--sastrugi. run 11.1." it was probably the beginning of the end. february brought little to the party but bad luck and reverses. wilson had strained a tendon in his leg. evans's fingers were in a bad state through frostbite, and on the first of the month scott himself had fallen and shaken himself badly. temperatures low, too low for any good surface. february 4 found the party amongst crevasses, both scott and evans falling into them. notwithstanding all their troubles they made a fine pace over the ice-capped plateau and down the beardmore. evans's fall on february 4 crocked him up a good deal, and he suffered from facial frostbites. his condition all the time now was causing the gravest anxiety. the summit journey ended on february 7. on the 8th valuable geological specimens were collected and brought along, and then the descent of the great glacier commenced. the beardmore temperatures to begin with were rather high, and scott seems to have considered this a disadvantage, for he says it made the party feel slack. evans was rested half-way down the beardmore, oates looking after him, while the other made a halt for geological investigation by the cloudmaker depot. but poor evans had sustained a severe concussion through falling and hitting his head on the 4th, and the party on his account was so delayed that the surplus foodstuffs rapidly diminished, and the outlook became serious. bad weather was again encountered, and on february 17, near the foot of the glacier, seaman evans died. wilson expressed the opinion that evans must have injured his brain by the fall. it was a great surprise to all of us to hear of evans failing so early, as he was known to be a man of enormous strength, and a tried sledger. he was also a veteran in antarctic experience, having made some wonderful journeys under scott in the "discovery" days. after reaching the lower glacier depot on the 17th the bereaved little band pushed northward with fine perseverance, although they must have known by their gradually shortening marches that little hope of reaching their winter quarters remained. their best march on the barrier was only 12 miles, and in the later stages their marches dropped to 4. the depots were, as stated, some 65 miles apart, but the temperatures fell as they advanced, instead of rising, as expected, and we find them recording -46.2 degrees one night. surfaces were terrible--"like pulling over desert sand, not the least glide in the world." poor oates's feet and hands were badly frostbitten--he constantly appealed to wilson for advice. what should he do, what could he do? poor, gallant soldier, we thought such worlds of him. wilson could only answer "slog on, just slog on." on march 17, which was oates's birthday, he walked out to his death in a noble endeavour to save his three companions beset with hardships, and as captain scott himself wrote, "it was the act of a brave man and an english gentleman--we all hope to meet the end with a similar spirit, and assuredly the end is not far." scott, wilson, and bowers fought on until march 21, only doing about 20 miles in the four days, and then they were forced to camp 11 miles south of one ton depot. they were kept in camp by a blizzard which was too violent to permit them to move, and on march 25 captain scott wrote his great message to the public: message to the public the causes of the disaster are not due to faulty organisation, but to misfortune in all risks which had to be undertaken. 1.--the loss of pony transport in march, 1911, obliged me to start later than i had intended, and obliged the limits of stuff transported to be narrowed. 2. the weather throughout the outward journey, and especially the long gale in 83 degrees s., stopped us. 3. the soft snow in lower reaches of glacier again reduced pace. we fought these untoward events with a will and conquered, but it cut into our provision reserve. every detail of our food supplies, clothing, and depots made on the interior ice sheet and over that long stretch of 700 miles to the pole and back worked out to perfection. the advance party would have returned to the glacier in fine form and with surplus of food, but for the astonishing failure of the man whom we had least expected to fail. edgar evans was thought the strongest man of the party. the beardmore glacier is not difficult in fine weather, but on our return we did not get a single completely fine day; this with a sick companion enormously increased our anxieties. as i have said elsewhere we got into frightfully rough ice, and edgar evans received a concussion of the brain--he died a natural death, but left us a shaken party, with the season unduly advanced. but all the facts above enumerated were as nothing to the surprise which awaited us on the barrier. i maintain that our arrangements for returning were quite adequate, and that no one in the world would have expected the temperatures and surfaces which we encountered at this time of the year. on the summit in latitude 85 degrees 86 degrees we had -20 degrees -30 degrees. on the barrier in latitude 82 degrees, 10,000 feet lower, we had -30 degrees in the day, -47 degrees at night pretty regularly, with continuous head wind during our day marches. it is clear that these circumstances come on very suddenly, and our wreck is certainly due to this sudden advent of severe weather, which does not seem to have any satisfactory cause. i do not think human beings ever came through such a month as we have come through, and we should have got through in spite of the weather but for the sickening of a second companion, captain oates, and a shortage of fuel in our depots, for which i cannot account, and finally, but for the storm which has fallen on us within 11 miles of the depot at which we hoped to secure our final supplies. surely misfortune could scarcely have exceeded this last blow. we arrived within 11 miles of our old one ton camp with fuel for one last meal and food for two days. for four days we have been unable to leave the tent--the gale howling about us. we are weak, writing is difficult, but for my own sake i do not regret this journey, which has shown that englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past. we took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of providence, determined still to do our best to the last. but if we have been willing to give our lives to this enterprise, which is for the honour of our country, i appeal to our countrymen to see that those who depend on us are properly cared for. had we lived, i should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every englishman. these rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely, surely a great rich country like ours will see that those who are dependent on us are properly provided for. (signed) r. scott. this chapter would be incomplete without wilson's own beautiful lines from the "south polar times"; the barrier silence the silence was deep with a breath like sleep as our sledge runner slid on the snow, and the fateful fall of our fur-clad feet struck mute like a silent blow. on a questioning "hush," as the settling crust shrank shivering over the floe; and the sledge in its track sent a whisper back which was lost in a white-fog bow. and this was the thought that the silence wrought as it scorched and froze us through, though secrets hidden are all forbidden till god means man to know. we might be the men god meant should know the heart of the barrier snow, in the heat of the sun, and the glow and the glare from the glistening floe, as it scorched and froze us through and through with the bite of the drifting snow. chapter xvii the second winter--finding of the polar party the foregoing story of triumph and disaster going hand in hand to scott dwarfed the remaining chapters of the expedition's history into insignificance. i venture, however, to give a resume of what was happening elsewhere in this region at the time. the norwegian explorers commenced their trip homeward to framheim in the bay of whales, a distance of 870 english miles, on december 17, 1911 and made the amazing marching average of 22 1/2 miles a day for this distance. on january 25, 1912, at 4 a.m., amundsen's men regained the shelter of their winter quarters, when poor scott was still only 30 miles from the pole on his return journey. this undoubtedly establishes the superiority of dogs in great numbers for polar sledge travelling, for scott delayed his start on account of the inability of his ponies to face the severity of the barrier weather conditions before november 1. peary in the north had already with dogs achieved what amundsen did in the south. captain amundsen has always expressed his wonder at our performance--and in his modest way he told me he himself could never have manhauled as scott's men did. concerning the attempts to support the southern party, scott's instructions were quite clear, and they were certainly obeyed. as a matter of fact there was never any anxiety felt for the southern party until after march 10. they themselves never imagined they would reach hut point before that time, and as the last supporting party had won through short-handed, and after pulling in harness for 1500 miles, it was not considered likely that the southern party would fail--unless overtaken by scurvy. what actually happened was this. stores were landed by those at the base station on the re-arrival of the "terra nova," and atkinson, who was the senior member of those not now returning in her to civilisation, took over the dogs according to scott's directions. he proceeded to hut point with dimitri and the two dog teams on 13th february, and was kept in camp by bad weather until 19th, when crean reached the hut and brought in the news of my breakdown and collapse at corner camp. a blizzard precluded a start for the purpose of relieving me, but this expedition was undertaken immediately the weather abated. it was only during a temporary clear that lashly and i were rescued. considering my condition, atkinson judged that if help could be obtained from cape evans, his duty was to stay with me and save my life if possible, and to depute cherry-garrard or wright to take the dog-teams out to one ton camp with dimitri. scott would have preferred wright to remain at cape evans, because he had now relieved simpson as physicist--simpson being recalled by the indian government. so it was decided that cherry-garrard should take out the teams, which he did, with twenty-four days' food for his own unit and two weeks' surplus stores for the southern party, with all kinds of special delicacies. the real object of this trip was to hasten the southern party's return rather than to succour them. cherry-garrard and dimitri had a tough time of it. they, however, reached one ton camp on march, and were held there by blizzard weather, which made travelling impossible. temperatures of 40 degrees below zero and lower were experienced, the dogs were suffering acutely, and cherry-garrard had to decide on the better course--to remain at one ton camp, which scott would surely make, if thus far north, with two competent navigators in his team, or to scout and risk missing the party, whilst using up the dogs' remaining strength. he very properly remained at one ton camp and made his depot on 10th march, and after satisfying himself that over a month's travelling rations were in the depot, cherry-garrard started homeward, but he had by no means a sinecure in this journey back--his dogs went wild at the start, smashed the sledge-meter adrift, fought, and would keep no definite direction, thick weather set in, and they had a fearful time marching northwards. the season was rapidly closing, and without the practice in fog navigation which the naval officers had, the situation of the unit was alarming. the two men got into severe pressure and found great open crevasses--this with their dogs ravenous and out of hand. dimitri practically collapsed, and being unable to express himself properly in english, one can picture what cherry-garrard had to contend with. late on march 16 they won through to hut point in exceedingly bad condition. atkinson was seriously alarmed, and had two more sick men to nurse back to strength. the dogs were frost-bitten, gaunt, and quite unfit for further work that season. meantime during the absence of the dog teams, before there was anxiety on scott's account, pennell, responding to atkinson's letter for help, brought the "terra nova" up towards hut point, and a party under rennick conveyed me in pitiful state to the ship in my sleeping-bag. i was placed in the captain's cabin, and given drake and day as nurses. i owe them a great debt too.