Boy Aviators' Polar Dash; or, Facing Death in the Antarctic Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  A TRAGEDY OF THE SKIES.

  It was soon evident that the two men were supporting themselves in thewater. Their heads made black dots on the surface beneath which theheavy deck structure of the dirigible had vanished. Through theglasses it could be seen that they were swimming about awaiting thearrival 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 buoyswere hastily cast over the side. But even as one of the men grasped arope'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 thenthere was a whitish gleam as the monster shark turned on its back withits 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 hiscabin for his magazine weapon but when he reappeared there was only acrimson circle on the water to mark where the terrible, man-killingshark had vanished with his prey. Attracted, no doubt, by themysterious sense that tells these sea tigers where they can snap up ameal, other dark fins now began to cut through the water in alldirections.

  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 fewseconds he had been hauled to the vessel's side and several of thecrew were preparing to hoist him on board when two of the monstersmade a simultaneous rush at him, Frank's revolver cracked at the sameinstant 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 inhis half famished condition and with the great beard that he worethere was something very familiar--strangely so--about him to theboys. Frank was the first to solve the mystery.

  "Ben Stubbs," he exclaimed.

  "Who's that that called Ben Stubbs," exclaimed the man over whom adozen 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 boysin Africa and the Everglades and shared their perils in the SargassoSea, was comical to behold.

  "Well, what in the name of the great horn-spoon air you boys doinghere," he gasped, for Harry and Billy had now come forward and werewarmly 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 somethingto eat while he talks," suggested Captain Hazzard to the boys.

  All agreed that that would be a good idea and the castaway wasescorted to the cabin table on which Hiram Scroggs the Vermonter soonspread 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 aroundin a dirigible?"

  "That's it," cried Billy.

  "It's just this way," resumed the old sailor drawing out his agedpipe. "Yer see, my pardner, James Melville,--that's the poor fellerthat's dead,--and me was trying out his new air-craft when we gotblown out ter sea. We'd been goin' fer two days when you picked up thewireless call for help he was sending out. I used ter say thatwireless was a fool thing ter have on an air-ship, but I owe my lifeter it all right.

  "Ter go back a bit, I met Melville soon after we got back from thetreasure hunt. He was a friend of my sister's husband and as full ofideas as a bird dog of fleas. But he didn't have no money to carry outhis inventions and as I had a pocketful I couldn't exactly figure howto use, I agreed to back him in his wireless dirigible. We tried herout several times ashore and then shipped her to Floridy, meaning totry to fly to Cuba. But day afore yesterday while we was up on a trialflight the wind got up in a hurry and at the same moment somethingbusted on the engine and, before we knew where we was, we was out atsea."

  "You must have been scared to death," put in Professor Sandburr whowas an interested listener.

  "Not at first we wasn't. Poor Melville in fact seemed to think it wasa fine chance to test his ship. He managed to tinker up the engineafter working all night and part of yesterday on it and as we hadplenty to eat and drink on board--for we had stocked the boat uppreparatory to flying to Cuba--we didn't worry much.

  "Howsomever, early this morning, after we'd had the engine going allnight we found we was still in the same position and for a mighty goodreason--one of the blades of the propeller had snapped off and therewe were,--practically just where we'd been the night before and withno chance doing anything but drift about and wait for help. Melvillenever lost his nerve though.

  "'We'll be all right, Ben,' says he to me, and though I didn't feelnear so confident, still I chirped up a little for I had been feelingpretty blue, I tell you.

  "Right after we had had a bite to eat he starts in hammering away atthe wireless, sending out calls for help while I just sat around andhoped something would turn up. Some observations we took showed thatwe had not drifted very much further from land in the night on accountof there being no wind. This looked good for it meant that we were, orshould be, in the path of ships. The only thing that worried me wasthat mighty few coasting vessels carry wireless, and I was surprisedwhen 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 thebag. The air had grown hot as an oven as the sun rose higher and aboutnoon I looked up just to see if there wasn't a cloud in the sky thatmight mean a storm, and perhaps a change of wind that maybe would blowus back over land again. What I saw scared me. The bag was blown outas tight as the skin of a sausage, and it didn't look to me as if itcould swell much more without busting.

  "I pointed it out to Melville and he went up in the air--worried todeath.

  "'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, 'whenthe evening comes and the gas condenses, with what we've lost, if wepull the valve open, we won't have enough to keep the ship in theair.'

  "'There's only one thing to do,' he went on, 'we must wait till thisship I've been speaking to by wireless comes in sight. Then we'll takea chance. If the worst comes to worst we can float about till theypick 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 bustin a second's time and we tried to open the valve--we couldn't. Thehalliards that work it had got twisted in the gale that blew us out tosea and they wouldn't come untangled.

  "Melville takes a look at the pressure gauge. Then he gave a longwhistle.

  "'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 Ikicked 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," putin Billy.

  "Wall," continued the old sailor, "I managed fine at first, althoughthat thar gas sausage was stretched as smooth and tight as a drum. Thenetwork around it gave me a foothold though, and once I was half-wayround the lower bulge of the bag--where I was clinging on upsidedown,--I was all right.

  "I had the valve lever in my hand and was just going to open it when Ifelt everything cave in around me like something had been pulled fromunder my feet--or as if I had been sitting on a cloud and it hadmelted.

  "The dirigible had blown up.

  "Luckily I kept my wits about me and deliberately made a dive for thesea. It was a good height but I struck it clean. Down and down I wenttill I thought I'd never come up again. My ear-drums felt li
ke they'dbust and my head seemed to have been hit with an axe. But come up Idid 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. Therest you know."

  Ben's voice shook a little as he reached the latter part of hisnarrative. The rugged sailor's face grew soft and he winked back atear. The others said nothing for a few seconds and then CaptainHazzard looked up.

  "Since you have become one of us in such a strange way, I presume youwould like to know where we are bound for?"

  "Wall, if it ain't askin' too much I would," rejoined the ruggedadventurer.

  "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 needa bos'n, will you sign on? If you do not care to we will put youashore at the first convenient port or hail a homeward-bound ship andhave you transferred."

  The old sailor looked positively hurt.

  "What; me lose an opportunity to see the South Pole, to shoot Polarbears--"

  "There aren't any," put in Billy.

  "Wall, whatever kind of critters there are there," went on the oldman, "no, sir; Ben Stubbs ain't the man to hold back on a venture likethis. Sign me on as bos'n, and if I don't help nail Uncle Sam's colorsto the South Pole call me a doodle-bug."

  "A doodle-bug," exclaimed Professor Sandburr, "What kind of a bug isthat? If you know where to find them I hope you will catch one andforward 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 signatureon the ship's books.

  On and on toward the Pole plied the Southern Cross. One night when shewas about two hundred miles at sea off the mouth of the Amazon, theboys, as it was one of the soft tropical nights peculiar to thoseregions, were all grouped forward trying to keep cool and keeping asharp lookout for the real Southern Cross. This wonderful, heavenlybody might be expected to be visible almost any night now, CaptainHazzard had told them. Old Ben shared their watch.

  The little group was seated right on the forefoot or "over-hang" ofthe polar ship, their legs dangling over the bow above the water.Beneath their feet they could see the bright phosphorous gleam as theship ploughed onward. They were rather silent. In fact, except fordesultory conversation, the throb of the engines and the regularsounding of the ship's bell as it marked the hours were the onlysounds to be heard.

  It was past eight bells and everyone on the ship but the helmsman hadturned in, leaving the boys and Ben on watch, when there came aterrific shock that caused the vessel to quiver and creak as if shehad run bow on into solid land. Captain Hazzard was thrown from hisbunk and all over the vessel there was the wildest confusion.

  Shouts and cries filled the air as Captain Hazzard, not able toimagine what had happened rushed out on deck in his night clothes. Thesky had become overcast and it was terribly black. It was hardlypossible for one to see his hand before his face. A heavy sulphuroussmell was in the air.

  "What is it? What has happened? Did we hit another ship?" shoutedCaptain Barrington, appearing from his cabin.

  The helmsman could give no explanation. There had been a sudden shockand he had been knocked off his feet. What had struck the ship or whatshe had struck he could not make out. Captain Barrington knew therewere no rocks so far out at sea and he also knew that he could not benear land. The only explanation was a collision with another ship, buthad that been the case surely, he argued, they would have heard shoutsand cries on the other vessel.

  "Send forward for the boys and Ben Stubbs, they had the watch," hecommanded.

  A man hurried forward to execute his order but he was soon back with awhite scared face.

  "The young lads and Bos'n Stubbs aren't there," he exclaimed in afrightened tone.

  "Not there," repeated Captain Hazzard.

  "No, sir. Not a trace of them. Beggin' your pardon, sir, I think it'sghosts."

  "Don't talk nonsense," sharply commanded his superior. "Have the shipsearched for them."

  "Very good, sir," and the man, with a tug at his forelock, hastenedaway to spread the word.

  But a search of every nook and cranny of the ship only added to themystery.

  Neither the boys nor Ben were to be found.

  Had ghosts indeed snatched them into aerial regions, as some of themore superstitious men seemed inclined to believe they could not havevanished more utterly.