CHAPTER XV.
THE NORTH POLE.
AT the twenty-third hour after leaving Portsmouth the "Meteor" cameto rest on the ice under the lee of Cape Columbia and within threehundred yards of the "New Resolute," the ship of the British ArcticExpedition.
News of the airship's approach had already been communicated bywireless, and as she gracefully settled upon the ice she was greetedby three tremendous cheers from the crew of the ship.
But Dacres knew nothing of this. As soon as Cape Columbia had beensighted he went to his cabin to snatch a few hours' well-earned andneeded sleep. For the time being his responsibility was not inrequest.
Compared with the severity of the climate above the Greenland plateauthe temperature at Cape Columbia was milder. The "New Resolute,"although moored to the ice, was still afloat, and sheltered from allgales by the land-locked harbour.
From the captain the "Meteor's" people soon had a fairly definiteidea of the state of affairs.
Lieutenant Cardyke, with four men, had pushed on towards the pole,the party being accompanied by thirty-two Esquimo dogs. A portablewireless installation had been taken, so that the progress andwelfare of the expedition could be communicated to the base.
Favoured by fine weather Cardyke and his companions made rapidprogress compared with the distance covered by previous Arcticexplorers. They reported that the hummocks gave considerable trouble,but there was no sign of open water.
Then with startling suddenness all wireless communication was brokenoff. A rescue party immediately set off, only to find that at a point150 miles north of Cape Columbia their progress was checked by anexpanse of open, agitated sea that had been formed by the separationof the ice-fields since Cardyke had traversed them. Reluctantly thesecond party had to turn back, and were almost hourly expected by the"New Resolute."
The "Meteor" did not wait long at Cape Columbia. Having secured theservices of two junior lieutenants to assist in the navigation of theairship, Whittinghame started on the 500 mile journey to the NorthPole.
Greatly to the relief of all on board, the motors began to workwithout the faintest hitch. The cordite fired at once. Had petrolbeen the fuel it was quite possible that the low temperature wouldhave greatly diminished its efficacy. Parsons was most enthusiasticover the matter. Although at first dubious about substituting corditefor petrol he was now firmly convinced that a perfect ignition chargehad been found.
Within half an hour after leaving Cape Columbia the "Meteor" passedover the relief party, who were dejectedly making their way back tothe ship. A greater contrast would be difficult to find: the airshipcutting rapidly and evenly through the air at three miles a minute;and half a dozen men, looking more like bundles of fur, ploddingpainfully along, glad to be able to cover two miles an hour. Even thedogs seemed to share their masters' dejection. Yet failure of therescue party did not prevent them from waving their arms to thefleeting airship, a compliment that the "Meteor," by reason of herspeed, was unable to return.
When at length Dacres awoke he knew by the motion of the airship thatthe "Meteor" was again under way. Quickly he made his way for'ard, tofind two strangers in charge of the navigation room.
"It's all right," said Whittinghame genially. "There's no slur uponyour prowess as a navigation officer, Dacres. We've obtained reliefsfor you. Allow me to introduce Mr. Quinton and Mr. Baskett to you."
Armed with powerful binoculars Whittinghame and his assistants sweptthe snow-field. According to the opinion of the "New Resolute's"officers the airship was now fairly close to the spot where Cardykewas last heard of. There was nothing to indicate the tracks of thesledges; a recent fall of snow had accounted for that. All they couldhope to do was to pick out some outstanding object, such as a tent ora snow hut, where the young officer and his four men might besheltering.
Speed had been reduced to fifty miles an hour, while frequently the"Meteor" made a deviation in order to give the look-out anopportunity to examine a dark patch upon the white waste. Invariablythe patch turned out to be the shadow of a hammock cast by theslanting rays of the ever-present sun, till Dr. Hambrough called hiscompanions' attention to a dark speck away on the starboard bow.
Round swung the "Meteor," the eyes of the watchers riveted on afluttering object that rapidly resolved itself into a flag. More, theflag was a Union Jack. Close to it, and hitherto invisible, was arounded hut made of blocks of ice, and half-buried in the snow.
"There they are!" exclaimed Setchell excitedly.
"I'm afraid not," said Lieutenant Baskett. "I can see no signs oftheir skis or of the sledges. But we're on their track, that's oneblessing."
Again the "Meteor" descended. Whittinghame would not run the risk ofdetaching one of the compartments, especially as there was abundantroom for the whole length of the airship to settle evenly. Heranchors held admirably in the rough ice, and with hardly a tremor shebrought up on terra firma.
Quickly the entry port was opened and the rope-ladder dropped.Whittinghame was the first to land, quickly followed by Dacres andthe two naval lieutenants.
With beating hearts they made their way over the ice and snow tillthey gained the hut, the four men gravely saluting the national flagas they passed by.
The doorway of the ice-hut had been blocked up--not by drifting snowbut by human hands. Whether this had been done from the inside orfrom without could not at present be determined. The ice was as hardas iron.
In response to a signal to the "Meteor," three of the crew came upwith ice-axes and shovels, and began a fierce attack upon the door.When the obstruction was removed the Captain entered.
His fears were realized. The hut was empty.
"Here's a tin containing some documents," he announced. "By Jove!Cardyke claims that this is the North Pole."
"He can't be so very far out," said Lieutenant Quinton. "Does he sayanything about the route?"
"No, only that he is returning after verifying his position, and asksthat the finder of the document should transmit it, if possible, tothe Admiralty."
"Run and fetch my sextant, Williamson," said Dacres.
"And mine," added Baskett.
Before the men could return Whittinghame pointed to a staffprojecting a few inches from the ground. Attached to it were thefragments of a flag, and by dint of removing a couple of feet of snowthe nationality of the flag became obvious. It had been the Stars andStripes.
"Peary's flag, by Jove!" ejaculated Whittinghame. "All honour,gentlemen, to that intrepid American. Even if an Englishman were notthe first to plant his country's flag at the North Pole there is nolittle consolation to be derived from the fact that an Anglo-Saxonestablished the priority."
When Williamson returned with the instruments the two officers madecareful separate observations, afterwards checking each other'sfigures. There was no mistake. The rescue party was standing on thenorthern extremity of the Earth's axis.
"Well, this won't find Cardyke, gentlemen," said Whittinghamesharply, breaking in upon the reveries of his companions. "What doyou propose to do? Return by a slightly different route?"
"Supposing Cardyke and his party are incapable of finding their way.They might be partially exhausted by their exertions and haveblundered in a totally different direction," suggested Baskett.
"Such an instance is not unknown," added Quinton.
"Then I propose to make several ever-widening circles. We ought tocommand a field extending twenty-five miles from the Pole. Let usreturn to the 'Meteor.'"
Rising to a height of five hundred feet the airship began to circle.In five minutes she had passed through every one of the three hundredand sixty degrees of longitude.
Miles of dreary waste lay beneath them. There was nothing to mark theposition of the North Pole save the almost invisible hut and twoflags, and nothing to break the horizon where the white plain mergedinto the pale blue of the Arctic sky.
Presently Dacres discovered signs of open water. A broad sea, itscoast-line extending through a hundred and eighty degrees oflong
itude, proved conclusively that Cardyke could not have blunderedfar in that direction. It was fairly evident the five men hadretraced their steps. The question that puzzled Whittinghame was, howcould the "Meteor" have missed the party on its flight to the Pole?
"We'll make our way back," he announced. "By keeping a zig-zag coursewe ought to come across some traces of them. Fifteen miles to theright and left of their supposed route ought to be ample."
To this the two naval officers agreed; but as the vertical rudderswere being put hard over, Dacres called the Captain's attention to adark object in a hollow at less than two miles off.
"It's far too large for a tent, Dacres," said Whittinghame. "But wemay as well investigate. To me it looks like a----yes, by George, itis! It's a derelict balloon."
"Andre!" exclaimed Baskett.
"I think you are right," said Whittinghame.
"Yes, it has been a balloon. There is the car, half-buried in snow.Evidently in strong winds the snow-drifts are uncovered, or otherwisein twenty years the remains would be buried fathoms deep."
"Are you going to investigate, sir?" asked Dr. Hambrough.
"Much as I should like to," replied Whittinghame gravely, "I mustdecline. The claims of those who may yet be living are more pressingthan those of the gallant dead. Perhaps, another time----"
He broke off abruptly to conceal his emotion, then having steadiedthe "Meteor" on her course, he relinquished the navigation into thehands of his able assistants.
For a long time no word was spoken. The memories of that mournfulwreck deeply affected the spirits of the intrepid rescuers. They feltthe irony of the situation, for had the gallant Frenchman delayed hisill-fated aerial voyage but a few years he might have been able tohave made good use of a dirigible instead of drifting helplessly tohis doom amid the awful solitudes of the Arctic.
Zig-zagging against the wind after the manner of a sailing-shiptacking, the "Meteor" resumed her quest. Two hours passed withoutresult. The airship was now almost within sight of the newly-openedsea caused by the breaking up of the ice-floes.
The crew were almost despairing of success, for twice the supposedroute of Cardyke's party had been examined. The Lieutenant and hismen had left the Pole: they could not cross the barrier formed by theopen sea. Where had they gone? Had they been buried beneath an almostirresistible blizzard? To add to the difficulties of the look-out,the sun was shining almost into the men's eyes, while an enormoustract of snow was covered by the reflected glare.
"We'll carry on till we are above the end of the pack-ice," saidWhittinghame. "Then, if we haven't sighted them, we'll turn again andgo back to the Pole. It is just possible----"
"What's that, sir?" interrupted Hambrough, his usually quiet mannergiving place to intense excitability. "See! almost beneath us!"
In another fifteen seconds the "Meteor" would have overshot the mark.Signalling full speed astern, Whittinghame kept the spot indicated bythe doctor under observation.
Five hundred feet below was a small black patch. It seemed soinsignificant that it resembled a fur cap accidently dropped uponthat trackless waste.
Under the retarding influence of the propellors the airship trembledso violently that it was almost an impossibility to bring glasses tobear upon the desired object, but when the "Meteor" lost way andorders had been given to the engineers to stop the motors, theoccupants of the navigation-room were able to examine the solitaryrelic.
"By Jove!" ejaculated Dacres. "It's a tent. Look. There are the skissticking up in the snow. Seven, eight, nine, ten of them. Then, thefive men are there."
"Hurrah!" shouted Baskett. "Are you going to let off a rocket, orhail them, sir?"
"Neither," replied Whittinghame shortly. He was tremendously excited,only he knew that there was a chance that even now they might be toolate.
Quickly the powerful pumps were set to work, and as the requirednumber of ballonettes were exhausted the "Meteor" sank gently to thesnow-clad ground. Thanks to the almost total absence of wind heranchors held without difficulty, although she had grounded nearlyeight hundred yards to leeward of the tent.
Leaving Setchell in charge, the rest of the officers lost no time indescending the rope-ladder and making for the resting-place of theexplorers. Somehow the rescuing party felt strained. They couldhardly understand why, in almost perfect weather as far as the Polarclimate went, the five men were not resuming their homeward march.The utter solitude of the black fur tent seemed ominous.
Although presenting the appearance of a level plain when viewed fromabove, the ground was rough, and encumbered with hummocks, while hereand there deep but narrow fissures required care and skill on thepart of the rescue party. Occasionally a deep groaning soundbetokened the appalling fact that the ground was one vast ice-floe inmomentary danger of breaking up.
If the five men were still alive, how could they be indifferent tothe danger that now threatened them?
Whittinghame was the first to gain the tent. With numbed fingers hecut the lashings that secured the flaps of the outer and innercoverings and peered within.
Five fur-clad forms lay upon a pile of skins, their heads buried intheir arms. Whether they were sleeping the long last sleep that knowsno awakening in this world, Whittinghame could not tell. Nervelesslyhe backed out and signed to Dacres to enter.
"Dead?" asked Dacres laconically.