CHAPTER VIII

NECK OR NOTHING

"You hold on," objected Guy. "Your hands are as raw as uncooked beefsteak. I'll have a shot at it. I saw how Hawke did the trick."

Somewhat reluctantly Leslie gave way, at the same time cautioning Guy not to get caught by the blades of the propellers when the engine fired.

Pluckily Guy tackled the job. He did not relish it, for he knew to his cost what a back-fire meant. Once he had received a heavy blow from the starting handle of a motor-car, and that had, figuratively, knocked the stuffing out of him. Yet he was a lad who could be relied upon to come up to the scratch in a tight corner; so, setting his jaw tightly, he gave the propeller a lusty swing. Nothing favourable resulted.

Again and again he swung the blades, till his forehead was covered with frozen beads of perspiration. Sheer exhaustion forced him to desist.

"I believe the petrol is frozen," he declared breathlessly.

Then Leslie tried his utmost, but without success. It seemed as if the sleigh with its three occupants were fated to be stranded miles from the ship.

"We'll have to drag the beastly thing," declared Guy. "It won't take much effort, once we get it going."

Leslie thought otherwise. He could see the former track of the runners fading into the distance. Between them and the _Polarity_ were obstacles in the shape of several small fissures and long ridges of ice that could not be overcome by manual labour.

Just then Hawke opened his eyes, wearily, like a man aroused from a deep slumber.

"What's up?" he asked vacantly.

Leslie came straight to the point.

"You've been badly knocked about by the bear. We've settled him all right. We want to take you back to the ship, but we can't restart the engine."

With a considerable effort Hawke turned his head and looked at the controls by the seat behind him.

"I don't wonder," he replied. "The ignition's switched off. Press that catch down and try again."

He attempted to rise, but being aware for the first time that his left arm was useless, he subsided with a groan.

"Knocked clean out," he murmured, loud enough for Leslie to overhear. "And Ranworth wants the big sleigh to start as soon as possible. I've kippered the whole scheme by letting that bear maul me. What a fool I was not to keep the rifle loaded."

At the next attempt the motor fired easily. Taking his seat, Leslie cautiously manipulated the controls. Away glided the sleigh, but at a broad angle to the previous tracks.

The lad grasped the tiller. He was soon to find out how sensitive the rudder of an ice-craft can be, for the sudden application of the helm all but capsized the sleigh.

"Steady, man!" shouted Guy warningly, at the same time keeping Hawke in his seat, for the injured man had fainted again.

A very little practice on the smooth ice convinced Leslie that he had the sleigh under control. He had yet to negotiate the hummocks and the gaps of open water.

As the sleigh gathered way and finally settled to a forty-mile-an-hour pace, the lust of speed possessed the youthful helmsman.

The exhilaration of the swift motion made him forget his surroundings. He was beginning to enjoy something akin to the sensation of flight. As a passenger he had revelled in the outward trip; now, as helmsman and operator, he knew what being in charge of the speedy sleigh meant.

The first hummock Leslie took almost "bows on." The sleigh, striking the slopes rather obliquely, seemed to leap upwards and sideways in the air; then, hitting the ice with tremendous force, it rocked from side to side for about a hundred yards, before it steadied itself on its main runners.

Suddenly Leslie saw before him a broad gap in the ice. It must have widened considerably since the outward journey.

Approaching the dangerous crevasse almost at the rate of an express train, there was no avoiding it. To attempt to swerve sufficiently would mean disaster; to take it otherwise than "bows on" would spell certain death. Even as it was, it seemed impossible for the sleigh to leap across the widening space.

"Neck or nothing," thought Leslie. He shut his jaws tightly and gave the motor full throttle.

As luck would have it, the breaking of the ice had resulted in a small mound being thrown near the edge of the gap. Like a bird the sleigh mounted the incline, and with its own momentum completely cleared the death-trap beyond. Well it was that the runners were strong and true, and that the body of the sleigh was well sprung, for with a crash the swiftly-moving vehicle alighted on the far side.

"Twelve feet if it's an inch," murmured Leslie. "She took it splendidly, but all the same I don't want to have to repeat the experiment."

Fortunately, although there were other cracks in the ice, there were no obstacles of such size as the one they had just overcome, and without further incident the sleigh came to a standstill within twenty feet of the ship.

"What has happened?" asked Ranworth anxiously, as he caught sight of Aubrey Hawke's unconscious form.

Briefly Leslie related what had taken place.

"Hawke showed an error of judgment in not keeping his rifle loaded," commented Ranworth. "Of course, we are all apt to do that, but in his case it was most unfortunate. Goodness only knows what will happen as regards the electric sleigh. Our chief asset is now practically useless. But it is no use worrying. What is done cannot be undone."

"I brought this sleigh back, sir," began Leslie, then, self-conscious at his spontaneous boast, he stopped.

"Yes, you did remarkably well, my lad," agreed Ranworth.

"Then couldn't I have a shot at the big sleigh?" continued Leslie. "I understand the mechanism, and from what Mr. Hawke has told me the steering is very similar to that of the one I have just brought back. I'll do my level best, sir; and Guy will lend me a hand."

Ranworth paused before replying. He had already proof of Leslie's courage; he knew that the lad had a better knowledge of the giant sleigh than any other member of the expedition, Aubrey Hawke excepted. Since Aubrey Hawke was crippled with a broken arm, and suffering from shock, it was doubtful whether he would again be able to take an active part in the expedition.

Yet, Ranworth reflected, Leslie Ward was but a lad. It seemed too risky to entrust him with the important mission of piloting the electric sleigh to the aid of the sorely-pressed explorers.

"Let the youngster have a cut at it, sir," broke in Captain Stormleigh. "If the worst comes to the worst, we can fetch him back by means of the other sleigh, and do our best to get in touch with your brother's party by tramping it. But it strikes me, sir, that the lad is one who gets there somehow, as they say in the States. Let him try his hand, sir."

"How long do you think will it take to cut a passage for the _Polarity_?" demanded Ranworth.

"Five days, sir, at the present rate of progress. Less, if the pack is breaking up; more if the ice is 'jamming' away to the nor'ard."

"And five days even may be too late," rejoined Ranworth. "Leslie, I must accept your offer, and may good fortune attend our efforts."

The amended plan was forthwith put into operation. The hatches were uncovered, and the huge sleigh hoisted out by means of a derrick and landed on the ice. While Leslie was superintending the fitting of the twin propellers, upon the delicate adjustment of which depended the easy running of the enormous fabric, Ranworth, assisted by the second mate, was busily engaged in loading up the sleigh with stores and provisions necessary for the trip.

Ranworth was to take charge of the rescue party, and to be responsible for the correct course from Desolation Inlet to Observation Camp. Having no experience in mechanism or electrical engineering, he was compelled to entrust the care of the motors to Leslie Ward.

On the lad's skill the success of the dash to Observation Camp would largely depend, for in the event of a mechanical breakdown that could not be rectified by the person in charge, the sleigh and its occupants would be helplessly stranded, while the chances of rescuing Claude Ranworth's party would be very slight.

Guy was to accompany Leslie as his assistant, while two seamen having previous experience in Polar work, completed the crew of the sleigh.

At length the preparations were complete. A preliminary trial of the motors alone was necessary before setting out on the dash into the unknown.

Accordingly, the sleigh was anchored by two stout ropes attached to grapnels imbedded in the ice. There was no need to swing the propellers; a patent starting device enabled the operator to work everything in connection with the motors from the seat within the for'ard cabin.

The engines started without a hitch. The huge contrivance trembled and strained at the mooring ropes, as if eager to dash into the fray. To Leslie's great satisfaction, the "pull" of each propeller was equal to the other. It was a triumph for his skill in adjusting the other.

"Everything correct, sir," he reported, after having switched off the current.

"Good," ejaculated Ranworth. "We'll start at once. Nothing overlooked in your department, Rogers; nor in yours, Payne?"

Both seamen expressed their opinion that the gear for which they were responsible was quite in order.

"Good-bye, my lads," exclaimed Ranworth, addressing the ship's company.

The work of cutting a channel for the _Polarity_ had been temporarily suspended in order that the men might bid the rescue party God speed. Led by Captain Stormleigh, the men gave three rousing cheers, waving their ice-axes and crowbars with the utmost enthusiasm.

"Cast off, there!" ordered Captain Stormleigh.

Half a dozen of the _Polarity's_ crew promptly released the grapnels. The sleigh was now free to proceed.

Ranworth turned towards Leslie and held up his hand.

A touch on a switch, and both propellers began to spin rapidly. For a brief interval the sleigh quivered, without making any definite progress; then, almost imperceptibly gathering way, she glided smoothly in the direction of Desolation Inlet.