Lost in the land of ice

The cry that Bob uttered thrilled to the heart all who heard it.

“It is the Black Eagle!” ejaculated Barry. “See, the name is on the bow!”

“The treasure ship!” murmured Captain Gordon.

From the strange craft there now came a cry, faint but distinct.

“Ship ahoy! Ahoy! ahoy!”

“Ahoy there!” answered several voices in return.

“Who are you?” screamed Bob. “Tell me your name!”

“My name is Amos Baxter!” was the answer.

“My father! Found at last!” murmured Bob. His heart was in his throat. He raised his voice as best he could: “Father, do you know me? It is your son, Bob.”

“Bob! My Bob? Impossible!” and the man on the treasure ship crowded forward to the bow of the craft, which was half buried in the ice. “I must be dreaming!” and he pressed his hands to his forehead.

“No, you are not dreaming,” answered the boy. “I am Bob Baxter, and we have come to rescue you.”

“My son! my son!” moaned the man, and then of a sudden he fell flat upon the deck, having fainted from joy.

Poor Bob was almost as much affected, and had to be supported by Barry.

“Don’t die from joy, Bob,” said the young owner of the steam yacht, who also felt a bit queer. “Take it easy.”

“I—I must get to my father at once,” said Bob. “Captain Gordon, can’t we lower a small boat and go over?”

“Certainly,” answered the captain.

The Arrow came to a stop and soon the rowboat was over the side and Bob, Barry, and Captain Gordon entered it. The captain and Barry took up the oars and Bob stood in the bow, ready to leap upon the deck of the Black Eagle as soon as a landing could be made upon the rocks and ice.

They saw that the treasure ship was badly battered, and almost ready to fall to pieces. Her masts were gone, and her bow was broken, while there was a gaping hole in her starboard quarter.

Less than a hundred yards separated the steam yacht from the rocky shore, yet as the rowboat approached the rocks those on board felt a peculiar sensation steal over them and of a sudden the craft became stationary.

“What does this mean!” cried Captain Gordon. “I feel as if I were being stuck with a thousand needles!”

“It must be some magnetic or electric influence due to the nearness of the South Pole,” answered Barry. “Oh, my, I’m shaking like a leaf!”

And he was, and so was Bob. Try their best, they could not row the boat to the shore. It remained in one spot, spinning slowly around and around. In the mean time the piercing sensation became more painful than ever.

“We are caught by some Polar magnetism,” said Barry. “The best thing we can do is to get back to the Arrow and try to reach the Black Eagle by some other means.”

“And leave my father?” asked Bob, faintly. “No! no!” He leaped up. “I believe I can swim to that shore.”

“The water is icy!” said Captain Gordon.

“That won’t hurt me, you know. I have taken many a bath in ice water.”

Bob put his hand into the water. It had scarcely touched the fluid than he gave a gasp and fell back like one dead.

“He has been shocked!” muttered Barry, his face turning pale. “Pray Heaven he is not dead!” and he bent over his chum and felt of his heart, to find it beating faintly.

In the mean time, those left on the Arrow had watched the rowboat with keen interest.

“Something is wrong, dot’s certain,” said Stults. “Da can’t do noddings, py chiminy!”

“Arrow ahoy!” shouted Captain Gordon.

“What you vonts?” asked Stults.

“Throw us a line and pull us back to the yacht.”

“Why can’t we steam up to you?” asked the engineer of the yacht.

“No! no! We are caught by some Polar magnetism. Don’t bring the Arrow any closer, or she may not be able to get away again!”

A consultation was held on the steam yacht, and presently a long line was hurled forth.

The end fell over the rowboat’s stern, and Captain Gordon quickly made fast.

“Now sail away to the eastward!” cried the captain.

At once the engine of the steam yacht was put in motion.

Around and around flew the screw, churning up the water into a milky foam.

The yacht moved slowly, as if under a tremendous strain, and the rope became as tight as a whipcord.

Those in the rowboat felt as if they were filled with electricity, and when the small craft did finally leave the spot, it was as if the very hearts of the occupants were being pulled out of them.

But at last the rowboat was free and then the Arrow moved onward as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred.

When Captain Gordon and Barry carried Bob upon the deck of the steam yacht, the cold perspiration stood out in great beads upon their foreheads.

“That was an awful experience,” said the captain. “I wouldn’t want to go through it again for ten thousand dollars!”

For a while nothing was done excepting to try to bring poor Bob to his senses.

It took a long time, and when the lad recovered, he appeared to be half dazed still.

“Father! Father!” he murmured, over and over again. “Where are you? Did I not see you?”

“You’re all right, Bob,” said Barry, tenderly. “You were shocked, don’t you remember?”

“I—I think I do.”

“We have returned to the Arrow.”

“But my father?”

“We will get to him as quickly as we can. But we must go by some other route.”

A consultation was now held, and several scientific instruments were used by the captain and Barry.

Both came to the conclusion that the exact centre of the South Pole was at the spot where the rowboat had acted so strangely.

“It’s a wonder the magnetism didn’t draw us under the water,” observed Barry.

“The rowboat did go down several inches,” answered the captain. Then he continued: “I have a plan.”

“Well?”

“We had better make a landing farther down the coast and approach the treasure ship from the opposite side.”

“That’s an idea!”

“And let us make the landing at once,” put in Bob, faintly.

Soon the course of the Arrow was altered, and they ran down the shore for nearly half a mile.

Then they approached the shore with caution.

There was some magnetism still to be felt, but it was not strong enough to do the steam yacht any harm.

The Arrow was run into a small, ice-encircled bay, and made fast to the rocky shore.

It was no easy matter to gain the rocks, which were covered with ice as hard as flint and more slippery than glass.

But at last nearly all on board left the vessel, and then a march was begun toward the treasure ship.

Bob was impatient to push on ahead of the others, and Barry had all he could do to keep his chum back.

“Remember, the walking may be dangerous,” said the young yacht owner.

“Yes, yes; but I wish to get to my father.”

“We will soon be there. But look out for holes and cracks in this icy cliff. You might drop into some place that had no bottom.”

“I will be careful,” answered Bob, and tried again to go on ahead. Barry came close upon his heels.

Thus half the distance to the treasure ship was covered.

The Black Eagle was now in sight once more, and unable to restrain himself, Bob broke into a dog trot.

He was thinking only of the father from whom he had so long been separated.

Suddenly he tried to stop short, for a black hole yawned before him at his very feet.

But he was going too fast, and though he threw himself backward, the action came too late.

Down he slid, and Barry made a frantic clutch at his arm.

“Help!”

That was the single cry Bob uttered.

Then he went down and down, out of the light into utter darkness, with Barry on top of him.

Both struck into a drift of snow and plunged clear out of sight!