Lost in the land of ice

“Bob!”

“Barry!”

“Where are you?”

“Here. And you?”

“Here.”

“And where are we both?”

“Down in some kind of a hole.”

“My ears are full of snow.”

“My mouth was full a minute ago. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Neither am I. It was a fortunate tumble after all.”

“Fortunate! How are we to get out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t say we are fortunate.”

For a moment after this there was silence, as both tried their best to get to the top of the snow, which had saved them from having their bones broken.

It was no easy task, and at first they sank deeper than ever.

In the mean time, those at the top of the opening were horrified over the turn of affairs.

“They are lost!” cried Captain Gordon. “Oh, but this is terrible!”

“And chust ven ve are py de end of der drip!” groaned Stults.

“We must do something for them.”

“Vot can ve do?”

“Did you bring the rope I mentioned?”

“Yah, captain.”

“I’ll tie it under my arms, and then you can let me down, and I’ll investigate. But don’t let me slip.”

The rope was speedily produced, and adjusted, and then the captain of the Arrow was let down over the edge of the split in the rocks.

He had just gained the top of the drifted snow when he saw a dark object coming to light.

It was Barry’s arm, and bending over he clutched at it and gave a pull.

Up came Barry, and with him, Bob; for the two chums had hold of each other’s hands.

“Good for you!” said Barry, as soon as he could speak.

“Haul us up!” shouted Captain Gordon, and those above did so. It was no easy task, and once it looked as if the rope would break.

But at last they stood again on the ice above, and none the worse for the unexpected adventure.

Looking round, they discovered a spot where the split could be crossed with ease, and here they went over, and then continued the journey toward the treasure ship.

As before, Bob kept in the front, and he was up the side of the Black Eagle and on the deck fully a minute before the others.

“Father! father!” he cried, and rushed to his parent, who still lay on the deck in a dead faint. The sufferer was icy cold, and the youth did all in his power to restore circulation to his body.

“Let us take him to the cabin,” said Barry, and this was done.

It was plainly evident that Amos Baxter was the sole occupant of the treasure ship, for on the cabin table rested a single plate, cup and saucer, with a knife and fork near by. On a tiny stove some canned meat and vegetables were cooking. A black cat sat on a chair by the fire, purring contentedly.

“Well, he has been comfortable enough,” observed Captain Gordon. “But how lonely!”

The sufferer was rubbed down and given something warm to drink, yet it was nearly half an hour before he opened his eyes. Then he started up.

“Bob! Bob! Is it really you, or am I dreaming?” and the tears streamed down his weather-beaten face.

“You are not dreaming, father,” answered the boy, and folded his parent to his breast.

“Come, let us get out of here,” whispered Barry to the others, and they considerately withdrew, leaving Bob and his father to themselves.

It was a meeting never to be forgotten. The heart of each was almost too full for utterance.

Amos Baxter’s story was a long one, too long to repeat here in all its details.

He told of his long hunt for the Black Eagle, and of how the ship Comet had been struck by an iceberg, and how he had gone overboard and been lost.

For nearly a month he had wandered around near the South Pole, almost dying from hunger. During that time he had lived upon raw whale’s meat, cut from a whale he had found frozen in the ice.

Then he had run across the Black Eagle, only to find all of her crew dead or missing. All that was alive on board was the black cat.

Weeks and months of lonely life had followed, nearly driving him crazy. Day after day he had looked for a sail, but none had appeared until the Arrow hove in sight.

The strain had told greatly upon him and he was reduced almost to a skeleton.

He had still food left for another month’s rations.

“And when that was gone I would have had to die of hunger,” he said.

“Well, father, you won’t have to suffer any more,” replied Bob. “We will take good care of you.”

“On board of this ship are millions of dollars in gold,” went on Mr. Baxter. “Many a time I would have given all of that immense fortune to be back home once more.”

“I do not doubt it in the least.”

“And to think that you came to rescue me, Bob! It seems almost too good to be true.”

Then Bob told his parent of the cold-storage plant warehouse fire, and of the fate of Jasper Powell. Of course, Amos Baxter was astonished.

“I never thought that of Powell,” he said. “But he was always peculiar. He must have been crazy.”

An hour later the others came back and were introduced. Then the whole party went into the hold of the Black Eagle and inspected the gold piled up there.

They had never beheld so much of the yellow metal, and all were greatly impressed.

“Enough to make each of us independently rich for the rest of our lives!” declared Bob.

“Yes, indeed,” answered Mr. Baxter. “But I care not for gold. All I want is to get back to the United States and see my friends once more.”

He was glad enough to leave the Black Eagle and return with his son to the Arrow.

The elegance of the steam yacht greatly astonished him, and he said he felt as if he had returned to life from the dead.

He told them that he had often experienced the magnetism found at the South Pole.

“Sometimes it extended to the Black Eagle,” he said, “and then it was impossible to lift a piece of iron or anything made of metal.”

“It is queer,” observed Captain Gordon. “Perhaps we will have trouble in removing the gold.”

“Perhaps.”

The removal of the golden treasure to the Arrow was begun the next day.

It was no mean task, for each bar had to be carried half a mile over the icy rocks before being put on the rowboat for removal to the steam yacht.

But at the end of two weeks the task was accomplished.

“And now if you wish to get away this month you must sail at once,” said Amos Baxter.

“Why?” asked Captain Gordon.

“Because we are fixing for a storm. Inside of forty-eight hours the wind will be blowing a gale.”

“Then we will leave without delay!” cried Barry.

That afternoon the Arrow sailed.

She left the vicinity of the South Pole none too soon, for by morning a gale was blowing which threatened to tear the ship into a thousand pieces.

The mainmast went by the board and the very bowsprit was cut off as by a knife.

Nobody could remain on deck, and they had to run along blindly, trusting to fate to see them safely through the storm.