CHAPTER XVI.
IN THE NICK OF TIME.
"CAN'T say," replied the Captain. "It is more----See what you make ofit, Dacres."
For a moment, like a swimmer contemplating a "header" into icy coldwater, Dacres hesitated; then with a swift determined movement hedisappeared within the tent.
Grasping the nearmost man he turned him over on his back. His facewas as black as that of a seaman engaged in a coaling ship; but toDacres' great relief he opened his eyes and stared wonderingly at hisrescuer.
"So you've come, old mate?" he muttered, like one in a dream."Thought you would, somehow. We got there all right--no kidding, wedid."
"Get up and turn out," said Dacres authoritatively.
The seaman, disciplined to obey orders implicitly, attempted to rise.He realized that he was addressed by some one having authority; butto arise was beyond the power of his numbed limbs and exhausted body.
"We'll have to unship the tent," declared Dacres as he rejoined hiscomrades. "There's one of them alive, if not more; but he cannotmove."
"Is there a lamp burning?" asked Dr. Hambrough.
"No; there is one but it's gone out," replied Whittinghame. "Inoticed that."
Quickly the foot of the tent was freed from the wall of snow that hadbeen built around it, and the flimsy structure thrown aside.
The man whom Dacres had roused was asleep once more.
One by one the doctor examined the five men. "They are all alive," hesaid; "but we are only just in time. We must get them on board asquickly as we can."
It was impossible to distinguish Cardyke from the rest of the party.The men's faces were encrusted with soot and grease, while they hadallowed their beards to grow and these were clogged with the sameuncongenial mixture.
"We'll have to hurry up," said Whittinghame anxiously, as an extraloud groan gave warning that the ice around them was ready to partcompany with the rest of the pack. "It will take two of us to assisteach man to the 'Meteor'."
"That will help their blood to circulate," agreed the doctor, "butwill this rotten ice stand the strain? It's pretty shaky between usand the 'Meteor,' if you'll remember."
"Then the 'Meteor' must come to us," rejoined the Captain.
In spite of the distance--nearly half a mile--the airship was withinhail. In the rarefied atmosphere sound travels with the utmostfacility, and instances have been recorded of men engaging inconversation at distances of two miles apart.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Setchell, and without delay the airship'sanchors were broken out and the propellers began to revolve.
Almost touching the ice the "Meteor" again brought up, this time soclose that, as she swung to the light breeze, the men on the groundhad to give a united heave and pass her immense bulk over theirheads.
Already the alert Setchell had seen what was required and had riggedup a bos'n's chair from the entry port. In ten minutes rescuers andrescued were safely on board the airship.
Cardyke and his four men slept throughout the embarkation process;they slept during the run of the "Meteor" to Cape Columbia; theystill slept when they were taken on board the "New Resolute," onlyawakening when they were being washed with slightly chilled water.And, strange to relate, Cardyke's first words were those of reproachat not being allowed to complete the journey by his own efforts.
He remembered resting in his tent; realized that he was back on the"New Resolute," and consequently came to the conclusion that a rescueparty from the ship had taken a mean advantage by finding him and hiscomrades asleep and had hauled them on sledges for the rest of theway.
He was, in fact, light-headed. He could give no coherent account ofwhat had occurred. It was Bates, the petty-officer, who was the firstto relate their hazardous adventures.
Beyond the loss of two days, Cardyke's party reached theeighty-seventh parallel without mishap. Then accidents happened withalarming frequency. The portable wireless apparatus was irreparablydamaged through the sledge capsizing on rough ice. Then two completedog teams were lost in crevasses, leaving only six dogs to haul theremaining sledge.
Fortunately the weather remained exceptionally fine, and the partywere able to make good progress. There still remained plenty of food,while a reserved store had been cached some days before the accidentto the two sledges.
Cardyke, therefore, resolved to push on. The freshly fallen snowafforded easy travelling, for in the absence of wind there was verylittle "drift."
He reached the Pole. The making of certain important observationsthat had been entrusted to him he carried out, carefully andmethodically, yet without undue loss of time; then setting theirfaces southward the five began their homeward journey.
It was a record of one continued struggle between grit and personalexertion on the one hand, and the relentlessness of the elements onthe other. A blizzard impeded their progress; they lost their way andmissed their store of spare provisions. The supplies they took withthem were running short; the remaining dog had to be killed for food.
They began to realize that it was to be a race against time, unlessthey were met by a rescue party. Resting as little as possible, badlyattacked by frostbite, and at times partially blinded by the glare ofthe snow, they toiled on, till hope was all but dead. And,fortunately unknown to them, a broad sea had opened out between themand their comrades at Cape Columbia.
At length they regained their proper course. It was during the timethat they were making the detour that the "Meteor" must have passedthem, about ten miles to the eastward. Human endurance could hold outno longer. They pitched their tent, filled their lamp with the lastremaining oil, and resolved to rest for six hours--six hours when fordays they had halted for two periods of two hours in everytwenty-four.
It was a case of the triumph of matter over mind. Utterly done up,their intellects dimmed by their vicissitudes, the men fell asleep,and with the exception of a partial rousing in the case of the seamanDacres had spoken to, they knew nothing till they found themselvesback on board the "New Resolute."
The written results of Lieutenant Cardyke's observations were foundin his possession, and so complete was the data that there was nolonger any need for the Arctic Expedition ship to remain at CapeColumbia. The channel was still open, and eagerly her officers andcrew prepared for the homeward voyage.
By the time Cardyke had recovered sufficiently to be told of themanner of his rescue, the "Meteor" was no longer in the Arctic.Returning by Davis Strait she reached England in thirty-four hoursfrom the time of parting company with the "New Resolute."
The tidings of his achievement had preceded her, for even herprodigious speed could not outstrip the magical wireless. Had CaptainWhittinghame felt so inclined he would have been feted until furtherorders. But he had no such desire. His avowed mission was not yetaccomplished. It was not in the dreary and desolate Arctic that hisambitions were centred, but upon the aggressive little Republic ofValderia. His dash for the Pole was humanity's call which could notbe denied, also, it served the purpose as a means to put Reno Durangooff his guard; but the publicity given to his return had undone allthe good that Whittinghame had hoped for in that direction.
"We'll return to the New Forest base, Dacres," said he. "A rest afterbeing half-frozen for the last few days will do us good. By that timethe 'Maranhao' will be nearing Pernambuco, and we shall then be ableto start in pursuit of our friend Senor Durango. By the by, aren'tyou anxious to interview your father?"
Dacres hardly knew what to reply. He was anxious to explain mattersto the Colonel, but, although a full-grown man, he had a strangedread of his father's temper. It was, he knew, only putting off theevil day, for Colonel Dacres was bound to know sooner or later thathis son had been requested to resign his commission. Yet, on theother hand, Dacres had a sort of presentiment that before long hewould be reinstated in his former rank in his Majesty's service.
"You don't seem keen on it," remarked Whittinghame.
"No, sir, I do not," admitted Dacres. "Of course I know the governorhas no legal c
ontrol over me, yet somehow--I can't exactly explain--Ifeel in an awful funk about it."
"About what?"
"Having to tell him I've been more or less pitched out of theService."
"That needn't worry you, old chap."
Dacres looked curiously at his chief.
"You don't know the governor," he replied. Whittinghame smiled. Itwas not on that account that he told Dacres not to worry. He held anofficial document, the contents of which he would have greatly likedto communicate to his comrade. But for the present his hands weretied.
Naturally the news of the rescue by the "Meteor" of the gallantCardyke caused immense excitement, not only in Great Britain butthroughout the civilized world. But the public curiosity wasunsatisfied. The names of the individuals who undertook the voyagewere not mentioned. In vain the Press appealed to the Admiralty.Never was a secret better kept, for up to the time of the "Meteor's"departure for Valderia the identity of her owner and crew remained amystery.