Part 14 (1/2)

Silently the great creature sank, but this time the foaming water showed a fleck of red where the walrus disappeared.

”Got him!” cried Bruce triumphantly.

But this time the strain on the lance was redoubled.

”Try--try to hit a vital--vital spot,” panted Barney, as the strain lessened once more. ”Behind front flipper--in the eye.”

Again the water foamed. Again the rifle cracked. More blood! Another plunge, and again the strain seemed redoubled.

”I--can't--hold much--longer,” Barney gasped.

Springing down from the pinnacle, Bruce ran to the edge of the pool, and, leaping upon a floating ice-cake, waited again.

This time his aim was better.

The strain when the walrus sank was not so great.

”Doing fine,” breathed Barney. ”Next time we'll--”

Again he did not finish, for, unexpectedly, his friend shot up in the air, to fall sprawling upon the cake of ice and cling there while it tilted to an angle of forty-five degrees. The walrus had risen beneath the cake and split it in two. Bruce was stunned by his fall, but Barney's warning cry roused him. One glance revealed his perilous position. The piece of ice to which he clung had been thrust toward the center of the pool. Even now the gap was too wide for him to leap. To plunge into the water, with the thermometer forty below, was to court death.

While he hesitated, the walrus rose to the surface. With a bellow that sprayed b.l.o.o.d.y foam about him, he charged the cake of ice. If ever there was need for a cool brain, it was now. Bruce, gripping his rifle, crouched and waited. Reaching the cake, the walrus hooked his tusks over its edge till it tilted to a perilous angle. Bruce's feet shot from under him, but by a quick movement he caught the upper edge of the ice.

Pulling himself up till he could brace his feet, he took steady aim at the beast's wild and bloodshot eye. It was a perfect shot. The walrus, crumpling, began to sink into the water. Seeing this, Bruce clung to the cake until the tusk slipped off. In another moment the uncertain raft was at rest.

”Well, we got him,” he panted, sitting limply on the ice. ”But for mine in the future, give me the cozy dangers of aviation. I don't see much relaxation in this game.”

The ice-cake soon drifted so that Bruce could jump ash.o.r.e. With their combined efforts the boys were able to draw the dead walrus close in and tie him securely to the ice edge. Then they returned to camp to send a happy band of natives out for the meat and blubber.

”That head will make a fine trophy to hang in the front parlor of that five-room bungalow,” laughed Barney, as a native brought it in that night.

”You may have it for your den,” said Bruce with a s.h.i.+ver. ”I never want to look a walrus in the face again.”

”To-morrow,” said the Major, as they prepared to retire, ”the race will be resumed.”

CHAPTER IX

FIGHTING THEIR WAY OUT

A careful examination of their ”ivory jail” showed Dave and the submarine engineer that they were in a narrow chamber completely lined with walrus tusks. The tusks had been so ingeniously cut and fitted that only the grain of the glistening surface told where one tusk joined another. As for the door, so closely was it fitted that it was not to be located at all. In two corners were seal-oil lamps. These had feed-pipes of some form of dried sea-weeds. They could thus be fed from without. Two narrow openings, strongly barred with ivory tusks, one in the floor and one in the ceiling, permitted air to enter, but one peered through them into utter darkness.

”Tain't no wonder they left us our knives,” grumbled Jarvis. ”The bloomin' 'eathen knowed we'd wear 'em away before we made any h'impression on that ivory. But mind you, lad, this hain't the work of no bloomin' 'eathen--not no regular 'eathen it hain't. 'E hain't smart enough for that, your regular 'eathen hain't. 'Twas some one else, it was. Shouldn't be surprised if it was them three strangers.”

As for Dave, he was worried less about himself than about his companions out in the bay. Knowing the growing impatience of the Doctor, he was prepared to expect him to attempt anything in case of their prolonged absence. Should he try to submerge the craft to bring her to land under the ice, it was an even chance every one on board would perish miserably--caught in the sunken ”sub.”

That he and Jarvis might be kept prisoners indefinitely seemed certain, for after some five or six hours, food was thrust in to them and they were left, apparently for the night. The food consisted of boiled fish and liver, probably walrus liver, soaked in rank seal oil. They ate a little fish and thrust the liver through the opening in the floor, the better to escape its nauseating odor.

”H'I'd die before h'I'd h'eat 'is bloomin' victuals,” snarled Jarvis contemptuously, ”that bloomin' 'eathen!”

He began poking about the narrow confines of the jail. Not being able to see to suit himself, he struck a match and touched it to the ma.s.s, placed on the edge of a br.i.m.m.i.n.g seal-oil lamp, in lieu of a wick. Immediately a line of fire was kindled and its light, reflected again and again by the dazzling whiteness of their prison walls, made the whole place as light as day. At once Jarvis gave a cry of surprise and began crawling toward the farthest side.