Chapter XIX: Threatening Doom

Slim Tyler's quick ears caught an unusual note in that more boisterous roar of the angry waves. _Hope_ sprang anew in his heart.

"Notice anything different in this sound from that we've been hearing for the last hour?" he asked his companions.

They listened intently.

"Sounds to me like breakers dashing on the shore!" exclaimed Jerry Marbury, and the newspaper man nodded assent.

"That's what it is, I'll bet!" cried Slim. "If that's true, fellows, it means that we have reached the Greenland coast!"

The words went through them all like an electric shock.

"Thank goodness!" ejaculated Dick Mylert fervently.

"Glory hallelujah!" cried Jerry.

"We don't want to crow too soon," the young pilot cautioned his companions. "Break out those flares, Jerry, and throw a couple of them down."

Jerry obeyed, and the flares went down, leaving fiery trails like the tails of comets in their wake.

"After all," observed Dick dubiously, "what good will they do? The wall of snow shuts out our sight. We can't see whether they fall on the land or the sea."

"Wait," advised Slim.

Perhaps twenty seconds elapsed before the luminous glows left by the passing of the flares disappeared.

"Land!" exclaimed Slim joyously.

"Land!" echoed Jerry with equal jubilation.

"How do you know?" asked Dick wonderingly.

"If water were beneath us, the flares would have been extinguished immediately," explained Slim Tyler. "As it is, you notice that they continued to burn. We've reached Greenland all right. Now if we have to come down, as we probably shall, we'll find land beneath us."

"Or ice," suggested Jerry.

"The same thing as far as making a landing is concerned," replied the young pilot. "As a matter of fact, I shouldn't be surprised if we never see the ground itself as long as we're in Greenland. With a few exceptions, it's a solid sheet of ice from end to end."

"Seems to me it isn't snowing as hard as it was," observed Dick.

"It isn't," affirmed Slim. "If it will only stop altogether now, I can probably keep the plane afloat. But with much more weight on her wings she'll go down as sure as shooting."

Presently the snow stopped falling, and with its cessation an immense load was lifted from Slim Tyler's spirits. The _Hope_ still labored heavily, but she was more or less manageable.

It was imperative that they should make a landing as soon as possible. They were in a mountainous region, and if they should suddenly come face to face with a high peak there would be no way of making the heavily weighted plane rise above it.

It was growing lighter now, and the occupants of the plane strained their eyes to see something of their surroundings.

They had left the sea far behind and found themselves flying over a high plateau, sheathed in ice and destitute of all signs of human habitation. It was many miles in area, rugged and uneven and hemmed in on every side by mountains.

At intervals it was cut through by gorges hundreds of feet in depth, with steep, precipitous sides. There were no trees anywhere to break the landscape. The whole scene was one of dreary desolation, and it sent a chill through the veins of the adventurers.

"Nice place to live in--I don't think," muttered Jerry.

"Not many human beings do live in it," replied Slim; "about twelve or fifteen thousand altogether and most of them Eskimos at that, in the milder places scattered along the coast."

"Only fit for polar bears," commented Dick.

"There are plenty of them," replied Slim. "Perhaps we'll get a hack at them before we're through. Or perhaps," he added, with a grin, "it will be they that take a hack at us. Gosh, what made that Dave Boyd expedition come to such a rotten place?"

The sun had risen now, and its rays sent back a thousand dazzling reflections from the ice.

"Keep your eyes peeled for a landing place," Slim adjured his companions. "This bird is trying to come down of her own accord, and I'm having all I can do to keep her in check."

"There's a possible place," sang out Jerry a few minutes later. "Seems to be a depression in the plateau, almost like a valley. There's a long level strip at the bottom that may fill the bill."

"Looks good to me," pronounced Slim after careful scrutiny of the spot that Jerry pointed out. "Here goes!"

He spiraled down into the valley, maneuvering the plane with masterly skill. The skis landed gently on a comparatively smooth surface, skimmed along for a few hundred feet, and gradually came to a stop.

A shout of delight came from the throats of all three as for the first time their feet touched the ice of Greenland. They had reached their destination after enduring frightful perils. They had negotiated the last water jump, during which they had not known but what the next moment might be their last.

But they had triumphed! They had achieved their goal! They were in Greenland! It was with a feeling of irrepressible exultation that, all past perils forgotten, they felt solid footing beneath them.

"Now to find Dave Boyd!" cried Jerry.

"And Cameron Flood," added Slim, from whom, through all the journey, the thought of Nat Shaley and the lumber claim had never been long absent.

"Who's Cameron Flood?" asked Dick Mylert curiously.

"One of the scientists in the party," replied Slim. "There's a matter in which both he and I are interested. But now for a good meal. Then we'll set to work and get the snow off this baby's wings."

They ate with appetite, for all through that terrible night they had been too oppressed and anxious to think of food, and now woke to the realization that they were ravenously hungry.

After the meal was finished they got out scrapers and shovels and removed the snow from the wings of the _Hope_ and also from the body and struts of the machine. In many places it had changed to ice and the work was long and arduous, and had to be done with extreme care.

This finished at last, they made a careful inspection of the plane. There were some slight repairs to be made, but considering the conditions she had met, the _Hope_ had come through with flying colors. The broken strut was made almost as good as new.

Following this, Slim and Jerry brought out their instruments and took observations of the sun. From these they were able to figure out their approximate position.

"About forty miles inland," mused Slim thoughtfully. "We know at least where we are. But where in the mischief is Dave Boyd? Any idea, Jerry?"

"Not the least," replied Jerry. "Ten to one he's landed somewhere he didn't want to. You know that story of the trappers about seeing the plane forced down."

"Yes, and that story didn't give the location, except that it was somewhere about the center of the island," rejoined Slim. "That's a pretty indefinite indication, for Greenland is more like a continent than an island. Thousands and thousands of square miles to fly over. It's almost like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Yes," said Jerry sombrely. "Moreover, sometimes I'm afraid of what we'll find if we find them at all. Only their dead bodies, perhaps. The plane may have been smashed to flinders."

"That's a chance, of course," admitted Slim, and a pain stabbed through his heart at the thought. "But we're not going to dwell on that. I think we'll find them, in trouble, perhaps, but still alive and well."

The two aviators were interrupted by a call from Dick Mylert, who, while the others had been making their calculations, had wandered off to the side of a cliff at a little distance.

"Come here, fellows," cried Dick, "and take a squint at these."

He held up some oval objects as they hurried toward him.

"Eggs," he said, as they came up to him. "Lallapaloozers, too. Some of the biggest I've ever seen."

"Where did you get them?" asked Slim, as he and Jerry examined them curiously.

"In the side of the cliff here," replied Dick. "Saw a cleft in the rock and climbed up. Scientific curiosity," he grinned. "We'll take them along and let some of the high-brows in Boyd's party--if we find them--tell us what they are."

"I don't know," said Slim reflectively. "Perhaps it would be wiser to put them back. They're still a little warm."

"What of that?" asked Dick.

"It means that the mother bird hasn't been away from them long and may be back any minute," replied Slim. "When she comes there may be ructions. Better put them back, Dick. We've got trouble enough without looking for any."

The young newspaper man grumbled a little but acceded. He climbed up the cliffside and was putting back the eggs when there came a sudden whirring of wings.

"Look out, Dick! For the love of Pete, look out!" shouted Slim Tyler.