Tom was already busily engaged, after the bomber had been wheeled partly around, in order that he might have the benefit of what light remained with the departure of day.

Beverly and Jack hovered over him, ready to give advice, or lend a helping hand. Of course none of them had ever had to do with this particular type of a plane; but then all engines have many similarities in their construction, and Tom, as well as the other two, had proved themselves to be capable mechanics, as well as able pilots.

Finally, as it was impossible for the three of them to work at the repairs, Jack walked around and examined the singular formation const.i.tuting the berg and attendant ice-floe.

"Why," he told himself in glee, "it floated across our path when we needed a landing-place the worst kind, as if we'd ordered it to be held in waiting. It might be the next time there'll be a convenient island handy, though I hope there'll come no next time."

He even found a way to climb on to the berg itself, though in most places the field ice was chopped into small bits by some action on the part of the vast bulk, perhaps during a high wind and a heavy sea.

"All I want to be able to say is that I've been on a regular iceberg,"

Jack announced, after he had once more returned to his mates; "but it's frigid, let me tell you. Why, there's enough ice in that mountain to freeze all the cream made around New York in a whole season, and then some."

He found that Tom was still busily engaged, with Beverly bending down in frequent consultation.

"Say, is it going to be anything serious, fellows? Worse than we at first thought?"

Beverly looked up and gave him a rea.s.suring smile. He was now holding the little hand-torch and directing its ray so that Tom could get the full benefit.

"No reason to believe so, Jack," he remarked quietly. "Tom's still of the opinion that we ought to have it all fixed up for keeps before an hour goes by, if things keep on working as we expect."

"Fine! You make me happy when you say that, Colin!" Jack returned. "If only the berg doesn't roll over before we get out of this, I'll consider that we have much to be thankful for," he added slowly.

"Could you feel any motion when you stood on that lower shelf of the berg?" asked Beverly, showing that he had watched what Jack was doing.

"I should say I could," the other a.s.sured him. "It nearly made me sea-sick. I'd hate to have to stay here very much longer. If you watch a cloud pa.s.sing you can see just how the peak dips, and swings back and forth. It's getting ready to tumble, and before long!"

Tom worked on.

He too realized that the longer they were compelled to stay on the ice field the greater their danger must become. If that towering berg ever did turn over bottom-up it would smash the floe into fragments and churn up the adjacent waters in a way that would leave no avenue of escape for the trio of adventurous air pilots who had alighted there by reason of circ.u.mstances beyond their control.

His hands felt cold, and he was compelled at times to get up and thrash both arms about to induce circulation in his extremities. Beverly and Jack both offered to take his place, but Tom, having started the job, thought he had better finish it if possible.

"Everything seems to be working along as good as pie," Beverly reported, in order to add to Jack's peace of mind, for he knew the other must be growing a bit anxious again. Delay meant so much to Jack in this endeavor to beat the steamship across the Atlantic.

"If you've no objections, I'll rustle after that grub bag, and indulge in something to help get rid of this empty feeling I've got. We'll all feel better for something to eat," said Jack. "I think Tom could work faster if he would take time now for a sandwich."

"You're right, perhaps, Jack," returned Colin. "Although we had better wait for a full meal till we get in the air."

"Here's luck, boys!" cried Jack a minute afterwards.

"What have you found now?" asked Tom, without looking up.

"Why, the coffee's still hot. And let me tell you, it feels good to my hands. There never was a finer thing for poor air pilots than these bottles that allow them to have a warm drink when two miles up, and in freezing temperature. This will put fresh life in our bodies."

"That isn't half bad," answered Tom; "so hand it over, and I'll take a drink or two."

Tom swallowed his coffee and hastily ate a sandwich, but the others, without Tom's reason for haste, ate hungrily.

Never, they confessed, had they felt such voracious appet.i.tes as on this flight. Perhaps the invigorating sea air had something to do with it; but Jack, at least, was not the one to bother himself about the cause, so long as the provisions held out.

Some time pa.s.sed in this way. Tom at work, Beverly holding the flashlight in one hand and taking in the other such food as Jack handed to him.

Tom had just remarked he believed he had effected a radical cure, and that the feed-pipe was not likely to become obstructed again; at the same time Jack could see he was starting to put things together once more.

It began to look as though they might be ready to make a fresh start in a very short time, not more than ten minutes, Jack figured. It thrilled him to realize this fact. He even glanced toward the towering berg as if to say:

"Now be good, and just hold off your gymnastics till we get started, old chap! Afterwards you can cut up as much as you please, and little we'll care. But I've got too much at stake right now in getting to land to have any silly ice mountain turn over on me. So forget your troubles for another half hour, if you please!"

Just then Jack saw something move close by. A scuffling sound, followed by a strange sniffling, could be plainly heard. Jack bent down and clutched Beverly by the arm, saying shrilly:

"Listen, both of you! That Polar bear is coming for us, and I think he means business, too!"

CHAPTER XXI

ATTACKED BY A POLAR BEAR

"Here's trouble, all right!" grumbled Beverly, as he turned, looking to where Jack was pointing, and also discovered something moving.

Tom dropped his monkey-wrench. Something else besides a tool of that kind would be needed to defend them against the claws and teeth of such a bulky monster as a huge Polar bear.

All of them could now make the animal out as Beverly concentrated the little ray of light upon him. The beast was advancing slowly, but pugnaciously, sniffling the air, and evidently furiously hungry on account of his prolonged cruise upon the icefield, deprived of his customary fish meals.

"What ought we do, Tom?" Jack called out hurriedly. "If we retreat, like as not he'll muss things up around here, and maybe ruin our plane for us."

"We must keep him away!" announced Lieutenant Beverly. "It would mean death to us all if he got to tumbling around and smashed some of the parts of the machine."

As he said this he fumbled about his person, producing the automatic pistol with which he usually went on his flights; and without which few air pilots venture to enter into combat with enemy fliers.

Tom duplicated his act immediately, while Jack, at the same time, secured his weapon from the place where he kept it when in his seat. So, after all, things did not seem to be altogether favorable to Bruin; and had the bear only known what he was up against possibly he would have found it discreet to back off and let the three strange creatures alone.

"Be sure to hold your fire, boys!" Lieutenant Beverly ordered, taking command. "We must be like old Put at the battle of Bunker Hill, and wait till we can see his eyes clearly. It's going to be hard to drive off that big rascal with only pistols! Aim for the spot back of his foreleg if you can; that may reach his heart!"

There was not much time for preparation, since the bear kept advancing at the same shuffling gait. Tom tried shouting at him, hoping the sound of a human voice might cause the beast to alter his intention, and turn back.

The bear did stop, and thrust his muzzle further out as though to get a better whiff of the queer animals against which he found himself pitted.

"Didn't go, Tom, for he's coming on again!" cried Jack.

"Get ready to give him a volley," the lieutenant ordered. "Tom, move off a bit to the right, and I'll go to the left. That may upset his calculations some; and besides, we'll have a better chance to bore in back of his forelegs. Jack, stand where you are, and shoot when we do!"

"I'm game!" came the steady reply.

Both the others made a quick move, and the bear found himself facing three separate points of peril. He growled fiercely, and came on again, straight toward the plane, which seemed to have aroused his curiosity.

Perhaps he fancied it was some monster bird that would afford him more than one good meal.