The Boy Aviators' Polar Dash Part 23

Captain Barrington raised his gla.s.ses and looked in the direction indicated. The boys, too, brought binoculars to bear. They were greatly excited to see what seemed to be four men standing up and waving their arms on a raft drifting at some distance away.

"Lower a boat," commanded Captain Barrington.

The command was speedily complied with--in a few seconds one of the stanch lifeboats lay alongside.

"Do you boys want to go?" asked Captain Hazzard.

"Do we?" asked Billy. "I should say."

"All right, away with you."

"Can I go, too? I might get some specimens," asked the professor, eagerly.

"Yes, but don't try to catch any more killer whales," was the answer, which brought a general laugh.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE PROFESSOR TAKES A COLD BATH.

"Give way, men!" shouted Ben Stubbs, who was in command of the boat; "them poor fellers must be peris.h.i.+n' of cold and hunger."

The boat fairly flew through the water, skillfully avoiding, under Ben's careful steering, the great floes of ice which were drifting about.

The boys and the professor were in the bow, eagerly scanning the raft with the four black figures upon it. The castaways kept waving their arms in the most pitiable fas.h.i.+on.

Suddenly the professor exclaimed:

"There's something queer about those men!"

"You'd be queer, too, if you was drifting about the polar seas on an old raft," returned Ben Stubbs.

All the men laughed at this and the professor said no more. But he scanned the "castaways" carefully, and so did the boys. As they drew nearer, the latter also began to observe that they were the funniest looking men they had ever seen.

"They've got on long black coats with white waistcoats to their knees," cried Billy.

"So they have," exclaimed Harry. "If it wasn't too ridiculous, you'd say they had on evening clothes."

"They're not men at all," suddenly shouted the professor, with an air of triumph. "I thought I was not mistaken."

"Not men!" roared Ben. "What are the poor critters, then--females?"

"Neither men nor women," was the astonis.h.i.+ng reply. "They are penguins."

All the men turned at this, and one of them, who had sailed in the polar regions before, announced, with a shout of laughter:

"The doc is right. Them's Emperor penguins, sure enough--taking a joy-ride through the ice."

The queer birds betrayed not the slightest excitement at the approach of the boat, but stood gazing solemnly at it, waving their little flippers,--somewhat like those of a seal, only feathered,--up and down in a rhythmic way.

"They act like band leaders," was Frank's remark.

"Better go back to the s.h.i.+p," said Ben, much disgusted at the upshoot of the expedition, and somewhat chagrined, too, if the truth must be told, at the professor's triumph over him.

"No, let us catch one," urged the professor. "I would like to see if it is possible to tame one."

"Yes, let's go up to them and see what they look like at close range,"

cried Frank.

"All right, if we don't waste too much time," agreed Ben. "Give way, men."

They soon drew near the strange South Polar birds who blinked solemnly at them as if to say:

"And who may you be?"

As they bobbed up and down on the piece of drift wood the boys had mistaken for a raft, the sight was so ludicrous that the boys burst into a hearty laugh.

"Hush," warned the professor, holding up his hand; "you may scare them."

They were big birds of their kind, standing fully four feet, and it was not strange that from the s.h.i.+p they had been mistaken for s.h.i.+pwrecked men; indeed, it is not the first time such an incident has occurred in the South Polar climes.

"Steady now, men," said the professor, bowing his lean form over the bow of the boat as they drew near to the penguins.

"Ah! my feathered beauties, if you will only stay there and not move, I will soon have one of you," he whispered to himself, as the boat,--the men rowing as silently as possible,--glided alongside.

The birds made no sign of moving, and evidently had not the slightest fear of the strange beings, such as the newcomers must have seemed to them. Instead, they seemed mildly curious and stretched their necks out inquiringly.

"Here, chick-chick-chicky," called the professor, by an odd inspiration, as if he were calling to the chickens in the barnyard at home.

"Here, chick-chick-chicky. Pretty chick-chick-chicky."

Suddenly he made a grab for the nearest penguin, and at the same instant the boys gave a shout of dismay. As he seized it, the creature--affrighted when it felt the professor's bony arms about it,--had dived and the scientist, losing his balance, had followed it into the water.

This might not have been so serious, but the other penguins, seeing the professor's plight, started to attack him, beating him back into the icy water every time he came to the surface.

"Ouch, you brute--oh, boys, help--o-o-o-h, this water is cold. Get me out, somebody. Scat, get away, you penguins."

These were some of the cries uttered by the luckless professor, as he struggled to get to the inside of the boat.

When they could, for laughing at the ludicrous plight, the men and the boys beat off the big penguins with the oars and hauled the professor into the boat. His nose was pecked badly and was of a ruddy hue from his misadventure. Fortunately, one of the men had some stimulant with him and this was given to the professor to drink and the strong stuff quickly revived him. He sat up in the boat and talked with animation while the boat was being rowed back to the s.h.i.+p.

"Bless my soul, what an adventure," he puffed. "Ouch, my poor nose. I thought the penguins would peck it off. Boys, that penguin was as slippery as a greased pig and as fat as b.u.t.ter. Oh, dear, what a misadventure, and I've ruined a good suit of clothes and broken a bottle of specimens I had in the pockets. Never mind, I can catch some more."

Thus the professor rattled on, from time to time feeling his very prominent nose, apparently in some doubt as to whether he still retained the feature.

"I guess you are cured of penguin hunting?" remarked Frank.