Summary

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Aviators' Polar Dash; or…

The only thing for the two ships to do was to keep burning flare lights, in order that they might keep apart and not crash together in the tempest.
"Shall we go down, do you think?" asked Billy, shivering in spite of himself, as a huge wave towered above them as if it would engulf the polar ship, and then as she rose gallantly to its threatening bulk, went careening away to leeward as if angry at being cheated of its prey.
"We can only hope for the best," said a voice at his elbow. It was Captain Hazzard. "I have implicit confidence in Captain Barrington. He is a sailor of rare mettle."
Source: Gutenberg

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Aviators' Polar Dash; or…

Without a stop the Golden Eagle winged steadily toward the northeast, and as the wonderful polar sunset was beginning to paint the western sky they made out the black form of the disabled dirigible on the snow barrens not far from the Viking ship's gully.
As they gazed they broke into a cheer, for advancing toward the other dark object at a rapid rate was another blot on the white expanse, which a moment's scrutiny through the glasses showed them was the motor-sledge packed with men on whose rifles the setting sun glinted brightly.
Source: Gutenberg

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Aviators' Polar Dash; or…

Little was said as on and on through the polar night the aeroplane drove,—the great wind of the roof of the world harassing her savagely, viciously,—as if it resented her intrusion into the long hidden arcana of the polar Plateau.
It grew so bitter cold that the chill ate even through their furs and air-proofed clothing. The canvas curtains were hoisted for a short distance to keep off the freezing gale. They dared not set them fully for fear they might act as sails and drive the ship before the gale so fast that all control would be lost.
Source: Gutenberg

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