Frank Reade, Jr., saw at once how useless it was to attempt to treat with the ignorant horde.

It was folly to think of such a thing. Murder was in their hearts and the only way to wipe it out was to give them battle.

So the young inventor cried:

“Look out, friends! Stand by and don’t let them get to close quarters!”

The barbarians hurled their javelins with vengeful aim.

Some of them went true to the mark. But the points being only of flint or fish bone were easily turned against the armor of the white men.

So that the white men in this respect held a great advantage.

They fired almost point blank with their Winchesters. Several of the natives dropped dead.

But this did not deter them. Charging with such blind fury the battle could not help but be brought to close quarters.

And here it seemed for a moment as if the barbarians would win.

With their heavy battle clubs, which they swung above their heads with fearful force, they dealt terrible blows.

The armor resisted the point of the axe, but the concussion was something likely to prove almost as fatal. The guns of the white men were but frail guards.

The only way to do was to keep up a running fire and retreat before the terrible blows. This scattered the fighters, and at the same time made the outlook bad for the white men.

Indeed, for a time it began to look serious enough for them.

But at this moment Frank Reade, Jr., chanced to glance upward.

He saw that the airship had drifted over the peaks and was now above the valley. Even as he looked he saw Pomp, at the rail.

Instantly Frank signaled to him.

The astute darky was not long in grasping the situation. Professor Gaston was now on board with him, having been picked up by Pomp.

“Golly!” gasped the darky, “I done fink dat Marse Frank am in a bad scrape. Jes’ yo’ hol’ on dar, Marse Gaston. I’se gwine to fix dem chaps pretty quick!”

“Mercy on us!” cried the professor, “our men are in great danger.”

“Dat dey are, sir!”

Pomp rushed into the cabin and brought out a dynamite bomb, an invention of Frank Reade, Jr.’s. This he dropped right in the midst of the barbarians.

Instantly there was a terrific explosion. Fully a dozen of the wretches were blown into eternity.

Then the airship began to descend.

The barbarians seemed to have acquired a fearful terror of the airship. At sight of it now they beat an inglorious retreat.

Up the valley they rushed, in headlong haste. The Dart descended until within one hundred feet of the ground.

“All right, Pomp!” cried Frank, “hold right where you are. We are going to invade that big, stone building. Be ready to give us help!”

“A’right, Marse Frank!” replied Pomp, readily.

The victorious explorers now charged the barbarians’ settlement. They deserted their houses and fled incontinently.

Reaching the massive stone structure they dashed through a high arched doorway and found themselves in a long passage.

This proved to be a perfect labyrinth, but finally the rescuers came out in a high walled room in the centre of the structure.

And here, sitting upon the stone floor and bound hand and foot, were the three prisoners.

Lucille was pale but brave, and at sight of the rescuers gave a great cry of joy.

The next moment her bonds were cut and she was in her father’s arms, unharmed.

It was a joyful reunion, and among the happy ones was Jack Wallis.

The looks given each other by the young lovers were of the warmest description.

The airship had descended now, and Professor Gaston was exploring the huts of the barbarians.

“A strange race!” he declared. “Unlike any other on the face of the earth.”

He collected much valuable data and many specimens. Then all returned to the deck of the airship.

The gratitude of the Albatross’ people to Frank Reade, Jr., was of the most intense description.

“We can never forget your kindness!” they declared. “But for your aid we would never have effected the rescue, and we should all have met death.”

“But what are your plans now?” asked Frank, with interest.

“We must return to the Albatross.”

“And then——”

“Winter here and with the first thaw in the spring sail for home.”

“But you have no crew!”

“That is true,” replied Captain Hardy. “We shall be short handed. Yet if none of us die in the meanwhile the four of us could sail the ship home.”

“Yet it will be a terrible experience for you to pass the winter upon the scene of that fearful massacre,” said Frank. “Don’t you think the ice pack could be broken up?”

“Ah!” cried Captain Hardy, eagerly. “If we could have made headway against the wind for only two miles more we should have been in the open sea!”

“So I thought,” said Frank. “You are right in the edge of the pack. It should not be difficult to get a channel through.”

But Captain Hardy shook his head.

“Too much ice!”

“If you could reach the open sea you could get north, couldn’t you?”

“Oh, yes! the current has already set northward,” replied the captain.

“Then have courage,” cried Frank, “for I will pull you out of the hole!”

The captain was amazed.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“But—how?”

“Wait and you shall see.”

The airship took its flight from the volcanic valley, leaving the terrified barbarians to themselves.

As straight as the birds could fly the Dart returned to the spot, where the Albatross was nipped in the ice.

Then a descent was made.

The first move was to reverently bury the victims of the massacre and restore things to order aboard the ship.

Then Frank took a quick and comprehensive survey of the ice pack.

He saw that the Albatross lay between two ridges of block ice. It would take a century to dig a channel through with pick and shovel.

But this was not what Frank proposed to do.

He carefully obtained the lay of the ice pack. Then Barney and Pomp began drilling holes four feet deep in the ice.

A line of these holes were drilled at intervals of ten feet, the whole distance of two miles to the open sea.

Then dynamite bombs were placed in them and connected with a wire aboard the airship.

Frank pressed the electric key, and a terrific explosion followed. Tons of ice rose in the air and was hurled aside.

A literal channel was made the entire distance of two miles to the open sea. It now only remained to clear this of ice.

The crew of the Albatross cheered with delight at the prospect. The ship lay in the channel freed of ice.

But now to the gratification of every one the ice began to move out of the channel of its own accord.

The reason for this was that the Antarctic current had set to the northward and was carrying it along.

In a very few hours the channel was wholly clear.

It now only remained to get the ship out of it and into the open sea.

As there was not seaway in the channel, sail could not be made. But Frank solved the problem.

A line was carried from the ship’s bow a mile ahead and the airship was lowered and anchored firmly. Then the electric engines were set to work and one of the propellers was utilized as a drum to wind the line up on.

The engines of the airship, though delicate, were powerful, and in a very short time the ship had been towed to the end of the channel.

Here sail was made and the Albatross stood away to the northward.

Captain Hardy, Jack Wallis and Lucille stood upon the quarter deck and waved a farewell to the aerial voyagers.

“I am so glad that we were enabled to render them such a service,” said Frank. “It well repays me for my Antarctic trip.”

“Certainly. You have done a good deed,” declared Professor Gaston, warmly.

“Now for the South Pole!”

“Hurrah!”

Barney and Pomp set about their duties with a vim.

They were bosom friends and yet each was engaged in constant nagging at the other. Many were the practical jokes they played upon each other.

“Hi, dar, yo’ big I’ishman!” cried Pomp, in an imperious way, “why don’ yo’ shine up dat brasswo’k in de engine-room?”

“Begorra, an’ phwy don’t yez make us some bread we kin ate?” retorted Barney, facetiously. “Shure, the last I got hold of was that hard that I cudn’t break it wid a sledgehammer.”

“Huh! I done fink yo’ am pooty sassy, I’ish. Jes’ s’pose yo’ makes yo’ own bread fo’ awhile.”

“Bejabers, I’ll do it!”

“Yo’ will?”

“Yis, to be shure!”

“How am yo’ gwine to do it?”

“I’ll show yez!”

But Pomp blocked the galley door.

“No, yo’ don’ do anyfing ob de kin’! I done reckon I know wha’ yo’ want in here. Yo’ jest mix my fings all up an’ den Marse Frank gib me a jawing.”

“But yez wanted me to make me own bread. Now, gimme a chance.”!

“I’ll gib yo’ a chaince to see stars, honey, if yo’ don’t go on about yo’ own biz!”

This excited Barney’s ire.

The mere allusion to a fight was enough for him. He was more than ready and willing.

In an instant he bristled up.

“Oh, it’s fight yez want!” he cried, spitting on his hands. “Shure, I’m jist the lad that kin accomodate yez. Whurroo!”

“Look yer, I’ish,” said Pomp, solemnly, “does yo’ see de color ob my eye?”

“Begorra, it’ll be blacker than it is now afore I get through wid it!” spluttered Barney.

“Does yo’ mean to hit me, chile?”

“If yez don’t apologize!”

“Wha’ fo’?”

“Fer insultin’ me, bejabers!”

“Gwan away. I neber ’sulted yo’.”

“Bejabers, that’s a loie! Here’s wan fer luck!”

With this Barney made a swoop at the darky. Pomp easily dodged it, however, and retreated a step.

Barney came at him again, hammer and tongs. At once Africa’s blood arose.

“G’way now, yo’ sassy I’ishman, if yo’ knows what’s good fo’ yo’se’f. Whoop dar! Look out fo’ yo’se’f!”

With this down went Pomp’s woolly head. Forward he shot like a battering ram. The result was comical enough.