Then Frank Reade, Jr.’s premise proved correct. However, no open attack was made upon the Dart.

But it happened in as bad a way, in fact, much worse. Professor Gaston was out upon an exploring tour.

The professor was enriching his collection of rare fossils, and was about a quarter of a mile from the airship when attacked.

Suddenly and without warning he found himself surrounded by the Esquimaux. He blew his whistle.

The professor’s Winchester was under his arm. He could have shot a couple of them, but he knew that it would mean his instant death.

“White man gib gun to Eskimo!” said the leader. “Come along! Be prisoner. Mebbe so he live, mebbe not so, he die!”

“Hold on!” said the shrewd scientist. “Just wait until I return and I will bring you some more guns.”

“No! White man stay. Mebbe no come back. Stay here!”

Gaston saw that he was in for it. Yet he did not believe for a moment that his life was as yet in special danger.

He ransacked his brain in vain for a subterfuge by which to foil the Esquimaux. But each time he was disappointed.

Finally he was led away into the fir forest. A few moments more of delay and he would have been rescued by his friends.

Frank was in the engine-room when he heard the whistle of alarm.

“Quick, then!” cried Frank. “Pomp, you stay with the airship.”

Barney and Spencer grabbed their rifles and followed Frank. Soon they had reached the spot where the professor had been seized by the Esquimaux.

Their tracks were seen and understood at once by Frank.

All search was of no avail. It was known that the professor was in the hands of the Esquimaux and that was all.

Back to the airship the three men went and to work.

Meanwhile the professor was having some thrilling experiences.

As the party tramped on the professor could not help wondering what his fate was to be.

He was not left long in doubt.

Suddenly the party came out of the fir forest and were in sight of a long, level plain extending down to the sea.

And near the water’s edge were a number of huts made of brush and bark. This was the manner of habitation used by the Esquimaux of this region in lieu of ice.

Perhaps there were a hundred or more of these huts.

A vast throng of Esquimaux came out to meet them.

The prisoner was surrounded by a howling mob. Some of them seemed disposed to do him harm.

But the leader of the band kept them back in his persuasive way, by swinging his battle-club about him.

The prisoner was led down into the Esquimau settlement. His arms and legs were bound with thongs, and he was unceremoniously tumbled upon the ground.

As he lay in the midst of his foes thus, the professor fell to wondering if his whistle of alarm had been heard at the airship.

If it had there was good reason to believe that he might expect help and perhaps rescue.

But as time passed and his friends did not appear he began to give up hope.

His position was becoming unendurable, when suddenly the Esquimau chief appeared and gave some orders to his men.

The prisoner was lifted and the thongs which bound his feet being severed he was commanded to stand up.

Then the Esquimau chief said, in broken English:

“White man mebbe live. He gib Eskimo man more gun and more fire dust. See?”

The professor grasped the situation.

“All right,” he said; “let me go and I’ll get the guns for you.”

But the chief smiled in a leering way.

“Eskimo no fool! White man go, mebbe stay. No come back, Eskimo be big fool.”

“Well, then, how am I to get the guns for you?” argued the professor.

“Mebbe see.”

The chief beckoned to one of the tribe, a muscular fellow, who came forward.

“He go tell you people he want gun, see! You tell him.”

Gaston was not disposed to be reckless.

He saw at once that if he could not gain all the pie at least a piece would be better than nothing at all.

He realized that if his friends were thus notified of his predicament they would adopt some speedy plan for his rescue.

So he said:

“Very well, chief. Send your man to my friends. They will give you guns, and then you shall set me free.”

The Esquimaux now all seemed to be waiting for the return of their courier.

Frank had just finished his job of repairing the machinery when the Esquimaux’ messenger arrived.

“Well, you greasy rascal, what do you want?” he asked.

“Heap gun!” was the reply. “Mebbe you give me, mebbe no kill you man. See?”

“Ah!” said Frank, with comprehension. “You have got one of our men in your clutches, eh?”

“Yep!” replied the Esquimau.

“Come aboard this airship and I’ll go with you.”

But this did not strike the wretch’s fancy.

“No, mebbe not,” he said, shaking his head violently. “Mebbe gib me guns!”

“Mebbe I won’t,” said Frank, sternly. “Come over, or die!”

He aimed a revolver at the villain. The Esquimau knew what that meant and began to beg.

“Mebbe no kill me. Sabe white man. He live, no kill me!”

“You diabolical shark, you!” cried Frank, grabbing the miscreant’s collar. “Come aboard here, and no fooling!”

And Frank pulled him over the rail where he lay cowering upon the deck.

“Now, Barney,” he cried, “send her up!”

Barney needed no second command.

The airship sprang into the air. She was as steady once more as a humming top.

Over the fir forest she sped. It was hardly ten minutes before the Esquimau village was in sight.

The natives at sight of the airship seemed imbued with terror.

They retreated with dismay into their bough huts.

Frank allowed the airship to descend right on the verge of the settlement. Then he picked up the shivering wretch on the deck and hurled him over the rail.

“Go tell your chief I want to see him,” he said.

In a few moments the Esquimau chief sullenly appeared.

As he stood with folded arms by his bough hut Frank addressed him:

“You greasy scoundrel! You thought to make a treaty with me and force me to give you firearms, did you? Why, I’ve a mind to annihilate the whole tribe of you!”

The Esquimau flashed a leering, contemptuous glance at Frank and replied:

“White man mebbe fly in air; but Eskimo man no ’fraid ob him.”