mounted, and then, with a whizz and a roar, the propellers were set going.
"Once more northward bound!" cried Tom, as he took his place in the pilothouse.
"And we'll see if we can beat Andy Foger there," added Ned.
All that morning the Red Cloud shot ahead at good speed. The craft had suffered no permanent damage during her fight with the hail storm, and was as good as ever. They ate dinner high in the air, while sailing over a great stretch of whiteness, where the snow lay many feet deep on the level, and where great mountain crags were so covered with the glistening mantle and a coating of ice as to resemble the great bergs that float in the polar sea.
"I wouldn't want to be wrecked here," said Ned, with a shudder, as he looked down. "We'd never get away. Does any one live down there, Abe?"
"Yes, there are scattered tribes of Indians and Alaskan natives. They live by hunting and fishing, and travel around by means of dog sledges. But it's a dreary life. Me an' my partner had all we wanted of it. An airship for mine!"
"I wonder what's become of Andy?" spoke Tom that afternoon. "I haven't sighted him, and I've been using the powerful telescope. I
