The ship now began to quiver through its whole length.  Larger and larger distended the gas bag.  Then, with a motion as of a great bird arising from where it had been fastened to the earth, the Monarch arose slowly in the air.  A cry of astonishment burst from the Esquimaux.  Some who had hold of the rail retained their grip until they felt themselves lifted up.  Then they let go suddenly and dropped to the ice.

“We’re off!” cried Andy.  He aimed a blow at a native who was still clinging to the ship and endeavoring to spear the old hunter.  Andy missed his blow, just as the native let fly his spear, which pierced the hunter in the arm.

With a yell of rage, the native let go and fell.  Andy sank back on the deck of the ship sorely wounded.  The ship soared aloft.  The next instant the propeller started revolving and the Monarch passed off over the heads of the savages.

“Is any one hurt?” asked the professor, coming from the engine room.

“Andy was struck by a spear!” exclaimed Jack.

At the inventor’s suggestion they carried the old hunter into the cabin, and laid him on one of the bunks.

“You take the steering wheel,” said Amos Henderson to Jack.  “Washington will run the engines for a while and Mark and I will see to Andy.  Bill and Tom, you can get something to eat; and turn on the heating stoves; it is cold here.”

Soon everyone on board was busily engaged.  The professor bandaged Andy’s arm, which contained a severe though not fatal wound.  In a little while the hunter awoke from the stupor into which the pain had thrown him.

“Fire!” he cried.

“There is no need,” said the professor soothingly.  “We are safe now.”

Then Andy grew quiet.  In the meanwhile Bill and Tom had started the gasolene and electric stoves, and a meal, made from the capsule food, was soon ready.  That it tasted good goes without saying.

On and on rushed the ship, for Washington had speeded up all the engines in order to sooner escape from the natives who had held him and his friends captives.

As soon as the professor could leave Andy in charge of Mark, he went to the engine room.  There he found everything in good shape.  Next he went to the conning tower, where Jack was steering.

“How is she heading?” asked the old man.

“Straight for the north!” replied the boy.

“Good!  Keep her so.  Let me see; we are about a mile high now.  I guess that will do,” and he turned off the gas generator.  “Moving about twenty miles an hour,” he added.  “That is fast enough.  I wonder how cold it is?”

He consulted the dial that was connected to a thermometer outside.

“Whew!” he whistled.  “Fifty below!  I’m glad we are here!”

Jack was too.  The old inventor glanced at the direction compass and then at the deflecting one that indicated how near the north pole they were.  As he did so he uttered a cry.