Leo in Danger next! A Novel Mode of Rescue.  
When the catastrophe described in the last chapter occurred, Captain Vane and his friends, following hard on the heels of the runaway, chanced to be within two miles of the berg in the bosom of which Benjy had found refuge.
 
“There he is!” shouted the Captain joyfully, as the flash of the explosion reached his eyes and the roar of the report his ears. “Blessed evidence! He’s up to mischief of some sort still, and that’s proof positive that he’s alive.”
 
“But he may have perished in this piece of mischief,” said Alf, anxiously glancing up at the kite, which was dragging the heavily-laden sledge rather slowly over the rough ice.
 
“I hope not, Alf. Shake the regulator, Butterface, and see that it’s clear.”
 
“All right, Massa. Steam’s on de berry strongest what’s possible.”
 
“Heave some o’ the cargo overboard, Alf. We must make haste. Not the meat, lad, not the meat; everything else before that. So. Mind your helm, Chingatok; she’ll steer wildish when lightened.”
 
Captain Vane was right. When Alf had tumbled some of the heavier portions of lading off the sledge, it burst away like a wild-horse let go free, rendering it difficult at first for Chingatok to steady it. In a few minutes, however, he had it again under control, and they soon reached the berg.
 
“The dynamite must have gone off by accident,” said the Captain to Alf, as they stumbled over masses of ice which the explosion had brought down from the roof of the cavern. “It’s lucky it didn’t happen in summer, else the berg might have been blown to atoms. Hallo! what’s this? Bits of a polar bear, I do believe—and—what! not Benjy!”
 
It was indeed Benjy, flat on his back like a spread-eagle, and covered with blood and brains; but his appearance was the worst of his case, though it took a considerable time to convince his horrified friends of that fact.
 
“I tell you I’m all right, father,” said the poor boy, on recovering from the state of insensibility into which his fall had thrown him.
 
“But you’re covered from head to foot with blood,” exclaimed the anxious father, examining him all over, “though I can’t find a cut of any sort about you—only one or two bruises.”
 
“You’ll find a bump on the top of my head, father, the size of a cocoa-nut. That’s what knocked the senses out o’ me, but the blood and brains belong to the bear. I lay no claim to them.”
 
“Where is the bear?” asked Alf, looking round.
 
“Where is he?” echoed Benjy, bursting into a wild laugh.
 
“Oh! Massa Benjy, don’t laugh,” said Butterface solemnly; “you hab no notion wot a awful look you got when you laugh wid sitch a bloody face.”
 
This made Benjy laugh more than ever. His mirth became catching, and the negro’s solemn visage relaxed into an irrepressible grin.
 
“Oh, you japan-jawed porpoise!” cried Benjy, “you should have seen that bear go off—with such a crack too! I only wish I’d been able to hold up for two seconds longer to see it properly, but my shelf went down, and I had to go along with it. Blown to bits! No—he was blown to a thousand atoms! Count ’em if you can.”
 
Again Benjy burst into uproarious laughter.
 
There was indeed some ground for the boy’s way of putting the case. The colossal creature had been so terribly shattered by the dynamite cartridge, that there was scarcely a piece of him larger than a man’s hand left to tell the tale.
 
“Well, well,” said the Captain, assisting his son to rise, “I’m thankful it’s no worse.”
 
“Worse, father! why, it couldn’t be worse, unless, indeed, his spirit were brought alive again and allowed to contemplate the humbling condition of his body.”
 
“I don’t refer to the bear, Benjy, but to yourself, lad. You might have been killed, you know, and I’m very thankful you were not—though you half-deserve to be. But come, we must encamp here for the night and return home to-morrow, for the wind has been shifting a little, and will be favourable, I think, in the morning.”
 
The wind was indeed favourable next morning, we may say almost too favourable, for it blew a stiff breeze from the south, which steadily increased to a gale during the day. Afterwards the sky became overcast and the darkness intense, rendering it necessary to attend to the kite’s regulator with the utmost care, and advance with the greatest caution.
 
Now, while the Captain and his friends were struggling back to their Polar home, Leo Vandervell happened to be caught by the same gale when out hunting. Being of a bold, sanguine, and somewhat reckless disposition, this Nimrod of the party paid little attention to the weather until it became difficult to walk and next to impossible to see. Then, having shot nothing that day, he turned towards the Pole with a feeling of disappointment.
 
But when the gale increased so that he could hardly face it, and the sky became obliterated by falling and drifting snow, disappointment gave place to anxiety, and he soon realised the fact that he had lost his direction. To advance in such circumstances was out of the question, he therefore set about building a miniature hut of snow. Being by that time expert at such masonry, he soon erected a dome-shaped shelter, in which he sat down on his empty game-bag after closing the ............