Now they passed over a wide expanse of white, which they knew to be
Dismal Lake. This was frozen over; then surely Great Bear Lake, two
hundred miles farther north, would be frozen, too. Their safe landing
would be assured.

But as they neared their goal the boys' minds could scarcely escape
misgivings. If the Major's suppositions were correct; if, indeed, this
trader was the hired agent of a fanatical clan, would he not be armed and
on the alert? Would he not, perhaps, have Indians and half-breeds hired
to help guard his secret? They were but three. The enemy might number a
score. As Barney thought of all this, he was thankful for one thing: by
some strange chance, a small machine-gun and two thousand rounds of
ammunition had been shipped north with the plane. Their first thought had
been to leave this behind, but after a discussion, they had decided to
bring it; and there it was now, hanging in its swivel before him. In an
emergency there remained but to load it and go into action. But it was
quite an unexpected emergency that soon made him bless that bit of
equipment.

They were now well into the Arctic. The air cut like a knife and chilled
them to the marrow. Barney began to long for warmth, food and sleep. He
held his electric glove to the glass of the small clock before him. When
the frost had thawed he noted the hour.

"Twelve o'clock! Midnight!" he muttered. "And no landing in sight yet."

There remained but to "carry on."

But what was this? Far to the North there showed a small, red ball of
light. And it was not the Aurora Borealis! They were traveling fast. The