The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom

“Perhaps we should send Hotspur to Granny’s,” he suggested. But this suggestion made Hotspur squawk like an angry seagull.

“Dad!” cried Sophie. “We can’t leave Hotspur behind. I know he’s little, but every little helps.”

Oh well, thought Bonniface, there wouldn’t be too much work in looking after anyone as small as Hotspur. He ran to his fax machine, planning to contact Scott Base on Ross Island, on the very edge of the great, frozen continent. He wanted to let them know he was coming and to order a particularly good skiddoo – a sort of Antarctic motor-sledge.

“It must be a state-of-the-art skiddoo!” he muttered to himself. “Nothing but the best will do. And when they hear that I’m bringing the kids, they’ll make sure that I get the very best. After all, it’s nearly Christmas. They’ll want the children to be safe as well as happy at Christmas. There might, after all, be great advantages in taking the kids with me.”

CHAPTER 11 Unexpected Air Travel (#ulink_76bbd90a-5fa2-5e16-a2d0-446f075733e2)

The Sapwood children always travelled by plane when they visited their grandmother. They were used to airline seatbelts, and looked forward to free aeroplane lollies. But the inside of the Hercules aircraft (which was waiting to take explorers and scientists to Antarctica) took them by surprise. For travelling by Hercules turned out to be rather like flying in a second-hand-clothes-and-general-junk shop. There were seats, of course (you didn’t have to stand all the way to the Antarctic), but they weren’t like ordinary aeroplane seats. They were made of a curious orange webbing and they ran around the edge of the Hercules cabin. You strapped yourself in and sat there, staring inwards towards the middle of the plane. And down the middle of that cabin ran tall racks on which people hung coats and slung luggage. A man in an orange-coloured overall and headphones moved around, handing out plastic bags. Sophie thought perhaps they were being given large bags full of sweets, or something to be sick into, but it turned out he was handing ear-muffs to everyone.

Of course, the Hercules was full of people all going to Antarctica and, while they waited for the journey to start, Bonniface pointed them out to his children… helicopter pilots, geologists, penguin experts, drill-operators, and so on.

“It’s almost as good as going to another planet,” Edward whispered to Sophie, who nodded in a rather distracted way. As she had climbed on to the plane, suddenly the pendant, hidden under layers of warm clothes, had shifted against her skin as if it were startled. She had the odd idea that, even through layers of jerseys and jackets, it had recognised someone, and that somewhere in the Hercules, someone smiling and cheerful had also recognised – not the invisible pendant, perhaps, but certainly the whole Sapwood family, and had stopped smiling. Sophie peered around anxiously, but there wasn’t a single person looking disturbed, dismayed, or disgusted by the sight of a famous explorer taking three children on a dangerous expedition.

The Sapwood family settled down on the webbing seats and strapped themselves in. A merry crowd of Antarctic helicopter pilots were settling themselves opposite, and singing a fine old Antarctic helicopter-pilot’s song.

“Oh, let us meanderOut over Lake VandaWhere we’ll take a ganderAt prospects of snow.

Or we may be nosierAnd make for Cape CrozierThe prospect is rosierAt forty below!”

Sophie touched the front of her jacket under which the pendant was nestling – a warm tear just over her heart. Then something caught her eye. A cluster of bright orange waterproof coats with hoods was hanging almost opposite her, billowing out over the end of an empty section of seating, and below these coats she saw a pair of mukluks that looked as if they might have real feet in them. It was hard to be sure. But, feet or not, these mukluks were particularly interesting in themselves. They were blue, and decorated with gold and silver stars. Sophie liked the look of them. She liked the idea of someone taking starry strides across the Antarctic. But was there someone concealed by those coats… someone sleeping or, perhaps, hiding under them? It was hard to tell.

“There aren’t many windows,” muttered Edward interrupting Sophie’s thoughts.

“Where’s the air hostess?” she asked her father.

“There aren’t any air hostesses on an Antarctic Hercules,” cried Bonniface scornfully. “We’re not tourists!”

But just then the Hercules started up, and the cabin immediately became far too noisy for any of them to hear a word. Bonniface hastily slid ear-muffs on to Hotspur’s head, and gestured to Edward and Sophie to put on their ear-muffs as well. He pointed at the bag of books dangling from the rack that ran down the middle of the plane, meaning that they were both to read quietly because it was going to be too hard to talk during the flight.