WHISPERING DEPTHS
Johnny had an active mind. Figuring and planning were almost continuous
activities with him. Sometimes he really tried to slow the process up,
but his mind would keep right on, figuring and planning.
As he rowed slowly back to the boat, his thoughts were particularly
active. There were things to be done. He would see that they _were_ done,
in the end; he surely would. By going down in the steel ball as many
times as Dave wanted him to, and by taking pictures, he'd put Dave in
debt to him. Then he'd persuade Mildred to go down in the steel ball.
Dave would like that. Then, at just the right time, he and Mildred would
ask Dave to help find that trading boat at the bottom of the sea, and to
float it once more.
Then they would get busy on those spies, he and Mildred and--and anyone
else who would help. It was a patriotic duty, by thunder! It surely was!
In his mind's eye he saw the map of the Caribbean Sea, these islands at
one side, the Panama Canal on the other. If the Europeans got these
islands, what would happen to the canal? Filled with rocks and mud--that
was the answer! They'd bomb the very daylights out of it. Yes, they must
uncover those spies--at least some of them. He wondered whether the green
arrow would show tonight, and whether he would be able to make any sense
out of the numbers he had written down in his notebook.
"It's some sort of code," he told himself repeatedly. "If I can decipher
it we may get somewhere."
But here he was alongside the _Sea Nymph_, and Dave was saying:
"Hello, Johnny. We're shifting our position tonight--coming in a little
closer. Tomorrow afternoon I'd like you to go down with me to get some
pictures. You won't mind, will you?"
That was exactly what Johnny had planned. "No, I won't mind," he said,
"that will be keen."
A mist drifted out over the ocean. All that night Johnny paced the deck
in a chill fog. No green light showed from the island hills. Once he
thought he heard men's voices, but nothing came of it. He was glad enough
when he could crawl into his berth, draw his blankets over him, and lose
himself in sleep.
When he awoke the sun was shining. It was mid-afternoon, and Dave was
waiting for him to appear, for their trip below.
"What a life!" he murmured. After he had gulped some hot coffee,
hurriedly bolted some seabiscuits and a piece of pie he reappeared on
deck.
"All ready?" Dave asked.
"Soon as I get my camera and things."
"Good! I'll have the steel ball in shape P.D.Q.," Dave grinned,
good-naturedly.
"He's really a nice chap," Johnny thought. "Only he takes science and
discovery pretty seriously. I suppose we'll discover some saber-toothed
viper fish, or maybe some flying snails!" He smiled at his thoughts. Life
was not half bad after all.
Half an hour later he was experiencing such thrills as only the deep,
deep sea could bring. Some five hundred feet beneath the surface of the
sea he sat doubled up in his place, staring at an ever changing panorama.
A rocky wall, not twenty feet from him, stood up like a sky-scraper,
straight and tall. Here and there it was broken by fissures and caves.
Everywhere it was festooned with sea vegetation--seaweed, kelp, anemones.
All these, with coral that rose like Gothic architecture, were
entrancing.
Dave was by his side--not to admire, but to record. The look on his face
was almost solemn. As they moved slowly downward Dave spoke into a small
microphone and Doris, up on deck, recorded his words. Strange words they
were, too: "A school of parrot fish; three hatchet fish; two
round-mouths; a golden-tailed serpent dragon; a--oh--oh!--Hold
everything!"
At that instant Dave's window was opposite a dark cavern. As he threw on
a more powerful light he caught the gleam of two, great eyes. How far
apart they were!
Despite his efforts to remain calm, Johnny's heart skipped a beat as, at
Dave's command, he touched his moving-picture camera and set it
recording. What sort of creature was this? A whale? A blackfish? Or some
strange, unknown denizen of the deep? Suppose at this instant it should
become enraged, should rush out of its hiding place and drag the steel
ball out into the deep--to send it crashing against the rocky wall? A
broken window would mean instant death. And yet Johnny's hand did not
tremble as he adjusted his camera....
Just after the steel ball had gone over the side, Mildred Kennedy, in her
dugout canoe, had arrived for a visit. It had called for real courage,
this little journey. From a distance these _Sea Nymph_ people had seemed
so serious. All but Johnny. "But it's not decent to stay away and not be
properly sociable," she had told her grandfather. So here she was.
There had been time only for a brief word of welcome from Doris. After
that, whispering excitedly--"Dave and Johnny are below in the steel ball.
It--it's dreadfully thrilling, even here on deck," Doris had clamped a
pair of head-phones over her guest's ears and had whispered tensely:
"Listen!"
So they were seated on the deck of the _Sea Nymph_, listening intently
for reports from below. At the same time, they talked.
"I came to visit my grandfather," Mildred said, "just as sort of a lark.
I was storm bound indoors for two weeks, and when I saw how simple and
kind the natives were, the happy, free life they lived, and yet how many
things could be done for them, I wanted to stay. So I just did. And I am
glad. Only--" A shadow passed over her face.
"Listen!" Doris held up a finger. "Thought I heard a whisper. It--it
couldn't be Dave! I--I hope nothing has gone wrong. It's truly dangerous
being down there, and yet one does learn so much--"
"Shish!" Mildred held up a finger. "I--listen--I hear a whisper! It--it's
numbers he's saying. How strange!"
As the two girls sat in silence, pressing the phones to their ears,
listening with their every sense, they caught--in a low whisper:
"Two hundred--and--eight--and a half. Ten. No--now a drop--thirty,
thirty-one--two--three--"
Then Dave's voice boomed through, drowning out the whisper. "O.K. We saw
some sort of monster," he was saying. "He was in one of these caverns and
Johnny got his picture--we hope! Wish you were down here."
"So do we!" Doris' voice exclaimed. "We heard a whisper. Thought you
might--"
"You've been dreaming!" Dave boomed back. "Forget it--and tell that man
at the cable to let us down again, slowly. Boy!--how I do want to see
things!"
Yes, Dave wanted to see things. Most of all, on this particular day he
wished to go down--down--down into the watery depths, to discover, if
possible, just how far down, sea vegetation and coral were to be found.
"If only I don't find bottom too soon," he thought. "And if the sea
remains calm."
The sea. He shuddered a little at this. If the anchors held--all would be
well. But if they should give way--that would be truly terrible. To the
right and left of them, not a quarter-mile apart, were parallel walls of
rock. To be dragged against one of these--? Who could tell what disaster
might result!
* * * * * * * *
In the meantime, as they listened, the two girls talked of many things,
of home, of thrilling tropical nights, of Mildred's sunken schooner and
many other things.
Of a sudden, their conversation was interrupted by a sound, conveyed
through their head-phones.
"Sh--"--Doris' hand went up. "It's that strange whisper again!"
"Whispering waters!" Mildred murmured. "How mysterious!"
Low as her tone was, the whisperer apparently caught it, for--still in
that hoarse whisper--there came back:
"So we are mysterious! How very grand! And it was a lady who spoke!"
Once again Dave's voice broke in upon the whisperer: "Doris!" Tenseness
was evident in his tone. "Doris!--Tell them to hold us right where we
are!"
"_Hold it!_" Doris called to the windlass man, instantly.
"_Hold it_," came back the quick acknowledgment.
"All this," Doris said to Mildred, "is most provoking. You are just dying
to know what strange things are happening below, what marvelous
discoveries are being made--but the only part you have in it is listening
and waiting!"
Down in the steel ball, Dave had caught a movement to the right, away
from the cliff. Switching his light in that direction he had discovered a
huge, dark object moving slowly through the water.
"It's that 'thing'!" he told himself. "The very thing I've seen before!"
To his great disappointment, the form was as indistinct as before. That
it might be a whale he knew quite well. He suggested the idea to Johnny.
"But it's not a whale--I'm sure of it!" Johnny whispered. Swinging his
moving-picture camera into range, he managed to catch the rear half of it
before it passed from view.
"The camera sees more than the eye," he murmured. "Here's hoping."
Dave turned again to his task of exploring the under-sea wall. He
signalled their continued descent.
A moment later the ear-phones on deck were silent. Both Dave and the
mysterious whisperer were unheard.
"Who _could_ that have been?" Mildred asked.
"I've no idea," was Doris' reply.
"Do you know," Mildred added dreamily, "I have a feeling that whisperer
was not far away!"
Doris started to speak but checked herself, suddenly. Once again she had
caught the weird tones of the whisperer.
"One-eighty--eighty-two--eighty-six," he droned. Then he raised his voice
above the whisper, and called:
"Hello there--you mermaids! Are you still there?"
"He _must_ be near us!" Doris exclaimed. "If not--why would he call us
'mermaids'?"
* * * * * * * *
At that same instant Dave was experiencing a thrill. Arrived at a spot
opposite a broad shelf on the perpendicular wall, he and Johnny found
themselves within five feet of the rock. Vegetation, which had been
thinning out, was just disappearing.
And then Dave saw it--a long, wavering arm, reaching out for the steel
ball. Involuntarily, he started back from the window. Then he laughed.
A second arm appeared. Then, a third.
"Octopus!" he whispered to Johnny. "Such a monster!" Instantly his light
was on, and Johnny's movie camera was grinding away.
"Only one of his kind I've ever seen!" Dave was thrilled to the tips of
his toes. "Wish he'd climb on board and let us take him up. He won't do
that, but I'll get him, all the same! Some time I'll get him!
"How ugly he is! See how his eyes shine, Johnny! People sure would throng
around him in an aquarium! Put him in with some gorgeous, tropical fish
and you'd have a 'beauty and the beast' show! You--"
Suddenly he stopped speaking, to stare straight at the wall. They were
moving away! There could be no doubt of it. Fascinated by the strangeness
of the situation, he and Johnny sat motionless while the octopus faded
from sight. Two yards--three--five--ten--twenty--they were swinging off!
And behind him was a second wall, against which the window of the steel
ball might crack like an egg shell.
At that instant Dave heard a strange voice repeating an idiotic question:
"_Hello there, you mermaids. Are you still there?_"
The very sound of a human voice seemed to rouse him.
"Doris!" he called. "The anchors have pulled loose! The ship is
drifting!"
"_Hello, there_," called that same voice. "_So you're not a mermaid,
after all!_"
Something had gone wrong with Dave's radio, Doris thought. His voice did
not come through clearly.
"Hello! Hello Dave!" Doris called. "Repeat! What did you say?"
"_I said are you a mermaid?_" came in that teasing voice.
"Get off the air!" Doris stormed.
"Doris!" Dave roared. His voice came through clearly now. "The ship's
adrift! Tell the captain to order our main anchor line played out--to
pull hard to port!"
"Anchor line out! Hard to port!" the girl cried.
"Anchor line out. Hard to port!" came booming back the repetition.
Instantly Doris found her head in a whirl. Dave and Johnny were down a
full thousand feet. On each side of their ball a rock wall rose high
above them. To crash against it might mean disaster.
"Haul away--Top speed!" came in Dave's usual calm voice.
"Haul away. Top speed!" Doris called to the control man.
Complete silence followed. Even the "whisperer" appeared to have sensed
the tenseness of the situation and had gone off the air.
That there was to be a race against time with their lives as a grand
prize, Johnny realized at once. Here they were, several hundred feet down
in the black depths of the sea, drifting at a fairly rapid rate toward a
rocky wall. If they hit that wall? He shuddered at the thought. The
pressure of water at that depth was tremendous. If the ball cracked,
nothing could save them.
"Is there anything at all we can do?" he asked Dave.
"Not a thing, I guess," Dave answered. Then, "Yes! Yes, there might be,
at that! There are the levers! They are _outside_ the ball and can be
worked from _within_! I had them fixed up for gathering outside samples.
If we lifted them into position, they'd lessen the shock if we hit the
wall!"
No sooner said than done! Groping about, Johnny seized a handle here,
another there, as Dave was doing. He felt much better when the outside
levers were in position. They would provide a little protection, at
least.
With astonishing speed, now, the wall approached. They could see every
detail of the seagrowth clinging there. "Ten yards," Johnny guessed.
"Eight--five--three--" He was sitting on the inner handle of the lever
and gripping the other hard. "Now--now comes the test!" he breathed.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when there came a grinding impact
that all but lifted him from his place. And then--they were free of the
ledge!
"Free!" Dave cried joyously. "Doris! We are safe!" he called into his
speaker.
The ball rose slowly above the top of the ledge.
Dave, however, had spoken too soon. Scarcely had he settled back when a
great spiral of coral, like the towers of a church, appeared to leap at
them. This, he knew, grew from the top of the ledge.
There was just time for a lightning decision, but they were prepared for
it.
"This lever is closest," Dave exclaimed. "It's our window or the lever!"
Throwing their whole weight on the lever handle, they waited a
second--two--three--ten--twenty. Johnny heard his watch ticking them
off....
Then came the heavy jolt. He was thrown so violently that his head struck
the top, and his senses reeled.
When at last he was able to sit up and look out, he murmured a fervent
"Thank God." For the hazard was past. The glorious blue of water was all
about them.
Fifteen minutes later the steel ball rested on the _Sea Nymph's_ deck. A
few more moments and, hands first, like frogs leaping from a jar, the two
tumbled out on the deck.
"Hel--hello, folks!" Dave said, standing up a trifle unsteadily. "How's
the weather up here?"
"That," said Doris, gripping Dave's arm without realizing it and giving
Johnny a happy smile, "that was awful!"
Mildred, gazing at them admiringly, echoed the thought.
"How about a glass of lemonade, and--and something to go with it?" Dave
demanded. "Chocolate coated marshmallow cake, macaroons, and--"
"Dave, you'll get fat," Doris laughed.
"And then I wouldn't be able to get into the steel ball. Wouldn't that be
grand?
"But no!" Dave answered his own question. "It wouldn't! Not at all. For
I've been seeing things--wonderful things! And I'm going back tomorrow!"
After their little feast on deck, Doris accompanied Mildred to the boat's
side, gave her a hand as she dropped lightly into her dugout, and said in
a friendly tone:
"You'll come again, won't you--very soon?"
"Oh, yes!" Mildred exclaimed. "I'll fairly haunt you from now on, for we
do get a little lonely--grandfather and I. But you must all come over and
see us too! Won't you?"
"Oh, yes, very soon," Doris answered, cordially.
"Day after tomorrow is Sunday--how about then?"
"I'll let you know. It's up to Dave, really. He's so absorbed he almost
forgets to eat. You see," Doris went on, "he's very fond of my
grandfather, and wants to help all he can."
"These grandfathers of ours!" Mildred laughed.
Half an hour later Johnny came upon Doris, standing before an easel and
putting the last touches on a picture of the sea, the island, and a
gorgeous sunset.
"I didn't know you were an artist," he said in genuine surprise.
"I'm not," Doris frowned. "I only make a try at it. Those colors! You
never can get them just right!"
"Looks swell!" Johnny said, admiringly. "Wish I could do half so well.
Why don't you try an _underseascape_?"
"What would that be?" Doris wrinkled her brow.
"You go to the bottom of the sea, fifty feet or so down, in a diving
helmet. You set your easel on the bottom, weight it down, and
paint--whatever you see there!"
"Not really?"
"I read about it in a book. Found it in the ship's library. Anyway--it
would be fun trying."
"Water would spoil your paint."
"It says not," Johnny grinned. "Only trouble is--little fish, like flies,
get into your paint!"
"I'll try it some time," Doris declared. "I've been down twice with Dave.
It's thrilling--walking on the bottom of the sea. Thanks for the idea,
Johnny!"