CHASING THE SILVER WHALE.
But still Frank believed that the Dolphin was gaining.
He entertained one fond hope.
This was that the whale would turn and show fight. He knew the inherent
pugnacity of the species.
But it did not.
For some reason or other it chose to hold its erratic course. To attempt
to overtake it was impossible.
Frank saw this, but yet hoped that some turn of fortune would aid him.
The chase came to a termination, though, in a peculiar way.
Suddenly the whale vanished as quickly as though dispelled into mist.
Frank fancied that it had taken a turn at right angles.
He instantly slackened the engines. The Dolphin was coming about when
she found herself immersed in a cloud, which even the electric light
could not penetrate.
Nothing could be seen in any direction. All was blackness. It was an
astounding turn of affairs.
“Great heavens!” cried Stanhope. “What has happened?”
The Dolphin was at a standstill, preparatory to coming about.
For an instant Frank did not know what to do.
Which way had the whale gone? What did the sudden wave of darkness mean?
The answer came almost instantly, and in a startling way.
Suddenly at the pilot-house window there loomed up a giant face, as full
of deviltry and cunning as ever was seen.
It had a hawk-like beak, cruel jaws, and eyes round and cat-like. Great
arms, adorned with curious feelers of spongy material, completely
enveloped the hull of the boat.
In that instant all recognized the nature of the creature.
“An octopus!” screamed Stanhope.
It was truly one of that monster variety of cuttlefish or octopus which
inhabit the depths of the Pacific.
The black mist in the water was now easily explained.
The octopus possesses a bag filled with an inky fluid which it dispenses
through the water upon the approach of danger.
Frank was filled with horror and dismay. Not that he feared the attack
of the octopus, but it was the means of his losing track of the white
whale.
The arms of the octopus held the boat securely. Its ravenous beak beat
furiously against the cabin window.
Of course its strength was not sufficient to break it, nor could any
harm be done the Dolphin.
But it was a question of no light sort as to how they were to release
themselves from the clutches of the monster. Of course this must be done
before they could hope to proceed.
“What a shame!” cried Stanhope. “We have now lost track of the silver
whale.”
“It is hard luck,” agreed Frank.
“We must make the best of it.”
“Of course. First to get rid of this encumbrance and then to go on.”
Frank Reade, Jr., was not the one to be puzzled by a contingency of this
kind—at least, he could not be baffled.
He had soon hit upon an expedient.
From the engine-room he had procured a long coil of wire; then he donned
some rubber gloves and connected the wire with the dynamos.
Enough of the current could be thus furnished to kill a dozen men.
Frank handled the wire carefully.
The feelers of the octopus were pressed against the steel frame of the
pilot-house. Frank made a clever circuit, throwing the current suddenly
into the steel frame.
The effect was electrical and fatal to the octopus.
It received the whole charge of a number of thousand volts. At once its
huge arms relaxed, and it sank back.
The Dolphin was freed from its encumbrance, and now could go ahead with
ease.
The inky cloud which had obscured the water had now become dispelled.
The searchlight’s rays flashed everywhere.
But the silver whale was nowhere to be seen.
It had made good its escape. Once more it was like looking for a needle
in a haystack.
Certainly the outlook was discouraging. But Frank Reade, Jr., had the
right kind of pluck.
He would never give up while there was a certainty that the silver whale
was in existence.
“We will find him again!” he declared. “Possibly he is even now not far
off.”
“Perhaps on the surface,” ventured Stanhope.
“Exactly.”
Frank touched the lever, and the boat instantly rose to the surface. As
it came up into daylight every eye scanned the sea.
Everywhere was the unbroken expanse of rolling brine. Only one object
was visible, and that was a white sail far distant on the horizon.
That it was the ship Southampton was probable.
“Shall we rejoin her?” asked Stanhope.
“I think not,” replied Frank. “Nothing will be gained. Let her go her
way. We may work better alone.”
So this was the last seen of the English cutter. Her sails were soon
invisible.
For some while the Dolphin traveled on the surface of the sea. Then
Frank decided to go down.
So the Dolphin descended once more to submarine depths.
For a whole day she kept on thus. Then, as night was coming on, the
object of the quest was again seen.
The silver whale was floating lazily in a growth of submarine plants not
a quarter of a mile distant. It did not seem conscious of the approach
of the Dolphin.
Frank was in the pilot-house.
The young inventor instantly brought the Dolphin to a stop. He had
decided this time upon more cautious tactics.
He was determined to make sure of his game this time.
He allowed the Dolphin to float gradually nearer to the monster.
Stanhope was with him in the pilot-house.
The explorer watched Frank’s tactics with great eagerness.
“You have given up the idea of trying to run down and ram the whale?” he
asked.
“Yes,” replied Frank. “I am going to try a different game.”
“Torpedoes?”
“Yes.”
Frank took a torpedo and went forward. He placed it in the tube. Drawing
a careful line on the whale, he pressed the pneumatic lever.
There was a recoil and a muffled report. The torpedo had sailed through
the water apparently in a straight course for the whale.
Had it struck the cetacean it would have proved its end. But
unfortunately this was not the case.
The torpedo just passed over the body of the whale. Gliding fifty yards
beyond it struck a reef, and exploded with terrible force.
For a few moments the water literally boiled in the vicinity.
The whale shot forward like a stone from a catapult.
One moment it was visible flying in the distance.
Quick as thought Frank saw his mistake and acted.
He sprang into the pilot-house and pressed the motor key. The boat shot
forward like a flash.
Straight after the whale it went. One moment the latter was visible.
Then a great wall of blackness loomed up and the whale vanished.
Not recognizing the nature of this trick, and fearing a dangerous
obstacle, Frank pressed the lever forward and brought the boat to a
stop.
“Great Scott!” cried Stanhope, excitedly, “it is a big submarine cave,
Frank.”
“A cave!” gasped the young inventor.
“Certainly. A cave under the sea. The whale has gone into it.”
This was certainly the truth.
Frank was greatly surprised. He gazed into the mouth of the cavern in
amazement.
It extended far into the bowels, of the earth.
Frank brought the searchlight to bear upon the inner regions of the
cave.
A wonderful sight was revealed.
It seemed to be carved out of a stone which was emerald-like in color
and broken into various conformations.
The sight was dazzling, and the explorers gazed upon it spellbound.
“Begorra! but it’s a beautiful sight!” cried Barney, with mouth agape.
“Did any av yez iver see the loikes av it?”
“Indeed, it is grand beyond anything I have ever seen!” exclaimed
Stanhope.
But Frank was the first to recover from the spell of wonder upon the
party.
He was looking for the whale.
It had vanished into one of the labyrinthian passages and left no trace
behind it.
How far this extended none in the party could guess.
But the Dolphin was able to penetrate some distance into the cavern, for
the arches were high.
For what seemed like an interminable distance the Dolphin threaded its
way into the depths.
Frank was hopeful, even sanguine, that the silver whale was at last
entrapped.
Of course there was the possibility that it had escaped by some other
outlet. In this case it was no doubt by this time far away.
But Frank pressed forward as far as the size of the Dolphin would admit.
Then the sides of the submarine boat collided with the walls of stone.
It could go no further.
Here was a predicament. The voyagers exchanged puzzled glances. What was
to be done?
Frank was thoughtful. Stanhope paced up and down nervously. Barney
sputtered and Pomp fumed.
“Begorra! I niver see the bate av it!” cried the Celt; “that whale is
loike the divil’s own. He do be squeezing out av the smallest holes I
iver see!”
“Golly, but I done fink he am got away now fo’ suah!” rejoined Pomp. “It
am a drefful shame we didn’t shoot it wif dat torpedo!”
“Bejabers, it’s a hoodoo yez are, naygur!” declared Barney, unable to
restrain giving Pomp a jab.
The darky shook his woolly head.
“Yo am drefful smart, Mistah I’ish,” he retorted. “If yo’ don’ look out
yo’ might die young.”
“Begorra, I’ll surely die afore this voyage is out if yez bring us any
more such luck, yez omadhaun!”
Barney’s bantering manner was like a red flag in the eyes of a mad bull
to Pomp.
“Don’ yo’ call me any sich names ag’in, sah, or by mah soul I done gib
yo’ de worst trashin’ yo’ eber had.”
“Whurroo! Mebbe yez had betther thry it!” howled Barney, dancing about
like a dervish, and all ready for a ruction.
It began to look as if one would occur.