After all the diver was not prepared to give any positive report. He
had found it a difficult job to get aboard the old hulk, which he said
must have lain there many, many years, for it seemed to be of a model
that had been in vogue away back in the days when Spanish galleons
carried cargoes of gold and silver stolen from the Mexicans across to
Spain, many of the clumsy sailing craft being lost on the way.
The presence of part of a high afterdeck betrayed the fact that it
belonged to that type of vessel, he told them. At which the captain
shot Oscar a look of grim delight, for doubtless he anticipated great
things to come.
All of them were of the opinion that they had actually come upon the
wreck of the chart, and hopes ran high. The second diver was now ready
to take his turn below. Time was a factor in the game. They were in the
hurricane belt, and though the period of the year when these “twisters”
are supposed to come out of the Windward Islands had passed, still
occasionally one is belated.
There were other reasons, too, why they should not dally. One of these
went by the name of Badger, and as such might be set down as a constant
menace. All day long they must scan the horizon, looking for any sign
of an approaching boat. Should such be discovered, haste would be made
to dismantle the float, so that all signs of their recent labors might
be destroyed, after which the submarine could drop out of sight.
In one quarter only could they see what appeared to be another Key. It
lay about ten or twelve miles away, possibly further, since distances
are so deceptive over the water.
This time it was the design of Captain Shooks to sink the submarine,
so that the diver might have the benefit of the electric searchlight,
which would aid him in his work very much indeed.
Jack went down with the boat, desirous of adding to his interesting
collection of sub-aqueous pictures. It was worth something to actually
see the diver, clad in his suit, handling an axe in the water, just as
though he might be a woodchopper in the forest attacking a tree.
But it needed a very powerful man to wield that axe, such was the
resistance of the water. Blows that required every ounce of strength he
could put in them made but a faint impression.
The wreck, as could be easily seen, lay partly on its side. On this
account it was necessary to fashion some sort of rude ladder by means
of which the diver could climb up to one of the openings in the deck.
All these years the sea had preserved the vessel, so that it was in
almost as good condition as when it went down with its cargo and
crew. Fishes had swarmed out of the hulk, and great stone crabs, with
monstrous, threatening claws, backed off as the diver made his way
about. He never knew what strange and horrible sea monsters he might
disturb after entering the interior of the wreck, one end of which was
partly buried in the sand.
It was about the middle of the afternoon when for the fourth time the
submarine ascended to the surface, the captain wishing to get the
report of the man who was just then going up. He had managed to get
part way inside the hulk, and it was possible that he might be in a
position to tell something encouraging.
Oscar and Ballyhoo had remained above this time, and when Jack came out
on deck he was just in time to discover them rowing toward the island
in the small, collapsible boat.
“Please wait for me,” he called out. “I’d like to go along, and take my
box with me. I ought to get a view of things from a little distance, so
as to take in the whole outfit, with the sea for a background, if you
can call it that.”
Accordingly, the other pair came back, and shipped Jack, together with
his inseparable companion, that wonderful box with its crank, necessary
machinery, and fine lens.
They leisurely pulled to the shore. A small, sandy beach offered an
inviting landing place, and the light boat soon ran up on the gentle
slope. Then some time was spent in watching Jack get busy, though after
he had once found his focus he soon secured all he wished in order to
complete his picture.
“Do we go back now?” asked Ballyhoo. “It feels so jolly just to stretch
your legs on solid ground again after all the time we’ve been cooped up
in those narrow quarters that I’d like to stay ashore a while, if it’s
all the same to you, Oscar.”
“I was going to suggest that we start out and explore the Key,” the one
addressed went on to say, at which Ballyhoo grinned amiably, and nodded
his head.
“Good idea, too,” he hastened to observe. “We’ve never had a chance
before to see what one of these sandy Keys is like. And from the looks
of things, now we’re close in, it wouldn’t be such a tough job to break
through that scrub. Most of the thick growth, it seems, is in the
mangrove thickets along the shores.”
“Will you come along with us, Jack?” asked Oscar.
“Please excuse me, boys,” the other replied. “This camera weighs a
whole lot, as you both know, and it’s a pretty hot day in the bargain.
I wouldn’t like to leave it behind, because we only fetched the one
with us this time, and if anything happened to injure it my cake would
be all dough.”
“Perhaps you’re sensible, after all, Jack,” laughed Oscar. “We may be
sorry we started before we get through with the job.”
“If we find the going hard through the island,” said Ballyhoo shrewdly,
“why, we could come back along the beach, mebbe. But shucks! there
isn’t going to be any difficulty at all. Still, I’m curious to know
what that smoke I saw meant.”
At hearing him say that Jack spoke up.
“I’m glad you thought it worth while to fetch your rifle along with
you, Oscar, because if anything should happen, and you did run across
some hard characters, they’d find you armed.”
“Oh! give Ballyhoo credit for thinking about the gun,” replied Oscar;
“but if we mean to get back before sunset, Ballyhoo, we’d better be
starting.”
They left Jack sitting there near the boat, and “fiddling” with
his camera, as Ballyhoo always called it when the artist chose to
manipulate certain screws, or make any sort of changes to suit his whim.
“Why, this isn’t half bad, after all, Oscar!” the Jones boy declared
after they had been moving along for some little time, keeping their
faces in the one set direction, which was easily done, since they had
the sun to guide them.
“A regular picnic, I should call it,” the leader said over his shoulder.
Some time afterwards Oscar reached the conclusion that they must be
drawing near the opposite side of the Key, having gone directly across
it from end to end. The breeze was rustling the serrated leaves of the
palmettoes, and waving the long fronds of the cocoanut trees, showing
that there was quite a little air stirring at this end of the island,
even while it seemed calm where they were working.
Suddenly Oscar stopped dead in his tracks.
“Did you hear anything then, Ballyhoo?” he asked.
“I certainly did,” came the reply, “and it sounded mighty like an oar
hitting the side of a boat, in the bargain.”
“Just what I thought,” continued the other. “Come, let’s creep forward
and take a look out. I expect we must be close to the beach that I’ve
figured lies at this end of the Key, protected by a reef or two further
off.”
Accordingly, they continued to advance, their eyes constantly on the
lookout for any sign of life beyond. Then they began to catch glimpses
of the water, showing that at this end of the Key the thick mangroves
did not grow at all.
“I can see green cocoanuts up there, hanging in clusters on those
trees,” whispered the observant Ballyhoo; for it had been one of his
most ardent hopes that while on this expedition to the semi-tropics
he might have the pleasure of knocking down a green cocoanut himself,
and trying to see what the mushy contents tasted like; for all his
experience hitherto had been with the ripened nuts of commerce, with
their milk, and hard rim of meat.
“Never mind that just now,” warned Oscar, in a whisper, “for we’ve got
other fish to fry. There, I heard that sound again, only further away.
And when that rustle among the leaves quiets down it strikes me I catch
the splash of oars.”
“There’s something doing, as sure as eggs are eggs,” muttered Ballyhoo,
even as the pair of them crept further on, and by degrees began to
get a clearer view of the pretty sandy beach, as well as the open sea
beyond.
“I see the boat!” snapped Ballyhoo suddenly.
“Not so loud, please,” warned his companion; “and don’t move again if
you can help it. The men who are rowing have their faces turned this
way, and might discover us.”
So Ballyhoo crouched there and hurriedly began working at the marine
glass case, which he had slung over his shoulder. Presently he brought
the contents out, and commenced adjusting the glasses to suit his
eyesight, knowing just about how far to lengthen them.
“Fortunately, the sun is almost back of us,” Oscar was saying, “and
on that account it couldn’t flash from the glass, and make them take
notice. But don’t move too hurriedly, whatever you do, Ballyhoo. Plenty
of time to get there safe and sound.”
Both of them took a look through the glasses.
“One thing sure,” Ballyhoo was saying, excitedly, “they’re no sponger
crowd nor yet turtle hunters.”
“That goes without saying,” Oscar told him. “One look at the boat
would tell the story, for you can see it’s a fine mahogany one, and a
small gasolene launch at that.”
“There are three men aboard, two of them using the oars, and the other
sitting in the stern-sheets taking care of the rudder. I can see him
looking back most of the time, as if he wanted to steer in a certain
course, so as not to come out where our people on the float might
glimpse the launch. But I say, Oscar, tell me, will you, what are those
ninnies doing all that rowing for when they could go off in fine style
if they only started up their engine?”
“For the same reason, I take it, Ballyhoo, that the steersman is
keeping the Key between himself and our float--he doesn’t want to have
his presence known if he can help it. And you ought to remember, that
muffler or no muffler, most of these gasolene engines have a way of
making a great puttering noise when they work. Why, you can sometimes
hear them three miles away. Perhaps a little later they’ll think it
safe to start up.”
“They’re heading right for that other Key far away off yonder, too,
Oscar. Here, take the glasses and see for yourself. Well, this _is_ a
great mystery, believe me.”
A minute later and Oscar uttered a snort as of satisfaction.
“The boat turned just then, when one of the men stopped rowing to light
his pipe, and I had a chance to make out a name that is painted up
at the bow,” was what he told his mate, who, of course, immediately
exclaimed:
“And what was that name, Oscar--the _Dauntless_?”
“You have said it, Ballyhoo, for that was just what I saw there,” said
Oscar.