AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.
This startling announcement of Wade’s caused a chill to traverse Frank’s
frame. He shot a hasty glance at the distant vessel.
Then he saw the startling scene which had induced Wade’s declaration.
The storm had swooped down upon the schooner like a foul fiend. One
brief glimpse of her fate was had.
She was seen to keel over with the force of the blast. Then her sails
were in ribbons and her foremast snapped like a pipestem.
The next moment she was on her beam-ends. Then the black cloud shut her
from view.
The next moment the storm struck the Sea Diver. What followed was ever
after like a dream.
The hurricane almost blew the staunch little boat out of the water.
Enormous seas were hurrying and crashing over her deck.
Frank had ordered all into the cabin, and the doors and windows were
closed hermetically. But the shock of the storm threatened to dash the
little craft to pieces.
Frank saw the possibility of much damage being done, so he cried:
“Stand by the engines, Barney, I am going to send the boat down.”
Frank pressed an electric button. In a moment the Sea Diver sank below
the surface.
Down she settled, and for a moment all was darkness aboard her. Then
Frank pressed a small button.
In a moment every electric light aboard was in full blast. A wonderful
scene was spread to view.
The depth of the sea at this point was not more than one hundred and
fifty fathoms, so that the voyagers very quickly came in sight of the
bottom.
Unlike the bed of the Pacific or the Indian Oceans, the Atlantic is
mostly devoid of coral reefs or reaches of white sand.
There was a vast area of mud and slime, with some few marine plants
spread to view. Huge serpent-like eels wriggled through this, and
myriads of dark-hued fish scurried away rapidly.
The scene was a sombre and by no means attractive one. Wade was not much
impressed.
“Pshaw,” he exclaimed, in sheer disappointment, “so this is the home of
the mermaid and the charm of the deep sea, of which we read such
alluring accounts? Ugh! What a disillusion!”
“Ah, but this is not a type of deep-sea regions,” replied Frank. “This
is a dirty part of the Atlantic, but before we return I think you will
see some beautiful sights. We shall find it different in the Caribbean.”
“I hope so,” replied the scientist, with disgust. “Certainly this is a
horrible conception of deep-sea life, but I cannot help thinking of that
vessel. Do you suppose she is weathering the storm?”
“It is a question,” replied Frank. “She was in very bad shape. However,
let us hope that she will.”
“Amen to that. Is there nothing we can do to give her aid?”
“I fear not; at least until the storm abates.”
“She may be at the bottom by that time.”
“That is possible. If afloat, however, she will be crippled and sorely
in need of aid.”
The Sea Diver did not rest upon the muddy bottom, but was held in
suspension about twenty feet from it. Frank’s purpose was to return to
the surface as quickly as possible after the abating of the storm.
After an hour had passed it was ventured to ascend. Frank took the wheel
of the Diver and held her steady.
Up she went.
Soon she felt the motion of the sea’s surface. It was not rough, and
Frank concluded that the hurricane had passed.
So he let the Diver leap up into daylight. The electric lights were shut
off at the same moment.
Eagerly the voyagers swept the rolling expanse with their eyes. Not a
sign of the schooner or any other vessel could be seen.
“She has gone to the bottom,” gasped Wade; “her fate is sealed!”
So it seemed. Frank procured his glass and scanned the vast expanse. He
closed it, finally, saying:
“She has either gone down, or else the storm has blown her beyond our
range of vision.”
“Do you believe the latter possible?” asked Wade.
“It is very likely.”
“I don’t know why it is,” said the scientist, “but I am mightily
interested in that vessel. I would like to know her fate for a
certainty.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Frank, with some surprise. “Why more interested in
her than any other craft we might meet?”
“I can hardly tell,” replied Wade, “but it is a certain fact that I am.
I have some sort of a curious feeling that our career is in some manner
intertwined with hers.”
Frank could not resist a laugh.
“Moonshine!” he said. “Your imagination is getting the best of you, Mr.
Wade.”
The scientist shook his head.
“It may be all nonsense,” he said, “but we shall see.”
The sea was yet a trifle rough. The hurricane had swept away beyond the
horizon and was quite out of sight.
The Sea Diver once more stood away on her course. In a little while
matters had assumed the usual routine.
Barney was at work slushing the deck to get rid of the accumulation
gained by the boat’s submersion. There were heaps of seaweed, great
masses of jellyfish and other forms of marine life.
Pomp was in the galley preparing a smoking repast. He had opened a
window to admit air, and Barney chanced to pass near it.
It was an ill moment for the Celt.
Pomp had mixed some dough for bread a short while before, and now had
discovered that the yeast was unfit for use, and the bread as a result,
was spoiled. This put the darky out of temper.
“I don’ see wha’ was de mattah wif dat ar yeast,” he grumbled. “Kain’t
seem to do nuffin’ wif it. Dere am all dat dough sp’iled. It meks me
berry mad. Well, dere’s one fing it can make food fo’, an’ dat am de
fishes. So here goes!”
The coon picked up the huge mass of dough and hurled it through the open
window. He expected that it would land far out in the water. But it
didn’t.
As luck had it, Barney was just passing that way. He came in a line with
the window just in time to get that soft, sticky mass full in the side
of the head.
The soft dough split around his skull, with such force did it strike
him, and stopped his ear, nostrils and eyes. The Celt went down as if
struck by a cannonball.
For a second he was unable to realize what had happened. Pomp was for
that brief instant aghast.
“Massy Lordy!” he muttered; “I done hit somebody!”
Then he ran to the window and looked out.
When he saw who it was and noted Barney’s comical plight he could not
help but roar with laughter.
The Celt scrambled to his feet. His mop was at one end of the deck and
his pail of suds at the other.
“Tare an’ ‘ounds!” he roared, as he put up his hands and felt the mass
of soft dough, not knowing what it was, “it’s me brains they’ve knocked
out av me! Howly murther! It’s kilt I am! It’s kilt I am!”
Then he chanced to uncover one eye and saw Pomp in a paroxysm at the
galley window. He glanced down at his hand, which was full of dough.
Well, the transition was brief. A madder Irishman old Neptune never bore
upon his heaving bosom.
With angry hands Barney tried to claw the dough from his mop of red
hair. Of course, it only clung the worse.
He managed to get his eyes clear and his ear, then he made the air blue
about him.
“Howly shmoke, but I’ll have the heart av yez fer that!” he roared, “yez
black-skinned ape, yez! Have at yez! I’ll tache ye to insult a
gintlemin!”
“Hi—hi—hi! Massy Lordy!” howled Pomp, “dat am de berry funniest fing!”
“Yez think it funny eh?” roared Barney. “Well, yez won’t think that way
whin I git done wid yez!”
“Ho—ho—ho! hi—hi—hi!”
“Phwat do yez mane by threating me thot way?” roared Barney, trying to
claw the dough out of his hair.
“How yo’ fink I know yo’ was gwine to get hit?” cried Pomp. “Wha’ yo’
git in de way, fo’?”
“Do yez mane to say yez didn’t throw that on purpose?”
“Course I didn’. I was goin’ to frow it into de sea when yo’ head cum
along an’ jes’ got in de way.”
“Arrah, an’ that’ll do very well fer yez to say,” cried the Celt, “but
if yez think I belave it——”
“Shuah, it’s de troof,” protested Pomp.
“I’ll tache yez to hit me wid a doughball an’ thin lie about it
aftherwards,” roared the Celt. And then he made a dive for the window.
But Pomp clashed it shut in his face. The Celt rushed around to the
galley door.
But the darky shut the bolt in this, and for the time was master of the
situation. But, though baffled, Barney was not defeated.
He retired, vowing the direst of vengeance. It took an hour’s hard work
to get the clinging dough out of his hair.
Nor did he get any sympathy from any one. When Frank and Wade heard the
story they laughed heartily. This made Barney only the madder.
“Be me sowl!” he muttered, “I’ll more than aven it up wid that black
rascal. Shure, I’ll tache him manners!”
How Barney accomplished his purpose we shall see at a later day.
The Sea Diver kept on its course for the rest of that day.
Night finally shut down, dark and moonless. But with the searchlight it
was easy for the Diver to travel, with no fear of a collision.
She was rapidly nearing Key West, and would the next day be in Gulf
waters. The air was fresh and delightful, and the voyagers sat out on
deck until a late hour.
While thus enjoying themselves, suddenly Barney sprung up.
“Shure, sor!” he cried, motioning to Frank, “there’s a lot of colored
loights over there. Phwat do yez make av it?”
“A vessel in distress!” exclaimed Frank, as he scrutinized the distant
signals. “Do you suppose it was our schooner?”