BROUGHT TO LIFE
Down through the limpid depths of the great reservoir of water went Joe
Strong. He was swimming toward the bottom as fast as he could go, for
he wanted to get there quickly and begin the work of rescue, and he
knew every second counted.
He had his eyes open, of course, and he was glad the sun was shining
brightly overhead, so he could have light to work by. In forty feet of
water not much sunlight penetrates, even on a bright day, but Joe had
been told that the diver had a small electric light with him, and this,
perhaps, would still be glowing. The current was turned on, that Joe
knew, but the lamp might have been broken in the accident that had
happened.
Down, down, down went the young diver--a veritable "boy fish" now if
ever there was such a thing. Joe had a glimpse of the air hose, like
some long, thin water snake, beside him. It went down into the depths,
as did the life-line and the thicker hoisting rope.
"And where they end--there's the diver," reasoned Joe. He used the air
hose as a guide and swam as near to it as he could. In a few seconds he
found himself nearing the bottom of the reservoir. It was of natural
formation, for the dam had been built across a narrow valley, and when
the water came in, it covered from view the site of a small forest,
much of which had been cleared away, leaving only stumps and rocks.
Suddenly, before Joe's eyes, loomed a strange shape. It was almost like
that of some deep-sea monster, with great, round, staring, glassy eyes,
and as Joe turned a somersault and landed on his feet he stood beside
the imprisoned diver. The latter was aware of something unusual going
on, and turned to stare at Joe through the glass of his helmet. Joe
could not see the man's face in that light, but he knew it must show
deadly fear.
In a trice Joe decided what he must do. It was not easy to stay beneath
the water, for his natural buoyancy had a tendency to force him up, and
his first act, after landing and feeling himself shooting back toward
the surface, was to reach out and grasp the heavy rope that he knew was
fastened about the diver's waist. There could be no harm to the diver
in this, Joe reasoned, since the men up above were putting a much
greater strain on the hempen cable. And by holding thus to the rope Joe
prevented himself from going up.
Though the diver must have been greatly astonished to see a young man
in a pair of old trousers and a ragged shirt suddenly appear beside him
in the reservoir, Tom Rand could show nothing of what he felt. Talking
was out of the question.
Suddenly the water about Joe and the diver was illuminated, and Joe
looked to see the electric, waterproof light glowing. The diver had
turned the switch to give his rescuer every chance to work.
And in that light Joe saw what the trouble was. One of the diver's
leaden-weighted feet was caught in the valve of the pipe in such a way
that he was held a prisoner. No wonder the men up above had not been
able to pull loose Tom Rand. To do so they would have had to pull apart
his diving suit, or at least pull off one leg of it, and this would
have meant drowning the diver.
Joe, holding to the heavy rope, was a few feet off the bottom of the
reservoir now. To work effectively he must stand directly on the
bottom, and he must be held down in some way. When a diver makes a
descent he is pulled down by shoes which are heavily weighted with
lead. Otherwise the buoyancy of the diving dress, filled as it is with
air, would send him to the surface. And in Joe's case his human body,
with his lungs inflated with air, would have come up after his dive had
he not held himself down. But he must seek a new means of hold, if he
was to work to release the unfortunate man.
Joe looked down at the water-covered ground, now illuminated by the
electric light. He saw just what he needed. Near the outlet pipe, in
the valve of which the diver's foot was caught, was an old stump. There
was a root exposed--a root with a sort of loop--and under this Joe
thrust one foot. It was almost like the stirrup of a saddle, only
instead of holding Joe's foot up, the root held it down.
"Now I can have both my hands free," thought Joe, as he fixed his foot
firmly in the loop of the root.
Joe looked through the glass-windowed copper helmet. He could see the
man's face now, and on it was a look of horror, mingled with new and
sudden hope.
The boy fish pointed to the valve in the outlet pipe, and made a motion
as though prying on a crowbar. He wanted to indicate that he needed
some sort of lever to work with.
Tom Rand understood at once, and slightly nodded his big head. Then he
stooped down and, after feeling about in the mud near his uncaught
foot, he picked up a short bar of iron.
Joe nodded to show that was what he wanted, and he moved as close as he
dared to where the lead-weighted foot was caught. Joe had to be careful
in two respects. He did not dare go too near the pipe, for a stream of
water was rushing through it and there was considerable suction, though
not as much as there would be when the valve was fully opened. And
Joe's feet, not being encased in big rubber boots, were small enough to
be drawn into the same hole where Rand's was caught.
The diver was standing with most of his weight on his left foot. It was
the right one that was caught, and this was thrust forward and outward,
at an angle of about forty-five degrees from the upright one. And it
was being caught in this peculiar position that had prevented the diver
from aiding himself.
He could not lean forward far enough to bring effective pressure on the
iron lever that had been lowered to him, or he might have pried his own
foot loose, or have opened the valve wide enough to enable him to
withdraw it.
"And he's been standing in that painful position for hours," thought
Joe, "trying to help himself and not being able to. No wonder he wanted
more air. He must be pretty nearly exhausted with the water pressure
and the horror of it all."
Joe himself was suffering from the weight of water and from the labor
of holding his breath. This labor was increased at the depth in which
he was. It was deeper than he had ever gone down before--five times as
deep as his glass tank in the circus.
Joe took the iron bar in both hands and worked himself as near to the
outlet pipe as he dared go.
One end of the bar was pointed, and Joe inserted this between the lead
sole of the diver's boot and pried cautiously. He was working as fast
as he could, and he realized that more than a minute of his precious
four--or, at best, four and a half--had passed. And he had only begun.
Could he stand it? Could he hold his breath long enough to make the
rescue?
"I will do it! I will!" Joe told himself down there under the water.
Several times he put all the weight he could bring to bear on the iron
bar, and Joe was well muscled. But the foot was still held fast. Joe
was afraid of using too much force for fear of making a hole in the
boot, or of causing the diving suit to leak. But the foot would not
stir.
Joe wished he had a longer bar, so he could get more leverage, but
there was no time to signal for one. Nor could Tom Rand help him by
pressing on the end. The diver could not lean forward far enough.
"I've got to do it all by myself," thought Joe grimly.
Again and again he pried with all the force he dared use. Something
tapped him on the shoulder. He looked around to see the diver beckoning
to him. Joe leaned back and saw, by the motions made by Rand's fingers,
that the diver was trying to tell him to pry on the valve itself.
Joe turned back to his work again. His heart was beating like a hammer
now. Every muscle ached with the strain and his head felt as if it
would burst. Joe knew he must have passed the four-minute period. How
much longer could he stay under?
Not long, he feared. He had about reached his limit in this depth of
water. He felt that he simply must let out a breath and draw in----
No! He couldn't do that. To breathe in now would mean slow suffocation.
He must hold out.
He put the pointed end of the iron lever in a crack in the valve. He
pressed with all his available strength. Nothing gave. Again Joe shoved
down. His head seemed to swim, and it was black before his eyes. Still
the imprisoned foot was caught.
Once more Joe pressed, and then, to his joy, he felt something give
way. So suddenly did it happen that the bar fell from his hand. Then
came a great rush of water. Joe had opened the valve so wide that the
water was flowing out in a great volume.
He felt himself being sucked forward. Desperately he forced himself
back. His foot, held under the root, seemed as if it would be torn from
his leg.
Then he felt great arms about him. He knew them to be those of the
diver. In the light of the electric lamp Joe saw the man pull his leg
loose, and then, while consciousness almost left Joe, he felt himself
being carried toward the surface.
The diver had been able to free himself when Joe opened the valve. In
an instant he had signaled to be pulled up, and as he shot toward the
surface, seeing Joe's great danger he had clasped him in his arms.
Together the rescuer and rescued were pulled up, and an instant later
Joe, who felt that he simply could not hold his breath another fraction
of a second, found himself in the air and gulped in great mouthfuls of
it. Oh, what a relief it was! For a moment, in the great need of it, he
forgot what he had done.
But others did not forget it, and no sooner was it seen that the diver,
alive, was out of the underwater trap, and that Joe, in his arms, had
also come up, than a great cheer was shouted forth.
Eager hands lifted Joe and the diver to the top of the dam, and while
some supported Joe, who was quite weak, others began to loosen the
diver's helmet, for, until this was done, it was necessary to pump air
to him.
Then a doctor, who had been in readiness to give aid in case the rescue
was made in time, came up to minister to both of those who seemed to
have come back from the edge of a watery grave.