OUT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH.
What the captain had said was true. The _Grampus_, cruising in those
great depths, had had the misfortune to hurl herself bodily on into an
ancient wreck.
The wreck, which must have lain for centuries there on the bottom, was
covered with marine growth, yet, nevertheless, seemed wonderfully well
preserved. The high bow and poop, covered with serpentlike lianes and
creeping weeds, were erect in the water, for the galleon lay on an even
keel. The ship’s two masts and steep bowsprit had been broken off, and
the decks were a litter of weeds, shells, and sand.
The _Grampus_, cleaving the heavy submarine growth, had flung her sharp
prow into the galleon’s side and was embedded almost to the flagstaff.
The captain and Bob descended silently into the periscope room.
“We jammed into an old wreck, did we?” queried Cassidy, calmly but with
a look on his face which reflected the perturbation of his mind.
“Yes,” answered Bob. “Some Spanish ship went down here--perhaps loaded
with treasure for across the sea.”
“Hardly loaded with treasure, Bob,” spoke up the captain. “This is
the Spanish Main, and the reefs off Honduras offered shelter for many
a pirate in the old days. This galleon, I am inclined to think, was
stripped of her treasure by some buccaneer, and sunk. It is too bad
that she was sunk in the course we happened to be taking.”
The rack of the useless motor ceased on an order from Bob; in the
deep, deathlike silence that intervened, a wail came up from the tank
room.
“Vat’s der madder mit us, Bob? Dit ve run indo a cave in der ocean? If
ve can’t ged oudt, vat vill pecome of us?”
“We ran into an old Spanish ship, Carl,” answered Bob, “and we are so
jammed in the side of the hulk that we haven’t been able, so far, to
back out.”
“Meppy ve von’t nefer be aple to pack oudt! Meppy ve vas down here for
keeps, hey? Nexdt dime I go down in some supmarines, you bed your life
I make a vill before I shtart.”
Carl, white as a sheet and scared, came rolling into the periscope
room. Dick likewise showed up from forward.
“Well, here we are!” said he; “I hadn’t any notion this was to be our
last cruise.”
“It’s not,” answered Bob. “We’ll get out of this.”
He turned to Captain Nemo, junior, who was again seated quietly, his
calm eyes on Steele.
“The power of the screw, unaided, will not serve to get us clear of the
wreck,” said the captain. “What are you going to do, Bob?”
Bob thought for a moment. “Am I to have my way, captain?” he asked.
“Certainly. I want to see what you can do.”
“Speake! Gaines! Clackett!” called Bob. “Come up here, at once.”
From the engine room, the torpedo room, and the ballast room came the
rest of the submarine’s crew. Their faces were gray with anxiety, but
they were men of pluck and determination, and could be depended on to
fight for life until the very last.
“Men,” said Bob, “we have rammed an old hulk that has been lying for
centuries in the bottom of St. George’s Bay. The nose of the _Grampus_
is caught and held in the wreck’s side, and the full power of the
engine is not sufficient to pull us out. We shall have to try something
else--something that will put a great strain on the steel shell of the
submarine, considering the pressure the boat is under at this enormous
depth. I am going to give some orders, and on the swiftness with which
they are carried out our lives may depend. You will all go back to your
stations, Carl with Clackett and Dick with Gaines; and when I shout the
word ‘Ready!’ the engine will be started with all power astern. At the
same instant, Clackett and Carl will open the pipes and admit air into
the ballast tanks, and open the valves that let out the water. We may
have to do all this several times, if necessary, but you fellows have
got to be prompt in doing what you are told.”
Admiration was again reflected in Captain Nemo’s pale face. Leaning
back against the steel wall of the periscope room, he settled himself
quietly to await developments.
“Count on me,” said Clackett, as he and Carl disappeared.
“And on us,” said Gaines, leaving the periscope room with Dick.
Cassidy merely gave a nod and turned to his steering wheel. Bob went up
into the tower and placed himself at one of the lunettes. His heart was
beating against his ribs with trip-hammer blows, but his brain was cool
and clear. When he had given the crew sufficient time to gain their
stations, he lifted his voice loudly.
“Ready!”
The word rang through the periscope room and echoed clatteringly
through the steel hull.
The propeller began to whirl like mad, and the sudden opening of the
ballast tanks depressed the free rear portion of the submarine.
For a full minute the wild struggle went on, and so shaken was the boat
that it seemed as though she must fly in pieces. Then, abruptly, the
_Grampus_ leaped backward and upward, clearing the forestlike growth of
seaweed at a gigantic bound.
The upward motion was felt by every one in the boat, and cries of
exultation came to Bob’s ears in clamoring echoes.
Slipping like lightning down the ladder, he shouted to Gaines to stop
the madly working engine and reverse it at a more leisurely speed.
Like a huge air bubble, the _Grampus_ swung up and up, and when she
emerged above the surface, and Bob could see sunlight through the
dripping lunettes, he turned off the electric projector, opened the
hatch and threw it back, and gulped down deep breaths of the warm,
fresh air.
Once more slipping down the ladder, he saluted the captain.
“I turn the ship over to you, sir,” said he, and collapsed on a stool,
mopping the perspiration from his face.
“You’re a brick!” grunted Cassidy, picking up the course for Belize.
“Hooray for Bob!” came a thrilling shout from somewhere in the bowels
of the craft. For an instant, the steel walls echoed with the jubilant
yells of Carl, Dick, Gaines, Speake, and Clackett.
“It came near to taking the ginger all out of me, captain,” breathed
Bob. “The novelty of the thing was mighty trying.”
Captain Nemo, junior, still strangely pale, was regarding the youth
fixedly. For some moments after the cheering ceased he said nothing;
then, leaning abruptly forward, he caught Bob’s hand. The captain’s
own hand was as cold as ice.
“Captain!” the young fellow exclaimed, starting up, “there’s something
wrong with you! Do you feel faint or----”
The captain waved his hand deprecatingly, and the calm, inscrutable
smile hovered about his thin lips.
“Let that pass for a moment, my lad,” said he. “I was testing the
_Grampus_, but, more than that, I was likewise testing you. Since we
picked up Carl and Dick, off the _Dolphin_, and before that, while
we were cruising about trying to find them, you have been serving
your apprenticeship on the submarine. I have always had the utmost
confidence in you, Bob Steele, and I have now, I think, tested your
knowledge of the _Grampus_ in a manner which leaves no room for
doubt. You are able to run the boat, and to extricate her from any
difficulties in which she might become entangled, as well, if not
better, than I could do myself.”
Bob, from the captain’s manner, had suspected that the gray-haired
inventor of the craft had tried to bring out all that was in him.
Captain Nemo, junior, of course, had not been able to forecast the
trouble that was to overtake the submarine in the bottom of the
bay, but this dangerous experience had served only to show Bob’s
resourcefulness to better advantage.
“You are cool-headed in time of danger,” proceeded the captain, “and,
no matter what goes wrong, your ability is always on tap and can be
brought to bear instantly upon anything you desire to accomplish.”
The red ran into Bob’s face, and he waved a hand deprecatingly.
“I’m not a particle better than a lot of other fellows,” said he, “who
try to use their eyes and hands and brains.”
“I expected you to say that, Bob,” continued the captain. “The test,
in your case, was hardly necessary, for I have watched your work in
a lot of trying situations--and it has always been the same, steady,
resourceful, reliable. Just now, we are going to Belize, British
Honduras, to carry out some work for our government. As I have already
told you, I don’t know what that work is. Two sealed envelopes were
given me by Captain Wynekoop of the U. S. cruiser _Seminole_. The first
one told us to proceed to Belize. The next one, which I have here in my
pocket, will instruct you relative to the work in prospect, and----”
“Instruct _me?_” broke in Bob startled.
The captain nodded.
“I have not recovered from the strange illness which overtook me in
New Orleans, as a result of inhaling the poisonous odor given off by
the head of that idol. I feel that another attack is coming upon me--I
have felt it for several hours--and, inasmuch as the government is
watching the work of the _Grampus_ with the intention of buying her at
a good round price if she makes good, our sealed orders must be carried
out. For this work, Bob, you are my choice; you are to command the
_Grampus_, do everything that you think--that you think----”
Captain Nemo, junior, paused, struggled with the words for a space,
then drooped slowly forward and fell from his seat to the floor of the
room. There he lay, unconscious, and breathing heavily.