THRILLING EXPERIENCE.
Early in the morning they went to Amsterdam, or Amsteldamme, as the
Germans call it, because it controls the tides of the Amstel River.
The city of Amsteldamme is situated on a marsh, and all its houses and
buildings are erected on piles, which are driven from forty to fifty feet
into the earth.
"How many canals!" was Eric's first remark, when he obtained a good view
of the city.
"Yes," said Mr. Lacelle. "When I was a boy, I counted the bridges across
the canals, and there were two hundred and fifty. The city is divided by
the canals into ninety islands. Those high walls were once ramparts, but
have since been converted into public walks. They are planted with trees,
and make excellent promenades."
"But suppose there should be another war," said Eric; "what would their
defence be?"
"They could easily flood the surrounding country."
"What splendid streets these are!" said Eric, as they passed through one
and another with rows of beautiful shade trees, handsome little stone
bridges, broad, clean pavements, and long lines of elegant mansions.
They were indeed very beautiful streets, not easily to be surpassed in all
Europe.
"I should think," said Eric, thoughtfully, "that there would be danger to
the people here in having so much water in their town. Do the dikes ever
give way?"
"Very seldom. The people watch them very faithfully, and whenever a break
is discovered it is instantly repaired. There is a very interesting story
connected with the dikes of Holland, which I will tell you, to show you
what great service a little boy did his country.
"The little hero, Peter Daik, was on his way home, one night, from a
village to which he had been sent by his father on an errand, when he
noticed the water trickling through a narrow opening in the dike, built up
to keep out the sea.
"He stopped, and thought of what would happen if the hole were not
closed.
"He knew--for he had often heard his father tell of the sad disasters
which had come from small beginnings--how, in a few hours, the opening
would become bigger, and let in the mighty mass of water pressing on the
dike, until, the whole defence being washed away, the rolling, dashing,
angry sea would sweep on to the next village, destroying life and
property, and everything in its way. Should he run home and alarm the
villagers? It would be dark before they could arrive; and the hole, even
then, might be so large as to defy all attempts to close it. What could he
do to prevent such terrible ruin--he, only a little boy?
"I will tell what he did. He sat down on the bank of the canal, stopped
the opening with his hand, and patiently awaited the passing of a
villager. But no one came.
"Hour after hour rolled slowly by; yet there sat the heroic boy in the
cold and darkness, shivering, wet, and tired, but stoutly pressing his
hand against the water that tried to pass the dangerous breach.
"All night he staid at his post. At last morning broke, when a clergyman,
walking up the canal, heard a groan, and looking around to see where it
came from, seeing the boy, and surprised at his strange position,
exclaimed with astonishment,--
"'Why are you there, my child?'
"'I am keeping back the water, sir, and saving the village from being
drowned,' answered little Peter, with lips so benumbed with cold that he
could hardly speak.
"The astonished minister at once relieved him of his hard duty, and the
poor little fellow had but just strength enough left to alarm the
villagers, who flocked to the dike, and repaired the breach.
"Heroic boy! What a noble spirit of self-devotion he had shown! resolving
to brave all the fatigue, the danger, the cold and darkness, rather than
permit the ruin which would come if he deserted his post.
"There is a beautiful poem on the subject by Miss Carey. I will repeat a
few of the last verses."
Then Mr. Lacelle repeated in a clear, mellow voice, whose slight foreign
accent lent it an additional charm to Eric's ear,--
"So faintly calling and crying
Till the sun is under the sea,--
Crying and moaning till the stars
Come out for company.
He thinks of his brother and sister,
Asleep in their safe, warm bed;
He thinks of his father and mother;
Of himself as dying--and dead;
And of how, when the night is over,
They must come and find him at last;
But he never thinks he can leave the place
Where duty holds him fast.
"The good dame in the cottage
Is up and astir with the light,
For the thought of her little Peter
Has been with her all the night.
And now she watches the pathway,
As yestereve she had done;
But what does she see so strange and black
Against the rising sun?
Her neighbors are bearing between them
Something straight to her door;
Her child is coming home, but not
As ever he came before.
"'He is dead!' she cries; 'my darling!'
And the startled father hears,
And comes and looks the way she looks,
And fears the thing she fears;
Till a glad shout from the bearers
Thrills the stricken man and wife--
'Give thanks, for your son has saved our land,
And God has saved his life!'
So there in the morning sunshine
They knelt about the boy,
And every head was bared and bent
In tearful, reverent joy.
"'Tis many a day since then; but still,
When the sea roars like a flood,
Their boys are taught what a boy can do
Who is brave, and true, and good;
For every man in that country
Takes his son by the hand,
And tells him of little Peter,
Whose courage saved the land.
They have many a valiant hero
Remembered through the years,
But never one whose name so oft
Is named with loving tears.
And his deed shall be sung by the cradle,
And told to the child on the knee,
So long as the dikes of Holland
Divide the land from the sea."
They had now come to the Y, an inlet of the Zuyder Zee, where several of
the men under Mr. Lacelle were at work.
"Here we are," said Eric, gladly. "Here we are! Now for my 'thrilling
experience,' as the newspapers say."
There was a tent close by, into which they stepped to change their dress
for the diver's costume.
"Nobody would know me now, I am sure," said Eric to himself, when, with
much difficulty, and considerable help from the attendants, he emerged
from the tent arrayed in the suit. "I can hardly drag my feet along, they
are so heavy; and I'm decidedly glad that my every-day hat is not like
this helmet."
Mr. Lacelle had given him particular directions about diving, and now the
life-line and air-hose were adjusted, and the brave boy stood beside the
professional diver, waiting for the descent.
The signal was given, and soon Eric was going down underneath the blue,
cold waves. He could not see Mr. Lacelle; it seemed as if he were never to
stop going down: the water sang around his ears; and seeing nothing but
water made him giddy and faint. He thought he must certainly smother, and,
for an instant, was thoroughly afraid.
Then he remembered that, at a single touch of the life-line, the men above
would instantly draw him up, and, feeling quite at his ease again, began
to look about him. To his great joy he saw the bottom, and was presently
upon it, and walking towards Mr. Lacelle.
Suddenly a sound like heavy peals of thunder reverberated through the
water. At a motion from Mr. Lacelle, Eric looked quickly upward, and saw a
school of tiny fish, darting with great velocity towards them, and several
large fishes in pursuit of the little ones.
On they came, straight towards Eric and Mr. Lacelle; but just before
reaching them, they turned sharply off in the opposite direction; as they
turned, the noise increased to a heavy peal, and ceased as they passed
from sight.
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Eric, involuntarily; and his voice sounded like
roaring and screaming, though he had spoken quite softly.
Mr. Lacelle then held at arm's length a small cartridge, which he
signalled, by the lines, for the men above to ignite. Almost instantly it
exploded. Eric was perfectly astounded by the effects of the report.
It seemed as if huge rocks had fallen upon his helmet; and such a
crashing, rending sound as accompanied the shock! It was quite as much as
he was able to bear in the way of noise. Mr. Lacelle told him afterwards,
that the noise of the report in the air would be no louder than that of a
common fire-cracker.
Eric hoped that Mr. Lacelle would make no more experiments in sound, and
the diver did not seem at all anxious to do so.
It was rather awe-inspiring, Eric thought, to be walking easily about at
the bottom of the sea, knowing that around and above him lay the mighty
element of death. And there, under the water, the eighth psalm came into
his mind, and he realized its beauty as he had never been able to before.
He walked around, picking up shells and curious plants, and being careful
to keep near Mr. Lacelle, who was making some calculations about the
building of a huge bridge, contemplated by the king. Several large fish
swam lazily up to Eric, eyed him curiously, and let themselves be patted
upon the back.
"How amused Nettie would be!" he thought, and wished the huge fish were
less inquisitive, as he did not particularly fancy them. He was quite
interested in the flowers, which were as brilliant and beautiful as any
upon the land, when suddenly he discovered a heap of shells quite similar
to those which Mr. Lacelle had described the day before. He put several
handfuls of them into his diver's basket, and then, moving off a few
steps, he watched to see what they would do.
When all was quiet, they moved slowly at first, then more rapidly, and all
crawled away in the same direction.
"That is very curious," thought Eric to himself. "I wish I knew what they
are."
When he moved again, something struck his foot. Looking quickly down
through the window in his helmet, he saw a small, square box, made of tin,
and fastened with a padlock. A key was in the lock, and Eric turned it and
opened the box, wondering what it could contain. The lid flew back, and
disclosed an inner cover, on which was painted a coat of arms, with the
name "Arthur Montgomery" engraved beneath. A spring was visible, and,
pressing it, Eric disclosed to his astonished vision a number of English
sovereigns--gold coins worth about five dollars apiece.
His first impulse was to show the prize to Mr. Lacelle, but he could not
readily attract his attention. So, putting the box in his basket after
safely locking it, he busied himself with gathering the beautiful flowers
within his reach, and storing them in his basket to press for his mother.
Suddenly he felt himself being drawn up slowly towards the surface, and,
turning his head, saw that Mr. Lacelle was also ascending.
He knew that they were being drawn up because Mr. Lacelle wished him to
catch the return train to Gravenhaag, and had cautioned the men at the
pumps not to let them remain under water more than half an hour; but he
was extremely surprised to find that the time had passed.
On reaching "terra firma," so much hurrying had to be done in changing his
armor for more convenient land apparel, that he entirely forgot the box of
money until seated beside Mr. Lacelle in the carriage. Then he showed it
to him.
"That _was_ a find, for so young a submarinist," said Mr. Lacelle. "It is
yours, my boy; divers consider themselves entitled to all such
unexpectedly discovered valuables."
"But," said Eric, eagerly, "the owner's name is upon the box; and see!
here is a letter addressed to 'Arthur Montgomery, Bart., Clone, Lancaster
County, England.' I think I ought to return it."
"Yes," said Mr. Lacelle, pleased with Eric's honesty, "conscientiously you
ought; but you are not obliged to by law."
"I would much rather," said Eric, earnestly. "Will you please to inquire
about it, and see that it reaches the owner?" Mr. Lacelle promised, and,
seeing Eric safely aboard the cars, bade him good by, and left for
Amsteldamme.