Steadily the Dipsey worked her way northward, and as she moved on her
course her progress became somewhat slower than it had been at first.
This decrease in speed was due partially to extreme caution on the part
of Mr. Gibbs, the Master Electrician.
The attenuated cable, which continually stretched itself out behind the
little vessel, was of the most recent and improved pattern for deep-sea
cables. The conducting wires in the centre of it were scarcely thicker
than hairs, while the wires forming the surrounding envelope, although
they were so small as to make the whole cable not more than an eighth of
an inch in diameter, were far stronger than the thick submarine cables
which were used in the early days of ocean telegraphy. These outer wires
were made of the Swedish toughened steel fibre, and in 1939, with one of
them a little over a sixteenth of an inch in diameter, a freight-ship of
eleven thousand tons had been towed through the Great New Jersey Canal,
which had then just been opened, and which connected Philadelphia with
the ocean.
But notwithstanding his faith in the strength of the cable, Mr. Gibbs
felt more and more, the farther he progressed from the habitable world,
the importance of preserving it from accident. He had gone so far that
it would be a grievous thing to be obliged to turn back.
The Dipsey sailed at a much lower depth than when she had first started
upon her submarine way. After they had become accustomed to the feeling
of being surrounded by water, her inmates seemed to feel a greater
sense of security when they were well down below all possible disturbing
influence. When they looked forward in the line of the search-light, or
through any of the windows in various parts of the vessel, they never
saw anything but water--no fish, nothing floating. They were too far
below the ice above them to see it, and too far from what might be on
either side of them to catch a glimpse of it. The bottom was deep
below them, and it was as though they were moving through an aqueous
atmosphere.
They were comfortable, and beginning to be accustomed to their
surrounding circumstances. The air came in regularly and steadily
through the electric gills, and when deteriorated air had collected in
the expiration-chamber in the upper part of the vessel, it was forced
out by a great piston, which sent it by a hundred little valves into the
surrounding water. Thus the pure air came in and the refuse air went out
just as if the little Dipsey had been healthfully breathing as it pushed
its way through the depths.
Mrs. Block was gaining flesh. The narrow accommodations, the everlasting
electric light, the sameness of food, and a total absence of incident
had become quite natural to her, and she had ceased to depend upon the
companionship of the dust-brush and the almanac to carry her mind back
to what she considered the real things of life.
Sarah had something better now to take her mind back to Sardis and
the people and things on dry land. The engagement and probably early
marriage of Mr. Clewe and Mrs. Raleigh had made a great impression upon
her, and there were days when she never thought of the pole, so busy
was she in making plans based upon the future connection of the life of
herself and Sammy and that of Mr. and Mrs. Clewe.
Sammy and his wife had very good quarters within the boundaries of the
works, but Sarah had never been quite satisfied with them, and when
the new household of Clewe should be set up, and all the new domestic
arrangements should be made, she hoped for better things. Mr. Clewe's
little cottage would then be vacant, for of course he and his wife would
not live in such a place as that, and she thought that she and Sammy
should have it. Hour by hour and day by day she planned the furnishing,
the fitting, and the management of this cottage.
She was determined to have a servant, a woman thoroughly capable of
doing general house-work; and then there were times when she believed
that if Sammy should succeed in finding the pole his salary would be
increased, and they might be able to afford two servants. Over and over
again did she consider the question whether, in this latter case, these
women should both be general house-work servants, or one of them a
cook and the other a chamber-maid and laundress. There was much to be
considered on each side. In the latter case more efficient work could be
obtained; but in the former, in case one of them should suddenly leave,
or go away for a day out, the other could do all the work. It was very
pleasant to Mrs. Block to sit in a comfortable arm-chair and gaze thus
into the future. Sometimes she looked up into the water above, and
sometimes out into the water ahead, but she could see nothing. But in
the alluring expanse of her fancied future she could see anything which
she chose to put there.
Sammy, however, did not increase in flesh; in fact, he grew thinner.
Nothing important in regard to the Pole, Rovinski, had occurred, but of
course something would occur; otherwise why did the Pole come on board
the Dipsey? Endless conjectures as to what Rovinski would do when he did
anything, and when he would begin to do it, kept the good Samuel awake
during many hours when he should have been soundly sleeping. He had said
nothing yet to Mr. Gibbs in regard to the matter. Every day he made a
report to Roland Clewe about Rovinski, but Clewe's instructions were
that so long as the Pole behaved himself properly there was no reason to
trouble the minds of the party on board with fears of rascality on
his part. They had enough to occupy their minds without any disturbing
influence of that sort.
Clewe's own opinion on the subject was that Rovinski could do nothing
but act as a spy, and afterwards make dishonest use of the knowledge he
should acquire; but the man had put himself into Clewe's power, and
he could not possibly get away from him until he should return to Cape
Tariff, and even there it would be difficult. The proper and only thing
to do was to keep him in custody as long as possible. When he should be
brought back to a region of law and justice, it might be that the Pole
could be prevented, for a time, at least, from using the results of his
knavish observations.
There was another person on board whose mind was disturbed by Rovinski.
This was Mr. Marcy, the Assistant Engineer, an active, energetic fellow,
filled with ambition and love of adventure, and one of the most hopeful
and cheerful persons on board. He had never heard of Rovinski, and did
not know that there was anybody in the world who was trying to
benefit himself by fraudulent knowledge of Mr. Clewe's discoveries and
inventions, but he hated the Pole on his own account.
The man's countenance was so villainous that it was enough of itself to
arouse the dislike of a healthy-minded young fellow such as Marcy;
but, moreover, the Pole had habits of sneaking about the vessel, and
afterwards retiring to quiet corners, where he would scribble in
a pocket notebook. Such conduct as this in a man whose position
corresponded with that of a common seaman on an ordinary vessel, seemed
contrary to discipline and good conduct, and he mentioned the matter to
Mr. Gibbs.
“I suppose the man is writing a letter to his wife,” said the latter.
“You would not want to hinder him from doing that, would you?”
And to this no good answer could be made.
The Pole never took notes when Sammy was anywhere where he could see
him, and if Mr. Marcy had reported this conduct to the old man, it is
likely that Rovinski would speedily have been deprived of pencils and
paper, and his real character made known to the officers.
One day it was observed by those who looked out of the window in the
upper deck that the water above them was clearer than they usually
saw it, and when the electric lights in the room immediately under the
window were turned out it was almost possible to discern objects in
the room. Instantly there was a great stir on board the Dipsey, and
observations soon disclosed the fact that there was nothing above the
vessel but water and air.
At first, like an electric flash, the thought ran through the vessel
that they had reached the open sea which is supposed to surround the
pole, but reflection soon showed those who were cool enough to reflect
that if this were the case that sea must be much larger than they had
supposed, for they were still a long way from the pole. Upon one thing,
however, everybody was agreed: they must ascend without loss of time to
the surface of the water above them.
Up went the Dipsey, and it was not long before the great glass in the
upper deck admitted pure light from the outer world. Then the vessel
rose boldly and floated upon the surface of the open sea.
The hatchways were thrown open, and in a few moments nearly everybody
on board stood upon the upper deck, breathing the outer air and
gazing about them in the pure sunlight. The deck was almost flat, and
surrounded by a rail. The flooring was wet, and somewhat slippery, but
nobody thought of that; they thought of nothing but the wonderful place
in which they found themselves.
They were in a small lake surrounded by lofty and precipitous icebergs.
On every side these glittering crags rose high into the air; nowhere was
there a break or an opening. They seemed to be in a great icy prison. It
might be supposed that it would be exhilarating to a party who had long
been submerged beneath the sea to stand once more in the open air and in
the light of day; but this was not the case. The air they breathed was
sharp and cold, and cut into throats and lungs now accustomed to the
softer air within their vessel. Scarcely any of them, hurrying out of
the warm cabins, had thought of the necessity of heavy wraps, and
the bitter cold of the outer air perceptibly chilled their blood.
Involuntarily, even while they were staring about them, they hurried up
and down the deck to keep themselves warm.
The officers puzzled their brains over the peculiar formation of this
ice-encompassed lake. It seemed as if a great ice mountain had sunk down
from the midst of its companions, and had left this awful hole. This,
however, was impossible. No law of nature would account for such a
disappearance of an ice mountain. Mr. Gibbs thought, under some peculiar
circumstances, a mass of ice might have broken away and floated from
its surroundings, and that afterwards, increased in size, it had floated
back again, and, too large to re-enter the opening it had made, had
closed up the frozen walls of this lonely lake, accessible only to those
who should rise up into it from the sea. Suddenly Mrs. Block stopped.
“What is that?” she cried, pointing to a spot in the icy wall which was
nearest to the vessel. Instantly every eye was turned that way. They saw
a very distinct, irregular blotch, surrounded by almost transparent ice.
Several glasses were now levelled upon this spot, and it was discovered
to be the body of a polar bear, lying naturally upon its side, as if
asleep, and entirely incased in ice.
“It must have lain down to die, on the surface of the ice,” said Mr.
Gibbs, “and gradually the ice has formed above it, until it now rests in
that vast funeral casket.”
“How long since he laid down there to die, Mr. Gibbs?” asked Sarah,
as she took the glass from her eye. “He looks as natural as if he was
asleep.”
“I cannot say,” he answered. “It may have been hundreds, even thousands,
of years ago.”
“Oh, horrible!” said Sarah. “All that makes me shiver, and I am sure I
don't need anything to make me do that. I wish we would go down,
Sammy; I would like to get out of this awful place, with those dreadful
glitterin' walls that nobody could get up or over, and things lyin'
frozen for a thousand years; and, besides, it's so cold!”
It seemed as if Sarah's words had struck the key-note to the feelings
of the whole company. In the heart of every one arose a strong desire to
sink out of this cold, bleak, terrifying open air into the comfortable
motherly arms of the encircling waters. For a few minutes Captain Jim
Hubbell had experienced a sense of satisfaction at finding himself once
more upon the deck of a vessel floating upon the open sea. He felt that
he was in his element, and that the time had come for him to assume
his proper position as a sailor; but this feeling soon passed, and he
declared that his spine was like a long icicle.
“Don't you think we had better go down again?” said Sammy. “I think we
have all seen enough of this, and it isn't anything that any use can be
made of.”
“You are right,” said Mr. Gibbs; “let everybody go below.”
But it was not easy for everybody to obey this command. The wet decks
were now covered with a thin surface of ice, and those who had been
standing still for a few moments found it difficult to release their
shoes from the flooring of the deck, while several of the men slipped
down as they made their way to the forward hatch. As for Sarah Block,
she found it impossible to move at all. Her shoes were of a peculiar
kind, the soles being formed of thick felt, and these, having been
soaked with water, had frozen firmly to the deck. She tried to make a
step and almost fell over.
“Heavens and earth!” she screamed; “don't let this boat go down and
leave me standing outside!”
Her husband and two men tried to release her, but they could not
disengage her shoes from the deck; so Sammy was obliged to loosen her
shoe-strings, and then he and another man lifted her out of her shoes
and carried her to the hatchway, whence she very speedily hurried below.
Everybody was now inside the vessel, the hatches were tightly
closed, and the Dipsey began to sink. When she had descended to
the comparatively temperate depths of the sea, and her people found
themselves in her warm and well-lighted compartments, there was a
general disposition to go about and shake hands with each other. Some
of them even sang little snatches of songs, so relieved were they to get
down out of that horrible upper air.
“Of course I shall never see my shoes again,” said Mrs. Block; “and they
were mighty comfortable ones, too. I suppose, when they have been down
here awhile in this water, which must be almost lukewarmish compared to
what it is on top, they will melt loose and float up; and then, Sammy,
suppose they lodge on some of that ice and get frozen for a thousand
years! Good gracious! It sets me all of a creep to think of that
happenin' to my shoes, that I have been wearin' every day! Don't you
want a cup of tea?”
“It's a great pity,” thought Sammy to himself, “that it wasn't that Pole
that had his feet frozen to the deck. The rest of us might have been
lucky enough not to have noticed him as the boat went down.”
“We ought to get a name for that body of water up there,” said Mr.
Gibbs, as he was writing out his report of the day's adventures. “Shall
we call it 'Lake Clewe'?”
“Oh, don't do that!” exclaimed Sammy Block. “Mr. Clewe's too good a man
to have his name tacked on to that hole. If you want to name it, why
don't you call it 'Lake Shiver'?”
“That is a good name,” answered Mr. Gibbs; and so it was called.