THE SUBMARINE TERROR.
Captain Savage at once came to the rail, and was soon busily engaged in
looking at the wonderful creature which Homer Woddle declared had sunk
the ship in which he had been sailing.
The crew were much agitated, for seamen are at all times superstitious,
and, never having heard of such a strange monster, they fancied its
appearance boded no good.
The monster, which had been perfectly inert up to this time, threw out a
marvelous light, which illuminated the depths of the sea.
The magnificent irradiation was evidently the result of electricity, and
it revealed the shape of the strange fish, if fish it was, very
distinctly.
Its form was what we may call a lengthened oval, tapering off at the
head and tail, which were under the water, only part of the scaly back
being exposed to the air.
Dr. Woddle called the captain.
"Sir," he said, "the monster is again close to us. I ask you, in the
interest of science, to capture it."
"Who's going to do it, and how is it to be done?" said Captain Savage.
"This thing is a scourge of the ocean. It destroys ships, therefore it
is your duty to destroy it," persisted the man of science.
"We will harpoon it, if you like, though I do not know why I should risk
the lives of my crew. Where's Bowline? Pass the word for Bowline," said
the captain.
When Bill Bowline made his appearance he was trembling like a leaf.
"Get your harpoon, my man," said the captain.
"Not me, sir," said the sailor firmly. "I wouldn't harm a scale of the
critter's back, were it ever so near. We shall all be sent to the bottom
of the sea if I do."
Turning to Homer Woddle, the captain said:
"You see the feeling of my men; what can I do?"
"I'll do it myself," said the man of science grandly. "If no one will
attack this monster, the honor and the glory of the task shall belong to
me. Give me a boat and loaded guns. It will be hard, indeed, if I cannot
put a bullet in him, and lay the mighty brute low. Who will volunteer
for this splendid task?"
There was no response.
"What! Are you all cowards? Will no one volunteer?" continued the man of
science scornfully.
Mont stepped forward.
"I'm with you, sir!" he exclaimed. "Can't stand by and see a gentleman
left alone. I'm not afraid of the creature."
Carl, as a matter of course, took his place by our hero's side, and so
did Stump.
Where Mont went his devoted friend and equally attached follower felt
bound to go as a matter of duty.
"Three of you. Bravo!" cried the scientist. "Now, we are four, and we
shall triumph. Lower a boat, if you please."
The order was given to put the ship about, and a spot favorable for the
enterprise being selected near the monster, a boat was lowered, into
which the volunteers descended.
Carl and Stump took the oars, Mont grasped the tiller, and Dr. Woddle
stood in the bows with a loaded gun under each arm.
"My four troublesome customers," said the captain, in a low tone to the
first mate, "stand a very good chance of never returning."
"It will be a cheap way to get rid of them, although it may cost us the
boat," said the mate in the same tone.
"Steady, my lads," said the scientist. "Easy all; keep the head before
the wind, Mr. Folsom, if you please."
"Steady she is," answered Mont.
The boat stopped at a short distance from the monster, and Homer Woddle
stood up, placed a gun to his shoulder, and fired.
The ball struck the huge slumbering beast, but glided off its back as if
it had struck a piece of polished steel.
"Hard as the hide of a rhinoceros," said the man of science; "we must
try again. Steady, boys."
The monster, however, did not seem to approve of being shot at, and
seemed to tremble violently for a moment.
Then with incredible velocity it darted past the rowboat, which was
upset in a moment, and proceeded to strike the ship.
It struck the unfortunate vessel a terrific blow directly back of the
bow.
The crash was distinctly audible, and amid the noise of falling masts
and flapping sails were heard the cries of the sailors and the moans of
the dying.
After the concussion the monster retired as it had come.
A cloud obscured the surface of the ocean, and it was difficult to tell
where it had gone, or what had become of the ship.
Mont found himself struggling in the sea, and wondered what had become
of his companions.
"Hang those monsters of the deep," he said to himself; "I don't like
them."
Swimming gently, he got hold of one of the oars of the boat, and so kept
himself afloat without much exertion.
It was not a hopeful position to be in.
Struggling alone in the middle of a vast ocean, ignorant of the fate of
his companions, and doubtful of succor, it was not to be wondered at if
he felt inclined to despair.
Would he sink or swim? The question was, just then, a hard one to
answer.