When the diver received the encouraging pat on the head, as already
related, he descended the ladder to its lowest round. Here, being a few
feet below the surface, the buoyancy of the water relieved him of much
of the oppression caused by the great weights with which he was loaded.
He was in a semi-floating condition, hence the ladder, being no longer
necessary, was made to terminate at that point. He let go his hold of
it and sank gently to the bottom, regulating his pace by a rope which
descended from the foot of the ladder to the mud, on which in a few
seconds his leaden soles softly rested. A continuous stream of
air-bubbles from the safety-valve behind the helmet indicated to those
above that the pumps were doing their duty, and at the same time hid the
diver entirely from their sight.
Meanwhile the two men who acted as signalman and assistant stood near
the head of the ladder, the first holding the life-line, the assistant
the coil of air-tubing. Their duty was to stand by and pay out or haul
in tubing and line according as the diver's movements and necessities
should require. They were to attend also to his signals--some of which
were transmitted by the line and some by the air-tube. These signals
vary among divers. With Baldwin and his party one pull on the
_life-line_ meant "All right;" four pulls, "I'm coming up." One pull on
the air-pipe signified "Sufficient air;" two pulls, "More air." (pump
faster.) Four pulls was an alarm, and signified "Haul me up." The
aspect of Rooney Machowl's face when endeavouring to understand
Baldwin's explanation of these signals was a sight worth seeing!
But to return to our diver. On reaching the bottom, Maxwell took a coil
of small line which hung on his left arm, and attached one end of it to
a stone or sinker which kept taut the ladder-line by which he had
descended. This was his clew to guide him back to the ladder. Not only
is the light under water very dim--varying of course, according to
depth, until total darkness ensues--but a diver's vision is much
weakened by the muddy state of the water at river-mouths and in
harbours, so that he is usually obliged to depend more on feeling than
on sight. If he were to leave the foot of his ladder without the
guiding-coil, it would be difficult if not impossible to find it again,
and his only resource would be to signal "Haul me up," which would be
undignified, to say the least of it! By means of this coil he can
wander about at will--within the limits of his air-tube tether of
course,--and be certain to find his way back to the ladder-foot in the
darkest or muddiest water.
Having fastened the line, the diver walked in the direction of the rock
on which he had to operate, dropping gradually the coils of the
guiding-line as he proceeded. His progress was very slow, for water is
a dense medium, and man's form is not well adapted for walking in it--as
every bather knows who has attempted to walk when up to his neck in it.
He soon found the object of his search, and went down on his knees
beside the hole already driven into the rock. Even this process of
going on his knees was not so simple as it sounds, for the men above
were sending down more air than could escape by the valve behind the
helmet, and thus were filling his dress to such an extent that he had a
tendency to rise off the ground despite his weights. To counteract this
he opened the valve in front, let out the superabundant air, got on his
knees, and was soon busy at work inserting the charge-tube into the hole
and tamping it well home, taking care that the fine wire with which it
communicated with the party in the barge should not be injured.
While thus engaged he was watched, apparently with deep interest, by a
small crab, a shrimp, and several little fish of various kinds, all of
which we may add, seemed to have various degrees of curiosity. One
particular little fish, named a goby, and celebrated for its wide-awake
nature and impudence, actually came to the front-glass of the helmet and
looked in. But the diver was too busy to pay attention to it. Nothing
abashed, the goby went to each of the side-windows, but, receiving no
encouragement, it made for a convenient ledge of the rock, where,
resting its fore-fins on a barnacle, it turned its head a little on one
side and looked on in silence. Finding this rather tedious, after a
time it went, with much of the spirit of a London street-boy, and,
passing close to the shrimp, tweaked the end of one of its feelers,
causing that volatile creature to vanish. It then made a demonstration
of attack on the crab, but that crustaceous worthy, sitting up on its
hind-legs and expanding both claws with a very "come-on-if-you-dare"
aspect, bid it defiance.
Meanwhile the charge was laid, and Maxwell rose to return to the world
above. Feeling a certain uncomfortable hotness in the air he breathed,
and observing that his legs were remarkably thin, and that his dress was
clasped somewhat too lovingly about his person, he became aware of the
fact that, having neglected to reclose the front-valve, his supply of
air was now insufficient. He therefore shut the valve and began to wend
his way back to the ladder. By the time he reached it the air in his
dress had swelled him out to aldermanic dimensions, so that he pulled
himself up the ladder-rope, hand over hand, with the utmost ease--having
previously given four pulls on his life-line to signal "coming up." A
few seconds more and his head was seen to emerge from the surface, like
some goggle-eyed monster of the briny deep.
A comrade at once advanced and unscrewed his front-glass, and then, but
not till then, did the men at the pumps cease their labours.
"All right," said Maxwell, stepping over the side and seating himself on
his plank.
"Stand by," said Baldwin.
The two satellites did not require that order, for they were already
standing by with a small electrical machine. The wire before mentioned
as being connected with the charge of powder, now safely lodged in the
hole at the bottom of the sea, was connected with the electrical
machine, and a few vigorous turns of its handle were given, while every
eye was turned expectantly on the surface of the sea.
That magic spark which now circles round the world, annihilating time
and space, was evolved; it flashed down the wire; the ocean could not
put it out; the dry powder received it; the massive rock burst into
fragments; a decided shock was felt on board the barge, and a turmoil of
gas-bubbles and dead or dying fish came to the surface, in the midst of
which turmoil the shrimp, the crab, and the goby doubtless came to an
untimely end.
Thus was cleared out of the way an obstruction which had from time
immemorial been a serious inconvenience to that port; and thus every
year serious inconveniences and obstructions that most people know very
little about are cleared out of the way by our bold, steady, and daring
divers, through the wisdom and the wonderful appliances of our submarine
engineers.
"Now then, Rooney, come an' we'll dress you," said Baldwin. "As you're
goin' to be a professional diver it's right that you should have the
first chance and set a good example to Mister Berrington here, who's
only what we may call an amateur."
"Faix, I'd rather that Mister Berrington shud go first," said Rooney,
who, as he spoke, however, stripped himself of his coat, vest, and
trousers preparatory to putting on the costume.
"I'll be glad to go first, Rooney, if you're afraid," said Edgar.
Rooney's annoyance at being thought afraid was increased to indignation
by a contemptuous guffaw from Maxwell.
Flushing deeply and casting a glance of anger at Maxwell, the young
Irishman crushed down his feelings and said--
"Sure, I'm only jokin'. Put on the dress Mister Baldwin av ye plaze."
A diver, like a too high-bred lady, cannot well dress himself. He
requires two assistants. Rooney Machowl sat down on the plank beside
Maxwell, who was busy taking off his dress, and acted according to
orders.
First of all they brought him a thick guernsey shirt, a pair of drawers
and pair of _inside_ stockings, which he put on and fastened securely.
Sometimes a "crinoline" to afford protection to the stomach in deep
water is put on, but on the present occasion it was omitted, the water
being shallow. Then Baldwin put on him a "shoulder-pad" to bear the
weight of the helmet, etcetera, and prevent chafing.
"If it was cold, Rooney," said his instructor, "I'd put two guernseys
and pairs of drawers and stockin's on you, but, as it's warm, one set'll
do. Moreover, if you was goin' deep you'd have the option of stuffin'
your ears with cotton soaked in oil, to relieve the pressure; some do
an' some don't. I never do myself. It's said to relieve the pressure
of air on the ears, but my ears are strong. Anyway you won't want it in
this water.--Now for the dress, boys."
The two assistants--with mouths expanded from ear to ear--here advanced
with the strong india-rubber garment whose legs, feet, body, and arms
are, as we have already said, all in one piece. Pushing his feet in at
the upper opening, Rooney writhed, thrust, and wriggled himself into it,
being ably assisted by his attendants, who held open the sleeves for him
and expanded the tight elastic cuffs, and, catching the dress at the
neck, hitched it upwards so powerfully as almost to lift their patient
off his legs. Next, came a pair of _outside_ stockings and canvas
overalls or short trousers, both of which were meant to preserve the
dress-proper from injury. Having been got into all these things, Rooney
was allowed to sit down while his attendants each put on and buckled a
boot with leaden soles--each boot weighing about twenty pounds.
"A purty pair of dancin' pumps!" remarked Rooney, turning out his toes,
while Baldwin put on his breast-plate, after having drawn up the inner
collar of the dress and tied it round his neck with a piece of spare
yarn.
The breast-plate was made of tinned copper. It covered part of the
back, breast, and shoulders of the diver, and had a circular neck, to
which the helmet was to be ultimately screwed. It rested on the _inner_
collar of the dress, and the _outer_ collar--of stout india-rubber--was
drawn over it. In this outer collar were twelve holes, corresponding to
twelve screws round the edge of the breast-plate. When these holes had
been fitted over their respective screws, a breast-plate-band, in four
pieces, was placed over them and screwed tight by means of nuts--thus
rendering the connection between the dress and the breast-plate
perfectly water-tight. It now only remained to screw the helmet to the
circular neck of the breast-plate. Previously, however, a woollen
night-cap was drawn over the poor man's head, well down on his ears, and
Rooney looked--as indeed he afterwards admitted that he felt--as if he
were going to be hanged. He thought, however, of the proverb, that a
man who is born to be drowned never can be hanged, and somehow felt
comforted.
The diving helmet is made of tinned copper, and much too large for the
largest human head, in order that the wearer may have room to move his
head freely about inside of it. It should not touch the head in any
part, but is fixed rigidly to the breast-plate, resting on the
shoulders, and does not partake of the motions of the head. In it are
three round openings filled with the thickest plate-glass and protected
by brass bars or guards; also an outlet-valve to allow the foul air to
escape; a short metal tube with an inlet-valve, to which the air-pump is
screwed; and a regulating cock for getting rid of excess of air. The
arrangement is such, that the fresh air enters, and is spread over the
front of the diver's face, while the foul escapes at the back of his
head. By a clever contrivance--a segmental screw--the helmet can be
fixed to its neck with one-eighth of a turn, instead of having to be
twisted round several times. To various hooks and studs on the helmet
and breast-plate are hung two leaden masses weighing about forty pounds
each.
These weights having been attached, and a waist-belt with a knife in it
put round Rooney's waist, along with the life-line, the air-tube was
affixed, and he was asked by Baldwin how he felt.
"A trifle heavy," replied the pupil, through the front hole of the
helmet, which was not yet closed.
"That feeling will go off entirely when you're under water," said
Baldwin. "Now, remember, if you want more air, just give two pulls on
the air-pipe--an' don't pull as if you was tryin' to haul down the
barge; we'll be sure to feel you. Be gentle and quiet, whatever ye do.
Gettin' flurried never does any good whatever. D'ee hear?"
"Yis, sur," answered Rooney, and his voice sounded metallic and hollow,
even to those outside--much more so to himself!
"Well, then, if we give you too much air, you've only got to open the
front-valve--so, and, when you're easy, shut it. When you get down to
the bottom, give one--only one--pull on the life-line, which means `All
right,' and I'll give one pull in reply. We must always reply to each
other, d'ee see? because if you don't answer, of course we'll think
you've been suffocated, or entangled at the bottom among wreckage and
what-not, or been took with a fit, an' we'll haul you up, as hard as we
can; so you'll have to be particular. D'ee understand?"
Again the learner replied "Yis, sur," but less confidently than before,
for Baldwin's cautions, although meant to have an encouraging effect,
proved rather to be alarming.
"Now," continued the teacher, leading his pupil to the side of the
barge, "be sure to go down slow, and come up slow. Whatever you do, do
it slow, for if you do it fast--especially in comin' up--you'll come to
grief. If a man comes up too fast from deep water, the condensed air
inside of him is apt to swell him out, and the brain bein' relieved too
suddenly from the pressure, there's a rush of blood to it, and a singin'
in the ears, and a pain in the head, with other unpleasant symptoms.
Why," continued Baldwin, growing energetic, "I've actually known a man
killed outright by bein' pulled up too quick from a depth of twenty
fathoms. So mark my words, lad, and take it easy. If you get nervous,
just stop a bit an' amuse yourself with thinkin' over what I've told
you, and then go on with your descent."
At this point Rooney's heart almost failed him, but, catching sight of
Maxwell's half-amused, half-contemptuous face, he stepped resolutely on
the ladder, and began to descend in haste.
"Hold on!" roared Baldwin, laying hold of the life-line. "Why, man
alive, you're off without the front-glass!"
"Och! Whirra! So I am," said Rooney, pausing.
"Pump away, lads," cried Baldwin, looking back at his assistants.
"Whist! What's that?" asked the pupil excitedly, as a hissing sound
buzzed round his head.
"Why, that's the air coming in. Now then, I'll screw on the glass. Are
you all right?"
"All right," replied Rooney, telling, as he said himself afterwards,
"one of the biggist lies he iver towld in his life!"
The glass was screwed on, and the learner was effectually cut off from
all connection with the outer air, save through the slight medium of an
india-rubber pipe.
Having thus screwed him up--or in--Baldwin gave him the patronising pat
on the helmet, as a signal for him to descend, but Rooney stood tightly
fixed to the ladder, and motionless.
Again Baldwin patted his head encouragingly, but still Rooney stood as
motionless as one of the iron-clad warriors in the Tower of London. The
fact was, his courage had totally failed him. He was ashamed to come
up, and could not by any effort of will force himself to go down.
"Why, what's wrong?" demanded Baldwin, looking in at the glass, which,
however, was so clouded with the inmate's breath that he could only be
seen dimly. It was evident that Rooney was speaking in an excited
voice, but no sound was audible through that impervious mass of metal
and glass. Baldwin was therefore about to unscrew the mouth-glass, when
accident brought about what Rooney's will could not accomplish. In
attempting to move, the poor pupil missed his hold, or slipped somehow,
and fell into the sea with a sounding splash.
"Let him go, boys--gently, or he'll break everything. A dip'll do him
no harm," cried Baldwin to the alarmed assistants.
The men let the life-line and air-tube slip, until the rushing descent
was somewhat abated, and then, checking the involuntary diver, they
hauled him slowly to the surface, where his arms and open palms went
swaying wildly round until they came in contact with the ladder, on
which they fastened with a grip that was sufficient to have squeezed the
life out of a gorilla.
In a few seconds he ascended a step, and his head emerged, then another
step, and Baldwin was able to unscrew the glass.
The first word that the poor man uttered through his porthole was "Och!"
the next, "Musha!"
A burst of laughter from his friends above somewhat reassured him, and
again the tinge of contempt in Maxwell's voice reinfused courage and
desperate resolve.
"Why, man, what was your haste?" said Baldwin.
"Sure the rounds o' yer ladder was slippy," answered Rooney, with some
indignation. "Didn't ye see, I lost me howld? Come, putt on the glass
an' I'll try again. Never say die was a motto of me owld father, an' it
was the only legacy he left me.--I'm ready, sur."
It is right here to remark that something of the pupil's return of
courage and resolution was due to his quick perception. He had time to
reflect that he really had been at, or near, the bottom of the sea--at
all events over head and ears in water--for several minutes without
being drowned, even without being moistened, and his faith in the
diving-dress, though still weak, had dawned sufficiently to assert
itself as a power.
"Ha! My lad, you'll do. You'll make a diver yet," said Baldwin, when
about to readjust the glass. "I forgot to tell you that when your
breath clouds the front-glass, you've only got to bend your head down,
and wipe it off with your night-cap. Now, then, down you go once more."
This time the pat on the head was followed by a descending motion. The
mailed figure was feeling with its right foot for the next round of the
ladder. Then slowly--very slowly--the left foot was let down, while the
two hands held on with a tenacity that caused all the muscles and sinews
to stand out rigidly. Then one hand was loosened, and caught nervously
at a lower round--then the other hand followed, and thus by degrees the
pupil went under the surface, when his helmet appeared like a large
round ball of light enveloped in the milky-way of air-bubbles that rose
from it.
"You'd better give the signal to ask if all's right," said Edgar, who
felt a little anxious.
"Do so," said Baldwin, nodding to the assistant.
The man obeyed, but no answering signal was returned.
According to rule they should instantly have hauled the diver up, but
Baldwin bade them delay a moment.
"I'm quite sure there's nothing wrong," he said, stooping over the side
of the barge, and gazing into the water, "it's only another touch of
nervousness.--Ah! I see him, holdin' on like a barnacle to the ladder,
afraid to let go. He'll soon tire of kickin' there--that's it: there he
goes down the rope like the best of us."
In another moment the life-line and air-pipe ceased to run out, and then
the assistant gave one pull on the line. Immediately there came back
_one pull_--all right.
"_That's_ all right," repeated Baldwin; "now the ice is fairly broken,
and we'll soon see how he's going to get on."
In order that we too may see that more comfortably, you and I, reader,
will again go under water and watch him. We will also listen to him,
for Rooney has a convenient habit of talking to himself, and neither
water nor helmet can prevent _us_ from overhearing.
True to his instructions, the pupil proceeded to fasten his clew-line to
the stone at the foot of the ladder-rope, and attempted to kneel.
"Well, well," he said, "did ye iver! What would me mother say if she
heard I couldn't git on my knees whin I tried to?"
Rooney began this remark aloud, but the sound of his own voice was so
horribly loud and unnaturally near that he finished off in a whisper,
and continued his observations in that confidential tone.
"Och! Is it dancin' yer goin' to do, Rooney?--in the day-time too!" he
whispered, as his feet slowly left the bottom. "Howld on, man!"
He made a futile effort to stoop and grasp the mud, then, bethinking
himself of Baldwin's instructions, he remembered that too much air had a
tendency to bring him to the surface, and that opening the front-valve
was the remedy. He was not much too soon in recollecting this, for,
besides rising, he was beginning to feel a singing in his head and a
disagreeable pressure on the ears, caused by the ever-increasing density
of the air. The moment the valve was fully opened, a rush out of air
occurred which immediately sank him again, and he had now no difficulty
in getting on his knees.
"There's little enough light down here, anyhow," he muttered, as he
fumbled about the stone sinker in a vain attempt to fasten his line to
it, "sure the windy must be dirty."
The thought reminded him of Baldwin's teaching. He bent forward his
head and wiped the glass with his night-cap, but without much advantage,
for the dimness was caused by the muddiness of the water.
Just then he began to experience uncomfortable sensations; he felt a
tendency to gasp for air, and became very hot, while his garments
clasped his limbs very tightly. He had, like Maxwell, forgotten to
reclose the breast-valve, but, unlike the more experienced diver, he had
failed to discover his omission. He became flurried and anxious, and
getting, more and more confused, fumbled nervously at his helmet to
ascertain that all was right there. In so doing he opened the little
regulating cock, which served to form an additional outlet to foul air.
This of course made matters worse. The pressure of air in the dress was
barely sufficient to prevent the water from entering by the breast-valve
and regulating cock. Perspiration burst out on his forehead. He
naturally raised his hand to wipe it away, but was prevented by the
helmet.
Rooney possessed an active mind. His thoughts flew fast. This check
induced the following ideas--
"What if I shud want to scratch me head or blow me nose? Or what if an
earwig shud chance to have got inside this iron pot, and take a fancy to
go into my ear?"
His right ear became itchy at the bare idea. He made a desperate blow
at it, and skinned his knuckles, while a hitherto unconceived intensity
of desire to scratch his head and blow his nose took violent possession
of him.
Just then a dead cat, that had been flung into the harbour the night
before, and had not been immersed long enough to rise to the surface,
floated past with the tide, and its sightless eyeballs and ghastly row
of teeth glared and glistened on him, as it surged against his
front-glass. A slight spirt of water came through the regulating cock
at the same instant, as if the dead cat had spit in his face.
"Hooroo! Haul up!" shouted Rooney, following the order with a yell that
sounded like the concentrated voice of infuriated Ireland. At the same
time he seized the life-line and air-tube, and tugged at both, not four
times, but nigh forty times four, and never ceased to tug until he found
himself gasping on the deck of the barge with his helmet off and his
comrades laughing round him.
"It's not a bad beginning," said Baldwin, as he assisted his pupil to
unrobe; "you'll make a good diver in course o' time."
Baldwin was right in this prophecy, for in a few months Rooney Machowl
became one of the best and coolest divers on his staff.
We need not try the reader's patience with an account of Edgar's
descent, which immediately followed that of the Irishman. Let it
suffice to say that he too accomplished, with credit and with less
demonstration, his first descent to the bottom of the sea.