SPONGING.
THE morning sun rose over a scene of bustle and activity. From the
hundred schooners strung out two or three hundred diving boats with
sails hoisted and engines chugging.
The young officers were up and away with the earliest.
"Go slow," Captain Westfield cautioned them as they stepped aboard
their craft. "Keep your eyes open an' learn all you can. Don't give any
orders unless they are absolutely needed. But if you have to give them
an order make them obey it, don't let them trifle with you. You can
take Manuel along if you want to, I reckon I can manage to get along
without him."
But the boys declined the offer. They had both taken a great dislike to
the suave, smiling Greek.
The Captain had given their crew general instructions before they left
the schooner and the young officers had but little to do but signify by
waves of their hands which direction they wished to go.
All places looked alike to the inexperienced boys, and as soon as their
craft was a quarter of a mile from the schooner, Charley signed to his
crew to anchor and proceed with their work.
The divers at once prepared for their descent to the bottom. The lead
was first hove to find out the depth of the water, which proved to
be about thirty-five feet. Before donning their waterproof suits,
the divers tested the air pump carefully and examined the air hose
minutely, for upon these two things their lives would depend when once
they sank beneath the surface. While they were putting on the strange
looking suits and heavy leaded shoes, the crew slung short ladders
over the sides. The divers put on their headpieces last of all, these
were large globe-shaped coverings of metal with two heavy glasses in
front through which to see. But two divers were to descend at a time.
Their places would be taken by two others at the end of two hours,
which is about as long as one can safely work at a time beneath the
surface. Those in reserve assisted their companions in adjusting the
heavy headpieces. As soon as the helmets were on they screwed in the
air hose, and connected the other ends to the pumps. A line by which to
lower and raise them was fastened around each diver's body and he was
then assisted onto the ladder, for it was almost impossible for them to
move in their cumbersome suits and lead shoes. As soon as they had been
helped to the lowest step on the ladder, each was given a large basket
to which a long line had been fastened, and they were slowly and gently
lowered to the bottom.
The young officers watched their operations with eager interest.
What impressed them most was the vigilant care shown by the divers
remaining on board. One took charge of the tub in which the air hose
was coiled and paid it out carefully as the diver sank, the other held
the life-line instantly ready for the jerks which would signal to him
the wishes of the one below. Not once did either's eyes shift or his
attention waver from his task.
"It's easy to see that this is a dangerous business," Walter remarked.
"Yes," his chum agreed, "I am beginning to see that Mr. Williams was
right when he said sponging was a man's game. It certainly takes nerve
to descend like those divers have, knowing that there is nothing
between them and death but that little air hose. But have you noticed
how they are treating that strange handsome fellow? They all seem to be
afraid to have him near."
The mysterious sailor had approached the men working the air pumps,
apparently with the purpose of helping with the pumping, but the
pumpers drove him away with menacing gestures and upraised fists. He
moved over near the coiled air hose but the diver in charge of that met
him with a torrent of fiercely-uttered words and he slunk dejectedly
forward, and, seating himself by the mast, buried his face in his
hands.
"Poor chap," Walter remarked, "he seems to be hated by the whole crew.
I wonder what is the reason."
"We will find out, I guess, when we meet up with Mr. Williams again,"
his chum replied. "He will likely know, or be able to find out quickly
from some of his crew. But look, we are about to see our first sponges."
There had been a couple of quick jerks on the life-line. The diver
holding it called to one of the crew who seized the line that had been
attached to the basket, and began hauling it carefully in hand over
hand.
The boys leaned over the side, eager for the first glimpse of their
future cargo. When the basket came into view they both uttered an
exclamation of disgust and disappointment.
Instead of bright, clean, yellow sponges with which they were familiar,
the basket was heaped with what looked like huge lumps of dirty mud.
The man dumped the contents out on deck and lowered the basket down
again.
"What greenies we are," Charley said as he glanced at his chum's
crestfallen face. "We might have known if we had stopped to think, that
sponges have to be cleaned and cured before they look like those we saw
on shore. I expect that pile is worth a lot of money in spite of its
unattractive appearance."
Five times did the basket appear loaded to the brim before the divers'
two hour spell below expired. As soon as their time was up they were
hauled aboard, their suits removed and the other two took their places.
"Whew, but I am getting hungry," Walter exclaimed as noon time drew
near, "and we came off from the schooner without bringing a lunch with
us."
"I am glad we did," Charley said. "It's all right having our meals
regular when we are on board the schooner and out of sight of the crew,
but it would hardly seem right to eat now before these hungry fellows.
I guess we can stand it to go without dinner of they can stand it to go
without both dinner and breakfast. Besides, I don't believe I could eat
any lunch if we had it. Whew, but that smell is getting awful."
The hot sun was getting in its work on the rapidly increasing pile of
sponges on deck. Adhering to them were multitudes of muscles and little
fish which were beginning to send forth a fearful stench.
"I am beginning to realize that a sponger's life is anything but a bed
of roses," Walter laughed. "It's easy to understand now why they only
eat one meal a day."
The novelty of the diving operations soon wore off and the boys, to
pass the time, busied themselves with an attempt to learn something of
the Greek language. They selected the engineer for their teacher. He
was a young fellow with an intelligent, good-humored face and seemed to
take great interest in their efforts. Touching different parts of the
boat and engine the boys repeated the English names for them. The young
fellow grasped the idea instantly and repeated the names in Greek,
laughing heartily over their attempts to pronounce the words after him.
In this manner the time passed quickly and pleasantly and the lads were
delighted with the rapid progress they made.
"At this rate we will be able to speak the language a little in a
week's time," Charley declared. "I'm--" but he never finished the
sentence.
From around them rose cries that brought the lads springing to their
feet.
The crew were all crowded against the rail staring as if fascinated
over the side, while the diver holding one of the life-lines was
hauling it in with feverish energy.
As the boys sprang to the rail, the diver's headpiece appeared above
the surface One glance, and they understood the reason for the sudden
commotion--from the metal helmet dangled a short piece of severed air
hose.
The luckless man was quickly dragged aboard, the head-piece quickly
removed, and his rubber clothing cut away, but his eyes were closed and
his face purple--he was dead. A long, weird, prolonged wailing came
from his shipmates which arose and fell strangely, like the strains of
the mournful death march.
The two chums gazed at each other with pale, horror-stricken faces.
"Poor fellow," Walter murmured, "His life went out like a candle in a
gale. Alive one minute, dead the next. What could have cut that hose?"
"Chafed against a sharp branch of coral or bitten in two by a shark,"
Charley replied, sadly. "Well, I guess it means the last of our
sponging, the other divers will hardly want to go down after such an
accident, and I don't blame them."
But, to his amazement, as soon as the wailing chant ceased, one of the
remaining divers began coolly to prepare to take the dead man's place.
"My, but those fellows have got nerve," he declared, admiringly, but
he stopped the man as he began to put on his diving suit and by signs
ordered the crew to get up anchor and return to the schooner.
"It's only a couple of hours to dark and we have had enough for one day
anyway," he remarked to his chum.
When the diving boat reached the schooner his shipmates prepared the
dead man for burial. The body was sewed up in stout canvas and a piece
of iron fastened to it. It was then gently lowered over the side and
sank slowly beneath the waves.
With its disappearance all vestige of gloom disappeared from the crew.
The dead man's scanty belongings were brought forth and auctioned off
to the various bidders, and an hour after the crew were chatting and
laughing with each other as cheerfully as ever.
"Mr. Williams was right, this is a man's game, and a game for rough,
fearless men only," Walter remarked thoughtfully, for a second time.