In the Diving Suits
There was no doubt that the steamer
was coming after the submarine. Several observations
Captain Weston made confirmed this, and he reported
the fact to Mr. Swift.
“Well, we’ll change our
plans, then,” said the inventor. “Instead
of sailing on the surface we’ll go below.
But first let them get near so they may have the benefit
of seeing what we do. Tom, go below, please,
and tell Mr. Sharp to get every thing in readiness
for a quick descent. We’ll slow up a bit
now, and let them get nearer to us.”
The speed of the submarine was reduced,
and in a short time the strange steamer had overhauled
her, coming to within hailing distance.
Mr. Swift signaled for the machinery
to stop and the submarine came to a halt on the surface,
bobbing about like a half-submerged bottle. The
inventor opened a bull’s-eye in the tower, and
called to a man on the bridge of the steamer:
“What are you following us for?”
“Following you?” repeated
the man, for the strange vessel had also come to a
stop. “We’re not following you.”
“It looks like it,” replied
Mr. Swift. “You’d better give it
up.”
“I guess the waters are free,”
was the quick retort. “We’ll follow
you if we like.”
“Will you? Then come on!”
cried the inventor as he quickly closed the heavy
glass window and pulled a lever. An instant later
the submarine began to sink, and Mr. Swift could not
help laughing as, just before the tower went under
water, he had a glimpse of the astonished face of
the man on the bridge. The latter had evidently
not expected such a move as that.
Lower and lower in the water went
the craft, until it was about two hundred feet below
the surface. Then Mr. Swift left the conning
tower, descended to the main part of the ship, and
asked Tom and Captain Weston to take charge of the
pilot house.
“Send her ahead, Tom,”
his father said. “That fellow up above
is rubbing his eyes yet, wondering where we are, I
suppose.”
Forward shot the Advance under water,
the powerful electrical plates pulling and pushing
her on the way to secure the sunken gold.
All that morning a fairly moderate
rate of speed was maintained, as it was thought best
not to run the new machinery too fast.
Dinner was eaten about a quarter of
a mile below the surface, but no one inside the submarine
would ever have known it. Electric lights made
the place as brilliant as could be desired, and the
food, which Tom and Mr. Damon prepared, was equal
to any that could have been served on land. After
the meal they opened the shutters over the windows
in the sides of the craft, and looked at the myriads
of fishes swimming past, as the creatures were disclosed
in the glare of the searchlight.
That night they were several hundred
miles on their journey, for the craft was speedy,
and leaving Tom and Captain Weston to take the first
watch, the others went to bed.
“Bless my soul, but it does
seem odd, though, to go to bed under water, like a
fish,” remarked Mr. Damon. “If my
wife knew this she would worry to death. She
thinks I’m off automobiling. But this isn’t
half as dangerous as riding in a car that’s
always getting out of order. A submarine for
mine, every time.”
“Wait until we get to the end
of this trip,” advised Tom. “I guess
you’ll find almost as many things can happen
in a submarine as can in an auto,” and future
events were to prove the young inventor to be right.
Everything worked well that night,
and the ship made good progress. They rose to
the surface the next morning to make sure of their
position, and to get fresh air, though they did not
really need the latter, as the reserve supply had
not been drawn on, and was sufficient for several days,
now that the oxygen machine had been put in running
order.
On the second day the ship was sent
to the bottom and halted there, as Mr. Swift wished
to try the new diving suits. These were made
of a new, light, but very strong metal to withstand
the pressure of a great depth.
Tom, Mr. Sharp and Captain Weston
donned the suits, the others agreeing to wait until
they saw how the first trial resulted. Then,
too, it was necessary for some one acquainted with
the machinery to remain in the ship to operate the
door and water chamber through which the divers had
to pass to get out.
The usual plan, with some changes,
was followed in letting the three out of the boat,
and on to the bottom of the sea. They entered
a chamber in the side of the submarine, water was
gradually admitted until it equaled in pressure that
outside, then an outer door was opened by means of
levers, and they could step out.
It was a curious sensation to Tom
and the others to feel that they were actually walking
along the bed of the ocean. All around them was
the water, and as they turned on the small electric
lights in their helmets, which lights were fed by
storage batteries fastened to the diving suits, they
saw the fish, big and little, swarm up to them, doubtless
astonished at the odd creatures which had entered their
domain. On the sand of the bottom, and in and
out among the shells and rocks, crawled great spider
crabs, big eels and other odd creatures seldom seen
on the surface of the water. The three divers
found no difficulty in breathing, as there were air
tanks fastened to their shoulders, and a constant
supply of oxygen was fed through pipes into the helmets.
The pressure of water did not bother them, and after
the first sensation Tom began to enjoy the novelty
of it. At first the inability to speak to his
companions seemed odd, but he soon got so he could
make signs and motions, and be understood.
They walked about for some time, and
once the lad came upon a part of a wrecked vessel
buried deep in the sand. There was no telling
what ship it was, nor how long it had been there,
and after silently viewing it, they continued on.
“It was great!” were the
first words Tom uttered when he and the others were
once more inside the submarine and had removed the
suits. “If we can only walk around the wreck
of the Boldero that way, we’ll have all the
gold out of her in no time. There are no life-lines
nor air-hose to bother with in these diving suits.”
“They certainly are a success,”
conceded Mr. Sharp.
“Bless my topknot!” cried
Mr. Damon. “I’ll try it next time.
I’ve always wanted to be a diver, and now I have
the chance.”
The trip was resumed after the diving
chamber had been closed, and on the third day Captain
Weston announced, after a look at his chart, that
they were nearing the Bahama Islands.
“We’ll have to be careful
not to run into any of the small keys,” he said,
that being the name for the many little points of
land, hardly large enough to be dignified by the name
of island. “We must keep a constant lookout.”
Fortune favored them, though once,
when Tom was steering, he narrowly avoided ramming
a coral reef with the submarine. The searchlight
showed it to him just in time, and he sheered off
with a thumping in his heart.
The course was changed from south
to east, so as to get ready to swing out of the way
of the big shoulder of South America where Brazil
takes up so much room, and as they went farther and
farther toward the equator, they noticed that the
waters teemed more and more with fish, some beautiful,
some ugly and fear-inspiring, and some such monsters
that it made one shudder to look at them, even through
the thick glass of the bulls-eye windows.