Chapter Eleven
On the Ocean Bed
Lower and lower sank the submarine. There was a swirling and foaming ofthe water as she went down, caused by the air bubbles which the craftcarried with her in her descent. Only the top of the conning tower wasout of water now, the ocean having closed over the deck and the roundedback of the boat. Had any one been watching they would have imaginedthat an accident was taking place.
In the pilot house, with its thick glass windows, Tom, his father andCaptain Weston looked over the surface of the ocean, which every minutewas coming nearer and nearer to them.
"We'll be all under in a few seconds," spoke Tom in a solemn voice, ashe listened to the water hissing into the tanks.
"Yes, and then we can see what sort of progress we will make," addedMr. Swift. "Everything is going fine, though," he went on cheerfully."I believe I have a good boat."
"There is no doubt of it in my mind," remarked Captain Weston, and Tomfelt a little disappointed that the sailor did not shout out some suchexpression as "Shiver my timbers!" or "Keel-haul the main braces,there, you lubber!" But Captain Weston was not that kind of a sailor,though his usually quiet demeanor could be quickly dropped onnecessity, as Tom learned later.
A few minutes more and the waters closed over the top of the conningtower. The Advance was completely submerged. Through the thick glasswindows of the pilot house the occupants looked out into the greenishwater that swirled about them; but it could not enter. Then, as theboat went lower, the light from above gradually died out, and thesemi-darkness gave place to gloom.
"Turn on the electrics and the searchlight, Tom," directed his father.
There was the click of a switch, and the conning tower was flooded withlight. But as this had the effect of preventing the three from peeringout into the water, just as one in a lighted room cannot look out intothe night, Tom shut them off and switched on the great searchlight.This projected its powerful beams straight ahead and there, under theocean, was a pathway of illumination for the treasure-seekers.
"Fine!" cried Captain Weston, with more enthusiasm than he had yetmanifested. "That's great, if you don't mind me mentioning it. How deepare we?"
Tom glanced at a gage on the side of the pilot tower.
"Only about sixty feet," he answered.
"Then don't go any deeper!" cried the captain hastily. "I know thesewaters around here, and that's about all the depth you've got. You'llbe on the bottom in a minute."
"I intend to get on the bottom after a while," said Mr. Swift, "but nothere. I want to try for a greater distance under water before I come torest on the ocean's bed. But I think we are deep enough for a test.Tom, close the tank intake pipes and we'll see how the Advance willprogress when fully submerged."
The hissing stopped, and then, wishing to see how the motors and othermachinery would work, the aged inventor and his son, accompanied byCaptain Weston, descended from the conning tower, by means of an innerstairway, to the interior of the ship. The submarine could be steeredand managed from below or above. She was now floating about sixty-fivefeet below the surface of the bay.
"Well, how do you like it?" asked Tom of Mr. Damon, as he saw hisfriend in an easy chair in the living-room or main cabin of the craft,looking out of one of the plate-glass windows on the side.
"Bless my spectacles, it's the most wonderful thing I ever dreamed of!"cried the queer character, as he peered at the mass of water beforehim. "To think that I'm away down under the surface, and yet as dry asa bone. Bless my necktie, but it's great! What are we going to do now?"
"Go forward," replied the young inventor.
"Perhaps I had better make an observation," suggested Captain Weston,taking his telescope from under his arm, where he had carried it sinceentering the craft, and opening it. "We may run afoul of something, ifyou don't mind me mentioning such a disagreeable subject." Then, as hethought of the impossibility of using his glass under water, he closedit.
"I shall have little use for this here, I'm afraid," he remarked with asmile. "Well, there's some consolation. We're not likely to meet manyships in this part of the ocean. Other vessels are fond enough ofremaining on the surface. I fancy we shall have the depths toourselves, unless we meet a Government submarine, and they are hardlyable to go as deep as we can. No, I guess we won't run into anythingand I can put this glass away."
"Unless we run into Berg and his crowd," suggested Tom in a low voice.
"Ha! ha!" laughed Captain Weston, for he did not want Mr. Swift toworry over the unscrupulous agent. "No, I don't believe we'll meetthem, Tom. I guess Berg is trying to work out the longitude andlatitude I gave him. I wish I could see his face when he realizes thathe's been deceived by that fake map."
"Well, I hope he doesn't discover it too soon and trail us," went onthe lad. "But they're going to start the machinery now. I suppose youand I had better take charge of the steering of the craft. Dad willwant to be in the engine-room."
"All right," replied the captain, and he moved forward with the lad toa small compartment, shut off from the living-room, that served as apilot house when the conning tower was not used. The same levers,wheels and valves were there as up above, and the submarine could bemanaged as well from there as from the other place.
"Is everything all right?" asked Mr Swift as he went into theengine-room, where Garret Jackson and Mr. Sharp were busy with oil cans.
"Everything," replied the balloonist. "Are you going to start now?"
"Yes, we're deep enough for a speed trial. We'll go out to sea,however, and try for a lower depth record, as soon as there's enoughwater. Start the engine."
A moment later the powerful electric currents were flowing into theforward and aft plates, and the Advance began to gather way, forgingthrough the water.
"Straight ahead, out to sea, Tom," called his father to him.
"Aye, aye, sir," responded the youth.
"Ha! Quite seaman-like, if you don't mind a reference to it," commentedCaptain Weston with a smile. "Mind your helm, boy, for you don't wantto poke her nose into a mud bank, or run up on a shoal."
"Suppose you steer?" suggested the lad. "I'd rather take lessons for awhile."
"All right. Perhaps it will be safer. I know these waters from the top,though I can't say as much for the bottom. However, I know where theshoals are."
The powerful searchlight was turned, so as to send its beams along thepath which the submarine was to follow, and then, as she gatheredspeed, she shot ahead, gliding through the waters like a fish.
Mr. Damon divided his time between the forward pilot-room, theliving-apartment, and the place where Mr. Swift, Garret Jackson and Mr.Sharp were working over the engines. Every few minutes he would blesssome part of himself, his clothing, or the ship. Finally the old mansettled down to look through the plate-glass windows in the mainapartment.
On and on went the submarine. She behaved perfectly, and was underexcellent control. Some times Tom, at the request of his father, wouldsend her toward the surface by means of the deflecting rudder. Then shewould dive to the bottom again. Once, as a test, she was sent obliquelyto the surface, her tower just emerging, and then she darted downwardagain, like a porpoise that had come up to roll over, and suddenlyconcluded to seek the depths. In fact, had any one seen the maneuverthey would have imagined the craft was a big fish disporting itself.
Captain Weston remained at Tom's side, giving him instructions, andwatching the compass in order to direct the steering so as to avoidcollisions. For an hour or more the craft was sent almost straightahead at medium speed. Then Mr. Swift, joining his son and thecaptain, remarked:
"How about depth of water here, Captain Weston?"
"You've got more than a mile."
"Good! Then I'm going down to the bottom of the sea! Tom, fill thetanks still more.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the lad gaily. "Now for a new experience!"
"And use the deflecting rudder, also," advised his father. "That willhasten matters."
/> Five minutes later there was a slight jar noticeable.
"Bless my soul! What's that?" cried Mr. Damon. "Have we hit something?"
"Yes," answered Tom with a smile.
"What, for gracious sake?"
"The bottom of the sea. We're on the bed of the ocean."