CHAPTER X.
UNDER THE AMAZON.
Three days and nights of uneventful traveling brought the _Grampus_ toSanta Rosa Bay directly in the great mouth of the Amazon. Para River,to the south, is not generally considered as an arm of the river,although unquestionably it forms a part of the vast delta.
The mouth of the Amazon Matt knew to be two hundred miles wide, andfull twenty-seven fathoms deep. It is full of islands, and a bar,running seaward from one of these islands, caused the _Grampus_ anunforeseen delay.
Feeling positive that the mysterious steamer had reached the Amazonahead of them, or that she was perhaps watching along the coast; mostof the latter part of the submarine's journey toward the Para had beenmade under water. The boat was submerged when she reached the Amazon,and the run across Santa Rosa Bay was by periscope alone.
Matt saw the little rocky island, whitened with seabirds, and supposedhe was giving it a wide berth. He did not suspect the presence of thebar, and the chart, most unaccountably, did not show it.
The first news of trouble was contained in an announcement by Gaines,from the motor room.
"Propeller's out of commission, Matt."
This was alarming information. With the propeller useless, thesubmarine would drift helplessly in the current unless stoutly anchored.
Quickly as possible the ballast tanks were emptied and the boat broughtto the surface. Matt, turning the wheel over to Speake, rushed into theconning tower, threw open the hatch and made a survey of the situation.
There were no boats of any kind in the vicinity of the _Grampus_, andconsequently no hope of being towed into safe quarters while repairswere being made. Matt, when he broke out of the hatch, was confidentlyexpecting to find the submarine being whirled out to sea by the swiftcurrent, but, to his surprise, the boat was setting in toward a smallcove of the island. He got out on the deck for the purpose of makingfurther observations. Dick and Glennie followed him.
"What do you make out, matey?" queried Dick. "From the looks of things,we're floating upstream."
"We're in a back-set of the current," Matt answered, studying the riverin the neighborhood of the island. "That uplift of rocks parts thestream, sends the current around the upper part at sharp angles, andbelow, where we are, the current sucks back inshore."
"A dangerous coast to run into," remarked Glennie.
"That cove looks like a quiet place for shipping a new propeller," saidMatt.
"You ought to have a dry-dock for that, hadn't you?"
"That would be fine--but we haven't got it. The next best thing is toshift all the weight forward and throw the propeller out of water. Wecan do that if our forward anchor can find holding ground on the bottomof the cove."
Matt stepped back to the conning tower.
"Speake!" he called.
"Aye, aye!" came back from Speake.
"Send Clackett to the torpedo room, and tell him to let go the forwardanchor as soon as I give the word. Carl might go down and help. When Igive the word, I want the anchor dropped _at once_!"
Speake could be heard talking through the tank-room tube. Matt,standing by the tower, watched sharply while the submarine driftedcloser and closer to the rocks. The cove did not measure more thanfifty feet across at its mouth, and was semi-circular in shape, andnot more than fifty feet wide, measuring from a line drawn betweenthe rocky headlands at the entrance. The shore was buttressed by highbowlders.
The current was bearing the submarine into the cove midway between theheadlands--the line of drift being straight toward the farthest pointinland.
Dick had a hand lead, and forward at the bow he heaved it constantly.
"Mark three!" he cried.
"Eighteen feet," said Glennie. "How much do you draw, Mr. King?"
"We ought to have ten feet," answered Matt. "Sharp with it, Dick," headded anxiously. "We must get as close inshore as we can."
"Quarter less three!" called Dick.
"Sixteen and a half," muttered Glennie; "shoaling rapidly. You'd betterget that mud-hook down, Mr. King."
"Two and a half!" announced Dick, then: "Two and a quarter!" andfinally: "Mark twain!"
Matt was not as close to the shore as he wanted to be, but twelve feetwas as little water as he dared keep under the _Grampus_.
"Let go the anchor!" he yelled to Speake.
Speake promptly repeated the order, and only a very short scope ofcable was run out.
The nose of the submarine was brought up short and the stern movedaround into the cove as though on a pivot.
"The anchor's not fast!" cried Glennie. "It's dragging!"
Matt had already discovered that. The anchor afforded sufficientresistance to keep the bow of the boat toward the entrance of the cove,but they were sliding stern-first farther into the shoaling waters.
Dick hurried aft and began heaving the lead close to the stern.
"Two and a half!" he cried.
"Great guns!" exclaimed Glennie. "Wouldn't that knock you? It'sdeepening!"
"Mark three!" shouted Dick.
"Three fathoms," murmured Glennie, "and within two jumps of shore! Therocks must lie steep-to. The current's responsible for that."
The pull of the anchor continued to draw the boat around so that shewas drifting broadside on.
"Deep four!" reported Dick, and began coiling up the line. Thesubmarine was rubbing against the rocks, and there was no room to cast.
"Good luck," said Matt gleefully, "even if it does come out of adamaged propeller. We can pass a couple of cables ashore and tie up tothe rocks. On deck, Speake!" he called through the hatch. "There's someold hose and canvas in the storeroom, and you, and Clackett, and Gaineshad better bring it up. Fetch a couple of cables at the same time."
Matt leaped to a shelf notched out of one of the rocks, climbed tothe top of the bowlder, and picked out the stones most convenient formooring. When the cables were brought up and bent to their stanchions,the spare ends were passed ashore. While he was making them fast,Clackett, Gaines, Speake, and Carl were festooning the old hose overthe submarine's side and padding the plates with canvas blankets asfenders against the jagged rocks.
"Now," called Matt, talking from the top of a bowlder and looking downon the deck of the _Grampus_, "the next thing is to weight the forwardpart of the boat so that the propeller will be thrown up clear of thewater. Move everything possible from aft. If the anchor has taken hold,a little pulling on the chain may help. If this don't fill the bill,then we'll pile rocks on the bow and force it under that way. Now,then, get busy, all hands."
Speake, Carl, Gaines, and Clackett went below. Matt began tossing loosestones to Dick, and he built them up forward of the flagstaff, passingropes around the pile in order to hold it to the deck when the boatbegan to cant forward.
By degrees the bow went deeper and deeper, and the stern rose. At last,after some two hours of trying work, the propeller was brought intoview. The blades were fairly buried in a mass of ropy seaweed.
Matt gave vent to a relieved laugh.
"It won't be necessary to ship a new propeller, after all," said he."Traveling under the Amazon is hard on the screw. That bar was coveredwith seaweed, and the propeller twisted itself up in it. Pass a ropeaft and secure it to the periscope guys. You can hang to the rope,Dick, slip over the stern, and cut away the grass."
"Easy enough," answered Dick, dropping on the deck to pull off hisshoes and stockings, and roll up his trousers. "We'll clear away thatpropeller in a brace of shakes."
"While you're at it," said Matt, "I'll mosey off around the island andsee what it looks like. I'll not be gone long."
He dropped from the top of the bowlder, and vanished. Glennie lookedafter him as though he would have liked an invitation to accompany him,and stretch his legs on hard earth, but he did not follow. Instead, hepicked up a coil of rope, and began securing an end to one of the wireperiscope guys.
"I'll attend to that, Mr. Glennie," said Dick, still with an undueemphasis on the "mister." "You
're an innocent bystander, you know, andare here to look on."
Glennie dropped the rope, flushed, and drew back. Matt had not askedhim to go on the exploring expedition, and now Dick refused to have himrender even trifling aid.
"I'm sorry you fellows have taken such a dead set at me," said Glennie.
"You told us where we stood when you first came off to us from thePort-of-Spain landing," returned Dick. "I don't see that you've got anykick coming because we took you at your word."
Glennie started to say something, but closed his mouth suddenly, andleft the words unspoken. Perhaps he was beginning to see where he wasat fault.
While he stood by the conning tower, watching Dick move aft with therope in his hands, a sharp cry came suddenly from among the rocks.
"Dick! Clear the propeller, and sink the boat in----"
It was Matt's voice; although faint, it was unmistakable, and each wordwas strangely clear-cut and distinct.
Dick halted and faced about.
"Something's happening to Matt!" he cried.
The next moment he dropped the rope and started to spring ashore. ButGlennie was already on the rocks.
"You heard what he said!" shouted Glennie. "Clear the propeller andsink the boat! I'll help King if he needs help--but your duty is clear."
The ensign whirled about and jumped from the bowlder. As hedisappeared, Dick saw his revolver glistening in his hand.