CHAPTER XXIV
ATTACKED BY A FIRE FISH
"And this is the spot where the Happy Hour went down?"
"It is, according to the markings on the chart, Dave."
"And how deep do you reckon the ocean is at this point?"
"The chart says 12,500 feet—a little over two miles."
"It is a deep distance. Regular divers could never make it. They would be crushed to death by the mere pressure of the water."
"I have thought the matter over, Dave, and I think it will be best for both you and your father to go down only a half-mile the first day. Then, if that is successful, you can go a little deeper each day, until the bottom is reached. And you will have to use the diving bell at all times."
"I know that. And if we leave the diving bell at all it will have to be in those new steel-ribbed diving suits we had made in Washington especially for this trip," concluded the young diver.
The Swallow lay at rest on the broad bosom of the mighty Pacific Ocean.
Nothing had been seen of the Raven, and at present not a sign of a strange sail showed itself anywhere.
It was high noon, and Captain Broadbeam had just concluded his calculations to prove that he was at the very spot which was said to be that where the Happy Hour had sunk.
Dave looked thoughtfully over the side, into the greenish waves, lit for a depth of only thirty or forty feet below the surface.
What fortune did that silent body of water hold for his father and himself?
A touch on his elbow aroused him, and turning, he found his parent standing beside him.
Amos Fearless could not say a word, but he motioned to the water and smiled. Then he spoke to Dave in the sign language of the divers.
"This is the spot," he signed. "How soon does Captain Broadbeam calculate to let us go down?"
"I think to-morrow," replied Dave.
A long talk followed, by word of mouth on Dave's part and by signs on the part of the parent.
It was a sad sight to see Amos Fearless try to talk with his mouth and fail. His tongue would cling to his teeth and refuse to budge. At last he turned away with tears in his eyes and Dave was equally affected.
The remainder of the day was spent in getting the diving bell into shape for use.
This was inspected with great care, for it was understood by all that the two divers, father and son, would be taking their lives in their hands in going down such an immense distance as contemplated.
"It's queer we don't see anything of the Raven," said Dave to Captain Broadbeam.
"Perhaps Lemuel Hankers knows enough to keep out of our reach," was the answer. "He may know that we—or rather, you—are on board and have exposed Pete Rackley, and he may wish to keep his own head out of danger."
"That must be it."
"If Hankers came near us I would be apt to make it hot for him."
"And I'll do the same."
It was a clear day overhead when Dave and his father entered the diving bell and were hoisted over the side of the Swallow.
Slowly the immense cable unwound itself, letting the bell down deeper and deeper.
Soon the light of day was shut out and all became as black as night and as cold as a tomb.
Amos Fearless turned on the electric current and the diving bell sent out several rays of light.
The light attracted numerous fish, who swam up swiftly, only to stop just as fast and gaze stupidly through the glass of the bell's sides.
There was one fish in particular, commonly called the electric-light fish, the scientific name being linophyrne lucifer, which had what looked like an electric light on the end of its sharp snout and a rope-like appendage under its lower jaw. It had a square mouth and sharp, curved teeth, and a look which was enough to give an ordinary mortal a chill.
"We must secure a specimen of that fish," said Amos Fearless, in the sign language. "The captain and the doctor spoke about it particularly."
"And also a specimen of that long, thin thing," answered Dave, pointing to what is familiarly called in Borneo the ray of fire. The ray of fire is a white fish four or five feet long and less than three inches thick. It has silver scales which flash out like fire whenever it swims quickly.
Soon they had reached the half-mile limit, and the diving bell came to a standstill.
Then a door in the bell was opened and they prepared to spread out a strong net with which to catch what was desired.
It was by no means an easy task—indeed, the most of a diver's labors are very hard, and before the net was properly adjusted both Dave and his parent were almost winded.
Then they moved the diving bell around, from one spot to another, on the lookout for the electric-light fish and the ray of fire, so called.
Soon they saw one of the electric-light fish in the vicinity.
They had brought some bait along, and this was tied up in the net.
The monstrous fish scented the bait and came forward slowly and cautiously.
He was hungry, yet he did not altogether like the appearance of the diving bell.
He had never seen a live human being before, although he had feasted upon the body of more than one dead sailor, coming down with some wreck.
Amos Fearless and Dave remained as motionless as statues.
Nearer and nearer came the electric-light fish.
The light on his snout blinked and winked in an odd fashion and was once or twice turned upon Dave and his father.
Then, like a flash, the monstrous fish swept into the net after the bait.
Snap! went the line attached to the top of the net, and Dave and his father began pulling the net shut with might and main.
They had to work like lightning, for, feeling that something was wrong, the electric-light fish began to thrash around at a lively rate.
The net swept to and fro as the fish darted hither and thither in its efforts to escape.
Bang!
Up against the diving bell came net and fish with a shock that threatened to shiver the glass into a million fragments.
"Shove away!" motioned Amos Fearless to his son, and Dave caught hold of a rod to which the net was fastened and the net was placed at a distance from the bell.
At last the wonderful electric-light fish was a prisoner in the net. It still continued to thrash around, and fearful that he might break loose in spite of the strength of the net, Amos Fearless signaled to those on the ship to haul up the prize.
Slowly the net ascended until it was out of sight and only the occasional blinking of the fish's light lit up the path he was taking to the outside world. Then even this died out.
"A good haul," said Amos Fearless, in the sign language. "Now for that ray of fire and our day's work will be done. And I will be glad of it."
"So will I be glad," answered Dave. "We'll want several days down here in order to get used to deep-sea work once more."
The diving bell was supplied with a second net—smaller and of a much tighter mesh, and this they now put out in the hope of catching one of the rays of fire.
Two were in the vicinity and eying the bell and those inside with much curiosity.
"Nasty, snaky-looking things," observed Dave, as he helped to bait the net. "And they look wicked, too."
"All of the deep-sea fish are wicked-looking," was the answer. "I never saw anything different."
They waited for fully ten minutes before one of the strange fishes came up to the net.
Then it darted inside and began biting at the bait.
"We've got him!" cried Dave, and began to pull on the string which shut the net up.
At once the ray of fire tried to escape.
But it was too late, for the top of the net closed tight just as he shoved his nose against it.
Then an odd thing happened.
The fish began to lash around in a circle, emitting a strange sound like the roll of distant thunder.
Sparks flew from its tail which dropped down into the water like the sparks from a Roman candle.
"What a beautiful sight!" began Dave, when of a sudden he heard a swishing through the water.
He turned, to behold his father in a truly perilous situation.
The second ray of fire had come up and wound itself around Amos Fearless' neck.
Its hard body was like a wand of rubber, and unless the fish were released the old diver would speedily be strangled to death!