CHAPTER XXV
LEFT TO PERISH
For one moment Dave Fearless' heart seemed to stop beating.
The sight before him was a terrible one.
Vainly was his father struggling to free himself from the deadly embrace of the creature which had attacked him.
There were three coils of the ray of fire around the old diver's neck and these were slowly but surely choking the life out of the man.
His eyes were bulging from their sockets—his tongue stuck from his mouth. In a few seconds more all would be over.
Close at hand stuck a knife in a case on the wall of the diving bell.
With a leap Dave secured the blade. Another leap and he was at his parent's side.
But how should he attack the strange, snake-like fish? A false cut and he might stab his father in the throat.
But he must act, or it would be too late.
With a cautious movement of the knife he slit the fish along the back.
There was a strange hissing and the ray of fire swung loose the end of its tail.
It caught Dave around the wrist, holding that member as in a vise.
At first the youth was inclined to drop the knife, but he managed to hold on.
Then began an intensely interesting struggle between boy and fish.
Dave tried his best to twist the hand around so that he might cut the fish a second time.
He brought up his other hand, in an endeavor to transfer the knife, but as quick as a flash the ray of fire unloosened itself and caught both wrists.
In its own way it was fighting for its mate, a prisoner in the net.
Dave's two hands were now drawn tightly to his father's throat, as if the horrible monster of the deep meant to make the boy strangle his own parent!
"I must get my hand free!" thought the young diver.
Again he struggled, the sweat standing out on his forehead inside of his diving helmet.
At last he managed to turn one wrist and got the point of the knife again into the fish's body.
He cut and twisted as best he could and felt the ray of fire quiver with pain and rage.
The fish could not stand the cutting and presently raised its head in order to make a new move.
Exerting all of his strength, Dave made a slash at the head and cut into the light on the fish's snout.
A rush of phosphorescent blood followed, and on the instant all of the light died out in the creature's body.
Again Dave made a cut, striking deep into the fish, so deeply in fact that he made an ugly scratch on his father's neck.
This last blow was too much for the ray of fire, and slowly it fell away and floated off, Dave did not know to where.
Freed from his captor, Amos Fearless sank in a heap at the door of the diving bell.
Was he dead?
In frantic haste the youth pulled himself and his parent into the bell and shut the door.
Then he gave a quick signal to be raised to the surface.
There was no immediate answer, and a fresh alarm took possession of the young diver.
"What does this mean? Why don't they pull us up?" he asked himself.
Generally the life-line, as it is termed, is watched constantly, and every signal of a diver is acted upon on the instant.
Were this not so, many a man of the deep would go down never to come up.
A minute went by and still the signal remained unanswered.
To the boy the time seemed an age.
Feeling that his parent might die before being brought up, he began to empty the diving bell of water.
There was a fresh-air hose attached to the bell, and as the water was forced out the air came in, until at last the bell was as dry as a hogshead that has been emptied.
The moment the water was out, Dave began to work upon his diving suit.
It was no easy job to get it off without assistance.
Generally one diver helped the other, but he could obtain no aid from that form now lying stiff and motionless upon the floor of the diving bell.
At last his arms and his head were free and he turned his attention to his parent.
He unscrewed the helmet and then the rest of the old diver's suit.
Amos Fearless was almost black in the face and there was an ugly mark around his throat, mingling with the blood from the scratch Dave had caused.
Putting his ear to his parent's breast, the boy made out that his father still breathed faintly.
In the diving bell was some liquor, to be used for restorative purposes, and some of this Dave poured down his father's throat.
But still the man did not stir, and Dave began to rub his hands and move his arms, that his lungs might again get into working order.
Ten minutes passed and at last Amos Fearless gave a slight gasp.
Taking this for a good sign, Dave continued his labors and was presently rewarded by seeing his father open his eyes and shudder.
"Father! are you all right now?" asked the boy.
The only reply was a groan. But then Amos Fearless gave a long breath, and Dave knew that he was saved.
"You had a narrow escape, father," he said. "The light fish tried to strangle you. I had to cut him to pieces with the knife. I cut you a little on the neck, but that couldn't be helped."
Amos Fearless made a feeble sign. "I know—brave boy," was what he said, and caught his son by the hand.
In the meantime the ray of fire in the net was still threshing around on the outside of the bell.
But to this fish they now paid no attention.
"Let us go up," signed Mr. Fearless, after a pause of a few minutes.
"I have signaled," was the son's answer.
"I will signal again."
He pulled the cord several times in lively fashion.
Then he waited—five seconds—ten seconds—a full minute. And still the diving bell did not move.
"They have given up watching the life-line," he reasoned. "How careless! I'll give Captain Broadbeam a talking to when they do haul us up."
"Something must be wrong," said the father, in his sign language. "Captain Broadbeam would not forget us in this fashion."
Slowly the minutes went by and each instant father and son grew more anxious.
They could not ascend of themselves, nor could they leave the diving bell and float to the surface.
Had they left the bell without their suits the water would have crushed them, for the pressure was enormous at this distance under the surface.
The air in the diving bell was anything but pure, and now of a sudden it stopped coming in altogether.
"We are lost!" cried Dave. "We shall be smothered to death!"
"I cannot believe Captain Broadbeam has forgotten us," signed Amos Fearless. "As I said before, something must be wrong!"
The old diver was right; something was very wrong on board of the Swallow.
While the two divers were at work under the surface of the ocean, a wild cry had arisen on board of the ship, a cry which thrilled everyone who heard it to the heart.
It came from the cook's galley and was quickly taken up on all sides.
"Fire! fire! The ship is on fire!"
The report was true. Some fat on the cook's stove had boiled over and taken fire, and now the burning fat was flowing in all directions.
It looked as if the Swallow and all on board of her were doomed!