It was a situation calculated to make the stoutest heart quail.
Amos Fearless and Dave were surrounded by the demons of the deep!
The horrible ocean monsters pressed close upon them, their big eyes fairly starting from their heads, their long arms working convulsively, and their sweeping tails working the brine up into a milk-white foam.
Evidently the battle-cry had gone forth, for more monsters were coming up each instant.
Father and son looked at each other mutely. Both felt that the end must be near.
The din increased, and being under water was so painful to the two divers that they almost fainted from the concussions.
In the midst of the uproar, however, there came a sudden and dead silence.
Other monsters were approaching, leading to the scene a monster larger than the rest. It was the king of the submarine demons.
At the approach of the king all the others fell back.
The king advanced, with eyes as staring as his followers, but with a tail that was motionless.
Ten feet from Amos Fearless and Dave he halted.
For a moment nothing was done upon either side.
Evidently the king of the demons was calculating the best manner of attacking the strange objects which had appeared in his realm.
He had seen the dead bodies of human beings, but never had he beheld live human beings, with skins of steel and rubber.
At last he came up cautiously and put out one long and bony hand towards Dave.
The movement was so slow that Dave was filled more with curiosity than with fear.
The king of the demons felt of Dave's legs, his body and his arms.
Then he took hold of the submarine gun and suddenly wrenched it from the young diver's grasp.
With the gun he went back to his followers.
In the meantime the demon that had been shot was slowly dying, surrounded by a number of his friends.
As soon as he was dead the others rent him limb from limb and began to eat him up!
They were cannibals!
The king of the demons handled the gun he had taken rather gingerly, nevertheless his hand, or paw, struck the trigger, and the submarine weapon was discharged full into the face of another demon sitting near.
A wild sound immediately arose, and as the shot demon fell back dead, several other demons closed in upon the king.
Soon the monsters were fighting wildly among themselves. The water was dyed half a dozen shades, shutting in the fighters as in a cloud.
Amos Fearless touched Dave on the arm and motioned his son to follow him.
The young diver understood, and in haste the pair withdrew from the circle of combat.
Then they literally ran for the diving bell.
It was a fearful strain upon each, for their diving suits weighed seventy-five pounds apiece.
They were still a score of feet from the bell when some of the demons saw them running and started in pursuit.
"We are lost now!" thought Dave, but continued to run, and urged his parent before him.
At last both gained the diving bell, all but exhausted.
Entering, they snapped the door shut and sent the signal up.
Soon the bell was rising. To assist, they began to pump the water out of the bell.
The demons swarmed all around the bell, but did not dare to touch the glass sides or the crab-like claws.
Soon the bell passed from the zone of submarine light and then the demons dropped back, for they could not breathe in the upper portions of the ocean.
The bell cleared of water, father and son took off their diving suits.
"Thank Heaven we are out of that!" came in the sign language from Amos Fearless.
"We were lucky to escape," answered Dave, earnestly. "But, father, the treasure—how will we ever get at it, with those demons around?"
At this the old diver shook his head slowly.
It was a problem difficult, if not impossible, to solve.
"I wouldn't like to meet those fellows again for a million dollars," went on Dave.
And his father agreed with him.
It seemed a long while before they emerged from the ocean, at the side of the Swallow.
Those on the ship lost no time in bringing them on board and questioning them regarding what they had discovered.
The story about the demons was listened to with keen interest by Doctor Barrell.
"Ah, they must belong to the lost order of chilusia damondaribytis!" cried the learned man. "They are supposed to have lived at one time upon the lost continent of Atlantis. But if so, how did they come here, in the middle of the Pacific? It is a great mystery. You must bring up one of them in the net."
"Thanks, but I don't want the job," replied Dave, quickly.
"But, my dear young man, think of the interest to science—the—the great fame it will bring you."
"Not if the chilu-what's-his-name chews me up, doctor. You just ought to see them. Why, they are enough to give you bad dreams for a month."
"Then I will go down myself in the diving bell. If it is light, as you say, perhaps I can get some snapshot photographs of them," went on the learned man.
"What if they take it into their heads to smash the diving bell to pieces?"
"Cannot you keep them at a distance with the submarine firearms?"
"Hardly; but I was thinking we might take down some submarine torpedoes," went on Dave, suddenly.
The matter was talked over for fully an hour, and at last it was decided that another trial should be made the next day, and the divers should take along two submarine torpedoes, with which to blow up the demons should the latter molest them.
In the meantime Captain Broadbeam had his glass trained upon the Raven, and presently he announced that the diving bell from that ship was coming up.
All watched eagerly for the reappearance of Vixen and Walton, the rival divers.
At last the men were hauled up on the deck of the Raven.
It was seen that Walton was injured and had to be carried to the cabin by some of the sailors.
The rival divers had met only two of the demons of the deep, but an awful conflict had occurred, and Walton had had his left arm nearly torn from the socket and was suffering from the effects of the water which had poured into his diving suit.
"I'll not go down again," announced Vixen. "Not for a thousand dollars a trip."
"What, you don't intend to give up the search already?" cried Lemuel Hankers, in horror.
"I do."
"But you agreed to find the Happy Hour," put in Bart. "You must stick to your agreement."
"It's wuss nor putting your head into a lion's mouth," persisted Cal Vixen. "If you don't believe it, go down yourself."
"I will go down—if you'll go with me," said Bart. He was so anxious to get the Washington fortune that his former timidity was overcome.
Vixen held out all day about going down again, but several drinks of liquor at last made him bolder, and he agreed to try once more, providing Bart would go with him, and providing the bell was stored with explosives with which to fight off the demons if they showed themselves again.
The day proved cloudy, and it looked as if a storm were brewing.
"But I don't reckon we'll get it right away," said Captain Broadbeam. "And if you want to get ahead of the Raven's crowd you had better go down. I see they are getting ready to put their bell over again."
At half-past nine the Swallow's diving bell was hoisted into the Pacific once more, and Dave and his father entered it.
"We may never see you again, captain," said the young diver. "If we don't, good-by!"
A minute later the diving bell disappeared beneath the surface of the mighty Pacific.
Down and down went the bell.
The spot chosen was about five hundred feet to the northward of where the bell had gone down before—directly over the valley the divers had discovered.
Amos Fearless was of the opinion that if the Happy Hour was at all in that vicinity she must lie at the bottom of the valley.
The dark zone of waters was passed, and now they came into the light once more.
The water was warm and as clear as crystal, showing nothing of the dye and foam produced by the battle of the deep-sea monsters.
A number of curious fish sailed past the diving bell—fish which they had not seen before.
One was jet-black and shaped exactly like a pillow tied in the middle.
Another was red, white, and blue, with six eyes which shone like stars of silver.
"That's a regular starry-flag fish," was Dave's comment. "I wonder if we can take the sight of that for a good sign?"
"Let us hope so," answered Amos Fearless, in his sign language.
The old diver's voice was gradually improving, and that morning he had spoken a few words to Dave in a hoarse whisper.
At last they came in sight of that mossy plain, which, the day before, had almost been the scene of their death.
The diving bell was halted and they gazed around sharply for some sign of the demons.
Not a monster of the deep was in sight.
The moss was torn up on all sides, and here and there lay parts of bodies and bones, but that was all.
"Perhaps they all killed each other," suggested Dave.
"Let us hope so," came from his father.
The mossy plain was now passed, and gradually the diving bell slipped down the slope of the valley beyond.
Here the light was not so good and they had to turn on the electricity.
At the bottom of the valley grew a number of submarine trees and bushes, with vines which sent up their swaying bodies several hundreds of feet into the crystal-like water.
At last the diving bell came to a stop at the very bottom of the valley, among the trees.
They signaled to stop lowering and then brought out a tiny searchlight which had been brought along.
This was swept in every direction.
Suddenly Dave uttered an exclamation:
"Look! There is something which resembles a ship's stern!"
The young diver was right. Far down the valley his eye had beheld some woodwork, half buried in the muck and moss.
In a few minutes both father and son were working the claw-like feet of the diving bell and moving toward the wreckage in crab-like fashion.
As they advanced they saw a dark object above them coming down swiftly.
Amos Fearless caught his son by the arm and both drew back.
Then Dave gave a start.
The dark object was the diving bell from the Raven!
The bell contained Cal Vixen, Lemuel Hankers, and Bart.
Dave motioned to his father in the sign language of the divers:
"Come, let us get to the wreck first."
Amos Fearless caught his son by the arm and moved forward once more.
But the rival diving bell was between them and their object, and they had to make a semicircle with their own diving bell.
The rivals now saw the bell from the Swallow, and as both bells came closer, Lemuel Hankers shook his fist at the Fearlesses.
"You're a cheerful enemy," was Dave's dry comment.
Soon our friends were close to the wreckage, and Dave gave a shout:
"The Happy Hour! See, the name is on the stern!"
He was right, the wreck was indeed that of the ship for which they had searched so long.
The second diving bell now came up and came to a standstill directly at the side of the wreck.
But Dave was the first on board, and as Vixen approached he motioned to the rival diver in the sign language:
"We claim this wreck, which we discovered first."
"We claim the wreck," returned Cal Vixen.
And he made several motions to Lemuel Hankers and his son.
It soon looked as if there would be a fight then and there, but this would have been suicidal for all hands.
Yet when Dave and his father tried to enter the cabin of the Happy Hour, Cal Vixen attempted to bar their way.
Instantly Amos Fearless seized the rival diver and hurled him back.
"Touch me or my son and you will pay dearly for it," he motioned to Vixen.
At this the rival diver fell back, knowing full well that Amos Fearless was not a person with whom to trifle.
Slowly and cautiously Dave entered the cabin of the Happy Hour.
His father followed, and at a respectable distance came Cal Vixen and the two Hankers.
The cabin was badly wrecked, and in it nothing of value remained.
"I wonder if we can get down into the hold," thought Dave, and motioned to his father.
"We will try," came back from the old diver. "But be careful, or you won't get out alive."
The pair advanced with great caution, going down through the forward hatch.
In the meantime the rival party entered the hold by the rear hatch.
It was very dark, and the electric light shone but dimly here, for the water was so foul it contaminated the air they carried.
To the intense surprise of all, the hold of the Happy Hour was absolutely bare!
Dave could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses.
The great treasure was gone!
Their trip to the middle of the Pacific and to the bottom of that mighty ocean had availed them nothing.
Father and son stared helplessly at each other and then at the rival party.
All were equally dumfounded.
The rage of the Hankers knew no bounds.
Lemuel Hankers would not believe the truth, and had Cal Vixen go with him and Bart on a thorough search throughout the wreck, and all around it.
It was useless; the Happy Hour and the vicinity were absolutely bare of the first trace of gold, or, in fact, of anything of value.
With heavy hearts the Hankers party returned to their diving bell.
"The jig is up!" cried Bart, as soon as he was inside and could speak. "Oh, what a sell!"
"I was mad to believe in it!" came from Lemuel Hankers. "And to think that I have spent thousands of dollars on a fool's; errand!" And tears of miserly rage flowed down his cheeks.
"I reckon we might as well go up," put in Cal Vixen. He, too, was disgusted.
They gave the signal, and gradually their diving bell began to leave the valley at the ocean's bottom.
But less than quarter of a mile of the distance to the surface was covered when there came a shock on top of the diving bell which, sent all inside sprawling headlong.
Then came another shock and the water began to pour into the bell.
Some great monster of the deep had hit the bell and cracked some of the upper joints.
The collision showed those above that something was wrong, and they began to haul in faster than ever.
But great damage had been done also to the monster, which was somewhat similar to a deep-sea whale.
He became entangled in the guide line of the diving bell and was hauled up to the surface in spite of himself.
"Hullo, what's this?" cried Captain Nesik, when the monster came into view.
Then ensued a battle royal for fully five minutes.
At last the monster was cut loose and disappeared, with a loud splash, into the ocean.
Then the diving bell was hoisted aboard and opened.
It was found that those inside had been almost drowned, and all were unable to help themselves and had to be carried to the ship's cabin. Here they lingered for many hours between life and death.
The diving bell was ruined, and it was doubtful if another search for the treasure could be made by the Hankers' party.
Little dreaming of the accident which had overtaken their rivals, Amos Fearless and Dave returned to their own diving bell.
The heart of each was heavy, and for several minutes neither felt like speaking.
"A wild-goose chase," said the old diver at last. "I might have known it would prove so."
"But what has become of the gold!" returned Dave. "It couldn't walk off of itself."
"That is true. Perhaps those on board of the Happy Hour took it off, when they found the ship was about to sink."
"But they never brought any of the treasure to land."
"No—at least, none that was reported. They might have done such a thing in secret."
"Supposing we move the bell around and make another search," suggested Dave. "The demons appear to have vanished."
They pumped in a fresh supply of air and then moved around in a large circle.
It was hard work, and the confinement of the diving bell gave each a headache and a strange ringing in the ears.
Presently they came to a curiously shaped mound of shells, covered with moss.
"Hullo, what's this?" said Dave. "Hang me if it doesn't look like the home of some submarine animal. Perhaps it's a meeting house for those demons."
"If it is, we had better move on," replied Amos Fearless, in the sign language.
But Dave was curious to investigate, and presently they replaced their helmets, took in some fresh air, and sallied forth to examine the mound.
Inside all was damp—a dampness different from that produced by the water around them.
The mound proved to be hollow, with the walls covered with brilliant seashells of all colors.
At the top was a round hole to admit light.
In the center was a smaller mound, with a curious hump in the middle.
"Nothing here," signed Amos Fearless, when of a sudden something glittering caught Dave's eye.
He stooped and picked up—a gold coin!
In a moment he was digging away at the small mound in the center of the shell-like structure.
The moss came away readily, and to their gaze was disclosed—a heap of shining gold!
"The treasure!" burst from the young diver. "Found at last!"
His father was equally pleased.
The gold was mixed with bits of other bright metal and glass, for whoever had stored it there had known no difference in value and had simply made a collection of stuff bright to the eye.
"Let us go back and fill up the diving bell," said Amos Fearless, by signs.
Dave was more than willing, and they soon had the diving bell as close as possible to the door of the mound.
They had brought several bags along, and into these they began heaping the gold.
It was hard work, but this they did not mind.
The finding of the treasure meant to them a lifetime of leisure, had they a mind to take it.
At last the bags were full and still more of the gold remained.
"We will pile it on the floor of the diving bell," signed Amos Fearless. "Let us make one trip of it. After this I never wish to visit the bottom of the sea again."
Both worked steadily, and in half an hour had every piece of gold in sight picked up.
They were just taking the last of the gold to the diving bell when a horrible roar broke upon their ears.
The demons of the deep were returning to the locality.
"Quick!" cried Dave. "Or it will be all up with us!"
Father and son ran for the diving bell.
But now the demons saw them and the roar increased.
Soon fully fifty of the ferocious creatures were leaping and swimming toward the mound.
Their sharp teeth clicked together as if anxious to bury themselves in the bodies of the human beings.
With all haste Amos Fearless and Dave got into the diving bell. But before they could close the door one of the demons was upon them.
He caught the old diver by the head, intending to pull that member from the rest of the body.
Dave's heart leaped into his throat, yet his presence of mind did not desert him.
Raising one of the submarine guns he blazed away and caught the monster of the deep straight in the mouth and throat.
Mortally wounded, the demon fell back, one arm still within the doorway of the diving bell.
As quickly as possible Amos Fearless turned and shoved the arm outside.
Dave was about to close the door when his father motioned him to desist.
Then the old diver caught up one of the torpedoes which had been brought along, set its clock-like movements in motion, and hurled it forth among the approaching company of demons.
It fell in their midst, and, attracted by the shining metallic covering of the torpedo, all crowded around the object.
As they did this, the door of the diving bell was closed and the signal was sent up to hoist away immediately.
Hardly had the diving bell begun to move when a fearful shock made it quiver from top to bottom and cracked one of the glass sides.
The torpedo had exploded, dealing death and destruction among the demons of the deep, impossible to describe.
Fully a score of the monsters were utterly annihilated, while nearly every one of the others was badly wounded.
One that escaped came after the diving bell, trying vainly to destroy the bell and those inside.
But an unlucky movement caused the demon to come in contact with one of the crab-like claws of the bell, and seeing this, Dave worked the claw instantly, thus making the demon a prisoner.
The creature flopped violently, but as the bell ascended to the upper waters of the ocean, it seemed to become stunned, and before the surface was gained it lay utterly helpless.
Soon the diving bell was hoisted aboard of the Swallow.
"The gold at last!" cried Captain Broadbeam. "Hurrah! I was afraid something awful had happened."
"And the wonderful monster," put in Doctor Barrell. "What an odd creature! It will make a grand exhibition at the Smithsonian Institution."
"You'll have to pickle him in alcohol, doctor," said Dave, with a laugh.
Both Amos Fearless and Dave were very weak from having remained at the ocean's bottom so long, and it was several days before either felt entirely like himself again.
Strange to say, however, the trip after the treasure had helped Mr. Fearless' organs of speech, and soon he could talk almost as well as ever.
"This is the best yet," declared Dave. "It's better than finding the treasure."
"I am thankful from the bottom of my heart," answered the old diver, and his face showed that he spoke the truth.
"I don't think that I want to go to the bottom of the Pacific again, father."
"Nor I, Dave. It is too full of perils."
The storm that had been threatening broke the next day, and was a great strain on the Swallow and likewise on the Raven. The latter ship sprung a leak, and the Swallow stood by, ready to offer assistance if she should go down.
During that time those on the Raven heard of the finding of the treasure.
"I claim half of that treasure," said Lemuel Hankers.
"You'll never get it," replied Amos Fearless, firmly.
When the two ships separated it was discovered by those on the Swallow that Pete Rackley was missing.
"Do you know what I think!" said Dave. "I think he escaped to the Raven."
"Well, let him go," said Captain Broadbeam. "We can well afford to do without him."
"Do you think the Hankers will make any further trouble for us?" asked Dave of his father.
"That remains to be seen," answered Amos Fearless. The Hankers and their friends did try to make trouble, and how will to be told in another volume, to be called "Dave Fearless on a Floating Island; or, The Cruise of the Treasure Ship."
After the storm the weather became pleasant, and then Captain Broadbeam began the long journey home.
THE END.