CHAPTER XV
TORN APART
The rough weather which had delayed their fascinating work ofexploration continued for a day or two longer and the boys, impatient atthe setback, were beginning to make plans to brave the heavy sea, when,as suddenly as it had risen, the wind died down, followed by a heavy,breathless calm.
"At last," muttered Dick as the boys stood shoulder to shoulder, gazingout over the placid water, "the elements are with us again. I had begunto think that wind would never die down."
"I imagine we'd better work fast too, if that overgrown hill isvolcanic," said Tom, with a glance over his shoulder at the loweringmountain. "We don't want all our fun spoiled by an eruption."
"Our fun wouldn't be the only thing spoiled, I imagine," grinned Steveas they started back for their apparatus. "If that old Jumbo over thereshould take it into its head to get busy there wouldn't be enough of usleft to send back to the folks."
Finding the slender shelter which they had erected when they had firstbeen flung upon the island, insufficient to ward off the terrific stormwinds that visited that part of the world, the boys had taken refuge ina huge cave, evidently dug out of the side of the mountain by countlessattacks of the sea.
That it was ancient there could be no doubt. Also there were traces ofhuman habitation. Someone had evidently dwelt there before them and theboys, as well as Jack Benton himself jumped to the conclusion that thatsomeone had been no other than the marooned old pirate himself.
Of course it was possible that others had occupied the island since thetime of the old buccaneer, but it was not at all likely. This smallvolcanic, desolated island, isolated from the outside world was not oneto attract visitors.
Of course, as Tom pointed out, the cave might have sheltered some poorshipwrecked refugee washed ashore by the strong tide. But to this Philraised the objection that the island was far from the beaten track ofvessels and a ship must be blown far out of her course in order toapproach these remote waters.
"Well," Steve had finished with a grin, "we might as well say this isthe old pirate's cave. There's no one to contradict us anyway."
"I wish," Tom had said at this point, "the treasure had been buried inthis cave instead of at the bottom of the sea. It would have been amighty sight more convenient."
"But not half the fun," Phil had added. "There's not everyone has achance to say 'howdy' to sharks and other weird looking animals withoutbeing afraid the greeting will be his last. I just sit fast within thatiron-bound diving suit and grin at 'em."
"You feel something like the cat the dog has treed, eh?" laughed Benton."Let the dog bark and be durned to him."
"Exactly," grinned Phil. "It sure is a grand and glorious feeling."
Now as the boys returned to the cave they saw that Bimbo was workingfuriously at something. It was so remarkable for Bimbo to work hard atanything that the boys regarded him curiously.
"What's up, old boy?" shouted Phil when they came within callingdistance. "Has a bee stung you or something?"
"Law, Marse Phil," the negro answered straightening up and showing allhis teeth in a broad grin. "They ain't no sech a thing in dis part deworld, not as Ah ever heered on. No sir, Marse Phil. Ah was jes' gettin'you' breffust ready in a tearin' hurry. The wind done gone an' lef' usan' I knowed you'd be wantin' get busy right soon. So Ah says to myself,Ah says, 'Bimbo, you stir yo legs, Nigger, yo done better get a wiggleon. Marse Phil done got one busy day befo' him.' So, Marse Phil, I jes'been followin' mah own advice."
By this time they had reached the cave and Phil gave the grinning blackboy a resounding slap on the back.
"Good boy, Bimbo," he laughed. "You're getting better every day. Ibelieve you know what we want before we want it ourselves."
Bimbo beamed at this praise and his eyes followed Phil with the faithfuldevotion of a dog. It is safe to say that the black boy would have diedwithout a murmur for this adored young master.
The boys were full of enthusiasm and they ate the tempting food thatBimbo set before them hurriedly, hardly knowing what they ate.
One thing was uppermost in their minds--the lure of the treasure hiddenbeneath the hatches of the sunken ship.
"I'd better take some dynamite with me this time," said Phil, as hefinished his last bite of breakfast and stood up, eager for action."From the look I had at them the other day I don't believe I'll be ableto lift the hatches by my own strength."
"All right, let's go," said Dick, energetically. "The first thing is toget all our stuff down to the water. We'll want to take some of theradio apparatus I suppose."
"Sure thing," said Steve. "We'll need a couple of batteriesanyway--enough to generate the spark that will set off the dynamite."
"We'll need to be mighty careful in using this stuff," cautioned Benton."Dynamite works a great deal more powerfully under water than it does onland. It sure would be unhealthy for Phil if we didn't get him up andremoved to a safe distance before the charge goes off. Playing safe is agood policy when you're dealing with such ticklish stuff as dynamite.
"Sure," said Phil, "that charge won't be set off before we're at a safedistance. Everything ready fellows? All right, let's go."
Heavily-laden they got down to the water and piled the apparatus ontothe stout raft. Then they got into the little dory and rowed as fast asthey could with the cumbrous load in tow, out to the spot where radiohad told them the sunken ship lay hidden.
Then Phil donned the diving suit and, with several sticks of dynamitehugged carefully to his chest was slowly lowered over the side of theraft, down, down, down into the unexplored depths of the ocean.
As on that other time, he was filled with a wild excitement. His heartbeat thumpingly within the narrow confines of the diving suit. He felt asort of awe at exploring the mysteries that were generally hidden fromhuman eyes. This was indeed a different world into which he was beingslowly lowered, a world filled with vivid-colored creatures which werestrange to him.
Down and ever down--while the color and shape of these dwellers underthe sea became more brilliant and bewildering. Distorted, grotesqueshapes brushed past him to disappear into the shadows beyond the radiusof the lights which flung their rays through the water.
As he sank deeper and the weight of the water increased, Phil noticed ashe had done before how the radiance from these lights diminished, therays seemingly thrown back upon themselves by the density of the water.
When at last his feet sank into the soft sand at the bottom of the sea,he could see only a little distance ahead of him.
"However, that distance would be enough," he told himself, thrillingwith the thought of what he was about to do. He, Phil Strong alone atthe bottom of the ocean with the treasure.
But perhaps, after all, there was no treasure. The thought chilled him.Suppose the gold they believed to be stored in the hatches of the sunkenship had only existed in the old pirate's imagination. Suppose they hadcome all this distance on a wild goose chase.
By a strong effort he shook off these thoughts. If they did not findgold, he told himself, at least they had had the adventure and he, forone, wouldn't have missed it for anything.
He found that the floating buoy must have shifted a little for he hadnot landed in the same spot as he had before. He had noticedparticularly the formation of the coral beds as a guide to the hulk ofthe ship and now he found himself confronted by unfamiliar, thoughwonderfully beautiful coral rock.
He groped his way forward, moving as quickly as he could in the clumsysuit, retarded by the heavy pressure of the water. He knew by experiencethat the oxygen in the tank did not last long and so he must make themost of every moment when he could breathe without difficulty.
It was a nightmare sensation, groping there at the bottom of the sea,knowing the need for haste and yet being unable to hurry! The grotesqueshapes of monster fish flashed by him and once a shark swam so close tohim he could have touched it by reaching out the hooks that serve
d himas hands.
He thought of what Jack Benton had said about the treed cat, but thistime he did not grin. He was too anxious to reach the ship before hissupply of oxygen gave out.
And then before him, looming out of the shadows as gaunt and gray as aghost was the hulk of the pirate ship. Phil gave a cry of joy andlumbered heavily forward.
Once the line that connected him with the upper world wound about aprojection of rock and he wasted precious time trying to disengage it.It would never do to repeat that other experience of his. Once had beenquite enough!
At last he reached the boat, clambered over the rail and tried to findfooting on its slanting slippery deck. He half walked, half slid to thefirst hatch and tried vainly to pry it loose. Swollen by water, itshinges hopelessly rusted, it would take a force greater than Phil's tolift it.
Phil picked up the dynamite which he had carefully laid on the deck.
"It's up to you, old son," he said almost affectionately as he placedthe charge close to the hatch and fastened to the fuse the wire which hehad brought for the purpose. "You just get the hatches open and trust toUncle Phil to do the rest!"
The work done, he gave the signal and was quickly drawn up to thesurface. The boat put in for the shore and not until they were within afew yards of it did they halt. Then Benton pressed the key of thebattery.
The Radio Boys Under the Sea; or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure Page 15
