Orders were barked in thick guttural tones throughout the sub, and the dials began to move. Slowly, slowly the fleet went under. But even below the surface the surging of the sea could be felt. Feet were braced to counteract the pitching, and hands held tightly to the rails. One minute passed, then another, and with a slight bump the commanders’ sub lay on the bottom. At once the radio buzzed and the other subs reported that they, too, had come to rest.
Outside the water was black … darker than the darkest night. Not even the brightest searchlight could penetrate it more than a few feet. But there were eyes out there that could see … great staring eyes that took in every detail of these weird things that came down from above. Yes, the sea had a secret, a grim, terrible secret … one that had good cause to be feared. If Heidt could have seen the horrible feelers that were attached to the thing that felt the body of the sub, he would have gone stark, staring mad!
FROM the depths of the ocean, the storm had brought up a serpent of incredible size! Its long mottled form twisted through the water like that of an eel. Along its sides were row upon row of lights, there to attract other fish that were devoured immediately. Anything was prey for this monster, and now it was hungry. For long moments it wound about the U-120, feeling of its shape. The men inside felt occasional queer bumps, but credited it to the restless ocean.
But the serpent was gradually becoming irritated. Every other creature that he had ever approached had fled in mortal terror. This new thing made no move. The giant tail flicked against the plates … a long needle-like barb shot out … and glanced harmlessly off. That tail held a stinger that would kill a whale in a second, and here was an enemy that resisted it! With unbounded rage, the serpent lashed into the metal fish, gaping mouth open wide. Huge tusks flashed and it came down on the forward gun. Metal rasped, ripped, and the gun was a shambles!
Hermann Heidt felt the shuddering of the ship. This he did not like. Perhaps there was something in the grotesque stories that Vinton had told. At any rate, it was better to brave the waves above than to stay here while his brain seethed with wild notions.
“Attention!” he shouted. “Get under way. Radioman, reach the others, tell them to surface and proceed to the destination!”
Men scrambled to stations and the electric engines churned. The sub rose slowly as the water was blown from the tanks. On all sides, five others went up, keeping a safe distance with the aid of their new precision instruments.
AT THE first motion of the boat, the serpent recoiled. Its tiny brain was not enough to cope with this situation, but he was so enraged that he would not let it end here. The unearthly fish, as long as three U-boats put together, followed the sub to the surface … then it saw the others. At once it thought that this was a mass attack, for it had happened before. Several fish of the same breed had banded together to fight it out, but it was an unsuccessful attempt.
The hatch covers in the six conning towers banged open. The captain of each ship stepped out. Heidt stood looking out over the sea when the officer behind him gasped and stumbled. “Herr Kapitan … look!”
Heidt turned. His eyes grew wide, his jaw dropped. Before him a huge head reared up out of a wave, a head all out of proportion with human standards. Suddenly Heidt saw the forward gun … and the marks of teeth. He screamed once … then the serpent charged!
TREMENDOUS coils went above the sub, turning it half over on its side. Heidt grabbed the rail and held on, but the other man was not so fortunate. Over he went … and teeth snapped shut, blotting out a death yell! In the other subs there was a moment’s confusion, then men leaped out and dashed to the deck guns. Shells screamed out over the water, but in the half-light, and with the violent pitching on the boat, they missed.
But the reverberations were felt by the giant of the sea. He turned, and in a moment was amongst the subs. The tail streaked out at the deck of one, and every man went overboard, while the gun was smashed from its moorings. Cannon fired madly. The men knew that they dared not submerge … and they could not possibly outrun this nightmare! Suddenly there was a horrifying series of shrieks. The serpent reared over the U-123 like a snake over a mouse. The great body smashed down once … and the sub broke in two!
Immediately it was back to the others … darting at each, deadly tail slashing and teeth snapping. The U-126 was next. For a moment the monster disappeared, and it looked like he had enough, but suddenly the U-126 was tossed out of the water like a wooden chip. It crashed back to the surface, rolled over and disappeared. The serpent saw that this was an easy way to dispose of the foe, and in an instant two more went under, leaving only a trace of wreckage on the surface.
On the rear deck of the U-120, Heidt screamed at the men to fire. The creature had left them to attack the other boat. The gun flashed as the serpent threw its coils about the U-122. The cracking of the sub’s shell could be heard even at this distance. Then … the shell hit! It pierced a coil … but exploded inside the sub! The serpent released his victim, and with a bubbling of oil and air the sub slid into the depths!
THEN … the serpent was on the U-120! Heidt shrieked … he looked into the huge eye of the monster … and that was the last thing he ever saw. One mighty swipe of those jaws cleared the deck of all life. A wave hit the uncontrolled sub and carried it toward the beach. The monster cast one look at it, and satisfied, went back to the black depths of the sea to nurse his wound.
WEEKS later, Henry Vinton came upon a strange sight. High upon the beach where the waves had tossed her was the abandoned, lifeless hull of a submarine. Still visible in large numerals upon the sides of the conning tower was “U-120” … and the forward gun was ripped off. There, plainly outlined in the twisted metal were the marks of teeth. Teeth larger than any man would believe possible … unless they actually saw them … and some did! Henry Vinton shuddered and moved on …
***
The Ship in the Desert
DAVID COTTER loafed about in the little general store of Wheeler, Arizona, feeling very uncomfortable in his newly bought “prospecting” clothes. He had been sent here by a museum society to bring back ancient fish fossils, much against his will, for he felt certain that this part of the country had never been under water.
For the past week he had been inquiring of the “natives” as to this fact, and the only answer he received was loud guffaws. Now he was a great joke in the town. Every time he passed a group of idlers someone was sure to make a remark. “Thinks he’s going fishin’ out here — Haw, haw!”
“The only thing ya can git in the desert air rattlers, an’ even then they’re scarce,” someone would say, and every one would laugh loudly, David was beginning to get discouraged.
He was in the store the morning he was about to make his first field trip when old Pop, the “desert rat,” came in. Pop was always greeted noisily, but with a lot of snickers, for in all his years of desert prospecting he never found anything more than enough to keep him in food. And, this time again, his whiskery old face told everyone he still was out of luck. Even David had to smile at the ragged appearance of the old man, with his baggy pants and faded shirt, topped by a hat that was a relic.
One of the local crowd grinned at Pop. “Well, old timer, whatcha find this time?”
“Cain’t says how ’twer much. Did git this though!” He dug in his bag and came up with a foot-high bell, green with age. Everyone roared at the sight of it.
“Now don’t tell us ya found a bell in the sand! Haw, haw — that’s rich! Go fer gold an’ come back with a bell!”
“Maybe there’s a church t’ go with it!” someone else added.
“Aw, quit yer laughing, fellers, mebbyso I can sell it. That is, if there’s a sucker t’ buy it!”
Just then David came over, picked up the bell, and scraped the corrosion — His heart gave a mighty jump, for it was an old Spanish ship’s bell, here, in the desert! He looked at the old man queerly.
“I’ll buy it!” David said calmly.
The boys, a
nd even the old man, laughed at him, but he settled the deal. When everyone had left, David took Pop to one side.
“Look,” he said, “give it to me straight! Did you really find this thing in the desert?”
“Sure ’nuf! I can even show you the spot! ’Bout ten miles out.”
THERE was a hot wind blowing across the sand when they reached the spot where Pop found the bell. They dismounted from their horses and David studied the ground carefully. He was beginning to get a wild idea about this whole affair, something that might result in a discovery more important than fish fossils!
His careful scrutiny revealed no rise in the sand that might indicate a buried ship, so he decided to dig. By now, Pop too, was excited, and together they set in with the shovels. It wasn’t until the sun was setting that they found anything. David’s shovel suddenly hit into some wooden planks, and he called wildly for Pop!
Side by side, they dug madly, until they had exposed a section of a rotted deck, and right in the middle of it was the stump of a mast!
From what David could figure out, they had come upon the hulk of an old Spanish galleon, which meant that this desert had at one time been under water. What a discovery! The sun had gone down too far for them to dig any longer, so they made camp on top of their “ship.” At Pop’s suggestion, David decided that blasting the sand away was the only possible way of getting at the ship’s interior. So, in the morning, they figured out the way the ship lay and Pop prepared the charges around it. This was the big moment!
Pop’s hand was on the plunger, and at a signal from Dave, he thrust it down! There was a deafening roar — flying sand and clumps of desert grass rained down everywhere. Slowly, the sandy fog cleared, and there, as though moored in a great pit, was the remains of a once grand Spanish Galleon!
DAVID AND POP shouted with joy, and they slid down the embankment to the ancient deck. They roamed about until they found a hatch cover, pried it off, and gazed into the mystery that the centuries had hidden. Somehow, the sand did not penetrate inside, so Dave and Pop took their lamps and descended. The ribs of the ship were skeleton-like. Corrosion was everywhere, and ropes hung in tatters from the crossbeams.
Being careful to avoid rotted planking, they explored room after room of the ship’s hold, and there, in the stern, came upon a hideous group of bones and skulls, some of which even had the remains of a fine costume around them. David shuddered at this, but Pop took it without even a grimace!
Back on deck, they climbed up the crumbling steps to the high poop deck and forced open the door to what evidently was once the captain’s cabin. Dave’s mouth dropped open. Facing them, from a chair behind a table, one hand resting on a book brown with age, was a skeleton of huge proportions, dressed in the silks of that age with a feathered hat on the bony skull that proclaimed him the captain!
Dave jumped forward with a cry, for here was the object of his search, the log book of the ship. Ah, what stories it would tell! Strange ports, raids on ancient cities, treasure!
But Pop was not concerned with the log book. He went rummaging through the cabin, opening lockers and drawers, finally coming across an iron-bound gold-decorated trunk in a corner of the room. Quickly, he knocked off the rusted lock and threw up the lid. There, gleaming dully, was a huge mound of Spanish doubloons, topped by handfuls of shining jewels! A fortune at last!
Their excitement knew no bounds. They jumped and shouted like kids. All morning, afternoon, and evening they spent searching the ship, and carting the treasure to the horses’ packs.
DAVE AND POP were eating a late supper that night when Pop felt the drumming of horse’s hoofs far off. He looked across the fire at Dave. “Ya know, it wouldn’t s’prise me none,” he said, “if the boys fum town came out here ta give us a ribbing. Seems to me we orta fool ’em!”
Dave caught on at once.
In town the men used to joke about the wild Indians in the desert, trying to scare Pop, Dave remembered; now they’d probably come out here, decked up in feathers, to do the job right! Both he and Pop got up and jumped to the deck of the ship. They took the clothes off the captain’s skeleton and Pop got into them. He really was a terrifying sight with the cutlass in his hand and his bushy whiskers hanging over his chest!
Dave hid in the shadows of the cabin, and sure enough, in a few minutes, the blood-curdling yells of the “Indians’ reached him.
The practical jokers didn’t know what to expect, and what they did see put ice in their veins! There, in the light of the moon, on the deck of an ancient ghost ship, half buried in the sand, strode a figure in flowing robes, with a feathered hat rakishly askew its head. Making not a sound, and waving its cutlass in the air, it was a frightening spectacle.
With scared yelps, the “Indians” wheeled their horses about and dashed away in the direction from which they came.
When Dave and Pop finally stopped laughing, and fell asleep, dawn was breaking in the sky.
It was early evening when the two cronies arrived in town, heavily burdened with mysterious bags. They pulled up in front of the general store and dragged their trunk inside.
“How’s the fishin’?” Someone laughed.
“Fine!” Dave smiled. “We almost caught a bunch of Indian sucker fish!”
Those concerned with the Indian episode turned bright red.
Some of the boys were looking at the bundles. “Git any gold, Pop?”
Pop grinned behind his whiskers. He’d shut these ribbers up once and for all this time. “Did I?” he howled, “I sure did! Got it all minted and ready to spend. LOOK!”
He poured out a handful of coins, and just ate up the sight of their eyes popping out!
***
Undersea Champion
DEEP DOWN in the cold, black waters of the Caribbean Sea, the huge mass of soft body and waving tentacles that was the monster octopus flowed along the murky bottom in search of food. As dark as it was, enough light penetrated the depths to show clearly the hideous form of this undersea creature. Enormous, saucer-like eyes glinted dully as they stared out, striving for a glimpse of anything that it might wrap its thick arms about and kill with its horny beak.
Often other fish, seeing the approach of the octopus (or squid), would slide off out of reach, none daring to approach within sixty feet of him. Easily, the long grey arms could encircle a good-sized truck, and just as easily rip it apart, had one been within its reach. Smaller members of the octopus family lurked in the shallower waters above, but this one, fearful outcast was a monster that no man had ever laid eyes upon. Those in the boats above knew he was there, however, for often their nets had brought to the surface the empty shells of giant clams. Nothing but an octopus of huge size could have torn the jaws of those clams apart!
But now the giant was hungry. An hour before, he had settled upon the shells of a clam that was half his size. The rubbery suction cups held firmly, and then the might of the tentacles came to the fore. Harder and harder they pulled, trying desperately to force the shells open. But the clam was strong. Its two mighty muscles held the jaws together without a quiver. Minutes passed slowly, the pair of weird creatures locked in the struggle to the death.
Then it began! The clam started to open! A scant half inch at first, then an inch, then two! The powerful muscles were weakening against the relentless tug of the octopus’ tentacles. Slowly the halves of the shell parted, until there was a one-foot gap. A tentacle loosened, and got a new hold on the edge of the shell. With this new grip the octopus exerted even more power, and the clam opened wide.
Quickly a tentacle shot out and squirmed inside the shells. It fastened on one of the muscles and heaved. It came loose from the shell! The other muscle received the same treatment. A firm grasp, a tug, and it was all over. The shells fell back on the sandy floor of the ocean, and the octopus settled down to tearing into the clam with his hooked beak.
But he was not satisfied. His huge bulk could consume much more than that before he was ready to rest. The devilfish sucke
d in water … then blew it out the tube in the middle of his body like an undersea rocket ship. He went shooting along at a terrific speed with every blast from his water jet. Smaller fish darted in front of him. A snakey arm shot out, a suction cap held the squirming fish, then it disappeared into the flabby mouth.
At first the squid did not notice the tremendous body of the fish above him. It darted about, its long, flat-bladed saw swishing through the water. Then the disk-eyes moved slightly, and watched every move as the sawfish came closer. The blade was slashing into a school of smaller fish, ripping them into shreds, which it took into the gaping mouth without changing its course an inch.
The octopus squeezed back into a shadow, while his tentacles draped themselves along the bottom. To all appearances he was part of that shadow. Just then the sawfish passed. Four arms went out, seized the thick body with a terrible, crushing grip. The other four tentacles found holds around rocky projections on the bottom and anchored there.
FIGHTING with all its might, the sawfish sought to slash at the arms that encircled it, but with every twist and turn the suction cups took on a new grip, while the muscular arms drew it nearer and nearer to the beak. A quick thrust! The hooked beak dug into the sawfish’s side and yanked. Again and again the horned nose of the octopus went into the other creature. Then it was all over. The body went limp in the great arms, and the tentacles ripped it apart. Smaller fish fought for the scraps that floated by in the currents, while the octopus ate his fill.
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