The Radio Boys Under the Sea; or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure
Page 16
CHAPTER XVI
WAVE-TOSSED
A tremendous concussion, a muffled explosion that seemed to shake thebowels of the earth--then a spout of water shooting high into the air, asight to inspire an awed and fearful wonder.
Removed as they were from the danger zone, the boys were yet near enoughto feel some of the effects of the explosion. The tremendous incomingwave caught them on its crest and flung them high and dry upon theshore, then broke over them, rumbling onward.
Instinctively they dug their fingers and toes into the yielding sand,waiting for the outward rush of the water to pull them with it out intothe turbulent sea.
It came, in tugging sucking volume, striving to break their hold--asmothering whirl of water. With all their might they fought to retaintheir hold upon the shifting sand--and won. Retiring with a defeatedroar the great wave swung outward.
Gasping the boys rose to their feet and made for the higher ground whilea second wave, lesser than the first tagged at their heels.
"The boat," gasped Phil. "The raft--"
"Safe, Marse Phil," chattered the voice of Bimbo in his ear. "The wavedone took 'em an' half buried 'em in de sand. Reckon we'll have to tugto get 'em out, yessir."
Phil followed the shaking black finger and there, sure enough, fiftyfeet away were the boat and the raft, half buried in wet sand.Miraculous as it seemed, the craft had been so deeply buried they hadeven resisted the tremendous tug of the outrushing waters.
"That's a stroke of luck," muttered Phil thankfully, then looked for hiscompanions.
They were there, looking kind of white and shaken and staring as thoughfascinated out to sea. One wave had followed another, each smaller thanthe last, finally settling into a froth of white capped combers, aseething whirlpool of writhing waters.
"Say," remarked Steve with a shadow of his famous grin, "if you ask thisold boy I'll say we sure stirred things up some. Who'd have guessed thatthat much dynamite would have made all that fuss?"
"It was a mighty pretty sight," said Tom, waxing enthusiastic now thatthe danger was passed. "A magnificent sight."
"And we ought to thank our stars we lived to see it," said Dick dryly."Say boys, what's become of the boats?"
Phil pointed them out and they went over to examine their contents andsee how much loss there was--if any. They found that a couple ofbatteries had been swept overboard, but as they had more safe in thecave, this was not an important loss.
The diver's suit which Phil had removed before setting off the charge,had been thrown clear off the raft but it was so heavy that it had dug ahole for itself and lay there, distorted and grotesque like some monsterthrown up from the sea.
"Lucky for us we didn't lose that," said Phil softly. "We'd have had apretty time trying to get hold of the treasure without."
As though the word itself had some magic power the minds of the boysimmediately returned to the hunt. As though moved by a single impulse,they turned and looked out to sea.
The tumultuous waters had quieted until now only a slight eddy and swirlmarked the spot of the explosion.
"Safe enough now, I imagine," said Benton, answering the unspokenquestion of them all. "What do you say we put out again?"
"Aye, aye," cried Steve joyfully. "Can't be too soon to suit me. Whatare you doing, Phil."
"Trying to get into this suit again," replied Phil, his hands fumblingwith his undersea armor. "This rig is about as comfortable as a hairshirt."
"Mighty handy when the sharks come snooping around, just the same,"laughed Jack Benton as he and Tom helped to adjust the clumsy suit.
"Oh I don't know," Phil's voice came muffled to them from inside thehideous head gear. "I'd just about as soon play around with a shark asthis thing."
And how could he know that soon he would remember those words and undercircumstances that would live with him in the form of nightmare for manyyears to come? Perhaps it was just as well that he didn't know!
Once more they put off from shore, Phil remaining on the raft eagerlyimpatient to descend once more to the ocean bed, to probe at last intothe mysteries of the treasure ship. What would the dynamite-torn hulkreveal to him? He had hard work to keep his teeth from chattering withexcitement.
"Steady now, Phil, old man," he heard Steve yell to him as he slippedover the side of the raft and felt the water gurgle up about him.
"Be sure you don't come up without a fistful of gold," added Tom, and byway of response Phil shook a claw at them.
Slowly the water crept up to his lips, to his eyes, and then he knewthat he was fully submerged, moving downward, ever downward toward theopen hatch.
That the hatch would be open he had not the slightest doubt. No hatch,however stout, could hope to withstand a force that had created a smalltidal wave so many feet above it. The way would be open--for him toexplore.
The descent seemed torturingly slow to his impatience. Once morebright-colored fish swam and swirled about him, bewildered, and yetattracted by the light from his lamps. Once more he felt as though thismarvelous experience were a dream from which he must presently awake tofind himself once more in the humdrum world of commonplaces.
And then at last, the touch of sand to his feet. The rope slackened. Hewas at the bottom.
This time they had judged the location better. He recognized the nowfamiliar formation of the coral rock that lay near the wreck and withever-increasing excitement he made for the ship.
His progress was a rather gruesome affair, hampered as it was by thebodies of dead fish, floating bellies up in a grotesquely helplessattitude.
The sharks and larger fish had suffered also and Phil was conscious of acreepy sensation at the roots of his hair as a dead shark bumped againsthis legs.
"I don't like 'em alive," he muttered, evidently referring to thesharks. "But I don't like 'em even when they're dead."
Then he was stopped by an unusually unpleasant thought. What--besidepossible treasure would he be likely to find within the shattered hulkof the old Sea Rover. The thought was enough to give anyone pause.
"If I hate dead fish," Phil communed with himself, "how much more will Ihate dead--" he paused at the word and then went resolutely on again.
According to the old pirate the good ship had gone down with all handson board and the pirate ships were always well manned. "Bricks andstones and dead men's bones--" Phil tried to laugh but he didn't getvery far with it.
At that moment the hulk of the sunken ship loomed before him, but inspite of his eagerness for the treasure Phil's feet lagged. If only hecould find the gold first--then, calling himself all sorts of names hestarted forward again, making the best speed he could toward the wreck.
"Don't be a fool," he said, briskly. "The fellows on the Sea Rover havebeen dead long enough not to mind my company. Their stolen money isn'tdoing anyone any good here at the bottom of the sea."
As he clambered to the slanting deck of the vessel it seemed to him thatthe oxygen in the tank was becoming exhausted but he soon discoveredthat it was only his excitement that caused his labored breathing.
As he stood balancing on the slippery deck he took in with a quickglance the work that the dynamite had done. No need to worry about thehatch now! The whole upper deck had been torn to shreds and the interiorof the vessel yawned toward him, a dark gaping hole.
With a feeling of one who is venturing into the unknown, Phil strove topierce the gloom in the depths of that strange vessel. What did theblackness hide from him?