CHAPTER XVII
WHERE IS IT?
"Down on your faces!" called Tom to those with him in the cabin. "Liedown, every one! The freshest air is near the floor; the bad air rises,being lighter with carbonic acid. Lie down!"
All obeyed, Tom following the advice he himself gave. It was a littleeasier to breathe, lying on the tilted cabin floor, but how long couldthis be kept up? That was a question each one asked himself.
"Is every bit of our reserve air used?" asked Tom, speaking to Earle.
"As far as I can learn, yes, sir. If I had known that the auxiliarytank was empty I wouldn't have ordered the compressed air motor used.But I didn't know."
"No one is to blame," said Tom in a low voice. "It is one of theaccidents that could not be foreseen. If there is any blame it attachesto me for not installing the gyroscope rudder. If we had had that whenwe were caught in the cross current, or the whirlpool swirl, ourequilibrium would have been automatically maintained. As it is--"
He did not finish, but they all knew what he meant.
"Bless my soda fountain, Tom!" murmured Mr. Damon, "but isn't there anyway of getting fresh air?"
"None without rising to the top," Tom answered. "We'll have to trythat. Come with me to the engine room, Mr. Earle. It may be possible wecan pull her loose."
They started to crawl on their hands and knees, to take advantage ofthe purer air at the floor level. The situation of the M. N. 1 wasexactly the same as it had been when she ran into the mud bank in theriver, with the exception that now she was in graver danger, for thesupply of air for breathing was almost exhausted.
Reaching the engine room, where he found the crew lying down to takeadvantage of the better air near the floor, Tom made a hastyexamination of the apparatus. There was still plenty of power left inthe storage batteries, but, so far, the motors they operated had notbeen able to pull the craft loose from where her nose was stuck fast.
"Are the tanks completely emptied?" asked Tom.
"As nearly so as we could manage with the pumps not acting to theirfull capacity," answered Earle. "If we could turn the craft on a morelevel keel we might empty them further, and then her natural buoyancywould send her up."
"Then that's the thing to try to do!" exclaimed Tom, his head beginningto feel the heaviness due to the impure air. "We'll move everystationary object over to the port side, and we'll all stand there, orlie there, ourselves. That may heel her over, and help loosen the gripof the sand."
"It's worth trying," said Earle. "Get ready, men!" he called to thecrew.
Tom crawled back to the main cabin and told Mr. Damon and the otherswhat was to be attempted.
"Koku, you come and help move things," requested Tom.
"Me move anything!" boasted the giant, who, because of his greatstrength and reserve power did not seem as greatly affected as were theothers.
Going back to the engine room with Koku, Tom assisted, as well as hecould, in the shifting of pieces of apparatus, stores and other thingsthat were movable. They all worked at a great disadvantage except Koku,and he did not seem to feel the lack of vitalizing air.
One thing after another was shifted, and still the M. N. 1 maintainedthe dangerous angle.
"It isn't going to work!" gasped Tom, as he noticed the indicator whichtold to what angle the craft was still off an even keel. "We'll have totry something else."
"Is there anything to try?" asked Earle, in a faint voice. He was onthe point of fainting for lack of air.
Tom looked desperately around. There was one piece of heavy machinerythat might be moved to the other side of the engine room. It was boltedto the floor, but its added weight, with that of the crew andpassengers, together with what had already been shifted, might turn thetrick.
"Let's try to move that!" said Tom faintly, pointing to it.
"It will take an hour to unbolt it," said one of the men.
"Koku!" gasped Tom, pointing to the heavy apparatus. "See if--see ifyou--"
Tom's breath failed him, and he sank down in a heap. But he had managedto make the giant understand what was wanted.
"Koku do!" murmured the big man. Striding to the piece of machinery,the legs of which were bolted to the floor, Koku got his arms under it.Bending over, and arching his back, so as to take full advantage of hisenormous muscles, the giant strained upward.
There was a cracking of bone and sinew, a rasping sound, but themachinery did not leave the floor.
"Him must come!" gasped the giant. "One more go!"
He took a hold lower down. Tom's eyes were dim now, and he could notsee well. Some of the men were unconscious.
Then, suddenly, there was a loud, breaking sound, and something tinkledon the steel floor of the submarine engine room. It was the heads ofthe bolts which Koku had torn loose. Like hail they fell about thegiant, and in another instant the big man had pulled loose the machine,weighing several hundreds of pounds. In another moment he shoved itacross the floor, toward the elevated side of the craft.
For a second or two nothing happened. Then slowly, very slowly, the M.N. 1 began to heel over.
"She's turning!" some one gasped.
An instant later, freed by this turning motion from the grip of thesand bank, the submarine shot to the surface. Up and up she went,breaking out on the open sea as a great fish darts upward from thehidden depths.
It was the work of only a few seconds for the man nearest it to openthe hatch, and then in rushed the life-giving air. Tom and hiscompanions were saved, and by Koku's strength.
"Me say him machine got to come up--him come up!" said the giant,smiling in happy fashion, when, after they had all gulped down greatmouthfuls of the precious oxygen, they were talking of their experience.
"Yes, you certainly did it," said Tom, and due credit was given to Koku.
"Never again will I travel without a gyroscope," declared Tom. "I'malmost ready to go back and have one installed now."
"No, don't!" exclaimed the gold-seeker. "We are almost at the place ofthe wreck."
"Well, I suppose we can travel more slowly and not run a risk like thatagain," decided Tom. "I'll put double valves on the emergency air tank,so no accident will release our supply again."
This was done, after the broken valves had been repaired, and then,when the machine Koku had torn loose was fastened down again, and thesubmarine restored to her former condition, a consultation was held asto what the next step should be.
They were in the neighborhood of the West Indies, and another day, orperhaps less, of travel would bring them approximately to the placewhere the Pandora had foundered. The latitude and longitude had beencomputed, and then, with air tanks filled, with batteries fullycharged, and everything possible done to insure success, the craft wassent on the last leg of her journey.
For two days they made progress, sometimes on the surface, and againsubmerged, and, finally, on the second noon, when the sun had been"shot," Tom said:
"Well, we're here!"
"You mean at the place of the wreck?" asked Mr. Hardley.
"At the place where you say it was," corrected Tom.
"Well, if this is the place of which I gave you the longitude andlatitude, then it's down below here, somewhere," and the gold-seekerpointed to the surface of the sea. It was a calm day and the ocean wasthe proverbial mill pond.
"Let's go down and try our luck," suggested Tom.
The orders were given, the tanks filled, the rudders set, and, withhatches closed, the M. N. 1 submerged. Then, with the powerfulsearchlight aglow, the search was begun. Moving along only a few feetabove the floor of the ocean, those in the submarine peered from theglass windows for a sight of the sunken Pandora.
All the rest of that day they cruised about below the surface. Thenthey moved in ever widening circles. Evening came, and the wreck hadnot been found. The search was kept up all night, since darkness anddaylight were alike to those in the undersea craft.
But when three days had passed and the Pandora had not been seen, nora
ny signs of her, there was a feeling of something like dismay.
"Where is it?" demanded Mr. Hardley. "I don't see why we haven't foundit! Where is that wreck?" and he looked sharply at Tom Swift.
Tom Swift and His Undersea Search; Or, the Treasure on the Floor of the Atlantic Page 17