The Wizard of the Sea
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Roy Rockwood >> The Wizard of the Sea
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"Very."
"I don't know what to make of it, exactly. A fish is a fish, and unless
it has a big horn, it can't sink a ship."
"Perhaps he's cracked."
"Not he. I have heard of him. There is something in it. The man is sane
enough. He has been wrecked, and he has told his story plainly enough,
only I don't believe in the strange animal."
"What is it, then?"
"That's the mystery. There can't be any rocks in the middle of the sea.
It isn't a rock."
"Then it must be a wonderful fish."
A couple of hours passed when Dr. Woddle came on deck, arm in arm with
Captain Savage.
After a time the scientist left the captain, and met Mont.
"Nice weather, my lad," he exclaimed.
"Who are you calling 'my lad'?" asked Mont.
"You're one of the crew, I suppose, and you needn't be so snappish."
"I'm a passenger," replied Mont, "and my name is Mont Folsom. Sorry I
haven't got a card, but I was wrecked yesterday, and that will account
for it. I and my companions come from Nautical Hall."
"Indeed! I presume you were picked up as I was? Did you meet with the
singular animal that destroyed my ship?"
"Can't say I did. What was he like?"
"A huge, long thing, covered with scales, half in, half out of the
water."
"Are we likely to meet with him again?"
"I should think so," answered the scientist. "Look there!"
"Where?" exclaimed Mont.
"To the right. I don't understand those confounded sea terms, and I
don't know larboard from starboard, but on my right is the creature."
"The dreaded animal?" asked Mont, with a laugh.
"Yes. Look!"
Our hero followed the direction of the outstretched arm, and beheld a
curious sight.
Not far from the ship was a long, black-looking thing, lying like a
great round log on the water.
It was the submarine monster.
CHAPTER X.
THE SUBMARINE TERROR.
Captain Savage at once came to the rail, and was soon busily engaged in
looking at the wonderful creature which Homer Woddle declared had sunk
the ship in which he had been sailing.
The crew were much agitated, for seamen are at all times superstitious,
and, never having heard of such a strange monster, they fancied its
appearance boded no good.
The monster, which had been perfectly inert up to this time, threw out a
marvelous light, which illuminated the depths of the sea.
The magnificent irradiation was evidently the result of electricity, and
it revealed the shape of the strange fish, if fish it was, very
distinctly.
Its form was what we may call a lengthened oval, tapering off at the
head and tail, which were under the water, only part of the scaly back
being exposed to the air.
Dr. Woddle called the captain.
"Sir," he said, "the monster is again close to us. I ask you, in the
interest of science, to capture it."
"Who's going to do it, and how is it to be done?" said Captain Savage.
"This thing is a scourge of the ocean. It destroys ships, therefore it
is your duty to destroy it," persisted the man of science.
"We will harpoon it, if you like, though I do not know why I should risk
the lives of my crew. Where's Bowline? Pass the word for Bowline," said
the captain.
When Bill Bowline made his appearance he was trembling like a leaf.
"Get your harpoon, my man," said the captain.
"Not me, sir," said the sailor firmly. "I wouldn't harm a scale of the
critter's back, were it ever so near. We shall all be sent to the bottom
of the sea if I do."
Turning to Homer Woddle, the captain said:
"You see the feeling of my men; what can I do?"
"I'll do it myself," said the man of science grandly. "If no one will
attack this monster, the honor and the glory of the task shall belong to
me. Give me a boat and loaded guns. It will be hard, indeed, if I cannot
put a bullet in him, and lay the mighty brute low. Who will volunteer
for this splendid task?"
There was no response.
"What! Are you all cowards? Will no one volunteer?" continued the man of
science scornfully.
Mont stepped forward.
"I'm with you, sir!" he exclaimed. "Can't stand by and see a gentleman
left alone. I'm not afraid of the creature."
Carl, as a matter of course, took his place by our hero's side, and so
did Stump.
Where Mont went his devoted friend and equally attached follower felt
bound to go as a matter of duty.
"Three of you. Bravo!" cried the scientist. "Now, we are four, and we
shall triumph. Lower a boat, if you please."
The order was given to put the ship about, and a spot favorable for the
enterprise being selected near the monster, a boat was lowered, into
which the volunteers descended.
Carl and Stump took the oars, Mont grasped the tiller, and Dr. Woddle
stood in the bows with a loaded gun under each arm.
"My four troublesome customers," said the captain, in a low tone to the
first mate, "stand a very good chance of never returning."
"It will be a cheap way to get rid of them, although it may cost us the
boat," said the mate in the same tone.
"Steady, my lads," said the scientist. "Easy all; keep the head before
the wind, Mr. Folsom, if you please."
"Steady she is," answered Mont.
The boat stopped at a short distance from the monster, and Homer Woddle
stood up, placed a gun to his shoulder, and fired.
The ball struck the huge slumbering beast, but glided off its back as if
it had struck a piece of polished steel.
"Hard as the hide of a rhinoceros," said the man of science; "we must
try again. Steady, boys."
The monster, however, did not seem to approve of being shot at, and
seemed to tremble violently for a moment.
Then with incredible velocity it darted past the rowboat, which was
upset in a moment, and proceeded to strike the ship.
It struck the unfortunate vessel a terrific blow directly back of the
bow.
The crash was distinctly audible, and amid the noise of falling masts
and flapping sails were heard the cries of the sailors and the moans of
the dying.
After the concussion the monster retired as it had come.
A cloud obscured the surface of the ocean, and it was difficult to tell
where it had gone, or what had become of the ship.
Mont found himself struggling in the sea, and wondered what had become
of his companions.
"Hang those monsters of the deep," he said to himself; "I don't like
them."
Swimming gently, he got hold of one of the oars of the boat, and so kept
himself afloat without much exertion.
It was not a hopeful position to be in.
Struggling alone in the middle of a vast ocean, ignorant of the fate of
his companions, and doubtful of succor, it was not to be wondered at if
he felt inclined to despair.
Would he sink or swim? The question was, just then, a hard one to
answer.
CHAPTER XI.
ON THE BACK OF THE MONSTER.
Mont was alone on the ocean with nothing but water in sight.
Yet his heart did not fail him.
"Well," he said aloud, "I like adventures, and now I have met with a
beautiful one. Perhaps I shall be picked up. Perhaps not."
Five minutes passed. To our hero they seemed an age.
"Hullo! Hi! What cheer? Ship ahoy!" he cried.
He had scarcely closed his lips, after this appeal for help, when he
felt his arm seized vigorously.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"If you will lean upon my shoulder," was the reply, "you will soon gain
strength and swim better."
"Is it you, Stump?" said Mont, recognizing the voice of his faithful
friend.
"At your service, Master Mont. I have been swimming about everywhere
looking for you ever since that submarine beast swamped us. Ugh! What a
terrible brute it is! It laughs at bullets, and cares no more for
sinking a ship than I should for kicking over a stool."
"Is no one saved?"
"I can't tell any more than you; all I thought of was to swim after
you."
The situation was as terrible a one as can well be imagined.
Those on board the vessel were in too much trouble, if they were yet
living, to think of the perils of the others who had courted destruction
by going in the boat to attack the monster.
Nor would Captain Savage feel very friendly disposed toward them,
because it was Dr. Woddle's shot that caused the slumbering creature to
rush madly upon the vessel.
Mont began to calculate the chances of safety. If the ship had not
foundered the crew might lower another boat in the morning to search
for them. The sun would not rise for about eight hours. Could they
exist so long in the water without fainting or becoming cramped by the
sluggish circulation of the blood?
In vain he tried to pierce the dense darkness which surrounded them, for
now the moon had disappeared, and bad weather seemed imminent again.
About two o'clock in the morning our hero was seized with extreme
fatigue; his limbs were a prey to an agonizing cramp.
Stump put his arm around him, but he drew his breath with difficulty,
and evidently required all his strength for himself.
"Let me go, boy," said Mont; "save yourself."
"Certainly not," said Stump quickly. "We're not going down just yet."
At that moment the moon appeared again from under the edge of a thick
cloud which had concealed it for a time, and the surface of the sea
sparkled under its rays.
This fortunate light put new strength into the boys, and Mont searched
the horizon with eager, careful gaze.
He saw the ship, or what appeared to be her, about two miles off,
looking like a somber, inert mass, but there was no sign of a boat.
At first he was inclined to cry for help, but of what use would it have
been at that distance?
"Here, this way! Hi! help, help!" shouted Stump.
Was it one of those delusive sounds which the anxious mind sometimes
conjures up, or did an answer really come to the lad's cry for help?
"Did you hear anything?" asked Mont.
"Yes, I thought so," said Stump, and he began to cry out again.
"Help, help!"
This time there was no mistake. A human voice clearly responded through
the darkness.
Stump lifted himself as high out of the water as he could, and taking a
look, fell back exhausted, clinging desperately to the oar.
"Did you see anything?" asked Mont anxiously.
"Yes; don't talk, sir; we want all our strength."
There was a hopeful ring in his voice which inspired Mont, who,
however, fancied he heard the boy sigh almost directly afterward.
He thought of the monster. Was it still near them? But, if so, whence
came the voice?
They began to swim with all the strength they had left, and after some
minutes of continued exertion, for moving was a painful task in their
state, Stump spoke again.
"Are you far off?" he said.
"Not far--push on," replied the voice, which Mont fancied he knew.
Suddenly an outstretched hand seized him; he was pulled violently out of
the water, just as his senses were going, and, after someone had rubbed
his hands vigorously, he opened his eyes and murmured:
"Stump."
"Here, sir," replied the lad.
By the rays of the moon our hero saw a figure which was not that of
Stump, but which he recognized easily.
"Dr. Woddle?" he said.
"Right, my lad," answered the man of science.
"Where is Carl?"
"Here," answered our hero's chum. "The doctor and I stuck together, and
our only concern has been for you."
"Where are we?" asked Mont puzzled; "this thing I am sitting on seems
firm enough."
"It's a floating island," answered Woddle.
A horrible thought crossed Mont's mind to which he could not give
expression.
"To put you out of your misery at once," continued Dr. Woddle, "we are
on the back of the gigantic creature at whom I shot, and I know now why
I did not kill him."
"Why?"
"Because he is ironclad, or something very like it. I can make no
impression upon the scaly monster with my knife."
These words produced a strange feeling in Mont's mind. He found that he
was really with his friends on the back of the monster, which continued
to float on the surface, after causing the partial destruction of the
ship.
He got up and stamped his foot. It was certainly a hard, impenetrable
body, and not the soft substance of which all the marine inhabitants
that he had heard of were made, such as whales, sharks, walruses, and
the like. If anything, it more resembled a tortoise or an alligator. A
hollow sound was emitted when it was struck, and it appeared to be made
of cast-iron plates secured together.
"What is your opinion of the creature, sir?" asked Mont.
"You want my candid opinion as a man of science?" said the doctor.
"Certainly, sir."
"I should say, then, that this peculiarly constructed monster is the
result of human hands and ingenuity."
"In that case, it is not a monster at all."
"By no means; I am very much in the dark at present, but I am positive
that there is some wonderful mystery about this thing, which to my mind
is a sort of submarine ship, ingeniously constructed to sail under the
water for a time, and to come to the surface for a supply of fresh air
from time to time. In short; an electric submarine boat."
CHAPTER XII.
INSIDE OF THE "SEARCHER."
All three of the boys were greatly astonished.
"It beats the Dutch!" cried Carl.
"If that is so," said Mont, "there must be some internal mechanism to
make it work about."
"Evidently."
"It gives no sign of life."
"Not at present," answered the man of science. "But we have seen it
move. It has appeared and disappeared. Consequently, it must have hidden
machinery."
"Of course."
"So that we come to the conclusion, which is inevitable, that there must
be a man or men inside to direct the ship."
"Hurrah!" cried our hero; "I didn't think of that. We are saved if that
is so, and it must be as you say."
"Hum!" muttered the professor; "I don't know so much about that. If,
when it makes a start, it glides along the surface of the water, we are
all right; but if it goes down, we are lost."
"I've got an idea," said Mont, after a pause. "We must knock at the
door, and see if we can find anyone at home."
His companions laughed.
"I have searched carefully," said Carl, "but I can't find even a
manhole."
There was nothing to do but to wait until morning.
Mont wanted to keep his feet warm, so he amused himself by kicking his
heels upon the body beneath him.
"I'll wake 'em up," he said. "They shan't sleep if they won't let me
in."
Their safety depended absolutely upon the caprice of the mysterious
steersman who inhabited the ironclad, fish-shaped machine.
It seemed to the professor that before those inside descended again they
would have to open some hole to obtain air.
All were now very tired, wet, and hungry, and soon a raging thirst began
to attack them.
Our hero fancied he heard vague sounds beneath him, but could not be
sure.
Who were the strange beings that lived in the floating iron shell?
Kicking angrily upon the iron surface, Mont said:
"You are very inhospitable inside. I am hungry and thirsty. Do you want
me to die up here?"
He had no sooner spoken than a flap beside him opened and a railing came
up as if by magic.
Half the body of a strong, wiry, thick-bearded man appeared. He held a
curious wire net.
The net fell over Mont's head, and he felt himself dragged over the
railing and down into the interior of the iron shell.
A cry of terror broke from his companions, answered by a smothered yell
from Mont, as the flap fell back and shut out any further view of the
interior.
Our hero had vanished.
This removal, so brutally executed, was accomplished with the rapidity
of lightning.
Dr. Woddle felt his hair stand on end, and as for Carl and Stump they
were chilled to the marrow of their bones with fear.
"What have they done with him?" Carl asked.
"Your friend is the first victim," replied the professor. "Perhaps they
mean to eat him. For my part, they may eat me as soon as they like;
anything is preferable to this."
"I wish I could get at them," replied Stump. "I'd soon have Master Mont
out."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the trap door opened
again, and the servant was dragged down below in a similar manner.
"Really this is very extraordinary," said the professor; "two of us are
gone. We are no doubt in the hands of pirates, wretched rovers of the
sea, who have brought science to their aid. It is to be hoped----"
The door opened while he was speaking and a long arm twining round his
waist dragged him too into the heart of this floating prison.
His legs kicking up ludicrously in the air attracted the attention of
Carl, who could not refrain from laughing, miserable though he was.
"My turn next," muttered the youth.
He was not long kept in suspense.
The long net twined, snakelike, round him, and he too descended into the
bowels of the infernal machine.
Mont's experience was that of all of them.
He had descended an iron ladder and was pushed into a room, the door of
which shut to with a heavy bang.
In ten minutes they were all together in the same compartment.
The darkness of their prison was so intense as to prevent our hero
seeing his hand before his face.
Thus it was impossible to guess where they were, or even to tell if they
were alone or not.
"This is an outrage," said the doctor. "I protest against it. Is the
author of a dozen immortal works to be treated like a naughty
schoolboy?"
"We're prisoners," remarked Mont, "and it's no use hallooing. They're
not going to eat us. This isn't an oven, and I think we are better here
than up above."
"At least we had our liberty," continued the doctor, who was never
satisfied or happy unless he was at work or grumbling.
"I've got a knife," said Stump boldly, "and I'll stick the first that
comes near me. It's a regular pig-sticker, my knife, and I'll bet they
feel it."
"Don't you do anything of the sort!" cried Mont. "You might get us all
killed."
"It's very hard if a poor boy can't do something."
"You'll get it hot if anyone is listening to you. If you don't care for
yourself, think of us."
Stump grumbled inaudibly, and Mont began to take the dimensions of the
prison in which they were.
This he did by walking about, and he made it twenty feet long by ten
wide. The walls were of iron, made of plates riveted together.
Half an hour passed. At the expiration of that time, the cabin was
illuminated by a flood of light so vivid and blinding that it was
difficult to bear the intensity.
Mont recognized the electric light that had floated round the ship when
he first saw it.
When he got used to its clear whiteness, he looked up and saw that it
proceeded from a globe which hung from the ceiling.
"Light at last; our captors are becoming more civil," said the doctor,
rubbing his hands gayly.
"It's about time, I think," answered our hero.
They were not much better off, however, for the cabin only contained a
table and five wooden stools, but the light was refreshing and made them
more cheerful.
Not a sound reached their ears; everywhere reigned the silence of the
grave.
Perhaps the ship had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, for it seemed to
have the power of going where its strange owner wished.
In a short time the door opened and two men appeared.
"Visitors at last!" murmured Mont to himself.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE OWNER OF THE SUBMARINE MONSTER.
Of the two who had entered one was a negro, with intelligent but flat
face, and short, woolly hair.
The other was a tall, handsome white man, with keen, searching eyes that
looked into the very soul.
He wore a thick mustache, whiskers, and beard, and appeared to be an
American.
He regarded the prisoners with a fixed gaze and said something to the
negro in an unknown language, which was so sweet and soft that it seemed
to be all vowels and no consonants.
At length he fixed his eyes upon the doctor, who, as the eldest of the
party, seemed to be the leader of it. The professor made a low bow.
"I presume," he said, "that I am in the presence of the proprietor of
this singular machine, and as I am a man of science I respect one who
could conceive and carry out the idea of a submarine ship."
There was no answer.
"Permit me to tell you our history," continued the professor.
Still no reply.
"He's remarkably polite," remarked Mont. "Perhaps he don't understand
our language."
"Leave him to me," said the professor; "my name may have an effect upon
him. I am Dr. Homer Woddle, Professor of Natural History, and Secretary
to the Society for the Exploration of the Unknown Parts of the World. I
have written valuable books, sir, which have been translated into
foreign languages."
The professor paused to look proudly around him.
Nothing in the face of the man before them indicated that he understood
one word.
Undaunted by this silence, the doctor continued:
"This, sir, is my friend Mr. Mont Folsom, this my friend Mr. Carl
Barnaby. The lad is their servant."
There was still no answer, and then the professor grew cross.
He spoke in French, then in German, finally in Greek and Latin; but with
the same disheartening effect.
Not a muscle of the stranger's face moved.
Turning to the right, he muttered some words in his incomprehensible
language, and, without making any reassuring sign to the prisoners,
turned on his heel and walked away, the door closing after him.
"Well, I'm blowed!" said Mont. "This is a queer go, and no mistake."
"I know one thing," said Carl; "that is, I am dying with hunger."
"If they would only give me a saucepan and some fire," said Stump, "I'd
make some soup."
"How?"
"I've got my boots, and the Unknown who came in let his sealskin cap
fall. I picked it up and sneaked it. The two together wouldn't make bad
soup."
While he spoke the door opened again, and another negro entered with a
tray upon which were four plates.
A savory smell issued from them. Knives and forks were provided, and
having placed the plates on the table the negro raised the covers.
"Food!" said Mont; "that's good."
"Not up to much, Master Mont, I'll bet," observed Stump.
"What do you know about it?"
"What can they give us? Porpoise stew, fillets of dogfish, or stewed
shark. I'd rather have some salt junk on board the ship."
The negro disappeared with the covers, and all but Stump sat down.
"Fire away, Stump," said Mont, looking at the dishes.
"After you; I can wait," replied the boy-of-all-work.
"Sit down, I tell you. When people are shipwrecked they are all equal.
Pitch in," answered Mont.
Stump sat down. There was no bread, tea, or coffee, but a bottle of
water supplied its place.
It was difficult to say what the dinner consisted of. It was a mixture
of fish and vegetable matter, but not an atom of meat.
For some time no one spoke. The business of eating was all-absorbing,
for one must eat, especially after a shipwreck.
It was consoling to reflect they were not destined to die of hunger.
"I think," exclaimed Stump, when he had finished his plate, "that they
mean to fatten us before they kill us!"
"Hold your tongue till you are spoken to," said Mont.
"Yes, sir. I know I'm only an odd boy, but----"
"Shut up, I tell you. I want to go to sleep."
"Certainly, sir. Sorry I took the liberty, but if I don't talk to
somebody I must talk to myself."
"Try it on, that's all, and if you wake me when I'm asleep, I'll give
you something for yourself. I'm just getting dry, and shall sleep like a
top," answered our hero, throwing himself in a corner.
The professor, who was worn out, had already chosen his corner.
Carl followed his example, and soon all slept.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ATTACK.
How long he slept Mont did not know.
He woke first, and saw his companions snoring like those who are
over-tired.
Nothing was changed in the apartment, except that the remains of the
dinner had been removed.
It was with difficulty that he managed to breathe, and he guessed that
he had consumed all the oxygen in his prison. His lungs were oppressed,
and the heavy air was not sufficient for proper respiration.
While Mont was arranging his toilet a valve opened in the side of the
room, and a fresh current of sea air swept into the cabin.
Evidently the vessel had ascended to the surface of the ocean and taken
in a fresh supply of air.
The others, influenced by this invigorating atmosphere, woke up, and
rubbing their eyes started to their feet.
Stump looked at Mont and asked if he had slept well.
"Pretty well. How are you, Mr. Professor?"
"I breathe the sea air, and I am content," answered Dr. Woddle. "How
long have we slept? It must be four-and-twenty hours, at least, for I am
hungry again; I cannot tell to a certainty, for my watch has stopped."
"There is one comfort," replied Mont, "we are not in the hands of
cannibals, and we shall be well treated."
"I don't know about that," said Stump. "They've got no fresh meat on
board; all they gave us yesterday was fishy stuff; and four fine, fat,
healthy fellows----"
"Shut up, Stump," cried Mont; "how often am I to tell you to hold your
tongue?"
"I know I'm only an odd boy, but----"
"Will you be quiet?" exclaimed our hero, taking up a stool
threateningly.
"All right; I won't say anything more."
The doctor was very silent and thoughtful. Mont remarked this, and said:
"How long do you think they will keep us here?"
"I can't tell any more than you, Folsom," replied the professor.
"But what is your opinion?"
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