Dutch the Diver; Or, A Man's MistakeFenn, George Manville
General
Dutch the Diver; Or, A Man's Mistake
Fenn, George Manville
Adventure stories; Deep diving -- Fiction; Treasure troves -- Fiction
But interesting as it was to those on deck, it was perhaps more so to
Dutch, who, as soon as he had assumed his helmet and began to descend,
threw off all thought of his domestic troubles by a strong effort of his
will, and, feeling that the success or ill-success of the expedition
depended upon him, he set to work eagerly to solve the question of the
treasure. He had been down too many times to feel nervous, but, all the
same, an unwonted tremor, which he ascribed to disease, oppressed him as
he slowly went down from round to round; but as he reached the bottom
this also passed off, and finding that he was well supplied with air,
and that all worked well, he began to consider how he should act. This
confidence arose in a great measure from the knowledge that both Mr
Parkley and old Rasp were watching over his safety, and feeling that his
knife could be easily drawn from his belt, he began to look about him.
All was beautifully clear; and though the motion of his heavy boots
stirred up the sand, it sank down again directly without thickening the
water. A few yards away was the ladder, and above it, with the air-tube
and two ropes plainly seen running up, was the schooner, casting a dark
shadow on to the bottom. Even his own shadow was cast behind him, and
it seemed as if he were only walking in a medium of thickened air. He
could even make out the faces of those gazing over the side, but in a
blurred, distorted way, for the bright bubbles of air that ran up in a
stream made the water seem heavy overhead, though all around it was
clearness itself.
His first thoughts were naturally of the sharks, but he could see
nothing to fear, though he had made up his mind if one should attack him
to take advantage of its sluggish action, and, instead of trying to
escape, thrust boldly at the monster with his knife.
As he was looking about there was a flash of many colours through the
water, and then it seemed as if the gold and silver ingots he had come
in search of had become animated, for a shoal of fish, whose scales were
burnished metal in appearance, suddenly darted about him, coming close
up to his helmet as he remained stationary, as if in wonder at his
appearance; but on his raising his arm there was a rush, the water
quivered for a moment, and, like streaks of the rich metals he sought,
they disappeared.
So beautiful was the scene around him--the soft sunshine, the delicious
tint of the water, and the long vistas in the distance of wondrous sea
growths, which ran up six, twelve, and fourteen feet towards the
surface, all aglow with the most lovely tints--that the desire was
strong upon him to walk on beyond the portion of the bottom that had
been swept by the dynamite, and gaze upon the various natural objects
around. But he had sterner work on hand, and set himself to investigate
the appearance of the old hull, in whose interior he was.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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