Brown had lugged the pneumatic raft down to the shore where he was now pumping it full: I followed with the paddles, pole, and hydroscope. When the raft had been pumped up and was afloat, we carried the reel of gossamer piano-wire aboard, followed it, pushed off, and paddled quietly through the level cobwebs of mist toward the centre of the lake. From the shore I heard a gruesome noise. It originated under one of the row of tents of the heavy artillery. Medusa, snoring, was an awesome sound in that wilderness and solitude of dawn. I was unscrewing the centre-plug from the raft and screwing into the empty socket the lens of the hydroscope and attaching the battery, while Brown started his sounding; and I was still busy when an exclamation from my companion started me: "We're breaking some records! Do you know it, Smith?" "Where is the lead?" "Three hundred fathoms and still running!" "Nonsense!" "Look at it yourself! It goes on unreeling: I've put the drag on. Hurry and adjust the hydroscope!" I sighted the powerful instrument for two thousand feet, altering it from minute to minute as Brown excitedly announced the amazing depth of the lake. When he called out four thousand feet, I stared at him. "There's something wrong--" I began. "There's _nothing_ wrong!" he interrupted. "Four thousand five hundred! Five thousand! Five thousand five hundred--" "Are you squatting there and trying to tell me that this lake is over a mile deep!" "Look for yourself!" he said in an unsteady voice. "Here is the tape! You can read, can't you? Six thousand feet--and running evenly. Six thousand five hundred!... Seven thousand! Seven thousand five--" "It _can't_ be!" I protested. But it was true. Astounded, I continued to adjust the hydroscope to a range incredible, turning the screw to focus at a mile and a half, at two miles, at two and a quarter, a half, three-quarters, three miles, three miles and a quarter--click! "Good Heavens!" he whispered. "This lake is three miles and a quarter deep!" Mechanically I set the lachet, screwed the hood firm, drew out the black eye-mask, locked it, then, kneeling on the raft I rested my face in the mask, felt for the lever, and switched on the electric light. Quicker than thought the solid lance of dazzling light plunged down through profundity, and the vast abyss of water was revealed along its pathway. Nothing moved in those tremendous depths except, nearly two miles below, a few spots of tinsel glittered and drifted like flakes of mica. At first I scarcely noticed them, supposing them to be vast beds of silvery bottom sand glittering under the electric pencil of the hydroscope. But presently it occurred to me that these brilliant specks in motion were not on the bottom--were a little less than two miles deep, and therefore suspended. To be seen at all, at two miles' depth, whatever they were they must have considerable bulk. "Do you see anything?" demanded Brown.