But it was only for a few feet. The indicator slacked up, fluttered, stopped dead. And then--without the husky tank boy to lift a finger--we heard the rumph-h and rumbling of the valve-seats as the sea-water was driven out of her ballast-tanks; and then up she started. Soon there she was--did it all by herself--atop of the water. And the face of the young fellow of the automatic devices was like the face of the devout missionary who has just put something over on the heathen. Later, when you express the feeling of almost holy comfort which these little automatic safety devices give you, the manager--the same with the stop-watch and the note-book--says, "Puh! Look here," and sits down and details--drawing good working plans of them on a pad while he talks--three different ways by which a submarine crew can beat the game should any evil happen to the ordinary and regular means of getting to the surface. She has a turn at porpoising then; that is from a moderate depth the diving-rudder man shoots her near enough to the surface for the captain to have a look through the periscope--a long-enough look to plot the enemy on a chart, but not long enough to give that enemy much of a chance to pick him up; and then under again. And then up for another peek; and quickly under again, the captain at the periscope taking each time a fresh bearing of the enemy, who is supposed to be at some distance and steaming at good speed. After two or three such quick sights, changing course after each sight, it will be time to discharge a torpedo or two at her. And--the layman may note it--with expert men at the periscope and diving-rudder, a porpoising sub can sight, discharge her torpedo, and dive--all within five seconds. Steaming back to harbor after our trial run that day, we caught the first rip of the gale which the gummed-over moon and the low barometer had forecast the night before. It was too rough to tie her up to the supply-ship, so the sub was anchored--they carry anchors too--a short distance away, with three men left on her for an anchor watch, the idea being to take them off later for a hot meal. But after the rest of us were safe and warm and well fed aboard the mother ship, the increasing winds came bowling over the increasing seas, and the crew of the sub had to wait. At intervals we could hear them emitting beseeching, doleful, disgusted moans and shrieks and howls from her air-whistle. But it was too rough for any little choo-choo boat to be battling around. It was 9.30 that night before they could safely be taken off. They were a moderately good-natured lot; but that was the blear-eyed trouble with making sub trial trips with bad weather coming on--a man never knew about his regular meals.