"Some of the men went mad. Tried to break out. Had to show gun. Quick death outside. Here, slow death, but always the chance that--Chance, hell! There's no chance left! Just this poison that used to be air, and those things outside, watching, watching, waiting--waiting for us to leave--waiting to get us all! Waiting...." "Something's up!" said Ken Torrance suddenly. "They've got tired of waiting!" CHAPTER V _The Last Assault_ Sallorsen turned his head and followed the torpooner's intent, amazed gaze. Ken said: "There's proof of their intelligence! I've been watching--didn't realize at first. Look, here it comes!" Several sealmen, while Sallorsen had been talking, had come dropping down from the main mass of the horde, and had grouped around the abandoned torpoon which lay some feet ahead of the submarine's bow. Expertly they had loosened the seaweed-ropes which bound it to the sea-floor, then slid back, watching alertly, as if expecting the torpoon to speed away of its own accord. Its batteries, of course, had worn out weeks before, so the steel shell did net budge. The sealmen came down close to it again, and lifted it. They lifted it easily with their prehensile flipper-arms, and with maneuvering of delicate sureness guided it through the gash in the _Peary's_ bow. Inside, they hesitated with it, midway between deck and ceiling of the flooded compartment. They poised for perhaps a full minute, judging the distance, while the two men stared; and then quickly their powerful tail flippers lashed out and the torpoon jumped ahead. It sped straight through the water, to crash its tough nose of steel squarely into the quarsteel pane of the watertight door, then rebounded, and fell to the deck. "My God!" gasped Sallorsen. But Ken wasted no words then. He pressed closer to the quarsteel and examined it minutely. The substance showed no visible effect, but the action of the sealmen destroyed whatever hope he had felt. The sealmen had swerved aside at the last minute; and now, picking up the torpoon again and guiding it back to the other end of the compartment, they hurled it once more with a resounding crash into the quarsteel pane. "How long will it last under that?" Ken asked tersely. Obviously, Sallorsen's wits were muddled at this turn. He remained gaping at the creatures and at the torpoon, now turned against its mother submarine. Ken repeated the question. "How long? Who knows? It's as strong as steel, but--there's the pressure--and those blows hit one spot. Not--long." * * * * * Capping his words, there re-echoed again the loud crash of the torpoon's on the quarsteel. The sealmen were working in quick routine now; back and quickly forward, and then the crash and the reverberation; and again and again....