Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“I know that, Mr Pug; I know that,” he chuckled.

“But you haven’t got the life-line attached.”

“Yah! I don’t want no life-lines,” said the old fellow. “I’ve been down too many times.”

“You don’t go down without, Rasp,” said Mr Parkley, authoritatively.

“And why not?” said the stubborn old fellow.

“Because if you like to throw your life away, I don’t choose to spare you at such a time.”

The old fellow assumed his helmet, growling and grumbling the whole time, and then, all being ready, the look-out was arranged once more for sharks, Mr Parkley held a cartridge or two ready, and Dutch took the management of the descent, watchfully minding that the tube and lines were clear. Then Rasp went down, to be seen directly after thrusting the rod here and there, and soon after commencing digging in the slow, laborious way inevitable in so dense a medium.

The water was disturbed by the continuous fountain of exhausted air bubbles that rose rapidly to the surface, but all the same Rasp’s motions could be pretty well followed, and they were scanned with great eagerness by all on deck, when suddenly the cry of sharks was raised, and the black fins of a couple of monsters were seen slowly coming up astern.

In an instant Mr Parkley ran aft, and after seeing that his wire coil would be perfectly free, he threw the cartridge with such precision that it fell between the two fish, and on the wire being applied to the battery, there was a dull report, a heavy column of water flew up in which could be seen the forms of the sharks, and as the commotion subsided they were seen swimming feebly in a stunned, helpless manner round and round, and gradually getting more distant from the schooner.

The men gave a cheer at the result, but as they did so Mr Wilson raised the cry again of “shark,” and pointed downwards where a monster was seen slowly approaching Rasp, who was working away in profound ignorance of his danger, though he had been seen to straighten himself up for a moment or two when the cartridges were exploded.

“Stand ready with the life-line,” shouted Dutch. “Keep on pumping, my lads.”

As he spoke he signalled with the cord, and Rasp faced round, to be seen to squat down directly as he drew his knife.

The scene below was very vivid, for the sun shone out so brightly that even the rivets in the copper helmet were visible, and but for a word or two of warning those whose duty it was to attend to life-line and pump would have stopped short to try and catch a glance at what was going on below.

Dutch’s stern voice brought them back to their duty, and the pump clanked, and those who held the life-line stood ready for a run forward to drag Rasp up if there was any need.

“Why,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, eagerly, “he is not ready for the monster, and it is sailing round him. I dare not send down a cartridge, as the brute will not be the only sufferer. Look, look, for heaven’s sake, Dutch! It has seized him.”

Plainly enough to be seen, as Mr Parkley spoke, the shark gave its tail a wave, turned over so that its white breast was like a flash of light in the water, and opening its large jaws it seemed to seize the diver.

At the same moment there was a tug at the signal-cord, and a sharp tug at the life-line, for Dutch gave the word, and Rasp was dragged rapidly to the surface, the shark following, and making a fresh snap at him as he was hoisted on deck.

The second snap divided the tube, which the monster caught across his jaws, but no sooner was Rasp in safety than Mr Parkley threw one of his cartridges at the shark, where it swam now round and round, with only its back fin above the water.

In an instant the creature turned on one side, and the white cartridge was seen to disappear. Then followed a touch of the wire against the hissing battery, there was a deafening report, and the schooner heaved a little over on one side, and the surface of the placid sea was covered with blood-stained fragments which were seized and borne off by a shoal of silvery-looking fish, which seemed attracted to the spot in thousands.

“What did you pull me up for?” roared Rasp, as soon as he was relieved of his helmet.

“To save your life,” was the reply.

“It’s shabby, that’s what it is,” said Rasp angrily. “No one interfered with you, Mr Dutch, when you had your turn.”

“But you signalled to be pulled up.”

“That I didn’t,” growled the old fellow. “It was that brute bit at my helmet. Has he made any marks?”

“Yes,” said Mr Parkley, lifting up the bright copper headpiece, and examining the couple of curves of sharply defined scratches which had been made by the monster’s teeth.

“Then you should have left me alone,” growled Rasp. “I should have killed that chap if I could have got my knife out of the sheath.”

“And could you not?” said Dutch.

“No. It’s a sticking fast in the sheath there, and – . Who’s took it out?” he growled, feeling his side. “Why, I must ha’ dropped it.”

The bright blade could be seen lying below, and Rasp stood grumbling and wondering how it could have happened, ending with whispering to Dutch.

“I ain’t afeard on the beggars, but don’t let out as I was took aback. I worn’t ready, you know; that’s how it was.”

Dutch nodded assent, and the subject dropped, for Rasp pulled a couple of large and two small lumps of shelly matter from his pocket, the weight of which instantly told Mr Parkley that they were ingots in the same condition as the first.

There was no doubt now about the treasure having been found, and the question discussed was whether it would be better to try and get rid of the sand by blasting, or try the slower and more laborious plan of digging it away.

This last was decided on, especially as, by blasting away the sand, the silver ingots to a great extent might be cast away with the covering. Besides which, the position of the schooner was so satisfactory that the captain was averse to its being moved, and wished, if possible, to retain it where it was. Tackle was rigged up, then, with iron buckets attached to ropes, and the afternoon was spent by Dutch and Rasp in turn in filling the buckets, which were then drawn up by the sailors and emptied beyond the ribs of the old galleon.

The filling of the buckets resulted in the discovery of many ingots, which were placed aside, and at last, after several descents, a portion of the treasure was reached, and instead of sending up sand, the buckets were filled with silver and the rough shelly concrete, though every ingot as they worked lower was more free from the adhesion, till the lower ones were almost literally blackened silver covered with sand.

Worn out with fatigue the task was at last set aside for the day, and in honour of their great success, ’Pollo’s best endeavours had been called into question to prepare what was quite a banquet, during which Mr Parkley was congratulated by his friends in turn, and afterwards, when seated in the comparative cool of the evening, the question was discussed as to there being any risk attending their proceedings.

“I don’t suppose we are right from some points of view,” said Mr Parkley, gaily. “But let’s secure all the treasure, and we’ll talk about that afterwards. We shall give you a rich cargo, Studwick.”

“I hope so,” was the reply, “but you’ll have to go on for many days at this rate before I am overloaded.”

“Wait a bit, eh, Dutch Pugh. I think we shall astonish him yet. Come, a glass of champagne, man. You are low with your accident. What are you dreaming about?”

“I was wondering,” said Dutch, quietly, “whether we ought not to take more precautions.”

“What about? Indians ashore?”

“No; sailors afloat.”

“Quite right,” said the captain.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” said Dutch, “that we must not excite the cupidity of these men by letting them see too much of the treasure, or mischief may follow. There are several fellows here whose looks I don’t like.”

“Don’t invent bugbears, Pugh,” said Mr Parkley, gaily. “We can take care of what we find, for we have plenty of arms, and I doubt very much whether the men would risk their necks by entering into anything in the shape of a mutiny. What do you say to that, eh, Studwick? Am I not right?”

“I don’t know what to say,” replied the captain. “I must confess now that I had my misgivings about some of the men at the commencement of the voyage, and, though I have seen nothing to make me suspicious, the fact of having a large freight of silver on board with such a crew as we have does not tend to make me feel quite at ease.”

“But you have not your large freight of silver on board yet,” said the doctor smiling.

“No, by jove,” exclaimed Mr Studwick; “but if they go on piling up the ingots at the rate they have been this afternoon, we shall soon have a temptation strong enough to incite a set of scoundrels to cut all our throats.”

Dutch started and shuddered.

“Come, come, gentlemen,” cried Mr Parkley, “suppose we stop all this dismal quaking. Here we have so far succeeded in our quest, and the trip bids fair to be all that can be desired, whereupon you set to inventing troubles. Come, I’ll give you a toast. Here, ‘Home, sweet home!’”