For several days things went
along in about the same course.
I took our position every morning
with my crude sextant; but the
results were always most unsatisfactory.
They always showed a considerable
westing when I knew that we had
been sailing due north. I blamed
my crude instrument, and kept
on. Then one afternoon the girl
came to me.
"Pardon me," she said, "but
were I you, I should watch this
man Benson--especially when he
is in charge." I asked her what
she meant, thinking I could see
the influence of von Schoenvorts
raising a suspicion against one
of my most trusted men.
"If you will note the boat's
course a half-hour after Benson
goes on duty," she said, "you
will know what I mean, and you
will understand why he prefers
a night watch. Possibly, too,
you will understand some other
things that have taken place
aboard."
Then she went back to her room,
thus ending the conversation.
I waited until half an hour after
Benson had gone on duty, and
then I went on deck, passing
through the conning-tower where
Benson sat, and looking at the
compass. It showed that our course
was north by west--that is, one
point west of north, which was,
for our assumed position, about
right. I was greatly relieved
to find that nothing was wrong,
for the girl's words had caused
me considerable apprehension.
I was about to return to my room
when a thought occurred to me
that again caused me to change
my mind--and, incidentally, came
near proving my death-warrant.
When I had left the conning-tower
little more than a half-hour
since, the sea had been breaking
over the port bow, and it seemed
to me quite improbable that in
so short a time an equally heavy
sea could be deluging us from
the opposite side of the ship--winds
may change quickly, but not a
long, heavy sea. There was only
one other solution--since I left
the tower, our course had been
altered some eight points. Turning
quickly, I climbed out upon the
conning-tower. A single glance
at the heavens confirmed my suspicions;
the constellations which should
have been dead ahead were directly
starboard. We were sailing due
west.
Just for an instant longer
I stood there to check up my
calculations--I wanted to be
quite sure before I accused Benson
of perfidy, and about the only
thing I came near making quite
sure of was death. I cannot see
even now how I escaped it. I
was standing on the edge of the
conning-tower, when a heavy palm
suddenly struck me between the
shoulders and hurled me forward
into space. The drop to the triangular
deck forward of the conning-tower
might easily have broken a leg
for me, or I might have slipped
off onto the deck and rolled
overboard; but fate was upon
my side, as I was only slightly
bruised. As I came to my feet,
I heard the conning-tower cover
slam. There is a ladder which
leads from the deck to the top
of the tower. Up this I scrambled,
as fast as I could go; but Benson
had the cover tight before I
reached it.
I stood there a moment in dumb
consternation. What did the fellow
intend? What was going on below?
If Benson was a traitor, how
could I know that there were
not other traitors among us?
I cursed myself for my folly
in going out upon the deck, and
then this thought suggested another--a
hideous one: who was it that
had really been responsible for
my being here?
Thinking to attract attention
from inside the craft, I again
ran down the ladder and onto
the small deck only to find that
the steel covers of the conning-tower
windows were shut, and then I
leaned with my back against the
tower and cursed myself for a
gullible idiot.
I glanced at the bow. The sea
seemed to be getting heavier,
for every wave now washed completely
over the lower deck. I watched
them for a moment, and then a
sudden chill pervaded my entire
being. It was not the chill of
wet clothing, or the dashing
spray which drenched my face;
no, it was the chill of the hand
of death upon my heart. In an
instant I had turned the last
corner of life's highway and
was looking God Almighty in the
face--the U-33 was being slowly
submerged!
It would be difficult, even
impossible, to set down in writing
my sensations at that moment.
All I can particularly recall
is that I laughed, though neither
from a spirit of bravado nor
from hysteria. And I wanted to
smoke. Lord! how I did want to
smoke; but that was out of the
question.
I watched the water rise until
the little deck I stood on was
awash, and then I clambered once
more to the top of the conning-tower.
From the very slow submergence
of the boat I knew that Benson
was doing the entire trick alone--that
he was merely permitting the
diving-tanks to fill and that
the diving-rudders were not in
use. The throbbing of the engines
ceased, and in its stead came
the steady vibration of the electric
motors. The water was halfway
up the conning-tower! I had perhaps
five minutes longer on the deck.
I tried to decide what I should
do after I was washed away. Should
I swim until exhaustion claimed
me, or should I give up and end
the agony at the first plunge?
From below came two muffled
reports. They sounded not unlike
shots. Was Benson meeting with
resistance? Personally it could
mean little to me, for even though
my men might overcome the enemy,
none would know of my predicament
until long after it was too late
to succor me. The top of the
conning-tower was now awash.
I clung to the wireless mast,
while the great waves surged
sometimes completely over me.
I knew the end was near and,
almost involuntarily, I did that
which I had not done since childhood--I
prayed. After that I felt better.
I clung and waited, but the
water rose no higher.
Instead it receded. Now the
top of the conning-tower received
only the crests of the higher
waves; now the little triangular
deck below became visible! What
had occurred within? Did Benson
believe me already gone, and
was he emerging because of that
belief, or had he and his forces
been vanquished? The suspense
was more wearing than that which
I had endured while waiting for
dissolution. Presently the main
deck came into view, and then
the conning-tower opened behind
me, and I turned to look into
the anxious face of Bradley.
An expression of relief overspread
his features.
"Thank God, man!" was
all he said as he reached forth
and
dragged me into the tower. I
was cold and numb and rather
all in. Another few minutes would
have done for me, I am sure,
but the warmth of the interior
helped to revive me, aided and
abetted by some brandy which
Bradley poured down my throat,
from which it nearly removed
the membrane. That brandy would
have revived a corpse.
When I got down into the centrale,
I saw the Germans lined up on
one side with a couple of my
men with pistols standing over
them. Von Schoenvorts was among
them. On the floor lay Benson,
moaning, and beyond him stood
the girl, a revolver in one hand.
I looked about, bewildered.
"What has happened down here?" I
asked. "Tell me!"
Bradley replied. "You see the
result, sir," he said. "It might
have been a very different result
but for Miss La Rue. We were
all asleep. Benson had relieved
the guard early in the evening;
there was no one to watch him--no
one but Miss La Rue. She felt
the submergence of the boat and
came out of her room to investigate.
She was just in time to see Benson
at the diving rudders. When he
saw her, he raised his pistol
and fired point-blank at her,
but he missed and she fired--and
didn't miss. The two shots awakened
everyone, and as our men were
armed, the result was inevitable
as you see it; but it would have
been very different had it not
been for Miss La Rue. It was
she who closed the diving-tank
sea-cocks and roused Olson and
me, and had the pumps started
to empty them."
And there I had been thinking
that through her machinations
I had been lured to the deck
and to my death! I could have
gone on my knees to her and begged
her forgiveness--or at least
I could have, had I not been
Anglo-Saxon. As it was, I could
only remove my soggy cap and
bow and mumble my appreciation.
She made no reply--only turned
and walked very rapidly toward
her room. Could I have heard
aright? Was it really a sob that
came floating back to me through
the narrow aisle of the U-33?
Benson died that night. He
remained defiant almost to the
last; but just before he went
out, he motioned to me, and I
leaned over to catch the faintly
whispered words.
"I did it alone," he said. "I
did it because I hate you--I
hate all your kind. I was kicked
out of your shipyard at Santa
Monica. I was locked out of California.
I am an I. W. W. I became a German
agent--not because I love them,
for I hate them too--but because
I wanted to injure Americans,
whom I hated more. I threw the
wireless apparatus overboard.
I destroyed the chronometer and
the sextant. I devised a scheme
for varying the compass to suit
my wishes. I told Wilson that
I had seen the girl talking with
von Schoenvorts, and I made the
poor egg think he had seen her
doing the same thing. I am sorry--sorry
that my plans failed. I hate
you."
He didn't die
for a half-hour after that;
nor did he speak
again--aloud; but just a few
seconds before he went to meet
his Maker, his lips moved in
a faint whisper; and as I leaned
closer to catch his words, what
do you suppose I heard? "Now--I--lay
me--down--to--sleep" That was
all; Benson was dead. We threw
his body overboard.
The wind of that night brought
on some pretty rough weather
with a lot of black clouds which
persisted for several days. We
didn't know what course we had
been holding, and there was no
way of finding out, as we could
no longer trust the compass,
not knowing what Benson had done
to it. The long and the short
of it was that we cruised about
aimlessly until the sun came
out again. I'll never forget
that day or its surprises. We
reckoned, or rather guessed,
that we were somewhere off the
coast of Peru. The wind, which
had been blowing fitfully from
the east, suddenly veered around
into the south, and presently
we felt a sudden chill.
"Peru!" snorted Olson. "When
were yez after smellin' iceber-rgs
off Peru?"
Icebergs! "Icebergs, nothin'!" exclaimed
one of the Englishmen. "Why,
man, they don't come north of
fourteen here in these waters."
"Then," replied Olson, "ye're
sout' of fourteen, me b'y."
We thought
he was crazy; but he wasn't,
for that afternoon
we sighted a great berg south
of us, and we'd been running
north, we thought, for days.
I can tell you we were a discouraged
lot; but we got a faint thrill
of hope early the next morning
when the lookout bawled down
the open hatch: "Land! Land northwest
by west!"
I think we
were all sick for the sight
of land. I know that
I was; but my interest was quickly
dissipated by the sudden illness
of three of the Germans. Almost
simultaneously they commenced
vomiting. They couldn't suggest
any explanation for it. I asked
them what they had eaten, and
found they had eaten nothing
other than the food cooked for
all of us. "Have you drunk anything?" I
asked, for I knew that there
was liquor aboard, and medicines
in the same locker.
"Only water," moaned one of
them. "We all drank water together
this morning. We opened a new
tank. Maybe it was the water."
I started an investigation
which revealed a terrifying condition--
some one, probably Benson, had
poisoned all the running water
on the ship. It would have been
worse, though, had land not been
in sight. The sight of land filled
us with renewed hope.
Our course had been altered,
and we were rapidly approaching
what appeared to be a precipitous
headland. Cliffs, seemingly rising
perpendicularly out of the sea,
faded away into the mist upon
either hand as we approached.
The land before us might have
been a continent, so mighty appeared
the shoreline; yet we knew that
we must be thousands of miles
from the nearest western land-mass--New
Zealand or Australia.
We took our bearings with our
crude and inaccurate instruments;
we searched the chart; we cudgeled
our brains; and at last it was
Bradley who suggested a solution.
He was in the tower and watching
the compass, to which he called
my attention. The needle was
pointing straight toward the
land. Bradley swung the helm
hard to starboard. I could feel
the U-33 respond, and yet the
arrow still clung straight and
sure toward the distant cliffs.
"What do you make of it?" I
asked him.
"Did you ever hear of Caproni?" he
asked.
"An early Italian navigator?" I
returned.
"Yes; he followed
Cook about 1721. He is scarcely
mentioned
even by contemporaneous historians--probably
because he got into political
difficulties on his return to
Italy. It was the fashion to
scoff at his claims, but I recall
reading one of his works--his
only one, I believe--in which
he described a new continent
in the south seas, a continent
made up of `some strange metal'
which attracted the compass;
a rockbound, inhospitable coast,
without beach or harbor, which
extended for hundreds of miles.
He could make no landing; nor
in the several days he cruised
about it did he see sign of life.
He called it Caprona and sailed
away. I believe, sir, that we
are looking upon the coast of
Caprona, uncharted and forgotten
for two hundred years."
"If you are right, it might
account for much of the deviation
of the compass during the past
two days," I suggested. "Caprona
has been luring us upon her deadly
rocks. Well, we'll accept her
challenge. We'll land upon Caprona.
Along that long front there must
be a vulnerable spot. We will
find it, Bradley, for we must
find it. We must find water on
Caprona, or we must die."
And so we approached the coast
upon which no living eyes had
ever rested. Straight from the
ocean's depths rose towering
cliffs, shot with brown and blues
and greens--withered moss and
lichen and the verdigris of copper,
and everywhere the rusty ocher
of iron pyrites. The cliff-tops,
though ragged, were of such uniform
height as to suggest the boundaries
of a great plateau, and now and
again we caught glimpses of verdure
topping the rocky escarpment,
as though bush or jungle-land
had pushed outward from a lush
vegetation farther inland to
signal to an unseeing world that
Caprona lived and joyed in life
beyond her austere and repellent
coast.
But metaphor, however poetic,
never slaked a dry throat. To
enjoy Caprona's romantic suggestions
we must have water, and so we
came in close, always sounding,
and skirted the shore. As close
in as we dared cruise, we found
fathomless depths, and always
the same undented coastline of
bald cliffs. As darkness threatened,
we drew away and lay well off
the coast all night. We had not
as yet really commenced to suffer
for lack of water; but I knew
that it would not be long before
we did, and so at the first streak
of dawn I moved in again and
once more took up the hopeless
survey of the forbidding coast.
Toward noon we discovered a
beach, the first we had seen.
It was a narrow strip of sand
at the base of a part of the
cliff that seemed lower than
any we had before scanned. At
its foot, half buried in the
sand, lay great boulders, mute
evidence that in a bygone age
some mighty natural force had
crumpled Caprona's barrier at
this point. It was Bradley who
first called our attention to
a strange object lying among
the boulders above the surf.
"Looks like a man," he
said, and passed his glasses
to me.
I looked long and carefully
and could have sworn that the
thing I saw was the sprawled
figure of a human being. Miss
La Rue was on deck with us. I
turned and asked her to go below.
Without a word she did as I bade.
Then I stripped, and as I did
so, Nobs looked questioningly
at me. He had been wont at home
to enter the surf with me, and
evidently he had not forgotten
it.
"What are you going to do,
sir?" asked Olson.
"I'm going to see what that
thing is on shore," I replied. "If
it's a man, it may mean that
Caprona is inhabited, or it may
merely mean that some poor devils
were shipwrecked here. I ought
to be able to tell from the clothing
which is more near the truth.
"How about sharks?" queried
Olson. "Sure, you ought to carry
a knoife."
"Here you are, sir," cried
one of the men.
It was a long slim blade he
offered--one that I could carry
between my teeth--and so I accepted
it gladly.
"Keep close in," I
directed Bradley, and then
I dived over
the side and struck out for the
narrow beach. There was another
splash directly behind me, and
turning my head, I saw faithful
old Nobs swimming valiantly in
my wake.
The surf was not heavy, and
there was no undertow, so we
made shore easily, effecting
an equally easy landing. The
beach was composed largely of
small stones worn smooth by the
action of water. There was little
sand, though from the deck of
the U-33 the beach had appeared
to be all sand, and I saw no
evidences of mollusca or crustacea
such as are common to all beaches
I have previously seen. I attribute
this to the fact of the smallness
of the beach, the enormous depth
of surrounding water and the
great distance at which Caprona
lies from her nearest neighbor.
As Nobs and I approached the
recumbent figure farther up the
beach, I was appraised by my
nose that whether or not, the
thing had once been organic and
alive, but that for some time
it had been dead. Nobs halted,
sniffed and growled. A little
later he sat down upon his haunches,
raised his muzzle to the heavens
and bayed forth a most dismal
howl. I shied a small stone at
him and bade him shut up--his
uncanny noise made me nervous.
When I had come quite close to
the thing, I still could not
say whether it had been man or
beast. The carcass was badly
swollen and partly decomposed.
There was no sign of clothing
upon or about it. A fine, brownish
hair covered the chest and abdomen,
and the face, the palms of the
hands, the feet, the shoulders
and back were practically hairless.
The creature must have been about
the height of a fair sized man;
its features were similar to
those of a man; yet had it been
a man?
I could not say, for it resembled
an ape no more than it did a
man. Its large toes protruded
laterally as do those of the
semiarboreal peoples of Borneo,
the Philippines and other remote
regions where low types still
persist. The countenance might
have been that of a cross between
Pithecanthropus, the Java ape-man,
and a daughter of the Piltdown
race of prehistoric Sussex. A
wooden cudgel lay beside the
corpse.
Now this fact set me thinking.
There was no wood of any description
in sight. There was nothing about
the beach to suggest a wrecked
mariner. There was absolutely
nothing about the body to suggest
that it might possibly in life
have known a maritime experience.
It was the body of a low type
of man or a high type of beast.
In neither instance would it
have been of a seafaring race.
Therefore I deduced that it was
native to Caprona--that it lived
inland, and that it had fallen
or been hurled from the cliffs
above. Such being the case, Caprona
was inhabitable, if not inhabited,
by man; but how to reach the
inhabitable interior! That was
the question. A closer view of
the cliffs than had been afforded
me from the deck of the U-33
only confirmed my conviction
that no mortal man could scale
those perpendicular heights;
there was not a finger-hold,
not a toe-hold, upon them. I
turned away baffled.
Nobs and I met with no sharks
upon our return journey to the
submarine. My report filled everyone
with theories and speculations,
and with renewed hope and determination.
They all reasoned along the same
lines that I had reasoned--the
conclusions were obvious, but
not the water. We were now thirstier
than ever.
The balance of that day we
spent in continuing a minute
and fruitless exploration of
the monotonous coast. There was
not another break in the frowning
cliffs--not even another minute
patch of pebbly beach. As the
sun fell, so did our spirits.
I had tried to make advances
to the girl again; but she would
have none of me, and so I was
not only thirsty but otherwise
sad and downhearted. I was glad
when the new day broke the hideous
spell of a sleepless night.
The morning's
search brought us no shred
of hope. Caprona
was impregnable--that was the
decision of all; yet we kept
on. It must have been about two
bells of the afternoon watch
that Bradley called my attention
to the branch of a tree, with
leaves upon it, floating on the
sea. "It may have been carried
down to the ocean by a river," he
suggested. "Yes, " I replied, "it
may have; it may have tumbled
or been thrown off the top of
one of these cliffs."
Bradley's face
fell. "I thought
of that, too," he replied, "but
I wanted to believe the other."
"Right you are!" I cried. "We
must believe the other until
we prove it false. We can't afford
to give up heart now, when we
need heart most. The branch was
carried down by a river, and
we are going to find that river." I
smote my open palm with a clenched
fist, to emphasize a determination
unsupported by hope. "There!" I
cried suddenly. "See that, Bradley?" And
I pointed at a spot closer to
shore. "See that, man!" Some
flowers and grasses and another
leafy branch floated toward us.
We both scanned the water and
the coastline. Bradley evidently
discovered something, or at least
thought that he had. He called
down for a bucket and a rope,
and when they were passed up
to him, he lowered the former
into the sea and drew it in filled
with water. Of this he took a
taste, and straightening up,
looked into my eyes with an expression
of elation--as much as to say "I
told you so!"
"This water is warm," he announced, "and
fresh!"
I grabbed the bucket and tasted
its contents. The water was very
warm, and it was fresh, but there
was a most unpleasant taste to
it.
"Did you ever taste water from
a stagnant pool full of tadpoles?" Bradley
asked.
"That's it," I exclaimed, "--that's
just the taste exactly, though
I haven't experienced it since
boyhood; but how can water from
a flowing stream, taste thus,
and what the dickens makes it
so warm? It must be at least
70 or 80 Fahrenheit, possibly
higher."
"Yes," agreed Bradley, "I
should say higher; but where
does it
come from?"
"That is easily discovered
now that we have found it," I
answered. "It can't come from
the ocean; so it must come from
the land. All that we have to
do is follow it, and sooner or
later we shall come upon its
source."
We were already rather close
in; but I ordered the U-33's
prow turned inshore and we crept
slowly along, constantly dipping
up the water and tasting it to
assure ourselves that we didn't
get outside the fresh-water current.
There was a very light off-shore
wind and scarcely any breakers,
so that the approach to the shore
was continued without finding
bottom; yet though we were already
quite close, we saw no indication
of any indention in the coast
from which even a tiny brooklet
might issue, and certainly no
mouth of a large river such as
this must necessarily be to freshen
the ocean even two hundred yards
from shore. The tide was running
out, and this, together with
the strong flow of the freshwater
current, would have prevented
our going against the cliffs
even had we not been under power;
as it was we had to buck the
combined forces in order to hold
our position at all. We came
up to within twenty-five feet
of the sheer wall, which loomed
high above us. There was no break
in its forbidding face. As we
watched the face of the waters
and searched the cliff's high
face, Olson suggested that the
fresh water might come from a
submarine geyser. This, he said,
would account for its heat; but
even as he spoke a bush, covered
thickly with leaves and flowers,
bubbled to the surface and floated
off astern.
"Flowering shrubs don't thrive
in the subterranean caverns from
which geysers spring," suggested
Bradley.
Olson shook
his head. "It beats
me," he said.
"I've got it!" I exclaimed
suddenly. "Look there!" And I
pointed at the base of the cliff
ahead of us, which the receding
tide was gradually exposing to
our view. They all looked, and
all saw what I had seen--the
top of a dark opening in the
rock, through which water was
pouring out into the sea. "It's
the subterranean channel of an
inland river," I cried. "It flows
through a land covered with vegetation--and
therefore a land upon which the
sun shines. No subterranean caverns
produce any order of plant life
even remotely resembling what
we have seen disgorged by this
river. Beyond those cliffs lie
fertile lands and fresh water--perhaps,
game!"
"Yis, sir," said Olson, "behoind
the cliffs! Ye spoke a true word,
sir--behoind!"
Bradley laughed--a
rather sorry laugh, though. "You might as
well call our attention to the
fact, sir," he said, "that science
has indicated that there is fresh
water and vegetation on Mars."
"Not at all," I rejoined. "A
U-boat isn't constructed to navigate
space, but it is designed to
travel below the surface of the
water."
"You'd be after sailin' into
that blank pocket?" asked Olson.
"I would, Olson," I replied. "We
haven't one chance for life in
a hundred thousand if we don't
find food and water upon Caprona.
This water coming out of the
cliff is not salt; but neither
is it fit to drink, though each
of us has drunk. It is fair to
assume that inland the river
is fed by pure streams, that
there are fruits and herbs and
game. Shall we lie out here and
die of thirst and starvation
with a land of plenty possibly
only a few hundred yards away?
We have the means for navigating
a subterranean river. Are we
too cowardly to utilize this
means?"
"Be afther goin' to it," said
Olson.
"I'm willing to see it through," agreed
Bradley.
"Then under the bottom, wi'
the best o' luck an' give 'em
hell!" cried a young fellow who
had been in the trenches.
"To the diving-stations!" I
commanded, and in less than a
minute the deck was deserted,
the conning-tower covers had
slammed to and the U-33 was submerging--possibly
for the last time. I know that
I had this feeling, and I think
that most of the others did.
As we went down, I sat in the
tower with the searchlight projecting
its seemingly feeble rays ahead.
We submerged very slowly and
without headway more than sufficient
to keep her nose in the right
direction, and as we went down,
I saw outlined ahead of us the
black opening in the great cliff.
It was an opening that would
have admitted a half-dozen U-boats
at one and the same time, roughly
cylindrical in contour--and dark
as the pit of perdition.
As I gave the command which
sent the U-33 slowly ahead, I
could not but feel a certain
uncanny presentiment of evil.
Where were we going? What lay
at the end of this great sewer?
Had we bidden farewell forever
to the sunlight and life, or
were there before us dangers
even greater than those which
we now faced? I tried to keep
my mind from vain imagining by
calling everything which I observed
to the eager ears below. I was
the eyes of the whole company,
and I did my best not to fail
them. We had advanced a hundred
yards, perhaps, when our first
danger confronted us. Just ahead
was a sharp right-angle turn
in the tunnel. I could see the
river's flotsam hurtling against
the rocky wall upon the left
as it was driven on by the mighty
current, and I feared for the
safety of the U-33 in making
so sharp a turn under such adverse
conditions; but there was nothing
for it but to try. I didn't warn
my fellows of the danger--it
could have but caused them useless
apprehension, for if we were
to be smashed against the rocky
wall, no power on earth could
avert the quick end that would
come to us. I gave the command
full speed ahead and went charging
toward the menace. I was forced
to approach the dangerous left-hand
wall in order to make the turn,
and I depended upon the power
of the motors to carry us through
the surging waters in safety.
Well, we made it; but it was
a narrow squeak. As we swung
around, the full force of the
current caught us and drove the
stern against the rocks; there
was a thud which sent a tremor
through the whole craft, and
then a moment of nasty grinding
as the steel hull scraped the
rock wall. I expected momentarily
the inrush of waters that would
seal our doom; but presently
from below came the welcome word
that all was well.
In another fifty yards there
was a second turn, this time
toward the left! but it was more
of a gentle curve, and we took
it without trouble. After that
it was plain sailing, though
as far as I could know, there
might be most anything ahead
of us, and my nerves strained
to the snapping-point every instant.
After the second turn the channel
ran comparatively straight for
between one hundred and fifty
and two hundred yards. The waters
grew suddenly lighter, and my
spirits rose accordingly. I shouted
down to those below that I saw
daylight ahead, and a great shout
of thanksgiving reverberated
through the ship. A moment later
we emerged into sunlit water,
and immediately I raised the
periscope and looked about me
upon the strangest landscape
I had ever seen.
We were in the middle of a
broad and now sluggish river
the banks of which were lined
by giant, arboraceous ferns,
raising their mighty fronds fifty,
one hundred, two hundred feet
into the quiet air. Close by
us something rose to the surface
of the river and dashed at the
periscope. I had a vision of
wide, distended jaws, and then
all was blotted out. A shiver
ran down into the tower as the
thing closed upon the periscope.
A moment later it was gone, and
I could see again. Above the
trees there soared into my vision
a huge thing on batlike wings--a
creature large as a large whale,
but fashioned more after the
order of a lizard. Then again
something charged the periscope
and blotted out the mirror. I
will confess that I was almost
gasping for breath as I gave
the commands to emerge. Into
what sort of strange land had
fate guided us?
The instant the deck was awash,
I opened the conning-tower hatch
and stepped out. In another minute
the deck-hatch lifted, and those
who were not on duty below streamed
up the ladder, Olson bringing
Nobs under one arm. For several
minutes no one spoke; I think
they must each have been as overcome
by awe as was I. All about us
was a flora and fauna as strange
and wonderful to us as might
have been those upon a distant
planet had we suddenly been miraculously
transported through ether to
an unknown world. Even the grass
upon the nearer bank was unearthly--lush
and high it grew, and each blade
bore upon its tip a brilliant
flower-- violet or yellow or
carmine or blue--making as gorgeous
a sward as human imagination
might conceive. But the life!
It teemed. The tall, fernlike
trees were alive with monkeys,
snakes, and lizards. Huge insects
hummed and buzzed hither and
thither. Mighty forms could be
seen moving upon the ground in
the thick forest, while the bosom
of the river wriggled with living
things, and above flapped the
wings of gigantic creatures such
as we are taught have been extinct
throughout countless ages.
"Look!" cried Olson. "Would
you look at the giraffe comin'
up out o' the bottom of the say?" We
looked in the direction he pointed
and saw a long, glossy neck surmounted
by a small head rising above
the surface of the river. Presently
the back of the creature was
exposed, brown and glossy as
the water dripped from it. It
turned its eyes upon us, opened
its lizard-like mouth, emitted
a shrill hiss and came for us.
The thing must have been sixteen
or eighteen feet in length and
closely resembled pictures I
had seen of restored plesiosaurs
of the lower Jurassic. It charged
us as savagely as a mad bull,
and one would have thought it
intended to destroy and devour
the mighty U-boat, as I verily
believe it did intend.
We were moving slowly up the
river as the creature bore down
upon us with distended jaws.
The long neck was far outstretched,
and the four flippers with which
it swam were working with powerful
strokes, carrying it forward
at a rapid pace. When it reached
the craft's side, the jaws closed
upon one of the stanchions of
the deck rail and tore it from
its socket as though it had been
a toothpick stuck in putty. At
this exhibition of titanic strength
I think we all simultaneously
stepped backward, and Bradley
drew his revolver and fired.
The bullet struck the thing in
the neck, just above its body;
but instead of disabling it,
merely increased its rage. Its
hissing rose to a shrill scream
as it raised half its body out
of water onto the sloping sides
of the hull of the U-33 and endeavored
to scramble upon the deck to
devour us. A dozen shots rang
out as we who were armed drew
our pistols and fired at the
thing; but though struck several
times, it showed no signs of
succumbing and only floundered
farther aboard the submarine.
I had noticed that the girl
had come on deck and was standing
not far behind me, and when I
saw the danger to which we were
all exposed, I turned and forced
her toward the hatch. We had
not spoken for some days, and
we did not speak now; but she
gave me a disdainful look, which
was quite as eloquent as words,
and broke loose from my grasp.
I saw I could do nothing with
her unless I exerted force, and
so I turned with my back toward
her that I might be in a position
to shield her from the strange
reptile should it really succeed
in reaching the deck; and as
I did so I saw the thing raise
one flipper over the rail, dart
its head forward and with the
quickness of lightning seize
upon one of the boches. I ran
forward, discharging my pistol
into the creature's body in an
effort to force it to relinquish
its prey; but I might as profitably
have shot at the sun.
Shrieking and
screaming, the German was dragged
from the deck,
and the moment the reptile was
clear of the boat, it dived beneath
the surface of the water with
its terrified prey. I think we
were all more or less shaken
by the frightfulness o the tragedy--until
Olson remarked that the balance
of power now rested where it
belonged. Following the death
of Benson we had been nine and
nine--nine Germans and nine "Allies," as
we called ourselves, now there
were but eight Germans. We never
counted the girl on either side,
I suppose because she was a girl,
though we knew well enough now
that she was ours.
And so Olson's remark helped
to clear the atmosphere for the
Allies at least, and then our
attention was once more directed
toward the river, for around
us there had sprung up a perfect
bedlam of screams and hisses
and a seething caldron of hideous
reptiles, devoid of fear and
filled only with hunger and with
rage. They clambered, squirmed
and wriggled to the deck, forcing
us steadily backward, though
we emptied our pistols into them.
There were all sorts and conditions
of horrible things--huge, hideous,
grotesque, monstrous--a veritable
Mesozoic nightmare. I saw that
the girl was gotten below as
quickly as possible, and she
took Nobs with her--poor Nobs
had nearly barked his head off;
and I think, too, that for the
first time since his littlest
puppyhood he had known fear;
nor can I blame him. After the
girl I sent Bradley and most
of the Allies and then the Germans
who were on deck--von Schoenvorts
being still in irons below.
The creatures were approaching
perilously close before I dropped
through the hatchway and slammed
down the cover. Then I went into
the tower and ordered full speed
ahead, hoping to distance the
fearsome things; but it was useless.
Not only could any of them easily
outdistance the U-33, but the
further upstream we progressed
the greater the number of our
besiegers, until fearful of navigating
a strange river at high speed,
I gave orders to reduce and moved
slowly and majestically through
the plunging, hissing mass. I
was mighty glad that our entrance
into the interior of Caprona
had been inside a submarine rather
than in any other form of vessel.
I could readily understand how
it might have been that Caprona
had been invaded in the past
by venturesome navigators without
word of it ever reaching the
outside world, for I can assure
you that only by submarine could
man pass up that great sluggish
river, alive.
We proceeded up the river for
some forty miles before darkness
overtook us. I was afraid to
submerge and lie on the bottom
overnight for fear that the mud
might be deep enough to hold
us, and as we could not hold
with the anchor, I ran in close
to shore, and in a brief interim
of attack from the reptiles we
made fast to a large tree. We
also dipped up some of the river
water and found it, though quite
warm, a little sweeter than before.
We had food enough, and with
the water we were all quite refreshed;
but we missed fresh meat. It
had been weeks, now, since we
had tasted it, and the sight
of the reptiles gave me an idea--that
a steak or two from one of them
might not be bad eating. So I
went on deck with a rifle, twenty
of which were aboard the U-33.
At sight of me a huge thing charged
and climbed to the deck. I retreated
to the top of the conning-tower,
and when it had raised its mighty
bulk to the level of the little
deck on which I stood, I let
it have a bullet right between
the eyes.
The thing stopped
then and looked at me a moment
as much
as to say: "Why this thing has
a stinger! I must be careful." And
then it reached out its long
neck and opened its mighty jaws
and grabbed for me; but I wasn't
there. I had tumbled backward
into the tower, and I mighty
near killed myself doing it.
When I glanced up, that little
head on the end of its long neck
was coming straight down on top
of me, and once more I tumbled
into greater safety, sprawling
upon the floor of the centrale.
Olson was looking up, and seeing
what was poking about in the
tower, ran for an ax; nor did
he hesitate a moment when he
returned with one, but sprang
up the ladder and commenced chopping
away at that hideous face. The
thing didn't have sufficient
brainpan to entertain more than
a single idea at once. Though
chopped and hacked, and with
a bullethole between its eyes,
it still persisted madly in its
attempt to get inside the tower
and devour Olson, though its
body was many times the diameter
of the hatch; nor did it cease
its efforts until after Olson
had succeeded in decapitating
it. Then the two men went on
deck through the main hatch,
and while one kept watch, the
other cut a hind quarter off
Plesiosaurus Olsoni, as Bradley
dubbed the thing. Meantime Olson
cut off the long neck, saying
that it would make fine soup.
By the time we had cleared away
the blood and refuse in the tower,
the cook had juicy steaks and
a steaming broth upon the electric
stove, and the aroma arising
from P. Olsoni filled us an with
a hitherto unfelt admiration
for him and all his kind.
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