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Such boots! Stout leather, with soles of lead, securely strapped on, and weighing at least twenty pounds each. A band fitted about his waist is kept in place by strong braces.
Then his helmet! Tinned copper, and full of screws, pipes, and hooks. On the face part were three openings as in a lantern, in which were screwed plate-gla.s.ses, or bull's-eyes. These, of course, were to see through, and stood out like little telescopes, or half-tumblers, with bra.s.s frames around them called "guards" which protect the gla.s.s, that is thick and strong.
There were also queer valves, or tubes, in the helmet for letting out bad air, yet so contrived that no water could get in. A hook was on either side, through which ropes must pa.s.s.
The diver can breathe while under water by means of an air-pipe, and by pulling on a life-line, can make his wants known to those above.
When the diver is all ready to descend, a man at the pump begins supplying him with air, and down he goes, first on an iron ladder at the vessel's side, then on long ladders of rope, with heavy weights at the ends.
I peeped from midst great weed-pads, and saw the diver as he reached the bottom of the sea. Do you wonder I trembled, yet was amused at what I saw? In his hands this time--for I saw him more than once after this--was a great hook and a light bag with a wide-open mouth. And what do you think? He had come to get sponges from the blue sea. Of course not at very great depth.
He knew his work. With the long hook, sponge after sponge was torn from its clung-to home on the slippery rocks, and quickly popped into the bag. He always moved backwards. If anything stopped him, rock, wreck, or floating weeds, he could turn slowly and carefully around, and see what it was. But should he meet an object suddenly at the fore, it might break even his shielded gla.s.s. Then he must immediately give the signal to be raised aloft.
Divers must begin by going down only a little way under the water, as it takes great skill and long practice to be able to go safely into deep water. A diver has about him a coil of line connected with the ladder, which he unwinds as he moves away; but by winding it about him again, he can find his way back to the ladder.
If two divers go down at the same time, I notice they take great care not to let their air-lines or life-lines cross each other's, and so get entangled. It might be a very serious affair to get them mixed.
I see that divers may go down from either a barge, a sailing vessel, or a large yacht, but there must be a deck that can hold the necessary machines and rigging to help them in their work. By casting down heavy pieces of lead, the sailor-Folk can "sound," or tell the distance to the bottom of the sea. The diver's line must always be twice the length of the distance he goes down.
I did not find this all out at once. Oh, by no means, but by not running away I gradually learned a great deal. And I was so glad I saw the queer performance! The frightened fishes were not quick to come back to their playground, where such a looking object had come swinging down, and when he came again the next day, and the next, I had the place to myself, and watched while he pretty well cleared that region of its fine, valuable sponges.
The next time I saw a diver it was in deeper water. I was sporting to and fro at another time when there was just such a panic among the fishes as I had seen before, and just such a scramble.
Down, down came the fearsome looking object, while I mixed myself in with a ma.s.s of sea-flowers, and keeping perfectly still, was not noticed. The diver's dress was much the same as the other's had been; he went backwards in the same cautious way, but instead of a long-handled hook, he carried only a queer bag that was let down to him by ropes.
The bag was deep, and had a frame along the top, with a sc.r.a.per fastened to it. And what do you think again? He began sc.r.a.ping in all the conch-sh.e.l.ls he could see that had what looked like a dab of mud or a milky spot on the side.
He was after pearls!
Divers often fish for pearls midst oyster-beds, and in more shallow water, but there are nets or dredgers also used for that purpose. But I at once knew that very valuable pearls must often be found in conch-sh.e.l.ls and deep-sea oyster-sh.e.l.ls, as the diver sc.r.a.ped in all of both that he could find.
Remember! All kinds of sh.e.l.l-fish are called "mollusca," have white blood, and breathe not only in the water, but also in the air.
And will you believe it? I have found out considerable about the signals that a diver gives to the man at the pump on deck.
If he wants to be pulled up, be gives the life-line four sharp pulls.
If he wants more air, he gives one pull at the air-pipe. Two pulls on the life-line, and two pulls on the air-pipe, given quickly one after the other, mean that he is in trouble, and wants the help of another diver. One pull on the life-line means "all right."
There are many other signals I could not find out the meaning of, so can say nothing about. My instincts, as well as what I have noticed, tell me that a diver must be in the best of health, must be rather thin, have excellent eyesight, sound lungs, steady nerves, and a strong heart. The work is not easy. I wonder if work that pays well is often easy? I do not believe it is.
There used to be a strange machine in use called the "diving-bell." A great cast-iron cage, shaped something like a bell, let down by ropes, and so heavy that its own weight would sink it. Divers could sit inside, and fresh air was supplied by a force-pump. Bull's-eyes of heavy gla.s.s let in the light.
This must have frightened the fishes quite as much as did the diver, although it was not as frightful in appearance.
After a time, when the diver came down, some of my mates, seeing I was not a bit afraid if only hidden from sight myself, stayed near me under the broad seaweeds, but most of them fled far and wide at his approach.
The divers themselves are not free from danger. Great sea-serpents or sharks sometimes make it hot for them, but they are watchful, spry, and being "Folks," with power to think and plan, can generally look out for themselves and their safety.
CHAPTER VIII.
MY STRANGE ADVENTURE
Now come the most exciting and in some respects the hardest events of my life thus far.
I have told of my great love of music, and have also said that the Dolphin family is a very sociable one. Yes, and I could grow fond of Folks, I know, if only they could live in the sea, or I could live on the land. But as neither of these things can be, I must be content with liking them at a distance.
One afternoon I was full of sport, and felt lively as a cricket. Oh, yes, I know the small, frisky fellow you call a cricket, with his little old black legs, and have heard him sing. So on this calm and lovely afternoon I began leaping upward instead of forward, and all at once I heard sounds of music floating across the upper sea. You can believe I floundered alongside, and oh, such sweetness as trilled out into the clear air!
The truth was, a great steamer was crossing the Mediterranean with a pleasure party on board. What I heard was the music of a bra.s.s band. My!
My! Isn't it enough to delight the heart of any creature that has ears to hear? It actually would make a fish dance.
Now I didn't know it, but I made such plunges upward that my great dark body could be seen in the clear water, and some sailors began "laying"
for me, half suspecting what might happen.
Well-a-well, I got so full of music, joy, and friskiness, that all at once I gave a tremendous jump, and flounced right on to the deck of the fine steamer. Had I not been so utterly surprised, I should immediately have flounced back again to my ocean bed "quick shot," as I afterward heard a sailor say. But dear, deary me! I hesitated just a moment too long, and when I made a flop intending to bounce away, lo! a stout rope was about my body, and another about my tail, and I was a prisoner!
Then the Folks all gathered about me, and the sailors went laughing off, saying something about "making the fellow's bed."
Oh, it was all very strange and unnatural. And in a few moments I began panting for breath. Just as you would gasp, if by accident you popped over from a boat into the water. Only you would gasp for want of air, and I was gasping from too much of it.
But it was not long before I was taken to a side of the vessel, and after straining and tugging with my great weight, I was indeed bounced into water, but when I tried to swim, oh, misery! what kind of a place was I in?
Only a tank, some twenty feet long by fifteen feet wide, filled with sea water!
Truth was, there was a man-Folk on board who had caught, and wanted to carry to a great park in some far-distant land, a crocodile. Boo! a great sea-reptile that I wonder any one should want to have around, even as a curiosity. It had been taken from the river Nile in Egypt, much farther up the Mediterranean borders than I had ever been.
The crocodile did not live, so I was put into its tank, and that was the "bed" the sailors had made, by filling it with salt water. Shade of my royal grandfathers! how long I could live in such pinching quarters was a question.
I was given plenty of herring--so called--and other kinds of fish to eat, and "Folks" visited me about every hour of the day. There were children on the steamer, pretty little dears, that never tired of talking to me, and between them all, pa.s.sengers, sailors, and the children, I learned how Folks talked, and a great many other things besides.
One fine, manly little fellow visited me constantly. He was voyaging for his health, and took much pleasure in sitting beside the tank, book in hand, yet watching my movements, and once he said something that made me wish I could talk in the language of Folks. Yet before I tell what it was, I want to say that there was one thing I did not like at all, but was not able to let the Folks know it.
The sailors called me "Dolly!" A great name to give a lord of the sea, a fellow bearing the t.i.tle I owned!
The next morning after my capture, a really fine Jack--sailors are all "Jack," you know--came rolling toward my tank, and sang out in sea-breezy fashion:
"Hulloo, Dolly-me-dear, how do you find yourself to-day?"
I liked his hearty manner and cheery voice, but, dear me, I was "Dolly"
to every man-Jack on board after that, and to all the others as well.
So this dear little man once said to me:
"Oh, Dolly, how I wish you could tell me about things under the sea! I know if you could only talk my way, you could tell stories by the hour, and what pleasure it would be to listen."