“Deep four!” reported Dick, and began coiling up the line. The submarine was rubbing against the rocks, and there was no room to cast.
“Good luck,” said Bob gleefully, “even if it does come out of a damaged propeller. We can pass a couple of cables ashore and tie up to the rocks. On deck, Speake!” he called through the hatch. “There’s some old hose and canvas in the storeroom, and you, and Clackett and Gaines had better bring it up. Fetch a couple of cables at the same time.”
Bob leaped to a shelf notched out of one of the rocks, climbed to the top of the bowlder, and picked out the stones most convenient for mooring. When the cables were brought up and bent to their stanchions, the spare ends were passed ashore. While he was making them fast, Clackett, Gaines, Speake, and Carl were festooning the old hose over the submarine’s side and padding the plates with canvas blankets as fenders against the jagged rocks.
“Now,” called Bob, talking from the top of a bowlder and looking down on the deck of the Grampus, “the next thing is to weight the forward part of the boat so that the propeller will be thrown up clear of the water. Move everything possible from aft. If the anchor has taken hold, a little pulling on the chain may help. If this don’t fill the bill, then we’ll pile rocks on the bow and force it under that way. Now, then, get busy, all hands.”
Speake, Carl, Gaines, and Clackett went below. Bob began tossing loose stones to Dick, and he built them up forward of the flagstaff, passing ropes around the pile in order to hold it to the deck when the boat began to cant forward.
By degrees the bow went deeper and deeper, and the stern rose. At last, after some two hours of trying work, the propeller was brought into view. The blades were fairly buried in a mass of ropy seaweed.
Bob gave vent to a relieved laugh.
“It won’t be necessary to ship a new propeller, after all,” said he. “Traveling under the Amazon is hard on the screw. That bar was covered with seaweed, and the propeller twisted itself up in it. Pass a rope aft and secure it to the periscope guys. You can hang to the rope, Dick, slip over the stern, and cut away the grass.”
“Easy enough,” answered Dick, dropping on the deck to pull off his shoes and stockings, and roll up his trousers. “We’ll clear away that propeller in a brace of shakes.”
“While you’re at it,” said Bob, “I’ll scout around the island and see what it looks like. I’ll not be gone long.”