The fish rushed past him, hitting him often with their tails, while the crabs spit at them spitefully, their beady eyes bulging from their heads.
He was almost to the top now, but his air was gone, and with it his strength. There was a strange flicker before his eyes and a roaring in his head.
Once he stumbled headlong, but quickly picked himself up again.
Half a dozen steps more and his head came out of the water. Then he dragged himself to a higher point and with nervous hands unscrewed his air-and-water-tight helmet.
Oh, how good the fresh air tasted! It was fairly intoxicating, and he filled his lungs repeatedly.
He was saved!
Looking around, he found a small jut of land not a dozen yards distant, fringed with a series of overhanging bushes and trees.
It was on the Cuban coast, two miles west of the city which the Tien-Tsin had been bombarding.
He dragged himself to the shore, and finding a safe place in the bushes, threw himself down to rest.
From a distance he heard the booming of cannon, telling that the Cuban city was being bombarded still by other vessels of the foreign foe.