Jack, upon finding that nothing could be discovered through an observation bull’s-eye, when he opened the stout shutter, save a surging mass of green water rushing past, realized that picture taking would not pay him just then. Besides, he began to fear that he would make too great inroads on his stock of reserve films unless he exercised considerable caution, so he determined to bide his time, as there were undoubtedly wonderful things yet in store for him.
Hours crept by.
The tired divers no doubt welcomed this opportunity to recuperate after their recent strenuous employment. Captain Shooks, too, must have spent much of this time in his bunk, for the boys saw nothing of him; though he may have been up in the conning tower several times for aught they knew, advising the man at the wheel, or taking an observation by means of the periscope as to the condition of the weather above.
When the three chums were beginning to feel dreadfully tired of being shut in such cramped quarters, and with poor air to breathe at that, Ballyhoo made the pleasing discovery that the electric pumps were busy again.
“We’re going to the surface, boys!” he told the others gleefully. “Oh! how I’m longing for a lungful of that salty air. I never knew how glorious pure air could be until I first spent three hours cooped up in an undersea boat. Why, right now I can taste oil and gas to beat the band. This sort of travel may be novel enough, but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, by a jugfull.”
Presently they knew they were drawing near the surface on account of the renewal of that pitching motion. Captain Shooks, however, must have figured that it would be perfectly safe for them to emerge, for the pumps continued to work, and in the end through the bull’s-eyes they could catch occasional glimpses of daylight, though, as a rule, surging water blinded their view.
When this had continued for perhaps an hour they felt a sudden relief, showing that the hatch above the conning tower must have been opened to allow fresh air to circulate through the boat. The ventilators, too, were in use again, and conditions seemed vastly improved.
Being allowed to climb aloft later on, the boys saw nothing around them in any direction but a tumbling sea, with foam-crested billows. It was surely an inspiring sight, especially when seen from the deck of a low craft like a submarine, that lay on the heaving waters like a duck.
Jack, unable to resist the temptation to immortalize that picture, managed to get his camera on deck, and, with the help of both his comrades, work off part of a film that would give them great delight in some of the days to come, when they were once more safely back in quiet, sedate little old Melancton.
The wind was dying down, however, and by evening they expected there would be a quiet sea, with simply long rollers running, over which they could make rapid progress.