Everything was ready that day, a raft rigged and attached thereto the huge diving-bell, and at early morning, in the short twilight, for the island lies well down south, the men commenced work right gaily.
The Fortuna was hove to about three miles from the shore.
The men in the bell were as busy as bonnet-makers, Kep and McTavish roaming over the island accompanied by two bluejackets.
It was not snakes that the brawny surgeon was in search of this time, but Kep had suggested that the crew of the sunken treasure might have made some effort to get a portion of the gold on shore, and there was not a yard of the island anywhere within a mile of the creek or inlet that they did not search. But all in vain, and ere twilight fell, they were back to dinner on board the Breezy.
The news was most exhilarating. The bell had been most effective. The men could see everything, and work from inside with levers, or, entering a chamber beneath, get out and walk about the bottom of the sea itself. This work was first executed, and the old galleon, evidently Spanish, was cleared of weeds, and a space many yards all around her; then these were dragged away up the creek, and the divers had a clear field for investigation. No less a sum than £50,000 in gold bars and doubloons were sent up the first day, in boxes weighing about two hundred pounds each.
The Breezy spent seven days more at the work, during which time all the men did their duty well and heartily.
The ship was finally blown to pieces on the ocean's bed, and every piece of her was examined. In one box were many precious stones of great value.
On the third day Stormalong was sent to tell the skipper of the Fortuna about the wreck that lay on the other island.
The two brothers, the Jewish gentlemen, received him most affably. The skipper himself was sulky, and gave evidence that he had once more resorted to the rum cask to drown his sorrows and keep up his heart.
"But there are good men and true on board, only they are timid and over-awed by the bad hats among the crew." This is what Moses told Stormalong. "These are mutinous even already."