That evening I called a conference. Captain Holstrom, his two mates, and Engineer Shank assembled in the wheel-house, and I explained as best I could what my preparations meant.
Remember, please, that at the time of which I am writing hydraulic mining had not been tried, and men in those days had no conception of what a stream of water would accomplish in moving soil.
I told those blinking confrères that I believed I could direct a stream of water on that sand below the sea and bore a hole down to that treasure. The only one in the party who showed one glimmer of enthusiasm was Mr. Shank. And even he did not get up and hurrah. He nodded his head sagely and admitted that “stranger things had happened.”
“But you’ve got to use our steam-donkey for your stream,” growled Captain Holstrom, “and you can’t get the Zizania any nearer shore than this without wrecking her. You’re only planning on three hundred feet of hose.”
“That’s all I need, Captain. Mr. Shank can build us a plunger-pump with brakes, and we’ll put the whole crew on to the beams, and have ’em give an imitation of a firemen’s muster.”
Mr. Shank nodded again, and allowed that “stranger things had been done.”
“How did you happen to think of this cussed scheme, anyway?” inquired Captain Holstrom, not trying to hide his disappointment.
I promptly decided that I would not confess that the thing had been suggested to me by a monkey with a wire tail. I looked at the scowling captain, and I could imagine the wealth of his language if I should tell him any such thing. So I took all the credit to myself—and it was not much credit I received from those solemn listeners. The most I got out of Holstrom was the sullen statement that no matter what I did next the situation couldn’t be any worse than it was.
The work went on the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. It was slow business making that hose so that it would be anyway water-tight. And the wooden force-pump took a lot of time in the building, rude affair though it was. It had a plunger—two ends of wood on an iron rod, and the brake-beams were long enough so that a dozen men could get a clutch on them.
I don’t remember how much time we used up in getting our makeshift apparatus into such shape as would warrant it being used for the trial.