“Well,” said the young inventor, after some thought, “I hardly believe that the sea which the Veneta is buried in is of the same sort as this. While the Gulf of Honduras is undoubtedly rich in marine growth, yet I believe that there are greater tracts of sandy plain and coral reef. Let us hope to find the Veneta in such.”
“Amen!” cried Clifford. “We will accept no other belief anyway!”
The Dolphin kept on for miles sailing over the forest of marine growth.
Had the voyagers felt the inclination there would have been no open space for a safe descent.
For to risk a descent among the tangled fibers and branches of the marine plants would be worse than folly. Powerful as the Dolphin was, she might not be able to extricate herself.
For hours the submarine boat kept on in this way.
Barney was at the helm, while Frank and Hartley and Clifford sat in the cabin and discussed the subject of locating the Veneta.
Barney kept his hand on the Dolphin’s wheel and a sharp lookout out of the window at the same time.
Pomp had been at work in the galley.
He had finished his cooking and for a moment stood looking out of his window at the curious sights which seemed to pass in review before him.