While engaged in the pleasant duty of appeasing hunger, our divers chatted on many subjects, chiefly professional. Among other things, Rooney remarked that he had heard it said a diving-dress contained sufficient air in it to keep a man alive for more than five minutes.
“I have heard the same,” said Edgar.
“Come, David,” suggested Joe Baldwin, “let’s test it on you.”
“Ready,” said Maxwell, rising and wiping his huge mouth.
The proposal which was made in jest was thereupon carried out in earnest!
Dinner being over, Maxwell put on his diving-dress; the Chinamen set the pump going, and the front-glass was screwed on. Air was forced into the dress until it was completely inflated and looked as if ready to burst, while Maxwell stood on the deck holding on to a back-stay. At a given signal the pumpers ceased to work, and the adventurous man was thus cut off from all further communication with the outward air.
At first the onlookers were amused; then they became interested, and as the minutes flew by, a little anxious, but Maxwell’s grave countenance, as seen through the bull’s-eye, gave no cause for alarm. Thus he stood for full ten minutes, and then opening the escape-valve, signalled for more air.
This was a sufficient evidence that a man might have ample time to return to the surface from great depths, even if the air-pumps should break down.
“But, perhaps,” said Edgar, as they conversed on the subject, “you might not be able to hold out so long under water where the pressure would be great.”
“Sure that’s true. What d’ee say to try, David?” said Rooney.