The Boy Chums in the Gulf of Mexico / or, On a Dangerous Cruise with the Greek Spongers

by Wilmer M. Ely

All places looked alike to the inexperienced boys, and as soon as their craft was a quarter of a mile from the schooner, Charley signed to his crew to anchor and proceed with their work.

The divers at once prepared for their descent to the bottom. The lead was first hove to find out the depth of the water, which proved to be about thirty-five feet. Before donning their waterproof suits, the divers tested the air pump carefully and examined the air hose minutely, for upon these two things their lives would depend when once they sank beneath the surface. While they were putting on the strange looking suits and heavy leaded shoes, the crew slung short ladders over the sides. The divers put on their headpieces last of all, these were large globe-shaped coverings of metal with two heavy glasses in front through which to see. But two divers were to descend at a time. Their places would be taken by two others at the end of two hours, which is about as long as one can safely work at a time beneath the surface. Those in reserve assisted their companions in adjusting the heavy headpieces. As soon as the helmets were on they screwed in the air hose, and connected the other ends to the pumps. A line by which to lower and raise them was fastened around each diver's body and he was then assisted onto the ladder, for it was almost impossible for them to move in their cumbersome suits and lead shoes. As soon as they had been helped to the lowest step on the ladder, each was given a large basket to which a long line had been fastened, and they were slowly and gently lowered to the bottom.

The young officers watched their operations with eager interest. What impressed them most was the vigilant care shown by the divers remaining on board. One took charge of the tub in which the air hose was coiled and paid it out carefully as the diver sank, the other held the life-line instantly ready for the jerks which would signal to him the wishes of the one below. Not once did either's eyes shift or his attention waver from his task.

"It's easy to see that this is a dangerous business," Walter remarked.

"Yes," his chum agreed, "I am beginning to see that Mr. Williams was right when he said sponging was a man's game. It certainly takes nerve to descend like those divers have, knowing that there is nothing between them and death but that little air hose. But have you noticed how they are treating that strange handsome fellow? They all seem to be afraid to have him near."

The mysterious sailor had approached the men working the air pumps, apparently with the purpose of helping with the pumping, but the pumpers drove him away with menacing gestures and upraised fists. He moved over near the coiled air hose but the diver in charge of that met him with a torrent of fiercely-uttered words and he slunk dejectedly forward, and, seating himself by the mast, buried his face in his hands.

"Poor chap," Walter remarked, "he seems to be hated by the whole crew. I wonder what is the reason."

"We will find out, I guess, when we meet up with Mr. Williams again," his chum replied. "He will likely know, or be able to find out quickly from some of his crew. But look, we are about to see our first sponges."

There had been a couple of quick jerks on the life-line. The diver holding it called to one of the crew who seized the line that had been attached to the basket, and began hauling it carefully in hand over hand.

The boys leaned over the side, eager for the first glimpse of their future cargo. When the basket came into view they both uttered an exclamation of disgust and disappointment.