The Madman and the Pirate & Other Sea Adventures - 5 Books in One Edition. R. M. Ballantyne
eagerly in the direction of the waterspout rocks, which, as I have before mentioned, were not far from our present place of abode. On arriving there we hastened down to the edge of the rocks and gazed over into the sea, where we observed the pale-green object still distinctly visible, moving its tail slowly to and fro in the water.
“Most remarkable!” said Jack.
“Exceedingly curious!” said I.
“Beats everything!” said Peterkin.—“Now, Jack,” he added, “you made such a poor figure in your last attempt to stick that object that I would advise you to let me try it. If it has got a heart at all, I’ll engage to send my spear right through the core of it; if it hasn’t got a heart, I’ll send it through the spot where its heart ought to be.”
“Fire away, then, my boy,” replied Jack with a laugh.
Peterkin immediately took the spear, poised it for a second or two above his head, then darted it like an arrow into the sea. Down it went straight into the centre of the green object, passed quite through it, and came up immediately afterwards, pure and unsullied, while the mysterious tail moved quietly as before!
“Now,” said Peterkin gravely, “that brute is a heartless monster; I’ll have nothing more to do with it.”
“I’m pretty sure now,” said Jack, “that it is merely a phosphoric light; but I must say I’m puzzled at its staying always in that exact spot.”
I also was much puzzled, and inclined to think with Jack that it must be phosphoric light, of which luminous appearance we had seen much while on our voyage to these seas. “But,” said I, “there is nothing to hinder us from diving down to it, now that we are sure it is not a shark.”
“True,” returned Jack, stripping off his clothes. “I’ll go down, Ralph, as I’m better at diving than you are.—Now, then, Peterkin, out o’ the road!” Jack stepped forward, joined his hands above his head, bent over the rocks, and plunged into the sea. For a second or two the spray caused by his dive hid him from view; then the water became still, and we saw him swimming far down in the midst of the green object. Suddenly he sank below it, and vanished altogether from our sight! We gazed anxiously down at the spot where he had disappeared for nearly a minute, expecting every moment to see him rise again for breath; but fully a minute passed and still he did not reappear. Two minutes passed! and then a flood of alarm rushed in upon my soul when I considered that, during all my acquaintance with him, Jack had never stayed under water more than a minute at a time—indeed, seldom so long.
“Oh Peterkin!” I said in a voice that trembled with increasing anxiety, “something has happened. It is more than three minutes now.” But Peterkin did not answer; and I observed that he was gazing down into the water with a look of intense fear mingled with anxiety, while his face was overspread with a deadly paleness. Suddenly he sprang to his feet and rushed about in a frantic state, wringing his hands, and exclaiming, “Oh Jack! Jack! He is gone! It must have been a shark, and he is gone for ever!”
For the next five minutes I know not what I did; the intensity of my feelings almost bereft me of my senses. But I was recalled to myself by Peterkin seizing me by the shoulders and staring wildly into my face, while he exclaimed, “Ralph! Ralph! perhaps he has only fainted! Dive for him, Ralph!”
It seemed strange that this did not occur to me sooner. In a moment I rushed to the edge of the rocks, and without waiting to throw off my garments, was on the point to spring into the waves when I observed something black rising up through the green object. In another moment Jack’s head rose to the surface, and he gave a wild shout, flinging back the spray from his locks, as was his wont after a dive. Now we were almost as much amazed at seeing him reappear, well and strong, as we had been at first at his non-appearance; for, to the best of our judgment, he had been nearly ten minutes under water—perhaps longer—and it required no exertion of our reason to convince us that this was utterly impossible for mortal man to do and retain his strength and faculties. It was, therefore, with a feeling akin to superstitious awe that I held down my hand and assisted him to clamber up the steep rocks. But no such feeling affected Peterkin. No sooner did Jack gain the rocks and seat himself on one, panting for breath, than he threw his arms round his neck and burst into a flood of tears. “Oh Jack! Jack!” said he, “where were you? What kept you so long?”
After a few moments Peterkin became composed enough to sit still and listen to Jack’s explanation, although he could not restrain himself from attempting to wink every two minutes at me in order to express his joy at Jack’s safety. I say he attempted to wink, but I am bound to add that he did not succeed; for his eyes were so much swollen with weeping that his frequent attempts only resulted in a series of violent and altogether idiotical contortions of the face, that were very far from expressing what he intended. However, I knew what the poor fellow meant by it; so I smiled to him in return, and endeavoured to make believe that he was winking.
“Now, lads,” said Jack when we were composed enough to listen to him, “yon green object is not a shark; it is a stream of light issuing from a cave in the rocks. Just after I made my dive, I observed that this light came from the side of the rock above which we are now sitting; so I struck out for it, and saw an opening into some place or other that appeared to be luminous within. For one instant I paused to think whether I ought to venture. Then I made up my mind and dashed into it; for you see, Peterkin, although I take some time to tell this, it happened in the space of a few seconds, so that I knew I had wind enough in me to serve to bring me out o’ the hole and up to the surface again. Well, I was just on the point of turning—for I began to feel a little uncomfortable in such a place—when it seemed to me as if there was a faint light right above me. I darted upwards, and found my head out of water. This relieved me greatly, for I now felt that I could take in air enough to enable me to return the way I came. Then it all at once occurred to me that I might not be able to find the way out again; but on glancing downwards, my mind was put quite at rest by seeing the green light below me streaming into the cave, just like the light that we had seen streaming out of it, only what I now saw was much brighter.
“At first I could scarcely see anything as I gazed around me, it was so dark; but gradually my eyes became accustomed to it, and I found that I was in a huge cave, part of the walls of which I observed on each side of me. The ceiling just above me was also visible, and I fancied that I could perceive beautiful, glittering objects there; but the farther end of the cave was shrouded in darkness. While I was looking around me in great wonder, it came into my head that you two would think I was drowned; so I plunged down through the passage again in a great hurry, rose to the surface, and—here I am!”
When Jack concluded his recital of what he had seen in this remarkable cave, I could not rest satisfied till I had dived down to see it; which I did, but found it so dark, as Jack had said, that I could scarcely see anything. When I returned we had a long conversation about, it, during which I observed that Peterkin had a most lugubrious expression on his countenance.
“What’s the matter, Peterkin?” said I.
“The matter?” he replied. “It’s all very well for you two to be talking away like mermaids about the wonders of this cave; but you know I must be content to hear about it, while you are enjoying yourselves down there like mad dolphins. It’s really too bad!”
“I’m very sorry for you, Peterkin—indeed I am,” said Jack; “but we cannot help you. If you would only learn to dive—”
“Learn to fly, you might as well say!” retorted Peterkin in a very sulky tone.
“If you would only consent to keep still,” said I, “we would take you down with us in ten seconds.”
“Hum!” returned Peterkin; “suppose a salamander was to propose to you ‘only to keep still’ and he would carry you through a blazing fire in a few seconds, what would you say?”
We both laughed and shook our heads, for it was evident that nothing was to be made of Peterkin in the water. But we could not rest satisfied till we had seen more of this cave; so, after further consultation, Jack and I determined to try if we could take down a torch with us, and set fire to it in the