Under the Ocean to the South Pole Part 1

Under the Ocean to the South Pole.

by Roy Rockwood.

CHAPTER I

WILL THE s.h.i.+P WORK?

"Hand me that wrench, Mark," called Professor Amos Henderson to a boy who stood near some complicated machinery over which the old man was working. The lad pa.s.sed the tool over.

"Do you think the s.h.i.+p will work, Professor?" he asked.

"I hope so, Mark, I hope so," muttered the scientist as he tightened some bolts on what was perhaps the strangest combination of apparatus that had ever been put together. "There is no reason why she should not, and yet--"

The old man paused. Perhaps he feared that, after all, the submarine boat on which he had labored continuously for more than a year would be a failure.

"Is there anything more I can do now?" asked Mark.

"Not right away," replied the professor, without looking up from the work he was doing. "But I wish you and Jack would be around in about an hour. I am going to start the engine then, and I'll need you. If you see Was.h.i.+ngton outside send him to me."

Mark left the big room where the submarine boat had been in process of construction so long. Outside he met a boy about his own age, who was cleaning a rifle.

"How's it going, Mark?" asked this second youth, who was rather fat, and, if one could judge by his face, of a jolly disposition.

"The professor is going to try the engine in about an hour," replied Mark. "We must be on hand."

"I'll be there all right. But if there isn't anything else to do, let's shoot at a target. I'll bet I can beat you."

"Bet you can't. Wait 'till I get my gun."

"Now don't yo' boys go to disportin' yo'seves in any disproportionable antic.i.p.ation ob transposin' dem molecules of lead in a contigious direction to yo' humble servant!" exclaimed a colored man, coming from behind the big shed at that moment, and seeing Mark and Jack with their rifles.

"I s'pose you mean to say, Was.h.i.+ngton," remarked Jack, "that you don't care to be shot at. Is that it?"

"Neber said nuffin truer in all yo' born days!" exclaimed Was.h.i.+ngton earnestly. "De infliction ob distress to de exterior portion ob--"

"The professor wants you," interrupted Mark, cutting off the colored man's flow of language.

"Yo' mind what I tole yo'," Was.h.i.+ngton muttered as he hurried into the work room.

Soon the reports of rifles indicated that the boys were trying to discover who was the best shot, a contest that waged with friendly interest for some time.

The big shed, where the submarine s.h.i.+p was being built, was located at a lonely spot on the coast of Maine. The nearest town was Easton, about ten miles away, and Professor Henderson had fixed on this location as one best suited to give him a chance to work secretly and un.o.bserved on his wonderful invention.

The professor was a man about sixty-five years old, and, while of simple and kindly nature in many ways, yet, on the subjects of airs.h.i.+ps and submarines, he possessed a fund of knowledge. He was somewhat queer, as many persons may be who devote all their thoughts to one object, yet he was a man of fine character.

Some time before this story opens he had invented an electric airs.h.i.+p in which he, with Mark Sampson, Jack Darrow and the colored man, Was.h.i.+ngton White, had made a trip to the frozen north.

Their adventures on that journey are told of in the first volume of this series, ent.i.tled, "Through the Air to the North Pole, or, The Wonderful Cruise of the _Electric Monarch_."

The two boys, Mark then being fifteen and Jack a year older, had met the professor under peculiar circ.u.mstances. They were orphans, and, after knocking about the world a bit, had chanced to meet each other. They agreed to seek together such fortune as might chance to come to them.

While in the town of Freeport, N. Y., they were driven away by a constable, who said tramps were not allowed in the village. The boys jumped on a freight train, which broke in two and ran away down the mountain, and the lads were knocked senseless in the wreck that followed.

As it chanced Professor Henderson had erected nearby a big shop, where he was building his airs.h.i.+p. He and Was.h.i.+ngton were on hand when the wreck occurred and they took the senseless boys to the airs.h.i.+p shed.

The boys, after their recovery, accepted the invitation of the professor to go on a search for the north pole. As the airs.h.i.+p was about to start Andy Sudds, an old hunter, and two men, Tom Smith and Bill Jones, who had been called in to a.s.sist at the flight, held on too long and were carried aloft.

Somewhat against their will the three latter made the trip, for the professor did not want to return to earth with them.

The party had many adventures on the voyage, having to fight savage animals and more savage Esquimaux. They reached the north pole, but in the midst of such a violent storm that the s.h.i.+p was overturned, and the discovery of the long-sought goal availed little. After many hards.h.i.+ps, and a fierce fight to recover the possession of the s.h.i.+p, which had been seized by natives, the adventurers reached home.

Since then a little over a year had pa.s.sed. The professor, having found he could successfully navigate the air, turned his attention to the water, and began to plan a craft that would sail beneath the ocean.

To this end he had moved his machine shop to this lonely spot on the Maine coast. The two boys, who had grown no less fond of the old man than he of them, went with him, as did Was.h.i.+ngton White, the negro, who was a genius in his way, though somewhat inclined to use big words, of the meaning of which he knew little and cared less.

Andy Sudds, the old hunter, had also been induced to accompany the professor.

"I hunted game up north and in the air," said Andy, "and if there's a chance to shoot something under the water I'm the one to do it."

Needing more a.s.sistance than either the boys, Andy or Was.h.i.+ngton could give, the professor had engaged two young machinists, who, under a strict promise never to divulge any of the secrets of the submarine, had labored in its building.

Now the queer craft was almost finished. As it rested on the ways in the shed, it looked exactly like a big cigar, excepting that the top part was level, forming a platform.

The s.h.i.+p, which had been named the _Porpoise_, was eighty feet long, and twenty feet in diameter at the largest part. From that it tapered gradually, until the ends were reached. These consisted of flattened plates about three feet in diameter, with a hole in the center one foot in size.

Weary months of labor had been spent on the _Porpoise_, until now it was almost ready for a trial. The professor had discovered a new method of propulsion. Instead of propellers or paddle-wheels, he intended to send his craft ahead or to the rear, by means of a water cable.

Through the entire length of the s.h.i.+p ran a round hole or shaft, one foot in diameter. Within this was an endless screw worked by powerful engines. With a working model the professor had demonstrated that when the endless screw was revolved it acted on the water just as another sort of screw does in wood. The water coming in through the shaft served as a rope, so to speak, and the screw, acting on it, pulled the craft ahead or to the rear, according to the direction in which the screw was revolved.

The submarine was a wonderful craft. It contained a powerful engine, electric motors and dynamos, and machinery of all kinds. The engine was a turbine, and steam was generated from heat furnished by the burning of a powerful gas, manufactured from sea water and chemicals. So there was no need to carry a supply of coal on the s.h.i.+p.

The interior of the vessel was divided into an engine-room, a kitchen, combination dining-room and parlor, bunk rooms, and a conning tower, or place for the steersman.

While the boys had been shooting at the target the professor and Was.h.i.+ngton had been putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the engine, tightening nuts here and screwed up bolts there.

"I guess that will do," remarked the old inventor. "Call the boys, Was.h.i.+ngton."

The colored man went to the door and gave three blasts on a battered horn that hung from a string.

"Coming!" called Mark, as he and Jack ceased their marksmans.h.i.+p contest and approached the shed.

"Now boys, we'll see if she works so far," said the professor. "If she does, we'll give her a trial under water."

At the inventor's directions the boys started the gas to generating from the chemicals. Soon the hissing of steam told them that there was power in the boiler.

The professor entered the engine-room of the submarine. He looked over the various wheels, levers, handles, gages and attachments, satisfying himself that all were in proper shape and position.