The Sunken Isthmus
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The Sunken Isthmus - Luis Senarens
Senarens
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. WHICH IS INTRODUCTORY.
CHAPTER II. IN WHICH THE PROJECT IS UNDERTAKEN.
CHAPTER III. AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.
CHAPTER IV. A WONDERFUL NARRATIVE.
CHAPTER V. A BOLD ESCAPE.
CHAPTER VI. THE SUNKEN ISTHMUS.
CHAPTER VII. A SERIOUS CATASTROPHE.
CHAPTER VIII. THE VILLAIN OUTWITTED.
CHAPTER IX. THE SUNKEN CITY.
CHAPTER X. AT THE TREASURE CAVE.
CHAPTER XI. POOLE PLAYS A NEW CARD.
CHAPTER XII. A TURNING OF TABLES—THE END.
In a few minutes they were near the other divers. One of them was recognized as Poole. The villain was the personification of fury. He swung his ax aloft and made a rush at Frank. His companions did the same.
CHAPTER I.
WHICH IS INTRODUCTORY.
By looking at any comprehensive map it can be readily seen that upon the western end of the Island of Cuba there is a cape known as San Antonio.
Opposite it and upon the eastern extremity of mystic Yucatan is Cape Catoche. Between these two points of land lies that body of water which connects the Gulf of Mexico with the Caribbean Sea and known as the Yucatan Channel.
Mr. Wilbur Wade, the distinguished archæologist, geologist, naturalist and scientist in general, had startled his associates of the World’s Geographical Society by a positive and unheard-of statement.
I have made very careful soundings in the Yucatan Channel,
he said; also I have compared the strata of the two capes, and it is my firm belief that at a period not so very remote there existed no channel between the two points of land. In fact——
Then you claim the existence of an isthmus between Cuba and Yucatan at some time?
interrupted Professor Brown.
Just so,
agreed Mr. Wade.
What has become of it, I would like to ask?
There was just a bit of cynicism in this query. But then these two men had never been the warmest of friends. Wade bit his lip.
What do you suppose has become of it?
he retorted. Surely you don’t think it has taken wings and flown away?
But you were going to prove the matter to us,
returned Professor Brown, with a bit of sarcasm.
If it is not an impossibility,
said Mr. Wade, ironically, my opinion is that the isthmus is at present at the bottom of the Yucatan Channel.
A number of the scientists moved in their seats. Professor Brown smiled broadly.
A very simple matter to look at,
he said, pointedly. Of course, it will be easy to furnish absolute evidence?
Mr. Wade turned a cold stare upon the man who could speak so insultingly. Then he said:
Before I allow the fact to go upon record I shall prove it.
Then we shall have an isthmus between Labrador and Greenland; another ‘twixt Japan and Corea; still another between Sicily and the Italian Peninsula, and again——
One moment,
said Wade, politely. You must remember that there is nothing improbable in any hypothesis you have named. If I am not able to prove myself right, you are not able to prove that the sunken isthmus never existed. I leave it in all fairness to our fellow-members.
There was a slight murmur of approval, but there was yet incredulity.
How do you expect to prove that there was once an isthmus between Cape San Antonio and Cape Catoche, may I ask, Mr. Wade?
spoke the chairman.
Mr. Wade drew himself up.
By the only possible method,
he replied. I shall visit it.
The scientists all looked surprised. Professor Brown actually laughed out loud and slyly tapped his forehead. Finally the chairman said:
Really, Mr. Wade, you must allow that that is quite a remarkable assertion. In what manner can you expect to visit this—this imaginary sunken isthmus?
Wade’s eyes flashed.
Imaginary if you will,
he said; I shall conduct my investigations with a submarine boat.
There was a great stir in the assemblage. Even Professor Brown forgot to interject his sarcasm.
In a submarine boat?
repeated the chairman. Does such a craft exist?
It does!
replied Mr. Wade, suavely. And a very dear friend of mine is the inventor and owner.
His name?
Frank Reade, Jr., of Readestown.
A murmur went through the throng. At once the sentiment began to change. Professor Brown faded from view.
Not one in that distinguished company but had heard of Frank Reade, Jr. His name changed the tide.
Indeed!
exclaimed the chairman, with interest. Is not Mr. Reade the inventor of an airship?
Yes, sir.
And of other wonderful things?
Exactly.
So he has built a submarine boat?
He has, and it is a success. He has kindly consented to assist me in locating the sunken isthmus. This boat is capable of remaining weeks under the sea. The plan cannot fail.
In a moment dozens of the men were thronging about Wade, congratulating him heartily. Skeptical they were no longer. Foes a moment back, now they were fawning friends. Truly, nothing creates friendship like one’s success.
He was at once the lion of the hour. Scores of requests were showered upon him. Would he procure such a specimen? Would he solve such a marine problem? Was there any room on board the Sea Diver for another savant?
Et cetera, et cetera.
One still incredulous man ventured to ask:
Will not the sunken isthmus be like all the rest of the bed of the sea? How will you prove it was ever above the surface?
If an isthmus did exist in that locality,
said Wade, logically, there must have been habitations upon it. Probably I shall find ruins of a village, town or city, or remains of forests or craters, or river beds. There will be plenty of evidence if there ever was an isthmus.
Wade went to New York from Washington on the night train. As he was whirled away upon the fast express he felt that he had really gained a great victory.
I silenced that old hard-skull, Brown,
he muttered, with keen satisfaction. And he deserved it.
I know the reader