III
Dawn me, and I sat up in my and Brown.
No were singing. It unusual, and I spoke of it to Brown. Never have I such a still, daybreak. Mountains, woods, and water were silent. There was not a to be heard, nothing the thin of over the water, of which were now from the and slowly upward.
There was, it to me, something about this lake, in repose. The water as as a dark crystal, and as as the surface of a mirror. Nothing its surface, not a ripple, not an insect, not a floating.
Brown had the to the where he was now it full: I with the paddles, pole, and hydroscope. When the had been up and was afloat, we the of piano-wire aboard, it, pushed off, and through the level of toward the centre of the lake. From the I a noise. It under one of the of of the artillery. Medusa, snoring, was an in that and of dawn.
I was the centre-plug from the and into the empty the of the and attaching the battery, while Brown started his sounding; and I was still when an from my started me:
"We're some records! Do you know it, Smith?"
"Where is the lead?"
"Three hundred and still running!"
"Nonsense!"
"Look at it yourself! It goes on unreeling: I've put the on. Hurry and the hydroscope!"
I the powerful for two thousand feet, it from minute to minute as Brown the of the lake. When he called out four thousand feet, I at him.
"There's something wrong—" I began.
"There's nothing wrong!" he interrupted. "Four thousand five hundred! Five thousand! Five thousand five hundred—"
"Are you there and trying to tell me that this is over a mile deep!"
"Look for yourself!" he said in an voice. "Here is the tape! You can read, can't you? Six thousand feet—and evenly. Six thousand five hundred!... Seven thousand! Seven thousand five—"
"It can't be!" I protested.
But it was true. Astounded, I to the to a range incredible, the to focus at a mile and a half, at two miles, at two and a quarter, a half, three-quarters, three miles, three miles and a quarter—click!
"Good Heavens!" he whispered. "This is three miles and a deep!"
Mechanically I set the lachet, the firm, out the black eye-mask, locked it, then, on the I rested my in the mask, for the lever, and on the electric light.
Quicker than the solid of light through profundity, and the of water was along its pathway.
Nothing moved in those except, nearly two miles below, a of and like of mica.
At I noticed them, them to be of under the electric pencil of the hydroscope. But presently it to me that these in motion were not on the bottom—were a little less than two miles deep, and therefore suspended.
To be at all, at two miles' depth, they were they must have bulk.
"Do you see anything?" Brown.
"Some at a of two miles."
"What do they look like?"
"Specks."
"Are they in motion?"
"They to be."
"Do they come any nearer?"
After a while I answered:
"One of the to be larger.... I it is in motion and is slowly upward.... It's bigger.... It's longer."
"Is it a fish?"
"It can't be."
"Why not?"
"It's impossible. Fish don't the size of in ponds."
There was a silence. After an I said:
"Brown, I don't know what to make of that thing."
"Is it any nearer?"
"Yes."
"What it look like now?"
"It looks like a fish. But it can't be. It looks like a tiny, minnow. But it can't be. Why, if it a in size at this distance—what can be its dimensions?"
"Let me look," he said.
Unwillingly I my from the and him my place.
A long followed. The western mountain-tops under the sun; the sky bluer. Yet, there was not a bird-note in that still place, not a of wings, nothing stirring.
Here and there along the I noticed unusual-looking trees—very odd-looking trees indeed, for their and dead, and as though no them, yet every was with foliage—a thick so dark in colour that it black to me.
I at my where he with his in the mask, then I my field-glasses and them on the nearest of the trees.
At I not make out what I was looking at; then, to my astonishment, I saw that these stark, trees were lifeless, and that what I had for dark were of there asleep—thousands of them and the with a and of foliage.
I don't mind in ordinary numbers. But in such soft, they me. There must have been of them to the trees.
"This is pleasant," I said. "Look at those bats, Brown."
When Brown spoke without his head, his voice was so shaken, so altered, that the of it me:
"Smith," he said, "there is a fish in here, like a minnow. And I should judge, by the it is in, that it is about as long as an ordinary Pullman car."
His voice shook, but his were to the point of commonplace. Which the of his all the more terrific.
"A—a minnow—as big as a Pullman car?" I repeated, dazed.
"Larger, I think.... It looks to me through the hydroscope, at this distance, like a tiny, minnow. It's a mile down.... Swimming about.... I can see its eyes; they must be about ten in diameter. I can see its moving. And there are about a dozen others, much deeper, around.... This is easily the most to science since the of the purple-spotted dingle-bock, Bukkus dinglii.... We've got to catch one of those fish!"
"How?" I gasped. "How are we going to catch a as large as a sleeping car?"
"I don't know, but we've got to do it. We've got to manage it, somehow."
"It would a to such a fish and a engine to him in! And what about a hook? And if we had hook, line, steam-winch, and else, what about bait?"
He for some time longer, the fish, he the to me. Then I it; but it came no nearer, to swim about at the of a little more than a mile. Deep under this fish I see others as they or to and fro.
Presently I my and sat thinking. The sun now the water; a little it here and there where cat's-paws played over the surface.
"What on earth do you those fish on?" asked Brown under his breath.
I a moment longer, then it came to me in a of understanding, and I pointed at the trees.
"Bats!" I muttered. "They on as other fish on the little, gauzy-winged which over ponds! You saw those over the last night, didn't you? That the whole thing! Don't you understand? Why, what we saw were these fish like after the bats. It was their time!"
I do not that two more scientists than Brown and I. The of us. Here we had a in the Thunder Mountains which was the in the world; and it was by a fish of the species, the of which, hitherto, had been of by science.
"Kitten," I said, my voice by emotion, "which will you have named after you, the or the fish? Shall it be Lake Kitten Brown, or shall it be Minnius kittenii? Speak!"
"What about that old party name you said had already been to the lake?" he asked piteously.
"Who? Mrs. Batt? Do you think I'd name such an after her? Anyway, she has the honour."
"Very well," he said, "I'll accept it. And the fish shall be as Minnius Smithii!"
Too moved to speak, we over and hands with each other. In that and moment, with emotion, a deep, came across the water to our ears. It was the artillery, snoring.
Never can I that scene; on the pond, the and peaks, the sky overhead, the trees where thousands of in clusters, than the in Valembrosa—and Kitten Brown and I, cross-legged upon our raft, hands in of to science and a unending.
"And how about that girl?" he asked.
"What girl?"
"Angelica White?"
"Well," said I, "what about her?"
"Does she go with the or with the fish?"
"What do you mean?" I asked coldly, my hand from his clasp.
"I mean, which of us the to win her?" he said, blushing. "There's no use that we have been over by her; is there?"
I for moments.
"She is an girl," I said, stalling.
"Yes, and then some."
After a minutes' thought, I said:
"Possibly I am in error, but at moments it has to me that my marked to Miss White are not to her. I may be mistaken—"
"I think you are, Smith."
"Why?"
"Because—well, I to think so."
I said coldly:
"Because she to away in your arms last night is no that she you. Is it?"
"No."
"Then why do you to think that tactful, delicate, and on my part may prove not to this intelligent—"
"Smith!"
"What?"
"Miss White is not only a nurse, but she also is about to her as a physician."
"How do you know?"
"She told me."
"When?"
"When you were the fire last night. Also, she me that she had herself to a marriage."
"When did she tell you that?"
"While you were in a of water from the last night. And furthermore, she told me that I was perfectly for a marriage."
"When did she tell you that?" I demanded.
"When she had—fainted—in my arms."
"How the did she come to say a thing like that?"
He red about the ears:
"Well, I had just told her that I had in love with her—"
"Damn!" I said. And that's all I said; and a I for shore. Behind me I the of the piano wire as Brown started the electric reel. Later I him the on the hydroscope; but I was too for any words, and I away at the water with my paddle.
In and of déshabillé the came to the for ablutions, all a-row like a file of ducks.
They at me as I ashore:
"I want my breakfast!" Mrs. Batt. "Do you what I say, guide? And I don't wish to be waiting for it either! I to out of this place as soon as possible."
"I'm sorry," I said, "but I to here for some time."
"What!" the in unison.
But my had been tried, and I was in a mood to tell the truth and make work of it, too.
"Ladies," I said, "I'll not matters. Mr. Brown and I are not guides; we are scientists from Bronx Park, and we don't know a thing about this we're in!"
"Swindler!" Mrs. Batt, in an voice. "I very well that the United States Government would have named that of water after me!"
"Don't worry, madam! I've named it after Mr. Brown. And the new of fish which I in this I have named after myself. As for this spot until I have my scientific study of these fish, I won't. I to their and to one of them if it the of my natural life to do so. I shall be sorry to you here such a period, but it can't be helped. And now you know what the is, and you are at to think it over after you have your in Lake Kitten Brown."
Rage the artillery, and a them when they that Indians had their of perquisites. I up a tree.
When the had for them to what I said, I a speech to them. From the higher of a tree Kitten Brown and cried, "Hear! Hear!"
"Ladies," I said, "you know the worst, now. If you keep me up this tree and me to death it will be murder. Also, you don't know to out of these forests, but I can you the way you came. I'll do it if you your and permit Mr. Brown and myself to here and study these fish for a week or two."
"'If you keep me up this tree and me to death it will be murder.'"
They now to the idea. There was nothing else for them to do. So after an hour or two, Brown and I to from our trees, and we among them to them and ourselves as best we might.
"Think," I argued, "what a opportunity for you to be among the of a totally new and of fish! Think what a it will be to such a record to posterity! Think how proud and happy your will be to know that their at the of Minnius Smithii!"
"Why can't they be named after me?" Mrs. Batt.
"Because," I patiently, "they have already been named after me!"
"Couldn't something be named after me?" that lady.
"The bats," Brown politely, "we name a after you with pleasure—"
I for a moment she meant to on him. He so, too, and ducked.
"A bat!" she shouted. "Name a after me!"
"Many a scientist has been by having his name upon fauna," I explained.
But she dangerous, so I and the fire, and there, bacon, while on the other of the fire, by side, Kitten Brown and Angelica White upon each other with eyes. It was sickening—but let that pass. I was to that science is a and that any of mine every of being squelched. No; I had not been for the of legal domesticity. Science, the jade, had not yet her with me. Apparently my with her was to be external. Fides est.
That the a of war, and came to a to make the best of the situation, for toward they me with a for the raft, that they to and about the and in song.
So Brown and I put the a cold supper; and the embarked, taking a to be by Miss Dingleheimer, and for the others.
It was a evening. Brown and I had been a plan to the and the fish, that method to us as the only possible way to secure a of the which the depths. In fact, it was our only of one of these creatures—fishing with a engine, cable, and a with a being too and more and expensive.
I was still my pipe, seated at the of the big pine-tree, the water turn from gold to pink: Brown sat higher up the slope, his arm around Angelica White. I my toward them.
On the the were loudly, banqueting, singing, the guitar, and their hands across the sunset-tinted water.
I was of nothing in particular as I now remember, that I noticed the to over the lake; when Brown called to me from the above, it was perfectly safe for the to out so late.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Suppose," he shouted, "that those fish should to jump and on the again?"
I had of that.
I rose and to the shore, and, making a of my hands, I shouted:
"Come in! It isn't safe to out any longer!"
Scornful from the answered my appeal.
"You'd come in!" I called. "You can't tell what might if any of those fish should jump."
"Mind your business!" Mrs. Batt. "We've had of your prevarications—"
Then, suddenly, without the of warning, from the centre of the a of water a hundred in the air.
For one second I saw the skyward, on the of the fountain, ladies, supper, guitars, and in every direction.
Then a thing occurred; fish after fish up out of the of water and foam, seizing, as they fell, ladies, luncheon, and in mid-air, with a which to the very mountains.
"Help!" I screamed. And away.
"Then a thing occurred."
Is it necessary to proceed? Literature nods; Science her head. No, nothing but the which upon the shore, the last from that catastrophe.
Why should I go on? The newspapers of the nation have recorded the last of the tragedy.
We know that of are being to that lake. We know that it is the of the Government to the world of those minnows.
And yet, somehow, it to me as I here in my office, the of Bronx Park, that the of these fish is a mistake.
What more the ladies of the than these huge, silvery, and tombs?
What more wish for than to at last the of an new of anything?
For me, such a final as this would the of sublimity, the of dignity.
So what more is there for me to say?
As for Angelica—but no matter. I she may be happy with Kitten Brown. Yet, as I have said before, men last. But she should have of that in time.
I myself of all responsibility. She had her chance.
