exterior lamp and the two gasped in unison.
"It’s a giant squid!" Tom cried. "More than one!"
"Big as a submarine," Bud groaned. "Look at the size of its eye—like a barrel top! We’d better rise up and out of here!"
Tom mused for a second. "Despite their proportions, these creatures aren’t usually aggressive. I think it’ll just get out of our way."
"You’re a nice guy, Tom," Bud said fearfully, "but aren’t you carrying your love of animals too far? This thing could’ve been trained as an attack squid!"
Tom touched the controls at his finger tips and the jetmarine started forward.
"I think this will scare him," Tom said coolly. But he had not reckoned on the reaction of the creature to being cornered within the ravine. With a vicious, lightninglike movement the squid lashed a tentacle against the nose of the Nemo . The jetmarine shuddered under the impact, throwing both boys to the floor.
"He’ll break through!" Bud cried as the monster closed in around the bow-dome with all its crushing tentacles. Using its own water-propulsion jet to twist and pivot, the squid seemed intent on slamming the Nemo against the craggy, unyeilding walls of the undersea crevice!
CHAPTER 12
MONSTERS OF THE DEEP!
TOM AND BUD braced themselves, fully expecting to hear the protest of metal against rock. But to their shocked surprise, the squid released the craft and continued its turn.
"I don’t get it," Bud whispered as the weird sea creature jetted away out of sight.
Tom switched off both the exterior and interior lights. The Nemo was in darkness. The jetmarine’s cockpit was illuminated only by the faint glow of the instrument panel. "The squid’s thrown us into some kind of cave," Tom said, examining the sonarscope monitor. "It extends on a little ways, then widens out."
"An underwater base!"
"We’ll see."
Tom cautiously applied the hydraulic jets, looking for a sign of light either above or in front of them. But there was only complete darkness.
"We’re in the open area now," he said presently. "The surface is ten feet above us."
"Ten feet?" challenged Bud. "We went down a lot further than that!"
"Yep—which means this surface is the bottom of some kind of trapped air bubble underneath Spaniel Island," said Tom with growing excitement. "Bud, you may have been right! And this may be where the Sea Snipers have imprisoned Hank Sterling!"
The Nemo broke the surface and floated motionlessly in the utter blackness. "The air pressure’s high," Tom noted, reading the instruments. "It has to equal the pressure of the water it’s pushing aside, of course. But it won’t hurt us if we spend some extra time in the compression chamber both coming and going."
Presently, their lungs and bodies prepared for the change in pressure, Tom and Bud climbed out through the topside hatch. All was darkness.
"These guys must have imported some L.A. smog to make them feel at home," whispered Bud. The air was breathable but permeated by a pungent petroleum-like odor and thick with moisture.
"Probably trapped exhaust fumes from the engines of their sub," Tom replied softly. "And I’m glad to smell it, because it means the Snipers aren’t in residence at the moment—or they’d have turned on their air-pump system."
Ready to throw themselves back in the jetmarine at the first sign of hostility, Tom and Bud switched on their portable flashlamps. The lamps could be adjusted to produce an illuminated area of almost any diameter, even at great distances, though their beams did not dazzle the eye.
Playing the beams back and forth they began to create a mental picture of their surroundings. The Nemo had surfaced in a small lagoon, completely enclosed by an arching ceiling of rock. Though the main part of the cavern appeared to be natural, it was obvious that a section of the wall had been hollowed out artificially, producing a flat shelf only a foot above the still, glassy waters. Docking equipment, including cranes, lined the shelf;
"It’s a giant squid!" Tom cried. "More than one!"
"Big as a submarine," Bud groaned. "Look at the size of its eye—like a barrel top! We’d better rise up and out of here!"
Tom mused for a second. "Despite their proportions, these creatures aren’t usually aggressive. I think it’ll just get out of our way."
"You’re a nice guy, Tom," Bud said fearfully, "but aren’t you carrying your love of animals too far? This thing could’ve been trained as an attack squid!"
Tom touched the controls at his finger tips and the jetmarine started forward.
"I think this will scare him," Tom said coolly. But he had not reckoned on the reaction of the creature to being cornered within the ravine. With a vicious, lightninglike movement the squid lashed a tentacle against the nose of the Nemo . The jetmarine shuddered under the impact, throwing both boys to the floor.
"He’ll break through!" Bud cried as the monster closed in around the bow-dome with all its crushing tentacles. Using its own water-propulsion jet to twist and pivot, the squid seemed intent on slamming the Nemo against the craggy, unyeilding walls of the undersea crevice!
CHAPTER 12
MONSTERS OF THE DEEP!
TOM AND BUD braced themselves, fully expecting to hear the protest of metal against rock. But to their shocked surprise, the squid released the craft and continued its turn.
"I don’t get it," Bud whispered as the weird sea creature jetted away out of sight.
Tom switched off both the exterior and interior lights. The Nemo was in darkness. The jetmarine’s cockpit was illuminated only by the faint glow of the instrument panel. "The squid’s thrown us into some kind of cave," Tom said, examining the sonarscope monitor. "It extends on a little ways, then widens out."
"An underwater base!"
"We’ll see."
Tom cautiously applied the hydraulic jets, looking for a sign of light either above or in front of them. But there was only complete darkness.
"We’re in the open area now," he said presently. "The surface is ten feet above us."
"Ten feet?" challenged Bud. "We went down a lot further than that!"
"Yep—which means this surface is the bottom of some kind of trapped air bubble underneath Spaniel Island," said Tom with growing excitement. "Bud, you may have been right! And this may be where the Sea Snipers have imprisoned Hank Sterling!"
The Nemo broke the surface and floated motionlessly in the utter blackness. "The air pressure’s high," Tom noted, reading the instruments. "It has to equal the pressure of the water it’s pushing aside, of course. But it won’t hurt us if we spend some extra time in the compression chamber both coming and going."
Presently, their lungs and bodies prepared for the change in pressure, Tom and Bud climbed out through the topside hatch. All was darkness.
"These guys must have imported some L.A. smog to make them feel at home," whispered Bud. The air was breathable but permeated by a pungent petroleum-like odor and thick with moisture.
"Probably trapped exhaust fumes from the engines of their sub," Tom replied softly. "And I’m glad to smell it, because it means the Snipers aren’t in residence at the moment—or they’d have turned on their air-pump system."
Ready to throw themselves back in the jetmarine at the first sign of hostility, Tom and Bud switched on their portable flashlamps. The lamps could be adjusted to produce an illuminated area of almost any diameter, even at great distances, though their beams did not dazzle the eye.
Playing the beams back and forth they began to create a mental picture of their surroundings. The Nemo had surfaced in a small lagoon, completely enclosed by an arching ceiling of rock. Though the main part of the cavern appeared to be natural, it was obvious that a section of the wall had been hollowed out artificially, producing a flat shelf only a foot above the still, glassy waters. Docking equipment, including cranes, lined the shelf;
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