and he concluded that Torres had rolled beyond the eddy toward the
center of the stream. If so, he would probably still recover the
body, for the current could hardly touch it at the depth, which was
already great, and seemed sensibly to increase. Benito then resolved
to pursue his investigations on the side where he had begun to probe
the vegetation. This was why he continued to advance in that
direction, and the raft had to follow him during a quarter of an
hour, as had been previously arranged.
The quarter of an hour had elapsed, and Benito had found nothing. He
felt the need of ascending to the surface, so as to once more
experience those physiological conditions in which he could recoup
his strength. In certain spots, where the depth of the river
necessitated it, he had had to descend about thirty feet. He had thus
to support a pressure almost equal to an atmosphere, with the result
of the physical fatigue and mental agitation which attack those who
are not used to this kind of work. Benito then pulled the
communication cord, and the men on the raft commenced to haul him in,
but they worked slowly, taking a minute to draw him up two or three
feet so as not to produce in his internal organs the dreadful effects
of decompression.
As soon as the young man had set foot on the raft the metallic sphere
of the diving-dress was raised, and he took a long breath and sat
down to rest.
The pirogues immediately rowed alongside. Manoel, Fragoso, and Araujo
came close to him, waiting for him to speak.
“Well?” asked Manoel.
“Still nothing! Nothing!”
“Have you not seen a trace?”
“Not one!”
“Shall I go down now?”
“No, Manoel,” answered Benito; “I have begun; I know where to go. Let
me do it!”
Benito then explained to the pilot that his intention was to visit
the lower part of the bank up to the Bar of Frias, for there the
slope had perhaps stopped the corpse, if, floating between the two
streams, it had in the least degree been affected by the current. But
first he wanted to skirt the bank and carefully explore a sort of
hole formed in the slope of the bed, to the bottom of which the poles
had evidently not been able to penetrate. Araujo approved of this
plan, and made the necessary preparations.
Manoel gave Benito a little advice. “As you want to pursue your
search on that side,” he said, “the raft will have to go over there
obliquely; but mind what you are doing, Benito. That is much deeper
than where you have been yet; it may be fifty or sixty feet, and you
will have to support a pressure of quite two atmospheres. Only
venture with extreme caution, or you may lose your presence of mind,
or no longer know where you are or what to do. If your head feels as
if in a vice, and your ears tingle, do not hesitate to give us the
signal, and we will at once haul you up. You can then begin again if
you like, as you will have got accustomed to move about in the deeper
parts of the river.”
Benito promised to attend to these hints, of which he recognized the
importance. He was particularly struck with the fact that his
presence of mind might abandon him at the very moment he wanted it
most.
Benito shook hands with Manoel; the sphere of the diving-dress was
again screwed to his neck, the pump began to work, and the diver once
more disappeared beneath the stream.
The raft was then taken about forty feet along the left bank, but as
it moved toward the center of the river the current increased in
strength, the ubas were moored, and the rowers kept it from drifting,
so as only to allow it to advance with extreme slowness.
Benito descended very gently, and again found himself on the firm
sand. When his heels touched the ground it could be seen, by the
length of the haulage cord, that he was at a depth of some sixty-five
or seventy feet. He was therefore in a considerable hole, excavated