Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 4 (1925-04).djvu/20

servation I recognized as a type of cuneiform writing.

"Is this one of your Egyptian finds?" I queried, somewhat testily.

He waved me down in derision.

"This," he said, excitedly, "was pulled out of the south Atlantic Ocean on the flukes of an anchor dropped overboard by the tramp steamer Pole Star."

"Ah, yes," said I. "A bit of submerged driftwood—"

"Nonsense!" he shouted. "Let me tell you about it. This vessel was caught in a storm somewhere down there—I've got the exact bearings—and her anchor was carried overboard by a large sea. It ran out almost the whole length of the cable before they could arrest it. When they finally had opportunity to attend to it they found that they were anchored. Think of it, Randolph—anchored out there in the Sargasso Sea where the Admiralty charts set the depth at nearly a mile! And when they got the anchor up they found this bit of bronze twisted about one of the flukes."

"A hoax!" I exclaimed. "They fooled you for a good price."

"I paid them nothing," he retorted. "They believe there was some subterranean upheaval throwing up a submerged island which by chance caught their anchor. But this bit of bronze never came from any submerged wreck as they believe. It came from one of the hilltop temples of the lost Atlantis. I have been able to translate this inscription. Do you know what it means?"

I admitted, caustically, that I did not.

"It means," he continued, "'Wynona, Fair Princess of Atlantis.' There is something more but it is unintelligible. Wynona was the daughter of the last king of Atlantis."

"Small good it will do you," I put in. "You can never prove it."

"Indeed?" he retorted. "Then you may be interested to know that I've ordered the Nautilus to be ready for sea in eight days. I'm going down there with our diving equipment, and if it isn't too deep I'm going to explore this watery kingdom. You may come if you wish."

To make a long story short, I must say here that I was in reality more interested than I cared to admit, and it took no great urging to get me to go along. As Dr. Tyrrel had pointed out, we were already well equipped for the contemplated cruise. The Nautilus, Dr. Tyrrel's yacht, was virtually a floating laboratory in which we had spent many happy months in our explorations of the seven seas. On board was every apparatus imaginable to aid in deep sea work. Many of the devices had been invented or perfected by my colleague. Chief among these were two of the latest type diving suits—glass, steel and rubber affairs capable of withstanding excessive undersea pressures. Air was furnished to the wearer from tanks at the shoulders, and thus the danger of entangling life lines and air-hose was eliminated. Now, as I write, it seems to me almost a catastrophe that these invaluable accessories have been lost forever to the world.

We steamed out of our harbor at Bournewell on the fifth of February. Our voyage was uneventful, and three weeks later we were over the spot indicated in the nautical bearings furnished us by the captain of the Pole Star.

How well I remember that morning of our first sounding! How well I remember my own excitement, raised to the zenith by the enthusiasm of Dr. Tyrrel! And how well I remember the look on his face and the leap in my own heart when our sounding lead showed bottom at 280 feet, even as the captain of the Pole Star had said! We had indeed found a