NO-IVIAN'S-LAND FIVE FATHOMS DOWN 



warning there fell at my feet a good sized anchor 

 and, looking up, I saw the keel of the schooner's 

 big jolly-boat. I knew of no reason why this 

 should have followed us, and so prepared for a 

 return signal along the hose. None came, so I 

 went on and stumbled over another beautiful 

 clump of sponges. No landscape gardner could 

 have improved on the exquisite combination of 

 colors and forms. There was a semi-circular 

 border of stone-grey, soft-spined sponges, while 

 within there rose three beautifully moulded vases, 

 two tall and symmetrical, one shorter and grace- 

 fully bent, of the sheerest violet, the sponge tissue 

 frosted over with a delicate mist of shining crystals. 

 Two of the grey tubes had variegated flower worms 

 blossoming in them — like glorious lilies in drab 

 flower-pots, but while in the latter case we have 

 living plant and dead clay, here it was animal and 

 animal. 



As I was following back my meandering hose, 

 a tall human form passed over my head, swimming 

 swiftly from one boat to another. With its head 

 out of sight above the surface it offered insuperable 

 difficulties to identification. Suddenly its face 

 appeared below water and I recognized Dr. 

 Alexander Wetmore, the head of the National 

 Museum. I hastened up the ladder, for he had 

 come at my invitation and I knew he was anxious 

 to use the helmet, and to get at least a glimpse 

 of this under-water world which is such an old 

 story to penguins and ouzels. 



49 



