AT THE END OF THE SPECTRUM I 59 



of the yard, when we described an arc outward, far away 

 from the bulwarks, and then down until we struck the 

 surface. There was the never forgettable swash and flow 

 of bubbles and foam over the glass, and then the splendid 

 pale brilliance of the green upper layer of ocean. After 

 two weeks of vain attempts we were at last started on the 

 deep, downward path of our first dive this year. I gave no 

 thought to the three windows, two of quartz, one of steel, 

 for they had twice successfully been subjected to the pres- 

 sure at three thousand feet, but the stuffing box had re- 

 fused to work right, and at the very last dive had allowed 

 a gallon of water to seep past. The new 1000- watt lamp 

 was an additional source of worry for we did not know 

 what effect its heat might have upon the quartz window. 



The signal came that all was ready, and I ordered our 

 descent. The dimming of the light was more evident be- 

 tween the surface and fifty feet than anywhere else, for 

 within this zone all the warm, red rays are absorbed and 

 the remainder of the spectrum, with its dominance of 

 green and blue, reflected a sense of chill through our eyes 

 long before the thermometer had dropped a degree. 



For the first 200 feet we shifted and settled, and ar- 

 ranged our legs and instruments for the long period of 

 incarceration. Our temporary universe was, like Einstein's, 

 a curved one, with a vengeance. Seldom have I been so 

 conscious of the force of gravity, for we were in a perfect 

 sphere, and every loose, inanimate thing sought constantly 

 to come to rest at the bottom. I had my notebook, small 



