1 82 A DESCENT INTO PERPETUAL NIGHT 



interest in the work lay only in scientific observations, Dr. 

 Grosvenor made no stipulation as to a deeper, record dive. 



Friendly arrangements were speedily made between the 

 National Geographic and the New York Zoological So- 

 cieties, and early in March, 1934, the new expedition was 

 well under way, the twentieth of my Department of Trop- 

 ical Research and the sixth year of oceanographic work off 

 Bermuda. 



The great blue sphere was roused from her reverie one 

 day, and hoisted on a freight car. The next time I saw her 

 she was squatting disconsolately amid an enormous jumble 

 of intricate machinery, whirling belts, and flying sparks in 

 the factory of Mr. E. A. Stillman at Roselle, New Jersey. 

 She had returned to the place of her birth for a thorough 

 overhauling. 



As the bathysphere rested on her present bed of steel 

 filings she seemed as staunch and sturdy as ever. I would 

 willingly have scrambled inside and trusted her to carry 

 me down and back safely to any depth I chose. But the 

 doctors of mechanics, gathered in consultation, were more 

 skeptical and they began to assemble what in human hos- 

 pitals would be stethoscopes and sphygmometers. 



I peered in through the center window and it seemed 

 as clear as ever, and then I was startled to see several ra- 

 diating lines as from a fracture. I rubbed the glass and 

 a small spider ran over my hand and at my touch the 

 strands of cobweb disappeared. I left the experts to their 

 intricate examination, and motored back to the city. 



