find the cannon in deep water just beyond its edge, for 

 it was here that he and a group of turtle fishermen had 

 seen them, many years ago, near some caves formed by 

 the edge of the bank. 



This was encouraging. Webby began to take sound- 

 ings. We were running in about two fathoms of water. 

 Gradually it increased to two and a half and then, just as 

 Ceffy had indicated, it dropped suddenly to four and a 

 half. 



This must be it! I peered over the side as Webby 

 dropped the hook, half expecting to see the dull glow of 

 the brass cannon we had come so far to find. The water 

 was by now well covered with ripples, and the bottom 

 was no longer visible. In every direction, as far as the eye 

 could see, was an unbroken expanse of water. There 

 wasn't a cay or a reef in sight. Beneath our boat, as I well 

 knew, was a floor of white sand which stretched for 

 miles — no coral, no rocks, scarcely any grass. 



What a place to find a wreck! It looked hopeless. 

 Nevertheless, having coming this far, it was no time to 

 quit. 



As soon as the glass-bottomed boat could be launched, 

 Ed and Webby started out. They scoured the surrounding 

 area for some time, then came back and took Ceflpy along. 

 It was getting dark by this time, and vision through the 

 glass bottom was poor. At last they returned to Eryholme 

 and dinner. 



"Do you think we'll find them, Ceffy?" I inquired. 



Ceffy looked vaguely across the water. "Oh, yassum, 

 dey's got to be right here," he singsonged. "I'se seen dos 

 barrels many times 'longside de boat." 



We went to bed that night praying for a day of 

 glassy water. Then we would chart the water, drop buoys 

 for markers and systematically comb the surrounding area 

 with both Eryholme and the httle boat. 



The Florida Keys 45 



