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It was on the night of the 11th-12th of December, she was in exactly 27@ 7' north latitude, and 41@ 37' west longitude, on the meridian of Washington. The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to rise above the horizon. After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieutenant and some officers were standing together on the poop.
The ceremony took place on the 25th of September. A basket of honor took down the president, J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and other members of the club, to the number of ten in all. How hot it was at the bottom of that long tube of metal! They were half suffocated. But what delight! What ecstasy!
In any case, it was decided in the Gun Club that Blomsberry brothers, Bilsby, and Major Elphinstone should go straight to San Francisco, and consult as to the means of raising the projectile from the depths of the ocean. These devoted men set off at once; and the railroad, which will soon cross the whole of Central America, took them as far as St. Louis, where the swift mail-coaches awaited them.
At twelve, Captain Blomsberry, assisted by his officers who superintended the observations, took the reckoning in the presence of the delegates of the Gun Club. Then there was a moment of anxiety. Her position decided, the Susquehanna was found to be some minutes westward of the spot where the projectile had disappeared beneath the waves.
This ignited mass grew huger as it came nearer, and fell with the noise of thunder upon the bowsprit of the corvette, which it smashed off close to the stem, and vanished in the waves. A few feet nearer and the Susquehanna would have gone down with all on board. At that moment Captain Blomsberry appeared half-clothed, and rushing in the forecastle, where his officers had preceded him
"I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its completion," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield. "But who would have thought of finding such a depth so near in shore, and only 200 miles from the American coast?" "Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great depression," said Captain Blomsberry.
"In north lat. 20° 7', and west long. 41° 37', the projectile of the Columbiad fell into the Pacific, on December 12th, at 1.17 am. Send instructions. BLOMSBERRY, Commander Susquehanna." Five minutes afterwards the whole town of San Francisco knew the tidings. Before 6 p.m. the different States of the Union had intelligence of the supreme catastrophe.
The people of the New World seem determined to live in peace, and our bellicose Tribune has gone as far as to predict approaching catastrophes due to the scandalous increase of population!" "Yet, Maston," said Colonel Blomsberry, "they are always fighting in Europe to maintain the principle of nationalities!" "What of that?"
The search went on under those conditions until the vitiated state of the air in the apparatus forced the divers to go up again. The hauling in was begun at 6 p.m., and was not terminated before midnight. "We will try again to-morrow," said J.T. Maston as he stepped on to the deck of the corvette. "Yes," answered Captain Blomsberry. "And in another place." "Yes."
The working of these engines was not without danger, for at 20,000 feet below the surface of the water, and under such great pressure, they were exposed to fracture, the consequences of which would be dreadful. J. T. Maston, the brothers Blomsberry, and Engineer Murchison, without heeding these dangers, took their places in the air-chamber.
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