nder the water, in that
dense chamber, stagnant with mephitic air, the bruised, stupefied hong
was found.

As is apparent from a previous example, the tendency of the sea-sand
to absorb and conceal a sunken vessel is one of those difficulties
that beset the explorer. But for that the recovery of treasure would
be more frequent, the profession or business more lucrative. The
number of vessels sunk annually, we learn from Lloyd's statistics, is
one hundred thousand tons to the English commercial marine; and out of
551 vessels lost to the royal navy, 391 were sunk. Sir Charles Lyell
estimates that there might be collected in the sea more evidences of
man's art and industry than exist at any one time on the surface of
the earth. But while the sea preserves, it hides. An example of the
kind occurred in the wreck of the Golden Gate, a California steamer
heavy with bullion. It occurred during the war, and the only expert
diver within reach was an expatriated rebel. He had been a man of
fortune, but, venturing too rashly in the Confederacy, he lost by
confiscation and perhaps persecution. However, he was the man for the
insurance companies, and a treaty was concluded, allowing him sixty
per cent. salvage.

The vessel had gone down in tide water. The persistent sea had rocked
and rocked it, and washed the tenacious quicksands about it, and
finally concealed it. The search for it was long and tedious, and
once given up or nearly given up. But as the disappointed diver was
preparing to ascend his foot touched something firm, which proved to
be a part of the wooden frame of the ship.

But even when found the difficulties had only begun. The tenacious,
elastic sand defied all tools or leverage: no petard could blast so
fickle and treacherous a substance. Wit and ingenuity can devise where
ordinary art or engineering has failed. The diver took a lesson from
the neighboring gold-miner, whose hydrostatic pump chisels away the
mountain-side to lay bare the mother quartz. Fitted with such an
engine, he swept the silted sand from the deck of the prize, and dug
it out of the elastic matrix after the fashion of Macduff's birth.

By a great misfortune, incipient jealousies and the eager spirit of
covetousness now showed themselves. It was at first whispered, and
then asseverated, that if the bullion was once recovered the rebel
might whistle for his sixty per cent. salvage. It was a bitter, bad
time--a time of mistrust and suspicion--an