The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket: Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.Poe, Edgar Allan
General
The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket: Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.
Poe, Edgar Allan
Sea stories; Stowaways -- Fiction; Whaling ships -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
The thought instantly occurred to me that the paper was a note from
Augustus, and that some unaccountable accident having happened to
prevent his relieving me from my dungeon, he had devised this method of
acquainting me with the true state of affairs. Trembling with
eagerness, I now commenced another search for my phosphorus matches and
tapers. I had a confused recollection of having put them carefully away
just before falling asleep; and, indeed, previously to my last journey
to the trap, I had been able to remember the exact spot where I had
deposited them. But now I endeavoured in vain to call it to mind, and
busied myself for a full hour in a fruitless and vexatious search for
the missing articles; never, surely, was there a more tantalizing state
of anxiety and suspense. At length, while groping about, with my head
close to the ballast, near the opening of the box, and outside of it, I
perceived a faint glimmering of light in the direction of the steerage.
Greatly surprised, I endeavoured to make my way towards it, as it
appeared to be but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved
with this intention, when I lost sight of the glimmer entirely, and,
before I could bring it into view again, was obliged to feel along by
the box until I had exactly resumed my original situation. Now, moving
my head with caution to and fro, I found that, by proceeding slowly,
with great care, in an opposite direction to that in which I had at
first started, I was enabled to draw near the light, still keeping it
in view. Presently I came directly upon it (having squeezed my way
through innumerable narrow windings), and found that it proceeded from
some fragments of my matches lying in an empty barrel turned upon its
side. I was wondering how they came in such a place, when my hand fell
upon two or three pieces of taper-wax, which had been evidently mumbled
by the dog. I concluded at once that he had devoured the whole of my
supply of candles, and I felt hopeless of being ever able to read the
note of Augustus. The small remnants of the wax were so mashed up among
other rubbish in the barrel, that I despaired of deriving any service
from them, and left them as they were. The phosphorus, of which there
was only a speck or two, I gathered up as well as I could, and returned
with it, after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all the
while remained.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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