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
pale and made no answer) on one side, and seizing the helm, gave the
word, in a firm voice, _Hard-a-lee!_ The men flew to their posts, and
the ship went cleverly about. All this had occupied nearly five
minutes, and it was supposed to be hardly within the bounds of
possibility that any individual could be saved--allowing any to have
been on board the boat. Yet, as the reader has seen, both Augustus and
myself were rescued; and our deliverance seemed to have been brought
about by two of those almost inconceivable pieces of good fortune which
are attributed by the wise and pious to the special interference of
Providence.
While the ship was yet in stays, the mate lowered the jolly-boat and
jumped into her with the very two men, I believe, who spoke up as
having seen me at the helm. They had just left the lee of the vessel
(the moon still shining brightly) when she made a long and heavy roll
to windward, and Henderson, at the same moment, starting up in his
seat, bawled out to his crew to _back water_. He would say nothing
else--repeating his cry impatiently, _back water! back water!_ The men
put back as speedily as possible; but by this time the ship had gone
round, and gotten fully under headway, although all hands on board were
making great exertions to take in sail. In despite of the danger of the
attempt, the mate clung to the main-chains as soon as they came within
his reach. Another huge lurch now brought the starboard side of the
vessel out of water nearly as far as her keel, when the cause of his
anxiety was rendered obvious enough. The body of a man was seen to be
affixed in the most singular manner to the smooth and shining bottom
(the Penguin was coppered and copper-fastened), and beating violently
against it with every movement of the hull. After several ineffectual
efforts, made during the lurches of the ship, and at the imminent risk
of swamping the boat, I was finally disengaged from my perilous
situation and taken on board--for the body proved to be my own. It
appeared that one of the timber-bolts having started and broken a
passage through the copper, it had arrested my progress as I passed
under the ship, and fastened me in so extraordinary a manner to her
bottom. The head of the bolt had made its way through the collar of the
green baize jacket I had on, and through the back part of my neck,
forcing itself out between two sinews and just below the right ear. I
was immediately put to bed--although life seemed to be totally extinct.
There was no surgeon on board. The captain, however, treated me with
every attention--to make amends, I presume, in the eyes of his crew,
for his atrocious behaviour in the previous portion of the adventure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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