For three weeks I remained in the inside of this enormous boat, or
rather I may say fish tossed upon the waves, but without injury, from
its extreme buoyancy. One morning I was awakened from a sound sleep by
a sudden blow on the outside of my vessel. I imagined that I had come
in contact with an iceberg, but the sound of voices convinced me, that
at last I had fallen in with my fellow creatures. A harpoon was now
driven in, which I narrowly escaped, and a volley of execrations
followed, by which I knew immediately that the people were English.
After a few minutes, they commenced sawing a hole in the side of my
whale boat; and a piece being removed, a head was put in. Fearful of
another harpoon, I had raised up my large white bear's skin as a
defence, and the man perceiving it, immediately withdrew his head,
swearing that there was a white bear in the belly of the whale. The
boat shoved off and they commenced firing musket balls, which pierced my
boat through and through, and I was obliged to lie down at the bottom to
save my life. After about twenty shots, the boat again came along side,
and a man, putting his head in, and perceiving me at the bottom of the
boat, covered over with the bear's skin, imagined that the animal had
been killed, and reported to his companions. With some degree of
apprehension they climbed in at the hole which they had cut, when I
lifted up my bear's skin, and made my appearance, dressed in the black
skin worn by the inhabitants of Whales' Island. This frightened them
still more; one roared out that it was the devil, and they all ran to
make their escape at the hole by which they entered, but in their
eagerness they prevented each other.
It was with difficulty that I convinced them that I was harmless, which
I did at last; and having explained in a few words how I came there,
they permitted me to go with them on board of the ship. The captain was
very sulky when he heard the story; he had imagined it to be a dead
whale, and had ordered it to be towed alongside, to cut off the blubber.
Disappointed in his expectations, he swore that I was a Jonas, who had
come out of the whale's belly, and there would be no luck in the ship,
if I remained. The sailors, whose profits in the voyage were regulated
by the number of fish taken, thought this an excellent reason for
throwing me overboard; and had there not been two sail in sight,
standing towards them, I certainly should have had some more adventures
to narrate. At last they consented to put me on board of one which had
hoisted French colours. She was from Havre, and having twelve fish on
board, was returning home. The captain consented to give me a passage,
and in two months I was once more in my native country.
Such, your highness, were the adventures of my third voyage.
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Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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