“It was a beautiful day; the sun shone forth without a cloud to dim his luster, the waves sparkled beneath his influence, and the white plumage of a thousand busy sea-birds became more dazzling with his rays. The isle of Moskoe was close at hand, and looked cheerful and inviting, but the ship was not to approach nearer to its shores; the stream which bore her along never suffered any vessel to pause in its career. And now there arose at some distance ahead of the vessel, a horrible and dismal bellowing. It was the voice of the leviathan in his agony; and when those on deck who had still ears for exterior sounds looked forward to ascertain its cause, they beheld a huge black monster upon the surface of the sea, struggling against the irresistible stream, and with his immense tail lashing the waters into foam, as he vainly strove to escape from destruction. They beheld him borne away by the might of his furious enemy; and they heard his last roar above the noise of the whirlpool, as he was sucked down into the never satisfied abyss, and disappeared from their eyes to be torn to atoms; for such is the fate of everything that seeks the depths of the Maelstrom. “The ship glides along faster and faster; she begins to toss and roll uneasily in the angry rapids that boil around her; her race is nearly run. Terrible! terrible moment! The ship hurries on to her doom with mad impetuosity. She is in the rapids! she hurries along swift as a flash of fire. She is in the whirl of water! round, round, round she goes; her inmates catch hold of her bulwarks and of each other, to steady themselves. And now her bow sprit is under the waves, and a wild shriek of despair rises into the sky! The whirlpool, with greedy jaws, has sucked her under.” The water of the whirlpool is said to be two hundred and fifty feet deep, and at ebb its noise is as loud as a cataract. In 1645, it was so violently agitated by a storm, that in Moskoe the houses were so shaken as to cause the stones to fall to the ground. Fragments of vessels wrecked in the Maelstrom are frequently seen on the coast, brought up by the return of the tide, their edges mashed and jagged as with a saw, which would induce the belief that the bottom is composed of sharp rocks.