The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3Poe, Edgar Allan
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The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American
July 30. An excessively hot day, with no wind. An enormous shark
kept close by the hulk during the whole of the forenoon. We made
several unsuccessful attempts to capture him by means of a noose.
Augustus much worse, and evidently sinking as much from want of
proper nourishment as from the effect of his wounds. He
constantly prayed to be relieved from his sufferings, wishing for
nothing but death. This evening we ate the last of our olives,
and found the water in our jug so putrid that we could not
swallow it at all without the addition of wine. Determined to
kill our tortoise in the morning.
July 31. After a night of excessive anxiety and fatigue, owing to
the position of the hulk, we set about killing and cutting up our
tortoise. He proved to be much smaller than we had supposed,
although in good condition,—the whole meat about him not
amounting to more than ten pounds. With a view of preserving a
portion of this as long as possible, we cut it into fine pieces,
and filled with them our three remaining olive jars and the
wine-bottle (all of which had been kept), pouring in afterward
the vinegar from the olives. In this manner we put away about
three pounds of the tortoise, intending not to touch it until we
had consumed the rest. We concluded to restrict ourselves to
about four ounces of the meat per day; the whole would thus last
us thirteen days. A brisk shower, with severe thunder and
lightning, came on about dusk, but lasted so short a time that we
only succeeded in catching about half a pint of water. The whole
of this, by common consent, was given to Augustus, who now
appeared to be in the last extremity. He drank the water from the
sheet as we caught it (we holding it above him as he lay so as to
let it run into his mouth), for we had now nothing left capable
of holding water, unless we had chosen to empty out our wine from
the carboy, or the stale water from the jug. Either of these
expedients would have been resorted to had the shower lasted.
The sufferer seemed to derive but little benefit from the
draught. His arm was completely black from the wrist to the
shoulder, and his feet were like ice. We expected every moment to
see him breathe his last. He was frightfully emaciated; so much
so that, although he weighed a hundred and twenty-seven pounds
upon his leaving Nantucket, he now did not weigh more than forty
or fifty at the farthest. His eyes were sunk far in his head,
being scarcely perceptible, and the skin of his cheeks hung so
loosely as to prevent his masticating any food, or even
swallowing any liquid, without great difficulty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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