Collected Works of Poe | Page 6

Edgar Allan Poe
account of himself, or be made to comprehend the
nature of the accident which had befallen our boat. At length he became

thoroughly aroused, and spoke much of his sensations while in the
water. Upon his first attaining any degree of consciousness, he found
himself beneath the surface, whirling round and round with
inconceivable rapidity, and with a rope wrapped in three or four folds
tightly about his neck. In an instant afterward he felt himself going
rapidly upward, when, his head striking violently against a hard
substance, he again relapsed into insensibility. Upon once more
reviving he was in fuller possession of his reason- this was still,
however, in the greatest degree clouded and confused. He now knew
that some accident had occurred, and that he was in the water, although
his mouth was above the surface, and he could breathe with some
freedom. Possibly, at this period the deck was drifting rapidly before
the wind, and drawing him after it, as he floated upon his back. Of
course, as long as he could have retained this position, it would have
been nearly impossible that he should be drowned. Presently a surge
threw him directly athwart the deck, and this post he endeavored to
maintain, screaming at intervals for help. Just before he was discovered
by Mr. Henderson, he had been obliged to relax his hold through
exhaustion, and, falling into the sea, had given himself up for lost.
During the whole period of his struggles he had not the faintest
recollection of the Ariel, nor of the matters in connexion with the
source of his disaster. A vague feeling of terror and despair had taken
entire possession of his faculties. When he was finally picked up, every
power of his mind had failed him; and, as before said, it was nearly an
hour after getting on board the Penguin before he became fully aware
of his condition. In regard to myself- I was resuscitated from a state
bordering very nearly upon death (and after every other means had
been tried in vain for three hours and a half) by vigorous friction with
flannels bathed in hot oil- a proceeding suggested by Augustus. The
wound in my neck, although of an ugly appearance, proved of little real
consequence, and I soon recovered from its effects.
The Penguin got into port about nine o'clock in the morning, after
encountering one of the severest gales ever experienced off Nantucket.
Both Augustus and myself managed to appear at Mr. Barnard's in time
for breakfast- which, luckily, was somewhat late, owing to the party
over night. I suppose all at the table were too much fatigued themselves

to notice our jaded appearance- of course, it would not have borne a
very rigid scrutiny. Schoolboys, however, can accomplish wonders in
the way of deception, and I verily believe not one of our friends in
Nantucket had the slightest suspicion that the terrible story told by
some sailors in town of their having run down a vessel at sea and
drowned some thirty or forty poor devils, had reference either to the
Ariel, my companion, or myself. We two have since very frequently
talked the matter over- but never without a shudder. In one of our
conversations Augustus frankly confessed to me, that in his whole life
he had at no time experienced so excruciating a sense of dismay, as
when on board our little boat he first discovered the extent of his
intoxication, and felt himself sinking beneath its influence.
~~~ End of Text of Chapter 1 ~~~
CHAPTER 2

IN no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we deduce inferences
with entire certainty, even from the most simple data. It might be
supposed that a catastrophe such as I have just related would have
effectually cooled my incipient passion for the sea. On the contrary, I
never experienced a more ardent longing for the wild adventures
incident to the life of a navigator than within a week after our
miraculous deliverance. This short period proved amply long enough to
erase from my memory the shadows, and bring out in vivid light all the
pleasurably exciting points of color, all the picturesqueness, of the late
perilous accident. My conversations with Augustus grew daily more
frequent and more intensely full of interest. He had a manner of relating
his stories of the ocean (more than one half of which I now suspect to
have been sheer fabrications) well adapted to have weight with one of
my enthusiastic temperament and somewhat gloomy although glowing
imagination. It is strange, too, that he most strongly enlisted my
feelings in behalf of the life of a seaman, when he depicted his more
terrible moments of suffering and despair. For the bright side of the
painting I had a
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 127
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.