Stories by English Authors: the Sea | Page 4

attended it. I sprang on to the rail, believing I could perceive a dark
mass--like a deeper dye upon the blackness that way--upon the water,
and to steady myself caught hold of the mizzen loyal backstay,
swinging out to my arm's length and peering with all my might. My
excitement was great, and the consternation that posessed the ship's
crew was upon me. As I leaned, the vessel heeled violently to a large
swell caused by the volcanic disturbances. The roll was extraordinarily
severe, heaving the vessel down to her covering-board; and the great
hill of water running silent and in darkness through the sea, so that it
could neither be viewed nor heard, made the sickening lurch a dreadful
surprise and wonder.
It was in that moment that I fell overboard. I suppose my grip of the
backstay relaxed when the ship lay down; but, let the thing have
happened how it would, in a breath I was under water. It is said that the
swiftness of thought is best shown by dreams. This may be so; yet I
cannot believe that thought was ever swifter in a dream than it was in
me ere I came to the surface; for in those few seconds I gathered
exactly what had befallen me, wondered whether my fall had been seen,
whether I should be saved, realised my hopeless condition if I had not
been observed, and, above all, was thinking steadfastly and with horror
of the shark I had not long ago watched stemming in fire past the ship. I
was a very indifferent swimmer, and what little power I had in that way
was like to be paralysed by thoughts of the shark. I rose and fetched a

breath, shook the water out of my eyes, and looked for the ship. She
had been sliding along at the rate of about four knots an hour; but had
she been sailing at ten she could not seem to have gone farther from me
during the brief while I was submerged. From the edge of the water,
where my eyes were, she appeared a towering pale shadow about a mile
off. I endeavoured to scream out; but whether the cold of the plunge
had bereft me of my voice, or that I had swallowed water enough to
stop my pipes, I found I could utter nothing louder than a small groan. I
made several strokes with my arms, and suddenly spied a life-buoy
floating almost twenty yards ahead of me. I made for it in a transport of
joy, for the sight of it was all the assurance I could ask that they knew
on the ship that I had tumbled overboard; and, coming to the buoy, I
seized and threw it over my head, and then got it under my arms and so
floated.
The breeze, such as it was, was on the ship's quarter, and she would
need to describe a considerable arc before she rounded to. I could hear
very faintly the voices on board, the flinging down of coils of rope, the
dim echoes of hurry and commotion. I again sought to exert my lungs,
but could deliver no louder note than a moan. The agony of mind I was
under lest a shark should seize me I cannot express, and my strained
eyeballs would come from the tall shadow of the ship to the the sea
about me in a wild searching of the liquid ebony of it for the sparkling
configuration of the most abhorred of all fish. I could have sworn that
hours elapsed before they lowered a boat from the ship, that seemed to
grow fainter and fainter every time I looked at her, so swallowing is the
character of ocean darkness, and so subtle apparently, so fleet in fact,
the settling away of a fabric under canvas from an object stationary on
the water. I could distinctly hear the rattle of the oars in the rowlocks,
and the splash of the dipped blades, but could not discern the boat. It
was speedily evident, however, that they were pulling wide of me; my
ear could not mistake. Again I tried to shout, but to no purpose.
Manifestly no one had thought of taking my bearings when I fell, and I,
who lay south, was being sought for southwest.
Time passed; the boat never approached me within a quarter of a mile.
They must instantly have heard me, could I have halloed; but my throat
refused its office. I reckoned that they continued to row here and there
for about half an hour, during which they were several times hailed by

the captain, as I supposed; the sound of the oars then died. A little later
I heard the very faint noises made by their hoisting