The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Augustus was
      not sure that it proceeded from the hold. The doubt, however, was
      sufficient inducement to persevere. He clambered up nearly to the
      orlop deck by means of the stowage, and then, watching for a lull
      in the pitchings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a
      tone as he could command, regardless, for the moment, of being
      overheard by the crew. It will be remembered that on this
      occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely overcome by
      violent agitation as to be incapable of reply. Confident, now,
      that his worst apprehensions were well founded, he descended,
      with a view of getting back to the forecastle without loss of
      time. In his haste some small boxes were thrown down, the noise
      occasioned by which I heard, as will be recollected. He had made
      considerable progress on his return when the fall of the knife
      again caused him to hesitate. He retraced his steps immediately,
      and, clambering up the stowage a second time, called out my name,
      loudly as before, having watched for a lull. This time I found
      voice to answer. Overjoyed at discovering me to be still alive,
      he now resolved to brave every difficulty and danger in reaching
      me. Having extricated himself as quickly as possible from the
      labyrinth of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length
      struck into an opening which promised better, and finally, after
      a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state of utter
      exhaustion. CHAPTER 6


      The leading particulars of this narration were all that Augustus
      communicated to me while we remained near the box. It was not
      until afterward that he entered fully into all the details. He
      was apprehensive of being missed, and I was wild with impatience
      to leave my detested place of confinement. We resolved to make
      our way at once to the hole in the bulkhead, near which I was to
      remain for the present, while he went through to reconnoiter. To
      leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us could endure to
      think of, yet, how to act otherwise was the question. He now
      seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we could not even distinguish
      the sound of his breathing upon applying our ears closely to the
      box. I was convinced that he was dead, and determined to open the
      door. We found him lying at full length, apparently in a deep
      stupor, yet still alive. No time was to be lost, yet I could not
      bring myself to abandon an animal who had now been twice
      instrumental in saving my life, without some attempt at
      preserving him. We therefore dragged him along with us as well as
      we could, although with the greatest difficulty and fatigue;
      Augustus, during part of the time, being forced to clamber over
      the impediments in our way with the huge dog in his arms—a feat
      to which the feebleness of my frame rendered me totally
      inadequate. At length we succeeded in reaching the hole, when
      Augustus got through, and Tiger was pushed in afterward. All was
      found to be safe, and we did not fail to return sincere thanks to
      God for our deliverance from the imminent danger we had escaped. For the present, it was agreed that I should remain near the
      opening, through which my companion could readily supply me with
      a part of his daily provision, and where I could have the
      advantages of breathing an atmosphere comparatively pure. In explanation of some portions of this narrative, wherein I have
      spoken of the stowage of the brig, and which may appear ambiguous
      to some of my readers who may have seen a proper or regular
      stowage, I must here state that the manner in which this most
      important duty had been performed on board the Grampus was a most
      shameful piece of neglect on the part of Captain Barnard, who was
      by no means as careful or as experienced a seaman as the
      hazardous nature of the service on which he was employed would
      seem necessarily to demand. A proper stowage cannot be
      accomplished in a careless manner, and many most disastrous
      accidents, even within the limits of my own experience, have
      arisen from neglect or ignorance in this particular. Coasting
      vessels, in the frequent hurry and bustle attendant upon taking
      in or discharging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from the
      want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point is to
      allow no possibility of the cargo or ballast shifting position
      even in the most violent rollings of the vessel. With this end,
      great attention must be paid, not only to the bulk taken in, but
      to the nature of the bulk, and whether there be a full or only a
      partial cargo. In most kinds of freight the stowage is
      accomplished by means of a screw. Thus, in a load of tobacco or
      flour, the whole is screwed so tightly into the hold of the
      vessel that the barrels or hogsheads, upon discharging, are found
      to be completely flattened, and take some time to regain their
      original shape. This screwing, however, is resorted to
      principally with a view of obtaining more room in the hold; for
      in a full load of any such commodities as flour or tobacco, there
      can be no danger of any shifting whatever, at least none from
      which inconvenience can result. There have been instances,
      indeed, where this method of screwing has resulted in the most
      lamentable consequences, arising from a cause altogether distinct
      from the danger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of
      cotton, for example, tightly screwed while in certain conditions,
      has been known, through the expansion of its bulk, to rend a
      vessel asunder at sea. There can be no doubt either that the same
      result would ensue in the case of tobacco, while undergoing its
      usual course of fermentation, were it not for the interstices
      consequent upon the rotundity of the hogsheads. It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is chiefly to
      be apprehended from shifting, and that precautions should be
      always taken to guard against such misfortune. Only those who
      have encountered a violent gale of wind, or rather who have
      experienced the rolling of a vessel in a sudden calm after the
      gale, can form an idea of the tremendous force of the plunges,
      and of the consequent terrible impetus given to all loose
      articles in the vessel. It is then that the necessity of a
      cautious stowage, when there is a partial cargo, becomes obvious.