Another
      huge lurch now brought the starboard side of the vessel out of
      water nearly as far as her keel, when the cause of his anxiety
      was rendered obvious enough. The body of a man was seen to be
      affixed in the most singular manner to the smooth and shining
      bottom (the Penguin was coppered and copper-fastened), and
      beating violently against it with every movement of the hull. After several ineffectual efforts, made during the lurches of the
      ship, and at the imminent risk of swamping the boat I was finally
      disengaged from my perilous situation and taken on board—for the
      body proved to be my own. It appeared that one of the
      timber-bolts having started and broken a passage through the
      copper, it had arrested my progress as I passed under the ship,
      and fastened me in so extraordinary a manner to her bottom. The
      head of the bolt had made its way through the collar of the green
      baize jacket I had on, and through the back part of my neck,
      forcing itself out between two sinews and just below the right
      ear. I was immediately put to bed—although life seemed to be
      totally extinct. There was no surgeon on board. The captain,
      however, treated me with every attention—to make amends, I
      presume, in the eyes of his crew, for his atrocious behaviour in
      the previous portion of the adventure. In the meantime, Henderson had again put off from the ship,
      although the wind was now blowing almost a hurricane. He had not
      been gone many minutes when he fell in with some fragments of our
      boat, and shortly afterward one of the men with him asserted that
      he could distinguish a cry for help at intervals amid the roaring
      of the tempest. This induced the hardy seamen to persevere in
      their search for more than half an hour, although repeated
      signals to return were made them by Captain Block, and although
      every moment on the water in so frail a boat was fraught to them
      with the most imminent and deadly peril. Indeed, it is nearly
      impossible to conceive how the small jolly they were in could
      have escaped destruction for a single instant. She was built,
      however, for the whaling service, and was fitted, as I have since
      had reason to believe, with air-boxes, in the manner of some
      life-boats used on the coast of Wales. After searching in vain for about the period of time just
      mentioned, it was determined to get back to the ship. They had
      scarcely made this resolve when a feeble cry arose from a dark
      object that floated rapidly by. They pursued and soon overtook
      it. It proved to be the entire deck of the Ariel’s cuddy. Augustus was struggling near it, apparently in the last agonies. Upon getting hold of him it was found that he was attached by a
      rope to the floating timber. This rope, it will be remembered, I
      had myself tied around his waist, and made fast to a ringbolt,
      for the purpose of keeping him in an upright position, and my so
      doing, it appeared, had been ultimately the means of preserving
      his life. The Ariel was slightly put together, and in going down
      her frame naturally went to pieces; the deck of the cuddy, as
      might have been expected, was lifted, by the force of the water
      rushing in, entirely from the main timbers, and floated (with
      other fragments, no doubt) to the surface—Augustus was buoyed up
      with it, and thus escaped a terrible death. It was more than an hour after being taken on board the Penguin
      before he could give any 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.