attached.  Presently I came butt up against something solid, the feel of which gathered all my scattered wits into a compact knub of dread.  It was the whale!  “Any port in a storm,” I murmured, beginning to haul away again on my friendly line.  By dint of hard work I pulled myself right up the sloping, slippery bank of blubber, until I reached the iron, which, as luck would have it, was planted in that side of the carcass now uppermost.  Carcass I said—­well, certainly I had no idea of there being any life remaining within the vast mass beneath me, yet I had hardly time to take a couple of turns round myself with the rope (or whale-line, as I had proved it to be), when I felt the great animal quiver all over, and begin to forge ahead.  I was now composed enough to remember that help could not be far away, and that my rescue, providing that I could keep above water, was but a question of a few minutes.  But I was hardly prepared for the whale’s next move.  Being very near his end, the boat, or boats, had drawn off a bit, I supposed, for I could see nothing of them.  Then I remembered the flurry.  Almost at the same moment it began; and there was I, who with fearful admiration had so often watched the titanic convulsions of a dying cachalot, actually involved in them.  The turns were off my body, but I was able to twist a couple of turns round my arms, which, in case of his sounding, I could readily let go.

Then all was lost in roar and rush, as of the heart of some mighty cataract, during which I was sometimes above, sometimes beneath, the water, but always clinging with every ounce of energy still left, to the line.  Now, one thought was uppermost —­“What if he should breach?” I had seen them do so when in flurry, leaping full twenty feet in the air.  Then I prayed.

Quickly as all the preceding changes had passed came perfect peace.  There I lay, still alive, but so weak that, although I could feel the turns slipping off my arms, and knew that I should slide off the slope of the whale’s side into the sea if they did, I could make no effort to secure myself.  Everything then passed away from me, just as if I had gone to sleep.

I do not at all understand how I kept my position, nor how long, but I awoke to the blessed sound of voices, and saw the second mate’s boat alongside, Very gently and tenderly they lifted me into the boat, although I could hardly help screaming with agony when they touched me, so bruised and broken up did I feel.  My arms must have been nearly torn from their sockets, for the strands of the whale-line had cut deep into their flesh with the strain upon it, while my thigh was swollen enormously from the blow I received at the onset.  Mr. Cruce was the most surprised man I think I ever saw.  For full ten minutes he stared at me with wide-open eyes.  When at last he spoke, it was with difficulty, as if wanting words to express his astonishment.  At last he blurted out, “Whar you bin all de time, ennyhaow?  ’Cawse ef you bin hangin’ on to dat ar wale ev’sence you boat smash, w’y de debbil you hain’t all ter bits, hey?” I smiled feebly, but was too weak to talk, and presently went off again into a dead faint.