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[page 9, unnumbered:]
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NARRATIVE
OF
A. GORDON PYM.
————————
MY name is
Arthur Gordon Pym.
My father was a respectable trader in sea-stores at Nantucket, where I
was born. My maternal grandfather was an attorney in good practice. He
was fortunate in everything, and had speculated very successfully in
stocks
of the Edgarton New Bank, as it was formerly called. By these and other
means he had managed to lay by a tolerable sum of money. He was more
attached
to myself, I believe, than to any other person in the world, and I
expected
to inherit the most of his property at his death. He sent me, at six
years
of age, to the school of old Mr. Ricketts, a gentleman with only one
arm,
and of eccentric manners — he is well known to almost every person who
has visited New Bedford. I stayed at his school until I was sixteen,
when
I left him for Mr. E. Ronald's academy on the hill. Here I became
intimate
with the son of Mr. Barnard, a sea captain, who generally sailed in the
employ of Lloyd and Vredenburgh — Mr. Barnard is also very well known
in
New Bedford, and has many relations, I am certain, in Edgarton. His son
was named Augustus, and he was nearly two years older than myself. He
had
been on a whaling voyage with his father in the John Donaldson, and was
always talking to me of his adventures in the South Pacific Ocean. I
used
frequently to go home with him, and remain all day, and sometimes all
night.
We occupied the same bed, and he would be sure to keep me awake until
almost
light, [page 10:] telling me stories of the
natives
of the Island of Tinian, and other places he had visited in his
travels.
At last I could not help being interested in what he said, and by
degrees
I felt the greatest desire to go to sea. I owned a sail-boat called the
Ariel, and worth about seventy-five dollars. She had a half-deck or
cuddy,
and was rigged sloop-fashion — I forget her tonnage, but she would hold
ten persons without much crowding. In this boat we were in the habit of
going on some of the maddest freaks in the world; and, when I now think
of them, it appears to me a thousand wonders that I am alive to-day.
I will relate one of these adventures
by way of introduction
to a longer and more momentous narrative. One night there was a party
at
Mr. Barnard's, and both Augustus and myself were not a little
intoxicated
towards the close of it. As usual, in such cases, I took part of his
bed
in preference to going home. He went to sleep, as I thought, very
quietly
(it being near one when the party broke up), and without saying a word
on his favourite topic. It might have been half an hour from the time
of
our getting in bed, and I was just about falling into a doze, when he
suddenly
started up, and swore with a terrible oath that he would not go to
sleep
for any Arthur Pym in Christendom, when there was so glorious a breeze
from the southwest. I never was so astonished in my life, not knowing
what
he intended, and thinking that the wines and liquors he had drunk had
set
him entirely beside himself. He proceeded to talk very coolly, however,
saying he knew that I supposed him intoxicated, but that he was never
more
sober in his life. He was only tired, he added, of lying in bed on such
a fine night like a dog, and was determined to get up and dress, and go
out on a frolic with the boat. I can hardly tell what possessed me, but
the words were no sooner out of his mouth than I felt a thrill of the
greatest
excitement and pleasure, and thought his mad idea one of the most
delightful
and most reasonable things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale,
and the weather was very cold — it being late in October. I sprang out
of bed, nevertheless, in a kind of ecstasy, and told him I was quite as
[page
11:] brave as himself, and quite as tired as he was of lying
in bed like a dog, and quite as ready for any fun or frolic as any
Augustus
Barnard in Nantucket.
We lost no time in getting on our
clothes and hurrying
down to the boat. She was lying at the old decayed wharf by the
lumber-yard
of Pankey & Co., and almost thumping her sides out against the
rough
logs. Augustus got into her and bailed her, for she was nearly half
full
of water. This being done, we hoisted jib and mainsail, kept full, and
started boldly out to sea.
The wind, as I before said, blew
freshly from the
southwest. The night was very clear and cold. Augustus had taken the
helm,
and I stationed myself by the mast, on the deck of the cuddy. We flew
along
at a great rate — neither of us having said a word since casting loose
from the wharf. I now asked my companion what course he intended to
steer,
and what time he thought it probable we should get back. He whistled
for
a few minutes, and then said crustily, "I am going to sea — you
may go home if you think proper." Turning my eyes upon him, I perceived
at once that, in spite of his assumed nonchalance, he was
greatly
agitated. I could see him distinctly by the light of the moon — his
face
was paler than any marble, and his hand shook so excessively that he
could
scarcely retain hold of the tiller. I found that something had gone
wrong,
and became seriously alarmed. At this period I knew little about the
management
of a boat, and was now depending entirely upon the nautical skill of my
friend. The wind, too, had suddenly increased, as we were fast getting
out of the lee of the land — still I was ashamed to betray any
trepidation,
and for almost half an hour maintained a resolute silence. I could
stand
it no longer, however, and spoke to Augustus about the propriety of
turning
back. As before, it was nearly a minute before he made answer, or took
any notice of my suggestion. "By-and-by," said he at length — "time
enough
— home by-and-by." I had expected a similar reply, but there was
something
in the tone of these words which filled me with an indescribable
feeling
of dread. I again [page 12:] looked at the speaker
attentively. His lips were perfectly livid, and his knees shook so
violently
together that he seemed scarcely able to stand. "For God's sake,
Augustus,"
I screamed, now heartily frightened, "what ails you? — what is the
matter?
— what are you going to do?" "Matter!" he stammered, in the
greatest
apparent surprise, letting go the tiller at the same moment, and
falling
forward into the bottom of the boat — "matter! — why, nothing is the —
matter — going home — d—d—don't you see?" The whole truth now flashed
upon
me. I flew to him and raised him up. He was drunk — beastly drunk — he
could no longer either stand, speak, or see. His eyes were perfectly
glazed;
and as I let him go in the extremity of my despair, he rolled like a
mere
log into the bilge-water, from which I had lifted him. It was evident
that,
during the evening, he had drunk far more than I suspected, and that
his
conduct in bed had been the result of a highly-concentrated state of
intoxication
— a state which, like madness, frequently enables the victim to imitate
the outward demeanour of one in perfect possession of his senses. The
coolness
of the night air, however, had had its usual effect — the mental energy
began to yield before its influence — and the confused perception which
he no doubt then had of his perilous situation had assisted in
hastening
the catastrophe. He was now thoroughly insensible, and there was no
probability
that he would be otherwise for many hours.
It is hardly possible to conceive the
extremity of
my terror. The fumes of the wine lately taken had evaporated, leaving
me
doubly timid and irresolute. I knew that I was altogether incapable of
managing the boat, and that a fierce wind and strong ebb tide were
hurrying
us to destruction. A storm was evidently gathering behind us; we had
neither
compass nor provisions; and it was clear that, if we held our present
course,
we should be out of sight of land before daybreak. These thoughts, with
a crowd of others equally fearful, flashed through my mind with a
bewildering
rapidity, and for some moments paralyzed me beyond the possibility of
making
any [page 13:] exertion. The boat was going
through
the water at a terrible rate — full before the wind — no reef in either
jib or mainsail — running her bows completely under the foam. It was a
thousand wonders she did not broach to — Augustus having let go the
tiller,
as I said before, and I being too much agitated to think of taking it
myself.
By good luck, however, she kept steady, and gradually I recovered some
degree of presence of mind. Still the wind was increasing fearfully;
and
whenever we rose from a plunge forward, the sea behind fell combing
over
our counter, and deluged us with water. I was so utterly benumbed, too,
in every limb, as to be nearly unconscious of sensation. At length I
summoned
up the resolution of despair, and rushing to the mainsail, let it go by
the run. As might have been expected, it flew over the bows, and,
getting
drenched with water, carried away the mast short off by the board. This
latter accident alone saved me from instant destruction. Under the jib
only, I now boomed along before the wind, shipping heavy seas
occasionally
over the counter, but relieved from the terror of immediate death. I
took
the helm, and breathed with greater freedom as I found that there yet
remained
to us a chance of ultimate escape. Augustus still lay senseless in the
bottom of the boat; and as there was imminent danger of his drowning
(the
water being nearly a foot deep just where he fell), I contrived to
raise
him partially up, and keep him in a sitting position, by passing a rope
round his waist, and lashing it to a ringbolt in the deck of the cuddy.
Having thus arranged everything as well as I could in my chilled and
agitated
condition, I recommended myself to God, and made up my mind to bear
whatever
might happen with all the fortitude in my power.
Hardly had I come to this resolution,
when, suddenly,
a loud and long scream or yell, as if from the throats of a thousand
demons,
seemed to pervade the whole atmosphere around and above the boat. Never
while I live shall I forget the intense agony of terror I experienced
at
that moment. My hair stood erect on my head — I felt the blood
congealing
in my veins — my heart ceased [page 14:] utterly
to
beat, and without having once raised my eyes to learn the source of my
alarm, I tumbled headlong and insensible upon the body of my fallen
companion.
I found myself, upon reviving, in the
cabin of a
large whaling-ship (the Penguin) bound to Nantucket. Several persons
were
standing over me, and Augustus, paler than death, was busily occupied
in
chafing my hands. Upon seeing me open my eyes, his exclamations of
gratitude
and joy excited alternate laughter and tears from the rough-looking
personages
who were present. The mystery of our being in existence was now soon
explained.
We had been run down by the whaling-ship, which was close hauled,
beating
up to Nantucket with every sail she could venture to set, and
consequently
running almost at right angles to our own course. Several men were on
the
look-out forward, but did not perceive our boat until it was an
impossibility
to avoid coming in contact — their shouts of warning upon seeing us
were
what so terribly alarmed me. The huge ship, I was told, rode
immediately
over us with as much ease as our own little vessel would have passed
over
a feather, and without the least perceptible impediment to her
progress.
Not a scream arose from the deck of the victim — there was a slight
grating
sound to be heard mingling with the roar of wind and water, as the
frail
bark which was swallowed up rubbed for a moment along the keel of her
destroyer
— but this was all. Thinking our boat (which it will be remembered was
dismasted) some mere shell cut adrift as useless, the captain (Captain
E. T. V. Block of New London) was for proceeding on his course without
troubling himself further about the matter. Luckily, there were two of
the look-out who swore positively to having seen some person at our
helm,
and represented the possibility of yet saving him. A discussion ensued,
when Block grew angry, and, after a while, said that "it was no
business
of his to be eternally watching for egg-shells; that the ship should not
put about for any such nonsense; and if there was a man run down, it
was
nobody's fault but his own — he might drown and be d—d," or some
languge
to that effect. Henderson, [page 15:] the first
mate,
now took the matter up, being justly indignant, as well as the whole
ship's
crew, at a speech evincing so base a degree of heartless atrocity. He
spoke
plainly, seeing himself upheld by the men, told the captain he
considered
him a fit subject for the gallows, and that he would disobey his orders
if he were hanged for it the moment he set his foot on shore. He strode
aft, jostling Block (who turned very pale and made no answer) on one
side,
and seizing the helm, gave the word, in a firm voice, Hard-a-lee!
The men flew to their posts, and the ship went cleverly about. All this
had occupied nearly five minutes, and it was supposed to be hardly
within
the bounds of possibility that any individual could be saved — allowing
any to have been on board the boat. Yet, as the reader has seen, both
Augustus
and myself were rescued; and our deliverance seemed to have been
brought
about by two of those almost inconceivable pieces of good fortune which
are attributed by the wise and pious to the special interference of
Providence.
While the ship was yet in stays, the
mate lowered
the jolly-boat and jumped into her with the very two men, I believe,
who
spoke up as having seen me at the helm. They had just left the lee of
the
vessel (the moon still shining brightly) when she made a long and heavy
roll to windward, and Henderson, at the same moment, starting up in his
seat, bawled out to his crew to back water. He would say
nothing
else — repeating his cry impatiently, back water! back water!
The
men put back as speedily as possible; but by this time the ship had
gone
round, and gotten fully under headway, although all hands on board were
making great exertions to take in sail. In despite of the danger of the
attempt, the mate clung to the main-chains as soon as they came within
his reach. 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), [page 16:] 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 which
floated
rapidly by. They [page 17:] 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 round 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 be 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 endeavoured to
maintain, [page
18:] 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. |
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