UNCOMFORTABLY NEAR BEING THE LAST. 179 



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 upper- 

 most. 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 



