"I'm a-comin' to you pooty soon. 'Twas along about eight
bells when she struck, and none so dark, for the moon had risen. After
the ship had gone down, I strained my eyes through the driving spray,
to see whether anything was comin' ashore. Presently I seed somethin'
black, driftin' towards the rocks: and lo' ye, 'twas a boat bottom
side up, and all hands gone down. Wal! wal! the Lord knew what was
right: but it's wuss by a deal to _see_ them things than to be in
'em yourself, to my thinkin'. Wal, after a spell I looked agin, and
there was somethin' else a-driftin' looked like a spar, it did: and
somethin' was lashed to it. My heart! 'twas tossed about like a
egg-shell, up and down, and here and thar! 'Twas white, whatever was
lashed to it, and I couldn't take my eyes off'n it. 'It can't be
alive!' I says, 'whatever it is!' I says. 'But I'll get it, if it
takes a leg!' I says. For down in my heart, Jewel, I knew they
wouldn't ha' taken such care of anythin' _but_ what was alive, and
they perishin', but I didn't think it could live in such a sea long
enough to get ashore. Wal, I kep' my eyes on that spar, and I see
that 'twas comin' along by the south side. Then I ran, or crawled,
'cordin' as the wind allowed me, back to the shed, and got a boat-hook
and a coil o' rope; and then I clumb down as far as I dared, on the
south rocks.
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