CHAPTER XCII.

THE LAST OF THE JACKET.

Already has White-Jacket chronicled the mishaps and inconveniences,

troubles and tribulations of all sorts brought upon him by that

unfortunate but indispensable garment of his. But now it befalls him to

record how this jacket, for the second and last time, came near proving

his shroud.

Of a pleasant midnight, our good frigate, now somewhere off the Capes

of Virginia, was running on bravely, when the breeze, gradually dying,

left us slowly gliding toward our still invisible port.

Headed by Jack Chase, the quarter-watch were reclining in the top,

talking about the shore delights into which they intended to plunge,

while our captain often broke in with allusions to similar

conversations when he was on board the English line-of-battle ship, the

Asia, drawing nigh to Portsmouth, in England, after the battle of

Navarino.

Suddenly an order was given to set the main-top-gallant-stun’-sail, and

the halyards not being rove, Jack Chase assigned to me that duty. Now

this reeving of the halyards of a main-top-gallant-stun’-sail is a

business that eminently demands sharpsightedness, skill, and celerity.

Consider that the end of a line, some two hundred feet long, is to be

carried aloft, in your teeth, if you please, and dragged far out on the

giddiest of yards, and after being wormed and twisted about through all

sorts of intricacies—turning abrupt corners at the abruptest of

angles—is to be dropped, clear of all obstructions, in a straight

plumb-line right down to the deck. In the course of this business,

there is a multitude of sheeve-holes and blocks, through which you must

pass it; often the rope is a very tight fit, so as to make it like

threading a fine cambric needle with rather coarse thread. Indeed, it

is a thing only deftly to be done, even by day. Judge, then, what it

must be to be threading cambric needles by night, and at sea, upward of

a hundred feet aloft in the air.

With the end of the line in one hand, I was mounting the top-mast

shrouds, when our Captain of the Top told me that I had better off

jacket; but though it was not a very cold night, I had been reclining

so long in the top, that I had become somewhat chilly, so I thought

best not to comply with the hint.

Having reeved the line through all the inferior blocks, I went out with

it to the end of the weather-top-gallant-yard-arm, and was in the act

of leaning over and passing it through the suspended jewel-block there,

when the ship gave a plunge in the sudden swells of the calm sea, and

pitching me still further over the yard, threw the heavy skirts of my

jacket right over my head, completely muffling me. Somehow I thought it

was the sail that had flapped, and, under that impression, threw up my

hands to drag it from my head, relying upon the sail itself to support

me meanwhile. Just then the ship gave another sudden jerk, and,

head-foremost, I pitched from the yard. I knew where I was, from the

rush of the air by my ears, but all else was a nightmare. A bloody film

was before my eyes, through which, ghost-like, passed and repassed my

father, mother, and sisters. An utterable nausea oppressed me; I was

conscious of gasping; there seemed no breath in my body. It was over

one hundred feet that I fell—down, down, with lungs collapsed as in

death. Ten thousand pounds of shot seemed tied to my head, as the

irresistible law of gravitation dragged me, head foremost and straight

as a die, toward the infallible centre of this terraqueous globe. All I

had seen, and read, and heard, and all I had thought and felt in my

life, seemed intensified in one fixed idea in my soul. But dense as

this idea was, it was made up of atoms. Having fallen from the

projecting yard-arm end, I was conscious of a collected satisfaction in

feeling, that I should not be dashed on the deck, but would sink into

the speechless profound of the sea.

With the bloody, blind film before my eyes, there was a still stranger

hum in my head, as if a hornet were there; and I thought to myself,

Great God! this is Death! Yet these thoughts were unmixed with alarm.

Like frost-work that flashes and shifts its scared hues in the sun, all

my braided, blended emotions were in themselves icy cold and calm.

So protracted did my fall seem, that I can even now recall the feeling

of wondering how much longer it would be, ere all was over and I

struck. Time seemed to stand still, and all the worlds seemed poised on

their poles, as I fell, soul-becalmed, through the eddying whirl and

swirl of the maelstrom air.

At first, as I have said, I must have been precipitated head-foremost;

but I was conscious, at length, of a swift, flinging motion of my

limbs, which involuntarily threw themselves out, so that at last I must

have fallen in a heap. This is more likely, from the circumstance, that

when I struck the sea, I felt as if some one had smote me slantingly

across the shoulder and along part of my right side.

As I gushed into the sea, a thunder-boom sounded in my ear; my soul

seemed flying from my mouth. The feeling of death flooded over me with

the billows. The blow from the sea must have turned me, so that I sank

almost feet foremost through a soft, seething foamy lull. Some current

seemed hurrying me away; in a trance I yielded, and sank deeper down

with a glide. Purple and pathless was the deep calm now around me,

flecked by summer lightnings in an azure afar. The horrible nausea was

gone; the bloody, blind film turned a pale green; I wondered whether I

was yet dead, or still dying. But of a sudden some fashionless form

brushed my side—some inert, coiled fish of the sea; the thrill of being

alive again tingled in my nerves, and the strong shunning of death

shocked me through.

For one instant an agonising revulsion came over me as I found myself

utterly sinking. Next moment the force of my fall was expanded; and

there I hung, vibrating in the mid-deep. What wild sounds then rang in

my ear! One was a soft moaning, as of low waves on the beach; the other

wild and heartlessly jubilant, as of the sea in the height of a

tempest. Oh soul! thou then heardest life and death: as he who stands

upon the Corinthian shore hears both the Ionian and the Aegean waves.

The life-and-death poise soon passed; and then I found myself slowly

ascending, and caught a dim glimmering of light.

Quicker and quicker I mounted; till at last I bounded up like a buoy,

and my whole head was bathed in the blessed air.

I had fallen in a line with the main-mast; I now found myself nearly

abreast of the mizzen-mast, the frigate slowly gliding by like a black

world in the water. Her vast hull loomed out of the night, showing

hundreds of seamen in the hammock-nettings, some tossing over ropes,

others madly flinging overboard the hammocks; but I was too far out

from them immediately to reach what they threw. I essayed to swim

toward the ship; but instantly I was conscious of a feeling like being

pinioned in a feather-bed, and, moving my hands, felt my jacket puffed

out above my tight girdle with water. I strove to tear it off; but it

was looped together here and there, and the strings were not then to be

sundered by hand. I whipped out my knife, that was tucked at my belt,

and ripped my jacket straight up and down, as if I were ripping open

myself. With a violent struggle I then burst out of it, and was free.

Heavily soaked, it slowly sank before my eyes.

Sink! sink! oh shroud! thought I; sink forever! accursed jacket that

thou art!

“See that white shark!” cried a horrified voice from the taffrail;

“he’ll have that man down his hatchway! Quick! the _grains!_ the

_grains!_”

The next instant that barbed bunch of harpoons pierced through and

through the unfortunate jacket, and swiftly sped down with it out of

sight.

Being now astern of the frigate, I struck out boldly toward the

elevated pole of one of the life-buoys which had been cut away. Soon

after, one of the cutters picked me up. As they dragged me out of the

water into the air, the sudden transition of elements made my every

limb feel like lead, and I helplessly sunk into the bottom of the boat.

Ten minutes after, I was safe on board, and, springing aloft, was

ordered to reeve anew the stun’-sail-halyards, which, slipping through

the blocks when I had let go the end, had unrove and fallen to the

deck.

The sail was soon set; and, as if purposely to salute it, a gentle

breeze soon came, and the Neversink once more glided over the water, a

soft ripple at her bows, and leaving a tranquil wake behind.

White Jacket; Or, The World on a Man-of-War · 第 92 / 93 章