"Now grasp the ropes I have given you" cried Wilder, breathless with his
eagerness to speak.
His words were smothered by the rushing and gurgling of waters. The
vessel made a plunge like a dying whale; and raising its stern high into
the air, glided into the depths of the sea, like the leviathan seeking
his secret places. The motionless boat was lifted with the ship, until
it stood in an attitude fearfully approaching to the perpendicular. As
the wreck descended, the bows of the launch met the element, burying
themselves nearly to filling; but buoyant and light, it rose again, and,
struck powerfully on the stern by the settling mass, the little ark shot
ahead, as though it had been driven by the hand of man. Still, as the
water rushed into the vortex, every thing within its influence yielded
to the suction; and at the next instant, the launch was seen darting
down the declivity, as if eager to follow the vast machine, of which it
had so long formed a dependant, through the same gaping whirlpool, to
the bottom. Then it rose, rocking to the surface, and for a moment, was
tossed and whirled like a bubble circling in the eddies of a pool. After
which, the ocean moaned, and slept again; the moon-beams playing across
its treacherous bosom, sweetly and calm, as the rays are seen to quiver
on a lake that is embedded in sheltering mountains.
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