Then he took the buoy in both hands, held
it straight out, thrust it edge down into the oozy substance, used it as
a kind of anchor and drew it to him. At first this technique seemed to
advance him somewhat, but presently he appeared merely to disturb the
viscous mass without going forward. He grew acutely discouraged; his
back, shoulders, cramped, ached and burned. The brilliantly lighted
schooner seemed to regress as he progressed. The sun was like an auger
boring into the back of his head. His mind began to wander again, and a
sudden fear came on him lest he should go insane out in this horrible
slime.
A fiery burning on his right foot jerked him back out of his half
delirium, and he knew that an insect of the same kind he had seen a few
minutes before had stung him. He kicked it off convulsively, but the
thrust of his foot brought a wash of new stings.
All of a sudden, his patience, endurance, pluck seemed to give out. This
new torture made him as unreasonably frantic as a baby. He kicked
furiously. He scraped the toe nails of one foot against the flesh of the
other leg. As he did so the animalculae settled on the abraded skin,
like streaks of melted steel. The boy doubled up, like a grub worm
covered with ants, fighting, scraping, twisting, squirming.
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