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Melville, Herman, 1819-1891

"Moby Dick: or, the White Whale"

He substantiates every word.
The ship, however, was by no means a large one: a Russian
craft built on the Siberian coast, and purchased by my uncle
after bartering away the vessel in which he sailed from home.
In that up and down manly book of old-fashioned adventure,
so full, too, of honest wonders--the voyage of Lionel Wafer,
one of ancient Dampier's old chums--I found a little matter
set down so like that just quoted from Langsdorff, that I
cannot forbear inserting it here for a corroborative example,
if such be needed.
Lionel, it seems, was on his way to "John Ferdinando,"
as he calls the modern Juan Fernandes. "In our way thither,"
he says, "about four o'clock in the morning, when we were about
one hundred and fifty leagues from the Main of America, our ship
felt a terrible shock, which put our men in such consternation
that they could hardly tell where they were or what to think;
but every one began to prepare for death. And, indeed, the shock
was so sudden and violent, that we took it for granted the ship
had struck against a rock; but when the amazement was a little over,
we cast the lead, and sounded, but found no ground. ... The
suddenness of the shock made the guns leap in their carriages,
and several of the men were shaken out of their hammocks.


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