of you"--went below and turned in with my
clothes on. No one was below at this time except the Captain, who
stood at the foot of the companion way viewing the appearance of
the weather.

I had been in my birth about half an hour when I felt a tremendous
shock, which covered me with the muskets that were over head,
boxes, barrels and other cabin articles; the water pouring into my
birth through the quarter. I cleared myself by a violent effort,
ran for the companion way--it was gone--turned--leaped through the
sky light, and was on deck in an instant. We were in the hollow of
a sea, and I could just discern over our main peak the dark top of
the rock, which we had struck, stem on, then going at the rate of
nine knots. This rock, which some of our crew supposed to be a
wreck, was concealed from the helmsman by the mainsail. Two of the
crew were at the pumps--the deck load, which consisted of boards,
scantlings and oars, piled on each side as high as their heads--the
other two people were probably on the quarter deck. It was a
careless watch for a dark night, even at our supposed distance from
the Keys; but we were now in no situation to complain. A part of
our stern and the yawl at the davits, had gone together. I ran
forward to clear the anchors in order to prevent her from ranging
ahead on another rock which I could perceive among the surf; but a
greater part of the bows were gone, and with them the anchors.--The
water was already groaning under the deck--she arose for the last
time on the crest of another sea nearly to the top of the rock,
quivering like a bird under its death-wound. Our Captain and crew
were around the long-boat endeavoring to cut the leashings and
right her, while I secured a compass, an axe, a bucket and several
oars. The next sea we descended she struck; opened fore and aft,
the masts and spars, with all sails standing, thundering against
the rock, and the lumber from below deck cracking and crashing in
every direction. We were all launched overboard on the lumber that
adhered together, clinging hold of the long-boat as the seaman's
last ark of refuge, and endeavoring to right her, which we did in a
few moments; but not without the misfortune of splitting a plank in
her bottom. We all sprang in, bearing with us nothing but the sea
clothes we had on, the few articles before named, and some
fragments of the boat's leashings. The Captain's dog, which a few
moments before had been leaping from plank