m him, the harpooner cut the line with the view of
rescuing him from his dangerous situation. But no sooner was this act
performed, than to their extreme mortification they discovered, that
in consequence of some oars being thrown towards their floating
comrade, and others being broken or unshipped by the blow from the
fish, one oar only remained; with which, owing to the force of the
wind, they tried in vain to approach him. A considerable period
elapsed, before any boat from the ship could afford him assistance,
though the men strained every nerve for the purpose. At length, when
they reached him, he was found with his arms stretched over an oar,
almost deprived of sensation.--On his arrival at the ship, he was in a
deplorable condition. His clothes were frozen like mail, and his hair
constituted a helmet of ice. He was immediately conveyed into the
cabin, his clothes taken off, his limbs and body dried and well
rubbed, and a cordial administered which he drank. A dry shirt and
stockings were then put upon him, and he was laid in the captain's
bed. After a few hours sleep he awoke, and appeared considerably
restored, but complained of a painful sensation of cold. He was,
therefore, removed to his own birth, and one of his messmates ordered
to lie on each side of him, whereby the diminished circulation of the
blood was accelerated, and the animal heat restored. The shock on his
constitution, however, was greater than was anticipated.--He recovered
in the course of a few days, so as to be able to engage in his
ordinary pursuits; but many months elapsed before his countenance
exhibited its usual appearance of health.

The Aimwell of Whitby, while cruising the Greenland seas, in the year
1810, had boats in chase of whales on the 26th of May. One of them was
harpooned. But instead of sinking immediately on receiving the wound,
as is the most usual manner of the whale, this individual only dived
for a moment, and rose again beneath the boat, struck it in the most
vicious manner with its fins and tail, stove it, upset it, and then
disappeared. The crew, seven in number, got on the bottom of the boat;
but the unequal action of the lines, which for sometime remained
entangled with the boat, rolled it occasionally over, and thus plunged
the crew repeatedly into the water.--Four of them, after each
immersion, recovered themselves and clung to the boat; but the other
three, one of whom was the only person acquainted with the art