to leeward much faster than the unfortunate man could
swim, though he was one of the best swimmers I ever beheld.

It was heart-breaking to see the manly but ineffectual exertions made
by this gallant youth to regain the ship; but all his powers only
served to prolong his misery. We saw him nearly a mile to windward,
at one moment riding on the top of the mountainous wave, at the next,
sinking into the deep valley between, till at last we saw him no more!
His sad fate was long deplored in the ship. I thought at the time that
the captain was cruel in not sending a boat for him; but I am now
convinced, from experience, that he submitted only to hard necessity,
and chose the lesser evil of the two.

The fate of this young man was a serious warning to me. I had
become, from habit, so extremely active, and fond of displaying my
newly-acquired gymnastics, called by the sailors "sky-larking" that my
speedy exit was often prognosticated by the old quarter-masters, and
even by the officers. It was clearly understood that I was either to
be drowned or was to break my neck; for the latter I took my chance
pretty fairly, going up and down the rigging like a monkey. Few of the
topmen could equal me in speed, still fewer surpass me in feats of
daring activity. I could run along the topsail yards out to the
yard-arm, go from one mast to the other by the stays, or down on deck
in the twinkling of an eye by the topsail halyards; and, as I knew
myself to be an expert swimmer, I cared little about the chance of
being drowned; but when I witnessed the fate of the poor marine, who I
saw could swim as well, if not better than myself, I became much more
cautious. I perceived that there might be situations in which swimming
could be of no use; and however beloved I might have been by the
sailors, it was evident that, even if they had the inclination, they
might not always have the power to relieve me: from this time, I
became much more guarded in my movements aloft.

A circumstance occurred shortly after we got to sea which afforded
me infinite satisfaction. Murphy, whose disposition led him to bully
every one whom he thought he could master, fixed a quarrel on a very
quiet, gentlemanly young man, a supernumerary midshipman, who had
come on board for a passage to his own ship, then down in the Bay of
Biscay. The young man, resenting this improper behaviour, challenged
Murphy to fight, and the challenge was accepted; but as the
supernumerary