I cannot figure it better
than by asking you to imagine a gigantic mass of pumice-stone,
somewhat flat on top, and shelving on all sides very gently to the
water, lying afloat but steady on the sea. It was of the hue of
pumice, and as clean as an egg-shell, without a grain of calcined
dust or any appearance of scoriae that I could anywhere observe.
It was riddled with holes, some wide and deep--a very honeycomb;
and that I did not break my neck or a limb in staggering walk from
the beach in the darkness, I must ever account the most miraculous
part of my adventure.
But what (when I had my whole wits) riveted my attention, and held
me staring open-mouthed, as though in good truth the apparition of
the devil had risen before me, was the body of a ship leaning on
its bilge, at not more than a gunshot from where I stood, looking
toward the interior. When my eyes first went to the thing I could
not believe them. I imagined it some trick of the volcanic explosion
that had fashioned a portion of the land or rock (as it may be
called) into the likeness of a ship, but, on gazing steadfastly, I
saw that it was indeed a vessel, rendered extraordinarily beautiful
and wonderful by being densely covered with shells of a hundred
different kinds, by which her bulk was enlarged, though her shape
was preserved.
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