The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 146

the ground, but could not
immediately make out what it was. At length we saw that it was the
carcass of the strange animal with the scarlet teeth and claws which
the schooner had picked up at sea on the eighteenth of January. Captain
Guy had had the body preserved for the purpose of stuffing the skin and
taking it to England. I remember he had given some directions about it
just before our making the island, and it had been brought into the
cabin and stowed away in one of the lockers. It had now been thrown on
shore by the explosion; but why it had occasioned so much concern among
the savages was more than we could comprehend. Although they crowded
around the carcass at a little distance, none of them seemed willing to
approach it closely. By-and-by the men with the stakes drove them in a
circle around it, and, no sooner was this arrangement completed, than
the whole of the vast assembly rushed into the interior of the island,
with loud screams of _Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!_


During the six or seven days immediately following we remained in our
hiding-place upon the hill, going out only occasionally, and then with
the greatest precaution, for water and filberts. We had made a kind of
pent-house on the platform, furnishing it with a bed of dry leaves, and
placing in it three large flat stones, which served us for both
fireplace and table. We kindled a fire without difficulty by rubbing
two pieces of dry wood together, the one soft, the other hard. The bird
we had taken in such good season proved excellent eating, although
somewhat tough. It was not an oceanic fowl, but a species of bittern,
with jet black and grizzly plumage, and diminutive wings in proportion
to its bulk. We afterward saw three of the same kind in the vicinity of
the ravine, apparently seeking for the one we had captured; but, as
they never alighted, we had no opportunity of catching them.

As long as this fowl lasted we suffered nothing from our situation; but
it was now entirely consumed, and it became absolutely necessary that
we should look out for provision. The filberts would not satisfy the
cravings of hunger, afflicting us, too, with severe gripings of the
bowels, and, if freely indulged in, with violent headache. We had seen
several large tortoises near the seashore to the eastward of the hill,
and perceived they might be easily taken, if we could get at them
without the observation of the natives. It was resolved, therefore, to
make an attempt

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Text Comparison with Le Corbeau = The Raven

Page 0
_ Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Page 1
»_ Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping--tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:-- Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 2
»_ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-- Merely this and nothing more.
Page 3
» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus.
Page 4
» Alors l'oiseau dit: «Jamais plus.
Page 5
de «Jamais--jamais plus.
Page 6
» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus!»_ "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore-- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a saintly maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Page 7
Laisse inviolé mon abandon! quitte le buste au-dessus de ma porte! ôte ton bec de mon coeur et jette ta forme loin de ma porte!» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus!»_ And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting--still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a Demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted--nevermore! _Et le Corbeau, sans voleter, siége encore--siége encore sur le buste pallide de Pallas, juste au-dessus de la porte de ma chambre, et ses yeux ont toute la semblance des yeux d'un démon qui rêve, et la lumière de la lampe, ruisselant sur lui, projette son ombre à terre: et mon âme, de cette ombre qui gît flottante à terre, ne s'élèvera--jamais plus!_.