The ship had passed the island of St. Pauls, and we were impatiently
waiting for her entrance into the Straits of Sunda, when an accident
occurred that put a stop to the contemplated mutiny, and changed the whole
current, as I devoutly hope, of all my subsequent life. At the calling of
the middle watch, one stormy night, the ship being under close-reefed
topsails at the time, with the mainsail furled, I went on deck as usual,
to my duty. In stepping across the deck, between the launch and the
galley, I had to cross some spars that were lashed there. While on the
pile of spars, the ship lurched suddenly, and I lost my balance, falling
my whole length on deck, upon my left side. Nothing broke the fall, my
arms being raised to seize a hold above my head, and I came down upon deck
with my entire weight, the hip taking the principal force of the fall. The
anguish I suffered was acute, and it was some time before I would allow my
shipmates even to touch me.
After a time, I was carried down into the steerage, where it was found
necessary to sling me on a grating, instead of a hammock. We had a doctor
on board, but he could do nothing for me. My clothes could not be taken
off, and there I lay wet, and suffering to a degree that I should find
difficult to describe, hours and hours.
I was now really on the stool of repentance. In body, I was perfectly
helpless, though my mind seemed more active than it had ever been before.
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