Over his schooner of beer K. gathered something of the story.
As he spoke there was a sudden soft jar and jerk, then the schooner was still.
The schooner was wet, and the seas she shipped would put out my fire.
When we got back to the schooner, we found her lifting her anchors.
The schooner ahead of us had to cut, and she shifted her berth outside of us.
The water was now up to my breast, and I knew the schooner must go over.
As he said she was a schooner, however, I thought it must be one of our own craft, and got her direction from him.
The topsail-yard was on the cap, and the schooner now came up into the wind.
Of course we were lodged and fed, in waiting for the schooner to come in.
This shark, I was told, had kept company with me as long as I had been in sight from the schooner.