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[[underlined]] 75 [[/underlined]] Now under water shooting by Now briskly leaping from it, Our Sailors soon with barbed Harpoon Completed their preparation To pay these new aquatic friends A mornings salutation. In vain the creature struggling tries To quit the scene of Slaughter. A dozen hands a bow-line seize And lift him from the water. Three several times a writhing fish Was thus in air suspended When breaking from the iron fluke He down again descended. But spreading round a bloody wake Worse fate was soon to meet him. For when a wound a Porpose gets They say, his comrades eat him. Thus it happens oft among Perambulating Fishes Where crafty Slander, when with ease Like men, to carry out their wishes A character has but to wound With her unerring hatchet, And Porpose-like, the world around Fall on, and soon dispatch it Wednesday Augt 1st '49 Clear and light wind from the North East. our passage from the last Port. has been protracted to a now tedious length, by a too constant succession of calms. The passengers have been denied access to the Mate's Log Book since they were put upon an allowance of water. before we could at any time go and see for ourselves the exact Lattitude and Longitude we were in, and indulge a little in speculation