It didn't look
quite fair to give him half; and then I thowt what a lucky thing it
would be for me if he were drowned; and he was drowned, but mind you,
I didn't do it. It was this way. When we got back to th' blow-hole
th' weather was bad. One o' them sou'east gales set in, and th' big
waves dashed agen the rocks, roaring and sending spray right across
th' island. We had packed away all th' seal-skins snug in th' boat
and pulled th' door up from th' bottom of th' chimney before th' gale
started. When we were taking down the rope and tackle and th'
shears, th' water began to come boiling up th' blow hole and sinking
down again. There was a big rush of wind, first up and then down
sucking you in like. It was a ticklish time, and just as we were
going to lower th' shears, th' Port Albert man made a kind of slip,
and was sucked in with the wind, and went head first into the boiling
water and out of sight. I took hold of the slack of a rope, thinking
I'd throw it to him; he might get hold of it, and then I could pull
him out. In about half a minute he was thrown up again by th' next
wave right to the top of th' chimney. I could see his face within
four feet of me. He threw up his hands for something to catch at and
looked at me, and then gave a fearful scream. I didn't throw him the
rope; something stopped me.
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