The works of Edgar Allan Poe; newly collected and edited, with a memoir, critical introductions, and notes, by Edmund Clarence Stedman and George Edward Woodberry; the illustrations by Albert Edward Sterner.

A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM

level; and this, I suppose, was owing to the speed
at which we revolved.
"The rays of the moon seemed tc search the very
bottom of the profound gulf; but still I could make
out nothing distinctly, on account of a thick mist in
which everything there was enveloped, and over
which there hung a magnificent rainbow, like that
narrow and tottering bridge which Mussulmans say
is the only pathway between Time and Eternity.
This mist, or spray, was no doubt occasioned by the
clashing of the great walls of the funnel, as they all
met together at the bottom - but the yell that went
up to the Heavens from out of that mist, I dare not
attempt to describe.
" Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt
of foam above, had carried us to a great distance
down the slope; but our farther descent was by no
means proportionate. Round and round we swept
-not with any uniform movement but in dizzying
swings and jerks, that sent us sometimes only a few
hundred yards-sometimes nearly the complete circuit of the whirl. Our progress downward, at each
revolution, was slow, but very perceptible.
"Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid
ebony on which we were thus borne, I perceived that
our boat was not the only object in the embrace of the
whirl. Both above and below us were visible fragments of vessels, large masses of building timber and
trunks of trees, with many smaller articles, such as
pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, barrels, and
staves. I have already described the unnatural
curiosity which had taken the place of my original
terrors. It appeared to grow upon me as I drew
nearer and nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began
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