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64 Embark'd at Kilimane in a boat. Ascending gliding turbid mountain-slopes, Their toppling hissing foamy summits broke Drenching upon us, and submerged our bark: Giddily slid we deep into the trough, Whose seething waterwalls hid all the masts Of that great vessel which awaited us: We struck the massy bottom with a shock, That made our stout planks quiver; slanting up Another beetling journeying watercliff, Second of three great billows lightning-crown'd. Poor Sebweku, so valiant on land, So wise and skill'd in dealing with the many Tribes of his continent, strove strenuously To be as brave in my fierce water world, Ghostly, unknown, terrific unto him: Yet as that awful play of leaping foam Struck us, and nearly swept us all from life, He clutch'd my knees, crying with face of fear, Faintly illumed by a poor phantom smile, Like a wet timid gleam among wan clouds, "Is this the way you go? is this the way?"