Pulling down the edge of the barrel till the water began to pour into it, I seized it on either side with my hands, and lifting my weight upon them, I doubled my knees.

To this hour I cannot tell how I accomplished it, but the next second I was in the cask, with no other hurt than a scraped shin.

But though I had found a boat, the boat itself was like to sink, for what with my weight and that of the rotten meal, and of the water which had poured over the rim, the edge of the barrel was not now an inch above the level of the sea, and I knew that did another bucketful come aboard, it would no longer bear me.

At that moment also I saw the fin of the shark within four yards, and then felt the barrel shake as the fish struck it with his nose.
Now I began to bail furiously with my hands, and as I bailed, the edge of the cask lifted itself above the water.

When it had risen some two inches, the shark, enraged at my escape, came to the surface, and turning on its side, bit at the tub so that I heard its teeth grate on the wood and iron bands, causing it to heel over and to spin round, shipping more water as it heeled.