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As
I
dragged
the
mattress
out
of
the
bunk
it
seemed
to
disintegrate
in
mid-air
,
at
the
same
time
bursting
into
flames
.
I
beat
out
the
burning
remnants
of
straw
in
the
bunk
,
then
made
a
dash
for
the
deck
for
fresh
air
.
Several
buckets
of
water
sufficed
to
put
out
the
burning
mattress
in
the
middle
of
the
steerage
floor
;
and
ten
minutes
later
,
when
the
smoke
had
fairly
cleared
,
I
allowed
Maud
to
come
below
.
Wolf
Larsen
was
unconscious
,
but
it
was
a
matter
of
minutes
for
the
fresh
air
to
restore
him
.
We
were
working
over
him
,
however
,
when
he
signed
for
paper
and
pencil
.
"
Pray
do
not
interrupt
me
,
"
he
wrote
.
"
I
am
smiling
.
"
"
I
am
still
a
bit
of
the
ferment
,
you
see
,
"
he
wrote
a
little
later
"
I
am
glad
you
are
as
small
a
bit
as
you
are
,
"
I
said
.
"
Thank
you
,
"
he
wrote
.
"
But
just
think
of
how
much
smaller
I
shall
be
before
I
die
.
"
"
And
yet
I
am
all
here
,
Hump
,
"
he
wrote
with
a
final
flourish
.
"
I
can
think
more
clearly
than
ever
in
my
life
before
.
Nothing
to
disturb
me
.
Concentration
is
perfect
.
I
am
all
here
and
more
than
here
.
"
It
was
like
a
message
from
the
night
of
the
grave
;
for
this
man
's
body
had
become
his
mausoleum
.
And
there
,
in
so
strange
sepulchre
,
his
spirit
fluttered
and
lived
.
It
would
flutter
and
live
till
the
last
line
of
communication
was
broken
,
and
after
that
who
was
to
say
how
much
longer
it
might
continue
to
flutter
and
live
?
"
I
think
my
left
side
is
going
,
"
Wolf
Larsen
wrote
,
the
morning
after
his
attempt
to
fire
the
ship
.
"
The
numbness
is
growing
.
I
can
hardly
move
my
hand
.
You
will
have
to
speak
louder
.
The
last
lines
are
going
down
.
"
"
Are
you
in
pain
?
"
I
asked
.
