Pursued he bids the sable fountain flow,
And, wrapt in clouds, eludes th’ impending foe.
The fish retreats unseen, while self-born night,
With pious shade, befriends her parent’s flight.”
The Nautilus, when he means to sail, discharges a quantity of water from his shell, by which it is rendered lighter than the surrounding medium, and, of course, rises to the surface. The shell forms a kind of boat, and he extends two of his arms upward, which are each furnished at their extremity with an oval membrane, that he unfurls to the wind for a sail. The other six arms hang over the sides of the shell, and supply the place of either oars or rudder, with which he rows himself along. When disposed to dive, he strikes sail, and at once sinks to the bottom. When the weather is calm, he ascends again, and performs his voyage without chart or compass.
“Two feet they upwards raise, and steady keep;
These are the masts and rigging of the ship.
A membrane stretched between supplies the sail,
Bends from the masts, and swells before the gale.
The other feet hang paddling on each side,