{"id":"01KG2TSH22WTF8GX8421G5KCHD","cid":"bafkreiddxug4mj6v47x6nhcawjvungdfbzfzwunanfa7tavfuc7xwhacmq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4457,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.204Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG2T4RHC4E1XKJ12BJRXE8E8","start_line":4385,"text":"CHAPTER XVI\r\n\r\n\r\nAfter dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the bar.\r\nThey went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a soft\r\nplace they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. Sometimes\r\nthey would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They were perfectly\r\nround white things a trifle smaller than an English walnut. They had a\r\nfamous fried-egg feast that night, and another on Friday morning.\r\n\r\nAfter breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and\r\nchased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until\r\nthey were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal\r\nwater of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their\r\nlegs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun.\r\nAnd now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each\r\nother’s faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with\r\naverted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and\r\nstruggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all\r\nwent under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing,\r\nsputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.\r\n\r\nWhen they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the dry,\r\nhot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by and by\r\nbreak for the water again and go through the original performance once\r\nmore. Finally it occurred to them that their naked skin represented\r\nflesh-colored “tights” very fairly; so they drew a ring in the sand and\r\nhad a circus—with three clowns in it, for none would yield this proudest\r\npost to his neighbor.\r\n\r\nNext they got their marbles and played “knucks” and “ringtaw” and\r\n“keeps” till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another\r\nswim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off\r\nhis trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his\r\nankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the\r\nprotection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he\r\nhad found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to\r\nrest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the “dumps,” and\r\nfell to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay\r\ndrowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing “BECKY” in the sand with\r\nhis big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his\r\nweakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He\r\nerased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving\r\nthe other boys together and joining them.\r\n\r\nBut Joe’s spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so\r\nhomesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay\r\nvery near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted,\r\nbut tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready\r\nto tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, he\r\nwould have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of cheerfulness:\r\n\r\n“I bet there’s been pirates on this island before, boys. We’ll explore\r\nit again. They’ve hid treasures here somewhere. How’d you feel to light\r\non a rotten chest full of gold and silver—hey?”\r\n\r\nBut it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply.\r\nTom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was\r\ndiscouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking\r\nvery gloomy. Finally he said:\r\n\r\n“Oh, boys, let’s give it up. I want to go home. It’s so lonesome.”\r\n\r\n“Oh no, Joe, you’ll feel better by and by,” said Tom. “Just think of the\r\nfishing that’s here.”\r\n\r\n“I don’t care for fishing. I want to go home.”\r\n\r\n“But, Joe, there ain’t such another swimming-place anywhere.”\r\n\r\n“Swimming’s no good. I don’t seem to care for it, somehow, when there\r\nain’t anybody to say I sha’n’t go in. I mean to go home.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG2TRB7TQRC4Z5DSJZGV48T2","peer_label":"CHAPTER XVI","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG2T4RHC4E1XKJ12BJRXE8E8","peer_label":"tom_sawyer.txt","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_label":"Test Collection","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG2TSH5DMNA0QKMZ0DWF9A96","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.840Z","ts":"2026-01-28T17:35:36.414Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}