{"id":"01KG6YHDDAR9K283AD15B8GFEK","cid":"bafkreihsltkck3zxe76jcuxw3weu4knskr2vbjw5fpukbncp4wq6zksxza","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4724,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 28","source_file":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","start_line":4654,"text":"began to speed through the sea.\r\n\r\nAt this juncture, the left hand of Captain Delano, on one side, again\r\nclutched the half-reclined Don Benito, heedless that he was in a\r\nspeechless faint, while his right-foot, on the other side, ground the\r\nprostrate negro; and his right arm pressed for added speed on the after\r\noar, his eye bent forward, encouraging his men to their utmost.\r\n\r\nBut here, the officer of the boat, who had at last succeeded in beating\r\noff the towing sailors, and was now, with face turned aft, assisting\r\nthe bowsman at his oar, suddenly called to Captain Delano, to see what\r\nthe black was about; while a Portuguese oarsman shouted to him to give\r\nheed to what the Spaniard was saying.\r\n\r\nGlancing down at his feet, Captain Delano saw the freed hand of the\r\nservant aiming with a second dagger—a small one, before concealed in\r\nhis wool—with this he was snakishly writhing up from the boat’s bottom,\r\nat the heart of his master, his countenance lividly vindictive,\r\nexpressing the centred purpose of his soul; while the Spaniard,\r\nhalf-choked, was vainly shrinking away, with husky words, incoherent to\r\nall but the Portuguese.\r\n\r\nThat moment, across the long-benighted mind of Captain Delano, a flash\r\nof revelation swept, illuminating, in unanticipated clearness, his\r\nhost’s whole mysterious demeanor, with every enigmatic event of the\r\nday, as well as the entire past voyage of the San Dominick. He smote\r\nBabo’s hand down, but his own heart smote him harder. With infinite\r\npity he withdrew his hold from Don Benito. Not Captain Delano, but Don\r\nBenito, the black, in leaping into the boat, had intended to stab.\r\n\r\nBoth the black’s hands were held, as, glancing up towards the San\r\nDominick, Captain Delano, now with scales dropped from his eyes, saw\r\nthe negroes, not in misrule, not in tumult, not as if frantically\r\nconcerned for Don Benito, but with mask torn away, flourishing hatchets\r\nand knives, in ferocious piratical revolt. Like delirious black\r\ndervishes, the six Ashantees danced on the poop. Prevented by their\r\nfoes from springing into the water, the Spanish boys were hurrying up\r\nto the topmost spars, while such of the few Spanish sailors, not\r\nalready in the sea, less alert, were descried, helplessly mixed in, on\r\ndeck, with the blacks.\r\n\r\nMeantime Captain Delano hailed his own vessel, ordering the ports up,\r\nand the guns run out. But by this time the cable of the San Dominick\r\nhad been cut; and the fag-end, in lashing out, whipped away the canvas\r\nshroud about the beak, suddenly revealing, as the bleached hull swung\r\nround towards the open ocean, death for the figure-head, in a human\r\nskeleton; chalky comment on the chalked words below, “_Follow your\r\nleader_.”\r\n\r\nAt the sight, Don Benito, covering his face, wailed out: “’Tis he,\r\nAranda! my murdered, unburied friend!”\r\n\r\nUpon reaching the sealer, calling for ropes, Captain Delano bound the\r\nnegro, who made no resistance, and had him hoisted to the deck. He\r\nwould then have assisted the now almost helpless Don Benito up the\r\nside; but Don Benito, wan as he was, refused to move, or be moved,\r\nuntil the negro should have been first put below out of view. When,\r\npresently assured that it was done, he no more shrank from the ascent.\r\n\r\nThe boat was immediately dispatched back to pick up the three swimming\r\nsailors. Meantime, the guns were in readiness, though, owing to the San\r\nDominick having glided somewhat astern of the sealer, only the\r\naftermost one could be brought to bear. With this, they fired six\r\ntimes; thinking to cripple the fugitive ship by bringing down her\r\nspars. But only a few inconsiderable ropes were shot away. Soon the\r\nship was beyond the gun’s range, steering broad out of the bay; the\r\nblacks thickly clustering round the bowsprit, one moment with taunting\r\ncries towards the whites, the next with upthrown gestures hailing the\r\nnow dusky moors of ocean—cawing crows escaped from the hand of the\r\nfowler.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 28"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGRZTEE5859WYJDPVXVM1","peer_type":"intro","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YHDD4XCGKK67Q3V1SRGMS","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YHDD44938W8DAJMJ5Z6FS","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:58:00.618Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:58:05.344Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}