{"id":"01KG8AKT6R2VFX1MNZFTJ3VH3F","cid":"bafkreicbsdgstucx7hllyrny2txyxpnkfvwpwljpeqrz2k6y6p7ecjb4v4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7736,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","start_line":7662,"text":"hillsides, small groups of bullocks were seen; some quietly browsing;\r\nothers slowly winding into the valleys.\r\n\r\nWe went on, directing our course for a slope of these hills, a mile or\r\ntwo further, where the nearest bullocks were seen.\r\n\r\nWe were cautious in keeping to the windward of them; their sense of\r\nsmell and hearing being, like those of all wild creatures, exceedingly\r\nacute.\r\n\r\nAs there was no knowing that we might not surprise some other kind of\r\ngame in the coverts through which we were passing, we crept along\r\nwarily.\r\n\r\nThe wild hogs of the island are uncommonly fierce; and as they often\r\nattack the natives, I could not help following Tonoi’s example of once\r\nin a while peeping in under the foliage. Frequent retrospective glances\r\nalso served to assure me that our retreat was not cut off.\r\n\r\nAs we rounded a clump of bushes, a noise behind them, like the\r\ncrackling of dry branches, broke the stillness. In an instant, Tonoi’s\r\nhand was on a bough, ready for a spring, and Zeke’s finger touched the\r\ntrigger of his piece. Again the stillness was broken; and thinking it\r\nhigh time to get ready, I brought my musket to my shoulder.\r\n\r\n“Look sharp!” cried the Yankee; and dropping on one knee, he brushed\r\nthe twigs aside. Presently, off went his piece; and with a wild snort,\r\na black, bristling boar—his cherry red lip curled up by two glittering\r\ntusks—dashed, unharmed, across the path, and crashed through the\r\nopposite thicket. I saluted him with a charge as he disappeared; but\r\nnot the slightest notice was taken of the civility.\r\n\r\nBy this time, Tonoi, the illustrious descendant of the Bishops of\r\nImeeo, was twenty feet from the ground. “Aramai! come down, you old\r\nfool!” cried the Yankee; “the pesky critter’s on t’other side of the\r\nisland afore this.”\r\n\r\n“I rayther guess,” he continued, as we began reloading, “that we’ve\r\nspoiled sport by firing at that ’ere tarnal hog. Them bullocks heard\r\nthe racket, and are flinging their tails about now on the keen jump.\r\nQuick, Paul, and let’s climb that rock yonder, and see if so be there’s\r\nany in sight.”\r\n\r\nBut none were to be seen, except at such a distance that they looked\r\nlike ants.\r\n\r\nAs evening was now at hand, my companion proposed our returning home\r\nforthwith; and then, after a sound night’s rest, starting in the\r\nmorning upon a good day’s hunt with the whole force of the plantation.\r\n\r\nFollowing another pass in descending into the valley, we passed through\r\nsome nobly wooded land on the face of the mountain.\r\n\r\nOne variety of tree particularly attracted my attention. The dark mossy\r\nstem, over seventy feet high, was perfectly branchless for many feet\r\nabove the ground, when it shot out in broad boughs laden with lustrous\r\nleaves of the deepest green. And all round the lower part of the trunk,\r\nthin, slab-like buttresses of bark, perfectly smooth, and radiating\r\nfrom a common centre, projected along the ground for at least two\r\nyards. From below, these natural props tapered upward until gradually\r\nblended with the trunk itself. There were signs of the wild cattle\r\nhaving sheltered themselves behind them. Zeke called this the canoe\r\ntree; as in old times it supplied the navies of the Kings of Tahiti.\r\nFor canoe building, the woods is still used. Being extremely dense, and\r\nimpervious to worms, it is very durable.\r\n\r\nEmerging from the forest, when half-way down the hillside, we came upon\r\nan open space, covered with ferns and grass, over which a few lonely\r\ntrees were casting long shadows in the setting sun. Here, a piece of\r\nground some hundred feet square, covered with weeds and brambles, and\r\nsounding hollow to the tread, was inclosed by a ruinous wall of stones.\r\nTonoi said it was an almost forgotten burial-place, of great antiquity,\r\nwhere no one had been interred since the islanders had been Christians.\r\nSealed up in dry, deep vaults, many a dead heathen was lying here.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJM0X5X1TW97VPMKQ49XM","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKT6RMFHXY3TD9EBZQ05T","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKT6RR1K3KFS09ESM9HXD","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:16.600Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:30.213Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}