{"id":"01KG8AKXANCM0HTJTBCPZ1RK3H","cid":"bafkreidnduecj4widhht3z7xmzyuiwf2m5lchl72qbh4qek4pp4kjkvx4e","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":10587,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","start_line":10512,"text":"CHAPTER LXXVII.\r\nA PARTY OF ROVERS—LITTLE LOO AND THE DOCTOR\r\n\r\n\r\nWhile in Partoowye, we fell in with a band of six veteran rovers,\r\nprowling about the village and harbour, who had just come overland from\r\nanother part of the island.\r\n\r\nA few weeks previous, they had been paid off, at Papeetee, from a\r\nwhaling vessel, on board of which they had, six months before, shipped\r\nfor a single cruise; that is to say, to be discharged at the next port.\r\nTheir cruise was a famous one; and each man stepped upon the beach at\r\nTahiti jingling his dollars in a sock.\r\n\r\nWeary at last of the shore, and having some money left, they clubbed,\r\nand purchased a sail-boat; proposing a visit to a certain uninhabited\r\nisland, concerning which they had heard strange and golden stories. Of\r\ncourse, they never could think of going to sea without a medicine-chest\r\nfilled with flasks of spirits, and a small cask of the same in the hold\r\nin case the chest should give out.\r\n\r\nAway they sailed; hoisted a flag of their own, and gave three times\r\nthree, as they staggered out of the bay of Papeetee with a strong\r\nbreeze, and under all the “muslin” they could carry.\r\n\r\nEvening coming on, and feeling in high spirits and no ways disposed to\r\nsleep, they concluded to make a night of it; which they did; all hands\r\ngetting tipsy, and the two masts going over the side about midnight, to\r\nthe tune of\r\n\r\n“Sailing down, sailing down, On the coast of Barbaree.”\r\n\r\nFortunately, one worthy could stand by holding on to the tiller; and\r\nthe rest managed to crawl about, and hack away the lanyards of the\r\nrigging, so as to break clear from the fallen spars. While thus\r\nemployed, two sailors got tranquilly over the side, and went plumb to\r\nthe bottom, under the erroneous impression that they were stepping upon\r\nan imaginary wharf to get at their work better.\r\n\r\nAfter this, it blew quite a gale; and the commodore, at the helm,\r\ninstinctively kept the boat before the wind; and by so doing, ran over\r\nfor the opposite island of Imeeo. Crossing the channel, by almost a\r\nmiracle they went straight through an opening in the reef, and shot\r\nupon a ledge of coral, where the waters were tolerably smooth. Here\r\nthey lay until morning, when the natives came off to them in their\r\ncanoes. By the help of the islanders, the schooner was hove over on her\r\nbeam-ends; when, finding the bottom knocked to pieces, the adventurers\r\nsold the boat for a trifle to the chief of the district, and went\r\nashore, rolling before them their precious cask of spirits. Its\r\ncontents soon evaporated, and they came to Partoowye.\r\n\r\nThe day after encountering these fellows, we were strolling among the\r\ngroves in the neighbourhood, when we came across several parties of\r\nnatives armed with clumsy muskets, rusty cutlasses, and outlandish\r\nclubs. They were beating the bushes, shouting aloud, and apparently\r\ntrying to scare somebody. They were in pursuit of the strangers, who,\r\nhaving in a single night set at nought all the laws of the place, had\r\nthought best to decamp.\r\n\r\nIn the daytime, Po-Po’s house was as pleasant a lounge as one could\r\nwish. So, after strolling about, and seeing all there was to be seen,\r\nwe spent the greater part of our mornings there; breakfasting late, and\r\ndining about two hours after noon. Sometimes we lounged on the floor of\r\nferns, smoking, and telling stories; of which the doctor had as many as\r\na half-pay captain in the army. Sometimes we chatted, as well as we\r\ncould, with the natives; and, one day—joy to us!—Po-Po brought in three\r\nvolumes of Smollett’s novels, which had been found in the chest of a\r\nsailor, who some time previous had died on the island.\r\n\r\nAmelia!—Peregrine!—you hero of rogues, Count Fathom!—what a debt do we\r\nowe you!\r\n\r\nI know not whether it was the reading of these romances, or the want of\r\nsome sentimental pastime, which led the doctor, about this period, to\r\nlay siege to the heart of the little Loo.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJNJBVQN60JP52BFDZV22","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKXAJ412Y8V41KAC9HRYK","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:19.797Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:32.622Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}