{"id":"01KG8AKXSY0CJNM0FVEENFN95Y","cid":"bafkreie2l76grreuzrin5b53js5alqmsap6t34vzhl65y253wr5cfxuzsq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":9801,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.842Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":9723,"text":"tattooed in vermilion, near the hollow of the middle joint; and as if\r\nthere was something peculiar in the painted flesh, every vibrating\r\nletter burned so white, that you might read the flaming name in the\r\nflickering ground of blue.\r\n\r\n“Where’s that d—d Miguel?” was now shouted down among us from the\r\nscuttle by the mate, who had just come on deck, and was determined to\r\nhave every man up that belonged to his watch.\r\n\r\n“He’s gone to the harbor where they never weigh anchor,” coughed\r\nJackson. “Come you down, sir, and look.”\r\n\r\nThinking that Jackson intended to beard him, the mate sprang down in a\r\nrage; but recoiled at the burning body as if he had been shot by a\r\nbullet. “My God!” he cried, and stood holding fast to the ladder.\r\n\r\n“Take hold of it,” said Jackson, at last, to the Greenlander; “it must\r\ngo overboard. Don’t stand shaking there, like a dog; take hold of it, I\r\nsay! But stop”—and smothering it all in the blankets, he pulled it\r\npartly out of the bunk.\r\n\r\nA few minutes more, and it fell with a bubble among the phosphorescent\r\nsparkles of the damp night sea, leaving a coruscating wake as it sank.\r\n\r\nThis event thrilled me through and through with unspeakable horror; nor\r\ndid the conversation of the watch during the next four hours on deck at\r\nall serve to soothe me.\r\n\r\nBut what most astonished me, and seemed most incredible, was the\r\ninfernal opinion of Jackson, that the man had been actually dead when\r\nbrought on board the ship; and that knowingly, and merely for the sake\r\nof the month’s advance, paid into his hand upon the strength of the\r\nbill he presented, the body-snatching crimp had knowingly shipped a\r\ncorpse on board of the Highlander, under the pretense of its being a\r\nlive body in a drunken trance. And I heard Jackson say, that he had\r\nknown of such things having been done before. But that a really dead\r\nbody ever burned in that manner, I can not even yet believe. But the\r\nsailors seemed familiar with such things; or at least with the stories\r\nof such things having happened to others.\r\n\r\nFor me, who at that age had never so much as happened to hear of a case\r\nlike this, of animal combustion, in the horrid mood that came over me,\r\nI almost thought the burning body was a premonition of the hell of the\r\nCalvinists, and that Miguel’s earthly end was a foretaste of his\r\neternal condemnation.\r\n\r\nImmediately after the burial, an iron pot of red coals was placed in\r\nthe bunk, and in it two handfuls of coffee were roasted. This done, the\r\nbunk was nailed up, and was never opened again during the voyage; and\r\nstrict orders were given to the crew not to divulge what had taken\r\nplace to the emigrants; but to this, they needed no commands.\r\n\r\nAfter the event, no one sailor but Jackson would stay alone in the\r\nforecastle, by night or by noon; and no more would they laugh or sing,\r\nor in any way make merry there, but kept all their pleasantries for the\r\nwatches on deck. All but Jackson: who, while the rest would be sitting\r\nsilently smoking on their chests, or in their bunks, would look toward\r\nthe fatal spot, and cough, and laugh, and invoke the dead man with\r\nincredible scoffs and jeers. He froze my blood, and made my soul stand\r\nstill.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nCHAPTER XLIX.\r\nCARLO\r\n\r\n\r\nThere was on board our ship, among the emigrant passengers, a\r\nrich-cheeked, chestnut-haired Italian boy, arrayed in a faded,\r\nolive-hued velvet jacket, and tattered trowsers rolled up to his knee.\r\nHe was not above fifteen years of age; but in the twilight pensiveness\r\nof his full morning eyes, there seemed to sleep experiences so sad and\r\nvarious, that his days must have seemed to him years. It was not an eye\r\nlike Harry’s tho’ Harry’s was large and womanly. It shone with a soft\r\nand spiritual radiance, like a moist star in a tropic sky; and spoke of\r\nhumility, deep-seated thoughtfulness, yet a careless endurance of all\r\nthe ills of life.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJSA78862MZ0NS5DXGF21","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKXT69PK7923VCXAE0TEC","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKXSYZWEQVG8XFNEWMCWG","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:20.286Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:33.491Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}