{"id":"01KG8AKY505NH0T0ZKD1Y91NAX","cid":"bafkreibclisi3zgrn37trcz37ip3kgkfel5pr5vvrg46ihref3g4iuicuu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2146,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":2081,"text":"canvas. This left us at liberty to examine the craft, though,\r\nunfortunately, the night was growing hazy.\r\n\r\nAll this while our boat was still towing alongside; and I was about to\r\ndrop it astern, when Jarl, ever cautious, declared it safer where it\r\nwas; since, if there were people on board, they would most likely be\r\ndown in the cabin, from the dead-lights of which, mischief might be\r\ndone to the Chamois.\r\n\r\nIt was then, that my comrade observed, that the brigantine had no\r\nboats, a circumstance most unusual in any sort of a vessel at sea. But\r\nmarking this, I was exceedingly gratified. It seemed to indicate, as I\r\nhad opined, that from some cause or other, she must have been abandoned\r\nof her crew. And in a good measure this dispelled my fears of foul\r\nplay, and the apprehension of contagion. Encouraged by these\r\nreflections, I now resolved to descend, and explore the cabin, though\r\nsorely against Jarl’s counsel. To be sure, as he earnestly said, this\r\nstep might have been deferred till daylight; but it seemed too\r\nwearisome to wait. So bethinking me of our tinder-box and candles, I\r\nsent him into the boat for them. Presently, two candles were lit; one\r\nof which the Skyeman tied up and down the barbed end of his harpoon; so\r\nthat upon going below, the keen steel might not be far off, should the\r\nlight be blown out by a dastard.\r\n\r\nUnfastening the cabin scuttle, we stepped downward into the smallest\r\nand murkiest den in the world. The altar-like transom, surmounted by\r\nthe closed dead-lights in the stem, together with the dim little sky-\r\nlight overhead, and the somber aspect of every thing around, gave the\r\nplace the air of some subterranean oratory, say a Prayer Room of Peter\r\nthe Hermit. But coils of rigging, bolts of canvas, articles of\r\nclothing, and disorderly heaps of rubbish, harmonized not with this\r\nimpression. Two doors, one on each side, led into wee little state-\r\nrooms, the berths of which also were littered. Among other things, was\r\na large box, sheathed with iron and stoutly clamped, containing a keg\r\npartly filled with powder, the half of an old cutlass, a pouch of\r\nbullets, and a case for a sextant—a brass plate on the lid, with the\r\nmaker’s name. London. The broken blade of the cutlass was very rusty\r\nand stained; and the iron hilt bent in. It looked so tragical that I\r\nthrust it out of sight.\r\n\r\nRemoving a small trap-door, opening into the space beneath, called the\r\n“run,” we lighted upon sundry cutlasses and muskets, lying together at\r\nsixes and sevens, as if pitched down in a hurry.\r\n\r\nCasting round a hasty glance, and satisfying ourselves, that through\r\nthe bulkhead of the cabin, there was no passage to the forward part of\r\nthe hold, we caught up the muskets and cutlasses, the powder keg and\r\nthe pouch of bullets, and bundling them on deck, prepared to visit the\r\nother end of the vessel. Previous to so doing, however, I loaded a\r\nmusket, and belted a cutlass to my side. But my Viking preferred his\r\nharpoon.\r\n\r\nIn the forecastle reigned similar confusion. But there was a snug\r\nlittle lair, cleared away in one corner, and furnished with a grass mat\r\nand bolster, like those used among the Islanders of these seas. This\r\nlittle lair looked to us as if some leopard had crouched there. And as\r\nit turned out, we were not far from right. Forming one side of this\r\nretreat, was a sailor’s chest, stoutly secured by a lock, and monstrous\r\nheavy withal. Regardless of Jarl’s entreaties, I managed to burst the\r\nlid; thereby revealing a motley assemblage of millinery, and outlandish\r\nknick-knacks of all sorts; together with sundry rude Calico\r\ncontrivances, which though of unaccountable cut, nevertheless possessed\r\na certain petticoatish air, and latitude of skirt, betokening them the\r\nhabiliments of some feminine creature; most probably of the human\r\nspecies.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJQXPX7QNG2ZFGY6JY89K","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKY50PH4K41XB8RBEAKTX","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKY4Y854SQS3E60KX6AQ4","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:20.640Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:27.392Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}