{"id":"01KG8AKY569FG43G60X8EFQ3PD","cid":"bafkreidxf75je522rdyveotgkvo3ihgkibqxn6kvm46lon4v2rj67sz44e","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2041,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":1970,"text":"CHAPTER XIX.\r\nWho Goes There?\r\n\r\n\r\nJarl’s oar showed sixteen notches on the loom, when one evening, as the\r\nexpanded sun touched the horizon’s rim, a ship’s uppermost spars were\r\nobserved, traced like a spider’s web against its crimson disk. It\r\nlooked like a far-off craft on fire.\r\n\r\nIn bright weather at sea, a sail, invisible in the full flood of noon,\r\nbecomes perceptible toward sunset. It is the reverse in the morning. In\r\nsight at gray dawn, the distant vessel, though in reality approaching,\r\nrecedes from view, as the sun rises higher and higher. This holds true,\r\ntill its vicinity makes it readily fall within the ordinary scope of\r\nvision. And thus, too, here and there, with other distant things: the\r\nmore light you throw on them, the more you obscure. Some revelations\r\nshow best in a twilight.\r\n\r\nThe sight of the stranger not a little surprised us. But brightening\r\nup, as if the encounter were welcome, Jarl looked happy and expectant.\r\nHe quickly changed his demeanor, however, upon perceiving that I was\r\nbent upon shunning a meeting.\r\n\r\nInstantly our sails were struck; and calling upon Jarl, who was\r\nsomewhat backward to obey, I shipped the oars; and, both rowing, we\r\nstood away obliquely from our former course.\r\n\r\nI divined that the vessel was a whaler; and hence, that by help of the\r\nglass, with which her look-outs must be momentarily sweeping the\r\nhorizon, they might possibly have descried us; especially, as we were\r\ndue east from the ship; a direction, which at sunset is the one most\r\nfavorable for perceiving a far-off object at sea. Furthermore, our\r\ncanvas was snow-white and conspicuous. To be sure, we could not be\r\ncertain what kind of a vessel it was; but whatever it might be, I, for\r\none, had no mind to risk an encounter; for it was quite plain, that if\r\nthe stranger came within hailing distance, there would be no resource\r\nbut to link our fortunes with hers; whereas I desired to pursue none\r\nbut the Chamois’. As for the Skyeman, he kept looking wistfully over\r\nhis shoulder; doubtless, praying Heaven, that we might not escape what\r\nI sought to avoid.\r\n\r\nNow, upon a closer scrutiny, being pretty well convinced that the\r\nstranger, after all, was steering a nearly westerly course—right away\r\nfrom us—we reset our sail; and as night fell, my Viking’s entreaties,\r\nseconded by my own curiosity, induced me to resume our original course;\r\nand so follow after the vessel, with a view of obtaining a nearer\r\nglimpse, without danger of detection. So, boldly we steered for the\r\nsail.\r\n\r\nBut not gaining much upon her, spite of the lightness of the breeze (a\r\ncircumstance in our favor: the chase being a ship, and we but a boat),\r\nat my comrade’s instigation, we added oars to sails, readily guiding\r\nour way by the former, though the helm was left to itself.\r\n\r\nAs we came nearer, it was plain that the vessel was no whaler; but a\r\nsmall, two-masted craft; in short, a brigantine. Her sails were in a\r\nstate of unaccountable disarray, only the foresail, mainsail, and jib\r\nbeing set. The first was much tattered; and the jib was hoisted but\r\nhalf way up the stay, where it idly flapped, the breeze coming from\r\nover the taffrail. She continually yawed in her course; now almost\r\npresenting her broadside, then showing her stern.\r\n\r\nStriking our sails once more, we lay on our oars, and watched her in\r\nthe starlight. Still she swung from side to side, and still sailed on.\r\n\r\nNot a little terrified at the sight, superstitious Jarl more than\r\ninsinuated that the craft must be a gold-huntress, haunted. But I told\r\nhim, that if such were the case, we must board her, come gold or\r\ngoblins. In reality, however, I began to think that she must have been\r\nabandoned by her crew; or else, that from sickness, those on board were\r\nincapable of managing her.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"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":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:20.646Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:27.320Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}