{"id":"01KG8AMGEH1F6RH4A0XMQBM8SK","cid":"bafkreiabyoxeqk27scs6iq56pu6k36dp6qnape5oipyyfsacap6sl3inee","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4084,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.270Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":4013,"text":"swung from East to West, in vast arcs of circles, till almost\r\nbreathless. Hornpipes, fandangoes, Donnybrook-jigs, reels, and\r\nquadrilles, were danced under the very nose of the most mighty captain,\r\nand upon the very quarter-deck and poop. Sparring and wrestling, too,\r\nwere all the vogue; _Kentucky bites_ were given, and the _Indian hug_\r\nexchanged. The din frightened the sea-fowl, that flew by with\r\naccelerated wing.\r\n\r\nIt is worth mentioning that several casualties occurred, of which,\r\nhowever, I will relate but one. While the “sky-larking” was at its\r\nheight, one of the fore-top-men—an ugly-tempered devil of a Portuguese,\r\nlooking on—swore that he would be the death of any man who laid violent\r\nhands upon his inviolable person. This threat being overheard, a band\r\nof desperadoes, coming up from behind, tripped him up in an instant,\r\nand in the twinkling of an eye the Portuguese was straddling an oar,\r\nborne aloft by an uproarious multitude, who rushed him along the deck\r\nat a railroad gallop. The living mass of arms all round and beneath him\r\nwas so dense, that every time he inclined one side he was instantly\r\npushed upright, but only to fall over again, to receive another push\r\nfrom the contrary direction. Presently, disengaging his hands from\r\nthose who held them, the enraged seaman drew from his bosom an iron\r\nbelaying-pin, and recklessly laid about him to right and left. Most of\r\nhis persecutors fled; but some eight or ten still stood their ground,\r\nand, while bearing him aloft, endeavoured to wrest the weapon from his\r\nhands. In this attempt, one man was struck on the head, and dropped\r\ninsensible. He was taken up for dead, and carried below to Cuticle, the\r\nsurgeon, while the Portuguese was put under guard. But the wound did\r\nnot prove very serious; and in a few days the man was walking about the\r\ndeck, with his head well bandaged.\r\n\r\nThis occurrence put an end to the “skylarking,” further head-breaking\r\nbeing strictly prohibited. In due time the Portuguese paid the penalty\r\nof his rashness at the gangway; while once again the officers _shipped\r\ntheir quarter-deck faces_.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nCHAPTER XXVI.\r\nTHE PITCH OF THE CAPE.\r\n\r\n\r\nEre the calm had yet left us, a sail had been discerned from the\r\nfore-top-mast-head, at a great distance, probably three leagues or\r\nmore. At first it was a mere speck, altogether out of sight from the\r\ndeck. By the force of attraction, or something else equally\r\ninscrutable, two ships in a calm, and equally affected by the currents,\r\nwill always approximate, more or less. Though there was not a breath of\r\nwind, it was not a great while before the strange sail was descried\r\nfrom our bulwarks; gradually, it drew still nearer.\r\n\r\nWhat was she, and whence? There is no object which so excites interest\r\nand conjecture, and, at the same time, baffles both, as a sail, seen as\r\na mere speck on these remote seas off Cape Horn. A breeze! a breeze!\r\nfor lo! the stranger is now perceptibly nearing the frigate; the\r\nofficer’s spy-glass pronounces her a full-rigged ship, with all sail\r\nset, and coming right down to us, though in our own vicinity the calm\r\nstill reigns.\r\n\r\nShe is bringing the wind with her. Hurrah! Ay, there it is! Behold how\r\nmincingly it creeps over the sea, just ruffling and crisping it.\r\n\r\nOur top-men were at once sent aloft to loose the sails, and presently\r\nthey faintly began to distend. As yet we hardly had steerage-way.\r\nToward sunset the stranger bore down before the wind, a complete\r\npyramid of canvas. Never before, I venture to say, was Cape Horn so\r\naudaciously insulted. Stun’-sails alow and aloft; royals, moon-sails,\r\nand everything else. She glided under our stern, within hailing\r\ndistance, and the signal-quarter-master ran up our ensign to the gaff.\r\n\r\n“Ship ahoy!” cried the Lieutenant of the Watch, through his trumpet.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJQSEG0NG7XBMK0AZEKS5","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMGEH97XVMSTK7HT39XBJ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AMH2NS0NBS4B6TVVDCKE6","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:39.377Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:45.918Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}