{"id":"01KG8AMH6KFHSQA80QMAVAAQ14","cid":"bafkreid4hrfaj4kad7srcbtwv6q6ct5vietns37vkksdo6acwpklb2n234","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":10372,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":10298,"text":"CHAPTER LXV.\r\nA MAN-OF-WAR RACE.\r\n\r\n\r\nWe lay in Rio so long—for what reason the Commodore only knows—that a\r\nsaying went abroad among the impatient sailors that our frigate would\r\nat last ground on the beef-bones daily thrown overboard by the cooks.\r\n\r\nBut at last good tidings came. “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” And bright\r\nand early in the morning up came our old iron, as the sun rose in the\r\nEast.\r\n\r\nThe land-breezes at Rio—by which alone vessels may emerge from the\r\nbay—is ever languid and faint. It comes from gardens of citrons and\r\ncloves, spiced with all the spices of the Tropic of Capricorn. And,\r\nlike that old exquisite, Mohammed, who so much loved to snuff perfumes\r\nand essences, and used to lounge out of the conservatories of Khadija,\r\nhis wife, to give battle to the robust sons of Koriesh; even so this\r\nRio land-breeze comes jaded with sweet-smelling savours, to wrestle\r\nwith the wild Tartar breezes of the sea.\r\n\r\nSlowly we dropped and dropped down the bay, glided like a stately swan\r\nthrough the outlet, and were gradually rolled by the smooth, sliding\r\nbillows broad out upon the deep. Straight in our wake came the tall\r\nmain-mast of the English fighting-frigate, terminating, like a steepled\r\ncathedral, in the bannered cross of the religion of peace; and straight\r\nafter _her_ came the rainbow banner of France, sporting God’s token\r\nthat no more would he make war on the earth.\r\n\r\nBoth Englishmen and Frenchmen were resolved upon a race; and we Yankees\r\nswore by our top-sails and royals to sink their blazing banners that\r\nnight among the Southern constellations we should daily be\r\nextinguishing behind us in our run to the North.\r\n\r\n“Ay,” said Mad Jack, “St. George’s banner shall be as the _Southern\r\nCross_, out of sight, leagues down the horizon, while our gallant\r\nstars, my brave boys, shall burn all alone in the North, like the Great\r\nBear at the Pole! Come on, Rainbow and Cross!”\r\n\r\nBut the wind was long languid and faint, not yet recovered from its\r\nnight’s dissipation ashore, and noon advanced, with the Sugar-Loaf\r\npinnacle in sight.\r\n\r\nNow it is not with ships as with horses; for though, if a horse walk\r\nwell and fast, it generally furnishes good token that he is not bad at\r\na gallop, yet the ship that in a light breeze is outstripped, may sweep\r\nthe stakes, so soon as a t’gallant breeze enables her to strike into a\r\ncanter. Thus fared it with us. First, the Englishman glided ahead, and\r\nbluffly passed on; then the Frenchman politely bade us adieu, while the\r\nold Neversink lingered behind, railing at the effeminate breeze. At one\r\ntime, all three frigates were irregularly abreast, forming a diagonal\r\nline; and so near were all three, that the stately officers on the\r\npoops stiffly saluted by touching their caps, though refraining from\r\nany further civilities. At this juncture, it was a noble sight to\r\nbehold those fine frigates, with dripping breast-hooks, all rearing and\r\nnodding in concert, and to look through their tall spars and wilderness\r\nof rigging, that seemed like inextricably-entangled, gigantic cobwebs\r\nagainst the sky.\r\n\r\nToward sundown the ocean pawed its white hoofs to the spur of its\r\nhelter-skelter rider, a strong blast from the Eastward, and, giving\r\nthree cheers from decks, yards, and tops, we crowded all sail on St.\r\nGeorge and St. Denis.\r\n\r\nBut it is harder to overtake than outstrip; night fell upon us, still\r\nin the rear—still where the little boat was, which, at the eleventh\r\nhour, according to a Rabbinical tradition, pushed after the ark of old\r\nNoah.\r\n\r\nIt was a misty, cloudy night; and though at first our look-outs kept\r\nthe chase in dim sight, yet at last so thick became the atmosphere,\r\nthat no sign of a strange spar was to be seen. But the worst of it was\r\nthat, when last discerned, the Frenchman was broad on our weather-bow,\r\nand the Englishman gallantly leading his van.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJTJSDBMD7ZEK1X031X87","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMH6KK3CZCRN3CCMNN15N","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:40.147Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:51.473Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}