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- 7048
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- 2026-01-30T07:57:55.413Z
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- structure-extraction-lambda
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- 6993
- text
- owing to the elevation of his spirits; and this again—for truth must
out—to a dram of Peruvian pisco, in guerdon for some kindness done,
secretly administered to him that morning by our mulatto steward. Now,
certainly, pisco does a deal of mischief in the world; yet seeing that,
in the present case, it was the means, though indirect, of rescuing a
human being from the most dreadful fate, must we not also needs admit
that sometimes pisco does a deal of good?
Glancing across the water in the direction pointed out, I saw some
white thing hanging from an inland rock, perhaps half a mile from the
sea.
“It is a bird; a white-winged bird; perhaps a—no; it is—it is a
handkerchief!”
“Ay, a handkerchief!” echoed my comrade, and with a louder shout
apprised the captain.
Quickly now—like the running out and training of a great gun—the long
cabin spy-glass was thrust through the mizzen rigging from the high
platform of the poop; whereupon a human figure was plainly seen upon
the inland rock, eagerly waving towards us what seemed to be the
handkerchief.
Our captain was a prompt, good fellow. Dropping the glass, he lustily
ran forward, ordering the anchor to be dropped again; hands to stand by
a boat, and lower away.
In a half-hour’s time the swift boat returned. It went with six and
came with seven; and the seventh was a woman.
It is not artistic heartlessness, but I wish I could but draw in
crayons; for this woman was a most touching sight; and crayons, tracing
softly melancholy lines, would best depict the mournful image of the
dark-damasked Chola widow.
Her story was soon told, and though given in her own strange language
was as quickly understood; for our captain, from long trading on the
Chilian coast, was well versed in the Spanish. A Cholo, or half-breed
Indian woman of Payta in Peru, three years gone by, with her young
new-wedded husband Felipe, of pure Castilian blood, and her one only
Indian brother, Truxill, Hunilla had taken passage on the main in a
French whaler, commanded by a joyous man; which vessel, bound to the
cruising grounds beyond the Enchanted Isles, proposed passing close by
their vicinity. The object of the little party was to procure tortoise
oil, a fluid which for its great purity and delicacy is held in high
estimation wherever known; and it is well known all along this part of
the Pacific coast. With a chest of clothes, tools, cooking utensils, a
rude apparatus for trying out the oil, some casks of biscuit, and other
things, not omitting two favorite dogs, of which faithful animal all
the Cholos are very fond, Hunilla and her companions were safely landed
at their chosen place; the Frenchman, according to the contract made
ere sailing, engaged to take them off upon returning from a four
months’ cruise in the westward seas; which interval the three
adventurers deemed quite sufficient for their purposes.
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