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- 7073
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.027Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7019
- text
- 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.
On the isle’s lone beach they paid him in silver for their passage out,
the stranger having declined to carry them at all except upon that
condition; though willing to take every means to insure the due
fulfillment of his promise. Felipe had striven hard to have this
payment put off to the period of the ship’s return. But in vain. Still
they thought they had, in another way, ample pledge of the good faith
of the Frenchman. It was arranged that the expenses of the passage home
should not be payable in silver, but in tortoises; one hundred
tortoises ready captured to the returning captain’s hand. These the
Cholos meant to secure after their own work was done, against the
probable time of the Frenchman’s coming back; and no doubt in prospect
already felt, that in those hundred tortoises—now somewhere ranging the
isle’s interior—they possessed one hundred hostages. Enough: the vessel
sailed; the gazing three on shore answered the loud glee of the singing
crew; and ere evening, the French craft was hull down in the distant
sea, its masts three faintest lines which quickly faded from Hunilla’s
eye.
The stranger had given a blithesome promise, and anchored it with
oaths; but oaths and anchors equally will drag; naught else abides on
fickle earth but unkept promises of joy. Contrary winds from out
unstable skies, or contrary moods of his more varying mind, or
shipwreck and sudden death in solitary waves; whatever was the cause,
the blithe stranger never was seen again.
- title
- Chunk 2