- end_line
- 2089
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2033
- text
- the starlight. Still she swung from side to side, and still sailed on.
Not a little terrified at the sight, superstitious Jarl more than
insinuated that the craft must be a gold-huntress, haunted. But I told
him, that if such were the case, we must board her, come gold or
goblins. In reality, however, I began to think that she must have been
abandoned by her crew; or else, that from sickness, those on board were
incapable of managing her.
After a long and anxious reconnoiter, we came still nearer, using our
oars, but very reluctantly on Jarl’s part; who, while rowing, kept his
eyes over his shoulder, as if about to beach the little Chamois on the
back of a whale as of yore. Indeed, he seemed full as impatient to quit
the vicinity of the vessel, as before he had been anxiously courting
it.
Now, as the silent brigantine again swung round her broadside, I hailed
her loudly. No return. Again. But all was silent. With a few vigorous
strokes, we closed with her, giving yet another unanswered hail; when,
laying the Chamois right alongside, I clutched at the main-chains.
Instantly we felt her dragging us along. Securing our craft by its
painter, I sprang over the rail, followed by Jarl, who had snatched his
harpoon, his favorite arms. Long used with that weapon to overcome the
monsters of the deep, he doubted not it would prove equally serviceable
in any other encounter.
The deck was a complete litter. Tossed about were pearl oyster shells,
husks of cocoa-nuts, empty casks, and cases. The deserted tiller was
lashed; which accounted for the vessel’s yawing. But we could not
conceive, how going large before the wind; the craft could, for any
considerable time, at least, have guided herself without the help of a
hand. Still, the breeze was light and steady.
Now, seeing the helm thus lashed, I could not but distrust the silence
that prevailed. It conjured up the idea of miscreants concealed below,
and meditating treachery; unscrupulous mutineers—Lascars, or
Manilla-men; who, having murdered the Europeans of the crew, might not
be willing to let strangers depart unmolested. Or yet worse, the entire
ship’s company might have been swept away by a fever, its infection
still lurking in the poisoned hull. And though the first conceit, as
the last, was a mere surmise, it was nevertheless deemed prudent to
secure the hatches, which for the present we accordingly barred down
with the oars of our boat. This done, we went about the deck in search
of water. And finding some in a clumsy cask, drank long and freely, and
to our thirsty souls’ content.
The wind now freshening, and the rent sails like to blow from the
yards, we brought the brigantine to the wind, and brailed up the
canvas. This left us at liberty to examine the craft, though,
unfortunately, the night was growing hazy.
All this while our boat was still towing alongside; and I was about to
drop it astern, when Jarl, ever cautious, declared it safer where it
was; since, if there were people on board, they would most likely be
down in the cabin, from the dead-lights of which, mischief might be
done to the Chamois.
- title
- Chunk 2