- end_line
- 3314
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.535Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3246
- text
- CHAPTER XXIX.
What They Lighted Upon In Further Searching The Craft, And The
Resolution They Came To
Descending into the cabin with Samoa, I bade him hunt up the
brigantine’s log, the captain’s writing-desk, and nautical instruments;
in a word, aught that could throw light on the previous history of the
craft, or aid in navigating her homeward.
But nearly every thing of the kind had disappeared: log, quadrant, and
ship’s papers. Nothing was left but the sextant-case, which Jarl and I
had lighted upon in the state-room.
Upon this, vague though they were, my suspicions returned; and I
closely questioned the Islander concerning the disappearance of these
important articles. In reply, he gave me to understand, that the
nautical instruments had been clandestinely carried down into the
forecastle by Annatoo; and by that indefatigable and inquisitive dame
they had been summarily taken apart for scientific inspection. It was
impossible to restore them; for many of the fixtures were lost,
including the colored glasses, sights, and little mirrors; and many
parts still recoverable, were so battered and broken as to be entirely
useless. For several days afterward, we now and then came across bits
of the quadrant or sextant; but it was only to mourn over their fate.
However, though sextant and quadrant were both unattainable, I did not
so quickly renounce all hope of discovering a chronometer, which, if in
good order, though at present not ticking, might still be made in some
degree serviceable. But no such instrument was to be seen. No: nor to
be heard of; Samoa himself professing utter ignorance.
Annatoo, I threatened and coaxed; describing the chronometer—a live,
round creature like a toad, that made a strange noise, which I
imitated; but she knew nothing about it. Whether she had lighted upon
it unbeknown to Samoa, and dissected it as usual, there was now no way
to determine. Indeed, upon this one point, she maintained an air of
such inflexible stupidity, that if she were really fibbing, her
dead-wall countenance superseded the necessity for verbal deceit.
It may be, however, that in this particular she was wronged; for, as
with many small vessels, the Parki might never have possessed the
instrument in question. All thought, therefore, of feeling our way, as
we should penetrate farther and farther into the watery wilderness, was
necessarily abandoned.
The log book had also formed a portion of Annatoo’s pilferings. It
seems she had taken it into her studio to ponder over. But after
amusing herself by again and again counting over the leaves, and
wondering how so many distinct surfaces could be compacted together in
so small a compass, she had very suddenly conceived an aversion to
literature, and dropped the book overboard as worthless. Doubtless, it
met the fate of many other ponderous tomes; sinking quickly and
profoundly. What Camden or Stowe hereafter will dive for it?
One evening Samoa brought me a quarto half-sheet of yellowish, ribbed
paper, much soiled and tarry, which he had discovered in a dark hole of
the forecastle. It had plainly formed part of the lost log; but all the
writing thereon, at present decipherable, conveyed no information upon
the subject then nearest my heart.
But one could not but be struck by a tragical occurrence, which the
page very briefly recounted; as well, as by a noteworthy pictorial
illustration of the event in the margin of the text. Save the cut,
there was no further allusion to the matter than the following:— “This
day, being calm, Tooboi, one of the Lahina men, went overboard for a
bath, and was eaten up by a shark. Immediately sent forward for his
bag.”
- title
- Chunk 1