In Search of an Unknown Race — page 225: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

VAN. 211 b ‘Swing out and lower the gig,” said Captain Peter- son, as with courses and light sails clewed up and hanging in the brails, the ship lazily rose and fell on the heaving breast of the Pacific. In the mysterious way in which stories drift from the cabin to the forecastle, the sailors had become apprised of the truth, and the order was obeyed by the deck hands with even more than their usual alacrity. Captain Peterson in the stern sheets, with Van beside him, looked quite excited as he urged the four strong Oarsmen to renewed efforts, and the light double-ended craft fairly flew over the smooth heaving surface. ‘‘The Rattler for a thousand pounds,” muttered Cap- tain Peterson between his clinched teeth. Van, though comparatively inexperienced, saw as they neared the schooner that Captain Peterson was right. The white paint work, rusty and discolored, had worn off in places, showing the original coating of glossy coal tar below the bends. Across the stern was a band of black, to correspond with that which extended around the schooner’s sides. On it, in very rude lettering, was the name, ‘‘ Viva,” and hailing place, ‘‘Grimsby.” But though the boat was still some little distance away, the rays of the de- clining sun, which shone full on the vessel's transom, showed half obliterated letters. ‘‘Sheer off there!” called some one in a gruff voice, at the sound of which Van and Captain Peterson ex- changed significant glances. And with the words the dwarfed, thickset figure and coarse, repulsive features of Smith appeared at the taff- — GEomichbooks:c