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Jack North\'s Treasure Hunt by Roy Rockwood

R >> Roy Rockwood >> Jack North\'s Treasure Hunt

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Produced by Curtis A. Weyant and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team





[Illustration: DOWN THEY PLUNGED SIDE BY SIDE FROM THE ISLAND AND INTO THE
WATER.]




JACK NORTH'S TREASURE HUNT

Or,

Daring Adventures in South America
BY
ROY ROCKWOOD

Author of "The Rival Ocean Divers," "The Cruise of the
Treasure Ship," "A Schoolboy's Pluck," etc.

Illustrated

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
CLEVELAND NEW YORK

Made in U.S.A.


Copyright, 1907, by
CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY
PRESS OF
THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO
CLEVELAND





Contents




I. A Chance for a Position
II. The Test of Strength
III. A Long Trip Proposed
IV. Just in Time
V. On the Island of Robinson Crusoe
VI. A Terrible Mistake
VII. A Plea of the Enemy
VIII. The Lonely Pimento
IX. Jack Becomes an Engineer
X. A Narrow Escape
XI. Under the Head of a Jaguar
XII. Put to the Test
XIII. Precious Moments
XIV. The Attack on the Train
XV. The Treasure Island
XVI. At the Boiling Lake
XVII. In the Nitrate Fields
XVIII. An Alarm of Fire
XIX. Chilians on Both Sides
XX. Preparations for Departure
XXI. A Panic on Shipboard
XXII. The Fate of Plum Plucky
XXIII. Jenny
XXIV. Jack and the Ocelot
XXV. In the Quicksands
XXVI. A Night in the Jungle
XXVII. Jack and the Big Snake
XXVIII. Back from the Dead
XXIX. The Treasure of the Boiling Lake
XXX. A Ride for Life--Conclusion




Jack North's Treasure Hunt




Chapter I

A Chance for a Position



"Where are you going, Jack?"

"To the shops of John Fowler & Company."

"To look for a job?"

"Yes."

"Then you are in luck, for I heard this morning that they want another
striker in the lower shop at once."

"Then I'll strike for the opening at once, and my name is not Jack
North if I don't land it."

"It will be John Slowshanks when you do get it, mind me!" cried out
another voice, from an alley-way near at hand, and before Jack North or
his companion could recover from their surprise the speaker, a tall,
awkward youth of twenty, sped up the street at the top of his speed.

The scene was in Bauton, a large manufacturing city of New England. The
first speaker was a workman at the shops that had been mentioned, but
beyond the fact that he placed the youth before him in the way of getting
work, he needs no special introduction.

The other person was a lad of eighteen, with brown, curly hair, blue eyes,
and a round, robust figure. His name was John North, and he was the son of
a couple in humble circumstances.

"Take care!" cried the man, "that sneak will get in ahead of you, and then
a snap of your little finger for your chance of getting the job at
Fowler's."

Jack North did not stop to hear his friend through. He was very much in
need of a situation, and he knew the young man who had rushed in ahead of
him as a bitter enemy. That fact, coupled with his desire to get work,
caused him to dash up the street as fast as he could run.

Naturally the appearance of the two running at such a headlong pace
aroused the attention of the passers-by, all of whom stopped to see what
it meant. Others rushed out of their houses, offices or workshops to
ascertain the meaning of the race, until the street was lined with
excited, anxious men, women and children.

"Is it fire?" asked an old, gray-headed man, and another, catching only
the sound of the last word, repeated it and thus a wild alarm was quickly
spread.

Meanwhile Jack North had found that he could not overtake his rival. He
was not a fleet runner, while the other had gotten a start of him, which
he could not hope to make up.

But he was too fertile in his resources to despair. In fact he was never
known to give up a contest which he had once fairly entered. This
persistence in whatever he undertook was the secret of Jack North's
wonderful success amid environments which must have discouraged less
courageous hearts.

Still it looked to his enemy, as the latter glanced back to see him
leisurely turn into a side street leading away from their destination,
that he had nothing further to fear from him.

"Thought you would be glad to give in," cried out the delighted seeker of
the situation at the engine shops, and believing that he had nothing
further to fear, the awkward youth slackened his gait to a walk.

Though Jack turned into the alley at a moderate pace, as soon as he had
gone a short distance, he started again into a smart run.

"I shall have farther to go," he thought, "but Fret Offut will think I
have given up, and thus he will let me get in ahead of him."

This seemed the truth, when, at last, Jack came in sight of the low-walled
and scattering buildings belonging to John Fowler & Co., engine builders.

Fret Offut was nowhere in sight, as Jack entered the dark, dingy office at
the lower end of the buildings.

A small sized man, with mutton chop side whiskers, engaged in overhauling
a pile of musty papers, looked up at the entrance of our hero.

"Want a job as striker, eh?" he asked, as Jack stated his errand. "I
believe Henshaw does want another man. I will call him. What is your
name?"

"Alfret Offut, sir. It's me that wants the job, and it's me it belongs
to."

It was Jack North's enemy who spoke, as he paused on the threshold panting
for breath, while glaring at our hero with a baleful look.

"How come you here?" he demanded of Jack, a second later.

"My feet brought me here, and with less slowness than yours, judging by
your appearance," replied young North.

With the arrival of the second person on the scene, the clerk had turned
away to find Henshaw, and while he was gone the rival youths stood glaring
upon each other.

After a short time a big, red-faced, soot-be-grimed man appeared, saying
as he reached them:

"If Offut will come this way I will talk with him."

"Henshaw," said the clerk simply, returning to his work, leaving the
newcomer to attend to the visitors as he thought best.

"Ha--ha!" laughed young Offut, softly, as he followed the foreman, "where
are you now, Jack North?"

Though Jack gave slight token of his feelings, he was more vexed at this
usurpation of his rights than he cared to show. He lost no time in
starting after the others in the direction of the shop. "I'm going on
twenty-one," Offut said, as they stopped at the door, "and there ain't a
chap as can outlift me."

"Beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw," said Jack, brushing up, "but it's I who am
after the job and to whom it belongs. Mr. Jacobs--"

"Is your name Alfret Offut?" interrupted the other youth sharply in the
midst of Jack's speech. "I reckon Henshaw knows who he is talking to." "It
was me Mr. Jacobs recommended the place to, and you are trying to steal it
from me," cried Jack. "You are telling a likely story, Jack North, and if
you say another word I'll hit you. Henshaw called for me, and it's me he's
going to give work."

Mr. Henshaw, who for the first time seemed to realize the situation,
looked surprised, as he gazed from one to the other.

Disliking to raise a fuss Jack remained silent at first, but he felt bound
to say:

"I was first at the office, and I claim--" "You'd claim the earth, as far
as that is concerned, you miserable chick of nobody!" broke in Offut.

The last was more than Jack could stand, and stepping quickly forward, he
cried: "Stop, Fret Offut! you have said enough. I don't want any quarrel
with you, but I am as good as you."

"Are yer?" demanded the fiery Offut, whose greatest delight seemed to be
in provoking a quarrel. "I can lick you out of your boots, and I will do
it before I will let you get in here." By this time Mr. Henshaw, a rather
rough man, as slow as he was of comprehension, was interested in the
dispute, and not averse to encouraging sport of the kind, he said:

"That's it, boys; fight it out. I'll hire the lad that downs the other."

"Then the job is as good as mine!" cried Fret Offut, rushing at Jack with
great bluster and no regard to fairness.




Chapter II

The Test of Strength



If taken unawares, Jack North did not allow his enemy to get very much the
advantage of him. As the other rushed forward, expecting to overpower him
by sheer force, he met him squarely in a hand-to-hand struggle for the
mastery.

Mr. Henshaw seemed delighted, and he cried out:

"Limber up, lads, limber up! A job to him that comes out on top! Hi,
there!"

Sundry other exclamations came from the excited foreman at every change of
the situation, while several spectators, attracted to the place by the
out-cries, gathered about the young contestants, lending their voices to
the confusing sounds of the scene.

While Fret Offut was taller and larger than Jack North, he lacked the
latter's firm-set muscles, and what was of even greater account, his
unflinching determination to win. Our hero never knew what it was to
possess a faint heart, and that is more than half the battle every time.

Thus when young Offut crowded him back against the wall of the building,
and every one present felt sure he must be overpowered, Jack set his lips
more firmly together and renewed his resistance with redoubled effort.

Then, as he struck his foot against a piece of scrap iron and reeled
backward in spite of all he could, his friends groaned, while Fret Offut
cried, exultantly:

"Ho, my fine cub, down you go this time! Henshaw--"

But Mr. Henshaw never knew what was to be said to him, neither did the
young bully ever realize fully just what followed.

Jack, concentrating all the strength he possessed, rallied. He threw out
his right foot in such a way as to catch his antagonist behind his left
knee, when the latter suddenly found himself sinking. At the same time the
grasp on his collar tightened, while with almost superhuman power he was
flung backward. With such force did Jack handle his adversary that he sent
him flying several yards away, where he fell in a pool of dark, slimy
water.

The spectators cheered heartily, while Mr. Henshaw clapped his grimy hands
and shouted at the top of his voice:

"Well done, my hearty! That's a handsome trick and well worth a job."

Fret Offut arose from his unwelcome bath, dripping from head to foot with
the nasty mess, presenting a most unprepossessing appearance.

The foreman was turning back into the shop, followed by Jack, and the
crowd was rapidly dispersing.

"Hold on!" he bawled, "that wasn't fair. I tripped--stop, Henshaw! don't
let my job go to that miserable thief."

Getting no reply to his foolish speech, Offut followed the others into the
shop. His appearance being so ridiculous he was greeted with cries of
derision from the workmen, which only made him the more angry and
belligerent.

"I'll get even with you for this, Jack North!" he cried, "if I follow you
to the end! My father always said your family was the meanest on earth,
and now I know it is so. But you shall hear from me again."

With these bitter words the defeated youth, who really had no one to blame
but himself for his ill-feeling, disappeared, though it was not to be long
before he was to reappear in the stirring life of Jack North, and bring
him such troubles as he could not have foreseen.

It proved that Mr. Henshaw was anxious for another workman, and after
asking Jack a few questions, told the lad he might begin his task at once.

The pay was small, less than five dollars a week, but Jack did not let
that cause him to refuse the opportunity. He needed the money, for his
folks were in poor circumstances, and he went about his work with a stout
heart.

He quickly proved an adept workman, observing, rapid to learn and always
diligent, so much so that the foreman took a strong liking to him.

Several days passed and it became evident to Jack that if he had left one
enemy outside the shop, he had another within, who was ready to improve
every opportunity to trouble him. This was a small, thinfaced man who
worked with him, and whose name was Mires. Besides being physically unable
to carry an even end with him, this workman was prone to shirk every part
of his work that he could, this portion falling largely on Jack to do in
addition to his own.

Jack paid no heed to this, however, but kept about his work as if
everything was all right, until a little incident occurred which
completely changed the aspect of affairs.

Unknown to our hero, there had been a practice of long standing among the
workmen of "testing" every new hand that came in, by playing what was
believed to be a smart trick upon him. The joke consisted in sending the
new hand in company with a fellow workman to bring from a distant part of
the shop a pair of wheels, one of which was of iron and weighed over four
hundred pounds, while its mate was made of wood and finished off to look
exactly like its companion. The workman in the secret always looked out
and got hold of the wooden wheel, which he could carry off with ease,
while his duped associate would struggle over the other to the unbounded
amusement of the lookers-on.

It heightened the effect by selecting a small, weak man to help in the
deception, and Henshaw, liking this joke no less than his men, on the
third day of Jack's apprenticeship, said:

"North, you and Mires bring along them wheels at the lower end. Don't be
all day about it either," speaking with unusual sharpness.

"Yes, sir."

In a moment every one present was watching the scene, beginning to smile
as they saw Mires start with suspicious alacrity toward the wheels. Some
of the men, in order to get as good a view as possible of the expected
exhibition, stationed themselves near at hand, having hard work to
suppress their merriment in advance.

"Purty stout, air ye?" asked Mires, as he and Jack stood by the wheels.

"I never boasted of my strength," replied Jack, beginning to wonder why so
much interest was being manifested over so slight a matter. His surprise
was increased at that moment by discovering Fret Offut among the
spectators, his big mouth reaching almost from ear to ear with an idiotic
grin.

"Come to see the fun!" declared the latter, finding that he had been seen
by Jack.

"I'll take this one," said Mires, stooping over the nearest wheel which
was half buried in dust and dirt.

Then, without any apparent effort, the small sized workman raised the
wheel to his shoulder and walked back from the direction whence they had
come.

"Now see the big gawk lift his!" exclaimed Fret Offut, who had somehow
been let into the secret. Still ignorant of the deception being played
upon him, Jack North bent over to lift the remaining wheel.




Chapter III

A Long Trip Proposed



Having seen Mires carry off the other wheel with comparative ease, Jack
naturally expected to lift the remaining one without trouble.

His amazement may be therefore understood when, at his first effort, he
failed to move it an inch from the floor.

It lay there as solid as if bound down!

His failure was the signal for Fret Offut to break out into a loud laugh,
which was instantly caught up by the workmen, until the whole building
rang with the merriment.

"Baby!" some one cried. "See Mires carry his. North ain't got the strength
of a mouse!"

By that time Mires had reached the opposite end of the shop, and was
putting down his burden to turn and join in the outbursts over the
discomfiture of his young companion.

Jack had now awakened to the realization that he had been the easy victim
of a scheme to cast ridicule upon him.

Mires could never have carried away this wheel. The thought of the trick
which had been played upon him aroused all the latent energy he possessed.
He did not believe the wheel could weigh five hundred pounds, and if it
did not he would lift it, as he believed he could.

Thus, with the shouts and laughter of the spectators ringing in his ears,
Jack stooped for a second attempt to accomplish what no one else had ever
been able to do.

"I'll grunt for you!" called Offut in derision. "Spit on your hands!" said
a workman. Jack compressed his lips for a mighty effort, and his hands
closed on the rim of the wheel, while he concentrated every atom of
strength he had for the herculean task.

The cries of the onlookers suddenly stopped as they saw, to their
amazement, the ponderous object rise from the floor, slowly but surely,
until the young workman held it abreast of him. Not a sound broke the
deathlike stillness, save for the crunching of his own footsteps, as Jack
North walked across the shop and dropped his burden upon the wheel Mires
had placed there.

A loud crash succeeded, the heavy iron wheel having broken the imitation
into kindling wood and smashed into the floor.

The cries of derision were supplemented by loud calls of admiration, which
rang through and through the old building until a perfect din prevailed.

Fret Offut waited to see no more, but stole away unobserved by the
stalwart iron workers, who crowded around their victorious companion with
hearty congratulations. Jack had won the friendship of nearly all by his
feat, while Henshaw at once boasted of the act.

Mires, fancying that the laugh had been turned upon him, and he was about
right, allowed all of the bitterness of his sullen nature to be turned
against the young apprentice. In his wicked heart he vowed he would
humiliate Jack in the eyes of his admirers in some way and at some time.
But no opportunity came for him, as month after month passed.

Jack showed a wonderfully industrious nature, and he never seemed idle.
When not at work he was studying some part of the ponderous machinery
about him, as if anxious to learn all there was to be known about it. The
knowledge he thus obtained was to be of inestimable value to him in the
scenes to come.

This trait of his pleased Henshaw, who, if a rough man, was honest in his
intentions, and he caused Jack's wages to be raised to seven dollars a
week. This was done in opposition to his assistant, who had taken a
strange dislike to him. His reasons for this will become apparent as we
proceed. About that time Jack was surprised to find that Fret Offut had
found employment in the building, though it was more as a helper than as a
regular workman, his chief task being to wheel the scraps of iron and
waste material away and to wait upon the boss of the big steam hammer.

He did not offer to speak to Jack, but the latter soon saw him holding
whispered conversations with Mires and the second boss, Furniss, when he
felt certain by their looks and motions that he was the subject of their
remarks. Once he overheard Offut tell a companion:

"I sha'n't wheel scrap iron always and Jack North won't be boss, either."

Jack had been at the engine works about six months, when he accidentally
learned that the company were planning to ship one of their machines to
South America, and that they were looking about for a suitable person to
send with it, to help unload it properly and set it up. A few days later,
as he was leaving the shop to go home, Henshaw came to him, saying:

"Let me put a flea in your ear, Jack. John Fowler has got his eye on you
for the one to go to South America."

Scarcely any other announcement could have brought greater joy to Jack,
for he had a great desire to travel, and this long journey would take him
away from home for many months, he felt it would be a grand opportunity.
But he knew that Furniss had been working for the place, and he could not
realize that such good fortune was to fall to him, so he said to Henshaw:

"I thought that Furniss was sure of the chance. I heard him say as much
only yesterday." "A fig for Furniss! Old John had a long talk with me this
morning, and I told him you were just the chap for the place, young and
capable. He nodded his head and I could see that you were as good as
taken. Of course we shall miss you, but it's a trip a youngster like you
can't afford to miss."

"I should like to go, Mr. Henshaw, and I thank you for your kind words."

"Don't cost nothing," returned the bluff foreman, as he started homeward.

Jack was too happy over his prospects to mind the baleful looks of Furniss
the next day, or to hear the jibes of Fret Offut. Could he have foreseen
the startling result he must have been bound with dismay.

The following Monday, when the day's work was done and he was leaving the
shop, Mr. Henshaw came along, and slapping him on the shoulder, said: "Let
me congratulate you, my lad. It is just as I said; you are going to South
America,--if you will."

"It seems too good to be true, Mr. Henshaw." "It's the blessed truth and I
know it I don't blame you for feeling well over such an appointment, for
it is something any of us might be glad of. But you deserve it."

The appearance of Furniss checked Jack's reply. He could see the other
understood that he had lost. He had another proof of the fact before he
got home from Fret Offut, who said:

"Feel mighty stuck up, don't yer? But let me tell yer,'twon't do any
good."

This was the first time he had spoken to Jack since he had begun work in
the shops, and our hero made no reply.

The following day, as he was about to leave the shop at the close of his
work, Jack was accosted by Furniss, who asked him to assist him a moment
at the big hammer.

Jack started at once to his help, noticing that the building was
completely deserted at the time, except for the second boss and himself;
even Henshaw, who generally stayed until after the workmen had left, was
gone.

His surprise may be imagined then when he saw Fret Offut step from behind
a huge boiler as he approached. Still he did not dream of any sinister
purpose in the minds of the two, and he was about to stoop to lift a piece
of iron at the request of Furniss, when he discovered a bar of iron so
suspended over his head from the cross timber that a slight movement on
his part was sure to bring it down upon his head.

No sooner had he seen his precarious situation than he started back, when
Fret Offut flung a heavy slug at his feet. The effect was startling, for
the concussion on the floor sent the menacing bar overhead downward with
fearful force.

Jack succeeded in dodging the blow so far that he escaped the full weight
of the falling iron, which struck the floor endwise with a heavy thud. But
before he could get beyond its reach the massive bar tipped over, falling
in such way as to strike him in the side of the head, and felling him
senseless to the floor.

In a moment Furniss and Offut were bending over him with anxious looks on
their grimy countenances.

"Is he killed?" asked the younger of the twain.

Jack answered the question himself by opening his eyes, though he was
still too bewildered to attempt to rise.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"Do what?" questioned Fret Offut. "You know well enough. You fixed that
bar so it would hit me."

"Hear the boy talk!" came from Furniss. "It is true. If I get the chance--"

"Stop, you shan't get us into trouble," yelled the man, in a rage.

"Not much," put in Offut. "Let's teach him a lesson he won't forget!"

"So we will," answered Furniss; and both started forward to attack Jack.




Chapter IV

Just in Time



Though still somewhat dazed by the blow on his head, Jack realized that
the unprincipled twain in their desperation would stop short of no crime
in order to carry out their purpose.

Thus Furniss had barely laid his hand on him before he was on his feet
ready to fight for his life if necessary.

Flinging aside the second boss, he turned to meet the assault of Fret
Offut, whom he caught by the collar and flung headlong upon a pile of
scrap iron and ashes still warm from the furnace.

Shrieking with pain the big youth scrambled to his feet and began to dance
around as if he had a coal of fire in the heel of his shoe.

Furniss rallied to grapple anew with Jack, but though a strong man he
found his match. Used to hard work all of his life, Jack's sinews seemed
like bands of steel and there was no breaking from his grasp.

"Help, Offut--quick!" cried Furniss, as his head was jabbed into the midst
of a box of coal. "He--he'll kill me!" spluttered the discomfited man.

But Fret Offut failed for good reasons to heed the supplications of his
friend.

The next instant Furniss managed to get a hold on Jack which enabled him
to throw him upon the floor.

"Go to South America, will you?" cried the exultant Furniss. "Let that
settle it," and he aimed a furious blow at his victim's head.

But Jack was too nimble to remain still and receive whatever attack the
other might rain upon him, and when Furniss' fist descended it missed its
mark, to strike plump upon the sharp edge of a bar of iron, peeling the
skin on its back from knuckle to wrist.

At the same time Jack turned his adversary and, clearing him, vaulted to
his feet, carrying the other backwards by the impetuous movement and
sending him headfirst into a bucket of water.

Before he could rise Jack had caught him by the throat with one hand, and
he immediately began to "churn" the other's head up and down in the black
water, while the discomfited wretch, trying in vain to break away,
exclaimed in gasps:

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To the untrained eye the damage is barely visible. Yet within the handbound pages of books charting how Europeans travelled to Mesopotamia, Persia and the Mogul empire from the 16th century onwards, the damage caused by one Iranian academic to a priceless British Library collection is irreversible.

Leading scholars at the library are at a loss to explain why Farhad Hakimzadeh, a Harvard-educated businessman, publisher and intellectual, took a scalpel to the leaves of 150 books that have been in the nation's collection for centuries. The monetary damage he caused over seven years is in the region of £400,000 but Dr Kristian Jensen, head of the British and early printed collections at the library, said no price could be placed upon the books and maps that he had defaced and stolen.

"These are historic objects which have been damaged forever," said Jensen. "You cannot undo what he has done and it has compromised a piece of historical evidence which charts the early engagement of Europeans with what we now know as the Middle East and China.

"It makes me extremely angry. This is someone who is extremely rich who has damaged and destroyed something that belongs to everybody."

Hakimzadeh, 60, faces a jail sentence today when he appears at Wood Green magistrates court in London. The Iranian-born academic fled his country after the fall of the Shah and holds a US passport. He has pleaded guilty to 14 specimen charges of stealing maps, pages and illustrations from 10 books at the British Library and four from the Bodleian Library in Oxford dating back to 1998.

When police searched his home in Knightsbridge, west London, last July they discovered some of the missing maps, pages and pictures inserted into less valuable editions of the same books he owned.

Academics at the library were forced to turn detective in June 2006 after a reader who had taken out a copy of Sir Thomas Herbert's book A Relation of Some Yeares Travaille, Begunne Anno 1626 suggested some of its pages had been removed.

Careful examination by experts at the library proved him to be correct and the staff mounted a delicate operation to find out who had been damaging the book and whether other items had suffered the same fate.

Using electronic records, they found all the British Library members who had taken out the book and then examined other works these people had had contact with. They discovered that other works detailing the same periods in history and covering European engagement to the area from modern-day Syria to Bangladesh were also damaged.

Pages had been sliced away close to the spine of the books and maps, one of them worth £32,000, had been removed from chapters, leaving barely noticeable indentations in the paper marking where they had been.

"It was only the books taken out by Hakimzadeh which showed a consistent pattern of damage," said Jensen.

They discovered that Hakimzadeh had taken out 842 books and of these at least 150 had been mutilated. Some of the stolen pages were discovered but many have been lost forever.

The library wrote to Hakimzadeh, who at the time was chief executive of the Iran Heritage Foundation, a charity he formed in 1995 to promote and perserve the history, languages and culture of Iran. He replied saying he had no idea that there was any damage to the books. It was at this point that the library went to the police with the details of the investigation.

Forensic scientists analysed the damaged books and police officers called at Hakimzadeh's Knightsbridge home, where he lived with his wife.

"Some pages were found loose and others had been inserted into books in his own collection," said Jensen, who acccompanied the officers. "Hakimzadeh is eminently characteristic of our traditional groups of readers: he has a profound knowledge of the field. From my point of view, that makes it worse because he actually knew the importance of what he was damaging. What he did was use the cover of serious scholarly purpose to steal historic pieces and abuse our trust."

The library has launched a civil action to sue Hakimzadeh for full compensation.

Defaced books

The rare books that were defaced by Hakimzadeh include:

Historia de la China From the writings of Father Matteo Ricci, an Italian Jesuit who travelled to China in 1582 and became the first western traveller to settle there. First published in Latin in 1615. This copy was printed in Spain in 1621. Ricci learned to speak and write Chinese and his work was the first important and reliable European description of the country.

Novus Orbis An anthology of works by Simon Grynaeus, professor of Greek at Basle. Hakimzadeh removed an engraving of a world map drawn by Hans Holbein the Younger, court painter to Henry VIII.

Mithridates By the English dramatist Nathaniel Lee. Published in 1693.

Ost-indian-und Persianische Reisen By Johann Gottlieb Worm, the German philosopher who accompanied an envoy of the Dutch East India Company sent to the Safavid court in Persia in 1717. He travelled to Isfahan from India via Bandar. Published in 1745.

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