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Let's learn about via these 7 free stories. They are ordered by most time reading created on HackerNoon. Visit the to find the most read stories about any technology. Davis Baer /Learn Repo 1. Founder Interviews: Stephen Tse of Harmony.one <em>A serial founder who sold a startup to Apple and worked on infrastructure projects at Google, Harmony.one founder & CEO Stephen Tse has raised an $18M seed round and assembled one of the top engineering teams to build a next-generation high-performance blockchain protocol.</em> 2. Founder Interviews: Lingke Wang of Ethos Lingke Wang and the Ethos team have recently raised over $46 million in order to simplify and modernize the archaic life insurance industry. 3. Founder Interviews: Joe Mahavuthivanij of Mythic Markets 4. Founder Interviews: Francisco Homem de Mello of Qulture.Rocks 5. Founder Interviews: David Karandish of Jane.ai 6. Founder Interviews: Jeremy Burton of Wonolo 7. Founders Interviews: Will Martino of Kadena Thank you for checking out the 7 most read stories about Davis Baer on HackerNoon. to find the most read stories about any technology. Visit the /Learn Repo

7 Stories To Learn About Davis Baer

Rainbow Valley by L. M. Montgomery, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . MRS. ALEC DAVIS MAKES A CALL CHAPTER XIV. MRS. ALEC DAVIS MAKES A CALL John Meredith walked slowly home. At first he thought a little about Rosemary, but by the time he reached Rainbow Valley he had forgotten all about her and was meditating on a point regarding German theology which Ellen had raised. He passed through Rainbow Valley and knew it not. The charm of Rainbow Valley had no potency against German theology. When he reached the manse he went to his study and took down a bulky volume in order to see which had been right, he or Ellen. He remained immersed in its mazes until dawn, struck a new trail of speculation and pursued it like a sleuth hound for the next week, utterly lost to the world, his parish and his family. He read day and night; he forgot to go to his meals when Una was not there to drag him to them; he never thought about Rosemary or Ellen again. Old Mrs. Marshall, over-harbour, was very ill and sent for him, but the message lay unheeded on his desk and gathered dust. Mrs. Marshall recovered but never forgave him. A young couple came to the manse to be married and Mr. Meredith, with unbrushed hair, in carpet slippers and faded dressing gown, married them. To be sure, he began by reading the funeral service to them and got along as far as “ashes to ashes and dust to dust” before he vaguely suspected that something was wrong. “Dear me,” he said absently, “that is strange—very strange.” The bride, who was very nervous, began to cry. The bridegroom, who was not in the least nervous, giggled. “Please, sir, I think you’re burying us instead of marrying us,” he said. “Excuse me,” said Mr. Meredith, as it it did not matter much. He turned up the marriage service and got through with it, but the bride never felt quite properly married for the rest of her life. He forgot his prayer-meeting again—but that did not matter, for it was a wet night and nobody came. He might even have forgotten his Sunday service if it had not been for Mrs. Alec Davis. Aunt Martha came in on Saturday afternoon and told him that Mrs. Davis was in the parlour and wanted to see him. Mr. Meredith sighed. Mrs. Davis was the only woman in Glen St. Mary church whom he positively detested. Unfortunately, she was also the richest, and his board of managers had warned Mr. Meredith against offending her. Mr. Meredith seldom thought of such a worldly matter as his stipend; but the managers were more practical. Also, they were astute. Without mentioning money, they contrived to instil into Mr. Meredith’s mind a conviction that he should not offend Mrs. Davis. Otherwise, he would likely have forgotten all about her as soon as Aunt Martha had gone out. As it was, he turned down his Ewald with a feeling of annoyance and went across the hall to the parlour. Mrs. Davis was sitting on the sofa, looking about her with an air of scornful disapproval. What a scandalous room! There were no curtains on the window. Mrs. Davis did not know that Faith and Una had taken them down the day before to use as court trains in one of their plays and had forgotten to put them up again, but she could not have accused those windows more fiercely if she had known. The blinds were cracked and torn. The pictures on the walls were crooked; the rugs were awry; the vases were full of faded flowers; the dust lay in heaps—literally in heaps. “What are we coming to?” Mrs. Davis asked herself, and then primmed up her unbeautiful mouth. Jerry and Carl had been whooping and sliding down the banisters as she came through the hall. They did not see her and continued whooping and sliding, and Mrs. Davis was convinced they did it on purpose. Faith’s pet rooster ambled through the hall, stood in the parlour doorway and looked at her. Not liking her looks, he did not venture in. Mrs. Davis gave a scornful sniff. A pretty manse, indeed, where roosters paraded the halls and stared people out of countenance. “Shoo, there,” commanded Mrs. Davis, poking her flounced, changeable-silk parasol at him. Adam shooed. He was a wise rooster and Mrs. Davis had wrung the necks of so many roosters with her own fair hands in the course of her fifty years that an air of the executioner seemed to hang around her. Adam scuttled through the hall as the minister came in. Mr. Meredith still wore slippers and dressing gown, and his dark hair still fell in uncared-for locks over his high brow. But he looked the gentleman he was; and Mrs. Alec Davis, in her silk dress and beplumed bonnet, and kid gloves and gold chain looked the vulgar, coarse-souled woman she was. Each felt the antagonisn of the other’s personality. Mr. Meredith shrank, but Mrs. Davis girded up her loins for the fray. She had come to the manse to propose a certain thing to the minister and she meant to lose no time in proposing it. She was going to do him a favour—a great favour—and the sooner he was made aware of it the better. She had been thinking about it all summer and had come to a decision at last. This was all that mattered, Mrs. Davis thought. When she decided a thing it was decided. Nobody else had any say in the matter. That had always been her attitude. When she had made her mind up to marry Alec Davis she had married him and that was the end to it. Alec had never known how it happened, but what odds? So in this case—Mrs. Davis had arranged everything to her own satisfaction. Now it only remained to inform Mr. Meredith. “Will you please shut that door?” said Mrs. Davis, unprimming her mouth slightly to say it, but speaking with asperity. “I have something important to say, and I can’t say it with that racket in the hall.” Mr. Meredith shut the door meekly. Then he sat down before Mrs. Davis. He was not wholly aware of her yet. His mind was still wrestling with Ewald’s arguments. Mrs. Davis sensed this detachment and it annoyed her. “I have come to tell you, Mr. Meredith,” she said aggressively, “that I have decided to adopt Una.” “To—adopt—Una!” Mr. Meredith gazed at her blankly, not understanding in the least. “Yes. I’ve been thinking it over for some time. I have often thought of adopting a child, since my husband’s death. But it seemed so hard to get a suitable one. It is very few children I would want to take into my home. I wouldn’t think of taking a home child—some outcast of the slums in all probability. And there is hardly ever any other child to be got. One of the fishermen down at the harbour died last fall and left six youngsters. They tried to get me to take one, but I soon gave them to understand that I had no idea of adopting trash like that. Their grandfather stole a horse. Besides, they were all boys and I wanted a girl—a quiet, obedient girl that I could train up to be a lady. Una will suit me exactly. She would be a nice little thing if she was properly looked after—so different from Faith. I would never dream of adopting Faith. But I’ll take Una and I’ll give her a good home, and up-bringing, Mr. Meredith, and if she behaves herself I’ll leave her all my money when I die. Not one of my own relatives shall have a cent of it in any case, I’m determined on that. It was the idea of aggravating them that set me to thinking of adopting a child as much as anything in the first place. Una shall be well dressed and educated and trained, Mr. Meredith, and I shall give her music and painting lessons and treat her as if she was my own.” Mr. Meredith was wide enough awake by this time. There was a faint flush in his pale cheek and a dangerous light in his fine dark eyes. Was this woman, whose vulgarity and consciousness of money oozed out of her at every pore, actually asking him to give her Una—his dear little wistful Una with Cecilia’s own dark-blue eyes—the child whom the dying mother had clasped to her heart after the other children had been led weeping from the room. Cecilia had clung to her baby until the gates of death had shut between them. She had looked over the little dark head to her husband. “Take good care of her, John,” she had entreated. “She is so small—and sensitive. The others can fight their way—but the world will hurt her. Oh, John, I don’t know what you and she are going to do. You both need me so much. But keep her close to you—keep her close to you.” These had been almost her last words except a few unforgettable ones for him alone. And it was this child whom Mrs. Davis had coolly announced her intention of taking from him. He sat up straight and looked at Mrs. Davis. In spite of the worn dressing gown and the frayed slippers there was something about him that made Mrs. Davis feel a little of the old reverence for “the cloth” in which she had been brought up. After all, there was a certain divinity hedging a minister, even a poor, unworldly, abstracted one. “I thank you for your kind intentions, Mrs. Davis,” said Mr. Meredith with a gentle, final, quite awful courtesy, “but I cannot give you my child.” Mrs. Davis looked blank. She had never dreamed of his refusing. “Why, Mr. Meredith,” she said in astonishment. “You must be cr—you can’t mean it. You must think it over—think of all the advantages I can give her.” “There is no need to think it over, Mrs. Davis. It is entirely out of the question. All the worldly advantages it is in your power to bestow on her could not compensate for the loss of a father’s love and care. I thank you again—but it is not to be thought of.” Disappointment angered Mrs. Davis beyond the power of old habit to control. Her broad red face turned purple and her voice trembled. “I thought you’d be only too glad to let me have her,” she sneered. “Why did you think that?” asked Mr. Meredith quietly. “Because nobody ever supposed you cared anything about any of your children,” retorted Mrs. Davis contemptuously. “You neglect them scandalously. It is the talk of the place. They aren’t fed and dressed properly, and they’re not trained at all. They have no more manners than a pack of wild Indians. You never think of doing your duty as a father. You let a stray child come here among them for a fortnight and never took any notice of her—a child that swore like a trooper I’m told. You wouldn’t have cared if they’d caught small-pox from her. And Faith made an exhibition of herself getting up in preaching and making that speech! And she rid a pig down the street—under your very eyes I understand. The way they act is past belief and you never lift a finger to stop them or try to teach them anything. And now when I offer one of them a good home and good prospects you refuse it and insult me. A pretty father you, to talk of loving and caring for your children!” “That will do, woman!” said Mr. Meredith. He stood up and looked at Mrs. Davis with eyes that made her quail. “That will do,” he repeated. “I desire to hear no more, Mrs. Davis. You have said too much. It may be that I have been remiss in some respects in my duty as a parent, but it is not for you to remind me of it in such terms as you have used. Let us say good afternoon.” Mrs. Davis did not say anything half so amiable as good afternoon, but she took her departure. As she swept past the minister a large, plump toad, which Carl had secreted under the lounge, hopped out almost under her feet. Mrs. Davis gave a shriek and in trying to avoid treading on the awful thing, lost her balance and her parasol. She did not exactly fall, but she staggered and reeled across the room in a very undignified fashion and brought up against the door with a thud that jarred her from head to foot. Mr. Meredith, who had not seen the toad, wondered if she had been attacked with some kind of apoplectic or paralytic seizure, and ran in alarm to her assistance. But Mrs. Davis, recovering her feet, waved him back furiously. “Don’t you dare to touch me,” she almost shouted. “This is some more of your children’s doings, I suppose. This is no fit place for a decent woman. Give me my umbrella and let me go. I’ll never darken the doors of your manse or your church again.” Mr. Meredith picked up the gorgeous parasol meekly enough and gave it to her. Mrs. Davis seized it and marched out. Jerry and Carl had given up banister sliding and were sitting on the edge of the veranda with Faith. Unfortunately, all three were singing at the tops of their healthy young voices “There’ll be a hot time in the old town to-night.” Mrs. Davis believed the song was meant for her and her only. She stopped and shook her parasol at them. “Your father is a fool,” she said, “and you are three young varmints that ought to be whipped within an inch of your lives.” “He isn’t,” cried Faith. “We’re not,” cried the boys. But Mrs. Davis was gone. “Goodness, isn’t she mad!” said Jerry. “And what is a ‘varmint’ anyhow?” John Meredith paced up and down the parlour for a few minutes; then he went back to his study and sat down. But he did not return to his German theology. He was too grievously disturbed for that. Mrs. Davis had wakened him up with a vengeance. Was he such a remiss, careless father as she had accused him of being? Had he so scandalously neglected the bodily and spiritual welfare of the four little motherless creatures dependent on him? Were his people talking of it as harshly as Mrs. Davis had declared? It must be so, since Mrs. Davis had come to ask for Una in the full and confident belief that he would hand the child over to her as unconcernedly and gladly as one might hand over a strayed, unwelcome kitten. And, if so, what then? John Meredith groaned and resumed his pacing up and down the dusty, disordered room. What could he do? He loved his children as deeply as any father could and he knew, past the power of Mrs. Davis or any of her ilk, to disturb his conviction, that they loved him devotedly. But was he fit to have charge of them? He knew—none better—his weaknesses and limitations. What was needed was a good woman’s presence and influence and common sense. But how could that be arranged? Even were he able to get such a housekeeper it would cut Aunt Martha to the quick. She believed she could still do all that was meet and necessary. He could not so hurt and insult the poor old woman who had been so kind to him and his. How devoted she had been to Cecilia! And Cecilia had asked him to be very considerate of Aunt Martha. To be sure, he suddenly remembered that Aunt Martha had once hinted that he ought to marry again. He felt she would not resent a wife as she would a housekeeper. But that was out of the question. He did not wish to marry—he did not and could not care for anyone. Then what could he do? It suddenly occurred to him that he would go over to Ingleside and talk over his difficulties with Mrs. Blythe. Mrs. Blythe was one of the few women he never felt shy or tongue-tied with. She was always so sympathetic and refreshing. It might be that she could suggest some solution of his problems. And even if she could not Mr. Meredith felt that he needed a little decent human companionship after his dose of Mrs. Davis—something to take the taste of her out of his soul. He dressed hurriedly and ate his supper less abstractedly than usual. It occurred to him that it was a poor meal. He looked at his children; they were rosy and healthy looking enough—except Una, and she had never been very strong even when her mother was alive. They were all laughing and talking—certainly they seemed happy. Carl was especially happy because he had two most beautiful spiders crawling around his supper plate. Their voices were pleasant, their manners did not seem bad, they were considerate of and gentle to one another. Yet Mrs. Davis had said their behaviour was the talk of the congregation. As Mr. Meredith went through his gate Dr. Blythe and Mrs. Blythe drove past on the road that led to Lowbridge. The minister’s face fell. Mrs. Blythe was going away—there was no use in going to Ingleside. And he craved a little companionship more than ever. As he gazed rather hopelessly over the landscape the sunset light struck on a window of the old West homestead on the hill. It flared out rosily like a beacon of good hope. He suddenly remembered Rosemary and Ellen West. He thought that he would relish some of Ellen’s pungent conversation. He thought it would be pleasant to see Rosemary’s slow, sweet smile and calm, heavenly blue eyes again. What did that old poem of Sir Philip Sidney’s say?—“continual comfort in a face”—that just suited her. And he needed comfort. Why not go and call? He remembered that Ellen had asked him to drop in sometimes and there was Rosemary’s book to take back—he ought to take it back before he forgot. He had an uneasy suspicion that there were a great many books in his library which he had borrowed at sundry times and in divers places and had forgotten to take back. It was surely his duty to guard against that in this case. He went back into his study, got the book, and plunged downward into Rainbow Valley. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. L. M. Montgomery (2004). Rainbow Valley. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5343/pg5343-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

MRS. ALEC DAVIS MAKES A CALL

The Story-book of Science by Jean-Henri Fabre, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . THE WILY DERVISH CHAPTER VI. THE WILY DERVISH “There are ant-hills everywhere, large or small,” observed Jules. “Even in the garden I could have counted a dozen. From some the ants are so numerous they blacken the road when they come out. It must take a great many plant-lice to nourish all that little colony.” Chess-board with pieces in position “Numerous though they be,” his uncle assured him, “they will never lack cows, as plant-lice are still more numerous. There are so many that they often seriously menace our harvests. The miserable louse declares war against us. To understand it, listen to this story: “There was once a king of India who was much bored. To entertain him, a dervish invented the game of chess. You do not know this game. Well, on a board something like a checkerboard two adversaries range, in battle array, one white, the other black, pieces of different values: pawns, knights, bishops, castles, queen and king. The action begins. The pawns, simple foot-soldiers, are destined as always to receive the first of the glory on the battlefield. The king looks on at their extermination, guarded by his grandeur far from the fray. Now the cavalry charge, slashing with their swords right and left; even the bishops fight with hot-headed enthusiasm, and the ambulating castles go here and there, protecting the flanks of the army. Victory is decided. Of the blacks, the queen is a prisoner; the king has lost his castles; one knight and one bishop do wonderful deeds to procure his flight. They succumb. The king is checkmated. The game is lost. “This clever game, image of war, pleased the bored king very much, and he asked the dervish what reward he desired for his invention. “‘Light of the faithful,’ answered the inventor, ‘a poor dervish is easily satisfied. You shall give me one grain of wheat for the first square of the chessboard, two for the second, four for the third, eight for the fourth, and you will double thus the number of grains, to the last square, which is the sixty-fourth. I shall be satisfied with that. My blue pigeons will have enough grain for some days.’ “‘This man is a fool,’ said the king to himself; ‘he might have had great riches and he asks me for a few handfuls of wheat.’ Then, turning to his minister:—‘Count out ten purses of a thousand sequins for this man, and have a sack of wheat given him. He will have a hundred times the amount of grain he asks of me.’ “‘Commander of the faithful,’ answered the dervish, ‘keep the purses of sequins, useless to my blue pigeons, and give me the wheat as I wish.’ “‘Very well. Instead of one sack, you shall have a hundred.’ “‘It is not enough, Sun of Justice.’ “‘You shall have a thousand.’ “‘Not enough, Terror of the unfaithful. The squares of my chessboard would not have their proper amount.’ “In the meantime the courtiers whispered among themselves, astonished at the singular pretensions of the dervish, who, in the contents of a thousand sacks, would not find his grain of wheat doubled sixty-four times. Out of patience, the king convoked the learned men to hold a meeting and calculate the grains of wheat demanded. The dervish smiled maliciously in his beard, and modestly moved aside while awaiting the end of the calculation. “And behold, under the pen of the calculators, the figure grew larger and larger. The work finished, the head one rose. “‘Sublime Commander,’ said he, ‘arithmetic has decided. To satisfy the dervish’s demand, there is not enough wheat in your granaries. There is not enough in the town, in the kingdom, or in the whole world. For the quantity of grain demanded, the whole earth, sea and continents together, would be covered with a continuous bed to the depth of a finger.’ “The king angrily bit his mustache and, unable to count out to him his grains of wheat, named the inventor of chess prime vizier. That is what the wily dervish wanted.” “Like the king, I should have fallen into the dervish’s snare,” said Jules. “I should have thought that doubling a grain sixty-four times would only give a few handfuls of wheat.” “Henceforth,” returned Uncle Paul, “you will know that a number, even very small, when multiplied a number of times by the same figure, is like a snow-ball which grows in rolling, and soon becomes an enormous ball which all our efforts cannot move.” “Your dervish was very crafty,” remarked Emile. “He modestly contented himself with one grain of wheat for his blue pigeons, on condition that they doubled the number on each square. Apparently, he asked next to nothing; in reality, he asked more than the king possessed. What is a dervish, Uncle?” “In the religions of the East they call by that name those who renounce the world to give themselves up to prayer and contemplation.” “You say the king made him prime vizier. Is that a high office?” “Prime vizier means prime minister. The dervish then became the greatest dignitary of the State, after the king.” “I am no longer surprised that he refused the ten purses of a thousand sequins. He was waiting for something better. The ten purses, however, would make a good sum?” “A sequin is a gold piece worth about twelve francs. At that rate, the king offered the dervish a sum of one hundred and twenty thousand francs, besides the sacks of wheat.” “And the dervish preferred the grain sixty-four times doubled.” “In comparison what was offered him was nothing.” “And the plant-lice?” asked Jules. “The story of the dervish is bringing us to that directly,” his uncle assured him. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jean-Henri Fabre (2018). The Story-book of Science. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/56795/pg56795-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

THE WILY DERVISH

Voyages in Search of the North-West Passage by Richard Hakluyt is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . THE THIRD VOYAGE NORTH-WESTWARD, MADE BY JOHN DAVIS THE THIRD VOYAGE NORTH-WESTWARD, MADE BY JOHN DAVIS, Gentleman, as chief captain and pilot general for the discovery of a passage to the Isles of the Molucca, or the coast of China, in the year 1587.  Written by John Janes, servant to the aforesaid Master William Sanderson. May.—The 19th of this present month, about midnight, we weighed our anchors, set sail and departed from Dartmouth with two barques and a clincher, the one named the Elizabeth, of Dartmouth, the other the Sunshine, of London, and the clincher called the Ellin, of London; thus, in God’s name, we set forwards with wind at north-east, a good fresh gale.  About three hours after our departure, the night being somewhat thick with darkness, we had lost the pinnace.  The captain, imagining that the men had run away with her, willed the master of the Sunshine to stand to seawards and see if we could descry them, we bearing in with the shore for Plymouth.  At length we descried her, bore with her, and demanded what the cause was; they answered that the tiller of their helm was burst, so shaping our course west-south-west, we went forward, hoping that a hard beginning would make a good ending; yet some of us were doubtful of it, failing in reckoning that she was a clincher; nevertheless, we put our trust in God. The 21st we met with the Red Lion of London, which came from the coast of Spain, which was afraid that we had been men-of-war; but we hailed them, and after a little conference we desired the master to carry our letters for London, directed to my uncle Sanderson, who promised us safe delivery.  And after we had heaved them a lead and a line, whereunto we had made fast our letters, before they could get them into the ship they fell into the sea, and so all our labour and theirs also was lost; notwithstanding, they promised to certify our departure at London, and so we departed, and the same day we had sight of Scilly.  The 22nd the wind was at north-east by east, with fair weather, and so the 23rd and 24th the like.  The 25th we laid our ships on the lee for the Sunshine, who was a-rummaging for a leak; they had 500 strokes at the pump in a watch, with the wind at north-west. The 26th and 27th we had fair weather, but this 27th the pinnace’s foremast was blown overboard.  The 28th the Elizabeth towed the pinnace, which was so much bragged of by the owner’s report before we came out of England, but at sea she was like a cart drawn with oxen.  Sometimes we towed her, because she could not sail for scant wind. The 31st day our captain asked if the pinnace were staunch.  Peerson answered that she was as sound and staunch as a cup.  This made us something glad when we saw she would brook the sea, and was not leaky. June.—The first six days we had fair weather; after that for five days we had fog and rain, the wind being south. The 12th we had clear weather.  The mariners in the Sunshine and the master could not agree; the mariners would go on their voyage a-fishing, because the year began to waste; the master would not depart till he had the company of the Elizabeth, whereupon the master told our captain that he was afraid his men would shape some contrary course while he was asleep, and so he should lose us.  At length, after much talk and many threatenings, they were content to bring us to the land which we looked for daily. The 13th we had fog and rain. The 14th day we discovered land at five of the clock in the morning, being very great and high mountains, the tops of the hills being covered with snow.  Here the wind was variable, sometimes north-east, east-north-east, and east by north; but we imagined ourselves to be 16 or 17 leagues off from the shore. The 15th we had reasonably clear weather. The 16th we came to an anchor about four or five of the clock in the afternoon.  The people came presently to us, after the old manner, with crying “Il y a oute,” and showed us seal-skins. The 17th we began to set up the pinnace that Peerson framed at Dartmouth, with the boards which he brought from London. The 18th, Peerson and the carpenters of the ships began to set on the planks. The 19th, as we went about an island, were found black pumice stones, and salt kerned on the rocks, very white and glistering.  This day, also, the master of the Sunshine took one of the people, a very strong, lusty young fellow. The 20th, about two of the clock in the morning, the savages came to the island where our pinnace was built ready to be launched, and tore the two upper strakes and carried them away, only for the love of the iron in the boards.  While they were about this practice, we manned the Elizabeth’s boat to go ashore to them.  Our men, being either afraid or amazed, were so long before they came to shore, that our captain willed them to stay, and made the gunner give fire to a saker, and laid the piece level with the boat, which the savages had turned on the one side because we could not hurt them with our arrows, and made the boat their bulwark against the arrows which we shot at them.  Our gunner, having made all things ready, gave fire to the piece, and fearing to hurt any of the people, and regarding the owner’s profit, thought belike he would save a saker’s shot, doubting we should have occasion to fight with men-of-war, and so shot off the saker without a bullet, we looking still when the savages that were hurt should run away without legs; at length we could perceive never a man hurt, but all having their legs, could carry away their bodies.  We had no sooner shot off the piece but the master of the Sunshine manned his boat, and came rowing towards the island, the very sight of whom made each of them take that he had gotten, and fly away as fast as they could to another island about two miles off, where they took the nails out of the timber, and left the wood on the isle.  When we came on shore, and saw how they had spoiled the boat, after much debating of the matter, we agreed that the Elizabeth should have her to fish withal; whereupon she was presently carried aboard and stowed.  Now after this trouble, being resolved to depart with the first wind, there fell out another matter worse than all the rest, and that was in this manner: John Churchyard, one whom our captain had appointed as pilot in the pinnace, came to our captain and Master Bruton, and told them that the good ship which we must all hazard our lives in had three hundred strokes at one time as she rode in the harbour.  This disquieted us all greatly, and many doubted to go in her.  At length our captain, by whom we were all to be governed, determined rather to end his life with credit than to return with infamy and disgrace; and so, being all agreed, we purposed to live and die together, and committed ourselves to the ship. Now the 21st, having brought all our things aboard, about eleven or twelve of the clock at night we set sail and departed from those isles, which lie in 64 degrees of latitude, our ships being now all at sea, and we shaping our course to go coasting the land to the northwards, upon the eastern shore, which we called the shore of our merchants, because there we met with people which traffic with us; but here we were not without doubt of our ship. The 22nd and 23rd we had close fog and rain. The 24th, being in 67 degrees and 40 minutes, we had great store of whales, and a kind of sea-birds which the mariners call cortinous.  This day, about six of the clock at night, we espied two of the country people at sea, thinking at the first they had been two great seals, until we saw their oars, glistering with the sun.  They came rowing towards us as fast as they could, and when they came within hearing they held up their oars and cried “Il y a oute,” making many signs, and at last they came to us, giving us birds for bracelets, and of them I had a dart with a bone in it, or a piece of unicorn’s horn, as I did judge.  This dart he made store of, but when he saw a knife he let it go, being more desirous of the knife than of his dart.  These people continued rowing after our ship the space of three hours. The 25th, in the morning, at seven of the clock, we descried thirty savages rowing after us, being by judgment ten leagues off from the shore.  They brought us salmon peels, birds, and caplin, and we gave them pins, needles, bracelets, nails, knives, bells, looking-glasses, and other small trifles; and for a knife, a nail, or a bracelet, which they call ponigmah, they would sell their boat, coats, or anything they had, although they were far from the shore.  We had but few skins of them, about twenty; but they made signs to us that if we would go to the shore, we should have more store of chicsanege.  They stayed with us till eleven of the clock, at which time we went to prayer, and they departed from us. The 26th was cloudy, the wind being at south. The 27th fair, with the same wind. The 28th and 29th were foggy, with clouds. The 30th day we took the height, and found ourselves in 72 degrees and 12 minutes of latitude, both at noon and at night, the sun being five degrees above the horizon.  At midnight the compass set to the variation of 28 degrees to the westward.  Now having coasted the land which we called London Coast from the 21st of this present till the 30th, the sea open all to the westwards and northwards, the land on starboard side east from us, the wind shifted to the north, whereupon we left that shore, naming the same Hope Sanderson, and shaped our course west, and ran forty leagues and better without the sight of any land. July.—The 2nd we fell in with a mighty bank of ice west from us, lying north and south, which bank we would gladly have doubled out to the northwards, but the wind would not suffer us, so that we were fain to coast it to the southwards, hoping to double it out that we might have run so far west till we had found land, or else to have been thoroughly resolved of our pretended purpose. The 3rd we fell in with the ice again, and putting off from it we sought to the northwards, but the wind crossed us. The 4th was foggy, so was the 5th; also with much wind at north. The 6th being very clear, we put our barque with oars through a gap in the ice, seeing the sea free on the west side, as we thought, which falling out otherwise, caused us to return after we had stayed there between the ice. The 7th and the 8th, about midnight, by God’s help we recovered the open sea, the weather being fair and calm; and so was the 9th. The 10th we coasted the ice. The 11th was foggy, but calm. The 12th we coasted again the ice, having the wind at west-north-west.  The 13th, bearing off from the ice, we determined to go with the shore, and come to an anchor, and to stay five or six days for the dissolving of the ice, hoping that the sea from continually beating it, and the sun with the extreme force of heat, which it had always shining upon it, would make a quick despatch, that we might have a further search upon the western shore.  Now when we were come to the eastern coast, the water something deep, and some of our company fearful withal, we durst not come to an anchor, but bore off into sea again.  The poor people, seeing us go away again, came rowing after us into the sea, the waves being somewhat lofty.  We trucked with them for a few skins and darts, and gave them beads, nails, needles, and cards, they pointing to the shore as though they would show us great friendship; but we, little regarding their courtesy, gave them the gentle farewell, and so departed. The 14th we had the wind at south.  The 15th there was some fault either in the barque or the set of some current, for we were driven six points out of our course.  The 16th we fell in with the bank of ice, west from us.  The 17th and 18th were foggy.  The 19th, at one o’clock afternoon, we had sight of the land which we called Mount Raleigh, and at twelve of the clock at night we were athwart the straits which we discovered the first year.  The 20th we traversed in the mouth of the strait, the wind being at west with fair and clear weather.  The 21st and 22nd we coasted the northern coast of the straits.  The 23rd, having sailed 60 leagues north-west into the straits at two o’clock afternoon, we anchored among many isles in the bottom of the gulf, naming the same the Earl of Cumberland’s Isles, where, riding at anchor, a whale passed by our ship and went west in among the isles.  Here the compass set at 30 degrees westward variation.  The 24th we departed, shaping our course south-east to recover the sea.  The 25th we were becalmed in the bottom of the gulf, the air being extremely hot.  Master Bruton and some of the mariners went on shore to course dogs, where they found many graves, and trains spilt on the ground, the dogs being so fat that they were scant able to run. The 26th we had a pretty storm, the wind being at south-east.  The 27th and 28th were fair.  The 29th we were clear out of the straits, having coasted the south shore, and this day at noon we were in 64 degrees of latitude.  The 30th in the afternoon we coasted a bank of ice which lay on the shore, and passed by a great bank or inlet which lay between 63 and 62 degrees of latitude, which we called Lumley’s Inlet.  We had oftentimes, as we sailed along the coast, great roots, the water as it were whirling and overfalling, as if it were the fall of some great water through a bridge.  The 31st as we sailed by a headland, which we named Warwick’s Forehand, we fell into one of those overfalls with a fresh gale of wind, and bearing all our sails, we looking upon an island of ice between us and the shore, had thought that our barque did make no way, which caused us to take marks on the shore.  At length we perceived ourselves to go very fast, and the island of ice which we saw before was carried very forcibly with the set of the current faster than our ship went.  This day and night we passed by a very great gulf, the water whirling and roaring as it were the meeting of tides. August.—The 1st, having coasted a bank of ice which was driven out at the mouth of this gulf, we fell in with the southernmost cape of the gulf, which we named Chidlie’s Cape, which lay in 6 degrees and 10 minutes of latitude.  The 2nd and 3rd were calm and foggy, so were the 4th, 5th, and 6th.  The 7th was fair and calm, so was the 8th, with a little gale in the morning.  The 9th was fair, and we had a little gale at night.  The 10th we had a frisking gale at west-north-west; the 11th fair.  The 12th we saw five deer on the top of an island, called by us Darcie’s Island.  And we hoisted out our boat, and went ashore to them, thinking to have killed some of them.  But when we came on shore and had coursed them twice about the island they took the sea, and swain towards islands distant from that three leagues.  When we perceived that they had taken the sea, we gave them over, because our boat was so small that it could not carry us and row after them, they swam so fast; but one of them was as big as a good pretty cow, and very fat; their feet as big as ox-feet.  Here upon this island I killed with my piece a grey hare. The 13th in the morning we saw three or four white bears, but durst not go on shore unto them for lack of a good boat.  This day we struck a rock seeking for a harbour, and received a leak, and this day we were in 54 degrees of latitude.  The 14th we stopped our leak in a storm not very outrageous at noon. The 15th, being almost in 51 degrees of latitude, and not finding our ships, nor (according to their promise) being any mark, token, or beacon, which we willed to set up, and they protested to do so upon every headland, sea, island, or cape, within 20 leagues every way off from their fishing place, which our captain appointed to be between 54 and 55 degrees—this 15th, I say, we shaped our course homeward for England, having in our ship but little wood, and half a hogshead of fresh water.  Our men were very willing to depart, and no man more forward than Peerson, for he feared to be put out of his office of stewardship; he was so insatiate that the allowance of two men was scant sufficient to fill his greedy appetite; but because every man was so willing to depart, and considering our want, I doubted the matter very much, fearing that the seething of our men’s victuals in salt water would breed diseases, and being but few (yet too many for the room, if any should be sick), and likely that all the rest might be infected therewith, we consented to return for our own country, and so we had the 16th there with the wind at south-west. The 17th we met a ship at sea, and as far as we could judge it was a Biscayan; we thought she went a-fishing for whales, for in 52 degrees or thereabout we saw very many. The 18th was fair with a good gale at west. The 19th fair also, but with much wind at west and by south. And thus, after much variable weather and change of winds, we arrived the 15th of September in Dartmouth, Anno 1587, giving thanks to God for our safe arrival. * * * * * A letter of the said Master John Davis, written to Master Sanderson of London, concerning his fore-written voyage. Good Master Sanderson,—With God’s great mercy I have made my safe return in health with all my company, and have sailed 60 leagues farther than my determination at my departure.  I have been in 73 degrees, finding the sea all open, and 40 leagues between laud and land; the passage is most certain, the execution most easy, as at my coming you shall fully know.  Yesterday, the 15th of September, I landed all weary, therefore I pray you pardon my shortness. Sandridge, this 16th of September, Anno 1587. Yours equal as mine own, which by trial you shall best know, John Davis. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Richard Hakluyt (2002). Voyages in Search of the North-West Passage. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/3482/pg3482-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html .

THE THIRD VOYAGE NORTH-WESTWARD, MADE BY JOHN DAVIS

THE SECOND VOYAGE ATTEMPTED BY MASTER JOHN DAVIS

THE FIRST VOYAGE OF MASTER JOHN DAVIS

This story is a part of Hacker Noon's . The series is intended for tech professionals contributing the most insightful Hacker Noon stories to share more about their writing habits, ideas, and professional background (and maybe a hobby or two). Meet the Writer series of interviews If you too would like to start contributing to Hacker Noon, . you can do so here So let’s start! Tell us a bit about yourself. For example, name, profession, and personal interests. My name is Davis David, a Data Scientist, Software Developer and Content Creator from Tanzania. I love coding, writing and engage with tech communities around the world. Interesting! What was your latest Hackernoon Top story about? My latest HackerNoon top story is the . Swahili (also known as Kiswahili) is one of the most spoken languages in Africa and we all know that news in local languages plays an important cultural role in many African countries. development of the Swahili news dataset for topic classification tasks in machine learning So the main purpose of this article was to share some important steps I took while creating the dataset and I hope it will help someone else who is interested in developing NLP datasets for different machine learning tasks. Do you usually write on similar topics? If not, what do you usually write about? Yes, I write on the same topics most of the time, I tend to focus on machine learning, data science, open-source tools, datasets creations, and python in generals. Sometimes I write about different machine learning hackathons I have hosted or tech conferences I have attended. Great! What is your usual writing routine like (if you have one?) My writing routine is very simple, I start by finding good article ideas to write. I can find ideas from other articles I'm reading, online courses, video tutorials and dev news (Twitter and newsletters). Then I collect some ideas I want to write and d the following steps:- Find a good title for my article with a good keyword Find a good image that will represent the idea of my article Prepare the source code that will be part of the article Write the main body (include attach source code snippets) Write the introduction and conclusion Proofread and solve some errors (I use Grammarly tool) Publish the article. These steps can take almost 5 days a week. Being a writer in tech can be a challenge. It’s not often our main role, but an addition to another one. What is the biggest challenge you have when it comes to writing? When it's come to writing my biggest challenge is how to explain a complex technical concept into a simple language that everyone can understand. Since English is not my first language, this makes it a little bit harder for me. So, I try to use different examples to explain the technical concept. By doing this way, readers can understand what I'm trying to deliver in the article. What is the next thing you hope to achieve in your career? I'm planning to continually improve my software development and machine learning skills, especially in Natural Language Processing. Since my journey in this field started in the tech community, I will continue to help others who want to pursue their career in machine learning by developing great technical content. My next big thing is to start creating e-books on Machine Learning and Data Science. Wow, that’s admirable. Do you have a non-tech-related hobby? If yes, what is it? Yes, I have a few non-tech-related hobbies, I love to watch movies and football games, reading books in different areas.  I also love walking in the evening while listening to some good music. My new hobby is to start traveling. What can the Hacker Noon community expect to read from you next? Since most of my readers in Hackernoon like my in-depth article like , I'm planning to write more in-depth articles in machine learning and data science. my pycaret article Thanks for taking time to join our “Meet the writer” series. It was a pleasure. Do you have any closing words? I'm happy to be part of the Hackernoon community, especially on the blogging fellowship program. My writing is improving every day, thanks to wonderful Editors at Hackernoon who make sure that I post content with good quality. I will continue sharing my knowledge and experience to help others improve their skills in Data Science, Machine learning and Python.

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