Moby Dick; Or, The Whale

by Herman Melville

  CHAPTER 16

  The Ship

  In bed we concocted our plans for the morrow. But to my surpriseand no small concern, Queequeg now gave me to understand, that he hadbeen diligently consulting Yojo--the name of his black little god--and Yojo had told him two or three times over, and stronglyinsisted upon it everyway, that instead of our going together amongthe whaling-fleet in harbor, and in concert selecting our craft;instead of this, I say, Yojo earnestly enjoined that the selectionof the ship should rest wholly with me, inasmuch as Yojo purposedbefriending us; and, in order to do so, had already pitched upona vessel, which, if left to myself, I, Ishmael, should infalliblylight upon, for all the world as though it had turned out by chance;and in that vessel I must immediately ship myself, for the presentirrespective of Queequeg.

  I have forgotten to mention that, in many things, Queequeg placedgreat confidence in the excellence of Yojo's judgment and surprisingforecast of things; and cherished Yojo with considerable esteem,as a rather good sort of god, who perhaps meant well enough uponthe whole, but in all cases did not succeed in his benevolent designs.

  Now, this plan of Queequeg's or rather Yojo's, touchingthe selection of our craft; I did not like that plan at all.I had not a little relied on Queequeg's sagacity to point outthe whaler best fitted to carry us and our fortunes securely.But as all my remonstrances produced no effect upon Queequeg, I wasobliged to acquiesce; and accordingly prepared to set about thisbusiness with a determined rushing sort of energy and vigor,that should quickly settle that trifling little affair.Next morning early, leaving Queequeg shut up with Yojoin our little bedroom--for it seemed that it was some sortof Lent or Ramadan, or day of fasting, humiliation, and prayerwith Queequeg and Yojo that day; how it was I never couldfind out, for, though I applied myself to it several times,I never could master his liturgies and XXXIX Articles--leaving Queequeg, then, fasting on his tomahawk pipe,and Yojo warming himself at his sacrificial fire of shavings,I sallied out among the shipping. After much prolonged sauntering,and many random inquiries, I learnt that there were three shipsup for three-years' voyages--The Devil-Dam the Tit-bit,and the Pequod. Devil-dam, I do not know the origin of;Tit-bit is obvious; Pequod you will no doubt remember,was the name of a celebrated tribe of Massachusetts Indians;now extinct as the ancient Medes. I peered and pryed aboutthe Devil-Dam; from her, hopped over to the Tit-bit; and finally,going on board the Pequod, looked around her for a moment,and then decided that this was the very ship for us.

  You may have seen many a quaint craft in your day, for aught I know;--square-toed luggers; mountainous Japanese junks; butter-box galliots,and what not; but take my word for it, you never saw such a rare oldcraft as this same rare old Pequod. She was a ship of the old school,rather small if anything; with an old-fashioned claw-footed lookabout her. Long seasoned and weather-stained in the typhoons and calmsof all four oceans, her old hull's complexion was darkened like a Frenchgrenadier's, who has alike fought in Egypt and Siberia. Her venerablebows looked bearded. Her masts--cut somewhere on the coast of Japan,where her original ones were lost overboard in a gale--her masts stoodstiffly up like the spines of the three old kings of Cologne. Her ancientdecks were worn and wrinkled, like the pilgrim-worshipped flag-stonein Canterbury Cathedral where Beckett bled. But to all these herold antiquities, were added new and marvellous features, pertaining tothe wild business that for more than half a century she had followed.Old Captain Peleg, many years her chief-mate, before he commandedanother vessel of his own, and now a retired seaman, and one of theprincipal owners of the Pequod,--this old Peleg, during the term of hischief-mateship, had built upon her original grotesqueness, and inlaid it,all over, with a quaintness both of material and device, unmatched byanything except it be Thorkill-Hake's carved buckler or bedstead.She was apparelled like any barbaric Ethiopian emperor, his neckheavy with pendants of polished ivory. She was a thing of trophies.A cannibal of a craft, tricking herself forth in the chased bonesof her enemies. All round, her unpanelled, open bulwarks were garnishedlike one continuous jaw, with the long sharp teeth of the sperm whale,inserted there for pins, to fasten her old hempen thews and tendons to.Those thews ran not through base blocks of land wood, but deftly travelledover sheaves of sea-ivory. Scorning a turnstile wheel at her reverendhelm, she sported there a tiller; and that tiller was in one mass,curiously carved from the long narrow lower jaw of her hereditary foe.The helmsman who steered by that tiller in a tempest, felt likethe Tartar, when he holds back his fiery steed by clutching its jaw.A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy! All noble things aretouched with that.

  Now when I looked about the quarter-deck, for some one having authority,in order to propose myself as a candidate for the voyage, at first Isaw nobody; but I could not well overlook a strange sort of tent,or rather wigwam, pitched a little behind the main-mast. It seemedonly a temporary erection used in port. It was of a conical shape,some ten feet high; consisting of the long, huge slabs of limberblack bone taken from the middle and highest part of the jaws ofthe right-whale. Planted with their broad ends on the deck, a circleof these slabs laced together, mutually sloped towards each other,and at the apex united in a tufted point, where the loose hairy fibreswaved to and fro like a top-knot on some old Pottowotamie Sachem's head.A triangular opening faced towards the bows of the ship, so thatthe insider commanded a complete view forward.

  And half concealed in this queer tenement, I at length foundone who by his aspect seemed to have authority; and who,it being noon, and the ship's work suspended, was now enjoyingrespite from the burden of command. He was seated on anold-fashioned oaken chair, wriggling all over with curious carving;and the bottom of which was formed of a stout interlacingof the same elastic stuff of which the wigwam was constructed.

  There was nothing so very particular, perhaps, about the appearanceof the elderly man I saw; he was brown and brawny, like most old seamen,and heavily rolled up in blue pilot-cloth, cut in the Quaker style;only there was a fine and almost microscopic net-work of the minutestwrinkles interlacing round his eyes, which must have arisen from hiscontinual sailings in many hard gales, and always looking to windward;--for this causes the muscles about the eyes to become pursed together.Such eye-wrinkles are very effectual in a scowl.

  "Is this the Captain of the Pequod?" said I, advancing to the doorof the tent.

  "Supposing it be the Captain of the Pequod, what dost thou wantof him?" he demanded.

  "I was thinking of shipping."

  "Thou wast, wast thou? I see thou art no Nantucketer--ever been in a stove boat?"

  "No, Sir, I never have."

  "Dost know nothing at all about whaling, I dare say--eh?

  "Nothing, Sir; but I have no doubt I shall soon learn.I've been several voyages in the merchant service, and I think that-"

  "Merchant service be damned. Talk not that lingo to me.Dost see that leg?--I'll take that leg away from thy stern,if ever thou talkest of the merchant service to me again.Marchant service indeed! I suppose now ye feel considerableproud of having served in those marchant ships. But flukes! man,what makes thee want to go a whaling, eh?--it looks a littlesuspicious, don't it, eh?--Hast not been a pirate, hast thou?--Didst not rob thy last Captain, didst thou?--Dost not thinkof murdering the officers when thou gettest to sea?"

  I protested my innocence of these things. I saw that underthe mask of these half humorous innuendoes, this old seaman,as an insulated Quakerish Nantucketer, was full of hisinsular prejudices, and rather distrustful of all aliens,unless they hailed from Cape Cod or the Vineyard.

  "But what takes thee a-whaling? I want to know that before Ithink of shipping ye."

  "Well, sir, I want to see what whaling is. I want to see the world."

  "Want to see what whaling is, eh? Have ye clapped eye on Captain Ahab?"

  "Who is Captain Ahab, sir?"

  "Aye, aye, I thought so. Captain Ahab is the Captain of this ship."

  "I am mistaken then. I thought I was speaking to the Captain himsel
f."

  "Thou art speaking to Captain Peleg--that's who ye are speaking to,young man. It belongs to me and Captain Bildad to see the Pequod fittedout for the voyage, and supplied with all her needs, including crew.We are part owners and agents. But as I was going to say, if thou wantestto know what whaling is, as thou tellest ye do, I can put ye in a wayof finding it out before ye bind yourself to it, past backing out.Clap eye on Captain Ahab, young man, and thou wilt find that he hasonly one leg."

  "What do you mean, sir? Was the other one lost by a whale?"

  "Lost by a whale! Young man, come nearer to me: it was devoured,chewed up, crunched by the monstrousest parmacetty that ever chippeda boat!--ah, ah!"

  I was a little alarmed by his energy, perhaps also a little touchedat the hearty grief in his concluding exclamation, but said as calmlyas I could, "What you say is no doubt true enough, sir; but how couldI know there was any peculiar ferocity in that particular whale,though indeed I might have inferred as much from the simple factof the accident."

  "Look ye now, young man, thy lungs are a sort of soft, d'ye see;thou dost not talk shark a bit. Sure, ye've been to sea before now;sure of that?"

  "Sir," said I, "I thought I told you that I had been four voyagesin the merchant-"

  "Hard down out of that! Mind what I said about the marchant service--don't aggravate me--I won't have it. But let us understand each other.I have given thee a hint about what whaling is! do ye yet feelinclined for it?"

  "I do, sir."

  "Very good. Now, art thou the man to pitch a harpoon down a livewhale's throat, and then jump after it? Answer, quick!"

  "I am, sir, if it should be positively indispensable to do so;not to be got rid of, that is; which I don't take to be the fact."

  "Good again. Now then, thou not only wantest to go a-whaling,to find out by experience what whaling is, but ye also wantto go in order to see the world? Was not that what ye said?I thought so. Well then, just step forward there, and takea peep over the weather bow, and then back to me and tell mewhat ye see there."

  For a moment I stood a little puzzled by this curious request,not knowing exactly how to take it, whether humorously or in earnest.But concentrating all his crow's feet into one scowl, Captain Pelegstarted me on the errand.

  Going forward and glancing over the weather bow, I perceivedthat the ship swinging to her anchor with the flood-tide, wasnow obliquely pointing towards the open ocean. The prospectwas unlimited, but exceedingly monotonous and forbidding;not the slightest variety that I could see.

  "Well, what's the report?" said Peleg when I came back;"what did ye see?"

  "Not much," I replied--"nothing but water; considerable horizon though,and there's a squall coming up, I think."

  "Well, what dost thou think then of seeing the world?Do ye wish to go round Cape Horn to see any more of it, eh?Can't ye see the world where you stand?"

  I was a little staggered, but go a-whaling I must, and I would;and the Pequod was as good a ship as any--I thought the best--and all this I now repeated to Peleg. Seeing me so determined,he expressed his willingness to ship me.

  "And thou mayest as well sign the papers right off,"he added--"come along with ye." And so saying, he led the waybelow deck into the cabin.

  Seated on the transom was what seemed to me a most uncommon andsurprising figure. It turned out to be Captain Bildad who alongwith Captain Peleg was one of the largest owners of the vessel;the other shares, as is sometimes the case in these ports,being held by a crowd of old annuitants; widows, fatherless children,and chancery wards; each owning about the value of a timber head,or a foot of plank, or a nail or two in the ship.People in Nantucket invest their money in whaling vessels,the same way that you do yours in approved state stocks bringingin good interest.

  Now, Bildad, like Peleg, and indeed many other Nantucketers,was a Quaker, the island having been originally settled by that sect;and to this day its inhabitants in general retain in an uncommonmeasure the peculiarities of the Quaker, only variously andanomalously modified by things altogether alien and heterogeneous.For some of these same Quakers are the most sanguinaryof all sailors and whale-hunters. They are fighting Quakers;they are Quakers with a vengeance.

  So that there are instances among them of men, who, named withScripture names--a singularly common fashion on the island--and in childhood naturally imbibing the stately dramatic theeand thou of the Quaker idiom; still, from the audacious,daring, and boundless adventure of their subsequent lives,strangely blend with these unoutgrown peculiarities, a thousandbold dashes of character, not unworthy a Scandinavian sea-king,or a poetical Pagan Roman. And when these things unitein a man of greatly superior natural force, with a globularbrain and a ponderous heart; who has also by the stillnessand seclusion of many long night-watches in the remotest waters,and beneath constellations never seen here at the north,been led to think untraditionally and independently; receiving allnature's sweet or savage impressions fresh from her own virginvoluntary and confiding breast, and thereby chiefly, but with somehelp from accidental advantages, to learn a bold and nervouslofty language--that man makes one in a whole nation's census--a mighty pageant creature, formed for noble tragedies.Nor will it at all detract from him, dramatically regarded,if either by birth or other circumstances, he have what seemsa half wilful overruling morbidness at the bottom of his nature.For all men tragically great are made so through a certain morbidness.Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness isbut disease. But, as yet we have not to do with such an one,but with quite another; and still a man, who, if indeed peculiar,it only results again from another phase of the Quaker,modified by individual circumstances.

  Like Captain Peleg, Captain Bildad was a well-to-do, retired whaleman.But unlike Captain Peleg--who cared not a rush for what are calledserious things, and indeed deemed those self-same serious thingsthe veriest of all trifles--Captain Bildad had not only been originallyeducated according to the strictest sect of Nantucket Quakerism,but all his subsequent ocean life, and the sight of many unclad,lovely island creatures, round the Horn--all that had not moved thisnative born Quaker one single jot, had not so much as altered one angleof his vest. Still, for all this immutableness, was there some lackof common consistency about worthy Captain Bildad. Though refusing,from conscientious scruples, to bear arms against land invaders,yet himself had illimitably invaded the Atlantic and Pacific;and though a sworn foe to human bloodshed, yet had he in hisstraight-bodied coat, spilled tuns upon tuns of leviathan gore.How now in the contemplative evening of his days, the pious Bildadreconciled these things in the reminiscence, I do not know;but it did not seem to concern him much, and very probably he hadlong since come to the sage and sensible conclusion that a man'sreligion is one thing, and this practical world quite another.This world pays dividends. Rising from a little cabin boyin short clothes of the drabbest drab, to a harpooneer in a broadshad-bellied waistcoat; from that becoming boat-header, chief mate,and captain, and finally a shipowner; Bildad, as I hinted before,had concluded his adventurous career by wholly retiring from activelife at the goodly age of sixty, and dedicating his remaining daysto the quiet receiving of his well-earned income.

  Now, Bildad, I am sorry to say, had the reputation of beingan incorrigible old hunks, and in his sea-going days, a bitter,hard task-master. They told me in Nantucket, though itcertainly seems a curious story, that when he sailed the oldCategut whaleman, his crew, upon arriving home, were mostly allcarried ashore to the hospital, sore exhausted and worn out.For a pious man, especially for a Quaker, he was certainlyrather hard-hearted, to say the least. He never used to swear,though, at his men, they said; but somehow he got an inordinatequantity of cruel, unmitigated hard work out of them.When Bildad was a chief-mate, to have his drab-colored eyeintently looking at you, made you feel completely nervous,till you could clutch something--a hammer or a marling-spike,and go to work like mad, at something or other, never mind what.Indolence and idleness perished from before him. His ownperson was the exact
embodiment of his utilitarian character.On his long, gaunt body, he carried no spare flesh,no superfluous beard, his chin having a soft, economical nap to it,like the worn nap of his broad-brimmed hat.

  Such, then, was the person that I saw seated on the transomwhen I followed Captain Peleg down into the cabin.The space between the decks was small; and there, bolt upright,sat old Bildad, who always sat so, and never leaned, and thisto save his coat-tails. His broad-brim was placed beside him;his legs were stiffly crossed; his drab vesture was buttonedup to his chin; and spectacles on nose, he seemed absorbedin reading from a ponderous volume.

  "Bildad," cried Captain Peleg, "at it again, Bildad, eh? Ye havebeen studying those Scriptures, now, for the last thirty years,to my certain knowledge. How far ye got, Bildad?"

  As if long habituated to such profane talk from his old shipmate,Bildad, without noticing his present irreverence, quietly looked up,and seeing me, glanced again inquiringly towards Peleg.

  "He says he's our man, Bildad," said Peleg, "he wants to ship."

  "Dost thee?" said Bildad, in a hollow tone, and turning round to me.

  "I dost," said I unconsciously, he was so intense a Quaker.

  "What do ye think of him, Bildad?" said Peleg.

  "He'll do," said Bildad, eyeing me, and then went on spellingaway at his book in a mumbling tone quite audible.

  I thought him the queerest old Quaker I ever saw, especially as Peleg,his friend and old shipmate, seemed such a blusterer.But I said nothing, only looking round me sharply.Peleg now threw open a chest, and drawing forth the ship's articles,placed pen and ink before him, and seated himself at a little table.I began to think it was high time to settle with myselfat what terms I would be willing to engage for the voyage.I was already aware that in the whaling business theypaid no wages; but all hands, including the captain,received certain shares of the profits called lays, and thatthese lays were proportioned to the degree of importancepertaining to the respective duties of the ship's company.I was also aware that being a green hand at whaling, my ownlay would not be very large; but considering that I was usedto the sea, could steer a ship, splice a rope, and all that,I made no doubt that from all I had heard I should be offeredat least the 275th lay--that is, the 275th part of the clear netproceeds of the voyage, whatever that might eventually amount to.And though the 275th lay was what they call a rather long lay,yet it was better than nothing; and if we had a lucky voyage,might pretty nearly pay for the clothing I would wear out on it,not to speak of my three years' beef and board, for which Iwould not have to pay one stiver.

  It might be thought that this was a poor way to accumulatea princely fortune--and so it was, a very poor way indeed.But I am one of those that never take on about princely fortunes,and am quite content if the world is ready to board and lodge me, while Iam putting up at this grim sign of the Thunder Cloud. Upon the whole,I thought that the 275th lay would be about the fair thing,but would not have been surprised had I been offered the 200th,considering I was of a broad-shouldered make.

  But one thing, nevertheless, that made me a little distrustful aboutreceiving a generous share of the profits was this: Ashore, I had heardsomething of both Captain Peleg and his unaccountable old crony Bildad;how that they being the principal proprietors of the Pequod,therefore the other and more inconsiderable and scattered owners,left nearly the whole management of the ship's affairs to these two.And I did not know but what the stingy old Bildad might have a mightydeal to say about shipping hands, especially as I now found him on boardthe Pequod, quite at home there in the cabin, and reading his Bibleas if at his own fireside. Now while Peleg was vainly trying to menda pen with his jack-knife, old Bildad, to my no small surprise,considering that he was such an interested party in these proceedings;Bildad never heeded us, but went on mumbling to himself out of his book,"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth-"

  "Well, Captain Bildad," interrupted Peleg, "what d'ye say,what lay shall we give this young man?"

  "Thou knowest best," was the sepulchral reply, "the seven hundredand seventy-seventh wouldn't be too much, would it?--'where mothand rust do corrupt, but lay-'"

  Lay, indeed, thought I, and such a lay! the seven hundred andseventy-seventh! Well, old Bildad, you are determined that I, for one,shall not lay up many lays here below, where moth and rust do corrupt.It was an exceedingly long lay that, indeed; and though from the magnitudeof the figure it might at first deceive a landsman, yet the slightestconsideration will show that though seven hundred and seventy-sevenis a pretty large number, yet, when you come to make a teenth of it,you will then see, I say, that the seven hundred and seventy-seventh partof a farthing is a good deal less than seven hundred and seventy-sevengold doubloons; and so I thought at the time.

  "Why, blast your eyes, Bildad," cried Peleg, Thou dost not wantto swindle this young man! he must have more than that."

  "Seven hundred and seventy-seventh," again said Bildad, without liftinghis eyes; and then went on mumbling--"for where your treasure is,there will your heart be also."

  "I am going to put him down for the three hundredth," said Peleg,"do ye hear that, Bildad! The three hundredth lay, I say."

  Bildad laid down his book, and turning solemnly towardshim said, "Captain Peleg, thou hast a generous heart;but thou must consider the duty thou owest to the otherowners of this ship--widows and orphans, many of them--and that if we too abundantly reward the labors of this young man,we may be taking the bread from those widows and those orphans.The seven hundred and seventy-seventh lay, Captain Peleg."

  "Thou Bildad!" roared Peleg, starting up and clattering about the cabin."Blast ye, Captain Bildad, if I had followed thy advice in these matters,I would afore now had a conscience to lug about that would be heavyenough to founder the largest ship that ever sailed round Cape Horn."

  "Captain Peleg," said Bildad steadily, "thy conscience may bedrawing ten inches of water, or ten fathoms, I can't tell;but as thou art still an impenitent man, Captain Peleg, I greatlyfear lest thy conscience be but a leaky one; and will in the endsink thee foundering down to the fiery pit, Captain Peleg."

  "Fiery pit! fiery pit! ye insult me, man; past all natural bearing,ye insult me. It's an all-fired outrage to tell any human creaturethat he's bound to hell. Flukes and flames! Bildad, say that againto me, and start my soulbolts, but I'll--I'll--yes, I'll swallow a livegoat with all his hair and horns on. Out of the cabin, ye canting,drab-colored son of a wooden gun--a straight wake with ye!"

  As he thundered out this he made a rush at Bildad, but with amarvellous oblique, sliding celerity, Bildad for that time eluded him.

  Alarmed at this terrible outburst between the two principaland responsible owners of the ship, and feeling half a mindto give up all idea of sailing in a vessel so questionablyowned and temporarily commanded, I stepped aside from the doorto give egress to Bildad, who, I made no doubt, was all eagernessto vanish from before the awakened wrath of Peleg. But tomy astonishment, he sat down again on the transom very quietly,and seemed to have not the slightest intention of withdrawing.He seemed quite used to impenitent Peleg and his ways.As for Peleg, after letting off his rage as he had, there seemedno more left in him, and he, too, sat down like a lamb,though he twitched a little as if still nervously agitated."Whew!" he whistled at last--"the squall's gone off to leeward,I think. Bildad, thou used to be good at sharpening a lance,mend that pen, will ye. My jack-knife here needs the grindstone.That's he; thank ye, Bildad. Now then, my young man,Ishmael's thy name, didn't ye say? Well then, down yego here, Ishmael, for the three hundredth lay."

  "Captain Peleg," said I, "I have a friend with me who wants to ship too--shall I bring him down to-morrow?"

  "To be sure," said Peleg. "Fetch him along, and we'll look at him."

  "What lay does he want?" groaned Bildad, glancing up from the Bookin which he had again been burying himself.

  "Oh! never thee mind about that, Bildad," said Peleg. "Has he everwhaled it any?" turning to me.


  "Killed more whales than I can count, Captain Peleg."

  "Well, bring him along then."

  And, after signing the papers, off I went; nothing doubting but that Ihad done a good morning's work, and that the Pequod was the identicalship that Yojo had provided to carry Queequeg and me round the Cape.

  But I had not proceeded far, when I began to bethink methat the Captain with whom I was to sail yet remained unseenby me; though, indeed, in many cases, a whale-ship will becompletely fitted out, and receive all her crew on board,ere the captain makes himself visible by arriving to take command;for sometimes these voyages are so prolonged, and the shoreintervals at home so exceedingly brief, that if the captainhave a family, or any absorbing concernment of that sort,he does not trouble himself much about his ship in port,but leaves her to the owners till all is ready for sea.However, it is always as well to have a look at himbefore irrevocably committing yourself into his hands.Turning back I accosted Captain Peleg, inquiring where Captain Ahabwas to be found.

  "And what dost thou want of Captain Ahab? It's all right enough;thou art shipped."

  "Yes, but I should like to see him."

  "But I don't think thou wilt be able to at present. I don't knowexactly what's the matter with him; but he keeps close inside the house;a sort of sick, and yet he don't look so. In fact, he ain't sick;but no, he isn't well either. Any how, young man, he won't always see me,so I don't suppose he will thee. He's a queer man, Captain Ahab--so some think--but a good one. Oh, thou'lt like him well enough;no fear, no fear. He's a grand, ungodly, god-like man, Captain Ahab;doesn't speak much; but, when he does speak, then you may well listen.Mark ye, be forewarned; Ahab's above the common; Ahab's been in colleges,as well as 'mong the cannibals; been used to deeper wonders thanthe waves; fixed his fiery lance in mightier, stranger foes than whales.His lance! aye, the keenest and the surest that out of all our isle!Oh! he ain't Captain Bildad; no, and he ain't Captain Peleg;he's Ahab, boy; and Ahab of old, thou knowest, was a crowned king!"

  "And a very vile one. When that wicked king was slain, the dogs,did they not lick his blood?"

  "Come hither to me--hither, hither," said Peleg,with a significance in his eye that almost startled me."Look ye, lad; never say that on board the Pequod. Never sayit anywhere. Captain Ahab did not name himself .'Twas a foolish,ignorant whim of his crazy, widowed mother, who died whenhe was only a twelvemonth old. And yet the old squaw Tistig,at Gayhead, said that the name would somehow prove prophetic.And, perhaps, other fools like her may tell thee the same.I wish to warn thee. It's a lie. I know Captain Ahab well;I've sailed with him as mate years ago; I know what he is--a good man--not a pious, good man, like Bildad, but a swearinggood man--something like me--only there's a good deal moreof him. Aye, aye, I know that he was never very jolly;and I know that on the passage home he was a little out of hismind for a spell; but it was the sharp shooting pains in hisbleeding stump that brought that about, as any one might see.I know, too, that ever since he lost his leg last voyageby that accursed whale, he's been a kind of moody--desperate moody, and savage sometimes; but that will all pass off.And once for all, let me tell thee and assure thee, young man,it's better to sail with a moody good captain than a laughingbad one. So good-bye to thee--and wrong not Captain Ahab,because he happens to have a wicked name. Besides, my boy,he has a wife--not three voyages wedded--a sweet, resigned girl.Think of that; by that sweet girl that old man had a child:hold ye then there can be any utter, hopeless harm in Ahab? No, no,my lad; stricken, blasted, if he be, Ahab has his humanities!"

  As I walked away, I was full of thoughtfulness; what hadbeen incidentally revealed to me of Captain Ahab, filled mewith a certain wild vagueness of painfulness concerning him.And somehow, at the time, I felt a sympathy and a sorrow for him,but for I don't know what, unless it was the cruel loss of his leg.And yet I also felt a strange awe of him; but that sort of awe,which I cannot at all describe, was not exactly awe; I do notknow what it was. But I felt it; and it did not disinclineme towards him; though I felt impatience at what seemed likemystery in him, so imperfectly as he was known to me then.However, my thoughts were at length carried in other directions,so that for the present dark Ahab slipped my mind.