Leg and Arm

“Ship, ahoy! Hast seen the White Whale?”

“Ship, ahoy! Have you seen the White Whale?”

So cried Ahab, once more hailing a ship showing English colours, bearing down under the stern. Trumpet to mouth, the old man was standing in his hoisted quarter-boat, his ivory leg plainly revealed to the stranger captain, who was carelessly reclining in his own boat’s bow. He was a darkly-tanned, burly, good-natured, fine-looking man, of sixty or thereabouts, dressed in a spacious roundabout, that hung round him in festoons of blue pilot-cloth; and one empty arm of this jacket streamed behind him like the broidered arm of a hussar’s surcoat.

So Ahab cried out, hailing another ship as it approached from behind, flying the English flag. The old man stood in his raised quarter-boat, a speaking trumpet at his mouth. His ivory leg was plainly visible to the other captain, who lounged casually in the bow of his own boat. The captain was a darkly tanned, burly, good-natured, handsome man of about sixty. He wore a loose, short jacket that hung around him in folds of blue pilot cloth. One empty sleeve streamed behind him like the embroidered sleeve of a hussar’s coat.

“Hast seen the White Whale?”

“Have you seen the White Whale?”

“See you this?” and withdrawing it from the folds that had hidden it, he held up a white arm of sperm whale bone, terminating in a wooden head like a mallet.

“Do you see this?” He pulled it from the folds that had hidden it and held it up. It was a white arm made of sperm whale bone, with a wooden head like a mallet.

“Man my boat!” cried Ahab, impetuously, and tossing about the oars near him—“Stand by to lower!”

“Crew, get into my boat!” Ahab shouted, tossing the nearby oars about. “Get ready to lower it!”

In less than a minute, without quitting his little craft, he and his crew were dropped to the water, and were soon alongside of the stranger. But here a curious difficulty presented itself. In the excitement of the moment, Ahab had forgotten that since the loss of his leg he had never once stepped on board of any vessel at sea but his own, and then it was always by an ingenious and very handy mechanical contrivance peculiar to the Pequod, and a thing not to be rigged and shipped in any other vessel at a moment’s warning. Now, it is no very easy matter for anybody—except those who are almost hourly used to it, like whalemen—to clamber up a ship’s side from a boat on the open sea; for the great swells now lift the boat high up towards the bulwarks, and then instantaneously drop it half way down to the kelson. So, deprived of one leg, and the strange ship of course being altogether unsupplied with the kindly invention, Ahab now found himself abjectly reduced to a clumsy landsman again; hopelessly eyeing the uncertain changeful height he could hardly hope to attain.

In less than a minute, Ahab and his crew were lowered to the water without leaving their small boat. Soon they were alongside the stranger. But here a curious difficulty arose. In the excitement, Ahab had forgotten that he had never boarded another vessel at sea since losing his leg. He had only boarded his own, and always with the help of a clever, very handy mechanical device. The device was unique to the Pequod and could not be set up and installed on another vessel at a moment’s notice. Climbing from a boat up the side of a ship on the open sea is difficult for almost anyone. Only those who do it nearly every hour, like whalemen, find it easy. The great swells lift the boat high toward the ship’s upper sides, then instantly drop it halfway down toward the keel. So, with only one leg, and no such helpful device on the strange ship, Ahab found himself reduced to a clumsy landsman again. He gazed hopelessly at the shifting height he could hardly hope to reach.

It has before been hinted, perhaps, that every little untoward circumstance that befell him, and which indirectly sprang from his luckless mishap, almost invariably irritated or exasperated Ahab. And in the present instance, all this was heightened by the sight of the two officers of the strange ship, leaning over the side, by the perpendicular ladder of nailed cleets there, and swinging towards him a pair of tastefully-ornamented man-ropes; for at first they did not seem to bethink them that a one-legged man must be too much of a cripple to use their sea bannisters. But this awkwardness only lasted a minute, because the strange captain, observing at a glance how affairs stood, cried out, “I see, I see!—avast heaving there! Jump, boys, and swing over the cutting-tackle.”

Perhaps it has been hinted before that every little mishap indirectly caused by Ahab’s unfortunate accident almost always irritated or enraged him. This time, his irritation was made worse by the sight of the strange ship’s two officers. They were leaning over the side beside a vertical ladder made of cleats nailed to the ship. They swung a pair of neatly decorated hand ropes toward him. At first, they did not seem to realize that a one-legged man was too disabled to use the ropes. But the awkward situation lasted only a minute. The strange captain saw at a glance how things stood and cried, “I see, I see! Stop hauling there! Hurry, boys, and swing over the cutting-tackle.”

As good luck would have it, they had had a whale alongside a day or two previous, and the great tackles were still aloft, and the massive curved blubber-hook, now clean and dry, was still attached to the end. This was quickly lowered to Ahab, who at once comprehending it all, slid his solitary thigh into the curve of the hook (it was like sitting in the fluke of an anchor, or the crotch of an apple tree), and then giving the word, held himself fast, and at the same time also helped to hoist his own weight, by pulling hand-over-hand upon one of the running parts of the tackle. Soon he was carefully swung inside the high bulwarks, and gently landed upon the capstan head. With his ivory arm frankly thrust forth in welcome, the other captain advanced, and Ahab, putting out his ivory leg, and crossing the ivory arm (like two sword-fish blades) cried out in his walrus way, “Aye, aye, hearty! let us shake bones together!—an arm and a leg!—an arm that never can shrink, d’ye see; and a leg that never can run. Where did’st thou see the White Whale?—how long ago?”

As luck would have it, they had brought a whale alongside a day or two earlier. The great tackles were still hanging overhead, with the massive curved blubber-hook still attached to the end. The hook was now clean and dry. They quickly lowered it to Ahab, who immediately understood what to do. He slid his one thigh into the curve of the hook. It was like sitting in the fluke of an anchor or the fork of an apple tree. He gave the signal and held on tight. At the same time, he helped hoist his own weight by pulling hand over hand on a moving part of the tackle. Soon he was carefully swung inside the high bulwarks and gently set down on top of the capstan. The other captain came forward, openly extending his ivory arm in welcome. Ahab put out his ivory leg and crossed it with the ivory arm, like two swordfish blades. Then he cried out in his walrus-like way, “Yes, yes, mate! Let’s shake bones together! An arm and a leg! An arm that can never shrink, you see, and a leg that can never run. Where did you see the White Whale? How long ago?”

“The White Whale,” said the Englishman, pointing his ivory arm towards the East, and taking a rueful sight along it, as if it had been a telescope; “there I saw him, on the Line, last season.”

“The White Whale,” said the Englishman, pointing his ivory arm east and looking ruefully along it as if it were a telescope. “I saw him there, on the equator, last season.”

“And he took that arm off, did he?” asked Ahab, now sliding down from the capstan, and resting on the Englishman’s shoulder, as he did so.

“And he took that arm off, did he?” Ahab asked as he slid down from the capstan, leaning on the Englishman’s shoulder.

“Aye, he was the cause of it, at least; and that leg, too?”

“Yes, he caused it, at least. And that leg too?”

“Spin me the yarn,” said Ahab; “how was it?”

“Tell me the story,” said Ahab. “How did it happen?”

“It was the first time in my life that I ever cruised on the Line,” began the Englishman. “I was ignorant of the White Whale at that time. Well, one day we lowered for a pod of four or five whales, and my boat fastened to one of them; a regular circus horse he was, too, that went milling and milling round so, that my boat’s crew could only trim dish, by sitting all their sterns on the outer gunwale. Presently up breaches from the bottom of the sea a bouncing great whale, with a milky-white head and hump, all crows’ feet and wrinkles.”

“It was the first time in my life I had ever sailed near the equator,” the Englishman began. “At the time, I knew nothing about the White Whale. Well, one day we lowered our boats to chase a pod of four or five whales. My boat harpooned one of them. He was like a circus horse, circling round and round. He circled so much that my crew could only keep the boat balanced by sitting on its outer edge. Soon, a huge whale burst up from the depths. He had a milky-white head and hump, covered in crow’s feet and wrinkles.”

“It was he, it was he!” cried Ahab, suddenly letting out his suspended breath.

“It was him, it was him!” Ahab cried, suddenly letting out the breath he had been holding.

“And harpoons sticking in near his starboard fin.”

“And harpoons sticking out near his right fin.”

“Aye, aye—they were mine—my irons,” cried Ahab, exultingly—“but on!”

“Yes, yes, they were mine, my harpoons,” Ahab cried triumphantly. “But go on!”

“Give me a chance, then,” said the Englishman, good-humoredly. “Well, this old great-grandfather, with the white head and hump, runs all afoam into the pod, and goes to snapping furiously at my fast-line!

“Give me a chance, then,” said the Englishman cheerfully. “Well, this old great-grandfather, with his white head and hump, rushes into the pod, covered in foam. Then he starts snapping furiously at my harpoon line!

“Aye, I see!—wanted to part it; free the fast-fish—an old trick—I know him.”

“Yes, I see! He wanted to cut it and free the fast-fish. An old trick. I know him.”

“How it was exactly,” continued the one-armed commander, “I do not know; but in biting the line, it got foul of his teeth, caught there somehow; but we didn’t know it then; so that when we afterwards pulled on the line, bounce we came plump on to his hump! instead of the other whale’s; that went off to windward, all fluking. Seeing how matters stood, and what a noble great whale it was—the noblest and biggest I ever saw, sir, in my life—I resolved to capture him, spite of the boiling rage he seemed to be in. And thinking the hap-hazard line would get loose, or the tooth it was tangled to might draw (for I have a devil of a boat’s crew for a pull on a whale-line); seeing all this, I say, I jumped into my first mate’s boat—Mr. Mounttop’s here (by the way, Captain—Mounttop; Mounttop—the captain);—as I was saying, I jumped into Mounttop’s boat, which, d’ye see, was gunwale and gunwale with mine, then; and snatching the first harpoon, let this old great-grandfather have it. But, Lord, look you, sir—hearts and souls alive, man—the next instant, in a jiff, I was blind as a bat—both eyes out—all befogged and bedeadened with black foam—the whale’s tail looming straight up out of it, perpendicular in the air, like a marble steeple. No use sterning all, then; but as I was groping at midday, with a blinding sun, all crown-jewels; as I was groping, I say, after the second iron, to toss it overboard—down comes the tail like a Lima tower, cutting my boat in two, leaving each half in splinters; and, flukes first, the white hump backed through the wreck, as though it was all chips. We all struck out. To escape his terrible flailings, I seized hold of my harpoon-pole sticking in him, and for a moment clung to that like a sucking fish. But a combing sea dashed me off, and at the same instant, the fish, taking one good dart forwards, went down like a flash; and the barb of that cursed second iron towing along near me caught me here” (clapping his hand just below his shoulder); “yes, caught me just here, I say, and bore me down to Hell’s flames, I was thinking; when, when, all of a sudden, thank the good God, the barb ript its way along the flesh—clear along the whole length of my arm—came out nigh my wrist, and up I floated;—and that gentleman there will tell you the rest (by the way, captain—Dr. Bunger, ship’s surgeon: Bunger, my lad,—the captain). Now, Bunger boy, spin your part of the yarn.”

“How exactly it happened,” continued the one-armed captain, “I don’t know. But when he bit the line, it somehow got caught in his teeth. We didn’t know that then, though. So when we later pulled on the line, we bounced straight onto his hump instead of the other whale’s! The other whale headed off toward the wind, thrashing his tail. “When I saw what had happened, I decided to capture him, despite his boiling rage. He was a magnificent great whale, sir, the finest and biggest I ever saw in my life. I thought the accidentally caught line might come loose, or the tooth it was tangled around might be pulled out. For I have a devil of a boat crew when it comes to pulling a whale line. Seeing all this, I jumped into my first mate’s boat, Mr. Mounttop’s here. By the way, Captain, this is Mounttop. Mounttop, this is the captain. As I was saying, I jumped into Mounttop’s boat, which was right alongside mine, gunwale to gunwale. I snatched up the first harpoon and gave this old great-grandfather a taste of it. “But Lord, sir, hearts and souls alive, man! The very next instant, I was blind as a bat, both eyes put out. Black foam covered me, blinding and numbing me. The whale’s tail rose straight up out of the foam, vertical in the air, like a marble steeple. There was no use rowing backward then. I was groping for the second harpoon to throw it overboard. It was midday, and the sun was blinding, like a whole collection of crown jewels. As I groped, down came the tail like a tower in Lima. It cut my boat in two and left each half in splinters. Then the white hump backed through the wreck, tail first, as though it were all wood chips. “We all struck out swimming. To escape his terrible thrashing, I grabbed the pole of my harpoon, which was sticking in him. For a moment I clung to it like a suckerfish. But a breaking wave knocked me off. At that same instant, the whale darted forward and went down like a flash. The barb of that cursed second harpoon was trailing near me. It caught me here” (clapping his hand just below his shoulder). “Yes, it caught me right here, I tell you, and dragged me down. I thought I was going to Hell’s flames. Then, all of a sudden, thank the good God, the barb ripped through my flesh. It tore along the whole length of my arm and came out near my wrist. Up I floated. That gentleman there will tell you the rest. By the way, Captain, this is Dr. Bunger, the ship’s surgeon. Bunger, my lad, this is the captain. Now, Bunger boy, tell your part of the story.”

The professional gentleman thus familiarly pointed out, had been all the time standing near them, with nothing specific visible, to denote his gentlemanly rank on board. His face was an exceedingly round but sober one; he was dressed in a faded blue woollen frock or shirt, and patched trowsers; and had thus far been dividing his attention between a marlingspike he held in one hand, and a pill-box held in the other, occasionally casting a critical glance at the ivory limbs of the two crippled captains. But, at his superior’s introduction of him to Ahab, he politely bowed, and straightway went on to do his captain’s bidding.

The professional gentleman just pointed out in such a familiar way had been standing near them all along. Nothing about his appearance showed his gentlemanly rank on board. His face was very round but sober. He wore a faded blue woolen shirt and patched trousers. Until then, he had been dividing his attention between a marlingspike in one hand and a pillbox in the other. Now and then, he glanced critically at the ivory limbs of the two crippled captains. But when his superior introduced him to Ahab, he bowed politely and immediately did as his captain had ordered.

“It was a shocking bad wound,” began the whale-surgeon; “and, taking my advice, Captain Boomer here, stood our old Sammy—”

“It was a terribly bad wound,” the whale-surgeon began. “And on my advice, Captain Boomer here stood our old Sammy...”

“Samuel Enderby is the name of my ship,” interrupted the one-armed captain, addressing Ahab; “go on, boy.”

“Samuel Enderby is the name of my ship,” the one-armed captain interrupted, speaking to Ahab. “Go on, boy.”

“Stood our old Sammy off to the northward, to get out of the blazing hot weather there on the Line. But it was no use—I did all I could; sat up with him nights; was very severe with him in the matter of diet—”

“We headed our old Sammy north to get away from the blazing heat at the equator. But it was no use. I did all I could. I sat up with him at night and was very strict about his diet.”

“Oh, very severe!” chimed in the patient himself; then suddenly altering his voice, “Drinking hot rum toddies with me every night, till he couldn’t see to put on the bandages; and sending me to bed, half seas over, about three o’clock in the morning. Oh, ye stars! he sat up with me indeed, and was very severe in my diet. Oh! a great watcher, and very dietetically severe, is Dr. Bunger. (Bunger, you dog, laugh out! why don’t ye? You know you’re a precious jolly rascal.) But, heave ahead, boy, I’d rather be killed by you than kept alive by any other man.”

“Oh, very strict!” the patient himself chimed in. Then he suddenly changed his voice. “He drank hot rum toddies with me every night until he couldn’t see well enough to put on the bandages. Then he sent me to bed half drunk at about three in the morning. Oh, heavens! He certainly did sit up with me, and he was very strict about my diet. Oh, Dr. Bunger is a great nurse and very strict about diets. (Bunger, you rascal, laugh out loud! Why don’t you? You know you’re a wonderfully jolly rascal.) But go ahead, boy. I’d rather be killed by you than kept alive by any other man.”

“My captain, you must have ere this perceived, respected sir”—said the imperturbable godly-looking Bunger, slightly bowing to Ahab—“is apt to be facetious at times; he spins us many clever things of that sort. But I may as well say—en passant, as the French remark—that I myself—that is to say, Jack Bunger, late of the reverend clergy—am a strict total abstinence man; I never drink—”

“My captain, as you must have noticed by now, respected sir,” said Bunger, calm and godly-looking, with a slight bow to Ahab, “likes to joke at times. He tells us many clever jokes of that kind. But I might as well mention, in passing, as the French say, that I, Jack Bunger, formerly a clergyman, am a strict teetotaler. I never drink.”

“Water!” cried the captain; “he never drinks it; it’s a sort of fits to him; fresh water throws him into the hydrophobia; but go on—go on with the arm story.”

“Water!” cried the captain. “He never drinks it. It gives him a sort of fit. Fresh water makes him go rabid. But go on, go on with the story about the arm.”

“Yes, I may as well,” said the surgeon, coolly. “I was about observing, sir, before Captain Boomer’s facetious interruption, that spite of my best and severest endeavors, the wound kept getting worse and worse; the truth was, sir, it was as ugly gaping wound as surgeon ever saw; more than two feet and several inches long. I measured it with the lead line. In short, it grew black; I knew what was threatened, and off it came. But I had no hand in shipping that ivory arm there; that thing is against all rule”—pointing at it with the marlingspike—“that is the captain’s work, not mine; he ordered the carpenter to make it; he had that club-hammer there put to the end, to knock some one’s brains out with, I suppose, as he tried mine once. He flies into diabolical passions sometimes. Do ye see this dent, sir”—removing his hat, and brushing aside his hair, and exposing a bowl-like cavity in his skull, but which bore not the slightest scarry trace, or any token of ever having been a wound—“Well, the captain there will tell you how that came here; he knows.”

“Yes, I might as well,” said the surgeon calmly. “Before Captain Boomer’s joking interruption, sir, I was about to say that the wound kept getting worse despite my best and most strenuous efforts. The truth was, sir, it was as ugly and gaping a wound as any surgeon ever saw. It was more than two feet and several inches long. I measured it with the lead line. In short, it turned black. I knew what was coming, so off came the arm. But I had no hand in fitting that ivory arm there. That thing is against all the rules.” He pointed at it with the marlingspike. “That is the captain’s work, not mine. He ordered the carpenter to make it. He had that club-hammer put on the end, I suppose to knock someone’s brains out, as he once tried to do to me. He sometimes flies into devilish rages. Do you see this dent, sir?” He removed his hat and brushed aside his hair, exposing a bowl-shaped hollow in his skull. But it showed not the slightest scar or any other sign of ever having been a wound. “Well, the captain there will tell you how it got there. He knows.”

“No, I don’t,” said the captain, “but his mother did; he was born with it. Oh, you solemn rogue, you—you Bunger! was there ever such another Bunger in the watery world? Bunger, when you die, you ought to die in pickle, you dog; you should be preserved to future ages, you rascal.”

“No, I don’t,” said the captain, “but his mother did. He was born with it. Oh, you solemn rascal, you Bunger! Was there ever another Bunger like you in the watery world? Bunger, when you die, you ought to be pickled, you dog. You should be preserved for future generations, you rascal.”

“What became of the White Whale?” now cried Ahab, who thus far had been impatiently listening to this by-play between the two Englishmen.

“What happened to the White Whale?” Ahab cried. Until now, he had listened impatiently to the exchange between the two Englishmen.

“Oh!” cried the one-armed captain, “oh, yes! Well; after he sounded, we didn’t see him again for some time; in fact, as I before hinted, I didn’t then know what whale it was that had served me such a trick, till some time afterwards, when coming back to the Line, we heard about Moby Dick—as some call him—and then I knew it was he.”

“Oh!” cried the one-armed captain. “Oh, yes! Well, after he dived, we didn’t see him again for some time. In fact, as I hinted before, I didn’t know then which whale had played such a trick on me. Some time later, when we returned to the Line, we heard about Moby Dick, as some call him. Then I knew it was him.”

“Did’st thou cross his wake again?”

“Did you cross his wake again?”

“Twice.”

“Twice.”

“But could not fasten?”

“But couldn’t fasten?”

“Didn’t want to try to: ain’t one limb enough? What should I do without this other arm? And I’m thinking Moby Dick doesn’t bite so much as he swallows.”

“I didn’t want to try. Isn’t one limb enough? What would I do without this other arm? And I think Moby Dick swallows more than he bites.”

“Well, then,” interrupted Bunger, “give him your left arm for bait to get the right. Do you know, gentlemen”—very gravely and mathematically bowing to each Captain in succession—“Do you know, gentlemen, that the digestive organs of the whale are so inscrutably constructed by Divine Providence, that it is quite impossible for him to completely digest even a man’s arm? And he knows it too. So that what you take for the White Whale’s malice is only his awkwardness. For he never means to swallow a single limb; he only thinks to terrify by feints. But sometimes he is like the old juggling fellow, formerly a patient of mine in Ceylon, that making believe swallow jack-knives, once upon a time let one drop into him in good earnest, and there it stayed for a twelvemonth or more; when I gave him an emetic, and he heaved it up in small tacks, d’ye see. No possible way for him to digest that jack-knife, and fully incorporate it into his general bodily system. Yes, Captain Boomer, if you are quick enough about it, and have a mind to pawn one arm for the sake of the privilege of giving decent burial to the other, why in that case the arm is yours; only let the whale have another chance at you shortly, that’s all.”

“Well, then,” Bunger interrupted, “give him your left arm as bait to get the right one back. Do you know, gentlemen,” he said, bowing to each Captain in turn with solemn precision, “do you know that Divine Providence has made the whale’s digestive organs so mysteriously that he cannot completely digest even a man’s arm? And he knows it too. So what you take for the White Whale’s malice is only his awkwardness. He never means to swallow a single limb. He only intends to frighten people with feints. But sometimes he is like an old juggler who was once my patient in Ceylon. The man used to pretend to swallow pocketknives, but once he actually let one slip down. It stayed inside him for a year or more. Then I gave him an emetic, and he vomited it up in little tacks, you see. There was no possible way for him to digest that pocketknife and fully absorb it into his body. Yes, Captain Boomer, if you are quick enough and willing to pawn one arm for the privilege of giving the other a decent burial, then the arm is yours. Just give the whale another chance at you soon, that’s all.”

“No, thank ye, Bunger,” said the English Captain, “he’s welcome to the arm he has, since I can’t help it, and didn’t know him then; but not to another one. No more White Whales for me; I’ve lowered for him once, and that has satisfied me. There would be great glory in killing him, I know that; and there is a ship-load of precious sperm in him, but, hark ye, he’s best let alone; don’t you think so, Captain?”—glancing at the ivory leg.

“No, thank you, Bunger,” said the English Captain. “He can keep the arm he took, since I can’t help it and didn’t know him then. But he won’t get another one. No more White Whales for me. I’ve launched a boat to hunt him once, and that was enough for me. I know there would be great glory in killing him, and he has a shipload of precious sperm oil in him. But listen, he’s best left alone. Don’t you think so, Captain?” He glanced at the ivory leg.

“He is. But he will still be hunted, for all that. What is best let alone, that accursed thing is not always what least allures. He’s all a magnet! How long since thou saw’st him last? Which way heading?”

“He is. But he will still be hunted, despite that. What is best left alone, that cursed thing, is not always the least tempting. He’s all magnet! How long has it been since you last saw him? Which way was he heading?”

“Bless my soul, and curse the foul fiend’s,” cried Bunger, stoopingly walking round Ahab, and like a dog, strangely snuffing; “this man’s blood—bring the thermometer!—it’s at the boiling point!—his pulse makes these planks beat!—sir!”—taking a lancet from his pocket, and drawing near to Ahab’s arm.

“Bless my soul, and curse the devil’s,” cried Bunger. He walked around Ahab, bent over and sniffing strangely like a dog. “This man’s blood, bring the thermometer! It’s at the boiling point! His pulse makes these planks throb! Sir!” He took a lancet from his pocket and moved closer to Ahab’s arm.

“Avast!” roared Ahab, dashing him against the bulwarks—“Man the boat! Which way heading?”

“Stop!” roared Ahab, slamming him against the ship’s side. “Get the crew into the boat! Which way is it heading?”

“Good God!” cried the English Captain, to whom the question was put. “What’s the matter? He was heading east, I think.—Is your Captain crazy?” whispering Fedallah.

“Good God!” cried the English Captain, who had been asked the question. “What’s the matter? He was heading east, I think. Is your Captain crazy?” he whispered to Fedallah.

But Fedallah, putting a finger on his lip, slid over the bulwarks to take the boat’s steering oar, and Ahab, swinging the cutting-tackle towards him, commanded the ship’s sailors to stand by to lower.

But Fedallah put a finger to his lip and slid over the ship’s side to take the boat’s steering oar. Ahab swung the cutting tackle toward Fedallah and ordered the sailors to stand ready to lower the boat.

In a moment he was standing in the boat’s stern, and the Manilla men were springing to their oars. In vain the English Captain hailed him. With back to the stranger ship, and face set like a flint to his own, Ahab stood upright till alongside of the Pequod.

A moment later, he was standing at the stern of the boat, and the Manilla men were rushing to their oars. The English Captain called out to him in vain. With his back to the stranger’s ship and his face set like stone toward his own, Ahab stood upright until the boat was alongside the Pequod.