The Musket

During the most violent shocks of the Typhoon, the man at the Pequod’s jaw-bone tiller had several times been reelingly hurled to the deck by its spasmodic motions, even though preventer tackles had been attached to it—for they were slack—because some play to the tiller was indispensable.

During the Typhoon’s most violent shocks, the Pequod’s jaw-bone tiller jerked wildly, throwing the man steering onto the deck several times. This happened even though preventer tackles had been attached to the tiller. The tackles were slack because the tiller had to be able to move somewhat.

In a severe gale like this, while the ship is but a tossed shuttlecock to the blast, it is by no means uncommon to see the needles in the compasses, at intervals, go round and round. It was thus with the Pequod’s; at almost every shock the helmsman had not failed to notice the whirling velocity with which they revolved upon the cards; it is a sight that hardly anyone can behold without some sort of unwonted emotion.

In a fierce gale like this, the wind tosses the ship about like a shuttlecock. It is quite common to see compass needles spin around from time to time. So it was with the Pequod’s compasses. The helmsman had noticed that the needles spun rapidly over the compass cards with almost every jolt. Hardly anyone can watch the needles spin without feeling some unusual emotion.

Some hours after midnight, the Typhoon abated so much, that through the strenuous exertions of Starbuck and Stubb—one engaged forward and the other aft—the shivered remnants of the jib and fore and main-top-sails were cut adrift from the spars, and went eddying away to leeward, like the feathers of an albatross, which sometimes are cast to the winds when that storm-tossed bird is on the wing.

Some hours after midnight, the typhoon eased considerably. Starbuck worked hard at the front of the ship, while Stubb worked at the rear. They cut the torn remains of the jib and the fore and main topsails loose from the spars. The scraps swirled away downwind, like feathers sometimes blown from an albatross as the storm-tossed bird flies.

The three corresponding new sails were now bent and reefed, and a storm-trysail was set further aft; so that the ship soon went through the water with some precision again; and the course—for the present, East-south-east—which he was to steer, if practicable, was once more given to the helmsman. For during the violence of the gale, he had only steered according to its vicissitudes. But as he was now bringing the ship as near her course as possible, watching the compass meanwhile, lo! a good sign! the wind seemed coming round astern; aye, the foul breeze became fair!

The three corresponding new sails were now attached and reefed, and a storm-trysail was set farther aft. Soon the ship was moving through the water with some precision again. The helmsman was once more told to steer east-southeast for the present, if possible. During the worst of the gale, he had steered only as the changing wind allowed. But now he was bringing the ship as close to its course as possible, watching the compass as he did so. And look, a good sign! The wind seemed to be shifting toward the stern. Yes, the unfavorable wind was becoming favorable!

Instantly the yards were squared, to the lively song of “Ho! the fair wind! oh-ye-ho, cheerly men!” the crew singing for joy, that so promising an event should so soon have falsified the evil portents preceding it.

The yards were immediately squared to the lively song of “Ho! the fair wind! oh-ye-ho, cheerly men!” The crew sang for joy because this promising turn had so quickly proved the earlier bad omens wrong.

In compliance with the standing order of his commander—to report immediately, and at any one of the twenty-four hours, any decided change in the affairs of the deck,—Starbuck had no sooner trimmed the yards to the breeze—however reluctantly and gloomily,—than he mechanically went below to apprise Captain Ahab of the circumstance.

Starbuck’s commander had ordered him to report any significant change on deck immediately, at any hour of the day or night. So, as soon as Starbuck had adjusted the yards to the breeze, he mechanically went below to inform Captain Ahab. He had adjusted the yards reluctantly and gloomily.

Ere knocking at his state-room, he involuntarily paused before it a moment. The cabin lamp—taking long swings this way and that—was burning fitfully, and casting fitful shadows upon the old man’s bolted door,—a thin one, with fixed blinds inserted, in place of upper panels. The isolated subterraneousness of the cabin made a certain humming silence to reign there, though it was hooped round by all the roar of the elements. The loaded muskets in the rack were shiningly revealed, as they stood upright against the forward bulkhead. Starbuck was an honest, upright man; but out of Starbuck’s heart, at that instant when he saw the muskets, there strangely evolved an evil thought; but so blent with its neutral or good accompaniments that for the instant he hardly knew it for itself.

Before knocking on the door of the old man’s cabin, he paused for a moment without meaning to. The cabin lamp swung back and forth in long arcs, burning unsteadily. It cast shifting shadows on the old man’s bolted door. The door was thin, with fixed blinds in place of its upper panels. The cabin’s isolated, underground feeling brought a kind of humming silence, though the roar of the elements surrounded it. The loaded muskets shone in their rack, standing upright against the forward bulkhead. Starbuck was an honest, upright man. But the moment he saw the muskets, an evil thought strangely arose in his heart. It was so mixed with neutral or good thoughts that, for the moment, he hardly recognized it for what it was.

“He would have shot me once,” he murmured, “yes, there’s the very musket that he pointed at me;—that one with the studded stock; let me touch it—lift it. Strange, that I, who have handled so many deadly lances, strange, that I should shake so now. Loaded? I must see. Aye, aye; and powder in the pan;—that’s not good. Best spill it?—wait. I’ll cure myself of this. I’ll hold the musket boldly while I think.—I come to report a fair wind to him. But how fair? Fair for death and doom,—that’s fair for Moby Dick. It’s a fair wind that’s only fair for that accursed fish.—The very tube he pointed at me!—the very one; this one—I hold it here; he would have killed me with the very thing I handle now.—Aye and he would fain kill all his crew. Does he not say he will not strike his spars to any gale? Has he not dashed his heavenly quadrant? and in these same perilous seas, gropes he not his way by mere dead reckoning of the error-abounding log? and in this very Typhoon, did he not swear that he would have no lightning-rods? But shall this crazed old man be tamely suffered to drag a whole ship’s company down to doom with him?—Yes, it would make him the wilful murderer of thirty men and more, if this ship come to any deadly harm; and come to deadly harm, my soul swears this ship will, if Ahab have his way. If, then, he were this instant—put aside, that crime would not be his. Ha! is he muttering in his sleep? Yes, just there,—in there, he’s sleeping. Sleeping? aye, but still alive, and soon awake again. I can’t withstand thee, then, old man. Not reasoning; not remonstrance; not entreaty wilt thou hearken to; all this thou scornest. Flat obedience to thy own flat commands, this is all thou breathest. Aye, and say’st the men have vow’d thy vow; say’st all of us are Ahabs. Great God forbid!—But is there no other way? no lawful way?—Make him a prisoner to be taken home? What! hope to wrest this old man’s living power from his own living hands? Only a fool would try it. Say he were pinioned even; knotted all over with ropes and hawsers; chained down to ring-bolts on this cabin floor; he would be more hideous than a caged tiger, then. I could not endure the sight; could not possibly fly his howlings; all comfort, sleep itself, inestimable reason would leave me on the long intolerable voyage. What, then, remains? The land is hundreds of leagues away, and locked Japan the nearest. I stand alone here upon an open sea, with two oceans and a whole continent between me and law.—Aye, aye, ’tis so.—Is heaven a murderer when its lightning strikes a would-be murderer in his bed, tindering sheets and skin together?—And would I be a murderer, then, if”—and slowly, stealthily, and half sideways looking, he placed the loaded musket’s end against the door.

“He would have shot me once,” he murmured. “Yes, there’s the very musket he pointed at me, the one with the studded stock. Let me touch it, lift it. Strange that I should be shaking so now, when I’ve handled so many deadly lances. Is it loaded? I must see. Yes, yes, and there’s powder in the pan. That’s not good. Should I spill it? Wait. I’ll cure myself of this fear. I’ll hold the musket boldly while I think. “I came to tell him there’s a fair wind. But how fair? Fair for death and doom. That’s fair for Moby Dick. This fair wind is fair only for that cursed fish. The very barrel he pointed at me! The very one, this one. I’m holding it here. He would have killed me with the very thing I’m holding now. “Yes, and he would gladly kill all his crew. Doesn’t he say he won’t lower his spars for any gale? Hasn’t he smashed his quadrant, which he used to navigate by the heavens? And in these same dangerous seas, isn’t he feeling his way by dead reckoning alone, using the error-prone log? And in this very Typhoon, didn’t he swear he’d have no lightning-rods? But should we let this crazed old man drag a whole ship’s crew down to doom with him? “Yes, if this ship comes to deadly harm, he’ll be the deliberate murderer of thirty men and more. And my soul swears this ship will come to deadly harm if Ahab gets his way. If, then, he were put aside this very instant, that crime wouldn’t be his. Ha! Is he muttering in his sleep? Yes, just there, in there, he’s sleeping. Sleeping? Yes, but still alive, and soon to wake again. “Then I can’t stand against you, old man. You won’t listen to reason, or protests, or pleas. You scorn them all. All you want is complete obedience to your own absolute commands. Yes, and you say the men have sworn your vow. You say all of us are Ahabs. Great God forbid! But is there no other way? No lawful way? “Make him a prisoner and take him home? What! Hope to wrest this old man’s living power from his own living hands? Only a fool would try it. Suppose he were tied up, bound all over with ropes and hawsers, and chained to ring-bolts on this cabin floor. Then he’d be more hideous than a caged tiger. I couldn’t bear the sight. I couldn’t possibly escape his howls. On the long, unbearable voyage, all comfort, sleep itself, and my priceless reason would leave me. “What, then, is left? Land is hundreds of leagues away, and closed-off Japan is the nearest. I stand alone here on the open sea, with two oceans and a whole continent between me and the law. Yes, yes, that’s how it is. Is heaven a murderer when its lightning strikes a would-be murderer in his bed, burning sheets and skin together? And would I be a murderer, then, if” and slowly, stealthily, looking half sideways, he placed the end of the loaded musket against the door.

“On this level, Ahab’s hammock swings within; his head this way. A touch, and Starbuck may survive to hug his wife and child again.—Oh Mary! Mary!—boy! boy! boy!—But if I wake thee not to death, old man, who can tell to what unsounded deeps Starbuck’s body this day week may sink, with all the crew! Great God, where art Thou? Shall I? shall I?—The wind has gone down and shifted, sir; the fore and main topsails are reefed and set; she heads her course.”

“Inside, at this height, Ahab’s hammock is swinging, with his head toward me. One touch, and Starbuck may live to embrace his wife and child again. Oh, Mary! Mary! Boy! Boy! Boy! But if I don’t wake you only to kill you, old man, who knows how deep Starbuck’s body may sink a week from today, along with all the crew? Great God, where are you? Shall I? Shall I? The wind has died down and shifted, sir. The fore and main topsails are reefed and set. The ship is on course.”

“Stern all! Oh Moby Dick, I clutch thy heart at last!”

“Everyone, row backward! Oh Moby Dick, I have your heart in my grasp at last!”

Such were the sounds that now came hurtling from out the old man’s tormented sleep, as if Starbuck’s voice had caused the long dumb dream to speak.

These sounds now burst from the old man as he slept in torment. It was as if Starbuck’s voice had made the long silent dream speak.

The yet levelled musket shook like a drunkard’s arm against the panel; Starbuck seemed wrestling with an angel; but turning from the door, he placed the death-tube in its rack, and left the place.

The musket, still aimed at the door, shook against the panel like a drunkard’s arm. Starbuck seemed to be wrestling with an angel. But he turned away from the door, placed the deadly gun in its rack, and left.

“He’s too sound asleep, Mr. Stubb; go thou down, and wake him, and tell him. I must see to the deck here. Thou know’st what to say.”

“He’s too deeply asleep, Mr. Stubb. Go down, wake him, and tell him. I must see to the deck here. You know what to say.”