Listen!

“HIST! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”

“SHH! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”

It was the middle-watch: a fair moonlight; the seamen were standing in a cordon, extending from one of the fresh-water butts in the waist, to the scuttle-butt near the taffrail. In this manner, they passed the buckets to fill the scuttle-butt. Standing, for the most part, on the hallowed precincts of the quarter-deck, they were careful not to speak or rustle their feet. From hand to hand, the buckets went in the deepest silence, only broken by the occasional flap of a sail, and the steady hum of the unceasingly advancing keel.

It was the middle watch, and the moonlight was clear. The sailors stood in a line from a fresh-water cask amidships to the drinking-water barrel near the stern rail. They passed buckets along the line to fill the drinking-water barrel. Most of them stood on the hallowed quarterdeck, careful not to speak or shuffle their feet. The buckets passed from hand to hand in deep silence. Only the occasional flap of a sail and the steady hum of the ship’s ever-moving keel broke the silence.

It was in the midst of this repose, that Archy, one of the cordon, whose post was near the after-hatches, whispered to his neighbor, a Cholo, the words above.

During this quiet spell, Archy whispered the words above to his neighbor, a Cholo. Archy was one of the men in the cordon, stationed near the after-hatches.

“Hist! did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”

“Listen! Did you hear that noise, Cabaco?”

“Take the bucket, will ye, Archy? what noise d’ye mean?”

“Take the bucket, will you, Archy? What noise do you mean?”

“There it is again—under the hatches—don’t you hear it—a cough—it sounded like a cough.”

“There it is again, under the hatches. Don’t you hear it? A cough. It sounded like a cough.”

“Cough be damned! Pass along that return bucket.”

“Damn the cough! Pass that bucket back.”

“There again—there it is!—it sounds like two or three sleepers turning over, now!”

“There it is again! Now it sounds like two or three people turning over in their sleep!”

“Caramba! have done, shipmate, will ye? It’s the three soaked biscuits ye eat for supper turning over inside of ye—nothing else. Look to the bucket!”

“Caramba! Stop it, shipmate, will you? It’s just the three soaked biscuits you ate for supper churning in your stomach. Nothing else. Watch the bucket!”

“Say what ye will, shipmate; I’ve sharp ears.”

“Say what you want, shipmate. I have sharp ears.”

“Aye, you are the chap, ain’t ye, that heard the hum of the old Quakeress’s knitting-needles fifty miles at sea from Nantucket; you’re the chap.”

“Yes, you’re the guy, aren’t you, who heard the hum of the old Quaker woman’s knitting needles fifty miles out to sea from Nantucket? You’re the guy.”

“Grin away; we’ll see what turns up. Hark ye, Cabaco, there is somebody down in the after-hold that has not yet been seen on deck; and I suspect our old Mogul knows something of it too. I heard Stubb tell Flask, one morning watch, that there was something of that sort in the wind.”

“Keep grinning. We’ll see what happens. Listen, Cabaco, there’s somebody down in the aft hold who hasn’t been seen on deck yet. And I suspect our old Mogul knows something about it too. One morning, while on watch, I heard Stubb tell Flask there were rumors of something like that.”

“Tish! the bucket!”

“Psh! The bucket!”